The Shroud Codex - Jerome R. Corsi [122]
But that was not all that had changed.
“And the eyes have opened,” Father Middagh said with astonishment as he weaved back and forth, suggesting his ability to remain upright on his feet was very uncertain at best.
Castle thought Middagh had lost his mind, until he looked. Once again, Castle was astounded. Before, the eyes of the man in the Shroud had been closed. Now the eyes of the man in the Shroud were wide open, looking straight ahead. The once solemn and serene face now looked as if the Christ figure within were about to begin speaking.
Ferrar forced himself to his feet and rushed over to his camera crew. Reviewing the video, Ferrar saw they had recorded everything, including the illumination. “Keep taping.” Ferrar encouraged the camera crew, doing his best to make sure the cameras were still running. Ferrar did not want to lose a second of anything that happened.
Positioning himself in front of the cameras, Ferrar began what would be his afternoon newscast a few hours from now, relayed by satellite from Rome to New York and from there broadcast to every corner of the globe.
“You won’t believe what just happened,” Ferrar said into the camera with a look of disbelief on his face.
Castle was sure that was correct. If it had not been recorded, no one would have believed it.
From what Castle was provisionally putting together, he was beginning to conclude that Father Bartholomew had won his challenge with the pope. What had just happened before them in this small, private chapel in the Cathedral of Turin was unprecedented, uncaptured in human history.
As best Castle could figure, Father Bartholomew had just transitioned into a dimension beyond and he had taken Anne with him. As Dr. Bucholtz had warned him, the Shroud of Turin was a codex into ancient mysteries he and others would have no choice but to decode. Even more than a codex, the Shroud was a portal, an entry point into the dimension beyond.
Looking within himself in those first moments after the event, Castle had to admit that he was now willing, for the first time in his life, to consider the possibility of God, or at least of the existence of dimensions he had never before contemplated as existing.
Maybe Father Bartholomew was right that creating an experience beyond what we consider the normal laws of nature, in full view of the world, was the mission God sent him back to earth to accomplish.
But if Castle thought, even for a second, that his religious conversion was going to be immediate, picking up Gabrielli off the floor was all he needed to plant his feet firmly once again on terra firma.
“That was the best magic trick that I ever saw in my life,” Gabrielli said, brushing himself off and rearranging his clothes. “How do you think the pope did it?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Friday night
Hassler Hotel, Rome, Italy
Day 30
That evening, Dr. Castle returned to Rome in a daze.
He decided to go to the rooftop restaurant at the Hassler and have dinner by himself, hoping he would find the quiet time to sort out what he had just experienced.
Twilight was coming and the lights of the Vatican highlighted Rome with a magic that tonight he saw through different eyes. Perhaps Father Bartholomew had been right after all. Castle had always understood that religion could not be achieved by reason alone. Bartholomew was right in asserting that Castle had never gone through an experience that required him to believe in God. For the first time in his life, Castle was wondering if he had just gone through that type of experience.
As he sipped his wine and tried to decide if he had the appetite for dinner, the maître d’ approached him with a package.
“The signora you had dinner with here earlier this week left this package at the front desk for you today as she left the hotel,” he explained. “She said you would probably be dining here alone tonight and she felt certain you would want to have this.”
Befuddled, Castle tipped the maître d’ generously and accepted the package, having no possible idea what it might