The Shroud Codex - Jerome R. Corsi [2]
Silver refused to accept Bartholomew’s decision. Instead he insisted that Bartholomew take some time off to get himself back together emotionally. They had known each other since Bartholomew was an undergraduate in one of Silver’s advanced physics courses at Princeton. He encouraged Bartholomew to pursue graduate studies in physics and when Bartholomew was accepted as a graduate student in physics, Silver became his advisor.
“Your leaving physics will be a great loss both to physics and to the institute,” Silver insisted. “Travel. Go to Europe for a few months. You need some time to grieve. When you get back, you’ll be ready to resume your work.”
“I’ve made my decision and it’s final,” Bartholomew explained to Dr. Silver. “I have come to the conclusion that I have made all the contributions to physics that I want to make.”
“What do you mean? You’re already famous and you’re not yet at the height of your career.”
“That may be, but my decision is final.”
Dr. Silver finally had to accept the fact that he could not change Bartholomew’s mind.
“What are you going to do with the rest of your life?” he asked. “You’re a young man, not yet forty years old. You can’t mourn your mother for the rest of your life.”
“I’ve decided to go into the priesthood,” Bartholomew said without hesitation. “I have come to the conclusion that I have to find God and that physics isn’t going to get me there.”
Silver was flabbergasted. “So, you’re dropping out altogether then?”
“No,” Bartholomew protested. “I’m not dropping out. It’s just the opposite. I think for the first time in my life I know what I’m doing. My mother always told me that I had a vocation for the priesthood and I had never believed her. If she communicated anything to me in the last days of her life, even if it was just with her eyes before she went into a coma, she was telling me I had to find God. She always said I was born to do something in my life more important than physics. Now I believe her.”
THE DAY OF the car accident was a Sunday. After saying Mass that morning at his parish, St. Joseph’s on New York City’s Upper East Side, he drove over to his mother’s grave site in Morristown, New Jersey. He brought fresh flowers to place on her grave, as he always did. Kneeling at his mother’s grave that morning, he prayed for her soul and asked God once more that he might join her soon.
Little did Bartholomew realize, as he left the cemetery in Morristown to head up to his cabin, that this was to be the last day of his life.
Now, surrounded by the luminescence in what he imagined must be Heaven, Bartholomew and his mother embraced for what seemed the longest time, thrilled to be reunited.
“Come with me, Paul,” his mother said. “There’s someone else who has been waiting here for you, along with me.”
She took his hand and together they approached a man seated at a table.
Bartholomew felt this man was the oldest and wisest man he had ever seen. His hair and beard were flowing with silver and his eyes were the softest and most understanding blue eyes Bartholomew had ever seen.
Entering the Ancient One’s presence and returning his gaze, Bartholomew felt pouring toward him an unqualified love and acceptance he had never imagined possible. For the first time, he felt at home.
“We have a special place prepared here for you,” the Ancient One said lovingly.
Bartholomew looked around him and he was aware of legions of other souls who were on every side of them, listening and watching intently.
“You are free to stay here forever,” the silver-haired Ancient One continued. “This is your home and you never have to leave.”
Bartholomew himself was now listening intently, sensing there was more.
“If you choose to stay here with us, you will always feel as happy and fulfilled as you do right now.”
Bartholomew understood.