HOW I CAME TO WRITE THE PAINTED MESSIAH

A PAINTING OF JESUS?

(The Genesis of an Idea)

THE CARPOCRATIANS

I

was reading The Other Bible, a collection of sacred Jewish and Christian writings, when I ran across Irenaeus's reference to the Carpocratians, who claimed to possess a painting of Christ 'made by Pilate when our lord walked among us.' They believed, Irenaeus wrote, that those who adored this image would stay forever young and never taste death.

From that moment on, I knew I wanted to write a novel about such a painting surviving to modern times, but the research was daunting. In fact, I soon realized there simply wasn't any material about Pilate's Painting of Christ to be found. If I wanted to pursue this idea, I had to read everything I could about the early Christian movement, the activities of the Romans in occupied Jerusalem, and the subject of iconography (including a seventh century initiative to destroy all sacred icons).

THE TEMPLARS

Along the way I ran into The Holy Blood, The Holy Grail and discovered a wealth of fact, legend, theory, and speculation. Somewhere along the line I began to theorize that Baphomet—the head (or image) the Templars worshipped—just might be the Grail, but I could find no confirmation of this. This set me off on a search to find as much material on the Templars as I could. Unlike my initial problem, this research project took me into the land of plenty. Everyone loves the Templars!

There are two essential theories about the Templars. In the first, they were exactly what they appeared to be—an order of knights sworn to protect Christian pilgrims. In the second they possessed a great secret. This latter tradition inspires an abundance of speculative literature but inevitably begins with the notion that nine knights showed up in Jerusalem, begging the patronage of King Baldwin, who let them take up quarters in the stables of Solomon, an area beneath the Temple Mount. These nine men, according to the speculative writers, then began digging for treasure. Just what they found depends on the writer's fancy.

I decided to turn the theory around. What if Baldwin had called the knights to him—seeking men willing to protect the treasure he had uncovered in Edessa?

THE ROAD TO EDESSA

Built by Alexander the Great, Edessa was called the Athens of the East while the West endured the Dark Ages. The cosmopolitan home of diverse peoples and religions for over a thousand years, Edessa is best known today for the painting of Jesus found buried in its fortifications in 525 AD. Called the Holy Face of Edessa, the ultimate fate of the painting is uncertain, but for centuries it was venerated in the east as the True Image—a painting of Jesus made from life.

When Baldwin and his 200 knights arrived in Edessa in 1098 they were given a warm welcome. And why not? Edessa, long under the protection of Constantinople, had been cut from the empire and was surviving only by virtue of its magnificent fortifications. King Thoros actually adopted Baldwin as his son and heir in exchange for his military support. Baldwin's men soon earned their keep when they helped the city fight off an army of some 200,000 men that would, a few months later, swoop down on Antioch and nearly bring the First Crusade to a premature close.

As the saviours of the city they were so popular that the people rose up against King Thoros and murdered him. This left Baldwin in command of the city and the Edessean people free of their hated Byzantine overlords. Rather than assume the crown that was offered to him, Baldwin gave the territory to his elder brother, who in turned named Baldwin the Count of Edessa.

After the Crusader conquest of Jerusalem Baldwin's brother was elected Protector of the Holy Sepulchre, essentially the commander of the Crusader forces, but he was obliged to cede civil authority to a papal legate. On his death a year later, the barons brought Baldwin from Edessa to Jerusalem as his successor. In a move that had seemed politically unattractive only a year earlier, they elected Baldwin their king in 1100. For the next eighteen years, the aging Baldwin led his army into numerous battles. His personal guard of knights were the Knights of Christ—recruited from all over Europe. At the King's death, these men reorganized as the Knights Templar and were for the next forty years independent of all authority. After that they served only the Pope—but really in name only.

These same knights were obliged to remain pure in heart. In other words, they sought to be worthy to look upon the face of God.

THE ARSENAL

When the Templars fell, Templar materials were taken to the Vatican and there remained until Napoleon, some five hundred years later, brought the archives to Paris and placed them in the Arsenal Library.

Everything we know about magic in modern times comes from the work of men who studied at the Arsenal library in the early nineteenth century. At the centre of that circle was, I posited, a sacred talisman—the legendary Baphomet. Discovered and understood as the True Image of Jesus by men who were dedicated to mastering the Black Arts, the Holy Image became a powerful tool for the black arts!

THE TREASURE MAP

Every modern day story about a treasure has some kind of map. Mine came through a young man's contact with Oscar Wilde some weeks before Wilde's death. Some fifty years after the Holy Face of Edessa turned up in Paris, Oscar Wilde came to promote … himself (the first modern, if you will). As he knew everyone involved in the occult, it did not seem too farfetched to suggest that he had contact with the image or to imagine that the experience of seeing the legendary face inspired him to write The Picture of Dorian Gray—the story of a painting that bestows eternal youth.

Shortly before his death, as I tell it, Wilde met a young man and confessed to him that he has seen Pilate's Portrait of Christ and it was that experience which inspired his novel. The young man writes a letter home, retelling Wilde's story, never imagining it is anything more than a fiction. When that letter resurfaces it becomes the key to finding the owner of the painting and through the owner the painting itself.

THE NARRATIVE

It had not escaped my notice that, at the time of their fall, everyone hated the Templars. They may not have been worthy of the torture they received at the hands of the Pope and the French King but neither were they much interested in respecting the laws of their own Order. What happened? The answer is excess: too much wealth, too much pride, too many secrets, too much fascination with the occult. It seemed to me they had lost their way. I wanted a narrative that reflected the corruption that comes when we turn objects into God—and yet I didn't want to moralize. The trick was to show it in a choice: how does the character choose between the face of God and a person he loves? What sins are permissible when we are on God's side?

There was finally the ultimate question. Why would Pilate order his slave to make such a painting? To answer that question I decided to tell two stories simultaneously, one the story of Pilate's journey to that fateful day in Jerusalem and the other a contemporary thriller about the True Image. Do the stories tie together at some level other than the painting? Is there an underlying unity not at first imagined? Well, to find that out I suggest you read the book.