danbrown.thedavincicode-第78章

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　Langdon　felt　a　squeeze　on　his　knee；　pulling　him　back；　and　Sophie's　green　eyes　were　on　him。　He　realized　she　had　been　speaking　to　him。　〃What　do　you　think　we　should　do　with　the　Sangreal　documents　if　we　ever　find　them？〃　she　whispered。
　〃What　I　think　is　immaterial；〃　Langdon　said。　〃Your　grandfather　gave　the　cryptex　to　you；　and　you　should　do　with　it　what　your　instinct　tells　you　he　would　want　done。〃
　〃I'm　asking　for　your　opinion。　You　obviously　wrote　something　in　that　manuscript　that　made　my　grandfather　trust　your　judgment。　He　scheduled　a　private　meeting　with　you。　That's　rare。〃
　〃Maybe　he　wanted　to　tell　me　I　have　it　all　wrong。〃
　〃Why　would　he　tell　me　to　find　you　unless　he　liked　your　ideas？　In　your　manuscript；　did　you　support　the　idea　that　the　Sangreal　documents　should　be　revealed　or　stay　buried？〃
　〃Neither。　I　made　no　judgment　either　way。　The　manuscript　deals　with　the　symbology　of　the　sacred　feminine…tracing　her　iconography　throughout　history。　I　certainly　didn't　presume　to　know　where　the　Grail　is　hidden　or　whether　it　should　ever　be　revealed。〃
　〃And　yet　you're　writing　a　book　about　it；　so　you　obviously　feel　the　information　should　be　shared。〃
　〃There's　an　enormous　difference　between　hypothetically　discussing　an　alternate　history　of　Christ；　and。。。〃　He　paused。
　〃And　what？〃
　〃And　presenting　to　the　world　thousands　of　ancient　documents　as　scientific　evidence　that　the　New　Testament　is　false　testimony。〃
　〃But　you　told　me　the　New　Testament　is　based　on　fabrications。〃
　Langdon　smiled。　〃Sophie；　every　faith　in　the　world　is　based　on　fabrication。　That　is　the　definition　of　faith…acceptance　of　that　which　we　imagine　to　be　true；　that　which　we　cannot　prove。　Every　religion　describes　God　through　metaphor；　allegory；　and　exaggeration；　from　the　early　Egyptians　through　modern　Sunday　school。　Metaphors　are　a　way　to　help　our　minds　process　the　unprocessible。　The　problems　arise　when　we　begin　to　believe　literally　in　our　own　metaphors。〃
　〃So　you　are　in　favor　of　the　Sangreal　documents　staying　buried　forever？〃
　〃I'm　a　historian。　I'm　opposed　to　the　destruction　of　documents；　and　I　would　love　to　see　religious　scholars　have　more　information　to　ponder　the　exceptional　life　of　Jesus　Christ。〃
　〃You're　arguing　both　sides　of　my　question。〃
　〃Am　I？　The　Bible　represents　a　fundamental　guidepost　for　millions　of　people　on　the　planet；　in　much　the　same　way　the　Koran；　Torah；　and　Pali　Canon　offer　guidance　to　people　of　other　religions。　If　you　and　I　could　dig　up　documentation　that　contradicted　the　holy　stories　of　Islamic　belief；　Judaic　belief；　Buddhist　belief；　pagan　belief；　should　we　do　that？　Should　we　wave　a　flag　and　tell　the　Buddhists　that　we　have　proof　the　Buddha　did　not　e　from　a　lotus　blossom？　Or　that　Jesus　was　not　born　of　a　literal　virgin　birth？　Those　who　truly　understand　their　faiths　understand　the　stories　are　metaphorical。〃
　Sophie　looked　skeptical。　〃My　friends　who　are　devout　Christians　definitely　believe　that　Christ　literally　walked　on　water；　literally　turned　water　into　wine；　and　was　born　of　a　literal　virgin　birth。〃
　〃My　point　exactly；〃　Langdon　said。　〃Religious　allegory　has　bee　a　part　of　the　fabric　of　reality。　And　living　in　that　reality　helps　millions　of　people　cope　and　be　better　people。〃
　〃But　it　appears　their　reality　is　false。〃
　Langdon　chuckled。　〃No　more　false　than　that　of　a　mathematical　cryptographer　who　believes　in　the　imaginary　number　'i'　because　it　helps　her　break　codes。〃
　Sophie　frowned。　〃That's　not　fair。〃
　A　moment　passed。
　〃What　was　your　question　again？〃　Langdon　asked。
　〃I　can't　remember。〃
　He　smiled。　〃Works　every　time。〃
　　
　CHAPTER　83
　
　Langdon's　Mickey　Mouse　wristwatch　read　almost　seven…thirty　when　he　emerged　from　the　Jaguar　limousine　onto　Inner　Temple　Lane　with　Sophie　and　Teabing。　The　threesome　wound　through　a　maze　of　buildings　to　a　small　courtyard　outside　the　Temple　Church。　The　rough…hewn　stone　shimmered　in　the　rain；　and　doves　cooed　in　the　architecture　overhead。
　London's　ancient　Temple　Church　was　constructed　entirely　of　Caen　stone。　A　dramatic；　circular　edifice　with　a　daunting　facade；　a　central　turret；　and　a　protruding　nave　off　one　side；　the　church　looked　more　like　a　military　stronghold　than　a　place　of　worship。　Consecrated　on　the　tenth　of　February　in　1185　by　Heraclius；　Patriarch　of　Jerusalem；　the　Temple　Church　survived　eight　centuries　of　political　turmoil；　the　Great　Fire　of　London；　and　the　First　World　War；　only　to　be　heavily　damaged　by　Luftwaffe　incendiary　bombs　in　1940。　After　the　war；　it　was　restored　to　its　original；　stark　grandeur。
　The　simplicity　of　the　circle；　Langdon　thought；　admiring　the　building　for　the　first　time。　The　architecture　was　coarse　and　simple；　more　reminiscent　of　Rome's　rugged　Castel　Sant'Angelo　than　the　refined　Pantheon。　The　boxy　annex　jutting　out　to　the　right　was　an　unfortunate　eyesore；　although　it　did　little　to　shroud　the　original　pagan　shape　of　the　primary　structure。
　〃It's　early　on　a　Saturday；〃　Teabing　said；　hobbling　toward　the　entrance；　〃so　I'm　assuming　we　won't　have　services　to　deal　with。〃
　The　church's　entryway　was　a　recessed　stone　niche　inside　which　stood　a　large　wooden　door。　To　the　left　of　the　door；　looking　entirely　out　of　place；　hung　a　bulletin　board　covered　with　concert　schedules　and　religious　service　announcements。
　Teabing　frowned　as　he　read　the　board。　〃They　don't　open　to　sightseers　for　another　couple　of　hours。〃　He　moved　to　the　door　and　tried　it。　The　door　didn't　budge。　Putting　his　ear　to　the　wood；　he　listened。　After　a　moment；　he　pulled　back；　a　scheming　look　on　his　face　as　he　pointed　to　the　bulletin　board。　〃Robert；　check　the　service　schedule；　will　you？　Who　is　presiding　this　week？〃
　　
　Inside　the　church；　an　altar　boy　was　almost　finished　vacuuming　the　munion　kneelers　when　he　heard　a　knocking　on　the　sanctuary　door。　He　ignored　it。　Father　Harvey　Knowles　had　his　own　keys　and　was　not　due　for　another　couple　of　hours。　The　knocking　was　probably　a　curious　tourist　or　indigent。　The　altar　boy　kept　vacuuming；　but　the　knocking　continued。　Can't　you　read？　The　sign　on　the　door　clearly　stated　that　the　church　did　not　open　until　nine…thirty　on　Saturday。　The　altar　boy　remained　with　his　chores。
　Suddenly；　the　knocking　turned　to　a　forceful　banging；　as　if　someone　were　hitting　the　door　with　a　metal　rod。　The　young　man　switched　off　his　vacuum　cleaner　and　marched　angrily　toward　the　door。　Unlatching　it　from　within；　he　swung　it　open。　Three　people　stood　in　the　entryway。　Tourists；　he　grumbled。　〃We　open　at　nine…thirty。〃
　The　heavyset　man；　apparently　the　leader；　stepped　forward　using　metal　crutches。　〃I　am　Sir　Leigh　Teabing；〃　he　said；　his　accent　a　highbrow；　Saxonesque　British。　〃As　you　are　no　doubt　aware；　I　am　escorting　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Christopher　Wren　the　Fourth。〃　He　stepped　aside；　flourishing　his　arm　toward　the　attractive　couple　behind　them。　The　woman　was　soft…featured；　with　lush　burgundy　hair。　The　man　was　tall；　dark…haired；　and　looked　vaguely　familiar。
　The　altar　boy　had　no　idea　how　to　respond。　Sir　Christopher　Wren　was　the　Temple　Church's　most　famous　benefactor。　He　had　made　possible　all　the　restorations　following　damage　caused　by　the　Great　Fire。　He　had　also　been　dead　since　the　early　eighteenth　century。　〃Um。。。　an　honor　to　meet　you？〃
　The　man　on　crutches　frowned。　〃Good　thing　you're　not　in　sales；　young　man；　you're　not　very　convincing。　Where　is　Father　Knowles？〃
　〃It's　Saturday。　He's　not　due　in　until　later。〃
　The　crippled　man's　scowl　deepened。　〃There's　gratitude。　He　assured　us　he　would　be　here；　but　it　looks　like　we'll　do　it　without　him。　It　won't　take　long。〃
　The　altar　boy　remained　blocking　the　doorway。　〃I'm　sorry；　what　won't　take　long？〃
　The　visitor's　eyes　sharpened　now；　and　he　leaned　forward　whispering　as　if　to　save　everyone　some　embarrassment。　〃Young　man；　apparently　you　are　new　here。　Every　year　Sir　Christopher　Wren's　descendants　bring　a　pinch　of　the　old　man's　ashes　to　scatter　in　the　Temple　sanctuary。　It　is　part　of　his　last　will　and　testament。　Nobody　is　particularly　happy　about　making　the　trip；　but　what　can　we　do？〃
　The　altar　boy　had　been　here　a　couple　of　years　but　had　never　heard　of　this　custom。　〃It　would　be　better　if　you　waited　until　nine…thirty。　The　church　isn't　open　yet；　and　I'm　not　finished　hoovering。〃
　The　man　on　crutches　glared　angrily。　〃Young　man；　the　only　reason　there's　anything　left　of　this