Later that day, before she began the letter, she paused for a moment to reflect on the rampant literature that had been written about the bloodline of the Magdalene. She thought about the endless speculation regarding the emergence of a supposed dynasty.
There was one aspect to this story that had an appeal for her, however. It was an inscription associated with the painting by Nicolas Poussin, "Les Bergers d'Arcadie," the Shepherds of Arcadia, the one that had been such a signpost for those who sought the fulfillment of the bloodline theory.
It said simply et ego in arcadia, I am in Arcadia. Jenna smiled, and picked up her pen.
"To the Roman Catholic Church and its leaders", she began, "Look at how you have led your people astray. Look at how you have caused hatred, division and discord to pollute you! How dare you think that in this you represent the word of God that you have profaned. How dare you believe that you are love!"
"Love is this - it flows like a river out of the heart of Mother Africa who created all of us. She does not distinguish between Her children but loves all equally and without reserve. She is the Great Source. There is no other. From Her heart many tributaries and rivers have sprung, spreading out and populating the world in their own fashion to bring Her reverence. How dare you profane Her name! The shame of all the generations is upon you - you who have maligned this great vision that was given you, and turned your back on Christ and used him for your own gain. You have abdicated your responsibility completely. Unless you purify your heart, you will be cut off from God altogether. In this admonition let me remind you that there is no time to lose. The time is now."
Jenna wrote long into the night. When she was finished, she was tired, but with an exhaustion that brought peace and joy to her heart.
Later that night she had another dream. A young man appeared to her. He had long honey colored hair and a golden beard. He knelt before her in reverence, one hand over his heart and his head bent.
In his other hand was a long-stemmed red rose that matched the color of the cross that was emblazoned on the front of his white tunic.
There was one aspect to this story that had an appeal for her, however. It was an inscription associated with the painting by Nicolas Poussin, "Les Bergers d'Arcadie," the Shepherds of Arcadia, the one that had been such a signpost for those who sought the fulfillment of the bloodline theory.
It said simply et ego in arcadia, I am in Arcadia. Jenna smiled, and picked up her pen.
"To the Roman Catholic Church and its leaders", she began, "Look at how you have led your people astray. Look at how you have caused hatred, division and discord to pollute you! How dare you think that in this you represent the word of God that you have profaned. How dare you believe that you are love!"
"Love is this - it flows like a river out of the heart of Mother Africa who created all of us. She does not distinguish between Her children but loves all equally and without reserve. She is the Great Source. There is no other. From Her heart many tributaries and rivers have sprung, spreading out and populating the world in their own fashion to bring Her reverence. How dare you profane Her name! The shame of all the generations is upon you - you who have maligned this great vision that was given you, and turned your back on Christ and used him for your own gain. You have abdicated your responsibility completely. Unless you purify your heart, you will be cut off from God altogether. In this admonition let me remind you that there is no time to lose. The time is now."
Jenna wrote long into the night. When she was finished, she was tired, but with an exhaustion that brought peace and joy to her heart.
Later that night she had another dream. A young man appeared to her. He had long honey colored hair and a golden beard. He knelt before her in reverence, one hand over his heart and his head bent.
In his other hand was a long-stemmed red rose that matched the color of the cross that was emblazoned on the front of his white tunic.