The Lost Symbol

Peter was silent for several seconds, waiting for the concept to soak in. “The Bible is one of the books through which the mysteries have been passed down through history. Its pages are desperately trying to tell us the secret. Don’t you understand? The ‘dark sayings’ in the Bible are the whispers of the ancients, quietly sharing with us all of their secret wisdom.”

Langdon said nothing. The Ancient Mysteries, as he understood them, were a kind of instruction manual for harnessing the latent power of the human mind. a recipe for personal apotheosis. He had never been able to accept the power of the mysteries, and certainly the notion that the Bible was somehow hiding a key to these mysteries was an impossible stretch.

“Peter, the Bible and the Ancient Mysteries are total opposites. The mysteries are all about the god within you. man as god. The Bible is all about the God above you. and man as a powerless sinner.”

“Yes! Exactly! You’ve put your finger on the precise problem! The moment mankind separated himself from God, the true meaning of the Word was lost. The voices of the ancient masters have now been drowned out, lost in the chaotic din of self-proclaimed practitioners shouting that they alone understand the Word. that the Word is written in their language and none other.”

Peter continued down the stairs.

“Robert, you and I both know that the ancients would be horrified if they saw how their teachings have been perverted. how religion has established itself as a tollbooth to heaven. how warriors march into battle believing God favors their cause. We’ve lost the Word, and yet its true meaning is still within reach, right before our eyes. It exists in all the enduring texts, from the Bible to the Bhagavad Gita to the Koran and beyond. All of these texts are revered upon the altars of Freemasonry because Masons understand what the world seems to have forgotten. that each of these texts, in its own way, is quietly whispering the exact same message.” Peter’s voice welled with emotion. “ ‘Know ye not that ye are gods?’”

Langdon was struck by the way this famous ancient saying kept surfacing tonight. He had reflected on it while talking to Galloway and also at the Capitol Building while trying to explain The Apotheosis of Washington.

Peter lowered his voice to a whisper. “The Buddha said, ‘You are God yourself.’ Jesus taught that ‘the kingdom of God is within you’ and even promised us, ‘The works I do, you can do. and greater.’ Even the first antipope — Hippolytus of Rome — quoted the same message, first uttered by the gnostic teacher Monoimus: ‘Abandon the search for God. instead, take yourself as the starting place.’ ”

Langdon flashed on the House of the Temple, where the Masonic Tyler’s chair bore two words of guidance carved across its back: KNOW THYSELF.

“A wise man once told me,” Peter said, his voice faint now, “the only difference between you and God is that you have forgotten you are divine.”

“Peter, I hear you — I do. And I’d love to believe we are gods, but I see no gods walking our earth. I see no superhumans.You can point to the alleged miracles of the Bible, or any other religious text, but they are nothing but old stories fabricated by man and then exaggerated over time.”

“Perhaps,” Peter said. “Or perhaps we simply need our science to catch up with the wisdom of the ancients.” He paused. “Funny thing is. I believe Katherine’s research may be poised to do just that.”

Langdon suddenly remembered that Katherine had dashed off from the House of the Temple earlier. “Hey, where did she go, anyway?”

“She’ll be here shortly,” Peter said, grinning. “She went to confirm a wonderful bit of good fortune.”

Outside, at the base of the monument, Peter Solomon felt invigorated as he inhaled the cold night air. He watched in amusement as Langdon stared intently at the ground, scratching his head and looking around at the foot of the obelisk.

“Professor,” Peter joked, “the cornerstone that contains the Bible is underground. You can’t actually access the book, but I assure you it’s there.”

“I believe you,” Langdon said, appearing lost in thought. “It’s just. I noticed something.”

Langdon stepped back now and surveyed the giant plaza on which the Washington Monument stood. The circular concourse was made entirely of white stone. except for two decorative courses of dark stone, which formed two concentric circles around the monument.

“A circle within a circle,” Langdon said. “I never realized the Washington Monument stands at the center of a circle within a circle.”

Peter had to laugh. He misses nothing. “Yes, the great circumpunct. the universal symbol for God. at the crossroads of America.” He gave a coy shrug. “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

Langdon seemed far off, gazing skyward now, his eyes ascending the illuminated spire, which shone stark white against the black winter sky.