As I have chronicled previously in these pages, there is something ‘special’ about Rennes-le-Château.
I didn’t know that Henry Lincoln had written about the geometry of the landscape. So, imagine my surprise when I came across this book in a local thrift shop!
In it, he goes through the process of finding a natural pentagram in the land around Rennes-le-Château, formed by the mountain peaks. And then, other alignments present themselves.
When I looked at this previously, there was a presumption that “X” marks the spot of the “Tomb of God”. but now the ‘treasure’ has taken on a more monumental, etheric nature. The whole area is a gigantic Temple.
The Mapping of the Pentagrams
I won’t go into the intricacies of this mapping, but suffice it to say that the implications are huge. And at the centre of all of this is a symbol of the Divine Goddess.
Lincoln himself admits to a lack of true understanding of what this could mean:
“Rennes-le-Château came to the notice of the world because it was the centre of a mystery. Whispers of buried treasure, hints of heresy, suggestions of strange occult rites and of secret societies, even flying saucers have been suggested as the ‘truth’ behind that mystery. This book does not claim to have solved the riddle. Rather am I aware that I have simply dragged into the light of reason why the centre of all this mystification is Rennes-le-Château and not some other location upon the face of the earth.
“And yet still a mystery remains. Over the centuries, countless people must have been aware of the truth of the discovery which I have made. The devisers of the Paris Meridian, the painter Poussin, the priests Bigou, Boudet and Saunière — and how many others? In one way or another they felt the need, like the Barber of Midas, to pass on their secret knowledge, and they did so cryptically. They spoke in riddles because they seemed to be gripped by some mysterious constraint. Why? It is a resonant question and one which I cannot answer. I certainly feel no such constraint. Nor can I see any reason to conceal such a discovery. It may be, though, that my willingness to reveal it owes less to my knowledge of the discovery than it does to my ignorance of its implications for my predecessors.
“I am aware of no necessity to speak in riddles as they have done. But in that necessity may lie the greatest mystery of all.“
We love a good mystery. We love researching to uncover the Truth. But what if we have no clue as to why there should even be a mystery in the first place?
I suspect that the Truth is stranger than fiction.