The Ancient Witnesses

54 • The Ancient Witnesses: A Journey to Discover Our Sacred Roots

“Then why are they all facing the other way?” asked Cesar. The Athenaeum surrounded us like an auditorium filled with people seated in several sections. But there were no risers or bleachers; everyone sat on the same level, and the focus was outward. Something about the layout seemed familiar. Taking the drawing made by our guide from my pocket, I could now see that it was the floor plan for this place. Seven of the pie-shaped sections were filled with the ancient witnesses; the eighth section was the hall of books. “What up? ” said Preacher, looking at crowd. Each of the sections were filled with people arrayed in robes, tunics, togas, and priestly vestments. Some of these ancient-looking garments appeared to be made of animal skin, roughly stitched together. Others were woven of fine linen, ornate and beautiful, with silk appliques. A few men were clad in armor—one held a shield, another had a sword strapped to his side. Several others carried shepherds’ staffs in their hands. Everyone was talking and no one seemed to notice us. “Exactly what kind of library is this?” Joseph asked our guide. “The Athenaeum is a living library,” he explained, “the authors themselves explain their works.” “Dang!” said Preacher, “you mean we get to check out the authors and not just the books?” Our guide smiled, and Cesar looked as if he’d been transported to heaven. Once more I thought of Father Greg, who would love this place and could probably explain what we were seeing. When I told our guide there was someone else I wanted