by Krishna Rose
“A passionate soul-stirring happiness seemed to increase at every moment. Then the sound of my name called from somewhere deep inside the forest, yet at the same time it felt closer to me than my own soul. Was the sound coming from inside of me, or from without? I did not know.
“Hundreds of youthful maids came running toward me. Dressed in silks finer than ether, their limbs were decorated more beautifully than the greatest stars in the night sky. Shining like moons, they gathered up flowers, singing in a foreign tongue that was charming and fair. Though I knew not what they spoke of, my soul recognized their song and I yearned to speak with them. But no words would come. They smiled and giggled innocently, like children, guiding me to a river, where they bathed and dressed my new body—which felt light and free from the heaviness of manly flesh. My mind instantly became filled with one thought: When would I see the Lord?
“In this mood, I sat motionless on the bank of the river until a darkness engulfed the light and a heavy melancholy overtook me. Eventually, after what felt like a long time waiting, I drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Once the moon was high, the transcendent sound reached for me once more. No one can learn about the mystery of these matters, it must be experienced to understand. It was as if the Lord Himself held me within the palm of His hand.
“I was guided into the darkest region of the forest. It was so black, that I could not see, and for a moment I thought I might be blind. But my feet kept moving where I was led, in a most hurried manner, though I knew not where I was, nor where I was going. An air of excitement hung in the air. It carried in its essence many intoxicating layers of fragrance, like fine powders, which drenched me in salutations as I passed through them.
“Upon reaching our destination, I was taken into a flowering field, where two brilliant lights were seated upon a throne beneath a shining tree. The lights were so bright that I could not see clearly what was before me. I kneeled and bowed my head to the ground, sensing the importance of that moment, for I had found the source of the music which had called me for so long. And as I did so, the young girls sang in soft, appealing layers of harmony. It was enchanting. ‘Klim kama-deva-ya vid-mahe, pushpa bhan-aya…’ their sweet voices caroled. ‘I have accepted you,’ a voice said.”
“Did you see the Lord?” John asked excitedly. Jesu pondered a moment, nodding his head. “Tell us Brother, what does He look like?”
“What I can tell you without doubt,” he said adamantly, “Is that He is not an old man, nor does He have a flowing white beard, nor is He condemning people to Heaven and Hell,” to which we all laughed restlessly.
“The Chief of Creation is a wonderous sight to behold. Crowned upon His head are the finest sapphires, rubies, and gold. His face is filled with the twinkling of stars. His eyes are dewy as lilies and doves, which by rivers of milk and honey are restless. His body is fragrant like sweet-smelling myrrh. His hair is long, black, and curly. His skin is as a raven, dark and shimmering at night, yet bright as the cooling moon in the sky in day. His cheeks are red as a bed of spices. His hands are fine as roses set in shimmering gold. His chest is broad as mountains, overlaid with topaz and diamonds. His legs are like the strongest pillars of marble wrapped in gold,” he detailed, breathlessly elated.
“Yay, He is youthful and sweet, and He chose me to be his risen son,” he said, wiping away the tears which rained down upon his parched cheeks. His soul groaned, as if he yearned for another world, yet more so for his Lord, whom he loved with all his heart.
“And with that, I was catapulted from the Kingdom, to return to the world of mortals—carried upon the sound of my wife’s petitions,” he chuckled, searching me with his eyes. “I am reborn not as a man, but as a spirit on earth,” he said honestly.
His words made me tremble.
“The Kingdom is nigh’, I have seen it. It is as it should be. Yet now I find myself neither here, nor there, so how am I to live?” he said, scratching his head as if bewildered.
“The Lord gave you visions of loveliness, not so as to distress you, Jesu,” I said, “but to give you, and all of us hope.”
I smoothed his ruffled brow, covering his trembling body with a blanket, curling up together—a grateful united family.
—Where there is darkness, the light is sure to come.
CHAPTER 20
HEALING
Healing is when one is relieved from suffering by a curative, or a person, who has the power to help us recover from sickness of mind or body. Healing comes to us like the dew of mercy to make us well again.
Jesu had been painfully quiet since returning from the grave. We had seen this same solemnity in my brother, Lazarus. Recognizing this, we gave him the privacy and time he needed, so that he could heal from his rite of passage. After his impassioned sharing the night before, he seemed refreshingly restored. It had been a curative for him to speak of his struggles. Though there was a disturbing amount of trauma, his spirit, driven by the severity of his experience, went to the ultimate destination—and for that, I believe we all would die a thousand miserable deaths.
“You know Marjan, it was foretold that two Messiahs would come,” he whispered, leaning into my ear provocatively. Nodding, I blushed, feeling his close proximity to me after so many moons.
“The destiny of the Messianic messengers is one—to open the floodgates of divine understanding and mercy. To inundate the world with Kingdom consciousness, would mean making accessible to all, not only the educated and elite of this world, things which have long since been hidden. John doubted me, yet between you and I, it was I who doubted him,” he said raising an eyebrow.
“However, without John, the ground would not have been tilled and the seeds which were sown might not have taken root. He was not only a cousin to me, but a teacher and friend. Still, I doubted his Messianic status, in spite of the peer pressure to believe in him,” he said earnestly.
“John was great. I knew him better than any,” I admitted, “but he was no Messiah. It was always meant to be you who fulfilled the prophecy. And now, risen from death, you have served mankind in ways none can yet fully understand.”
“Marjan, have you ever considered that if John was not the first Messiah, who the subsequent one might be?”
“I hadn’t thought of it,” I said nonchalantly, applying henna to Sarah-Tamar’s hands, adeptly weaving the paste into intricate designs.
“Marjan, I am the cup and you are the water. I am the vessel, and you are that which fills it. I am the son and you are the daughter. I am the branch and you are its fruit. I am incomplete without you, as you are incomplete without me. What I sow, you reap. Do you understand what I am saying?” he asked, pulling me to him to lay a tender kiss upon my cheek.
I romanticized his words in my mind and enjoyed his attentions, but still I did not understand the true implications of what he was saying.
“One cannot succeed without the other. Part of my responsibility is that you would know of your divine decree,” he entreated, nudging me playfully, seeing that I wasn’t grasping what he implied.
“Oh no,” I gasped, wiping a smeared line of henna with my apron. “Look what you made me do!” I chortled.
He was lit with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. A cool breeze brushed across my skin and my hairs stood on end. Sinking back into the comfort of my robe, I set the henna aside, pleased with the delicate patterns I had drawn on my daughter’s palms, and Sarah-Tamar wandered over to her tented area to dry her tattoos in the sun—alone.
“What is it you are saying, Jesu?” I queried, curious of where he was headed with this. “What decree?”
“When I passed from death, returning to life, I bore witness to many things past, present, and future,” he said with a sudden seriousness to his voice. “The thing
s we have done and said will cause chaos and confusion in the world. Men of cloth will, in the future, record in books the things I have taught, and stories of my life shall be recounted throughout the world. Many will come to know of our ways, and our names will be steadfast upon the tongues and minds of thirsty souls everywhere. Scribes will establish organizations in mine and my mother’s names, as a carefully contrived design to dominate and rule—not so as to keep covenant with the Lord.
“Our ways will in time, be lost to great displays of wealth and pontifical imperialism. The splendor of the teachings which sprout of our true faith, will be suppressed, and the full grasp of what I endeavored so hard to bring, will be deferred,” he sniffed, ostensibly aggrieved, a look of scorn flashing across his face.
Narrowing his eyes which were moist with tears, he asked, “Did I sacrifice my life for this?”
“Honest and sincere people having faith in me, will be misled, and even massacred in my name. Wars will ensue and the world for a time will drown in bigotry, injustice, and intolerance—but more—with my name at its helm,” he said with somber restraint. Cupping his head in his hands, staring down at his crippled feet, he broke into sobs.
Throwing my robe aside, I knelt before him pressing my face against his. “Jesu, your message will live on. Truth by its very nature will rise up through the darkness, just as the sun rises each morn without fail. It has been ordained. Therefore, it must be so. Our life stories are not important, they are but dust in the wind. The Lord hath sent His messengers to earth to call forth souls of all faith, and their fate lies with the Lord and the Lord alone. Therefore, do not fret my love, for what comes to pass is but the workings of His will on earth,” I reminded him.
“You are a wise woman beyond your years, Marjan,” he said, stealing a kiss from my lips quickly. My face grew warm with embarrassment. I could feel his eyes blazing down on me, searching me with concern.
“So what is my purpose in all of this?” I asked.
“It is not my will that it be so, yet there are things I have seen. Things which shall . . . things I feel ashamed to utter in your presence . . .” he stammered dejectedly. “Your name shall come to be associated with that of a fallen woman, and with your downfall, all women shall be cast aside as whores—other than my mother,” he said nervously, turning his head from my gaze. “She shall come to be renowned as a goddess, not unlike Isis.”
A lump came into my throat.
“Men of cloth, with pride at their helm, will burn women for the sake of a religion they bring into existence in my name. You Mary, shall be famed, not as my wife, but as a . . .” he stifled. His eyes closed, as if searching for the right words to best explain what he had seen.
“As a what, Jesu?”
“It is hard to speak of such things, Mary,” he said, opening his eyes slightly to reveal his darkened inner struggle.
“Tell me and I shall accept any fate God wills for me. There is no shame in matters of spirit, for I am innocent.”
“Your name will be trademarked as a fallen woman—a sinner—a prostitute, redeemed by me,” he said quickly, as if relieved to finally speak things which should never be spoken.
A long silence ensued, as I tried to digest his words. I nodded, feeling my stomach sink.
“This should not surprise us, husband” I said, laughing nervously, attempting to make light of the situation. “But what of our children and their offspring? What is their fate if they are known as the children of a sinner?” I speculated, as an icy-cold shiver ran down my spine.
“They shall say we were never married and shall denounce that any child came forth from my loins. They will cut off my manhood and determine me as impotent. And for what cause?” he said through pursed lips. “That men shall surrender their natural proclivity to marry and procreate, for one end—that the wealth and lands of generations, having no offspring to bequeath it to, should be administered unto the church. Tell me this. If the Lord willed it that man should forever remain celibate, why then did He make woman to bear man’s children?
“By such greed shall they gather unto themselves at great speed, collecting resources and bounty for their own evil-minded cause—and worse, for promises of eternal guarantee for the sacrifice thereof. Men of scripture shall impart false teachings upon the world, who shall forthwith look upon women with disdain. The daughters of Eve will be perceived as fallen women, who tear men from righteousness—and even from the Lord Himself! Your name will be like Eve’s. Two whipping girls bound by man’s vile design,” he said, staring at his feet, regretfully. Sighing heavily, with a downturned mouth, he clenched his jaw, grimacing.
“What is the Lord’s plan in this?” I asked, disheartened by his hurtful conclusion.
“Honest, adherent supporters of our cause, shall give themselves to a life of illegal meetings, to uphold the true message of God. While the robed men shall attire thee with the title “repentant prostitute.” And the truth of your significance will be, by that one word, removed from the equation. By this imposition, license to remove women and ultimately, the Goddess, will entirely become their right, and with it, they claim authority over the Messianic throne, which they lasciviously take from our descendants in an attempt to garner power unto themselves. Man’s supremacy shall, by way of oppression and tyranny, ensue. Yet worse, it is done in my name. This is far from the doctrine that I envisaged,” he groaned.
“Then His will be done. Indeed, it must be for the good of us all. Anyway, husband, most surely my ego could not survive such a manner of shame!” I said haughtily, with my nose stuck in the air. Together we howled at the folly of my banter.
“Religion is a powerful means of business and such power shall be held in the hands of a few. It will be, as it always has been. The Sanhedrin and Pharisees in new cloth, in different times—yet with the same wretched plan. New rules and rituals contrived in my name shall be the means by which they seek to control. And though their devotees may be honest and faithful, the tether of the new church will, for a time, confine them by duty.
“The gates of the Kingdom are to be replaced by a master stroke of governance. Rule shall become the order of the day. Our descendants, committed to keeping our covenant, disguise themselves in furtive gatherings, detesting the powers that be, for their wickedness and vile deeds. It is they who shall swear to protect our legacy with their lives, and by the Lord’s grace, they shall find favor in Him and bear fruits long into the future. The seeds of our vine shall grow strong, in spite of their offensive onslaughts. They will not extinguish that which cannot be quelled—for when the Lord is with you, no man can put you asunder,” he said hopefully, his seeping hands clasped together in prayer, eyes closed.
Popping a dry date into my mouth, he watched as I chewed, pondering the things expressed privately between us.
“So what is my part in this?” I asked, still confused by the mystery.
“Glad tidings hath befallen us, Marjan,” he said with sudden optimism in his voice. “Thou art in all seriousness—anointed. ‘Twas always so. So gather yourself up and be encouraged. Revered in the Heavens, as the one by whom many shall be saved—lend your serious hearing, for you are the other half of the Messianic mission at hand. The Lord will have it be so. Henceforth, our lives are not our own. Our conceived purpose is, by the Lord’s grace, beyond this life. It will expand over time. Though the truth of our love may forever be reduced to a thing of fables and conspiracy, still, we shall quicken many souls’ sojourn to the Kingdom, and by it, the Lord will be well pleased . . . and His pleasure is our objective. In truth, it is you who will be the second leg of our Messianic victory.”
“Messiah?” I whispered, uneasily.
“Yes, Marjan. I have seen it. It is your destiny. You will, in the distant future, pour forth water upon the f
ires of deceit. Sponsored by kismet, your soul will triumph over the dishonor they inflict upon our bloodline. In doing so, the landscape will be healed, wars will end and peace shall again reign upon earth.
“In time, we become the heroes of our story, and all shall pay homage to thy esteemed restoration. At that time, recollections of our life together, shall flood your remembrance of times past, and the Lord shall send kindred folk to be your guide. Our family and friends too, are to take birth in that final unfolding.
“But your charge will be to remedy the false, by thy good works, which shall be for the sake of all. In time, your name, will rouse change and right the wrongs of humanity. You will come to be known as the watcher over the flock, and your name will unanticipatedly be everywhere. Regardless of the lies spread by history’s deceitful storytellers who may throw thee to the wind—fate shall restore thee. It is deemed to be so. Women, and the feminine divine, will be restored and the Heavens shall celebrate in your victories.”
“In that case, with wholehearted undeviating effort I shall dedicate myself to the task at hand, husband” I said, sensing that I had somehow already recognized this to be the truth of my soul’s destiny. “If the Messianic title has been passed to me, then I will endeavor to seek what must be found, that others might see a light in the darkness,” I stated matter-of-factly.
Jesu dissolved into laughter, at seeing how soberly I accepted my charge. “Why do you laugh, husband? I feel privileged, nay humbled by the enormity of my sovereign crown and I intend to do whatever the Lord wills,” I asserted, pretending to hold a crown steady upon my head.
“Thou art the anointed one, m’ Lady,” he said facetiously, bowing his head to me, both of us playful for the first time a long while.