by Krishna Rose
She often came home at dawn, describing the chanting as an act of immense freedom—a kind of spiritual delirium. This reminded me of my vision, wherein freedom from inhibition was seen as a critical Rite of Purification and transformation.
Sarah-Tamar had grown into a powerful woman. She was wild and fiercely independent. She was every inch her father’s daughter—dark and brooding, yet devoted. She waited anxiously for letters to arrive from Gallia, for since her betrothal to the Prince of Compostela, she had little else on her mind. Their back-and-forth letters, no doubt contained within them, declarations of their love, and upon our return, arrangements for their marriage would quickly follow.
Her espousal would however bring about a painful separation for our family, as the Prince was expecting his future Queen to live with him in Compostela. By then, he would most likely ascend the throne, for his father was of frail disposition. I had known this inevitable twist of fate would one day come, yet I was little prepared, as a mother, to watch my daughter leave. We had this trip together and then she would be gone from me, to start her own life and family. It is as nature intended, and this would be one step towards my own withdrawal from family needs—toward the inner travels I so fervently craved.
Despite the inconveniences of being wayfarers, the ladies and I maintained our ablutions together at dawn and dusk each day. And even though travel was hard, we kept Shabbat sacred, making camp to celebrate our holy days. Our gypsy friends and curious travelers joined us as we broke bread, reciting the ancient prayers together, united as one. Our prayers rang out into the blanket of stars that watched from the darkened night skies above—as witnesses of our devotional petitions.
Idols and deities were long since considered a sacrilege to the Jewish people, despite Abraham and his grandson Jacob both being entirely devoted to their deity, Bethel—whom they considered to be God Himself. On the Silk Road, worship of the deity was no mere idol worship, but an actual religious process, wherein people had faith that the Lord could inhabit their statues in order to receive tributes, offerings, and oblations upon the altar.
Jesu reveled in meeting with the tribes and soon became a popular figure among them. He often taught in parables and stories, and like bees to honey, the people flocked to him. Without social customs and religious expectations, we truly united the spiritual family at large.
Uncle Joseph had business in all the major cities we passed through, consequently we came to dine with politicians and courtiers as we moved from city to city. We ladies were especially delighted by the comforts of real beds, bathing pools, and fresh clothes, which felt so good to our tired, dirty bodies. Jesu always gave humble thanks to our hosts by bathing their feet. And as we sat upon their luxurious couches and soft pillows, he told them stories, afterwards offering to heal their sick. Our fame unfolded naturally, yet in spite of it, we sympathized with all whom we met, faithfully offering them blessings and renewing hope in their hearts.
The Romans sent agents to explore the route, in order to obtain silk at a lower price than that set by the Parthians. For this reason we were especially cautious. Publicly, we spoke only in Greek, until we were safely behind closed doors. Though our popularity flourished, we still were always discreet so as not to arouse suspicion.
The most significant commodity carried along the route was not silk, but faith. Jesu, being well versed in the ways of Buddhism, eagerly conversed with the Buddhist monks, who invited us to stay at their monastery in Hemis. The monks proposed that the Shamans in Hemis could assist Jesu in his recovery, for their knowledge of curative healing was vast. They petitioned him to come and teach the resident brothers there, whose lives were entirely dedicated to the way. Jesu agreed, so a plan was made for us to head for Hemis once we reached the Himalaya mountain region.
It was a lively pilgrimage. We were all of us happy to be free of the confines and conformity of Roman and Judaic rule. I felt inebriated living so close to the elements, with the winds of hope and change upon our brows. We mingled diplomatically and respectfully, as humans should, side by side. Without crooked leaders, whose desire for power and control seemed to drive mankind into illusions of division—we were peacefully united.
Masterfully disconnected, governments and religious leaders have conveniently and advantageously dominated people, who consequently become weak and disempowered—by design. Our wish was to reunite the people under one God, peacefully, and inspire them towards the common goal of ascension.
Our boy, Jesus Justus, was always to be found riding on someone’s shoulders, throwing his head about, singing wildly unformed words at the top of his lungs. He was a raw expression of pure joy. His hair had grown long and lightened by the sun, a stark contrast to his golden skin. Thus, he was beautiful to behold and all were enamored by him. He loved the animals and liked to spend time every day chatting with the dogs, horses, camels, goats, and donkeys, in his own brand of childish gibberish.
A group of wild dogs followed our group for hundreds of miles. They protected us at night, as payment for our leftovers. We could hear them fighting with other packs and hyenas, who also searched for something to eat in the dead of night. Our little companions fought for dominance and gave us safe passage as we headed North. Indeed, we were all of us grateful for the security they afforded us, and we rewarded them well.
Paul had followed the letter of the law all of his life. After a three-day journey into the underworld, his blindness was healed. Just as Jesu had promised. He henceforth travelled far and wide, preaching the glories of his Master. He was a restored man. However, Paul had his own ideas, as well as boundless energy and a matching ego.
He suffered from severe attacks which he blamed on demons. Being a sodomite, he had always felt a deep inner struggle, for in our society it was considered a grave sin to be inclined that way. As he wrestled with his desires, he was plagued with feelings of inadequacy. His hatred for women, spurred the basis of his teachings—which were harsh and rejecting. Paul’s ideas of redemption and release from inner crisis became his headline. Though a disciple, he soon became the black sheep in the flock. His faith was strong and his experience inspired a nation of people—however, his teachings soon became warped, something which we, over time, would battle against. After a while, Paul’s rantings grew into outpourings of his repressed prejudices and self-hatred. The teachings he expressed became a neurosis born of his own obsessive behavior.
We received word that Paul was on route to Jerusalem to meet with Brother James and Peter, to discuss the future of the church. One-hundred-and-twenty disciples met on Peter’s upper roof-top room in the city center. Many had tried to fill Judas’s trustworthy position within our brethren, yet not one had thus far proved themselves worthy. So once again, the brothers gathered together to elect someone, voting between Barsabbas Justus and Matthias. After prayer, they chose Matthias. Paul left disappointed, as he had hoped to be voted in.
Jesu, no longer coy, preached fearlessly. It was as if a heavy blanket had been lifted from him. In an attempt to convert the ‘heathens,’ as Paul liked to called them, he preached that Jesu not only rose from the dead like Horus, but too, was born of a virgin. “Jesu is a god, not a man,” he told the people. “Perhaps he is Horus or Osiris returned to us,” he evangelized, “and his mother—the returned Queen Isis.”
Paul taught that Jesu was a celibate man who preferred the company of men, which I was sure Peter would have liked immensely. Perhaps it was Paul’s innermost preference for male companions, which made him rule for women to be banned entirely from their meetings—declaring this is to be a faith belonging to man alone.
Paul at that time, knew nothing of me or our children. Only later did he come to learn from James, that in fact Jesu was married. Paul’s fabricated stories took off, and soon people converted to his popular religion, believing that the gods were again
walking amongst the living. Thus, a new faith sprouted from our branch. One which none of us were much pleased with. Nevertheless, the message of caring for the poor and healing the sick quickly spread far and wide.
Slowly, churches and temples dedicated to Isis, converted to the Marian belief, believing The Mary to be the Virgin Mother, Queen Isis—whose miracle son was born of God, not of man. Like a wildfire, word spread, and once again we were in danger of a different kind—this time of being gods on earth. Little did we realize how great a cult would arise out of this farfetched tale.
With priests officiating as saviors, declaring to the crowds, “Through me you shall be saved,” backhandedly they collected money for their coffers, in exchange for promises of forgiveness in the spiritual world. Innocent believers purchased so-called liberation from priests for their transgressions, believing they could be free of accountability from their sins.
Kingdom consciousness was soon to be outweighed by materialism, for the priests came to dine upon gold plates whilst living in palaces—sometimes greater than those of Kings and Queens. People attached themselves in a faithful and trusting way, as good people do, to rituals and teachings which were a far cry from what we came to give.
Jesu requested Ananias, one of our new followers, to visit Paul, but Ananias was afraid of the persecutor. So Jesu set about plans to meet Paul himself, as Paul seemed hellbent on spreading his own interpretation of our lives. Jesu wanted him stopped. Paul concocted false stories, which he preached with commandment and conviction, so that many followed him. Yet no matter how much we disagreed with him over the years, nothing could penetrate his zeal, for he was resolute to do as he willed. He was quite obviously besotted with the sound of his own voice.
Jesu eventually requested all our brethren to remove links to him. Even Brother James, who was so admirable in his piety, laid disgrace upon Paul, after the deceit and falsity of his ways were brought to his attention. Jesu had a timeless trust in all things, and he reminded us of the greater subject at hand, which was to realize the Kingdom within.
Lepers came from far and wide to the Trail, in hope of meeting herbalists who might carry with them the latest cures from the East. Jesu organized the lepers into groups, to receive healing and baptism, so as to be cured of mind, body, and spirit. The lepers were feared by all. Thus, people were astonished to see Jesu lay hands upon them valiantly, so that they might be healed—and they were healed. News soon spread far and wide of his mysterious works.
Receiving letters from my sister always cheered me, for since our mother had passed on, Martha was both a sister and mother to me. Though she would not be much spoken of in later stories, she was integral to everything. She wrote to me about all the goings-on in the community. Of Lazarus, and of Mary-Salome. Our brother was named Bishop of the region, having founded the first Gnostic Church in Gallia, which thrived in Jesu’s name.
CHAPTER 25
DEVOTION
The things of the Lord cannot be measured. If you have problems, know that the Lord is not behind them. Therefore, turn not from Him as you run from your problems, but rather turn to Him, for He is the source of your solace.
The steep mountain roads of the Himalayas were difficult to pass, and at times treacherous. Narrow roads and harrowing slopes made life seem especially fragile. With one wrong slip of the foot or hoof, we could all be plunged to certain death.
The daytime sky was bright azure, while at night, the limitless stars seemed to in some way symbolize our limited ability to understand what lay beyond. The awe-inspiring landscape was a testament to the wonders of our creator, of whom we know so little. The region was far more beautiful than I had imagined, with lush green valleys, sweeping rivers, and looming waterfalls. Its far-reaching forests, were home to wild animals like tigers, snow leopards, and deer.
Climbing higher, we soon found it difficult to walk for long stretches at a time, as the thinning air often left us breathless. Lying down in the back of the caravans, we rested, while the poor overworked horses pulled us high into the mountains. The rattling of the wagon over the rough terrain rocked me to sleep, bringing with it another vision, and I was glad of it, for it had been many moons since my last.
Climbing one hand and one foot at a time, my breath unfurling before me, I scaled the precipice of a tall mountain. As it is with visions, each movement felt slow and purposeful, yet arduous, like walking in water. Blinking, I stopped for a moment to catch my bearings. Suspended high above the clouds, I was on the edge of a volcanic crag which gave the impression of being steeped in mystery. Steam and fire draped the dramatic landscape, though the rocks were cool to my touch.
Pulling myself up onto a ledge, I hastened away from its edge as a lightning bolt flashed in the air. Hidden behind a tumble and heave of moss—was a stone door. A rapturous clap of thunder incited me to pry the entrance open without delay. The rains fell hard on the mountain and my need for shelter was imminent, as my footing could easily become uncertain.
Laying my hand upon the heavy stone, I was startled, for it seemed to somehow identify my spirit, as though it had foreseen my arrival there—I was being appraised. As another rumble of thunder shook the mountain, the entrance opened slowly. A swathe of greenish-blue tangled moss, tore from its roots, unsealing itself, that I might gain access to what lay beyond. Excitement hastily carried me inside of the shadowy antechamber.
“Hail and welcome,” said the familiar voice of the High-Priest offering me repose. “Step into the light,” he beckoned.
As I moved slowly through the darkness, towards the sound of his voice, I fell weightlessly into the arms of an angelic light, which had appeared out of nowhere, lifting me off the ground. I hovered for a while in safety, satisfied inside a profound calm. A quiet euphoria washing over me—suspending me between a sense of time and timelessness. I could perceive the endless ages, of what had been and what has yet to come. Then all at once, I was catapulted out of the chamber, cast into the passage vaults of Heaven without hope of reaching back.
“So it is in death, Mary. Swift as life is given unto us, so too is it taken,” the High-Priest called after me.
Before I could reason with him, the wind had caught me in its seductive outmaneuver, and wings, like champions, stretched out behind me, perched on the rear side of my spirit which now soared out over the oceans. Exhilarated, my wings capably willed me higher and higher, plunging me through a vortex of lifetimes, from cradle to grave. In a flash I saw myself, time and again, existing from birth until death, thrown from one life to the next, without pause, many times over. My head spun with images of enduring connections, long since forgotten.
Catching my breath, I lifted myself up with the forcefulness of my will, fueled by my wings, which energized and drove me upward. Climbing further—higher, above the quagmire of memories, which once rang true for me, stripped of my identity and unburdened of the flesh, I felt an unstoppable freedom. A fresh unfastened energy filled my spirit with vigor. Spontaneity drove me forward, faster and higher, my spirit unfurling with new unrestrained will.
The great wheel of life circled and I witnessed firsthand, the seasons, changing swifter than my breath. The movements of the sun, moon, and stars, stretched out into the vast space beyond, which drew me like a magnet. From the insecurity of darkness, to the warmth of the light, my soul had clear vision. Breaking through sorrow, to joy, I turned pain to ineffable triumph, with canticles of praise upon my tongue. Reunited with prayer like an intimate lover, I gave myself unto the sacred inner body, which was agile, subtle, and capable of anything.
It is impossible to entirely describe the incomparable lightness of the spirit, which shone like the brightest lone star against the blackened sky. This is the beauty found in all creatures. It is marvelous, astonishing and impossible. Our Lord’s mind gave life unto us ou
t of His own body. And it is by the joy of His imagination, that we exist at all. His love hath overflowed into us, and in that moment, I could recognize how each soul was anchored in Him by the umbilical cord of His holy tenderness toward us. By it, our souls are eternally betrothed unto Him.
My body felt invincible. In His blessed presence, I am adorned . . . arisen in the brilliance of His hankering for all creatures great and small. The mystery of God’s mercy has been deposited into our engraved hearts, wherein He has written sonnets, describing His most mournful yearning for us. Language is entirely inadequate to express the experience that this beatific vision bestowed upon me.
I saw a great migration of all the people I had ever known, as well as the many places I had lived. Each of them lucidly meddled with me. Memories lurched, grabbing at my newfound freedom, attempting to weaken my resolve. I escaped their grasp, whilst each pulsing recollection followed me, pushing its way into my mind, pleading for me to be reunited and restored with it. Lifetime after lifetime of remembrances made me waiver for but a moment, and I was instantly plunged into the abyss below.
“The goal, Mary—keep your inner eye on the goal . . .” the voice of the High-Priest reminded me.
Alert to the potent power and appeal of my memories, I swooped down on them, asserting command over their beguiling pretense.
“Shame on you! You are nothing but chalky illusions designed to shackle me to death’s fleshy ceremonials!” I thundered. “My spirit will no longer be deceived by your worldly dishonesties! What was once, is no longer! Now I am filled with divine purpose. Hence memories, be gone from me!” I commanded. And like smoke dismissed from fire, they dissipated, surrendering to my abandonment of them.