by Krishna Rose
This veil was steeped in tragic affliction.
“In this tier of the creation you will encounter the mountains and lakes of people’s envy,” he announced, pointing with his staff, which spread light into all directions so that I could see the ravaging carnage. Queasy, my stomach wretched, for the stench was too much to bear. To my core, I was intimidated by sight of the unembellished decomposed dead.
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He made me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul, leading me on the path of righteousness for His name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley in the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for He is with me. His rod and His staff comfort me . . .” I whispered.
“This is a place where the greedy are held accountable for their crimes. For in life, to have what they willed at any cost, they killed and harmed many people, beasts, and even the natural world, in order to gain power and possessions,” the High-Priest said dispassionately. “It is here that the grate of envy, which pushed people to do unspeakable things, is depicted in shameless rendering. Enviousness is so subtle, that it infiltrates the heart like a quiet poison—slowly destroying goodness and mercy. Jealousy which was hidden from us in life, is here disclosed, and greed is its counterpart.
“This is the grave of harm which in life people have shoveled for themselves. Look around you and face the truth of the third veil,” he said, presiding over a slew of souls with his staff stretched out above his head. It was as if he were under a spell, for so thunderous did he seem.
Seemingly endless cliffs, hemmed in the lawbreakers from all sides, like prison walls. I could see no end to the vertical escarpments, for they entirely dominated the overcast terrain. A legion of emaciated shadow souls, betrayed by their own avarice, climbed upon the steep walls of the rocky crags in search of a summit—their hollow-cheek faces wrought with an urgent need for dominance. One by one, they pointlessly scaled the walls in hope of reaching the top—hollow dreams. Verily their efforts were in vain, for there was no end to the looming cliffs. Still, the bony creatures scaled the slippery shale, determinedly, only to henceforth be thrown back down into the pit of gnarled corpses below.
Heavy-hearted, I beheld them as they frantically fed on the flesh of their competitors, only to rise again with renewed vigor but moments later. Still now, they had a sense of purpose and a glint in their eyes. Laboring hard, their need for dominion drove them forward again and again into bloody battles for power, with no possibility of success. Resentment coerced them to continue, forgetful of having just fallen from so great a height—screaming in terror as they were cut down.
Those higher up towered over the rest—only to tumble down, while those who were beneath were now suddenly atop and insults rang out. Competitively, they compelled their emaciated bodies to scale the steep precipice. Their relentless attempts drove the mob forth—without once pausing to assess the truth of their situation.
Downplaying others’ successes, they flaunted themselves hatefully, celebrating in each other’s failures. Gossiping and criticizing, they exposed the truth of their own vile wickedness. Feelings of inferiority were everywhere, propelling them to act hatefully—grabbing at one another to plunge them down into the swamps below. Reputation and eminence rose inside of them like a snake, as these creatures scrambled over me, cursing, with their incessant comments to undermine others’ success.
Obsessing about what others did or did not do, they looked upon me with contempt, mocking me nastily. My muscles ached, for there was such tension in the air. The beaches brimmed with the bones, feces, and blood of all those who tried and failed. Gnawed by a necessity to be seen as successful, wealthy, popular, highborn, important, learned, and even holy—the osseous creatures fought with one another out of wretched animosity. Malice and spite circulated in the wind. I felt undone. Victimized.
Believing themselves to be enviable, more than any other, they wanted power over each other by any means—jinxing one another to become sick and die, depriving the kindness of blessings upon each other. They were unreservedly under the spell of jealousy. Desiring to have what others have, they wished for each other’s nonachievement and disappointment. Enmity and revenge had blinded their intelligence bringing to them grave misfortune.
“Lord, please guide my heart and remove any ill-will from my heart wherever it may hide” I prayed, eager to have the strength of character so as to never envy those who have more than me.
“Bridled bitterness compels the envious to wage gossip against the enviable, searching for a way to express jealousy’s vile, bitter poison. Such sins may be hidden from view for a time, but inevitably they find a way of overthrowing the suppression which held tight the reins of their deceit—revealing their true ill-feeling nature inside.”
I stood up, brushing the remains of the dead from my dress, watching in disgust as the creatures snatched hold of one another, attempting to see others fail by any means, pushing them off the mountain side. Their rivalry was so strong, that as their competitor fell, so too did their resentment forcefully heave them into the carnage and bloodbath below. Baffled by so much self-infatuation, I asked the High-Priest to take me away from this awful place. I did not wish to remain a minute longer.
“The sin of enviousness drives people to behave shamelessly. Hiding their true nature behind friendly smiles and polite manners—they pretend. And though the wealthy, beautiful, and famous, who are envied by many, may for a time live in a palace of gold—they do not see the stilts which prop them so high. For all the while, the forces of time seek to take it from them, for even the mighty must fall. The beautiful become ugly, the rich become poor, and those who are renowned shall have slander and disgrace upon their heels. Ultimately the lesson of humility is essential to each person’s growth.
“Born with a jaundiced eye, those who wish others ill for the sake of their own cursed need to see failure in those they envy—are brought to evil’s shores. You have seen this in Jerusalem, Mary. It was jealousy that drove them to do what they did. For in truth, it was they who wished to rule by divine decree, and they were willing to do anything to take it from your family unto themselves. Even committing murder! The vile curses, which like misfortune came from their lips, are the bindings of misery which wait in the shadows to devour them. Can you pardon such souls as this—after seeing the filth that drives their malice?” he asked me with a raised brow.
“If I say yes, that I can forgive—then I lie. For truthfully, without their asking for forgiveness, or hearing their pleadings of repentance and regret, it would be a false pardon. Nor do I believe that we are so easily freed from the burden of our offenses. So, should we wallow in self-pity and make no action, for fear of fanning others’ jealousy?”
“No Mary. Our duty is to do as the Almighty wills! Do good deeds in His name without attachment to the results thereof and offer helping hands unto the downtrodden, for they are filled with ripe humility. Teach the people to seek out forgiveness from those who they trespassed against, that they shall not suffer the consequences of the misery they caused. Instruct them to seek no fame, yet if fame knocks at their door—teach them to use it for the Lord’s sake. Advise them to seek not beauty nor fine clothing, or they may in time become filled with pride.
“The desire to have what another has, is a greed that chokes the goodness of the soul. Therefore, be pleased for those who have more than you, and pray for the souls of those who try and kick you down. The antidote to the venom of such spitefulness, is having gratitude for what you have,” he said laying a rock in my hand.
“Keep this rock as a reminder . . . and as a reward for your perseverance, Mary.”
A circle of thick mist surrounded us, and once more we stood beneath the two tall oaks. The roots of the trees, like snakes, hung in the air above us, w
rithing, while the trunks stood high above, like sentinels.
CHAPTER 34
HELL—VEIL FOUR
Without grace, the heart becomes impenetrable—hard as stone. For we have neglected to melt it in the fires of prayer. Grace favors us with strength by which to conquer over temptation, tolerate trials, and make reparations. For just as the hand needs the eye to guide it, so too does the soul find itself blooming—rich in graces, by the perfection of prayer. The treasure of mercy is at our disposal—its key is devotion.
“What is the worst disease in the living world, Mary?” the High-Priest asked.
“Surely leprosy is the worst disease of our time,” I answered plainly.
“Mary, you who are wisest among women are mistaken. Wrath is most certainly the foulest of all ailments, for it is like a wildfire that spreads burning offenses unto others. It leads people, out of hatred and retribution, to blaze inside like a furnace until it destroys all that is good in them.
“Fury stews like a cesspool and no good ever comes of it. The fourth veil, reveals to us those souls who have been bound by such wrath. Tired of the wheels of suffering that seem never to end, the wicked live in a palace of ruins. Cursed and hopeless, the messengers of the Lord reach for them, to help thwart the frustration they feel inside. Without the generosity of these Saints, they would cry sullen tears from their torturous graves—all good fortune gone from them forever. Here, those who desired to live separate from all that is divine and holy, are given fulfillment of their desire.
“Such souls have yet to understand that patience, tolerance and peacefulness are the cures that conquer over anger, which like a malignant hostility has infected their troubled minds. Therefore Jesu taught his followers to turn the other cheek. Still, people waste precious time spent in the burning embers of argument in order to gain victory, not knowing that such self-righteousness leads only to their disgrace and calamity.”
A darkness descended on us, and with it came the stench of death. This time we were to encounter a sea of souls burning in the fires of wrath which in life they had dispensed upon others. Their terrified screams bellowed from within the boundless pits we had come upon. In the howling winds that raged like a war overhead, monstrous creatures circled, snarling threateningly. From their mouths, they frothed and spat as they swooped down, flying dangerously close to our heads as they passed us by. But we were not its prey, thankfully, ostensibly they desired to capture souls—which they thirsted after.
Sounds of misery filled the air, as the imprisoned could not restrain their limitless sorrow. Their loathsome existence was that of panic and dread. Heat, and the stench of decay, penetrated all my senses.
“We bear witness to very great sorrows, Mary. Yet for the benefit of all, we deemed it necessary to disclose the entirety of human affliction. Stay close, for I shall give you the strength to carry on. Do not pity them, for all those you see here were once perpetrators of great evil,” the High-Priest said, scratching his head thoughtfully.
The path was dry and rocky. Not a shrub or blade of grass grew. As far as the eye could see, groaning souls cried out, bound by the Hell returned unto them. And as we neared these most unfortunate creatures, they fled in terror, hiding, terrified that we had come to torture them. Overhead, a black mass warped and shifted like a swarm of migrating birds. Those in the voluminous pits were its prey, and as the mass swooped down on them, dispensing punishment, the miserable wretches whimpered like lambs being slaughtered.
The odious legions of leathery winged beasts, held within their claws, nets by which to catch any wayward souls who sought to escape the clutches of their sentence—futile attempts, for freedom was not easily attained from the underworld. On the left side of the path were rows upon rows of thorn trees possessing spiked tips upon which the seared remains of prisoners were skewered like beasts. Hung over cavernous firepits, suspended symmetrically in precise order, punishment was meted out with just cause.
“What you see here, is meant only for those who stole light from the innocent—which they sucked out, like squeezing juice out of an orange ‘til dry. Without concern for the intense suffering they generated, these selfish wretches, consumed what they willed, without fear of consequence. Their wrath knew no bounds—it compelled them to act. Henceforth they were devoured by its infection.
“We are either servants of the Lord, or of the evil which hunts humanity behind every impetuous, immoral craving. Those who choose the latter, out of ignorance, quickly find themselves without conscience—for evil-doing soon becomes part of the game they play. Increasing misery on the planet, they serve the spirit of evil by using the sword of domination, torturing both human and beast—for skin, fur, flesh and blood.”
The High-Priest pointed to another group of captives. “They were once leaders of countries and church—who ordered war which terrorized the earth. Hung like meat on a stick, head to genitals, their orders are here forever silenced. Corruption drove them to destroy nature by any means. Your duty Mary, is to teach the people to unite in holy understanding, respecting the many differences found in the natural world. For then, by virtue of empathy, the world will find peace” he said, staring vacantly into the trenches, where fire burned flesh and bone.
I had seen darkness, yet now I bore witness to more pain than I knew was possible. It broke me to see anyone hurting in this way. Their screams had a raw quality to it, like their suffering knew no limit. Even though I understood that they had caused this, and brought this pain on themselves, still, I could not fathom what brutal misery these souls suffered. My throat was raspy and my lungs ached. I yearned for normality.
“The contemptible wicked are here faced with the limitless flames of their wrath, where they shall burn for as long as they cling to the venom which drove them to do shameful and depraved things. They set themselves apart from humanity, so now they must face their own treachery. These fools may claim that Satan drove them to do what they did, but as we know, we are all responsible for our own actions. No blame can remove the stain of their evil.
“It takes a brave soul to travel beyond the gates of the living—into Hell, Mary. Yet without knowledge of these infernos, which have kept humanity bound since the dawn of creation, how could we ever hope to offer you full insight into the contracts that souls bind themselves with? We were consumed with great tribulation as to how to divulge such things, without putting you in harm’s way. I feared that you might never again know happiness in the wake of witnessing the burdens of these most unfortunate, misguided people.
“When souls become infatuated with themselves, the mask of pride roots itself in anger by way of false authority, which becomes an intoxication for them. Dragging their souls here and there in vulgar attempts to have their way, this behavior gnaws at any nobility they once had—leaving them flush with nothing but pretenses of humility. Presumably you saw these traits in the politicians and priests of your people’s lands,” he said pausing for affect.
Judgements and boastful pride rose in my mind like a rising tide, convincing me of how it is: ‘The Messiah chose me as his bride. I have been set above all others, to be recognized by the crowds—who venerate and adore me.’ Like a sickness, these thoughts infected me. Understanding its intent, I laughed at myself, recognizing the truth of the mind’s subtle meandering.
So easily one might be swayed by such powers of thought—if one were not diligent.
The murderous transgressors became louder, fiercer, and more insistent . . . they became me. Their desperate cries teared at my soul. Their agony was my agony. Their suffering was my suffering. They called out to me, “Save me!” “Help me!”
Guilty—ashamed that I could not appease their misery in some way, I cried out “I pledge to one day help you. It is my fervent promise!”
Clutching my wishing
stone tight in my fist, I was stirred by their calamity, for their faces were pained. But promises of a distant freedom would not alleviate their load.
“Surely the Lord, being merciful, can help them?” I shouted over the shrill chorus of screaming voices.
“Have faith in the Lord and His ways, Mary. He is our Creator, just as we are each the creators of our own happiness and distress. Never doubt His love for us. Those who fall to the plague of prideful wrath, shall one day again be given a chance to continue on the path from the very spot where they fell. Choices are always ours to make.
“It is pivotal for us to grasp and bind ourselves to humility which is our weapon against anger. So also is kindness the cure for envy, while abstinence saves us from gluttony, and chastity from lust. Patience soothes frustration, generosity heals greed, and diligence frees us from sloth. All must eventually learn how to free themselves, but first they should desire freedom and deliverance above all things.
“Think of the priestly classes of men who present a perfect picture of modesty and holiness unto all, while inside they seethe with pride, lust, envy, greed, and gluttony. The thoughts and actions they conceal, are like ants incessantly biting at their goodness. Those who listen to and obey the mind and its foolish compliments—forsake the gifts of virtue.
“Each soul is born pure, yet from the moment they acquire what they believe to be independence, they are pursued by relentless devils, who with a shrewd sense of skillfulness, seek to uproot the sacred seed of holy inspiration. If they are unable to displace the Lord entirely from the heart, then at that time, they venture to interrupt the soul’s search for God, by distracting them. Capturing them by dint of depravity and judgements.”
Wide swathes of land to the right side of the path, brimmed with souls burning in the twisting flames of rushing fires. Their scared cries came from all directions, while the reek of decayed flesh clung to my nostrils like glue. “Mercy!” they howled, recognizing that we were not perpetrators of their pain, and I wept for their helplessness.