by Krishna Rose
Nervously I approached the throne, all eyes on me. Kneeling before him, I bowed my head respectfully, “My liege.”
“Come, let me see you,” he bellowed fondly, as if we were the best of friends. I stepped towards him, curtseying deep and low so that he could see me more clearly. “You are most welcome here,” he said generously, seeming pleased by my appearance. “I remember you well,” he said, smiling thoughtfully, “. . . I knew you once as Elizabeth—and now you are a Mary!” he heaved cheerily, amused by my bewilderment.
“Come. Sit here by my Queens,” he ordered, shuffling his wives aside, to make space for me to sit among them. “You are the wife of the great Jeshua, are you not?” he asked, popping a round sweet into his wide-open mouth.
“Yes my Lord, I am that most fortunate of ladies,” I answered joyfully, nestling into the soft pillow.
“He is a great man, is he not?” he asked, taking sips of golden liquid from a ruby chalice. On his fingers were large jewels. He was an imposing man, draped in tunics and robes of great fortune. A golden helmet decorated his hair, which was dark, thick, and curly. It framed his round cherubic face. I felt a familiarity in his presence, thus I did not fear his importance or celebrity.
I nodded. “Yes, my Lord. My husband is indeed great. Perhaps the greatest of men,” I replied, feeling the stirrings of deep devotion for Jesu rising in my heart. Then I paused, wondering if I’d spoken out of turn . . . declaring my husband to be greater than the King of Heaven—and everyone laughed, as if they had read my thoughts. I turned to look at the courtiers, who smiled in my direction, relieved, I grinned, realizing that no offense was taken.
“I heard that they had crucified him. Is he now well again?” the King asked, leaning towards me to look into my eyes with interest.
“Yes, my Lord. He is quite well. Thank you for asking. It is God’s mercy that saved him, though he suffers alone in silence with many pains,” I said, noticing that the hall had suddenly fallen silent, listening keenly to our conversation.
“It was unjust of the humans to punish him so. Vengeance will be at the heels of those who were involved. Of this you can be certain, my dear. It is wonderful news that he lives. He is glorified in all of Heaven as victorious!” he said, staring deep into my eyes again, chewing on the remnants of the crumbs in his mouth.
I was feeling a hunger to taste the King’s sweets, and instantly he motioned for a particularly delicate angel to bring to me what I desired.
“I am happy to hear of it my Lord, for indeed my husband is worthy of such praise and honor,” I said reaching for the sweet, dripping with enticement. An explosion of gratification flooded my mouth. I smiled at the King, knowing it pleased him to see me enraptured as I relished in heavenly indulgence for the first time.
“Good. I hope you enjoy your time with us Mary, wife of Jeshua,” the King said, dismissing me, returning to his political regents, who like doves, waited for the King’s ear.
The Queens moved beside me, playfully twisting my long unkempt hair in their languid fingers. At first I was a little perturbed by their physical display of intimate affection, but soon I realized the innocence of their ways, and I relaxed, taking pleasure in their sisterly love. The ladies combed my knotted locks so calmly and gently, that unable to resist, I lay back on the feathered pillows and almost slept while they fussed over me.
Sometime later Cherubim signaled our exit.
“Goodbye,” I said, dipping into a short curtsy. I was giddy. My body did not move as it normally did and the ladies giggled upon seeing my inebriation.
“It was a pleasure to meet you all . . . again,” I said following Cherubim’s lead, and the King chortled as I went on my way, swaying like a drunk.
“Cherubim, I feel quite extraordinary,” I said, as he grinned at me knowingly.
“The King remembered you from the future, when you shall be born as a Queen within your own bloodline—brought into this world by Mary-Salome’s womb,” he whispered, quite obviously amused by my delicious rhapsody.
“But how is that possible? How could I have been here already, if I am Queen at some point in the future? That doesn’t make any sense,” I mumbled euphorically.
“Heaven has its own sense of time, different than that of earthly humans,” he explained. “There is no past or future. There is only the present moment, for we do not measure time. Time is not restrictive here as it is in your world.”
“How is it that I came to Heaven, only to leave again? I believed this to be a place of eternal peace . . . so how is it that souls return to earth after attaining the penultimate destination?” I asked, perplexed by what I was hearing.
“The seven heavens are where the righteous settle upon leaving the physical world. Do not be mistaken—this is not eternity. The everlasting planet systems are in deep space, far above the crowning planets of the paradise you see here. Only upon reaching eternal rest, does one never again come to know birth or death. And though there is no time in Heaven, the souls who come here enjoy pleasures for a very long time. But yes Mary, even here, death eventually calls for souls to be returned, but only once their good fortune reaches its end—and death here is not as you know it.”
“Why can you travel between planets, while others do not? What is your appointment?” I asked curiously.
“I am eternal,” he replied easily. “I am neither of Heaven nor of earth. I am a divine being able to travel to and from all the realms at will. I have even seen the eternal Kingdoms, and witnessed the delights of the dynasties there, but my duties extend over many universes by the will of the Lord’s direct order. He speaks to me and tells me where to go, and this gives me spiritual happiness.”
As if sensing my measurement of happiness, he quickly corrected me, “The bliss one derives from service to the Lord, is not made of selfish love Mary, nor can it be measured by any means. I serve the Lord as He wishes—not because I seek my own pleasure, but because I seek to give Him pleasure.”
“How is it that the Lord speaks with you, yet I do not hear Him?” I asked uneasily.
“God has placed the treasure of His graces at your disposal, Mary. You have but to reach for them. By your sincere hankering, you have been blessed with many visions to increase your attachment and yearning for Him. A vision of the Lord will spur your efforts forward, like air fans fire, and one day you will attain His abode. I have seen it, so shall it be,” he said in a contented voice full of understanding.
Overwhelmed with divine emotion, he erupted into song. He sang charmingly, as if he had thousands of mouths, each with its own pleasing harmony. “Amein . . . ‘Allelujah . . . ‘Allelujah, Klim, Kama-Dev-aya Vidmahe—Bhag-Avan. Eloha Elohim Adonai—Yezu—Maria,” he sang.
Instantly, tears dropped like an unbroken stream of honey, for I was so moved by the love with which he sang. My hairs stood on end. I was utterly unable to think, move, or do anything at all, for the Lord’s vision was all I could think of—his mood had infected me with divine passion.
With great yearning I prayed, “O Lord, what misfortune has come upon me, that for so long I have existed without a vision of You? My eyes deceive me, for all things are so easily seen, while the One I wish most to gaze upon is still so far from me. Whatever sins I have committed which prevent and forbid Your holy vision from coming in my heart, I plead to Your divine mercy—deftly remove them by Your benevolent grace. Please be kind to me, your humble servant, for I know there is nothing in the three worlds that can satisfy my deepest craving—for I was born to love You. By Your compassion, I pray Thee to have pity on my soul and bring me to You—to keep me with You forever.”
“Mary, do not fret, for the Lord shows you mercy. Material desire is falling from your senses, like a snake shedding its skin. Very soon you will att
ain your eternal spiritual body. Once reaching that Kingdom, you will cast your eyes upon the form of the Lord such as you have never seen Him. Until then, glorify Him and worship Him in the unseen chambers of your heart . . . His abode shall be yours. It is your inheritance, so have faith in this and never lose hope,” he said affectionately.
“If a man thinks of a woman at time of death, nature gives that soul a female body. If a woman thinks of a man, nature gives that soul a male body. If anyone remembers Heaven—they attain Heaven. However, if at time of death, a soul cares for nothing but love of God, feeling a desire to be reunited with Him, then that most fortunate soul shall arrive in the celestial forests of eternal utopia.
“Only upon attaining the everlasting Kingdom, does the soul never again return to a temporal situation. And although death is certain within all the three worlds, the illusion that one’s body will last forever, bewilders everyone from the rich and powerful, to the poor and forlorn. Until then, every living creature begins with the discomfort of birth and ends in the misery of death.
“You will witness here, the truths that have been revealed in the scripture. These things are never seen by way of material eyes, but you are an exception, as was Jeshua who also came this way. You both, upon your descent to earth, agreed to play the role of ordinary human beings—though your greatness extends out as eternal guides to all who are lost. We saw how you forgave those who trespassed against you, therefore, never doubt the Lord’s love for you, for your modest sincerity has captured His attention. You belong to Him now. I have seen it.”
Thus, we became silent like two birds at the end of the day, with no sound but the droplets of tears which fell from our eyes.
After gliding along the gem laden path, we came upon a golden tree. It was tall as the sky. At its roots burned a fire with seven flames.
“This is the Tree of Wisdom, beneath which the Lord of this realm meditates when in residence. He does not speak to the inhabitants of these blessed lands, for he concentrates upon the sound within. He is immersed in the inner realms, where he is connected like a child, via his navel, to the Supreme Being. Meditating on the sacred sound within, he travels upon the umbilical cord which connects him to God in the form of a holy song.
“Upon hearing this holiest of holies, he creates this universe as we know it. As a consequence, many mistake him to be the original creator, though he is in fact a minister who serves God with great devotion, by manifesting His will.”
“Have you ever heard this song you speak of, Cherubim?” I asked.
“No, my Lady. Only the Lord of this realm is privy to its phenomenon, although it is said that every soul in existence has at some time sat on his throne—to be bewitched by the Lord’s splendidly seductive theme. This too is our spiritual inheritance.”
Upon the tree’s branches were large, colorful fruits which smelled delicious.
“These fruits contain soma juice. Anyone fortunate enough to taste it, relish divine grace,” he said nimbly picking one from heaven’s harvest for my pleasure, whereupon he laid in my palm a remarkable syrupy fruit. “Eat and relish the nectar of the gods!” he ordered, prodding me to take a bite. I had thought of saving it for my sister, but Cherubim quickly set me straight. “You cannot take fruits from this garden,” he said blithely, pushing my hand toward my mouth playfully. As I bit into it, floods of happiness came upon me in waves, each stronger than the next. I smiled in gladness, giggling like a child. Cherubim seemed thrilled by my mirth. Chewing slowly, relishing and rejoicing in every sensation, I thanked him.
“Let me now tell you something of the creation for your spiritual gain,” he said, as I devoured the last drops of nectar, enthusiastically licking my lips and fingers to relish the pleasure which the fruit had given me.
“Listen carefully now, for I shall explain the workings of the universe to you,” he said, clearly entertained by my lack of manners.
“The sun is situated vertically in the center of the universe. But there are incalculable universes beyond the sun you see in the sky, which is only the sun of your earth,” he said, pointing at the basking sun star. “Due to the presence of the sun, we can discern which realms are for enjoyment and which are for penalty—for the sun is the seventh Heaven and all of life depends on light and heat. Of course the underworlds have no hint of it, for the beings there chose to live in darkness and are therefore without light in the afterlife.
“You should know that the Supreme Being enters our worlds in the form of the sun, dividing Himself into twelve parts, separated into twelve months. Each month is in turn governed over by a different demi-god in Heaven, who in turn administers blessings and punishments accordingly. These twelve divisions are then further divided, to manifest as seasons, beginning with spring.”
“Are you saying that the Lord is the sun?” I asked.
“No. The Lord is not the sun, nor is the sun the Lord. He is beyond all such designations. Each of the corners of this realm are protected by fourfold requirements—piety, liberation, purity, and compassion. These are the necessary conditions for any soul to arrive here in Heaven. Upon their advent, they look upon their own reflections in the mirror and find themselves enamored by their own beauty—as well as astounded by the allure of the glittering earrings and crowns that decorate their delicate skin and rosy cheeks.”
“But Cherubim, I’m bewildered by these things you speak! For you glorify the inhabitants of Heaven for their vanity, while on earth these things are vilified. It seems that there are laws for earth, yet other laws for those in Heaven. Not only is this confusing, but it seems unjust. Can you help me understand?”
“Only those who are without sin enter these shores. And for that reason, any pleasure derived from their own beauty, is not out of vain glory, as it is on earth, but out of appropriate self-assessment.
“Such selfless, devoted souls attain enjoyment in Heaven as a reward for their morality and graciousness,” he explained. I could grasp his meaning and was satisfied by it.
“In these realms, we have none of the problems of old age. We drink and bathe in elixirs which free our limbs from anxiety and disease. We have no experience of withering beauty, for our bodily luster never fades. Nor do we fear death from anything but death’s established time, which sometimes comes in thousands of years.
“Do you see that temple over there? That is known as the Temple of Tears,” he said, pointing towards the garden of Winter. “At its entrance, is a carved fountain fashioned of moonstone, which blesses any who touch its holy water.
“Inside the Temple, the tears of relatives on earth who weep for their dead kinsfolk, are collected and stored. The tears of their sorrow are saved, and for each heart that breaks open, the Lord catches hold of them—for their tears were cried in great longing. This is how every human being’s wanting comes to be stored in Heaven. Such is the Lord’s love for us,” he broadcast faithfully.
“The fountains you see, flow incessantly, for they are the tears of those who wish to join their loved ones in Heaven. Even though the heavenly residents know of this place, they do not wish to come here to be reminded of the agony of loss,” he explained in a quiet voice, rubbing a hand against his heart.
“That is so sad,” I said, affected by the finality of so many lost affiliations. “So are their tears in vain, if the departed look not upon them?” I asked.
“No tear is ever wept in vain, Mary, for the Lord catches them, and fastens Himself to them in their darkest moments—to offer them hope. In Heaven, their enjoyment and pleasures far extend beyond any found on earth, therefore they have no need to look back.
“Though these intoxicating realms upon first glance, seem filled with good fortune, to those with knowledge, it is considered to be a great misfortune. For their deeds have bought them all this hap
piness, while still they have neither conquered over death, nor gained immortality. Rather, they have remained within the world of illusions, and upon their return to earth, they understand that the cycles again commence—bringing about more potential mistakes and miscalculations which lead them between the realms of Heaven and Hell continuously.
“Those intelligent, most fortunate of souls who seek for themselves the holy Kingdom, cut to pieces the hard knot in the heart which has been tied tight since the beginning of time. One who does so, is liberated out of gross and subtle matter. They are often misunderstood in the world of the living, for they have separated themselves from the ‘norm’ of society. Yet it is they who achieve the greatest of all rewards, Mary,” he said, gazing at the Temple of Tears thoughtfully.
“What kind of pilgrim attains Heaven?” I asked.
“Those souls who do good deeds unto others, who are generous, and who give in charity, as well as those who are kindhearted to family and society, enter Heaven. Those who recite prayers, yet still maintain attachment to their own pleasure, attain the pleasure planets. Even those who do not believe, but give in charitable works to the downtrodden and unfortunate, still attain Heaven.”
“But why do those who pray and recite hymns not attain eternity, Cherubim? Why do they arrive in Heaven, which you say distracts them for thousands of years from their intended goal? Why does the Lord not bring them to Him?” I asked, feeling protectively concerned for all devout souls.
“The Supreme Being is all-kind, yet He has given souls free will by which to choose the extent of their ignorance of Him. By punishments, time gives all souls a chance to awaken, but still they do not come to their senses, continuing to live in material conditions. Some commit sinful activities again and again—and they are the least intelligent of all, for they choose ruin and sorrow for themselves.