Authors: Adriana Koulias
THE BAPTISM
T
he
day was nearing its apex. Talons of light fractured the water and made short shadows of men. From the crowds, Jesus saw the priests of the Sanhedrin leave the river, and he waited for a time, until the voices of the people had died down and many had left to seek their midday meal.
He
then laid aside his garments and took himself to the river in his loincloth. The man in the river was aglow with light. Colour spilt over him like fluid fire. Jesus saw him put a hand over his brow to see him. Jesus did not pause but entered the silvered water. First his feet, then his ankles, his knees, until the cold came over his thighs, until he stood before the man whose height was greater than his and whose face was, of a sudden, full with awe.
The man let go his staff into the water
. His knees seemed to buckle and he fell into it.
He cried, ‘I
should be baptised by you! I cannot endure to do it!’
Jesus said to him,
‘In the same way that once my presence awoke your limbs in your mother’s womb, I shall awaken your thoughts to your duty!’
The man called John looked up and Jesus’ shadow fell over him. Jesus could now see,
unclouded and undisturbed by the light, a reflected mirror image of himself in the other man’s face. An image of something he had misplaced. He was given the knowledge at Qumran that this man was the same as Elijah, and now he recognised in him the oldest soul of humanity, Adam, and he realised that some part of him belonged to this man and was conjoined by a remembrance of times lost in a dream.
When the baptiser stood
, it was a signal to Jesus.
He crossed his arms over his chest
and felt a support behind the small of his back. It seemed to him then, that although Yeshua was leaving him, little by little, the soul of the baptiser was uniting with him in order to sure up the pathway to the God whom he sensed descending. And he was comforted by it.
John guided him
into the water and he was submerged into light and colour and sound. His soul was wedded to the element of the river. All the pictures of his life rushed past his eyes until he heard a flute song, and he could smell sheep, earth and grass. All of it was married to the warmth of friendship, the lulling breezes, the glow of the sun, the fingers of the wind, the soothing feel of his mother’s hand and the cry of a child in the wilderness.
Now, there was nothi
ng more.
He did not breathe. He was lost. He was alone. A flame hovered over
him. A sparkling, ever-tranquil, lilting radiance issued from the encircling round and above him the spirit of Yeshua gathered up to form the shape of a bird. It lingered a moment over him as if in a final farewell and was given up, with light in its wings and life in its breast.
Surrendered!
The majestic and wise spirit of Yeshua, which had fashioned his soul and body over eighteen years, was severed from him. Within him was left a hollow place, unopened yet to the spirit, like a spring bud that trembles in a cold wind.
How could he open it
, when he had no forces left to him? A great lassitude overwhelmed him and threatened to extinguish him. He was alone. And yet…and yet…Jesus sensed the soul of his dead mother draw near. His mother, whose purity was the likeness of his own, came to his aid. She plucked tenderly at his heart, to unfold him in readiness for the descent of grace, for the pulse of heaven’s glory. When the clouds parted and rent was the veil that separates above and below, the God fell downwards, from the heart of the Father, like a brand of light moving through the spirit’s fluid stream. Jesus inhaled the breath of the God into his lungs, and the spirit orphaned from heaven, innocent of evil, immortal, blameless, without guilt and eternal, began its descent into the soul of Jesus.
Now, w
hen Jesus opened his eyes, he saw the world differently for the second time in his life, and in his ears the thunder call came:
‘Thou art my beloved Son, in whom I behold my very own Self, in whom my own Self confronts me! Now you are begotten in Jesus!’
TEMPTATION
T
he
man Jesus
walked through the crowds on the shore swaying and stumbling, while the God in him saw the world as foreign and unknown, a distortion of faces and loud noises, of heat and sun and overwhelming smells. In the body, the muscles strained, air rushed in and out of the lungs and the heart pounded in the chest, while in the mind thoughts flitted past like shadows. How painful it was to cram his mighty power into that mind and that body! A power that could now harness nature and cause miracles so that his mere presence would seem to men like a world of marvels, a tempest of splendours. It was not his purpose to enrapture and bewilder, to dazzle and astonish, so he directed Jesus into the wilderness in search of a quiet place wherein he could guard the birthing of his new forces.
That is how he came to be in the old cave
situated high above the vast mountainous wasteland of Judea. From its lip he could observe the sun falling into the night, and partake for the first time in the splendour of colours that are separate from the self. Above Christ looked to the home of his heart, now distant and detached from him. From beyond those stars he had come, descending downwards aeon after aeon. Men had seen him in their mysteries and had worshipped him in their rituals and given him many different names and now he would walk among them – a God extracted, separated out from heaven and born into the body of a man.
This conception on earth was
to his Fathers in the heavens, like a death.
He heard a
lamentation. He listened. It came not from heaven but from the sleeping souls of the world. They were reaching out to him in their supplication as they had always done. This was why he had come, to make this earth his heaven and rescue it from the maws of hell.
Jackals called as the moon made a rise
. He had never seen such a moon nor heard such a sound and an intuition drew his attention to the shadows of the night. From them came the vision of a red-winged angel, falling from the sky and landing at the lip of his cave.
It
thrust one sad, melancholic eye at him, and said, ‘If it isn’t the favourite come down from his high perch to visit his poor relations!’
‘What are you?’ Christ asked it.
‘Where are your manners, brother? Did no one tell you that this is my kingdom? Come, before you step across my threshold you must first recognise the master of the house! Bend low before me and our little quarrel shall be forgiven. Perhaps I’ll even share some of the riches and power I have gained from this wretched world with you? You have to concede this is more than you did for me!’
A vision came then of
Jesus standing before a man who was running from the Devil on his shoulders. This was that Devil, he realised. This was Lucifer, his brother who was cast down from heaven.
‘
Lucifer,’ he said to it now. ‘Look into my face! I see you haven’t changed...You think you can lure me with power because this is your weakness, but listen carefully to me…I have not come into this world to rule it, nor have I come to serve you, I have come to serve the rightful gods!’
Lucifer
’s gloomy eye turned to white and a shiver passed over his wings. ‘The rightful gods…yes…what do they know of the world? Do they know anything about thirst? Well? Do they know that human thirst is unquenchable? You are a God, you need not thirst for puny human knowledge, when you can be an angel, like me, an angel is wisdom itself! Throw yourself from the lip of this cave and you will see, as the Psalms say, God will give his angels charge of you, and you will be among them, and they will bear you up with their own hands so that your foot will not even strike one stone!’
But
there was something more in the cave with them. From out of the shadowed corners came a blur of blue wings, desiccated and clawing and the world stirred to make way for them.
A
nother voice came into his ear:
‘
Son of God! Do as your brother says and let us see? Jump! What can happen to you? Fear is something only mortals feel, angels are above such feelings!’
W
hat was this thing called fear? He felt it now, when he thought of jumping from the cave to that great distance below. He was not an angel. If he jumped Jesus would die and his task would die with him.
‘
Listen to me, Lucifer, your arrogance is made weak by your companion who has just pointed out that fear is perfectly right for a mortal man! I
am
a mortal man and fear has given me wisdom! Again, it is written – do not tempt the Lord thy God, to whom
you
should surrender yourself!’
Lucifer cried an
anguished cry, and flew off towards the moon, defeated. But that crawling malignant thing had entered into Jesus. He could feel its blue wings furl and unfurl inside his soul and he plunged in after it.
‘
Son of God!’ the creature breathed. ‘Let me tell you something of hunger. Hunger is a terrible torment for a man; capable of driving even the most pious to sinful acts. But you need not suffer hunger, for you can so easily turn stones to bread by merely by saying a word! Say it to impress us!’
Christ tasted ashes and felt the thickness of the bones under his skin, and the mind
, imprisoned by a skull, found a memory of the leper…this spirit had tempted that poor man and had eaten him alive. This was an archangel, and he was far mightier and more dangerous than Lucifer, his brother.
He knew his name.
He cried out to the ancient creature, ‘Satan, you father of lies! Leave me alone. It is written: man should not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from out of the mouth of God!’
‘That is what
they say,’ whispered the creature, ‘those gods who know nothing of men. But men have turned a deaf ear to them, naturally, since they know that the belly must be fed, or the body dies! You see how I love men more than you? When you made life and death a law and left them to their own devices I showed them how to turn stones to coins, and coins to bread so that they could live. And so, as there are stupid men and cunning ones, there are also the rich and the poor. One man can feed his hunger while the other cannot and each trespasses against the other, grasping for the daily bread. If you have come to preach love and eternal life to these animals called men, you might as well go back to that starry home from which you came, Son of God! Brotherly love is impossible while there is death! Over this mystery the will of the heavens cannot rule!’
Christ
understood. These backward angels, Lucifer and Satan had caused a man to swing like a bell from one extreme to the other. But he had come to show how it was possible to overcome pride and arrogance through wisdom, and death through love. And here in Jesus’ soul he discerned a dual nature, a weaving of wisdom and love so endearing that it worked like a great power of attraction for him and he united his forces with it and became one with Jesus.
He felt a sting
, a sudden gnawing in his bowels!
The blue archangel
Satan gave a mocking laugh.
‘Now you’ve done it!
Feel the tearing of hunger in Jesus? That is why men must live by the rule of the daily bread, and walk side by side with me…the archangel of death!’ The whisper came closer, ‘Listen to me, I am like you, I am stubborn and full of longing, I am eternal, and so I can wait. When the time comes, I will return for what is mine!
And he was gone.
Christ Jesus let out a gasp and fell to the earthen floor of the cave. Above him he sensed warmth; the love-radiant thoughts of the stars were making a way into his heart to comfort him.
And
so it was, the orphan from heaven closed his eyes then, and slept his first earthly sleep.
‡
‘So that’s how it was!’ I sat back so astounded that I could hardly take a breath, my fingers black with ink and my back aching. ‘Yeshua and Jesus had been two persons in one, but when Yeshua lifted up to make way for Christ, the Son of God then entered into the Son of Man and the two natures, human and divine were united!’
Illuminated and reconciled were all the arguments
of same and similar, image and likeness, persons and natures! So many disagreements, misunderstandings and half-truths! So much blood had been shed when it had all been so simple!
But m
y elation was followed by a sudden fear, a fear that there might not be any mysteries left to tell. For what mystery could be greater than a God permeating a man? When I told Lea, she smiled quietly.
‘
Oh…
pairé!
Now it really begins; now we see how a man becomes a God!
I hit the side of my head, for I
realised that she was right!
THE FIRST CALL
A
s I continue this path
to that field below Montségur, with the sound of priestly chants in my ears and the bee guiding my descent, I sing to remember how life in the fortress had, by that time, grown more and more unbearable.
S
torms and sleet and bitter cold came to keep the women and children indoors. In the keep it was crowded, and the stench of animals and bodies was high. To this was added the boredom of days spent waiting, and the hunger, which drove even the most affable to arguments, and sometimes to blows. So terrible were the aimless days that whenever there was fighting with the French it seemed almost a respite.
The
seigneurs
of the fortress had hoped to wear out the patience of the army, expecting that when bad weather came, the French would pack up and go home to sit before their fires. But as winter approached the army grew in number and in boldness, while we began to dwindle and to grow weak.
One night
, the noise of shouts and screams reached the room at the end of the spiral stairs and when I came to the court below, I found the fortress in chaos.
Basque mercenaries had taken a narrow ledge
on the eastern face of the pog, some way below the fortress. We all knew what this meant: it gave our enemies a foothold from which to assault us. I told the people that we were not yet desperate, for that ledge was perilous and difficult to reach from below, and that even if a siege engine could be built in such a place the French would have to guard it day and night and they would suffer bitterly from the cold winds and the snow. On the other hand, I told them, we still controlled the barbican and our secret path had not yet been discovered. This was a blessing, for it meant we could continue to communicate with the world below and have soldiery and fresh supplies brought to us. Secretly, however, I knew it was only a matter of time before the French found our secret path, a path that would lead them to the Barbican and to the sealing of our fate.
When I saw
Lea again my heart was filled with a mixture of joy for being with her and apprehension for what would come. She said nothing about our troubles and I tried to put the gloom and foreboding from my mind. I asked her what she would tell next.
‘
Well,
pairé
,’ Lea said, ‘after the baptism those who saw it with their own eyes could not agree, for each had his own understanding. They were like men standing around a tree; each man only sees one side and believes he can know the entire tree from it.’
I
pondered this. ‘But Lea, if those who saw it with their own eyes couldn’t agree, what hope is there that we, centuries later and with only meagre documents and word of mouth to guide us, will find agreement?’
‘But
pairé
, it was important that there be very little evidence of Jesus Christ.’
‘Why
do you say that?’
‘It was important that his life not be a historical fact, but a mystical one, for
how else could faith be born?’
‘
But look at the suffering it has caused, Lea!’ I said, aghast.
‘
The angels are not concerned for the suffering of men,
pairé
, they are only concerned with learning.’
‘
If that is so why are we told that our angels weep for us?’
‘They weep
when men do not learn from their suffering! You see,
pairé
, only men can transform the wisdom they gain from suffering into love; and only love can save all of creation.’
All of creation
– now there was a hefty weight!
‘But
is love not happiness, Lea?’
‘Love does not always make us happy, for happiness should not be preferred over goodness.’
‘Then what good is love, if it makes one unhappy? Oh I am confounded!’
‘
Love helps us to endure our suffering, it makes us steadfast in our sorrow.’
I was
unable to suppress a faint moan, which escaped my lips in reply, for now I thought of the love that kept those in the fortress from despair, the love that enabled so many to endure hardship and suffering, and I knew deep down that she was right.
‘You see
, you can see it!’ she said, and began, without waiting for another comment from me, to conjure before my eyes a picture of John the Baptist sitting upon his rock, watching over his flock like a faithful dog awaiting its master.
‘A
kind wind from the north had come to tame the heat, and his followers were taking advantage of it, since they could do no work,’ she said.
And as s
he spoke, I could see it myself, with my inner eye.
‡
Into John’s communion with God there entered the words of the red-bearded, hawk-eyed Judas. John opened an eye. The man was standing among the fishermen and he was saying,
‘
Well, for my part, I’ll only believe he’s the Messiah if I hear that he’ll make Israel great again. I want to hear him say that he’ll avenge our enemies, that he’ll kick out the Romans and the priests, and release us from the bondage and the curse that we have suffered! I am after the joy and the glory that was promised by the prophets! And,
I shall not let that fish off the hook
!’
John had discerned darkness in that man’s heart at his baptism and
would have turned him away if his angel had not told him Judas’ destiny was sealed in the circle of those who would recognise the coming one.
T
he fisherman Andrew spoke next.
‘
Stop zealot! Stop for heaven’s sake!’ he said. ‘Your words are daggers in my ears! You speak of hooks…but you should spend some time on the sea! That would settle you down. Out there you have no charge over anything…you are always at the mercy of God and what he will do for you! Not the other way around!’
‘I only require what has been promised
,’ Judas gave back. ‘Why else do our people eat and breathe and breed if not to make a body for the Messiah who will come to save us? Why have we come to this river to be soaked in its icy waters if not to prepare for when he comes?’
‘
Wait a moment, Judas!’ Simon, the brother of Andrew said, with an officious air. ‘He
has
come! Did you not see the lighted wings that flew over his head yesterday? I saw the whole world stop from adoration of it. Even those devils that live in the plants and in the river, in the trees and stones, were gathered together to see it before scurrying from the place in fright! He is come, Judas! Now we can all rest easy, for all men will be brothers.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Judas said
, with a snake for a mouth inside that red beard, ‘and the cow will sleep with the lion, and the chickens shall play with the fox! Fairy tales! Only through blood and war shall anything be accomplished, my brothers. Believe me! Only through blood and war! Love is not the way of our God! He is a hard God. We know our God don’t we? He bares our backs and roasts our carcasses, and milks our veins! He is that same God that swallowed up Sodom and Gomorrah into His belly! The same God Who sent plagues and flood and famine to those who did not mind Him! If this God is born into a man, as the baptiser would have us believe, then He will also be a hard-hearted God – a God of war! What else could he be? I will wait…I will watch and see.’
Simon regarded him with a frown
. ‘It looks like you have not seen anything at all, Judas! These two eyes saw it. I saw no hardness, only a gentle glow and a tender light. Whether an angel or a spirit, who can say? But it was divine, of that I’m sure! It came and I saw it. Andrew saw it too didn’t you, my brother? And what about you, James, did you not also see it, and you, little John? Did you not see how the lighted wings, silent and tender, fell over the chosen one whom our master baptised? Philip, what do you say?’ he trawled their hearts for an answer. ‘And you, Nathanael, surely you if no one else?’
‘I saw something,
’ Nathanael affirmed, ‘but I can’t tell what it was for certain! Besides, the man Jesus is from Nazareth…I told Philip before, nothing good comes out of Nazareth!’
James said, ‘I do
n’t know that it was wings I saw…but I’m certain there was something in the air above him.’ He shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t see it fall.’
‘
Wait!’ said little John, ‘I saw it come down like a dove, and land on his head…and do a little dance…well, maybe it wasn’t a dance…I don’t know what it did but it landed, that’s for sure!’
Andrew looked around
with a red face. ‘I’m ashamed lads, I didn’t see anything, I was afraid and looked away, and by the time I looked again, it was over!’
‘Well then,
it’s all the same, going up or coming down…all the same!’ Simon summed it up: ‘We saw the spirit of God, that’s what it was and no mistake! Just as the Baptiser said, the spirit of God descended into Jesus!’
Judas made little
imperceptible nods of the head, and looked at the fishermen with hooded eyes. ‘I think you see what you want to see!’
‘You may not believe us
, red beard,’ Andrew spat, ‘but you had best believe John the Baptist, a prophet of God!’
‘Prophets are unreliable people
,’ Judas dismissed. ‘They’ve been shouting about the end of days and calling for fasting and prayer since Moses! And where has it got us? We’re still in the wilderness, still under the yoke of our enemies! Still licking their hems! Prayer and fasting are not the answer. Sometimes a man must rely on his knife.’
The B
aptist came down from his rock.
He wondered w
hy men were plagued by obstinacy. Why they were so preoccupied with trivialities, so spiritually dull that only moments after they had seen the most significant event in the world, the vision of it was faded away into the hollowness of petty concerns. He scanned the grounds and his eyes found the rich youth from Bethany, sitting alone some distance away. Lazarus was his name. On the boy’s arrival some days before, John’s angel had torn open his eyes to show him the workings of the boy’s soul. For this reason, he had not baptised him, but had spent long moments alone with him, moments of quiet conversation, preparing him for what was to come.
He nodded to himself.
At least him, if no one else!
H
e looked up to the tormenting sun and full of frustration and disappointment he cried a long, wounded howl.
All men regarded him
with fear and awe.
‘How many have I baptised?’ He asked the
startled people. ‘How many are prepared for His coming? How many? Woe!’ he said, pointing his finger at his followers. ‘Woe unto you, spawn of Israel, if you fail to recognise your Messiah! Be not concerned what he will do for you, but rather be mindful of what you can do for him! Then offer up your souls…leave everything behind you…follow his shadow! Do you not see that my only purpose has been to prepare you for Him? Do not fail me!’
But as John had finished his words
, an intuition made a pass over his heart and he stood paused, listening. When he looked, he near lost his bearings. He fell to his knees and pointed to a man who was moving among those who were resting by the water.
‘
Look!’ John said sucking air into his lungs, ‘There is the Lamb of God! Do you see Him? I bear record to you…He is the Son of God! He is greater than I, and you must prefer Him above me!’
Those most prepared by John
, and even those who had not yet experienced the loosening of baptism turned to look. Those who could see it were stricken by palsy. Only two men were able to overcome their shock enough to make their way to Him – Andrew and John of Zebedee.
The
Baptiser watched them go. It was done, nothing to do now but wait.
He climbed his rock and sat down again and as the
slight chill announced to him the waning of his days he continued his meditation.