Authors: Adriana Koulias
DESTINY
B
y
the time
the procession arrived at the topmost aspect of the rocky plateau they called Golgotha, the preparations for the crucifixion were near finished. It was almost the
seventh hour
and the Romans were resting, half dressed, drinking wine and rolling dice. When they saw that Pilate was among the cohort of soldiers they stood and put away their drink and made a small effort to look like soldiers.
Claudia Procula
looked upwards to a sky drowned in cloud. The wind was stronger and the world was lulled by it into movement and when the cold air crossed her face after the heat of day it caused her to shiver. She pushed ahead of the crowds to come closer to the cross. She saw that Jesus had slipped and had fallen upon a rock. His moans made inroads into the hearts of the women nearby and moved her, to her very sinews with compassion.
She saw her husband inspecting his men. He did not look like the man she loved, like the father of her child. He
seemed a stranger to her and yet so confused was her heart that even as he prepared to leave the hillock, with that look of a man who has no floor on which to stand, a desire rose up in her to go to him. But she did not go to him and he did not see her, for she was once again dressed as a Jew and among the women relatives of Jesus.
The centurion called Abenader took a cup to where lay Christ Jesus and offered it to him
. She knew it was wine blended with wormwood – to stupefy those who would suffer the coming punishment. Christ Jesus refused it. No. He would not yield to ordinary weakness. He was destined to suffer without quarter and to surrender himself only when all was done.
The guards tore off the garments from that
aching, bleeding, weeping body full of lacerations, welts and swellings, dividing amongst themselves their spoils – all except his robe. They threw dice for it and laughed among themselves.
She looked
away, for naked was he made to lie on the ground so that the guards could nail his wrists to the crosspiece. Blow after blow was struck until the tapered nail, having pierced deep into the flesh, was finally sunk into the wood.
She near fainted
, for she felt his moans as hers, and his burning pain moved over her own arms and it seemed unbearable to her this burning, a mighty conflagration!
Blood gushed over the archers and they cursed it.
Gaius Cassius looked about but with his bad eyes failed to see her. He cursed the archers and told them to hurry.
The two criminals were also nailed to their cross pieces and the sounds of their constant
, woeful screaming reached the darkening vaults of heaven and made the world seem like a place full of torment. She looked to the woman called Magdalena. She had fallen on the ground and was taking up dirt into her hands to rub into her hair and her face. She wept and wept.
The archers had begun dragging Jesus to his feet and were now pulling him to the post wedged
into a hole in the ground. Two men on ladders lifted his body until the post found the slot in the cross piece, and then he was let go. The crosspiece came down with the full force of Jesus’ weight on his wounds, causing a great tearing and bleeding. All around her the sound of moans continued as the guards came off their ladders and took up their nails to hammer in the feet, but it took long, many blows of the hammer were struck before the bones were shattered.
After that
came the convulsing of the entire body, which moved of its own accord. She could not bear it.
Claudia fell. She heard crickets in her ears and all went to black before the world was returned
again and with it a thought. She realised that ill did not attract ill after all! Only a great light, a great goodness could raise the hackles of evil in such a way and cause it to cast a dark shadow such as this!
At that very moment, Gaius Cassius
, by some instinct, turned away from his work of overseeing the butchery and let his clouded eyes roam the crowds until they fell on her. His face bespoke bewilderment and surprise and his mouth came open slightly, as if he would speak. But he said nothing.
Of a sudden
open to her heart was the thread of destiny that bound them and would continue to bind them from life to life. But in the same breath it slipped away from her, leaving only a faint trace of a memory, like a taste in the mouth of something sweet.
He returned to his work then, and she realised
with relief that again he had not seen her.
SOPHIA
A
t
the foot of her son’s cross, amid the dark-full outburst of elements Mariam’s soul fell open. Now, all the waking dreams of worlds, all the wisdom that unites their intelligences and weaves them together, all that came from the sphere of the Virgin, the virginal selfhood of heaven, entered her fully. It was as though the Great Mother in heaven had leant her clothes to the smaller mother below to adorn her with her glory!
Her
son’s words spoke in her soul,
‘Mother! Behold
Lazarus-John, he is now your son!’
She looked to the young man
and knew that his soul was ready for wisdom.
Her son now told the young man,
‘Lazarus-John, behold my Mother. See in her the Sophia, the wisdom that lives in me, this you must henceforth recognise as yours! Take this wisdom into the housing of your soul and dedicate yourself to it!’
Two worlds came together then, above and below, for the
wisdom that was hers was bestowed upon Lazarus-John, as a gift.
The sky stooped over and made a tumble of the wind.
She heard her son say, once again, that he was thirsty.
The centurion
battered by the gusts soaked a sponge in wine vinegar and put it through the end of a stick to lift it to her son’s lips.
The wind railed against it
.
The soldiers took up their weapo
ns and began to flee the storm.
On
ly the two centurions remained.
From the cross
Jesus said to the Christ in him, ‘
Eli Eli lama sabachthani.
My God, my God, how you have elevated me!’ and Christ spoke then to the Holy Spirit above him, ‘Why have you forsaken me?’ And then He said, ‘Father…into your hands I commend my spirit…’
She felt
death come as he said, ‘It…is…accomplished!’
W
ith these words, she felt a great release and she would have fallen, if not for Lazarus-John.
T
hese words had fired in the east a spirit-light that could be seen far away in the west by the Druid priests in their stone circles. They saw it in the quality of the fine upper airs and in the colour of the auras around the shadow of the stones that a healing force was entering the world to save it from death.
But in the east
, from whence came the light, a great rumble was heard. For the powers of death, frustrated and furious began now to assail the world and the wind stirred dust made a cloud rise that blotted out the sun, and darkened the day, seeking to eclipse the day-radiant light of Christ as it entered the ethereal round.
Fear and fury was felt
by the evil ones, those darknesses that had held sway on earth until now. These beings, wedded to the shadows shrieked with pain and with anger when He came before them in all His power! For the spirit of Christ had overcome death, their master, and was now descending into the centre of the earth, that place which they call Hell, to imprison and to fetter all that was evil for a thousand years.
And it was from
Golgotha, that a crack was made in the earth, and it tore its way over the ground to that other Mount on which stood the Temple of the Jews – the Mount of Zion.
FOUR VEILS
C
aiaphas
was
in the Temple with Ananias preparing for the evening ritual when two Pharisees burst into the court with their eyes wide in their pale faces. He knew they were afraid, they were all afraid. The events of these last hours had all men jumping out of their skins.
But no
t Caiaphas.
He
sighed and scratched his back absently. Would this day never end?
‘What do you want?’
One man said, ‘We’ve come to ask why you have not dispatched the Levites to Golgotha? They have to break the bones of those men before the beginning of the Sabbath so that they can be taken down!’
Caiaphas
did not like being told. He said, ‘Impossible! It is too late, soon is sunset, besides, I have to go and kindle the incense.’ He began to ascend the steps.
But those dreadful
Pharisees would not be put off.
‘
Listen Caiaphas, there is time. If not, the families will have to wait until after the feast to bury them.’
‘
So what?’ he said looking at the fools. ‘Let them rot for a few days on their crosses…what harm can it do? It may be a good thing to let the birds have their fill of Jesus’ pitiful carcass. Let all men see it as they come and go! That way whoever passes will be reminded that Jesus of Nazareth was not a god, just a liar full of his own importance!’
H
e turned to go but was prevented by the other man.
‘No!
’ the stubborn Pharisee countered. ‘The Sanhedrin must comply with the law. This Sabbath is a High day, Caiaphas, and you know as well as we that when the Sabbath falls on the second Paschal day the law is even more strict! How can the people celebrate the Feast of the Unleavened Bread with the smell and sight of carrion meat outside the gates!’
Caiaphas sighed
a weary and bored sigh and waved a hand as if he were shooing a fly. ‘Very well, you may send three guards.’
‘
But the Romans won’t allow it unless you go, Caiaphas!’ said the other annoying Pharisee, ‘for without you the soldiers have no authority.’
Caiaphas turned an indolent eye upon
the man, a look that could wither a plant, but it did nothing to change the resolve on that stubborn face. ‘The lot, dear Solomon, has fallen to me, I must kindle the incense…do you see how impossible it is?’
‘
If you send the captain of the guards with the lance of Phineas,’ Ananias offered from behind them, ‘the Romans will know that a mandate has been given and they must demure before it.’
Caiaphas was full of pleasure
for this suggestion since the lance of Phineas had been that lance used to kill those idolaters and adulterers who had also not complied with the laws of Moses. There was a species of poetic eloquence in using it against Jesus. He wished that he had thought of it himself!
After he gave the orders that it be done
he ascended the three steps to commence the ritual burning of the incense. At this point a speck of a feeling announced itself, a feeling against all logic. He pushed it back into the dull corners of his ill used heart and tried to preoccupy himself with his task, but it would not go away, it would have his ear until finally, it spread apart the curtains of his mind and announced itself loudly:
Could he have been
the Messiah?
This petition rang out from his soul before he could snatch it
. It fell over the heavy four-coloured veil that hung taut before the Holy of Holies. It fell over the golden altar of incense that glowed red with coals.
Oh no!
He had unwittingly petitioned the ancient oracle!
Behind him
the Levites were kneeled and he was full of relief – it had seemed to him that he had said it out loud, but he had not.
He gathered his wits
to him, kindled the incense and took the golden censer from the fire, but at that moment a wind had entered the city, an ancient wind called Ruach. It moved over the colossal bridge and swept through the archways forcing its way through the gates of the Temple, curving its back around the sanctuary of shining marble and glittering gold, sweeping through the court of the women, the court of Israel and the court of the Priests and entering the chambers so strongly as to fan the sacred fires into flames.
Ruach…Elohim…Aur!
Breath…Elohim…Light!
It moved from behind the columns and the walls and reached out its hands to grasp at
Caiaphas’ vestments and to tear at his robes. He drew his hands to dampen its voice and dropped the sacred incense to the marble floor.
Dismay and confusion swirled around the sanctuary now, but C
aiaphas heard only these words:
HE IS!
At this point day turned to night and the earth began to move of its own accord sending the golden candlestick with its seven lit lamps crashing to the floor. Caiaphas lost his balance and followed it hitting his head on the altar. The priests dissolved into panic as the wind, full of sand and dust, made them choke and the shaking of the earth tore through the ground like the hand of a furious god.
Caiaphas
struggled to stand but his vestments were lifted up to his face like devil’s wings. And as the earth exchanged places with the air he was gripped by terror and tried to make a way out of the Temple but there was a great commotion and confusion among those who had come for the service. The crowds, coming together of a sudden, made a crush through the porches and many fell and were trampled underfoot. At this point a crack in the earth was heard and those veils guarding the holy place, those veils long and wide and thick and wrought in seventy-two squares joined together, gathered the wind into themselves like sails and were made pregnant. In their convulsions and birth throws there began a rip and a loud rent sounded as the four veils were torn from top to bottom laying bare the most Holy Place to the eyes of all.
The storm and the earthquake swallowed up the cries of terror and shock
. God Himself, in His wrath, had rent the four veils with His own hands and was gone from that place where he had dwelt in mysterious gloom. What portent was this? The priests asked themselves.
Only Caiaphas knew the
answer, for he had heard the voice of the oracle. God had forsaken their Temple because they had killed His only Begotten Son.