AKASHA - excerpt from earlier version of FIFTH GOSPEL - a novel - (ETERNAL GOSPEL)

IN THE BEGINING, in the fine airs of heaven, was written the Eternal Gospel, and the Gospel was with God and the Gospel was God. All things were written therein and without it there was not a thing written that was written. It speaks of the life, the life that is the light of men. This light that shines into darkness and is not understood by men is Christ, the true light, which enlightens every man. Christ came into the world and Christ is the Gospel and the Gospel was made by Him. But the world has understood it not.

I am the Akasha, the ancient breath of the spirit. Upon my airs is written the Gospel. I am the guardian of beginnings and endings; the possessor of the eternal knowledges and intelligences; keeper of hidden things. In future times, when wisdom has ripened in the soul, what I embody shall be seen and heard and known by every human heart. Now I give it only to those who are mine, and I will make them who see and and hear it to swear an oath, by heaven and earth and fire and water and the seven rulers of the substances and the creating spirit in them, that they will guard these things, for wrath will come to each one who violates it.

  It begins before the remote first making when the purest essence was lifted out from Adam and the purest essence was lifted out from Eve and taken to the sun to be tended and nurtured and loved. Inwardly luminous, morally chaste, unmixed with knowledge and worldliness and untouched by sin, this dual life creation, waited. Now did the sun gods know the earthly Eve and she begat Cain. The moon god, the Lord Jehova breathed life into the earthly Adam and separated him from Eve and man and woman created he them.

Thus was Paradise.

But Eve desired more than this eternal bliss. She was inquisitive, she sought a wisdom that was promised only by Lucifer and fell into his waiting arms. Adam who loved her followed and Lucifer opened both their earthly eyes to the world made by wisdom’s working…and at the same time passed a veil over their spirit eyes. 

Thus was the down-fall of man and woman.

On earth now Adam knew Eve and Eve through wisdom begat Abel and from that time onwards, Cain and Abel, sun and moon, fire and water, knowledge and wisdom, king and priest walked the earth, side by side.

Generations passed and the light of the spirit, which yet shone beyond the veil of darkness, grew dim. Forgotten were the fathers in the heavens, deserted were, therefore, the great sanctuaries of the mysteries in India and Persia in Memphis, Delphi and Eleusis, their altars lay broken and forsaken for the priests of the ancient oracles were no longer able to evoke the forms of the true gods.

Darkness of night held sway.

Selfishness ran free.

But the spirit light of the world was descending.

The mystics dreamt of a saviour.

In Egypt and Israel prophets foretold His coming.

In Chaldea astrologers began to calculate His arrival.

In Greece Sibyls, drunk on sulphurous fumes, swayed and danced to the portents of the last age.

Those who still remembered the echoes and the shadows of former days drew together in austere circles and waited with hope for the plague of deafness and lifelessness ravaging the earth to end.

What had long ago been taken from Eve-Adam and kept from the fall was male and female and the male formed a body garment for the coming God while the female part, descended to earth to prepare a womb for his birth.  

The world held a breath.

The task fell on the people of Abraham, those chosen by God to prepare this perfected body, the vessel for the Messiah.

When fourteen generations had passed, a king called David had two sons: to his first-born son Solomon, he gave the Kingdom; to his second son Nathan, he gave the Priesthood. And so those who yet possessed spirit sight presaged the birth of two children. The first child would be a wise, old soul, destined to enter into the womb of the oldest woman, Eve, from the lineage of Solomon. This child would be born first and would be known as the King of Kings. The second child would be a young soul untouched by sin, preserved from the fall and destined to enter into the womb of the youngest woman, a heavenly Eve, from the lineage of Nathan. This child would be called the Priest of Priests.

Because both children were destined to be the salvation of their people, they would be called Jesus; their fathers who would be lifted up by God would be named Joseph and their mothers, who were set to suffer a harsh fate, would be known as Mariam or Mary, according to the law - she who will suffer bitterness.  

Through the centuries successions of old Magi noted the skies with dreamy eyes, looking for the sign that would herald the birth of the Kingly child - a great conjunction of planets in the constellation of Pisces – an effulgent star.

In the depths of their souls generations of young Shepherds dreamt of the birth of a Priest, whose coming would be announced by the great choirs of heaven intoning melodies that would set a seal upon their souls in the image of a lamb.

At the turning point in time the Akasha, the imperishable substance upon which all things are written, spoke out from the heavens and into the heads and hearts of men. It rang out this word:

Awaken!

RESURRECTION, ASCENCION, & PENTECOST - Author's Cut from FIFTH GOSPEL a Novel.

‘I am the light that is over them all, I am the All. The All has come forth from me, and the All has attained unto me. Cleave the wood: I am there. Raise up the stone, and you will find me there.’

Gospel of Thomas saying 77

THAT EVENING, when his followers were gathered in the Cenacle, Christ Jesus came to them. He bestowed peace upon them and the comfort of the Holy Spirit and showed them the nascent life forces and the creative power of his resurrected body of light.

Thomas did not believe that this body which stood before him belonged to his resurrected master and Christ Jesus bade him to touch it that he might believe. Though Thomas’ senses did not recognise Him, but his own soul could now do what Magdalena was not able to do in the garden, it could reach out and be one with his master’s soul, for the mystery of his resurrected body was consummated, that is Christ had raised up the perfected body and united with Jesus once more.

Thus did Thomas know him and yet Magdalena had known him even without touching him.

Now those disciples who had fled the garden on the night of his arrest could see all that transpired in their absence for within their Lord’s youthful body of light was written, like a great tableau, the memory of it.

Forty days did He remain with them and in that time He taught them sacred things and deeply moved were those who were able to partake of his words with full awareness, for they were like a food and drink, like an enrichment that formed the higher aspect of his last Passover meal. Lazarus-John, his beloved disciple, Mary Magdalena, his spirit pupil and his Mother and the  women were able to partake of it, however the other male disciples only heard his words with some lucidity here and there, so that all of it was experienced as in a dream.

Many times these teachings appeared to the male disciples as visions experienced in far off places - a garden of a new earth, which they accordingly likened to those places they had frequented with him: Mount of Olives, Mount Tabor, or Galilee. More than once did they see themselves on a boat, floating on the glittering Sea of Galilee with the sun upon its waters shimmering in their eyes, and in this state they saw themselves as naked as babes, for they were born again through their experiences and were purified and had cast off the garments of matter. Christ directed them to catch fish and years later they did catch many fish – those who in future times would be taught the teachings of Christ.

And the disciples said to themselves:

‘We are blessed above all men on earth because the Saviour has revealed this to us, for we have received the pleroma - the fullness of his teachings and the entire consummation of them!’

Christ Jesus said unto Simon-Peter, son of Jonah at these times, ‘Do you love me?’

And Simon-Peter answered him, ‘Yes, Lord, you know all things and you know that I love thee!’

‘Then feed my lambs, feed my sheep, take these words that I have spoken to those who are young and are old, feed them the outer knowledge, the outer teachings I have given you. For while you are yet young you may walk wherever is your want but when you are old you will stretch forth your hands and another shall take you where you do not wish to go, for you shall drink of my cup. You shall follow me and you shall glorify God through your own death…’

Simon-Peter turned around then, and his vision was raised so that for the first time he saw what grandness of spirit indwelt Lazarus-John and he asked his Lord, ‘What shall your beloved disciple, Lazarus-John, do, if I am to feed the old and the young?’

‘It is my will that he tarry, or come into the world, life after life in order to take into it what is appropriate only for a few, the inner teachings. This is not your concern for the inner teachings shall not unite with the outer ones until I come again. All of you shall walk after me!’

But as time passed the vision of Christ walking and talking among them began to fade and in their hearts it was as if the sun were descending in the west. They had been dazzled and dizzied to have his light and warmth these many days, but now a coolness was descending over them as their master’s spirit began to sink into the darkness of their souls and they fell upon their faces and were afraid when they could no longer see him. Loss and confusion and a mood of dullness came over them. Even the sacred meals had mislaid their meaning, for their master was no longer at the table in the Cenacle with them. Only Lazarus-John, Magdalena and the Mother of God knew this to be a further step reached, pointing to a promise - the promise that would soon find its fulfilment.

Full with despair, James, the step-brother of Christ Jesus, knelt in prayer from dawn to dusk, and so intensely did he beseech, with his questing heart, to know how he must draw close to the One whom he had not recognised until the very end, that Christ appeared to him in the fullness of his glory and said to him,

‘Fetch the bread and the wine, my brother, and eat and drink of it, do this in memory of me, for the Son of Man has risen! The sacrament of the bread and wine possesses the power to realize my presence if it is celebrated at the same time in many different places. It can cause my presence to light up in the fine airs of the earth so that it can shine forth and be experienced by you…for where two or three are gathered in my name; there I am in the midst of them. I am always with you, even unto the end of the earth!’

And so James, radiant as if he himself were the resurrected one celebrated the first Christian ritual with the disciples.

On the fiftieth day after Passover, the tenth day after the ascension of Christ and the failure of their spirit vision, the disciples were yet again in the Cenacle assembled to celebrate the ancient festival of Pentecost, which celebrated the gift of the Ten Commandments to Moses. During the night they observed the reading of the scriptures which was followed by the teachings and the soul loosening, heart-lifting, choral singing and dancing which evoked the mood of an offering before the Pentecostal sunrise. The breath of transubstantiation overshadowed the meal and its celebration lasted throughout the night until near sunrise when they heard the wind pick up outside the Cenacle. A wind had entered the city, an ancient wind called Ruach. It moved over the colossal bridge and swept through archways, forcing its way through the streets, curving its back around the walls of the houses and rising up to the upper room.

Ruach, Elohim, Aur! Breath, Elohim, Light!

They had heard it before, the roar of this wind and it turned their memory to the night of their Lord’s sacrifice when such a wind had blown through the city. Out of this recalling and the suffering that it evoked in their hearts they saw a vision as the mother of their Lord stood before them. She seemed to them like a pillar of light, full with a fire of holy enthusiasm, which was outspread towards all those present, descending like flames over their heads. A love filled their hearts to the very brim and overflowed in good will. This was a power of immortality, a divine spark, the spirit of truth that needed no outward law, was now birthed in each one individually through the agency of the Mother of God. This was the comforter, which caused an inner spring, an inner sunrise in peach blossom hues and the culmination of the Mother’s task prefigured in the marriage of Cana. For this was that community in which wine had turned to water, in which each soul had married the spirit! This was the moment foreseen by Simeon when he said that Mary would be pierced through her heart to become, once and for all, the mother of all!

What a mighty awakening was experienced now in each one! In them lived a force that could enable them to speak forth in a language that all men could understand, how Christ Jesus had died for all men and that each man now needed to come to his own knowledge of this mystery on earth, and not after death! To take this Good News to the world was to be their apostolic task.

But this awakening also caused a second realisation: they could see how they had been walking these last days since Gethsemane like sleepwalkers. Christ Jesus had returned after his sacrifice and had sat with them and had taught them over forty days and yet they had not clearly understood that he was that same man that had been with them for three years! Only now did they see Him truly, wakefully, consciously!

What joy! What sadness! What exquisite longing!

Only Lazarus-John, the Mother, Magdalena and Mary Cleophas had experienced these last fifty days in full consciousness and they had understood from the first, that just as the sun shines upon Thebes, upon Olympia, upon Jerusalem and Mecca, so too does His spirit live in the heart of every human being who chooses to hear His voice when he says: 

I am with you always, even unto the end of the world!

In the beginning, in the fine airs of heaven, was written the Eternal Gospel. And the Gospel was with God and the Gospel was God. All things were written therein and without it there was not a thing written that was written. It speaks of the life, the life that is the light of men. This light that shines into darkness of the heart and is not understood by men is Christ, the true light that enlightens every man. Christ came into the world and died and was resurrected.

Christ is the Gospel and the Gospel was made by Him.

But the world has not yet understood it.

FOUR VEILS - Excerpt from FIFTH GOSPEL - a Novel.

FOUR VEILS

             

C

AIAPHAS had been 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 not Caiphas.

He sighed and scratched his back absently. Would this day never end?

‘What do you want?’

One man said, with authority, ‘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!’

He 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 inviolable! How can the people celebrate, the Feast of the Unleavened Bread, with the smell and sight of carrion meat outside the gates!’

Caiaphas sighed, weary and bored; he 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, Caiphas!’ said the other Pharisee, ‘for without you the soldiers have no authority.’

Caiaphas turned an indolent eye upon the Pharisee, a look that could whither 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,’ Annanias offered now, 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 it, since the lance of Phineas had been that lance used to kill idolaters and adulterers, who had also not complied with the Laws of Moses. There was a species of poetic eloquence in using it against a heretic. He wished that he had thought of it himself.

Later, as he ascended the three steps, to commence the ritual burning of the incense, 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, it would have its way, until finally, it spread apart the curtains of his mind, and announced itself loudly in his ears:

Could he have been the Messiah?

This petition rang out from his soul, before he could snatch it, and fell over the heavy four-coloured veil that hung taut before the Holy of Holies, 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 about 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 Caiphas’ vestments and tore at his robes. It spoke, and the sound of it grew loud in his ears. 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 Caiaphas heard only these words:

HE IS!

Now, 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. Caiphas lost his balance and followed it, hitting his head on the altar. The priests dissolved in 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, 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, making open, 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.

TRIALS AND VISIONS - Excerpt from FIFTH GOSPEL - a Novel.

TRIALS AND VISIONS

T

HE stepbrother of Jesus was asleep in the sanctuary at the Temple. Before that he had spent the hours since the Paschal feast on his knees, communing with God, in contemplation of his destiny.

Years ago, after his baptism in the Jordan, Jacob son of Mariam, had let go of the power of his inherited birthright and had wandered the land like a fish without a sea, not belonging to any place. The corrupt priests and hypocritical rabbis of the Temple could not draw him to their side and he did not feel at ease with the Essenes, though they welcomed him always in their outer circles. He did not even consider himself a Nazarite in the strictest sense, and so could not call himself a true follower of John the Baptist.

He was a man in search of a spirit home.

During the years, conflicting words had reached him concerning his stepbrother. He had heard tales of John the Baptist’s testimony and rumours had abounded of Jesus’ healings and his exorcisms, his sermons and signs. Other rumours told that his stepbrother was a magician, a sorcerer ruled by devils; that he had broken the laws of their forefathers, that he had blasphemed and desecrated the Sabbath.

For his part, Jacob had kept himself aloof from all of it, not wishing to know what truth there might be to one or another rumour, that is, until this Paschal week.

Like others Jacob had come to Jerusalem to celebrate the holy day and to unite with the heart of his people. For he was tattered and thin after long months of wandering through the land–long months of punishing his body with fasting and prayer–and had sought a place to rest his head. But here, in Jerusalem, he could not avoid his stepbrother, who seemed to be everywhere; speaking out against the priests in one place, condemning the rituals of the Temple in another. Making more and more enemies as each day came, not only in the Sanhedrin, but also among the people.

He had not seen Jesus since that afternoon at Nazareth those years ago, and on hearing him in Jerusalem these last days it was hard to imagine him the same man, so strong and full of authority was his mien, and so powerful were his words. Yes. Jacob's baptism and those years of wandering had made his ears sensitive and discerning and he heard the ring of truth in his stepbrother’s voice, and over the days this had formed in him a question.

After all this time, and after all the wanderings and painful prayers…do I now realise that I have been in search of something, which I have always known?

On the eve of the Paschal feast, he took himself to the house given over to the Essenes, where he knew his family would be celebrating the Pascha. He took the steps that led from the outside of the house up to the cenacle, the upper room lit by candles, but when he came to be standing beneath the lintel, not quite in view and yet at the threshold of the room, he was taken by incertitude. In his heart, something told him that the circle around his stepbrother was closed and that there was no room for him. He was overcome then, with a feeling of grief for it and had decided to go, when a man he recognised, one of his stepbrother’s disciples, brushed past him making for the stairs. He had seen this man at the Temple, speaking to the priests. His name was Judas Iscariot.

The man was wild-eyed and taken by his own thoughts, and did not excuse himself, but continued on into the darkness. Disconcerted, Jacob made his way to the Temple, where he waited in the cold, awful wind for the gates to open for those in charge of preparing the morning offering of the Chagigah. Thereafter, in the court of the Nazarites he kneeled and alone and confused, fell to sleep, until disturbed by the sounds of the bleating of the animals, and a great commotion.

As he came out into the streets to see what had caused it, he realised that he had slept long, for the night was near given over to the green light of morning. He saw that the palace of Caiaphas was surrounded by a great crowd, gathered beneath lamps and torches. He went to it.

The pregnant moon hung in the west as he pushed past those people gathered outside, and made his way through the outer court and into the inner court of the palace. He looked about for anyone he knew.

‘What has passed?’ he asked a man.

‘The heretic, Jesus of Nazareth, is seized, and stands trial!’ the man answered.

With a vacant nod Jacob glanced about at a number of men huddled around a coal fire, in the middle of the court. The glow of the fire’s blue flame threw shadows over a face he recognised, another of his brother’s disciples. Jacob made to go to him but when he came near, he heard a Levite say to the man,

‘Are you not Simon-Peter, one of those who followed Jesus, the heretic?’

The disciple buried his face in his wool robe and said, ‘No…I am not!’

‘Yes, I saw you at the Garden!’ another Temple guard added.

‘No! I tell you, you are wrong!’

‘He lies!’ said a woman nearby, ‘I have seen him with the Nazarene!’

He turned on the woman, ‘I do not know what you are saying, addled woman! For I know not the man! Leave me be!’

A cock crowed then, and perturbed by it, the disciple hunched his shoulders and ran off into the crowds.

But Jacob did not go after him, he continued to the palace, where he was recognised and allowed passage. Once inside the great rectangular hall surrounded by columns, he searched among the many faces. The torches flapped in the breeze, and in that cold light he saw no face he recognised. A great uproar was heard coming from the front of the hall, where, on the raised platform, sat the high priest, Caiphas among members of the Sanhedrin. From what Jacob could see, there were only enough to make a quorum, twenty-three priests and rabbis, in a half circle formed by seats. As he made a way through the crowds he realised that the man who stood before these elders, surrounded by his accusers, was his stepbrother.

What had become of him since the supper in the cenacle made Jacob take a deep breath; nothing could have prepared him for what now met his eyes. His stepbrother was a battered man, leaning to one side, with one eye bruised and the other squinting away at the blood that oozed from cuts to his scalp and his forehead. His nose was broken, his lips were swollen and he shook from his head to his bare feet, for his garments had been torn from his body and he wore only a loin cloth. His hands were trussed up before him like an animal ready for the slaughterhouse.

A rising up of indignation was caught in his throat and his eyes filled with tears. He looked about for a support and found a column and leaning against it, transfixed, he watched and listened while the room erupted in screams for his brother’s blood.

Caiaphas was speaking to Jesus from his grand position on the dais,

‘Witnesses have heard your words, which make of you a defiler…and a seducer…and a heretic!’

Jesus did not answer.

One by one, came the accusers then, to shout out their charges and claims.

‘He said he would destroy the Temple, and rebuild it in three days!’

‘But he did not say he would build it with his hands!’

‘He calls himself the Son of Man!’

‘No! He says he is the Son of God!’

‘But he heals the sick and he casts out demons! Is this not a holy man, who can do this?’

‘He might cure the sick but he does it on a Sabbath!’

‘He casts out demons because he is a demon himself and he is in league with them!’

‘He teaches false doctrines!’

‘He does not wash his hands before he breaks bread!’

‘But he speaks of peace and love and breaks bread with the poor!’

‘Yet he has members of the Sicarri as his disciples!’

These contradictions fell into a confusion and rabble of voices.

Jacob saw Nicodemus, a well-respected member of the Sanhedrin come into the fray, followed by Gamaliel and Joseph of Arimathea.

Nicodemus entered into the centre of the horseshoe of gathered men and said, ‘Why have you called this council without us? This meeting is not lawful! There has not been proper notice, and an attendance of all the members of the council!’

The people grew quiet.

Gamaliel pointed to Caiaphas and added his own words, ‘You have tried to prevent those of us who do not agree with you from being here! Such a trial conducted in haste, while many of the council are preparing this morning for the ceremony, is not legal!’

Joseph was angry. ‘Where is the passage in the law that approves of trying a cause at night, and so close to a feast day!’

Caiaphas stood and came forward with a scornful eye. ‘My colleagues…it was not our intention to exclude you…we had to act quickly. If we had not seized this heretic and stopped him from inciting the people to rebellion, the Romans would have done so, and this would have caused grief to the Temple and to Israel!’ 

‘But these accusations only show the confusion of your witnesses, for they bear no proof of his wrongdoing!’ Nicodemus pointed out.

‘Well then!’ said Caiaphas, drawing close to Jesus. ‘Let the man say something himself!’

But there was only silence from Jesus.

‘Why do you not give answer to these accusations?’ Caiaphas taunted, ‘I adjure you to tell us if you are Christ, the Messiah, the son of the living God!’

When the voice came, Jacob recognised no authority in it, it was the voice of a man, not the voice of a god, ‘If I tell you that I am he, you will not believe me…and if I ask you who you think that I am, you will not answer me, nor let me go…no matter what I say, I am condemned.’

‘Are you the Son of God?’ the high priest said.

‘This is a question which only you can answer,’ Jesus said. ‘For it only has value if you, yourself can see the God in me. But I tell you, one day all will see the Son of Man, sitting on the right hand of the power of God, and coming in the ether-cloud realms of heaven. Then, you will know, that I am He!’

Jacob knew it suddenly; in his heart he knew it – what he said was true!

But he was torn from the vision by the words:

‘Giddupha! Blasphemy!’ Caiaphas had a blade in his hand. ‘Blasphemy and sedition!!!’ He took up the corner of his outer and his inner garment and made a tear from top to bottom, renting both. ‘What further need have we of witnesses! Now all of you have heard it for yourselves, with your own ears! What say you to this,’ he said to the crowds, ‘for life or for death?’

The hall resounded with such fierceness, that it near reached heaven.

‘Death! Death! Death!’

‘No!’ Gamaliel cried, outraged. ‘A capital sentence is not legal unless it is pronounced at a regular meeting of the Sanhedrin!’

But his words were drowned out. The priests were already coming off their dais. Each man took his turn to spit into Jesus’ face or to hit him with a staff or to slap him with a hand before leaving the court.

Jacob’s soul welled up with anger and he spoke out so loudly and so heartily that the voices took a pause. ‘The golden band on your mitre has the graven words, “Holiness unto Jehovah”! It means you have the power to atone for those who blaspheme!’

The pause was breathless, the crowd waited.

The cold, fierce gaze of the high priest moved to Jacob. ‘I will not atone for a man who profanes the name of God, again and again!’ Caiaphas raised his staff and looked to the vaults of the hall. ‘I–will–not!’

A terrible draft, unearthly and cruel, washed over the room now, and Jacob saw shadows, and shadows of shadows, sweep over all gathered there; like malignant birds borne by an unfelt wind. He saw, with his own eyes, how these shades were inspired into the souls of those present, and enticed them to rise up in a high pitch of hate and rage, so that snarling, like one great rabid animal, the throng moved on Jesus.

Caiaphas shouted out over the din, ‘Put this king in the dungeon until he is delivered to Rome, for only Rome can render him what he is due!’

By the time the members of the council had left the tribunal, the crowds had descended upon Jesus and were revelling in trampling upon the fallen greatness of the man they had welcomed to Jerusalem like a king only a few days ago. He was clubbed and beaten with fists, and insulted and hit with staves, and in the midst of this brutality, this coarseness and ferocity and profanity, he fell, and was swallowed up by the crowds, and Jacob saw him no more.

Jacob was aghast. The representatives of the highest human knowledge in Jerusalem had failed to see the Messiah of their people! But he was soon reminded of that peaceful morning, looking into Joseph’s workshop, when the image of his brother Yeshua had surfaced on the face of Jesus, and he had not wished to see that Jesus was his brother.

Was he any better than these men?

And so it was, on that terror-full night, when all hell seemed to be let loose on the world that Jacob finally found the purpose of his life, and his spirit home…and it had come too late.

Last Supper - Excerpt from THE FIFTH GOSPEL a Novel.

On the south side of Mount Zion, there stood a property owned by Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, which they had given over to the Essenes of Jerusalem for their celebrations. Here, in an upper room called the cenacle, reached only from the outside by a staircase, Jesus gathered with his disciples for the celebration of the Passover feast.

The room glowed from the warmth of firelight and from the windows there came only a scant light, from that silver moon that rose in the ocean of black above. The tables, set like a horseshoe, followed the shape of the room, and were surrounded by divans upon which the disciples inclined. On the middle divan sat his master, he sat to his left, and on the right sat Judas with the rest dispersed here and there according to their fellowship.

The tumultuous events of the past week, had given way to a contemplative mood among them, and a renewed feeling of gloom, of foreboding, began to fall over those present with the oncoming night, made more real by the whispering of an unearthly wind that whistled around the walls of the houses, and made the trees shiver.

This wind recalled to John stories of that first Passover, and the sweeping destruction that was visited on the people of Egypt by the angel of death, passing over only those whose doors were painted with the blood of the lamb. A thought came to John,

A blood sacrifice had once saved the people.

He thought on this as the others ate and talked quietly among themselves, the women came to refill the cups with wine and the baskets with the unleavened bread. When his eyes fell on Christ Jesus he was taken by his radiant presence and another thought came, like fish glimmering below the surface of a stream:  

He is that image handed down from generation to generation. Jesus is the true Passover lamb! He must die to save Israel!

Full with this realisation he looked about him but realised that none of his fellows had seen it, they hanging on his master’s words.

‘I have desired to eat this Passover with you,’ he said to them, ‘before I suffer my sacrifice…for I say to you, that I will not eat again until the Kingdom of God has fulfilled its task in my body.’

He took a basket full with unleavened bread and gave thanks for it, and began breaking it into small pieces, and handed it to those present.

‘This bread is like my body, which I shall sacrifice for you. A time will come when you will not see me though I am within your heart. When you eat of the bread, made from wheat, remember, you will be eating of my body, which will have become one with the earth.’

Taking the jug of wine then, he gave thanks, and filled a jasper cup and said,

‘Drink this among yourselves.’

He lifted the cup high.

‘When you drink wine made from grapes remember, you will be drinking of my blood, which I have shed for you. Look at this cup. In times to come, when you shall not see me, take comfort, for I will be with you, in your soul, in the same way that wine sits in this cup.’ His countenance looked about the group. ‘I will be in your hearts, in all of you, even those who do not love me.’

‘We all love you!’ said Phillip.

‘You may say that, Phillip, but even now, one among you at this table, will betray me.’

John saw anxiety scurry over those faces in the group, like a light disturbs mice in a dark room. Whispers and looks, and wisps of glances, were exchanged and all around men fell into disbelief, moving their hands this way and that way.

‘Who is it Lord. Is it, I?’ one man after another asked.

At this point John felt as though he was in a dream. Quietly Lazarus-John, the beloved of his Lord, entered the room. To his mind he carried a basin, and a pitcher, and on seeing him, the others began to mumble and to argue among themselves, not as to the betrayer, but as to whom it was that was closest to their master. In his heart, John, son of Zebedee, felt no desire to be greater than the one who was raised from the dead. In fact, he felt a certain kinship with the beloved of his master. His raising, in itself, meant that some strange mystery was affixed to him, which John did not fully comprehend, but which he knew in his soul to be of profound significance.

In this dream, he saw his master lay aside his garments, and take a towel to gird himself. He saw him pouring water into a basin and brought it to the table, and no man knew what he was about to do until he knelt, and started removing the sandals from Andrew’s feet, to wash them. Andrew seemed astonished. All were amazed, as the master proceeded to the next disciple, and the next.

He continued to wash their feet, one by one, and while he did so he said to them,

‘Who is greater, the one who sits at the table or the one that serves him? Is it not he that sits at the table? I sit at the table and I serve those whom I love. For you are like my feet, and hands, and arms,’ he said to them, ‘what would I do without you? Just as the head must bow down in loving, humble service to all that lives below it, so must I bow down before you who are a part of me…’

He came to Simon-Peter and Simon-Peter, aghast, fell to shaking his head, ‘No! No! I shall never let you wash my feet!’

Christ Jesus looked up at him, ‘But Peter, my brother…if I do not wash your feet, then you are not a part of me.’

Simon-Peter was full of emotion then for it, ‘Lord! Not my feet only, then,’ he said, and put his feet in the bowl, ‘but also my hands, and my head! My whole body!’

There was a quiet murmur of laughter among them.

‘Your feet are the lowermost part of your body, they help you to stand on the earth,’ he said, wiping them with the towel, ‘When they are clean, your body rejoices. But your soul may also defile your body, if it is bound by passions.’

John came awake with a start and realised that he had been day-dreaming his master’s words to life. 

Christ Jesus continued, ‘For this reason, your soul must not be your master, but you must rather be the master of your soul, or you will pollute your body. All of you who sit among me represent various degrees of perfection…you, I can lead to the Father…for you are clean, and unpolluted…all except one whose soul has mastery over his body, and whose passions have taken control of him.’

The disciples looked about them again, not knowing what he meant.

‘He is the one whom I say, shall betray me.’

‘Who do you speak of, Lord?’ Simon-Peter asked.

Lazarus-John had taken a seat beside Christ Jesus, and was inclining his soul to his master’s words, and it seemed to John of Zebedee that his master had answered the question, for he heard these words:

He is the one, whom I shall give a sop when I have dipped it’

His master dipped a portion of bread into his wine then, and handed it to Judas, and this, being a most intimate and honoured act, made Judas hesitate.

Judas looked at him.

‘You have been given your wages, do it quickly,’ Christ Jesus said.

With eyes round and strange, Judas took the sop and put it in his mouth, and in a flicker, John saw the deathly vision of Satan reflected in his eyes, and Judas took his bag and was gone into the night.

The others thought that because Judas held a bag full of money, Christ Jesus had asked him to buy something for the feast, or had sent him to give something to the poor, but John knew the truth. In his heart he knew it, though he did not know how. Judas had already been paid for his betrayal!

When Judas left the upper room, Christ Jesus said,

‘Now the circle is made pure, for all that is selfish and full of passion has left it.’ 

After that, they ate the bread and wine without appetite, and gave thanks by singing a Pascal hymn, from the second portion of the Hallel. John’s heart was low. He did not wish to think on how the betrayal would come, or when.

After the Hallel, Christ Jesus stood and having found his mother said some words to her and kissed her on the cheek. John saw how his Lord’s mother near lost her footing for it.

When she was consoled, he returned to his disciples and said, ‘We go.’

Taking some torches, they went out into the darkness of night. Above, the hiding moon gave scant light and they were afraid.

It was a strict observance of the Passover to remain inside the safety of the home, for in the open no man was protected from the avenging angel of death. But John loved his master and trusted him and despite his fear he fell in with the others, and followed them into the chilly air. They passed by the gate north of the Temple and descended into a desolate part of the valley of Kidron. John realised how tired he was. The long week had made inroads into his body, and weariness now caused him to feel breathless. They   walked on, and crossed the swollen brook, and took the road that led toward Olivet, to the garden of Gethsemane.

His master told them, ‘Soon you will not see me…I will be delivered to the Levites and they will take me to the Gentiles and I will be crucified…’

The wind sang in his ears, and John felt wilted with terror for these words.

‘I will follow you!’ said Simon-Peter, stumbling in the darkness, ‘I will fight cheek and jowl with your enemies. You see, I have brought my filleting knife? Sharp too it is and no mistake! I am ready to go to prison, and to march into death with you!’

Christ Jesus looked at him in the mysterious blue light of that spring moon, ‘Put your knife away, brother…you say you will lay down your life for my sake and yet…I say to you, you will all desert me.’

There were gasps.

‘All,’ he said significantly.

‘Not I!’ Simon-Peter said, ‘This lot, may, but not I!’

He stopped to look at Peter, ‘Before the cock crows you will have denied me three times.’

Simon-Peter howled then, like a wounded wolf. ‘Not I! Tell me it is not so!’

Jesus was grim-faced and stern, ‘Satan desires to have you and take the best of you for himself as he has taken Judas. But I know, that in your heart you are full of faith, and for this reason I have prayed for you, that your faith will not fail…I have prayed that you will stay with me, to help me carry my cross!’

‘I will carry it!’ said Andrew.

Looking to Andrew he said, ‘Yours shall be a different cross, Andrew, and for this reason it shall be remembered by all men…I tell you, this night, none of you will remain with me…you will scatter, every man to his own, and you will leave me alone for fear…But I will not be alone, because Christ is with me and through Him I will overcome the world!’

Christ Jesus walked on, breathing heavily, as if all things were now an effort for him.

Simon-Peter, who would have fallen to his knees after those words from his master, were it not for Philip and Andrew beside him, trailed behind, sorrowing, ‘Why did you say, that you would carry the cross, Andrew? Do you always have to better me…? I will carry it, by God! I will not fail you, master! I will not fail you!’ Simon-Peter called out.

Some of the disciples began to mourn. John’s eyes filled with tears.

Christ Jesus said, from his position ahead of them, ‘You are sad now, I know it, and I tell you, you shall be even more sad later, but your distress will be turned into elation. Have courage! Do not let yourselves be afraid, for fear will make you sleep, and I need you awake! Is it not true, that when a woman labours she is full of sorrow, because her hour is come, and then as soon as the child is born, she is full of joy? I will die, that is certain, but what is death if not a spirit birth? Death my brothers, is only semblance. I say to you, I was born from the spirit and again I shall leave the world, through death, and I shall return to the spirit, and I will live again!’

John had known it all along, but only now did the others understand that their master was indeed going to his death. To this was added the understanding, that his death would bring forth new life.

‘What do you wish us to do?’ asked Bartholomew, between tears. ‘Tell us, and we will do it…because we love you!’

‘As I have told you, I am like a man taking a long journey. I leave my house, and I command the porter to watch the gates until I return.’ He paused now to say to them, ‘You are my porters…if you love me keep watch! Do not let me find you sleeping…do not be tempted to sleep!’ he said it, and his voice seemed full of exhaustion.

Joseph of Arimathea had given them the key to his garden, which was full of olive trees and roses, and fruit trees and they had come here for contemplation, rest, and prayer during the last week. His master used the key now, to open the lock, and they entered into the garden where all seemed strangely evil.

Simon-Peter said, ‘Lock it again Lord, it will buy us time.’

‘Why should I buy time? The Wheel of destiny is set in motion, and all will be as it will be…you cannot change it…’ He took Simon-Peter’s face gently into his hands, and looked deep into his eyes. ‘When will you understand, my brother, why I have come to this earth? When will you see that I have not come to teach, or to heal, or to cause miracles…? I have come to die!’

This last word took all of his breath and he let go of Simon-Peter’s face and continued walking.

‘The hour of darkness is at hand, the people, the guards, the priests, they all have their parts.’

‘Does no man have a choice?’ Phillip said to him catching up. ‘What of the freedom you have told us about...are all things foreordained, so that nothing can be changed. What of those who will persecute you, do they not stand a chance, or will they be condemned forever to pay for it?’

He looked at him, ‘Until now, you have all been bound to necessity and you have not been free. You have not been free but you have believed that you are free, because you are trapped in illusion. What is to befall me soon is still necessary, Phillip, but after my death, you will have freedom and the possibility of salvation.’

‘Freedom from what?’ Phillip asked.

‘Freedom from the illusion of death,’ Christ Jesus answered. ‘I will die and overcome death, to save the world from illusion, to show all of mankind that after death, there is life. Then salvation may come, not only for those who love me, but also for those who are against me now, those who raise their hands to strike me, and those who come to take me to my death. Rest assured, although these men do not know me…although they may spit upon me, and call abuse, and wound me, they shall remember me, even after death, and this will prepare the way for them to come to me freely, in their coming lives.’

‘What did he say?’ said Andrew.

Simon-Peter, stunned by his master’s words, now lost his composure entirely. ‘Why don’t you listen Andrew! Must I always be your ears? He says that everything that happens to him is destined to be, but that after he dies his death will bring about freedom, so that even those who do not love him now, in the future, may choose to love him!’

When they reached a clearing bordered by trees their master said to them, ‘John, Peter, James, come with me, the rest may remain here…pray that you do not fall asleep, that you are not tempted to lose yourselves, that the world might know how I have fought to wrest men’s souls from the clutches of death.’ 

John followed Christ Jesus his brother James and Simon-Peter to a different place, deeper into the garden. Around them lurked the shadowed corners, and above where the moon came and went behind clouds. A damp, frozen wind, swept the trees, and wound around the shivering group.

What would they do without him?

Where would they go?

Behind them the others huddled together: Andrew and Phillip, Thomas and Matthew Levi, Jude and Simon the step-brothers of the Lord, and young James, the son of Cleophas, as well as Bartholomew. Those who had walked with him, and broken bread with him, and suffered with him all the deprivations of the last three years. 

Christ Jesus left the three of them in a small clearing. He would go nearby alone. He warned them not to fall to sleep.
They sat together, pulled their cloaks around them and looked at one another with dread-filled faces, for they understood with clarity, that the hour had come.They had been warned of it, time and again, and yet in their eyes was matched their un-readiness for it. Fear made a longing for the oblivion of sleep, a longing for the comfort of nothingness. Above, winged shadows menaced the moon and the wind was full of voices.
John’s exhaustion was deep. He remembered that such a feeling had come over him before, upon the mountain of spirit, when he had not endured the vision of his master’s glory. It struck him that he should not sleep again. No. But his eyes were heavy. He could feel a dullness rise upwards to wipe away his thoughts – like a dreadful guardian who bars the mysteries from those who are undeserving. Perhaps his will was unequal to sleep’s unstoppable force?

He looked at the others, they were already asleep.

He pinched his skin, he rubbed his eyes, but the sounds of their regular breath lulled him. He made a prayer in his heart for strength to withstand it, since he did not want to fail his master when he needed him the most! He told himself, he must stay awake and ‘watch’…and yet…how blissful the others seemed to him in their numb peace! Perhaps he could close his eyes for a moment…surely a moment would scarcely matter? How consoling it would be to rest, to forget the unpleasant and dreadful events that he knew would soon come; time enough to worry about them on the morrow.

He blinked. It was only one blink, and then came the sound of his brother calling through the darkness of the garden,

‘Get up! They come!’

Standing among his fellows now, with his mind in a fog and his mouth dry, he rubbed his eyes and saw torches, striking a path through the garden. He realised that with a blink, fear had drawn a frozen hand over his eyes and he had failed his Lord.