Temptation - Excerpt from FIFTH GOSPEL - A novel.

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 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 names and now he would walk among them – a God extracted, separated out from heaven and born into the body of a man - and how many would recognise him?

His conception on earth was to his Fathers in the heavens, like a death. He was alone. 

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. And this reminded him of 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 of the cave came a blur of blue wings, desiccated and clawing and the world stirred to make way for it.

Another voice came into his ear:

‘Son of God! Do as your brother says, let us see? Jump! What can happen to you? Fear is something only mortals feel, angels are above such feelings!’  

What 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. He was now birthed inside a man! 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 entered into Jesus now. 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 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 malignant 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 human beings 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 human beings 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 that is why 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 the orphan from heaven closed his eyes then, and slept his first earthly sleep.

GARDEN OF GOOD AND EVIL - Excerpt from Fifth Gospel - A Novel

 

He was in the Garden with his heart full of woe, for he did not know if any of his followers, even his chosen ones, would be capable of remaining awake with him during his tempestuous struggle with death.

He looked to heaven: the wolf was biting at the moon and clouds were covering her face. He remembered that temptation in the wilderness those years ago, and recognised the feeling of dread that was come upon him.

The wind paused – a reprieve.

It was a moment stolen from out of the stream of time. Soon his agony would begin, but not yet…for now the part of him that was a man, took in the smells of the night and the aroma of wild roses. It recalled to his mind a tale spoken with his mother’s voice, of a Nightingale that loved a white rose and sang the most beautiful songs to it, but only from afar, for fear of its thorns. One night, beneath the swollen moon, having drunk her fill of song and emboldened by love, the Nightingale resolved to embrace the rose. Clasping it to her breast, she was pierced through by a thorn, and yet she sung the most beautiful song she had ever sung; a song of sacrifice and true love found, pressing the thorn closer and closer to her heart. When she died the rose mourned, and stained with her heart’s blood, the rose forever bloomed red.

He thought on his mother, dead so many years and yet so alive in his stepmother. He thought of Yeshua, dead and yet hovering over him always. He reflected on the mystery of love and leaned his heart toward Jerusalem, which stood deathly pale and shivering in the scant moonlight. He had embraced her and sung his love-song to her, and still she did not love him. Soon, she would pierce him with her thorn and he would stain the world with his blood!

His sadness was a deep well, and yet lofty was his love, which was higher than life. For what was the heart of a bird, compared to the heart of a man? And what was the passion of a man, compared to the passion of a god? He looked up. The cold moon died away, and the man’s thoughts became the thoughts of the God.

‘The hour is come,’ he said to himself, and prayed for strength.

The wind began its stirring. Time established its dominion over the world. His body resumed its work, dissolving in pain and he knelt on the ground in what he knew were death throws. He felt the cold breath of death near his cheek, and he shivered.

‘Father in heaven, help them to remain awake!’

But they were faltering. He knew this because the Holy Spirit was loosening from him. Soon he would be alone and he did not know if he would be strong enough to hold back the tide of his godhood beyond this hour.

‘Simon-Peter!’ he cried. ‘Watch with me!’

There was no answer.  

And yet…he was not alone.

From the wind came a whisper of the blue Archangel, Satan.

‘Greetings, Son of God! You have lasted longer than I expected in that wretched temple. But rejoice! I have come to unlock the door and to let you out!’

‘You mean you have come to ensnare me in your prison!’ he said to him.

The God of Death seized him tenderly by the head, to peer into his eyes. ‘Son of God, Alpha and Omega, Lamb of Lambs! You are deluded! Do you not see how much I love you? Look around you, where are your disciples? The moon herself hides her face and leaves you in darkness. Even the Holy Ghost is taking to its heels, without so much as a god-speed! I alone have remained at your side in this dark hour, and I come to bring you sleep, and rest, and comfort!’

Satan’s blue, claw-like wings began to enfold him, but he prised them away.

‘Leave me be! I will die in freedom!’

‘Stop joking, for God’s sake! There is no freedom in dying, only the necessity of the Father, and I am his master craftsman! You might be His son by name, but you are a son to me, by nature! You are stubborn, and full of longing…like I am! Come then, give your father a kiss...now or later, what does it matter?’

His breath drew near.

‘Get away! If this body is to pass from me before my task is accomplished, then let it be God’s will, not yours!’ 

The angel sighed, filling the whole world with shadows. ‘You wanted earthly life, you stooped to drink from my fountain – and you have drunk it dry! Now your flesh is drunk and your soul is drunk and you must succumb to my will! Let me take you home before you hurt yourself. Forget those fools you love…they have already forgotten you, for they do not love you like I do. The truth is that when I come into a room, memory goes out the door. You see, memory is a whore…she loves the man who pays her the most, and my purse is always full!’

Christ Jesus took in a breath and Satan slipped into it, filling the span of his lungs. Satan would have him breathe out, but he would not. When he could stand it no more, his out-breath gave wings to Satan’s words,

‘I die!’

 At that moment, the moon’s dark spectres floated away from her. Demons and ghosts and phantoms were drawn to him like vultures to dead meat. They came down in the gusts of wind to encircle and enfold him in their shadows, called forth by Satan’s words in him.

Stripped bare of the living forces of the Holy Spirit by that creature’s power over his disciples, he could not prevent the mighty force of Christ from entering to the very bones. This was Satan’s realm, the bones, and here death would seize him too soon, before the performance of his sacrifice.

An ice-like pain tore through him now. He could feel the heavenly power invade his organs, it began to macerate his liver and spleen, burning holes in his lungs, erupting into his heart and bladder and brain. It broke through the walls of those earthly veins with such power that it flooded the cup of his tissues, making blood seep through the pores of his skin and from his eyes. Could he feel it in his bones?

He was knocked down by it, and fell with his face in the dirt.

The world turned.

The wind dropped.

A sudden quiet fell over the grotto.

Would he die now?

Upon the midnight hour, in the garden of good and evil, the struggle of life with death made a pause.

A sublime effulgence, a subtle warmth descended, melting away the coldness of death. This gold-giving radiance gathered into the sparkling, shimmer-glowing form of an angel – the angel of John the Baptist. He bent life’s cup to Christ Jesus’ lips and let him drink the nectar that would bring strength and life and vigour to his wasted body.

The moon’s old forces were obliged then, to unwind from him and to scurry away. A shriek was heard in the bowels of the world and the blue archangel of death fell back into the shadows. Satan had not succeeded. The moment had passed. The Christ in him had not entered the bones and Jesus had not succumbed to death – for now.

Relief washed over him. He would go on to accomplish his deed.