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.

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.

SCORPION~EAGLE - Excerpt from Fifth Gospel - a Novel

SCORPION~EAGLE

T

HEY came into Bethany and Judas followed last of all, his mind full of strange thoughts. The sun began to drop its bruised body into the godforsaken hills as they neared the township, and the men were weary, having travelled since yesterday.

It was now more than three days since word had reached them of Lazarus’ worsening sickness, and all feared that he was by now dead. But Judas was not concerned for it, something else made his brow dark and his eyes aflame. That spirit, which had plagued him these many months, had begun to make a way into his head and he could feel it, rearranging the rooms of his mind. It wrapped around his heart to combine his disappointments, his hate and his lust, into a poisoned leaven for his limbs.

For months now, he had waited for Jesus to bring back the glory days of the Maccabees, but benevolence and kindness, patience and love were all that he had offered. In Judas’ mind, all the deeds of salvation, enacted so inconspicuously by Jesus, whatever they might be, were worthless. Words of compassion and tolerance were not enough to change the world; only the sword could change it. Blood for soil! It had taken him time to see it, but finally Judas had realised that Jesus was not the Messiah. For revolution and war were not accomplished by a man deliberate in his desire to change nothing, but to leave all men free.

The other disciples spoke of Jesus as the Son of Man. They spoke of how he had fed thousands, how he had quietened storms, and produced otherworldly transfigurations of his being. For his part, Judas had seen nothing of it, and yet he had been with them always. How could they have seen what he had not? He supposed that they had seen dreams…only dreams…and even now none of them could see what he could see: that even in his body, once so youthful and strong, Jesus was less vigorous and obviously headed for decay, like a wasted old man.

But something more had stirred his hate, and made his rebellious spirit rip at his soul: a fire-laden desire had grown in Judas for the woman whom Jesus had named Magdalena.

From the first, he had disliked her brother, the Hellenistic youth, Lazarus, whose life was lived in luxury and privilege and whose soul was the opposite of his. However, in Magdalena, Judas had sensed something akin to his own restlessness, a soul full of dammed up passions. But it was not only her soul which drew him. The woman’s unparalleled beauty had stirred his loins–a beauty which time, and again, betrayed her attempts to mortify it, or to conceal it. For no matter how many veils the woman wore, or how coarse was the garment draped over her shoulders, a fundamental note of allure was plucked from the instruments of his manhood each time he saw her, and he would have the song played in full!

Each night, his daily thoughts rose up into the ecstasy of dreams full of the consummation of their mutual passion. In his dreams, she wanted him with a near crazed desperation, which fired his virility and turned the seed inside him and churned the waters of his soul.

During those long months apart from her, when the women were sent to Bethany for their safety, and the disciples were sent out, two by two, into the villages to announce the coming of the Kingdom, Judas’ lust had matured and curdled in the darkness of his soul, so that by the time he returned to the rich youth’s house, with the other disciples, it sought, by any means, to find its satisfaction. What dread force of hate had he felt then, on finding that in his absence, a love had grown between Magdalena and Jesus? A love that others said was warm, and calm of heart, full of wide spheres, and generous pastures, which cared nothing for itself but sought only the welfare of another.

A love he did not understand!

He suffered when he saw how Magdalena’s eyes were full of devotion, for a man who would never take her in his arms and ignite her womanly passions.

Even Simon-Peter had seen it, and had asked Jesus,

‘Why do you love her more than all of us?’

‘Think of it like this, Peter: I am the light of the world and your soul receives my light, my love, according to its capacity to see and to receive it. Magdalena’s soul has more capacity than yours, and for this reason she receives more love than you.’

Judas, blinded by anger, schemed and schemed.

Many of the disciples were simple fishermen and they did not know that Jesus had in the past months revealed secrets of initiation to ordinary people. The betrayal of these secrets was punishable by death and it was for this reason that the Pharisees and Sadducees sought vehemently to find witness of it. Judas would use this to his advantage, an advantage that became clearer at Perea, where Jesus finally unveiled his reason for leaving his ailing favourite, Lazarus, behind.

When Jesus told his worried disciples that Lazarus’ sickness was not unto death, but only a sleep, that his sleep was for the glory of God, Judas put two and two together: Lazarus was not dying, but undergoing an initiation, and this was the reason why Jesus waited a day before returning to Bethany, since the initiation must last three days.

Jesus wanted to make a show of his power near to Jerusalem; not those powers that had made possible the raising of the dead boy at Nain, but something more. Jesus would show to all men what lived only in the deepest recesses of the mystery temples:  the raising of an initiate from the tomb, from the underworld of the dead!

Everything now made sense. Throughout their time in Perea, when Jesus spoke of the good shepherd who gives life to his sheep, he was pointing to himself, as the priest, who is the awakener of initiates; when he had spoken of other sheep which were not of the fold, but which the shepherd must bring forth with a call, he had been speaking of Lazarus. But when Jesus had said that he and the Father were one, Judas recognised these as mystery words. Words that meant a priest was ready to use the forces of the Father, that is, to awaken the body of an initiate, and to raise him from his Temple Sleep.

No man came to the Father, that is, no man returned to the physical body from the three-day initiation sleep, except through a priest! 

Jesus was not a priest! This would be enough to destroy him.

When they came now near Bethany, some furlongs from the township, they passed that desolate place of burial, the tombs that were set into the walls of the hills. Here, near what they called the house of rest, many men stood mourning, without their women, as was the custom. The sun was near gone over the land, and made long shadows of those dry hills. The mourners turned to see Jesus, and rushed to tell him of Lazarus. Soon, Andrew was sent to fetch Martha. The woman came in her drab attire of lament and with her face the colour of ashes. She fell at Jesus’ feet and told him that Lazarus was dead. She said that had Jesus had been here he could have prevented his death by performing a miracle. She said her sister Magdalena was full of grief and was sat as still as death in the house, waiting for him to come.

Judas watched Jesus carefully, in his face was written pain for her sorrow and something other, which he did not discern. Jesus told Martha that Lazarus was not dead, for he was the resurrection and the life, and all who believed in him, though they were dead, would live. After that she fell on her knees and affirmed that he was Christ, the Son of God.

He said to her, ‘Tell Magdalena I call her. That she must arise, for I need her by my side.’ 

She took herself away then, and many came to gather around. Judas heard them mumbling, that if this was the man who had cured a blind man and lepers, and had cast out demons why had he not prevented Lazarus from dying? As they speculated on what he might do, from out of the sun’s vanishing luminance there emerged the figure of Magdalena.

Judas saw only her face, gazing out from that mourning veil, streaked with tears. What a face it was! Did her tears seem to him to be tears of joy or mourning? He could not tell. She was inscrutable. His blood made skips in his veins. He was restless. He waited for her to glance his way. He beckoned her to look just once.

The women of the town, who had followed Magdalena’s steps, now came upon the place where Jesus stood with his disciples. They wept and pulled at their clothes, while Magdalena fell at Jesus’ feet – without so much as a fidget of glance in Judas’ direction.

He waited. Quiet fell over the day, save the groaning and moaning of the mourners.

‘Had you been here, my brother would not have died!’ she said to him. But her words were spoken differently, for in them, Judas noted a tone of thankfulness that Jesus had not come sooner! Tears fell from her eyes. Were these tears of joy?

When Jesus saw it, he raised Magdalena’s chin with his hand and Judas saw then what passed between them, and this awakened in him a realisation. Rage and discontent surged through him, and he could taste gall in his spit. He wanted to howl like an animal for the anguish of it – not only for its intimacy, which must be clear to all, but also for its complicity, since he now understood that Magdalena was in some way entangled in Lazarus’ initiation.  

His bowels were full of thorns, and his spit was sour.

‘Where have you laid him?’

Jesus’ voice was soft and tender. His eyes were full with tears and Judas knew that he was harnessing a force of love in his heart, a force that would raise his pupil from his death trance.

Even those who were not his disciples sensed it, and said, ‘Look how Jesus loves Lazarus!’

Magdalena showed him the grave, covered with a great round stone.

Would he do it now? Judas leaned his mind in his direction, daring him to do it.

Jesus walked to the grave and paused before it, looking troubled. He turned and his eyes fell on Judas. Judas felt a gasp come, for it was as if Jesus had seen in that moment all of his thoughts.

Jesus turned around again, and said, ‘Take away the stone.’

Martha was alarmed, ‘But Lord! By this time there will be a smell, for he has been dead near four days.’

Jesus said to her, ‘Martha, did I not just say to you, that if you believed, you would see God glorified in Lazarus?’

Martha lowered her eyes, ‘Yes, Lord.’

When the men rolled away the heavy stone, and returned to the crowds, the people immediately put the corners of their garments about their faces to fend off the smell.

But there was no smell.

Jesus raised his eyes, and said, ‘Father, I thank you. That my word is one with you in spirit, and that you hear me always, but because of the people who stand by, I will say it out loud, that they too might hear how the Word, your Son, is in me, so that they might believe, that you have sent Him to me, and that through Him you and I are one!’

Judas knew, that by saying this, Jesus wished to reveal how in himself lived the Word, the Son of the Father, which he would make enter into Lazarus’ soul, to awaken him.

‘Lazarus come forth!’ resounded the forbidden words.

Nature drew a breath. Above, came the sound of a great eagle, making its noises as it rose upwards over the mountains, circling the skies, and falling away into the melting sun of day’s end.  The world followed it, and Judas also followed it as it soared aloft and died away. A thought came then, foreign to his experience: why could he not be like that bird, basking in the light of the sun with hopeful abandon? Must he live always like a scorpion, fearing the sun?

But this self-understanding was short-lived, for upon hearing a round of gasps, his concentration was now returned to see the beloved of Jesus, the initiate, coming from out of the black mouth of the cave, bound with graveclothes.

‘Loosen him, and let him go!’ Jesus told the women.

Martha, shocked, remained behind. Only Magdalena went to Lazarus to help. After that, Jesus, thronged by all those who had come to the burial place, was swept away to Bethany, but not before turning once more to look upon Judas.

That glance made a path clear from Judas’ head to his heart. He was standing upon the soil of freedom, between his hope and his fear. Here, it seemed to him, was his last occasion to love this man; to love him despite his urge to betray him; to recognise his greatness, despite his impulse to follow his destiny.

But he could not.

The eyes, multicoloured and endless-deep, held and held him, until they held no more. Gasping, with his head turning in circles, Judas was let go, and he sat upon a rock to get his breath back. After a moment he rose to make his way to Bethany, his eyes tethered to the ground.   

High above him, the eagle scooped wind with its wings and circled him, its eye ranged the sky…its gaze was upon him, unblinking, open, shut, perfect...

But Judas did not see it. He told himself,

‘The time for pruning has come!’

Pentecost - Excerpt from Fifth Gospel - A Novel.

‘And the Pentecost?’ I asked.

‘Well, pairé, as you know, on the tenth day after the Lord’s ascension, His disciples were assembled again at the cenacle to observe the ancient festival of Pentecost. The celebrations had lasted all night and it was near sunrise when a wind entered the city. This was that ancient wind called Ruach and it moved over the colossal bridge, sweeping through archways and forcing its way through the streets until it made a rise to the upper room where they were gathered.

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

‘This is the Holy Spirit!’ I said.

‘Yes, pairé, and the disciples had heard the roar of it before, on the night of their Lord’s sacrifice. When it entered the room it swept over the mother of the Lord, and she became a pillar of fire before their eyes; a fire whose cool flames swathed them in good will.

‘Yes Lea! This is like our consolamentum, this is the consoler!’

‘It came through the mother because it was her task to unite even those who were not kin by blood…this is the community of the future, pairé, which Christ Jesus had said Peter would lead.’

‘I remember now! How the water had tasted of wine at the marriage of Cana…yes…a marriage, where the husband and wife were not kin! I remember now what he said about the fish swimming together as one!’

‘You remember well, pairé, but do you know what it means? It means, that it does not matter what blood a man possesses, what nation or race he belongs to, if his soul has married the spirit, then he can unite with others who have done the same.’

I took a moment to understand it. ‘Why does the church of Peter not recognise this spirit of the Pentecost, then? Why do they persecute us because we have a reckoning of it?’

‘Because they fear it, pairé.’

‘Why do they  fear it?’

‘Because if all men believed they could come close to God without a priest or a church…they would fall into error.’

Yes…this was the same reason why the church of Rome would not allow the translation of the bible into the vernacular; why only priests could own a bible without incurring punishment.   

DO NOT TOUCH ME! - Excerpt from Fifth Gospel - A Novel.

DO NOT TOUCH ME!

I

N the early hours before day rise, the mother of the Lord and the other women went to the rock-hewn tomb in  Joseph’s garden, to see to the proper anointing of their master’s body. Magdalena was late in following, and she had not yet reached the garden when she was met by the mother and the others returning from the tomb. They told her that on arriving they had found the tomb open and empty. In and around the tomb, they had seen visions of angels who had said their lord was already risen, and that they must look for him among the living.

Magdalena full of concern, returned with the others to the cenacle to tell the men and found only Lazarus-John with Simon-Peter in the upper room.

Upon seeing them, Simon-Peter came directly to the Lord's Mother, to beg her forgiveness. He recounted how on the night of Passover he had fled the court of Caiaphas, and that afterwards he had denied his Lord three times for fear of his life. Because of this, full of shame, he had gone to Olivet, where he found a cave. In it he had slept fitfully, until awakened by an overwhelming effulgence – the brilliant form of his master illuminating the gloom of his cave! His master told him to go and tell the others what he had seen.  

The Mother of the Lord now recounted what the women had seen: angels, rolled away stones, and an empty grave. Full of wonder, the men resolved to see it for themselves and took themselves out of the city with Magdalena following in their train. 

By the time the three of them arrived at the tomb, a red-gold promise of sunrise lay on the margins of the horizon. Lazarus-John, carrying the lamp, was first through the low door of the sepulchre and he told them what he saw: a great gash in the earth, a deep cleft had opened up, and now the linen cloths were lying on one side of it, and the head napkin on the other.

Simon-Peter, having by now entered the sepulchre himself, confirmed that the grave was empty. There followed some discussion between them and not knowing what they should do, they left to find the other disciples.

Magdalena remained behind.

Alone, at the entrance to the sepulchre, a deep sense of loss beckoned tears from her eyes; her master was gone, his body was not found, and she did not know how he could return without it.  Not having seen the angels like the others, she wanted to know it for herself. She watched the sun rise over the hills and when it cast its benevolent rays on the mouth of the tomb, she braced herself and dared to look inside.

She gasped.

Lit up by the birthing light were two angels, one at the head of the great stone bier and the other at the foot of it.

Woman, why do you weep?

She harnessed her mind to answer. ‘Because they have taken away my Lord and I know not where they have taken him!’

Fearful, she turned to go, but there was a man standing before her, haloed by sun. She did not know him, but he seemed full of the power of bourgeoning and sprouting life –  as if he were a gardener, a planter, or a cultivator. To see him made her hope that he might know where her master’s body might be.

He took the words from out of the mouths of the angels,

‘Woman, why do you weep?’

‘Sir, if you have borne his body from here, tell me where you have laid it, and I will take him away.’

The man now called her by her old name, ‘Mary!’

The memory of her master’s words rose up into her thinking:

Unite with the bridegroom in the bridal chamber of your heart, and from this union will arise in you a knowledge of Who I Am!

Her eyes saw Him now! The youthful body of Jesus, in all its flawless fullness!

‘Master!’ She moved to go to him, but he forestalled her.

‘Touch me not, dear Magdalena, for it will pollute me, the mystery is not yet consumed. Christ must yet unite fully with me. Go, tell the others to wait, tell them not to be sorrowful, for I will soon come to them!’

Joyful and obedient, she ran all the way back to the cenacle.

Chapter cut from Fifth Gospel - A Novel - HOSANNA

HOSANNA

‘Behold thy king cometh unto thee; he is just and having salvation; lowly and riding upon an ass and upon a colt the foal of an ass.’

Zechariah 9:9

IT WAS ON Sunday, on an ass’s foal, that Christ Jesus came into the city of Jerusalem followed by those faithful to him. As he entered through the great gate of the city the crowds, having received tidings of his approach hastened to meet him and upon seeing him they were seized with ecstasy and began to throw palm fronds over the ground in imitation of those primitive rites of spring. He was to them a symbol of a king, the sun that rises out of the darkness of winter’s night; and also the symbol of a priest of the order of Melchizedek who has come to bestow his blessings on those who are gathered in the oldest sun-sanctuary of humanity - Mount Zion.

He knew their thoughts and understood that the frenzy in their souls would not last.

For three years he had held back his magnificence not wishing to prematurely dazzle human beings. But now his divine selfhood was consuming his very humanity and so it radiated outwards through his human body like a flame that burns brightly one last time before reducing the wood to ashes. Soon he would stand before them like a dying star, a powerless human being and he knew what they would do.

It was his destiny to pass calmly through this festival of merriment, meekly through the welcoming praise of Hosannas to show the world the way that leads from the powerless body to the resurrection of the spirit.

This morning he had instructed his disciples to go to Bethphage, which means the House of Figs, a hamlet situated on a rocky plateau on the other side of Olivet. He had requested that they find him a foal of an ass, the white colt upon which he now sat.  He had chosen this place because in Bethphage the old initiatory practice of ‘Sitting Beneath the Fig Tree’ was still cultivated and it was here that these animals were held sacred. They were held sacred because Balaam, the old prophet, had also sat upon an ass. But the ecstatic visions that Balaam had achieved through the state of soul bound to the body, the ass, were no longer appropriate. He wanted to show his disciples how the Fig Tree was barren, that the old initiation must give way for what he would bring and so he had pointed out to them the Fig tree with many leaves and no fruit. He wanted to show the people that the time of ‘riding of the ass’ was over, for a new awakening was upon them, so on this day, when the old sun still shone in the heavens, he used a symbol the people recognised from the past but he showed them how he would use it in the way of the future.

He looked about him now to his disciples. They were revelling in the royal acclamations; laughing and smiling to see so many happy and ecstatic faces - all except Lazarus-John. Tomorrow Christ Jesus would curse the Fig Tree and in the coming days they would come to observe how fruitless were these Hosannas and how temporary and superficial were these cries of Blessed be he that cometh in the name of the Lord! For he knew these Hosannas would prove not a blessing but a curse; they were poisoned fruit; an echo of the ancient and archaic language sung by jubilant crowds on Mount Zion soon to be traded for angry calls on that other mount, the arid place where lived the old moon religion of Jehova, Mount Moriah, where was situated the Temple of Solomon. For tomorrow he would enter the temple and cleanse it one last time of those nefarious intruders who, under the guise of priesthood, tainted his Father’s house with the traffic of money. One last time he would show them the power of his spirit before the great battle with the Pharisees and Scribes, which he knew would come. Then at last would the Fig Tree wilt and wither away and the people would realise that he had not come to bring back the old mysteries - to breathe new life into an old corpse - but to show them the seed to something new – something they could plant in the soil of their hearts for later times.

This realisation would eventually nail him to the cross. 

And with sorrow in his heart among the excitable sounds of the jubilant, fickle populace, he wept for Jerusalem. He wept for its people and he prayed to his Lord on their behalf.

Chapter Cut from Fifth Gospel - A Novel - TEMPLE SLEEP

TEMPLE SLEEP

‘And the youth looked at him and loved him.’

The secret Gospel according to Mark

To Lazarus Christ Jesus said, ‘Soon you will pass into spiritual worlds, and your sister shall prepare you for your burial, she will sit with you and hold you in her heart, for she shall be the guardian of your soul until I return…Have faith Magdalena,’ he said to her, ‘support your brother as you support me…for in every death there is a rebirth…Wait for my call, then shall you see the last sign before the Son of Man begins his journey to his death. In your brother shall be resurrected what lives in me, the eternal Word, the light and the life that comes from those heavenly spheres from which I have come to earth. He shall be the first to see the Kingdom in all its fullness on earth, for his illness is not unto death, but to the glory of God, to the revelation of the eternal Word.’ Now to Lazarus he said, ‘Through this initiation, you shall venture into spirit worlds and you will become another man, you shall have another name and they shall call you John the beloved disciple of Jesus. It is true that every birth is accompanied by an illness, the illness of the mother. But this illness does not lead to death, but to new life.’

Lazarus was amazed by these words but his eyes were heavy laden and his heart seemed to falter. At this point he heard his sister Martha hurrying into the booth. ‘Lord,’ she said, ‘do you not care that my sister has left me to serve you alone? Please tell her to come and help me!’

Mary answered, ‘Martha, sit with us…the master is speaking of eternal truths.’

But Martha’s voice, very far away now, came into his mind, irritated and unhappy, ‘There is so much work to do! I should also like to sit and to listen to eternal truths, but who shall feed the master, then?’

‘Martha, Martha,’ came his master’s gentle words, ‘you are careful and troubled about the food, which is your task for you must care for my physical well-being; in you lives what is active. But one other thing is also needful - Mary listens to my words because she has a task that is different from yours, she cares for my soul, what lives in her is contemplative…and as you have chosen, so too has she chosen what is suited for her part…and this shall not be taken away from her.’

Lazarus heard his sister’s voice say, ‘Yes, my lord,’ and after that her footsteps in the courtyard.

Christ Jesus continued with his teaching and as his words were spoken Lazarus felt his body at peace, its turmoil stilled. The world too seemed quiet, the sea, and air and the very heavens came to rest and among this harmony did his acquiescent soul lift up from him.

And he fell out of his head.

                        

               Lazarus sees himself stripped of all earthly pretensions standing beside his master in the temple of Jerusalem, before the Pharisees.

          ‘Verily, verily,’ Christ says, and it is as if Lazarus himself were saying it, and it seems not strange at all but the most simple thing, for he feels as if he is one with Christ. ‘I say unto you, if a man keep my saying, he shall never see death…’

The Pharisees answer, ‘Are you greater than our father Abraham which is dead, and the prophets which are dead? Who makes you so great?’

Christ tells them, ‘If I honour myself, my honour means nothing: it is my father who honours me, of whom you say that he is your God…but you do not know him! I know him! And if I were to say that I do not know him to please you, then I would be a liar, like you. I know him and I keep his word, you only speak of Abraham. Abraham himself rejoiced to see my day; and he saw it and was glad.’

‘You are not yet fifty years old, how can a man so young have entered so deep and risen so high as to have seen the father Abraham in the blood of his generations?’

‘I am not an initiate. I am the initiator, and yea more than that, I am the subject of initiation itself! I am the foundation of the very world! I am not only one with Abraham, but with what pulses in the entire cosmos, I was before Abraham was. Before Abraham was, existed the one who is I AM and I AM He.’

The people grow angry. They take up stones to cast at him and he has to flee. There are hindrances all around. He feels pain as stones strike him but they are not stones, it is that his soul is being wrenched from the temple, the grave of his body.

He realises that Christ is the door and that through Him he can enter a higher sphere, a glorious mountain.

From the outspread widths of space comes to him an angel, the self of his great teacher, John the Baptist, whose words had so often warmed his heart. His mighty cosmic form seems to Lazarus like Adam and he blesses him with his greatest gift – the gift of his own spirit. Lazarus feels it enter into his emptied soul.

I am John!

Now in the upper airs the moon’s snow face cuts the night’s skirt, and is stirred by delicate green whirlwinds that move from star to star inscribing in astral light grand pictures for his seeing.  He rises higher through the agency of another angel, upwards to a sea the colour of peach blossom that stretches out to distant purpling plains and resounds in glorious songs. This angel points to the father of his people. 

Abraham!

He is one with Abraham. his ancestor.

A light rises over the horizon of this unpolluted, immeasurable landscape. A sun, suspended, luminous, diaphanous. incandescent and transparent all at once permeates the heaven-opened world from all sides like the rays of a dawn sun. These throw their luminance upwards to the hems of a lowering cloud making it gleam all gold.

The Sun is the light and life and love of the world and it is born now in me!

I am a Son of Man!

I am one with Christ who is the light of the world.

From those mighty cosmic reaches, come the resounding words,

‘Lazarus…come forth!’

And Lazarus tells himself, 

‘Now do I truly recognise without hindrance what lives in the soul of Jesus…Him who has awakened me - the sublime being of Christ!’