Archiwum
- Index
- Benford, Gregory Galactic Center 3 Great Sky River
- Noc listopadowa Wyspianski
- As You Like It [William Shakespeare]
- Jack Vance The Gray Prince
- Dunsany Lord Córka króla Elfów
- Zelazny, Roger The Second Chronicles of Amber 04 Knight of Shadows
- Charmed 07 Zirkuszauber Frauke Meier
- Christie Agatha Spotkanie w Bagdadzie
- Krauss Lawrence M. Fizyka podróśźy mić™dzygwiezdnych
- Cass
- zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- aeie.pev.pl
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The sound of our footsteps echoed from the stone walls. At the entrance to the
church, I instinctively dipped my hand in the font of holy water and made the
sign of the cross. I recalled that water was the symbol of the Goddess.
"Let's go in," he suggested.
We walked through the dark, empty building. Saint Savin, a hermit who had lived
at the start of the first millennium, was buried below the main altar. The walls
of the place were crumbling and had clearly been reconstructed several times.
Some places are like that: they can suffer through wars, persecutions, and
indifference, but they still remain sacred. Finally someone comes along, senses
that something is missing, and rebuilds them.
I noticed an image of the crucified Christ that gave me a funny feeling I had
the impression that his head was moving, following me.
"Let's stop here."
We were before an altar of Our Lady.
"Look at the image."
Mary, with her son in her lap. The infant Jesus pointing to the heavens.
"Look more carefully," he said.
I studied the details of the wooden carving: the gilt paint, the pedestal, the
perfection with which the artist had traced the folds of the robe. But it was
when I focused on the finger of the child Jesus that I understood what he meant.
Although Mary held him in her arms, it was Jesus who was supporting her. The
child's arm, raised to the sky, appeared to be lifting the Virgin toward heaven,
back to the place of Her Groom's abode.
"The artist who created this more than six hundred years ago knew what he wanted
to convey," he commented.
Footsteps sounded on the wooden floor. A woman entered and lit a candle in front
of the main altar.
We remained silent for a while, respecting her moment of prayer.
Love never comes just a little at a time, I thought, as I watched him, absorbed
in contemplation of the Virgin. The previous day, the world had made sense, even
without love's presence. But now we needed each other in order to see the true
brilliance of things.
When the woman had gone, he spoke again. "The artist knew the Great Mother, the
Goddess, and the sympathetic face of God. You've asked me a question that up
until now I haven't been able to answer directly. It was 'Where did you learn
all this?'"
Yes, I had asked him that, and he had already answered me. But I didn't say so.
"Well, I learned in the same way that this artist did: I accepted love from on
high. I allowed myself to be guided," he went on. "You must remember the letter
I wrote you, when I spoke of wanting to enter a monastery. I never told you, but
I did in fact do that."
I immediately remembered the conversation we'd had before the conference in
Bilbao. My heart began to beat faster, and I tried to fix my gaze on the Virgin.
She was smiling.
It can't be, I thought. You entered and then you left. Phase, tell me that you
left the monastery.
"I had already lived some pretty wild years," he said, not guessing my thoughts
this time. "I got to see other peoples and other lands. I had already looked for
God in the four corners of the earth. I had fallen in love with other women and
worked in a number of different jobs."
Another stab. I would have to be careful that the Other didn't return. I kept my
gaze on the Virgin's smile.
"The mysteries of life fascinated me, and I wanted to understand them better. I
looked for signs that would tell me that someone knew something. I went to India
and to Egypt. I sat with masters of magic and of meditation. And finally I
discovered what I was looking for: that truth resides where there is faith."
Truth resides where there is faith! I looked around again at the interior of the
church the worn stones, fallen and replaced so many times. What had made human
beings so insistent? What had caused them to work so hard at rebuilding this
small temple in such a remote spot, hidden in the mountains?
Faith.
"The Buddhists were right, the Hindus were right, the Muslims were right, and so
were the Jews. Whenever someone follows the path to faith sincerely follows
it he or she is able to unite with God and to perform miracles.
"But it wasn't enough simply to know thatyou have to make a choice. I chose the
Catholic Church because I was raised in it, and my childhood had been
impregnated with its mysteries. If I had been born Jewish, I would have chosen
Judaism. God is the same, even though He has a thousand names; it is up to us to
select a name for Him."
Once again, steps sounded in the church.
A man approached and stared at us.Then he turned to the center altar and reached
for the two candelabra. He must have been the one responsible for guarding the
church.
I remembered the watchman at the other chapel, the man who wouldn't allow us to
enter. But this man said nothing.
"I have a meeting tonight," he said when the man left.
"Please, go on with what you were saying. Don't change the subject."
"I entered a monastery close to here. For four years, I studied everything I
could. During that time, I made contact with the Clarifieds and the
Charismatics, the sects that have been trying to open doors that have been
closed for so long to certain spiritual experiences. I discovered that God was
not the ogre that had frightened me as a child. There was a movement afoot for a
return to the original innocence of Christianity."
"You mean that after two thousand years, they finally understood that it was
time to allow Jesus to become a part of the church?" I said with some sarcasm.
"You may think you're joking, but that was exactly it. I began to study with one
of the superiors at the monastery. He taught me that we have to accept the fire
of revelation, the Holy Spirit."
The Virgin continued to smile, and the infant Jesus kept his joyful expression,
but my heart stopped when he said that. I too had believed in that once but
time, age, and the feeling that I was a logical and practical person had
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