Theosis

It was during a game of pin the donkey.

Spinning this way and that, then "Stop!"

I was unable to see and feeling light headed.

"And that is why we don't put the tail where the head should go; and don't put the head where the tail should go!"

I laughed histerically.

He chuckled too.

Then paused abruptly,

"No but seriously...

What if every time you defiled your temple,
the Holy Spirit felt a sharp burn, like a splash of boiling oil or an excruciating jab to the core?"

My blindfold slipped from my head.

There was Jesus' serious face dripping crimson. The javelin in my bloody hands

"She is no respector of persons Rayan." His cheek wore a blob of human guile, hanging like a drop of sizzling acid.

I asked in trepidation, "Do you mean 'eye for eye and tooth for tooth'?"

"Have you not heard? Blasphemy against the Father and against the Son will be forgiven you...

"Oh yes," I recalled the verse, "but blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven."

"That's right," he said, the thick dusk dew of death painting his teeth. "It's a binary code."

My arms felt weak. "Binary?" The javelin quivering in my knuckles' grip.

"Either you are in love Rayan, or you are out of love."

"But I love."

"Do you?"

My legs dropped with my heart. "No," I wept.

"What right have you to recite my laws or take my covenant on your lips? You hate my instruction and cast my words behind you."

His ribs seemed to appear the more I released my sigh, as if we shared the same lungs.

My Roman breastplate looked dull and corroded; my leather skirt like thin peeling vinyl. It may as well had been a party costume.

"I only imitate love. I... I just can't be the Artist that you are," I confessed. "I'm a fake who merely plagiarizes what I think you're doing, and even then it looks so cheap."

"Do you consider yourself a safe person?"

"I don't know, Lord. I want to be safe, but I know I can be dangerous."

"Do you want to receive your reward?"

"No Lord, please no! I'm not ready."

"But you have hurt the Spirit."

"Yes. I have."

Then I heard Her voice coming from within, "These things you have done and I kept silent; you thought I was altogether like you. But I will rebuke you and accuse you to your face."

"Then do what's right. Reap what you have sown," said the Lord.

"I can't." My body collapsing with an added weight, as I clung to my long spear.

"It's ok."

My eyes turned to the ground. "No, it's not. If I don't pay the price you're going to leave me!"

"Yes."

"And what if it's for nothing? What if I blaspheme the Holy Spirit again?"

"That's why we're here. Know oh son of Adam, I shed this blood for you."

"I don't understand?"

"She doesn't like your flesh."

"I know; neither do I."

"So it has to be changed. You see?
You still have a choice. The crown or me?"

"I can't Lord. I am unworthy, and can't tolerate the pain."

"What you say is true."

"So, what can I do to be saved?"

"Eat me."

"Forbid that I should do such a thing!"

"Look at me," he said sternly.

I looked up and into his transcendant eyes.

"I have tasted your sin. It tastes like shit! But I can take it, as I am able to recreate."

Ashamed, I sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"I know. But Rayan, the pain suffered by the Spirit is different. She can't recreate, only fill."

"I don't understand."

"We made you to be filled by Her energies. But they can't share space with your sin. It sticks out like thorns of glass and steel blades along the lining of your walls."

"Oh, ...Really?" I let that sink in. Then I muttered to myself, "The Spirit looks for a place to rest," as I recalled something I'd read in the Library.

"Yes. That is where I come in, to eliminate those hostile elements."

"I see..."

"Can you love Rayan?"

"You tell me Lord."

"No, you can't. But my love can enter. The son of Joseph can refurbish your temple."

"I am ashamed to do it."

"Have I been ashamed to wear your naked flesh?"

"No."

"Then do it, quickly! Eat me, that our flesh might be one. Then the Spirit will dwell among us, and we will be called 'Emanuel'."

I reluctantly plucked a small sliver of dangling flesh.

"I am the Bread of Life," He said.

And so I partook.

It tasted like honey.

"Now drink."

I looked at him confused.

His eyes directed me to my javelin spear and then to his side.

I remembered Moses, and could picture him striking the rock.

So I steadied my self and rose. I lifted my weapon, took in a dispassionate gasp of air, and shoved it in his side. Then blood and water flowed, and I drank.

It tasted like wine.

Then I fell unconscious briefly, reviving to find myself looking down from the cross.

But I wasn't in pain, just a little discomfort.

Feet in sandals were planted in front of me. I slowly lifted my head.

There was the Son of God in splendour.

"Follow me," he said as he turned around and started walking.

I looked to my right and saw there was no nail holding my hand. To my left it was the same.

I quickly wraped my arms behind the post sticking into my back so I wouldn't swing down with a thud and crack my bones.

My feet too were free; it was just a sensation but no nail.

And so I got down, and walked in Jesus' direction.

I tried to peel off the crown of thorns.

"Nuh-uh. You'll be wanting to keep that so you know my mind."

"So I have to wear this?"

"Yes."

I murmured to myself the words, "No servant is greater than his Master"

"You got it."

I felt like Monkey following Tripitaka.

Jesus read my mind and laughed.

"My strength is in you. You can handle the light burden. So stop slouching and stand like a king deserving of such a crown."

I adjusted my posture.

"Where are we going Master?

"To get you some clothes."

"Huh?" Sure enough I was naked. But having seen my Master naked, I didn't feel ashamed.

And as we came toward a golden cube he said, "When we get there, you shall enter in my name."

But a little way before we got there, Master began to morph, his white garment thickening into the wool... the fleece of a giant sheep.

I felt strange watching as he defecated beside a corner edge of the cube, as any sheep might do.

Yet, the faeces was not like dung but an oily pearl.

I asked in shock, "What did you do that for?"

"That was your sin. From this pod will one day grow one of my olive trees. Now you can enter."

I walked up to the entrance, but there was no handle or keyhole. So I spoke, "In the name of Yeshu'a, I come".

The door openned. I still felt unworthy, and shook like a leaf as I stepped cautiously through the tiny door.

But as soon as both feet were inside, I was amazed to hear bells around my ankles. So, I looked down and lho, I was dressed richly in the garb of a priest!

The light inside the golden booth was unusual, bright but a different hue I can't put into words.

It was coming from the centre of the room. Like nuclear fusion, three living lights zoomed in between each other at such great speed.

Then a voice said, "What is Our name?"

I took in a deep breath to gather my thoughts. What if I got this answer wrong?
Names ran through my mind...Elohim, Allah, God, Maha Deva, Zeus...did it matter which one? But there was one that echoed through my heart louder than all the others, and so I unsealed my lips,

"YaHovah."

And BOOM! The three powers split into a triumvirate. On an awesome bull decorated with stars around its neck sat one like a man but with the head of a majestic lion. He was clothed in rays of light. Perched on His shoulder was an eagle crowned with a crescent moon tiara. In His hand was a trident.

"Why are you here?"

"Your Grace sent for me."

In unison they spoke and I recalled the description in the prophets: "like the sound of rushing waters."

"We have a new obeid," they said with deep joy! At least I assume that was the word because I understood they meant both "child" and "servant".

Then they commissioned me to work, but I can't remember the end from the beginning, as before I left their presence the contents was sealed only to be brought to memory at the correct times.

But the last words they spoke were, "Now go!" Then the room lost its light and in their place, standing in the dimness coming from the doorway were three ordinary pillars.

Exiting, I felt fresh and totally rejuvenated. I was clothed in a pure, holy white garment.

The King has saved me and is saving me. No one can see my crown of thorns. But I still feel it's weight of JUSTICE. And every now and then, when I am at the height of worship, I feel a sensation like nails of HUMILITY too. But there is a third key that is most powerful of all. It is a word imprinted on my heart:

MERCY

And that mercy isn't for self-righteous Pharisees and Sadducees; it's a mercy for the oppressed!
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"There is a future for the man of peace. But the ransom for a life is costly."
(Psalm 37:37; 49:8)