Here is a 2nd Excerpt from YESHU! The passage below illustrates the powerful message in YESHU regarding the deep connection between nature and the human spirit. The main conveyor of this message is Yohanan (a.k.a. John the Baptist), Yeshus second cousin. Yohanan has come in out of his wilderness haven to lead Yeshu, who is still a village carpenter, Daavi, a young shepherd and leather worker (and the books narrator), plus several other friends, on a quest journey to the renowned cedars of Lebanon. Read on! Journey into the Wilderness We finally arrived at the great cedars of Lebanon just at sunset. We said our evening prayers and pitched camp beside a tiny brook. No one spoke. We were bone-tired from the daylong trek, and from the weeks of walking and working. Nonetheless, keen anticipation was bubbling up inside me, and from the looks of the others, inside them too. Our eyes were scanning the dark trunks up ahead as dusk spread its cloak over the forest, and we sought a way into the place we had imagined for so long. It seemed that each of us was gradually descending inside ourselves in the waning light, till soon it would no longer be clear just what was inside and what was out. Yohanan broke the spell by reminding us we had things to finish before the last of the daylight vanished. By the time the campsite and fire were ready, water boiling, it was too dark to enter the forest for a good look. We ate a few handfuls of dried berries, drank herbal tea to warm our insides, and crawled into our blankets. There was very little night talk that evening, and soon we were all asleep. When I awoke, it was still dark. In the cool air it sounded like the stars were singing, but I realized it was birds high in the cedars greeting the first light of dawn that had not yet reached us. Well, most of us. I could hear someone stirring and I sat up to see who it could be. Yohanan was kneeling on his blanket, sitting back on his heels, his hands together in his lap. He was praying along with the winged creatures invisible on their branches. Soon Yeshu turned over and sat up. Pushing his hair aside with the back of his hand, he rubbed his eyes and combed his tangled beard with his fingers. He looked over at Yohanan. Without first standing, Yeshu rolled to his knees. Gazing down at his hands and then up at the sky, he too began praying. I tossed aside my blanket and carefully crawled through the sleeping bodies to find a spot between Yohanan and Yeshu where I could join in. Imagine that. A former shepherd boy, now a sandal maker, becoming aware of his voice rising softly up on the words intoned by Yeshu and Yohanan. One by one, other members of the group awoke. We were joined by Maria Magdalena and Martha, then Joanna and the Thunder Brothers. Soon the sound of a small chorus wafted up, as most prayed on their blankets that were still warm from sleep. By the time the sun thrust over the horizon, the forest birds were in full throat and so were we. Soon, the chirping was muted, as the feathered scavengers went about their search for seeds and berries and tiny bugs. Eager to see and be touched by what we had traveled such a distance for, we all headed into the forest, following the first rays of morning sunlight through the giant trees. Walking slowly across the woodland floor, our group fell silent, allowing the hush of the forest to settle steadily into us like a gentle rain, centering our souls. Soon we were filled to the brim and everyone stood still. One after the other, we peered up and up at the soaring treetops that seemed to brush the newly blue sky with ancient fingertips. Yohanan was the first to sink to his knees. We all followed and remained for a long time kneeling in a loose circle on the soft needles. I was just behind Yohanan and Yeshu. They were side by side, their shoulders touching, their backs gently rising and falling as they breathed together. I wanted to jump up and hug them both, but dared not break the spell. Instead, I reached out and carefully took hold of a corner of each of their cloaks and held fast, as if I were in a chariot behind two powerful horses standing stock-still, waiting to carry me to glory. I looked around at the faces of the others. All of them were smiling, several with their mouths open. Eyes glistened. The only sound was that of our breathing. I cast my eyes about the great cedar forest for something to anchor my feelings. The gently rolling floor was covered with lacy ferns of every shade of green. The morning sun that streamed down over the delicate fronds as they swayed in an almost imperceptible breeze, cast a shifting kaleidoscope of shadow and light across them. I imagined that the sunlight and the moving air of the warming earth were being guided by an invisible hand that was inscribing our story on the scroll of the forest floor. Not in words, of course, but in the unique language of souls on fire, stoked by the power of rising chests and beating hearts. It felt so clear and yet the inscriptions vanished before the mind could read them. We all knelt there enveloped in profound stillness for a long, long while.
Posted on: Wed, 13 Nov 2013 22:22:20 +0000
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