Salt to the earth
The scripture says: “On that day men will throw to the moles and the bats the idols of silver and gold which they made for worship. They go into caverns in the rocks and into crevices in the cliffs, from the terror of the Lord and the splendor of his majesty when he arises to overawe the earth (Isaiah 2:20-21).”
I was once against the worship before graven images or what Catholics refer to as Holy Images. But my understanding was opened. Before as the early Christian doctrines say, there was no image or picture in the Church. But priests and theologians have this problem of how to educate the people. A little later, there was the cross but no figure of Man crucified.
I am not distracted by the image of Jesus fastened on the crosses. Very much later I have reconciled myself to the crucifix, though I don’t want to wear it as if an amulet. The power of God in my heart is more than enough. He taught me how to be humble though strange was my feeling how I am to bear this man that I am.
I’m not a double of Christ nor am I a replica of his humanity associating myself with the word I am as in “I am the man”. It does not say that I be God benefiting from what results to my experience of yoga. That acclamation would make me a Devil. I cannot repeat what Lucifer had done.
I step firm on the ground but do not deny that at times, I seem to walk alighting on air. When my aura shines, no one can look at me straight to the eyes in longer seconds. In fact I look at up to five persons without twinkle. But I’m relaxed now, as I have the smile, I capture men and women, boys and girls alike through the eyes that make them also smile back at me.
I try to be firm on the ground, accepting fully the fullness of my humanity and human to fix to myself that I am a man, low in nature and must submit to God. Though my lips have the lust at times, I only want to steal my male friends’ heart. I want to give them inner joy and be remembered by them. I could not live without company in Brotherhood. They are to me, my all! Hence, I count them as friends. As it is prophesied, I too receive scars all over me that my wounds would not much differ from the bruises of Jesus, he being beautiful with his scars.
But it is not well with these people who do not understand me. They stabbed me on the back to add to my cross multiplying my oppression. They insulted me and they chastised me. I can’t do but accept and ignore. They think I am mad or worse psychotic! They have no pity on me suffering from insomnia because my chakras erupted as my kundalini rose up. They treat me as nothing. They desecrated my person. Being still bitter at the progress of this writing made me realize that I am ignorant of wisdom until now.
Perhaps when the time comes that I’ve fully accepted the things that happened in my life and learned to forget these and forgive those who continue to offend me, only then that the wound would heal. But how can I forget if I’m continually reminded through the lashes of the tongues from people who rarely know me and likewise fail to give me a chance to live my life peacefully, free from the scrutiny of these people who cling to what happened in the past and are blind to the good things I’ve done and the healing I’ve obtained.
Anyway, they still remained as those I love and shall not forget. They are my babies that mothers won’t forget. I have carved them in the palm of my hand. I take them to my heart and embrace them, though I’m holding nothing but air. This is perhaps why I had been friendlier with men.
I created a new big seminary out of the world, all men and little women. The group I created composes of more boys and some girls. With the manifestations that the Father has permitted to happen to me, I wrote for their love letters, which they send to the girls they love and wanted to be their girlfriends. I’ve been blamed for early marriages or pregnancy as early as third year high school.
Is it my fault to have much love in my heart, since I count them as my little ones? I’m afraid they feel that I’m responsible for their sons and daughters’ early marriages. These people are the flock that Jesus has given for me to watch after, but what had I done? I led them to early relationships. I ask forgiveness from the parents for teaching the young to express themselves.
I only wanted to share my love and talent by teaching them how to make love letters and write poems. They learned from me or they received poems I made at random. I bought stationeries in bundles and let them fall in line doing what they want from me. And I even gave my heart, soul and spirit, that I may not be different from the stars that form the constellation.
So I’m not only scarred but likewise I accept I’m also dirty. I have hands not made of gold but wet with blood. Yet, I become like that of the tax collector before the Pharisee, accepting my sins and in both knees plead for mercy to my God. And he took me to His arms, as he was a Samaritan man. Likewise, he cured my disease and, he became my healer casting out the demons from my body.
As a result, I was set free though with feet still firm on the ground and never did sin gravely again making my heart a vessel of peace and acceptance. I did rise after my fall yet dwelt still with sinners that I might win them unto holiness. Though I strike as of a double-edged sword with the Word, I readily hugged them to my breast though in imagination, and never left them.
Yet, I remain fully human in a different identity with God aware that in as much as I try to depart from sin, I’m yet tempted to the lure of the flesh. But God knows how to handle my temptations with me overcoming these. He protects me with a helmet of salvation. He shields me from further pain and makes his cross as a barricade against forces of evil.
I never did live empty anymore but continue to hunger that I may sip the endless body of water in the ocean of love and affirmations.
-Jyotisman Nearu Upendra
