Read The Golden Legend Page 12


  It was time for new life. The consecration of the new candles was next on the liturgical calendar. The monks brought the new white candles from the monastery to the church next morning. The celebration of Mary’s Light Mass was lasted the whole morning. The seven altar candles symbolized the seven spirits of God. The pure wax, extracted by bees, symbolized the pure flesh of Christ received from his virgin mother. The wick signified the soul of Christ and the flame his dignity. Special candles were crafted for the Easter and Christmas festivities. The candles for Good Friday were yellow. Candles were frequently used after Saint Michael’s Day in September when the sunlight was fading away, until Mary’s Light Mass when days became longer and the tradesmen could work in sunlight again.

  The Lady of the Mountains was also involved in the making of the candles. She also decorated the church with flowers inviting the soul on a mysterious journey through the spiritual world. Tree branches and bark invited the senses into the spiritual world to find an epiphany. An epiphany occurred when the soul found God. But what was the soul? Was it not the inner most sacred organ which connects us with God. It was a feeling from a tragic event which happened in a world which had passed a long time ago and perceived in a moment of spiritual enlightenment. The soul was erring through the desert like a little elephant which had lost its mother, to find a source of water to quench its thirst.

  Rain and sunshine followed quickly. The melancholy of winter was fading away and spring walked into the seasons dressed as a beautiful woman in white walking over the rainbows spanning over the Rhone River. Spring was above and winter below the rainbow.

  The coming of spring transcended the celebration of Mary’s Light Mass in the highest heaven. The church became a powerhouse of visions born in the depth of the human soul. The church became a mystical flower blossoming in the scent of seasonal plants. The Bible turned into a field of flowers and the believers into bees feeding from the spiritual nectar opening the doors to the New Jerusalem. People met with the supernatural world of God when gathering around the candles to pray. Every prayer became a new spiritual experience and a journey into the mystic of the soul.

  It was dark outside. Winter fought with all its might to conquer the seasons. A solemn silence filled the church, a silence born in the deep womb of winter. Thoughts fell like snowflakes from heaven opening the doors of reflection and revelation. The winter had created feelings dreaming in the womb of the unconscious mind. The feelings emerged from the soul like vessels sailing into the ocean to an unknown world to find an island. Memories were colonizing the ocean like islands to escape when a storm erupted.

  Snowflakes melted in the palm of our hand. Reality is fading away to become visions in the kingdom of God.

  Brother George lit the seven candles on the altar symbolizing the seven spirits of God saying:

  “Praise the Lord, all nations!

  Extol him, all peoples

  For great is his love for us!

  And the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever!

  Praise God in the highest!”

  Steve and Benedict walked in front of the altar with silver colored smoking incense holders. Brother George consecrated the candles with holy water from Mount Mary.

  The faithful walked to Brother George who was holding the cross in his left hand, sprinkling water on the candles with his right hand.

  Verena and Catherine lit the old candles and gave them to the orphans. The congregation followed little Catherine and Marc to the Rhone. The orphans put the candles on a piece of bark illuminating the darkness. The river banks appeared like shadows of dreams sinking in an unknown world. The monastery of Saint Michael on the Mountain of the Angels appeared in the streaming lights. The monastery of Saint Mary rose like a sacred mountain in the sky. The river symbolized life and the candles the soul flowing into the sea of love.

  The company of Mary walked back to the church of Saint Peter looking like a holy shrine from the distance.

  “I am the bread of life,” said Brother Benedict., taking a host from the golden cup. “He who comes to me will never get hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty. Your forefathers ate this bread and yet they died. But here comes the bread from heaven, which a man may eat and not die. I am the living bread and I feed the living bread that comes down from heaven. If anyone eats from this bread, he will live forever.”

  After the celebration of the Holy Eucharist, the company of Mary went into the church kitchen. Brother Benedict and Verena were cooking pancakes.

  “The Holy Manna John 6,” said Brother Thomas raising his nose into the air.

  “Correct Brother Thomas,” said Brother Benedict pouring the pan cake mixture into the hot pan. Everyone gathering in the kitchen watched the pan. Brother Benedict was moving the pan on the fire herd. If he could flip the pancake in the air so that it landed in the middle of the pan, the village of Saint Peter would not go hungry during the year. There was a lot of expectation on him and Verena. Both of them were still tired since they had prayed through the whole night. They reaped a big applause when the pancakes landed right in the middle of the pan. The pancakes were served with honey and marmalade made from cherries, strawberries, prunes and apples. The dining room was full of hungry people. Brother Martin and Leo ate half a dozen pancakes, but Jack beat them all and ate eight. Steve and Catherine helped to prepare the pancake mixture. Steve tried to flip a pancake too. The people encouraged him and yelled as he tossed the pancake in the air. The pancake flew high in the air whilst Steve moved the pan nervously underneath. The pancake fell on the edge of the pan and was about to fall on the ground but Steve quickly tilted the pan to the side. The pancake landed in the middle of the plate and the people applauded.

  The Season of Pilgrimage

  The season of the pilgrimages to the shrines in the mountains was approaching with the warming of the sun. Spirits left the Bible like butterflies carrying the themes of the Bible through nature. The themes flowed like thousands of rivers from mystical mountains. The word had become spirit and lived on the meadows and in the trees. The visions pouring from the Bible became musical instruments inviting the soul on spiritual journeys beyond the rainbow. Heaven opened over the mountains and the Holy Spirit descended on the pilgrims. The church was the place of individual experiences with God.

  Saint Peter was celebrating the arrival of spring. The melodies of the birds singing on blossoming cherry trees rolled like a waves over the green meadows and valleys. Spring glided through the season, waking up nature from its winter sleep. The seeds of winter resting in the womb of the seasons grew in the spring sun and became visions decorating the tree of life. The visions were building ideas into people’s minds of things to do during the year.

  The celebration of Annunciation where the angel Gabriel had told Mary that she was going to give birth to Jesus Christ was fast approaching.

  The celebration of Saint Joseph, Mary’s husband and Jesus’ father, preceded the Annunciation. Many members of the congregation, particularly males, considered it quite offensive that Mary took such an esteemed role in the minds of people whereas Joseph was barely mentioned. And yet Joseph was the perfect father. He was loyal, steadfast, strong, wise, intelligent, kind, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind and good. So why was there no mountain named after him? Joseph climbed the highest mountains for his family! He was visited by an angel of God to tell him to take Mary as his wife and name his first son Jesus. He obeyed and married Mary even though he was not the father of Jesus. He loved Jesus like his own son. He took his family from Nazareth to Bethlehem to be enrolled as Roman citizens. An angel of God told Saint Joseph in Bethlehem about Herod’s plan to kill Jesus so he took his family to Egypt. An angel told him when Herod died so he could take his family back to Jerusalem. He took Jesus to the temple at Passover celebrating the liberation of the Israelites from Egyptian enslavement.

  A season for Love

  Saint Joseph was not outstanding. He was humble, a servant, who put the in
terests of other people before his own. He was a role model for all husbands. Jack was one of the strongest advocates of Saint Joseph. Many could not understand the reason as Jack seemed to have a completely different attitude. And yet both of them adopted a son who was not their natural child.

  People became suspicious about Jack’s behavior. He used to hang out with his bachelor friends celebrating all night long at the river. There was music and a lot of fun. People said that they could see the trout dancing on the river in the wild summer nights. All that was buried in the past. Jack had changed and even his friend noticed that he would rather stay at home than going to the river fishing.

  The warm southerly wind took the souls on its wings to spiritual journeys. A pilgrimage was a Holy Day to gain everlasting spiritual experiences reflecting in the soul for years to come. Shrines were built at the most beautiful places close to the kingdom of God. The Bible became alive and turned into powerful images of the soul opening the door to a spiritual world lying in the depths of our dreams. The seasons were blending together. Time stood still and the Bible appeared in a new dimension, in another time, the past future, where visions were made. Jesus was walking with his disciples over the pastures and visited the people. These visitations became the essence of people’s lives. They kept the spiritual experiences like personal gifts from God.

  The farmers were particularly happy about the awakening of spring inviting them to go on the fields.

  Jack had not felt so free in his whole life. He had attracted the attention of Margaret, a young woman from Saint Andrew. She came to Saint Peter to visit her auntie. She went to church yesterday. The world stood still when their eyes met. This moment of sweet delight stuck in Jack’s head. He was walking through the dewy forest and over the blossoming fields carrying this moment in his heart. He saw Mary in the mild spring sunshine wearing beautiful clothes. But then he felt close to Jesus Christ. He danced over the fields like a little boy. He ran behind a butterfly that flew from one flower to another. He pulled out a flower and his sorrows disappeared in the sweet smell. Nature was forgiving. If a farmer did not have a good crop one year he would get a chance in the next year. A farmer would get it right eventually; he just had to be diligent.

  A new life was beginning today. He was living in the sky today like the birds. Deep below was the earth with all its problems. Symphonies of colors were taking his senses higher and higher and exploding in his body releasing waves of joyful feelings. He felt as if a butterfly was tickling his feet with its wings. He followed the butterfly over the green fields. But then the butterfly disappeared in the mountain of death. Jack followed it through the Underworld. His heart was full of sadness and tears were in his eyes. He laughed and cried. He sat down and touched the ground. He grabbed a clot of earth and squeezed it until it crumbled between his fingers, leaving fine grains of earth in his hand. He threw the earth in the air. A light spring breeze carried the dust over the field into the light spring morning.

  “I love you, my angel, I love you my angel!” he muttered.

  The words of his lover sounded like a voice in heaven.

  “Margaret loves me! Somebody loves me,” he exclaimed. He followed Margaret’s soul through heaven and hell.

  Jack could see everything this morning but not the dragon which had left the mountains in the North and was sitting in the crown of a tree observing all his movements.

  Jack saw the grain swaying in the summer wind and the bread on the tables of the families. Many people said that he made the best cheese in the whole region. Melted cheese on hot potatoes was the favorite meal for many people.

  The cows could soon be put out to pasture again, eating all the herbs and flowers growing in the fields. Jack had built a shed for the cows and fed them hay during winter. He was thinking about the soups made out of his potatoes, barley, tomatoes, leek, carrots, cabbage, beans, onions and other vegetables. He could see his tasty food on the family table filling the hungry stomachs of the children. He was so busy turning the soil to make it soft for the spring crop that he did not see Brother Leo arriving.

  Jack often helped Brother Leo with his herb garden and made sure that the soil was rich to produce healthy herbs. Brother Leo was very successful with his herbs fighting off all sorts of diseases. He tried to prevent diseases. Once a person was sick it was so much harder to treat. He was always busy experimenting with his herbs. Brother Leo told Jack that he was often inspired by God to find the right medicine for a sick person.

  He told Jack about one of the epiphany he had received when he had not feeling well a few years back. He had dreamt of his mother cooking something. He had not understood what God wanted to teach him in this dream first. Then he had another dream of his mother. This time he had seen her rubbing garlic on the pan to make a cheese dish. He had smelled the garlic frying in the pan and came to the conclusion that God wanted him to use garlic as a medicine. He had only such strong dreams when God taught him something. Brother Leo had asked Jack to grow more garlic for the people of Saint Peter to keep them healthy all year round. Since the introduction of the garlic in the menu the amount of people getting sick in winter had dropped considerably. Brother Leo was also an expert on herbal teas. He had been studying herbal plants when he was living in the monastery.

  Brother Benedict was also inspired by the awakening of spring. One afternoon, when there was not much to do in the orphanage, he took Verena by the hand and said,

  “I will take you on a river cruise.’’

  He walked with Verena in the splendid spring morning. They strolled along the green meadows at the river bank. An old spruce stood in the middle of the meadow. The tree was at least four thousand years old and had seen many emperors coming and going. The spruce invited everybody to rest and to listen to the past and future, as time melted.

  “Watch out where you are walking or you will fall in the water!” said Sister Verena redirecting Brother Benedict who was very tired from the work in the orphanage.

  A wooden pier with planks lined up like the skeleton of a big, long snake went straight through the reeds, bending gently in the mild spring wind. Brother Benedict heard a voice. He turned around but could only see the spruce at the river. A memory of a summer night celebrating with friends in the forest rose in his minds.

  A boat had been pulled up halfway onto the sand of the river bank. He took Verena’s hand and guided her into the boat. Then he jumped in. His feet landed on the wooden floor with a big clunk. He moved slowly not to rock the boat. He stuck the rudder in the muddy ground of the river bank, leaned his whole body weight against the rudder and pushed the boat into the open river. The boat drifted downstream. The waves of the river moved the boat up and down in a steady rhythm. Brother Benedict thought that he could hear the river’s heart beating.

  He sat in the boat opposite to Verena holding the rudders in both hands and steering the boat over the waves. Verena stuck her right hand in the water. Her eyes were closed as she felt the water streaming along her fingers. She smiled and opened her eyes as if she had woken up from a beautiful dream.

  He could see a rose growing in the desert of Egypt in her mystical brown eyes. God lived in the desert. The solitude helped people to find peace Brother Benedict thought whilst steering the boat into calmer water. There was no distraction in the desert and the individual could find the inner truth. The aim of every eremite monk was to find the mystery of Jesus Christ within his soul. That was the reason why Saint Anthony the Great had been living in the desert. He travelled to the End of Times to find holiness in his heart. Verena on the other hand found holiness in the hearts of the orphans. She worked for the children day and night. She lived Brother Benedict’s motto of serving one another. Brother Benedict watched Verena. Her smile was mysterious like the moonshine reflecting on the river in a summer night. He had seen her smiling when she tried to comfort a boy who had hurt himself. Her smile was like medicine healing the deepest wound of the soul. The mysterious East was melti
ng together with the pragmatic West in her smile. The beautiful cities of Constantinople and Rome were melting together in her heart and a new even more beautiful city was emerging. Her smile could be melancholic like the sun diving in the purple sky in the evening. She carried the sun in her heart. Benedict was attracted to this sun he wanted to follow to the end of the world. Why spent endless time in the desert when he could find the mystery in Verena. Brother Benedict wanted to take her in his arms. But if he touched her the mysterious veil between them would break. Verena was not a human being. She was a reflection of God. Her heart belonged to the children in the orphanage. She was a mother, the mother of all the unwanted children.

  Steve sat on the hill overlooking Saint Peter. He was on the top of the world. It was his favorite spot and he had spent a lot of time here. He lit fires in winter and roasted the chestnuts from an old chestnut tree on the hill.

  Catherine was supposed to arrive any minute and he was very excited. His feelings were reflected in the beautiful spring day. It was as if God wanted to pour his love on the world. He could not get enough of the warm sunshine filling him with so much joy. He wished that the day would never stop.

  He always had a tense feeling in his heart when he met Catherine. The world was spinning around. He could see his life unraveled in front of his eyes. He tried to catch the contours in the mist but they did not reveal themselves to his eyes. All he wanted was to share his life with Catherine and to live for the affection God had in his heart. Catherine had the key to open the mystical doors of heaven. His feelings towards Catherine were so strong he could barely breathe. He heard a voice from the sea of love deep in his heart.

  A breeze carried the smell of the blossoming spring flowers over the green meadow. Steve looked down on the church of Saint Peter. Big pine trees stood in front of the church. He had seen the church in all seasons wearing the cloth of the liturgical year. The church was a mystical body changing its appearance constantly. It was a vessel sailing with the Holy Spirit through the sea of love. He saw all the icons depicting episodes in the Bible and he could hear the voice of the church. The church appeared to him like a Bible which had been thrown into the sea and washed to the shores. It lay on the beach. The wind flicked through the pages revealing the mysteries of revelation.