The Spirit That Moves Mountains

Jeshua - Chapter 35

The funny thing about love is that some people aren't ready to accept it. Some run from it, while others try to slash it away like a sword cutting through sand. That is what my centurion brother was trying to do—cut through the pain of love. Cut through the confusion of the body he witnessed smiling back at him. But how to explain to someone why I experienced bliss instead of anticipated anguish and sorrow?

Instead, I gazed into the infuriated and flushed face of the centurion, Clavius. My eyes were in a constant state of softness and beaming power. My lips were held in the shape of a boat's bow, smiling only because that was the natural response my body had when experiencing love, peace, and joy all at once.

Each blow into my wrist was meant to elicit screams. But each blow was only heard but not felt.

The centurion drove the nail head into my left wrist. Blood flowed, as was expected. But only peaceful silence escaped my body.

He stomped over to my other wrist. He placed the rusting and semi-blunt nail end against my flesh and looked over at me again. Anger started to dissolve into confusion. "How do you not experience pain, Jew?"

"My brother, if you have a few hours, I will tell you." This was followed by not just a smile but a true grin.

Confusion quickly transitioned back to anger as he drove the nail halfway through my wrist with a single furious blow. Each strike was accentuated by spit and words. "Why. Won't. You. Scream?"

I answered gently, "The guiltless mind cannot suffer, brother."

Again, confusion. None of this made sense to Clavius. He seemed less angry and unsure of himself as he got up and trod to my feet. He wasn't as deliberate or rough as he placed my feet on the angled block and finished tying the rope.

A quick glance up at me, and then he finished driving the last nail, firmly securing my body to the base of the rough wood. He nodded to the other soldiers, signaling his work was done and for me to be hoisted into my final resting position. Before he walked away, the centurion risked another glance. I could feel his heart changing. The anger was dissolving. There was a mix of awe, wonder, and fear.

As I was hoisted into the vertical position, I thought of my Father and my Home in Heaven. This only seemed to magnify the experience of no body and wholeness of heart.

As the soldiers continued to position me, I took the time to slowly look around at the crowd gathered to witness the three crucifixions. There was my mother, Mary of Sephora. My brother, James. And Joseph of Arimathea. A few of my friends—Thomas, Thaddaeus, and Isaah. Several interested souls, who were a mix of raw curiosity, sorrow, and contempt. Last but not least was my wife, Mary.

If we had millennia together, I could not even come close to expressing my profound love, gratitude, and utmost respect for my partner in life, love, and spirit. She was an equal on so many levels, my greatest disciple and teacher, and my greatest love while I experienced life as Jeshua. She understood what our universe was and, more important, how to let the physical universe fade into spirit. She was a big part of my walk on earth, as I was to her.

I gazed at her. She, back at me. I could feel the struggle within her mind and her heart. This was her big forgiveness lesson, watching her love go through physical abuse and now crucifixion. She knew this was all meant to be forgiven within her mind, yet a part of her was still caught up in what the body's eyes were seeing.

I could see her take a deep breath in as her chest rose beneath her garments. Then peace. Calm. Her olive skin glistened, reflecting the sun. Her brown eyes radiated love. The corners of her lips rose to acknowledge the peace she felt. She was with me in the place outside of the chaos and insanity. Once again, we were one.