Agape: In Search of Universal Love
from the novel, The Lodging for the Rose
Rolf. A. F. Witzsche

Story 15 - In the Flow of Life.
page 99


      "Hey, I just did," I shouted back, and started to swim towards the canyon.
      I swam the entire length of the canyon, effortlessly overcoming the flow of its slow moving current. In fact, I found the swimming invigorating. When the river widened behind the gorge that had opened up into a valley, I saw the familiar draw gate again. This time it's inscription read; "Divine Science encompassing the universe and man; metaphysics taking the place of physics."
      "Let me pass," I called to the gate keeper as I climbed out of the water.
      He shook his head. "This land has a law..." he started to say, holding his hand up to hold me back.
      "I know all that," I interrupted. "You must let me pass, because I have earned my way across, I am no longer that empty inside that I do not know myself as a human being. There is no need for you to hold me back."
      The gate keeper looked at me, surprised, then nodded in agreement. "But you must return to the temple. Whatever love you find in this land shines resplendent only by what you bring to it, within yourself. You require this inner light, for the journey is immensely great beyond the gate."
      He pointed to the inscription on the gate. "Do you know what divine Science is?" he asked. "It is the science of our divinity as human beings. It is your gate to infinity. You must pass through this gate again and again, and discover your divinity. There is no finity beyond this gate."
      I said that I promised to return and do as he had told.
      "See that you do," the gate keeper said. "If you don't, you will be tempted to climb the great mountain for the majesty of the view that it offers, and you will be tempted to write to all the world of its grandeur. But your work will be empty if it is not aglow with universal love and universal sovereignty, and be of no use to anyone, but becomes a prison. An empty philosophy becomes a prison for humanity. You don't want to become a prison keeper, do you? Then people would call on you and demand that you teach them your new vision, and you will shackle and snare them with your dreams that have nothing to do with reality. You will tell them that there is no truth in anything, because without the divinity of love, truth cannot be recognized. You will cripple them with expectations that you deprive them of the means to grasp. And you will find yourself proud to be pushing them in the wheelchairs of your creating. Unless you understand the nature of the science of the divinity of your love for your humanity, you'll be a babbling fool. So go on, but be aware not ever to loose sight of the divinity of love. Its light is your humanity. Go and start climbing to the last step, embrace the toil of your ascend through steaming jungles and across snow fields and ice, scaling tall cliffs, traversing walls of ice and snow...." He stopped.
      "Go on," I urged him.
      "Unless your experience enables your brother to stand where you stand, turn back. By this alone you will know that your living is incomplete. Then you must go back to the temple. You must conquer everyone of the other rivers. Each gate is a science that opens the pathway to new realms of truth. You must travel those rivers again and again, for the land of love is also a land of tireless labor and of great responsibility."
      I nodded. I said I understood. At least I thought I understood.
      The gate keeper smiled and laid a hand onto the hand wheel to raise the gate. Creaky and rusty, the old iron gate rose to let me pass.
      As I plunged back into the river to swim on, immediately, found myself in a cathedral. An usher approached me and demanded total silence.
      I looked around. Over the altar of the cathedral hung a series of large paintings, one depicted a lone star shining above a dim night of chaos. The next showed Jesus raising a young woman to life. "This scene is the miracle that will rescue humanity from its tiny marriages," said a voice echoing in my head as if someone had spoken and stirred the great silence.

Next Page

|| - page index - || - chapter index - || - download - || - Exit - ||

 

 

 

 

 (c) Copyright 1998 - Rolf Witzsche
Published by Cygni Communications Ltd. North Vancouver, Canada