Ashes on Ash Wednesday

Mandala with oil pastels

I went into the catholic church on Ash Wednesday, on  a whim. I saw a big crowd leaving and found out that I was in time to go to the Spanish Mass, having missed the English one. When I went inside I though I was in the Cathedral in Guetamala, with no white people there except myself. There were very young families sitting together, with five of six children from 6 months and younger all the way up to late teens.  The main church was already filled up and I was directed into the old church adjoining through a wide passage way. There was a big tv on the wall and I could see the priest in the distance both on the tv and through the church entrance. There were singers and instrument players, with good music and voices in Spanish. 

On my way to Mass

I know the form but did not understand the language. I was content to be there, as if I was led into the space. I had no prior plan to go, yet there I was at 7.30pm. I felt warm inside, both literally and figuratively.

The ashes was organized. “Remember man thou art but dust and into dust thou shalt return” were the words I heard when I was a child. It seemed the words in spanish were shorter. The ashes was wet and a very distinct cross was made on each person’s forhead in a dark gray. Somehow the centers of those crosses looked white. 

Then it came time for the consecration of the mass proper. I have been wondering how Jesus fits into this whole spiritual journey. My mother was so into Jesus, through Jesus to God. My bible study is the same speaking of protection through the spilt blood of Jesus. I also know a healer woman who talks to Jesus all the time as she goes about her work. 

My version is that Jesus was a special man. He had many past lives and had grown as a soul to the point where he agreed, wanted, to save us all, which many think he did. He shows us the way to be connected to the Father and told us expressly, that  because he made his connection with the father, now we can too. And for good measure he returned to the Christ Spirit, to being a spirit man, one with the Father. So in that sense he became a son of God, and as a son got back all the privileges he had as a soul, before the foundation of the world, which included all the miracle making and ability to ascend, heal the sick and raise the dead.

My job is not to be a Jesus, but to follow my way, what I came here to do, to link up with Father, and find that secret way, that is threaded out to me as I walk the pilgrimage that is my life. I can step off the path any time and go back on also, asking for forgiveness, asking to be taken back in. Will this life bring transformation, will I ascend? I honestly do not know and expect to live and die like others. Because Jesus made the grade, then he broke up the barriers and many more can get through to a true spiritual state. It is all there in the gospels if you want to ferrit it out. The old testament has it too. 

When Jesus said that “This is my body and this is my blood given up for you since the foundation of the world” was he saying that he found a way to sacrifice his own wishes, his own body and blood, his earthly being, physical body, literally and figuratively, in favor of what he had agreed with the Father to do. This is what brings the transformation. 

And as I sat there, on my little hard seat, in the back of the back, watching as the tv lost its signal, I peered through the openway and thought that Jesus was on the alter, dresses as the priest. These Spanish speaking people were there for the hour and a half and I think they brought in this vision for me, to help me understand, to give me a genuine experience of what is possible through these rituals. “Do this in memory of me” took on new meaning for me.  

The mass was in Spanish and when the priest told his sermon, he made his congregants laugh genuinely. When they shook hands with me they were full of smiles and friendly. 

I drank the blood and ate the body, and did  it in memory of Jesus, the Master.

The Cayce reading say that Jesus is the pattern, and that that pattern is available to us through doing as he says, being in the fruits of the spirit, listening to our dreams, caring for our bodies, watching our mental musings and meditating into a link to our Father which is always only a meditation away. Start the journey and more will be given. 

I made up a new song to the Father “My Father, from where I come from.” I am linking into who I am before time began, before the foundation of the world. Will I be able to give up my body and my blood in favor of the spirit that is mine from the foundation of the world. 

I find joy in my work of this writing and in my work with dreams. I hope wisdom comes to me to help me in this way. I will continue with the meditaion I do and I am feeling how connected it makes me feel and I am open to experiences what come my way, in churches, with people, in nature, alone at night meditating.

Love from Rose

About rlongwort

Licensed Professional Counselor. Dream specialist.
This entry was posted in Dream Counseling, Psychoanalytic, Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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