Fire of being born again. Ignatius' Page 7. Door 3
Yulia Ivanova
Fire of being born again. Ignatius' Page 7. Door 3
* * *
He again began to think of an ampoule.
Joanna would never know what happened later that night, when Denis, suddenly woke up in his room from the cold, slipped on his robe and, jumping into the hall, found that the door Ignatius' bedroom was open.
Apparently, by the draft.
A huge window on the street was opened wide too, the February snowstorm blew along the room.
And the master himself, being barefoot in his nightgown to his ankles, as still sitting on the windowsill.
In the dark, with eyes closed.
He was snowy, icy, but with the hot hand and the same hot spots on his cheeks.
If it were not for these hot spots, it would be like a ghost.
But Denis was not timid.
She pulled Ignatius from the sill, pushed into a chair - it was good that he did not resist.
Then she slammed the window and began to dry the 'ghost' by a hot dryer.
She was sure that here drugs were involved.
He stubbornly refused to answer any questions, only from time to time asked her to leave.
In general, he behaved like a child, to top it all began to sob on her shoulder. He smiled and wept.
Then she decided to call a doctor who was Ignatius' friend and lived two floors below and indicate that it happened 'once again'.
Before he appealed to him in such cases.
The friend who was in a bathrobe too rushed in five minutes.
He stated a strong nervous shock, made Ignatius drink some stuff and put him to bed.
At his questioning of what eventually happened in the house Denis really could not say anything.
Her friend told her to look after sick and went home.
When Denis returned to the bedroom, Ignatius had slept like a log.
Neither in the morning, nor after he talked about the incident. Denis, of course, was also silent.
That's about all that after many days of Joanna learnt about Ignatius' Parisian life and this night snowstorm on February 9, which he called simply awestruck whisper, 'tenth wave'.
His whole life from now on divided into two periods - before and after 'tenth wave.
Joanna did not ever dare to ask any questions about those matters.
He himself once uttered, denoting his 'tenth wave' by another word:
'FIRE'.
Subsequently, she would meet something like this in the famous 'Memorial' by Blaise Pascal:
'FIRE'.
God of Abraham, Isaac, the God of Jacob, not of philosophers and sages.
Confidence, confidence ...
Joy, Peace.
God of Jesus Christ.
Forgetfulness of the world and all, except God.
There was a tight narrow path over the abyss.
The only real role, embedded by the Author, Lord of the theater, the innermost depths of your new born ego.
The same secret instruction, pointing the way to the true Being.
And around there are a thousand masks, roles, costumes, roads...
Lord, why?
Another great gift of his is freedom.
Freedom does not choose you? Why?
Because where there is no choice, no freedom.
The tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil is the gift of freedom.
Obedience or disobedience to the Lord of the Theatre.
Life or death.
On the fateful choice of the grandparents began the history, evil and death came into the world.
Everyone's choice is to fulfill things recorded in his heart or wear masks.
Of lies, greed, lust, ambition, pride - their name is legion.
And reject all his masks, all his roles and get back to yourself.
To the idea, which I breathed into you.
My spirit, my image are the only genuine, immortal in you, because only I AM.
Darkness and death are the lack of me.
You pull the plug from the light source and there comes darkness.
All the masks and the role of this world crumble to dust.
Do not dare to rework the play; it was written before the beginning of time and conceived by me.
And you have power only to hourly choose between me and not me.
Light and darkness.
The kingdom of light cannot consist of darkness.
Come back to your genuine, to my idea about you.
Someone who will be on stage when his time is over, must be genuine but not a mask.
That's it.
'I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman.
Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it, that it may bring forth more fruit'.
You gave yourself to me, you returned yourself to me, you opened yourself to me, and I will come into you.
And I will fill you with the fire, and I will send you into the world.
So that you, like a candle, can lit path of peace to me, being burned down by my own fire.
Deny himself, take up your cross and follow me - so I say.
Do not cringe to the world and do not to dominate the world. Do not run away from the world and do not be tempted by it.
But bear his torment with me on, saving the world.
I have chosen you to burn.
I know you are empty and cold.
I will kindle in my fire you, holy sacrificial fire of love, where you willl burn without a trace.
And you will become Warmth and Fire, and you will be Light.
And you will dwell with me because I was there, where light and fire are.
Candle is perishable but its light is eternal.
Only those who will become the light, will wake up in the Kingdom of Light, where there is no darkness.
'And they shall see his face; and his name shall be in their foreheads.
And there shall be no night there; and they need no candle, neither light of the sun; for the Lord God giveth them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever' (Revelation, 22:4-5).
In this way or Joanna accepted Ignatius' 'conversion'.
* * *
During the first few 'weeks he will be unspeakably and childishly happy.
Once hopelessly evil, ugly, meaningless and hostile world appeared as an enchanted kingdom, frozen in anticipation of waking up.
All of these exchanges, exhibitions, visits to galleries, presentations and negotiations, shop, news, airplanes, taxis, express trains, rockets, crowd, business, friends and acquaintances, advertisements were just a rash or blisters on the body of thick sick kingdom.
'But the order of actions was thought-out.
Whether it was an empty farce, domestic bore, bloody mystery or mad steeplechase - the whole chaotic many act play showed its meaning only when the light was lit hall.
Now he knew - it would be so. He was still full of that Light.
He wanted to yell all those fighting, warring, competing, ruin oneself by drink, committing adulteries, sitting on a needle and chasing money, masterpieces, marks of distinction, broads, ministerial portfolios, voices of voters, all sorts of idols
"Stop it!"
Cannot you see that the apples are made of wax, diamonds are glass, locks are made out of cardboard...
And only Laertes's sword is real.
You live as if everything is opposite.
Why do not realize their spiritual deception, illness, madness?
The curtain will soon fall and the darkness will come.
How many of you will be genuine, without clownish mask?
Who will play himself as the Creator conceived?
"Make the heart of these men. And their ears heavy, and shut their eyes lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart.
And it is not converted, and I should heal them. "
(Isaiah 6:10).
So, there is Master of the Theatre, there is you, and he wrote the role for you.
Decorations do not matter.
It is important to your relationship with other actors, whom you must help not to lose, do not carry the gag, and play as close as possible to the text written by the Creator role.
The texts of the Creator are the only genuine.
Only his Hamlet will rise at the end of time.
All the characters that are invented by us, all the masks are just props.
Played himself, that is the image of God in himself, God's plan for yourself - only then ozhivesh and will become a reality.
Only God exist, and only in him one can exist.
Now Ignatius did not understand how they could not see Him, the Author.
Whose presence he sensed everywhere now: in their faces, falling snow, in a cat springing on his knees, in the bushes of hydrangeas, in the flower basket.
Beauty which is corrupted, eaten by decay got some deep and original meaning, the beauty of the prototype.
Roses in a vase in the living room, which Denis periodically changed, were no longer fading roses for him not, nor roses, which were just bought and also doomed to fade...
These were roses and that was all.
Beyond time and space, always fresh and beautiful as written in a last century still life.
Ignatius removed the spell from aging face, imagining what they would be when the veils of old lead melt in the divine fire and peace would appear in the eternal beauty of the unprecedented plan.
'And I saw a new heaven and new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and was no more sea.
And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes and death will no longer, nor mourning, nor crying, nor pain will be no more: for the former things have passed.'
And he said to me: it happened! I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end to the thirsty I will give a gift from a source of living water'.
(Revelation. 21:1, 4, 6).
All things that before depressed, annoyed and angered him, now aroused piercing forgiving pity for from the station a girl who ruined her by drinking to a superstar and the Prime Minister.
Because the mask of an outcast is no more prestigious than mask of the Prince if they serve darkness.
One who sowed temporary and perishable things will reap decay.
'I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst'
(John 6:35).
In those early honey days Ignatius felt His presence by every cell of his own.
His light in which the real, genuine - Fire, Light and Warmth stood out and outlined.
Melt, clear, transform and resurrect himself with the Fire of Divine Love.
Every dirt, false, scale and slag should be burned.
'And you must be born again...'
Labors of second birth.
Ignatius again gave up all his works.
Reject your former self and your former business and your old pictures, especially the last one, which now seemed to him a pile of bloody bandages.
He hated them and his past life, which was not his.
And only then would Ignatius find out that if it was not agony and torment of the hateful life now, desperately silent cry for help to the One unknown, there would have been the thing that in the Gospel 'conversation with Nicodemus' 'described as being born again'.
'You made us, in order to seek Thee, and our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee'.
(St. Augustine Aurelius).
These snobs and the bourgeoisie, so monotonous and boringly enjoying life... and smaller fry catching up with the remnants of the master's table ... and frigid ice lover of his native land, ruin oneself by drink under the mud and snags, eating fig in the pocket and dreams of a 'wind of changes'- all of that he had previously condemned, despised, hated, which hung over him, oppressed and tormented, now only asking for help.
He forgot, he could not understand his former self.
Now he only wanted to help them all and did not know how to do it.
He gave money to homeless people (those who immediately spent it for drinking), Paris Sonia Marmeladovas who cheerfully exchanged franks of a 'mad Russian' on the right to catch customers on a more prestigious corner.
To tired having many children housewives from poor neighborhoods who dreamt of a color television or entering into fashion video.
Several of his attempts to somehow share his new outlook with someone ended in a fiasco.
At best, they listened to him with interest, nodded sympathetically but with a sigh that of course something in the world is wrong, something is amiss in the state of Denmark, and maybe things are not all wrong.
Or does it immediately felt how lively eye of his contact became glassy. And an invisible wall separated Ignatius from enchanted kingdom, which was worthy of pity, to sympathy and weeping.
Dying of happiness from a sense of His nearness.
Of agony, when it was given to him to see his past life in the phantasmagoric horror of the offense and shudder in unbearable shame, like Simon Peter:
'Depart from me, Lord, because I am a sinful man'.
(Luke 5:8).
And again, his forgiving love, the Cross, the Calvary, mad at the evil self-affirmation actors who rejected the Word descended to them.
And in their crowd, 'singing':
"Crucify."
"Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do..."
And the divine, 'it is finished.'
And the bloody lightning of the Calvary that pierced the darkness.
And still mad and grimacing actors.
Who forgot that only the sword of Laertes was real.
/This is the condemnation, that light is come into the world and men loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.
For everyone who does evil hates the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds be reproved, because they are evil'.
(John 3, 17-20).
The first main commandment 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy mind', was that was not given to the majority of mankind is given an incredible effort, responded in Ignatius as instantaneous return fire.
* * *
"Being chosen and born again" said father Peter who now loved his godson.
Now, they often saw each other.
The Great Fast came; it was the first a\fast in Ignatius' life.
And the more he retreated from anything that previously filled his days: business, friends, exhibitions and tastes, the more silent his body became and he felt better of vegetable salads and cereals, olive oil, which Denis obediently, wondering at nothing, prepared him to, the more he was attracted into the little church, a gathering of Orthodox emigrants of all waves and generations. Russian, Bulgarians, Greeks.
Ignatius rarely spoke with anyone.
He grew normally at the side of the altar for a wide column, where no one was visible, and he could see only his father Peter who was looked skinny and inspirational too.
Ignatius himself still did not know how to pray, and internally joining her father Peter, a beautiful man of prayer, was flying with him to the divine fire, exhausted from the love and happiness.
He fell burning his wings and took off again.
Ignatius was shocked by His not descending love for him - the Creator's love for fallen creatures, and proper response selfless love; he was shocked by discovery, in which he could not bring himself to believe.
That He, being the inscrutable and omnipotent Creator of the universe, was also craved for responsive love.
And memory persistently prompted Ignatius last moments of his blind life when he not simply unconsciously longed for God, but heard his call, which was eager for reciprocity.
It seemed impossible, but only explained the idea that 'man's soul was the bride of Christ'.
He created the universe for it, He called it from nothingness, He gave it freedom.
And when it had fallen, forgetting, betraying repeatedly with \idols, he not only continued to love it but atoned for its sin by his divine blood.
Continuing to forgive and to craving for its responsive love.
For fullness of happiness in a marriage of heaven is only in connection...
Languishing on the response love of his creation, the Creator knows that without this reciprocal love it will be lost.
For only he is the way the truth and the life. Outside are the death of the eternal ...
In love of creature to the Creator is its only salvation, the only chance.
He craves for its responsive love out of love for it.
'The spirit that dwelleth in us lusteth to envy'.
(James 4:5).
It seemed to Ignatius that he flew up higher and higher, not for his force, being horrified with closeness to the fire and wanting it.
And the fire called him, waiting for him.
So that one day in the final blissful approach to burn down all things preventing the great universal marriage feast.
When everything will all in all.
And everything will be Love, Light and Life.
And in this is the meaning of every being, every the super-task embedded in the heart, which is committed by some of the greatest film producers.
'My son, give Me your heart and let thine eyes observe my ways.'
(Proverbs. 23:26).
And in the evenings, when the Gospel chapters on the sufferings of Christ were read, where God Who became man so that we divinize, humiliated, abandoned by his disciples, committed to a painful shameful death, drunk the bitter human cup to the bottom up to being forsaken by God, died on the cross, Ignatius suddenly asked himself:
"What if then the devil won and there would be no resurrection and no hope and reward, but eternal darkness after the show - who would he, Ignatius Darenov, have chosen in this earthly life?"
Which way?
And there was no doubt: with Him, only Him, with the Galilean.
With his incredible teaching.
He loved not only the Christ-God, not the prospect of immortality in his kingdom, but the Christ-man.
The second Adam who overcame his mortal nature in the garden of Gethsemane.
'O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt'.
(Matthew 26:39).
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