The Ceremony
Every Thursday evening, the same program was set in motion.
The friends would gather together at the center and wait for the
arrival of their spiritual guide.
When she appeared, roughly at the same time each week, she
would signal for the music to begin. The songs which were selected
often varied from one occasion to the next, but they always were
intended to help create a state of focused remembering with respect
to Divinity’s presence.
She always came dressed in a frock made from white, plain
muslin material. She would stand at the center of a circle formed by
the rest of the participants.
At a pre-arranged point, a number of people would bring in a
wooded box and set it on the floor next to the teacher. The box was
made of unvarnished and unpainted pinewood.
Several other individuals would enter the interior of the circle
and line the box with various kinds of simple cloth. Another person
would sprinkle rose petals into the box.
When everything had been properly prepared and the other
people had rejoined the circle, the spiritual guide would lower her
head, push both hands before her in an outward motion, palms
upright, slowly bring them back to her chest area, and, then, extend
them outward again, as if bringing something in to her from the
circle as well as passing something back, again, to the individuals
surrounding her. Next, she pivoted slightly on her right foot in order
to face toward a different part of the circle, and she repeated the
previous movement with her hands.
The hand movements and the pivoting on her right foot would
continue until she had made a rotation back to her original starting
point. When the rotation was completed, she would kneel down and
kiss the floor with her lips as well as touch it with her forehead, and,
then, she would rise up, bring her hands to her head, touch, first, her
eyes and, then, her ears briefly with both hands, and, finally, cast her
hands away in a, more or less, vertical direction, as if she were
throwing something away.
After bringing her hands down, she would stand for a moment,
head lowered, as if in silent prayer. When ready, she would raise her
head and walk to the wooden box and lie down in it.
Several people from the circle would come with a sheet and cover
the box. Once this was done, they would return to the circle.
With the exception of the music, everything would be quiet for
a time. However, after several moments, the music would stop and
the people in the circle would begin to sing songs in praise of
Divinity, often times in unison but, occasionally, someone would offer
a solo.
Usually, this portion of things went on for about an hour. When
it was done, the people would leave the circle and retire to a room
where a meal was served.
Near the end the meal, their guide would join them, and she
always seemed to be radiating a degree of happiness, peace,
contentment, joy, and love above her usual sense of being when she
came into the dining hall from the room where she had been laying
down. She would eat a little of the prepared food as the rest of the
group finished their meal.
At the end of the dinner, everyone would stand up and, along
with the teacher, offer a traditional prayer of gratitude. When the
prayer was finished, the teacher would slowly make the rounds
among the tables and gently touch each person on the head or
shoulder. Sometimes her hand would linger on someone’s head or
shoulder, and the teacher would close her eyes and lower her head
during this interim before she moved on.
Following this facet of the program, everyone sat down. The
session was opened to questions for which their guide would offer
various responses.
Although many kinds of questions were raised during these
interchanges, sooner or later during the evening, someone would ask
about the meaning and significance of the ceremony which had
preceded the current discussion. Usually, the teacher would merely
suggest that people reflect on the entire process because her
providing ready answers to their questions wasn’t always the best
means through which to learn, but, sometimes, she encouraged them
to reflect out loud.
Over time, numerous possibilities had been suggested in an
attempt to explain the ceremony. Some supposed the ceremony was
intended to remind everyone present that death awaits us all and is
the one true certainty of life. Some individuals believed their guide
was trying to teach them how precious life is and that we should take
advantage of the opportunity which time offers before it is taken
away from us.
Other people felt the ceremony was a sort of passion play
concerning death and resurrection, with the meal representing the
reward which awaits those who have committed their lives to the
right sort of principles and actions. A further segment maintained
she was reminding the members of the spiritual center that she would
not always be with them but life and the teachings should carry on.
Another group of individuals believed the theme of gratitude was
prominent throughout the ceremony and, consequently, these people
felt the entire evening was intended to help the members of the center
to be thankful for all the wonderful things which were encompassed
by the gift of life, and, especially, the gift of spiritual opportunity.
Still others considered the ceremony to be a interwoven series of
exercises in Divine remembrance.
The guide listened attentively and appreciatively to all the ideas.
However, the people in attendance at these gatherings often sensed
that while she indicated the various suggestions given were good ones
and embodied valuable insights, none of the proffered possibilities
really captured the essence of the ceremony’s ultimate purpose.
In time, their guide would approach this or that individual to
take her place in the ceremony. Such people would be instructed by
the teacher about how to do the ceremony and once selected, they
were not permitted to reveal anything of what they had been told to
the others.
There were noticeable differences in how different segments of
the selected people reacted to their participation in the ceremony.
There were a few who seemed to emulate the teacher. More
specifically, after the members of the circle had retired to the dining
hall and when the time came for the individual selected by the
teacher to substitute for her in the ceremony would enter the room,
these individuals seemed to exhibit the same sort of radiance as the
teacher always did – happy, peaceful, content, joyous -- full of life
and light.
Some others who were selected by the teacher did not exhibit
such qualities. In fact, they often appeared depressed, anxious,
worried, or upset -- as if an opportunity had been given and lost, and
as if weighed down by some sort of burden.
Irrespective of how a person selected for the ceremony
responded, the teacher never displayed any sign of approval or
rejection. She treated everyone with equanimity and acceptance.
One Thursday evening, after the ceremony and the meal
following it had been completed, the guide addressed the gathering:
“Tonight is the last time I will participate in this ceremony. My time
on Earth is coming to an end.”
Naturally, the assembly was dismayed to hear this news and
were quite shocked. Some began crying. All were very quiet and
attentive.
She continued on: “We all knew this time would come for me,
just as, one day, it will come for all of you. However, by the Grace of
God, we have been able to make good use of some of the treasure
trove of time which Divinity has allotted us by spending our
Thursday evenings together in, remembrance, friendship and the
pursuit of bettering our understanding as well as our character --
both collective and individual.
“As a parting gift to you, I will explain the significance of the
ceremony which we have been observing for quite some time now. Of
course, some of you already know, to varying degrees, what the
ceremony entails with respect to its inner dimensions.
“Essentially, the ceremony is about letting go. Life weighs us
down with emotional baggage and we spend our days enveloped in
a steady torrent of troubles created by ourselves because we are not
prepared to let go of the pain which we believe others, rightly or
wrongly, have inflicted upon us. Instead, we become preoccupied
with the slights, rejection, disrespectful attitudes, ridicule, contempt,
cruelties, betrayals, insincerity, lies, manipulations, and hypocrisy
which people seek to impose on us.
“Our spiritual path is intended to help us die to ourselves and
accept what our Creator has arranged for us, be it sorrowful or
joyous, through the acts of other people. We must release both the
positive and negative emotions which Divine events have engendered
in us, because, in truth, none of these emotions belong to us – they
have only been loaned to us.
“When we hold on to them as if they belonged to us and as if
there were a real ‘us’ capable of possessing anything, then, such
emotions begin to poison our attitudes, thinking, understanding, and
behavior. We begin to take things personally, rather than come to the
realization that we are only limited role players in a much bigger
drama production than we often suppose -- one which is precisely
choreographed and which involves no injustice, despite what
appearances may suggest.
“As someone once said, there is no such thing as a small role,
only small-minded actors. Divinity fully appreciates all of our roles,
but Divinity also wants us to understand we are but virtual locations
through which our roles are being manifested, and, then, we must let
go of whatever transpires – be it joyous or sorrowful.
“Many of us are like actors who want to hold on to the props and
trappings of a play after it has concluded, not understanding that we
must prepare ourselves for further stage entrances during ensuing
acts of Being’s play. When we hold onto issues and emotions from
previous scenes, sooner or later, this begins to interfere with our
ability not only to perform in the Divine Drama, but with our ability
to enjoy the process as well.
“So, each week I died to myself. I died to my desires, my
expectations, my hopes, my moods, my emotions, and my sense of
being an independent self or being. We all need to die to ourselves all
the time in this manner, but the ceremony offered an opportunity to
have the idea begin to permeate our hearts and souls before we face
the real final curtain of our lives.
“When, by the Grace of God, we are successful in letting go of all
this mental, emotional, biographical, and existential baggage, a
tremendous burden is lifted from us. We feel the joy, happiness,
peace, and contentment which God intended us to experience when
we give back to the Producer, Director, Playwright, and Chief of the
Prop Department what does not belong to us, as well as openly
acknowledge and accept this fundamental fact of existence. As
someone once said: ‘We must die before we die.’”
In silence, she stood before the group of friends for a while
longer. Then, she waved good-bye, exited stage right, and passed on
to the next Act.
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