Rachel's compelling voice, her piercing eyes, the graceful gestures of her hands often captivated her audience, making them see and feel and hear the very story she was relating. She had a unique way of bringing the past to life, so that listeners held their breath, waiting for more. Ulrika told Rachel that she had a rare and special gift, and asked her if she ever told her fabulous tales to the people of the oasis.
"I had never thought to," Rachel replied, but Ulrika could see that Rachel liked the notion of sharing her sacred stories with others. "Perhaps," she said. "At the least, my stories entertain and keep away the fears of the night."
But Rachel did engage in one practice that Ulrika could not fathom, and which she was too polite to inquire about. Periodically, Rachel would leave the camp and take herself away from everything, to a secluded spot, and there she would sit, cover her face with her hands, and sway rhythmically while whispering softly.
At first, Ulrika had thought she was weeping—a widow who occasionally remembered her loss and went into seclusion to deal with her grief. But then she had noticed that Rachel always returned with a smile, her eyes dry and with no sign of having wept. Finally Ulrika asked, and Rachel replied, "It is my meditation. It is more powerful than prayer for it is focused. With such concentration, one can connect with God, the Divine."
The Divine ...
Ulrika found herself desiring this woman's opinion and advice, and suspected she could confide in Rachel, so she set aside her broken sandal, the awl and leather laces, and said, "I have been told I have a spiritual gift called the Divining. Do you know of it?"
Rachel shook her head. "But in the history of my people there are many with spiritual gifts—prophets and visionaries."
After Ulrika explained about her personal quest, Rachel said, "Let me share with you my private meditation."
Ulrika listened with interest while Rachel described a technique of visualization, and also of repetition of a word or phrase. "It takes much practice, for the mind has a will of its own and is not easily commanded. This is why meditation is best conducted in a secluded setting. The rabbis tell us that when a person prays outdoors, the birds join in with the prayer and increase its effectiveness. So it must be also with meditation."
"Perhaps," she added after a moment of thought, "this meditation will help you understand your own connection to the Divine."
As Rachel seemed to have opened a personal door, Ulrika decided to ask another question that had stood at her lips ever since she first came here. "Rachel, what holds you to this place? Wouldn't you rather live in a town or a city? Come to Babylon with me."
"I still serve my husband."
"Even though he is dead?"
Rachel added with a smile, "He will come back someday."
"What do you mean?"
"Jacob and I will be reunited in the Resurrection." Seeing that Ulrika did not understand, Rachel said, "In the Book of Job it is written, 'Once more my skin shall clothe me, and in my flesh I will have sight of God.' Another prophet, named Daniel, said that those who lie sleeping in the dust of the earth shall wake, to enjoy life everlasting. And our Teacher, who was crucified by Rome, said that we shall rise again at the resurrection, when the Last Day comes."
Rachel added, "Because I trust you, Ulrika, and because of the circumstances of how we met, I am going to tell you what I have never told another soul. My husband is buried here and it is my task in life to protect his grave. This is why I stay."
Ulrika looked around, but saw no grave marker. "What do you mean, the circumstances of how we met?
"The place where Almah and I found you, on that spot where you hurt your ankle and called out for help, that is where my Jacob is buried."
Ulrika's eyes flew open. "I was lying upon a grave?"
"Eleven years ago, my husband's political enemies assassinated him and I knew that their persecution of him would not stop with his death, that they would not be satisfied until they had scattered his bones to the winds. And so I and a few loyal friends brought my Jacob's body down here and buried it in a secret place, with no marker, nothing to indicate that he rested there. My friends stayed with me, but over the years, one by one they left. This is why I do not live at the oasis, and why I cannot go to Babylon with you, for I must keep eternal vigil on Jacob's resting place, to protect it from his enemies."
Ulrika was stunned. She had not chosen the place but had been led there by the spirit of a wolf. And then she recalled the profound vision she had experienced on that place—the man with blinding light radiating from his head and hands.
17
ULRIKA COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT RACHEL'S FOCUSED meditation. If it connected a person to the Divine, then might it not also connect her to the Divining?
She chose a day when Rachel and Almah went to the oasis. With the aid of a walking staff, for her ankle was still tender, Ulrika walked down to the place where the two women had found her, injured and calling for help. She supposed she could have experimented with the meditation anywhere in this wilderness, but this was where she had experienced two intense visions. And a man was buried here. Perhaps this place possessed a special energy, and that was why the visions had been so startling.
Recalling the steps Rachel had outlined, Ulrika sat with her face into the wind as sunshine shimmered off the surface of the distant Sea of Salt. She crossed her legs, covered her face with her hands, and concentrated on slowing her respiration, controlling her lungs. When she was breathing deeply, in a measured rhythm, she chose an image upon which to center her thoughts. "Choose something that is personal," Rachel had advised. "Something simple and pure." And so Ulrika conjured up in her mind the inner flame which burns in every soul, and then she began a whispered chant. As the words came over and over, as her hands blocked out the world, Ulrika began to sway, for as Rachel said, "We put our entire bodies into prayer so that we pray even with our sinew and bones."
Ulrika watched the inner light, the glimmering soul flame, and sent her repeated prayer into the cosmos: "Compassionate All Mother, hear my plea. Compassionate All Mother, hear my plea." And gradually Ulrika began to feel a sweet peace steal over her, felt her worries and fears melt away. The image of the flame grew until she could feel its heat, and she trembled to think that the image of the radiant man, that had filled her with such joyous ecstasy, was about to materialize.
But instead, a wild countryside of rolling green hills and barren rocks coalesced in her mind's eye, trees twisted by constant winds filled her inner vision, and she saw the scallop-shell altar, the beautiful woman in flowing white robes.
It was Gaia, again, the distant ancestress of Sebastianus Gallus.
Ulrika formed a question in her mind and sent it forth. "Can you help me, Honored One?"