Текст книги "Sensei of Shambala"

“But as a matter of fact, the prophecy of Jesus ran that He will revive from the dead and will appear shining on the third day. So Jesus should have come on the third day not in flesh but in the Spirit of God to dispel all doubts that He was sent from God. But Pontius Pilate and his supporters did not let the body of Christ die. Christ was forced to come into a body.

“In his understanding, Pilate certainly saved Christ. That is why Jesus appreciated his deed and released him from a chain of reincarnations. Pilate was the first who talked to Christ after His revival.”

“Well, that is not known for sure.”

“It is known. Even up to now, there are some mentions of it. Someone keeps them carefully so as not to shake his authority, but everything is in vain and he will pay for it. So when Jesus regained consciousness, Pontius Pilate talked to Him and begged Jesus to leave the country because the persecutions of the priests in power could begin again. Pilate asked Him, ‘Take pity upon me, do not go out to the people.’ Jesus answered that He would execute the request of Pilate but that He would leave only after He saw His pupils. And He stuck to His word. As the main mission was finished, Issa left. He went to the East with His mother and one of His pupils. Jesus lived more than a hundred years and was buried in the city of Shrinagar, the capital of Kashimir, where He settled down in His last years. This picturesque place is located between two lakes at the foot of the Himalayas. His tomb is located in a crypt of the tomb Rozabal, which means ‘the tomb of the prophet.’”

“Maybe that really happened. But it is impossible to prove that there are remains of Jesus’ body in that tomb.”

“Why is it impossible? It can be proved. There are some traces of the crucifixion left. In particular, scratches on the bones of the hands, on the feet, and even traces from a spear on the ribs. Moreover, He has a badly healed fracture in the distal half of the right tibial diaphysis.”

“A fracture? Was His leg broken during the execution?”

“Oh, there is no connection to the execution. It happened much later when Christ was rather old. That is why I draw your attention to the fact that the fracture is specific, it is badly knit. It proves that Issa lived until His old age.”

“What about the idea that Jesus rose into the sky in a body?”

“Obviously such an insertion was necessary for someone to make in order to strengthen his flock’s belief in the material nature. And in general, you should read the Bible more attentively: out of four Gospels, only two of them mention the Ascension. It the Gospels according to St. Matthew and St. John, they write about Jesus’ meeting with His pupils on a mountain. And in the Gospels according to St. John, it is even written that, after this meeting, Jesus left with His favorite pupil. There are numerous mentions of Issa staying in the East after His crucifixion. This information is kept not only in the East, but also in the Vatican library.”

“Let’s say you are right. But if that happened in bad times, then why not tell people the truth now, if you say that there are numerous mentions of Jesus staying in the East and these documents confirm it. The time has completely changed.”

“Time has changed, but people strive for authority just as they did thousands of years ago. Can you imagine what it would mean for the top religious leaders to tell people the truth and show the world the historical documents they hide so carefully? It would be a great catastrophe for them! It would undermine all the foundations of their religion, would shake belief of the novices and their huge flock, and consequently would undermine their authority. Nobody will ever do it. But a human who is in a constant search of knowledge without doubt will come sooner or later across these texts.”

“In general, you may be right,” the novice said thoughtfully. “To tell the truth, I had some doubts concerning the Ascension, but about Pontius Pilate… who would have thought it!”

“Yes, Pontius Pilate deserved the favor of God for his love, but he certainly did more harm than good to Issa,” Sensei said deep in thought. “He doomed Him to more than eighty years of wandering in a body. But obviously that was the retribution of Christ for the salvation of Pilate.”

A short silence reigned, with each participant of this conversation plunged into his thoughts. We also stood silently, not daring to interrupt such a fascinating conversation.

“I wonder,” the novice started talking again, “why did Jesus come to the Jews but not to any other nation? Were those people chosen by God? It is written everywhere in the Bible that beginning with Abraham God calls them His favorite people.”

“You see, God has no distinctions of nationalities, color of skin, and so on, as all people are children of God. God loves them all equally. But when one of your children falls ill, you give all your attention and love to this sick child so that he recovers more quickly. The same is true with God. Recall the words of Jesus, ‘They that are in health need not a physician, but they that are sick.’”

“Is the number of His pupils somehow connected to mysticism or numerology? In fact, there were twelve of them and Jesus turns out to be the thirteenth?”

“No, there is no mysticism in it. He simply searched among people for pupils with more or less ripened souls. He was lucky to find at least twelve individuals among those people, but one of them betrayed Him.”

The novice grinned, “Yes, if you follow the words of Jesus in the Bible then you are right, a sick person needs a doctor, not a healthy one. Though today, it seems to me that the whole planet needs a doctor and not just this nation.”

“Absolutely right. Just look at what is going on in our country – materialism has been cultivated for more than seventy years. The slightest freedom of choice appeared and people plunged into various religions like fishes as their spiritual nature also needs to develop. Just look how many new sects, branches, and religions appeared and began to prosper at once.

“In our country, that’s understandable. But take a look at what is going on around the world. Everywhere there is a splash of various religions. People are tossed from one to another. It seems like they like it. Everywhere they are treated well, everywhere they are smiled at, politely spoken to. But the soul rejects their teachings because it needs real knowledge, because it wants Freedom, while sects and religions are too limited. They give more food to the mind than to the soul. The souls feel that under this trumpery, this externally ‘authentic’ shell, the fruit itself is rotten. That’s why the soul trembles, while man is tossing in search of wholly ripe fruit.”

“I’m sorry, but you mentioned that time is beginning to shrink. What do you mean by that?”

“It was predicted by the ancients,” Sensei explained, “and even Jesus said that, ‘And except those days should be shortened, there would no flesh be saved: but for the elect's sake those days shall be shortened.’ That is, when mankind as a whole faces the key choice or, as it is said in eschatology, when they stand on the threshold of divine justice, one of the main attributes of this time will be its compression. Basically, nothing will radically change. As the clock showed 24 hours per day, it will continue showing it. The calendar will remain as it is, and there will still be 365 days per year. But inside of the soul, something will start to tremble and the human will feel this shortage of time. He will notice that time runs faster; a day flies by as if an instant, a month flies by as if a week, years fly by as if months. Time will become more compressed and dense. It is a certain signal, a sign for the soul.”

“Yes,” the interlocutor said thoughtfully, “perhaps the predictions of the prophets are beginning to come true. But this is a prediction of the Second Advent. Is this time really coming? How can I find out that Christ has come? Do you remember that when Jesus came for the first time, nobody believed for a long time that He was truly the Son of God. And now just look, many people name themselves Christs or say that they were sent by Christ as the Comforter. On the one hand, all of them say it is true according to the Bible, but on the other hand there is no trust in them. How can one tell the true Christ from the false Savior?”

“It is extremely easy. In fact, the Bible says that Jesus resurrected the dead and that it was enough for a sick person just to touch His clothes to recover. Judging from this, I think the most appropriate thing would be to use the Zen practice. For this purpose, it is enough to take a big and firm stick and to hit with all your force the one who names himself Christ. If the stick blossoms after that, it will mean that it was Christ. If that does not happen, it will mean that he was only a cheat. In that case, it would be nice to hit him one more time so that he does not take other people's glory again.”

We stood silently for some seconds and thought over the words we had heard. First, the novice took it seriously. But when he got the sense of these words, he burst out laughing with all his heart, and the crowd laughed as well.

“Perhaps that is the most effective method,” he said with a smile. “But seriously?”

“To put it seriously, you should not wait for Jesus to come as a human, for He will come as the Son of God into people's souls. And He will reign one thousand years as the King sitting on a throne of not only our souls but also our minds. Recall His words in the Gospel according to St. John, ‘God is a Spirit’; ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life: no man cometh to the Father, but by me’; ‘And I will pray the Father, and he will give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever; Even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and will be in you’; ‘At that day ye shall know that I am in my Father, and ye in me, and I in you.’”

The novice was silent for a while and then asked, “I wonder whether there will be an end to the world? Recently, the most different dates began to appear in newspapers. Our sect, as I understand, tries to match this date with predictions of various astrologists pointing to the date of the parade of the planets. So, I wonder when the Apocalypse will come, when will we appear before the justice of God at last?”

“You know, for two thousand years people have been waiting for the Armageddon and the Second Advent of Christ. Almost all religions are based on this idea that as soon as tomorrow the world will end and those who are not in their rows will all die in Gehenna. What can I tell you about this? Each human in his life experiences his personal Armageddon, but not everyone wins it and not even everyone understands that he faces this Armageddon. Therefore, you should not be afraid of the Apocalypse that will come for everybody, for it is easier to die all together. The main thing is to win your personal Armageddon and not to appear in that crowd.”

“That's right! I myself thought that we should do something now because it is unknown what will happen tomorrow. To tell the truth, the words that you have told me have somehow relieved my soul. This absolute uncertainty, all these horror stories are already getting on my nerves. But yet, I do not understand which religion do you belong to?”

“I do not profess and do not belong to any religion. I belong only to God,” Sensei replied simply.

After that, the conversation turned to more frank topics concerning the novice personally. I had the impression that the guy talked with Sensei as if they were alone in the universe. He told Sensei more and more about himself, about his life, as though there was no silent crowd, as though it had dissolved in the night. It seemed to me that both interlocutors were two tired wanderers who met by chance under a star's infinity. They were mutually absorbed in this conversation about the eternal, about the essence of things, as if all limits of space and time had disappeared.

“…It’s so amazing. You know, recently, for some reason, I was unlucky in finding a good spiritual guide. Either I was not satisfied with their answers, or they were not satisfied with my questions. During our constant disputes we, as they say, beat the air, milled the wind, spending our time in vain. But the things you say… I simply catch myself on the thought that I can not argue with you because it coincides with my internal conception of the world. It would be an honor for me to have such a Teacher if, of course, the Teacher considers it worthy to have such a disciple.”

“I would advise you to search for a teacher neither in me nor in anybody else. It is not because you are an unworthy disciple but because you yourself have much more of it. I see a spark in you. I would advise you to study everything yourself. Study sacred books of various religions and make for yourself a collective image of such ideas: who God is, what truth, belief, and miracles are and so on. Because if there were only one unique holy religion then all other people could not be saved and there would be no other miracles. But miracles of belief happen in other religions too. Moreover, if you have an opportunity, study psychology, biology, anatomy, morphology. It is also necessary to study astronomy, quantum physics, chemistry… In general, broaden your knowledge in the field of exact sciences as much as you can. I am sure that you will begin to understand what I want to tell you. Now you simply feel it, but then you will begin to understand. When you begin to understand it, you begin to understand God. And the best Teacher is God.”

That evening we got home on the last tram. It was already late, after midnight, but I simply could not fall asleep as I was completely shocked at this conversation with Sensei. My diary, as my best friend and silent interlocutor, took all the outpouring of my soul. Our dialogue of thoughts and writing continued until the morning. Only when the sun rose in the sky and the world began to wake up slightly, only then did the bed, which had been missing me for a long time, embrace my body with its soft coverlets. Thank God it was Sunday, that is, a national day off.

41

Time flew by quickly. The stressful time of final examinations began. People were a clot of nerves and sweat. Strange enough, but during this last year of my school life, I began to take this intense process more easily. After everything I had experienced, examinations seemed to be only an ordinary check of my knowledge but not a hard trial of destiny as many of my schoolmates considered them to be. When all this was over, when at last the long-awaited graduation party came, for a long time I still could not believe that my life goes on and that all this is not a dream.

Meeting at dawn with all our classmates in a picturesque place in the country, we started talking about professions we were going to choose. Many dreamt of becoming doctors, lawyers, economists, and businessmen. And when I was asked about it, I sincerely answered, “I want to become a Human.”

Of course, my classmates did not understand the sense of these words to the fullest extent, but many of them became more serious and thoughtful. Indeed, we stood at the beginning of our independent way of life, at the moment of our personal choice for our destiny. It was still up in the air how our destiny would change our lives. Looking closely at the destinies of different people who have already lived the greater part of their lives, it is possible to see that the net of their vital roads and footpaths sooner or later merge into one road, that is, an attempt to become a Human. For, as Sensei once said, it’s the true sense of our lives.

42

Because of a graduation party, unfortunately I had to miss a spiritual training. The next day, I phoned Tatyana, and she told me some very pleasant news. It appeared that Sensei was planning a week-long holiday, and the guys persuaded him to travel to the seaside with them. Even Nikolai Andreevich decided to use his days off from work, which he was saving for such a rare occasion of a round-the-clock dialogue with Sensei.

“I said that you would go too,” Tatyana said over the phone.

“That’s great, you’re a real friend! For sure, I won’t miss it.”

We decided to go in three cars: Sensei’s Zhiguli, Nikolai Andreevich’s Volga, and Andrew’s old Zaporozhets that he had borrowed from his grandfather. All necessary things were found collectively. Volodya promised to get tents. Stas and Eugene turned out to be passionate scuba divers and provided a supply of all fishing accessories, including an inflatable rubber dinghy. Tatyana and I took responsibility for the dishes, and Kostya was responsible for well water supply.

43

At the appointed day at five o'clock in the morning, rattling with our bowls and spoons, Tatyana and I crept along the silent streets. We came to a place of general meeting. Ruslan and Yura were already there. Then came Stas and Eugene. They told us that Sensei would be an hour later because he had worked until morning. The guys said that usually he does not stop until he cures the last patient. The endless queue at his door finally stopped growing at almost two o'clock in the morning. Obviously, people found out that the chiropractor was leaving for a week, so they came in droves. By five o'clock in the morning, Sensei had finally finished his reception.

A bit later, Andrew and Slava arrived in his grandfather's jalopy, which seemed to be as old as Andrew's grandfather himself. But Tatyana and I were happy to go even by such means of transportation. When you are in a good company, a Zaporozhets isn’t any worse than a Mercedes. We began to put things into the steel car top carrier, having filled a trunk with our luggage almost to the top.

“Well, Kostya will have to put his bag next to him,” Andrew said in a bossy way, barely able to close the trunk.

But when Kostya arrived, Andrew's jaw drooped. Kostya's luggage arrived by Volga together with a fully loaded trailer. As we helped unload these endless bags and sacks, Andrew almost lost his gift of speech. Helplessly waving his hands, he blew up at last:

“You are out of your mind! It looks like you are going to the North Pole. We are going for a week, and just the food you brought will be enough for three years! Moreover, these huge flasks filled with water! Sensei told you to take one, not four. Why not bring a tank!”

“To tell the truth, I wanted but I could not. There was no suitable transport,” Kostya answered with a smile, nodding at his father's Volga.

“You're nuts! Just tell me, where can I fit all this? What do you want me to do with these barrels?! Unless we attach them to the Zaporozhets instead of wheels?!”

“But Nikolai Andreevich seemed to promise he’d take something in his trailer.”

“That's it, he only ‘seemed to promise.’”

“OK, don't lose your cool, we’ll think of something.”

For good fifteen minutes, Andrew indignantly circled the huge heap of Kostya's treasure. But Kostya only laughed the matter off, saying, “I will see how your Excellency will thank my Majesty for unforgettable comfort at the seaside.”

While Andrew broke out in the next fountain of emotions, Tatyana asked Kostya, “Really, why did you pack so much?”

“Well, why not enjoy ourselves? I tried hard, not for myself but for everybody,” the ‘philosopher’ said cunningly. “In general, all this is only ashes and vanity.” Taking her gently around the waist, Kostya pensively said, “Of all, thy charming lips are most precious for me.”

“Oh, you,” Tatyana gently pushed him away and burst out with laughter.

Kostya made a suffering face and said with pathos, “Ah, pride of heart costs many torments!” Looking sideways at Tatyana, he added, “I have so hardly pulled my bowstring, / That I am afraid my bow will be broken!”

“He will not get away from me. I shall make it difficult for him,” Andrew casually said loudly, continuing to mutter to himself.

All of us roared with laughter as Sensei, Volodya, and Victor drove up. Looking at the huge heap of things, Sensei asked in confusion, “Guys, are you going to the North Pole?”

All our company burst out laughing again, but Andrew, having found an accomplice in Sensei, started to complain.

At last Nikolai Andreevich arrived with the long-awaited trailer. But it appeared that the trailer was too small for all of Kostya's goods. Somehow we pushed things into three cars and began to ram our bodies inside. Slava sat in Sensei's car. Tatyana and I placed ourselves among the bags on the back seat of the Zaporozhets. And Kostya as the most guilty person got a vacant seat. It was in front, near Andrew, on a sitting which was not only non-standard, very low, but it also rocked here and there being fastened with only one screw. So Kostya, because of his height, felt all the charm of the three-hour trip in the Zaporozhets. But the never-ending humor of our guys smoothed all discomfort with friendly, cheerful laughter.

Our Zaporozhets rumbled ahead of the whole column. Andrew tried to squeeze all possible force out of it by pressing the gas pedal. Sensei and the senior guys followed us, keeping a distance.

Nikolai Andreevich, being loaded up to the top, slowly drove somewhere behind Sensei. It was not enough for Andrew to head the line, so he made up his mind to show us that that Zaporozhets was the coolest car on the road. He began to overtake one car after another, speeding and throwing his chest out with pride. Kostya crossed himself for fun at these maneuvers, clutched at the front panel, and started to pray about the salvation of all drivers suffering from such an inveterate driver of this jalopy. We rushed forward a little bit. On the way we saw a small roadside market. In the distance, Tatyana saw strawberries in baskets on the ground and shouted to the guys through the noise of the roaring engine to stop the car. When we stopped at last, Kostya gave a sigh of relief trying to get out, as he said, from this tin in which he doubled himself up like a mackerel. To let us get out, Kostya had to drag out his armchair again. The whole market observed this comedy. Moreover when Kostya at last slammed the door, a mirror fell off of it. Andrew yelled at him as though he had ruined the most sacred thing, “Master's fist should strike your body and his leg should strike your muzzle! Who on earth slams a door like this?! For three days, I have been collecting this car from pieces. It is a valuable antique! You should treat it gently, like a woman…”

And there was more of a lecture on this topic. The guys dispersed in the market choosing berries. I remained near the Zaporozhets waiting for others. Sensei with the guys drove up, but when they got out of the car, something strange happened.

One woman, wearing a black kerchief, about forty-five years old, stood without any interest with her goods. Her eyes were red from tears. Having noticed Sensei, she hastily stepped over her berries, practically scattering them all over the ground with this motion. Having run up to Sensei, she fell down at his feet and began to implore him, lamenting in tears, “I beg you, Gabriel, take care of my sonny. How shall I live without him now?! Please, Gabriel, take me to him. I do not want this thrice cursed life any more, I do not want it! My God, have mercy on me, let me go to my sonny…”

I was standing very close by and saw how Sensei’s eyes changed. Some shine appeared in them, or more correctly, some soft, tender light that changed Sensei’s features. At this moment I felt that my lotus flower began to vibrate intensively. And this pulse force came not from my thoughts but, as it seemed to me, it came from Sensei. He bent over the woman, raising her.

“Rise, woman,” he told her in a very calm, quiet voice.

It seemed to me that his voice became somewhat unusual. The woman rose a little but did not stand up from her knees, continuing to beg him, but this time it was more quietly, looking directly in his eyes. Sensei tenderly put his hand on her head and said, “Do not worry, woman. Everything is fine with your Nikolai. He is a pious man. He has already been taken care of.”

The woman stretched her hands to him. Her eyes were lit with some sparkle of hope, but her face became stiffened in a single impulse of begging, “Let me, Gabriel, let me go to him…”

Such words of despair made me shiver. At this moment, Sensei’s face was covered with a light haze, and his face became even nicer because of it. My lotus flower pulsed even more.

“Everyone has his own time. You still need to take care of Ksyusha. You will be a guest at her wedding, you will await her firstborn, you will nurse him for a week. And on the ninth day, you will go to your Nikolai to tell him what a fine grandson he has got,” Sensei said calmly.

With each word of Sensei, the eyes of the woman became lighter and kinder. Teardrops of joy began to shine on her face. The woman broke into a smile. Not knowing how to express her gratitude, she began to fall down to his feet again. Sensei tried to raise her up from the ground. Then some old women who traded next to her ran up, lifted her from the ground, took her arms, and led her to the village saying, “Hush, Mashenka, dear, let's go, let's go home…”

The woman went quietly, with her face touched, whispering something to herself and constantly crossing herself. Other old women began to collect her scattered goods. All these events happened within one minute.

At this time, Nikolai Andreevich drove up. Having come up hastily to our motionless company with Yura and Ruslan, he inquired what had happened.

“Some old bag freaked out,” Eugene said, as he was standing far from the Teacher. “She fell to Sensei's feet, all in tears, asked something.”

Sensei silently lit a cigarette, after everything that had happened. When Nikolai Andreevich began to ask, he changed the topic to usual things, having answered shortly, “Yes, things happen in life. A woman is in sorrow.”

“I see… And why did you stop here? We did not plan it.” Nikolai Andreevich asked Kostya.

“Well, we wanted to buy some strawberries.”

Our company walked once again around the market with Sensei. Having chosen ripe berries, Sensei bought a big basket for all of us. Another old woman, packing strawberries into three packets, tenderly spoke to us.

“You, children, do not take offence. Not even a month has passed since the woman’s son Nikolai died in a crash. He was her only son, her hope and support. Her husband died a long time ago… And such sorrow again. He, her sonny, was so young. A little daughter of his remained, Oksana, she is five. Masha's destiny is a heavy one. She brought up her son almost alone, and now she has to support her granddaughter together with her daughter-in-law. I don’t understand what happened to her. She has absolutely lost her head from sorrow.”

“Yes,” Nikolai Andreevich agreed with sympathy. ”Stress can cause even worse mental disorders. I remember there was one case…”

Having listened to eloquent examples from his practice, my consciousness calmed down a little. “Well,” I thought, “it’s no wonder she rushed to the very first man.”

As we drove, the guys cheerfully chattered about their matters while eating ripe strawberries. During Kostya’s latest joke, it suddenly dawned on me. At this moment, I precisely recalled that woman’s babbling and Sensei’s answers. “Stop! She didn’t mention the name of her son, and moreover she did not say the name of her granddaughter. But Sensei precisely named Nikolai and Ksyusha. I nearly choked on a strawberry because of this discovery. I did not want to eat it any more.

Recalling Sensei’s face, my lotus started to vibrate again, distributing pleasant sensations all over my body. I physically felt the presence of Sensei nearby. More accurately, I did not feel Sensei himself, but I felt the force that came from him at that moment. And I felt so nice and cozy, as if someone had wrapped me up with soft petals. In this state of bliss I dozed off.