On a May night in 1373, a priest held a crucifix close to the face of Julian of Norwich while she lay sick near death. While gazing at the crucifix, Julian had a conversation with Jesus that night that lasted for hours. She named the mystical revelations explained to her that evening as her “showings”. Although these were made known to her as an individual, Julian realized that this information was not meant for just her alone, but for the entire world. The showings were later recounted in her book, Revelations of Divine Love, which is accepted as the first book written in English by a woman.
These revelations did not follow the path of church orthodoxy of the time, but rather were characterized as being more joyful, hopeful, universal wisdom. Her concepts were very controversial because of the lack of knowledge needed to understand them, that it took over 20 years before Revelations of Divine Love could really be understood by the Church, and more than 600 years for them to be accepted as being beneficial.
One of her more debated concepts was the idea of “oneing”.
“The soul is preciously knitted to Him in its making by a knot so subtle and so mighty that it is oned into God. In this oneing, it is made endlessly holy. Furthermore, He wants us to know that all the souls which are one day to be saved in heaven without end are knit in this same knot and united in this same union, and made holy in this one identical holiness”.
“In the sight of God all humans are oned, and one person is all people and all people are in one person” (Chapter 51).
As I begin to stretch out my strides, the cold air fills my nose, my throat, my chest, my entire being with a chill that only happens here. It rained the night before, so there’s that desert mix of dry shrubs, gravel, sandstone, and earth that creates a primeval scent. It’s cold, but I feel the most delicious cold joy that has every cell tingling with anticipation. As the predawn light intensifies, Joshua’s, juniper berries, manzanitas, and wild sage step out of the shadows, defining the desert’s depth.
I hit full stride as the air warms and I rush into the embrace of the desert. It has me now and my thoughts are captive. I’m running with freedom, here, in a place I call home, with a grateful, tearful inner presence. The gentle grade reins in my quickened pace as my breathing is now front and center. So, I slow to a steady cadence, my body synchronizes to a regulated breath and I savor the moment.
Scanning the desert while cruising with little effort evokes that perfect feeling that all runners seek in effortless miles.
I don’t ever want to stop, I can do this forever.
But then I see it. I’m about two miles into my run and there’s a miniature white A-frame off the side of the road. My attention focuses on the A-frame and I realize it’s a memorial tableau.
“I’ve never seen that before.”
The desert doesn’t bite on the invitation to reply and I’m left to ponder my discovery by myself. No quick answers here. Running forever will have to wait for another day as I remember my time commitment and I continue on. But now, I can’t get the image of the roadside memorial out of my head. It’s full light now as I make my turnaround and the slight downhill makes me that much faster. A quick glance at my watch confirms time enough to make a visit to the memorial.
It was last October when I was running on this same road, basking in the forever feeling, just as I am now. My reverie was interrupted by the desert speaking to me in an urgent, but patient tone. I learned an important lesson that day and I still think about that bit of wisdom today. Oneing was just an idea, a concept that I never really tried to incorporate into my daily life. I was wrong and the desert helped change my mind. Oneing is not just a thought, it’s how I am related to everything and everyone here in the desert. I heard a voice, an audible voice that day. Today, as I hurry to the little A-frame, my thoughts are focused on my past lesson and I wonder if there is something more I need to learn.
Bright pink flowers, in their plastic glory, assume their perch atop the A-frame. The A-frame itself is mounted to the upright and horizontal of a cross. Everything is painted in outdoor glossy white. Mounted to the middle of the cross, just beneath the apex of the A-frame is an open wooden scroll painted white with reddish lettering. The message is in Spanish but fortunately, plain enough for me to understand.
The memorial is for a young man named Jesus Naftali Garcia Gutierrez, born in 1982 and died in 2018. I’ve paused my watch, pausing the run, deciding to take more time with this beloved son, husband, brother and nephew, forever memorialized in red letters. It was just yesterday that he was by his loved ones’ sides, but they look forward to being with him tomorrow forever. Their beloved Jesus is in heaven, resting in peace, safe in the arms of his namesake, Jesus. While weighing the gravity of the red letters, I imagine what his life was like and wonder about his death. I sit down on the gravel, leaning in to take a closer look at each detail.
A clear glass vase lays on its side with the drying remnants of pink and orange flower petals. A miniature black faux iron fence guards the gravesite perimeter. Solar-powered lights point toward the A-frame, so even at night the memorial is always in the light. Weeds have overgrown the site, but the details of care are still plainly evident. Jesus Naftali Garcia Gutierrez is still loved.
I think about the man, Jesus Naftali Garcia Gutierrez, and the life he lived, who he was and continues to be for his family. The work in each detail of the memorial site speaks to the love that still exists here, a love that is still very much alive. I believe in an eternal soul so I also wonder if Jesus is here but in a different dimensional reality than us. I chuckle at the thought that it was his voice that spoke to me before and the metaphysical idea that this means that Jesus was speaking to me.
Is oneing just a mystical concept?
Or does the love held by the living extend beyond the limitations of life and death?
Did Jesus speak to me?
Ooooooh. so much gorgeousness here. Your heart, your wondering, your deep and sacred attention to the memorial of Jesus - both of them. I am with you here, you describe it so well and vividly, "that desert mix of dry shrubs, gravel, sandstone, and earth that creates a primeval scent....Joshua’s, juniper berries, manzanitas, and wild sage step out of the shadows, defining the desert’s depth. " Such a delicious description of the desert and of our oneness. Oneing. I love this. My husband said to me this morning, "there's a new study out that all beings, even bugs! have consciousness, are connected." My reply, "Duh."
Love your writing!