Tipareth, the Church at
Thyatira
Back in the Wilderness:
and the Rough Places, Plain
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The mansion of the morning
star flies
in tandem with the sun in his circuits; for its silver windows
are as the first clear reflection of that great light's brilliance.
Its towers are with him in the east when the sun arises in his
strength; they are with him, also, in the west, as he turns to
visit other lands. Always near him: if we see them not in his
appearances, their hiding brings no shame.
The glory of the sun outshines the mansion
of the morning, and he sometimes draws it too close against his
countenance for its lesser glory to be visible. Yet, it is very
bright, indeed: were it to pass before his face, it would not
greatly diminish the sun's shining. She who dwells therein may
linger in the night to carry some message to the moon; but she
is soon gone to rejoin her beloved, answering his call, and will
follow him beyond our certain knowing.
The lady of the morning star is known by some
on Earth as Aphrodite, the embodiment of love. We do not contest
their view of her; for it was occasioned by the aura of her soul,
and it was inevitable that those who could not fully probe her
mysteries should name her according to their perceptions of her.
She is Venus: called Beauty, by men of the West, and Tipareth,
by men of the East. She it is who has the care of all growing
things. Her first name was Chauwah.
Seven golden points she has upon her crown,
whose lights are mirrored seven times in the golden chain she
wears about her neck to soothe her fading memories of the dark
mountains she scaled on Earth in the early days, before she was
lifted from the seas. It is said by some that she was born from
the sea, arising full-grown from its ancient depths upon a shell.
This is so, but not strictly so.
She was first born past memory of mortal men
in the garden of bliss; her birth from the waters was as a second
birth: the beginning of her renewal in the mind of God. It is
told she will be carried in that shell-- as in an ark: again,
as in a chariot of fire-- through and beyond the center of all
things, to be seated, at the end of days, in her final place,
beyond the partings of all the veils.
At the inward points of her crown are seven
narrow windows that shine as silver paths upon her necklace below.
We call the light that rims these windows silver, but it is white
beyond white, the meeting of visible and invisible. The windows
begin as narrow paths of light; for she first entered the lighted
realms by narrow roads, which fanned and broadened inwardly to
converge as One, landing her safely in the circle of another,
denser firmament than we have known-- a sky capable of bearing
the negligible weight of such a one as she.
Neither is the mansion that lies beneath those
skies truly known to men: the firmament of her world was fashioned
as her covering. Neither could men live there, should they succeed
in their vain efforts to gain her world without her leave and
the consent of her beloved; for the jealous sun would blaze in
tireless wrath against their mortal frames, overwhelming their
every precaution, should they accost the dwelling of his love.
Selah.
Flying Arrow lay aside his flute and rested
quietly upon the earth. He had been watching his brother, the
hawk, climb higher and higher on the hunt, wishing he, too, might
fly. He wondered at his desire; for, truly, he was content as
the Great Father had made him.
The manitous were closer kin and flew higher
than the hawk; but he, as yet, had no desire to be as they-formless,
so it seemed, except in their appearances to men, when they assumed
the forms most convenient to their messages. He understood, at
last, that it was not the giddy freedom of his brother hawk he
coveted: he wanted simply to experience the currents of the sun's
breath as clearly as he felt the insistent warmth of its face
upon his own in the heat of the day.
Instantly upon his understanding, the hawk
began to dive. The more it fell, however, the higher Flying Arrow's
spirit arose within himself. It seemed his every memory was being
lifted up-- was changing, in the ascent, to truer images of themselves
than they had ever been on earth. Small, forgotten details of
unremembered days began to burst with meanings unimagined; and,
soon, he was asleep.
In the first beginning of his slumbers, he
saw his brother, Flying Arrow, laying quietly upon the earth
and looking up at him. As he looked more closely, he could see
the seven strands of silver as they began to travel outward from
the golden bowl surrounding Flying Arrow's head. The features
of his face, as from the seven doors, opened first into the silver
cord; and, soon, all of Flying Arrow appeared therein, to begin
the frequent climb beyond the sky.
How glorious the Great Father had made this
son of all the worlds! Water, earth, air, and fire, and even
things beyond hawk's knowing were as One to such as he. And yet,
it was as though the man, himself, did not know these things.
Many times the Great Father had commanded
the hawk to perch upon the arm of a manitou to signal its approach
unto a son of man who might not, otherwise, notice. Not even
this care was always sufficient to gain the attention of unthinking
men, however; for the manitous sometimes sounded their trumpets
through the hawk's cries to alert them of his coming. This nearly
always won the attention of men, but the hawk was not certain
that it also won their understanding of the significance of his
service.
The hawk began to dive against the serpent
crawling towards the feet of Flying Arrow, and the manitou freed
his servant to other service. Then, reaching out his right hand
from behind the outer veils, the manitou gently cradled the sleeping
man within his palm and began the long and intricate journey
to the Father of Lights. The man had been summoned before the
Throne beyond the heavens. He would speak, in later years, of
Unity.
Selah.
She remembered trying to explain to her first
teacher that there was no difference whatsoever between "t"
and "x." The teacher had mocked the child before the
whole class, saying, "And I suppose you would think that
there's no difference between an arrow and a bird, simply because
they both can fly and both have feathers!" If the teacher
had not taunted her with that particular rebuke, she might have
hated her forever; but in the child's later studies, she ran
across an Eastern parable that goes, "Words are birds; and
birds are arrows, to the wise."
As she thought on the teacher's words, she
realized that it was her own immaturity that had opened the door
for the teacher's treatment of her. She ought not to have said,
"whatsoever." She had followed the words, like arrows,
to the source of the disagreement. There were, indeed, differences
between "t" and "x," as she could now clearly
see; but the letters were not categorically different, just somewhat
different.
This last teacher had given the class a word
they had never before encountered. An ordinary problem, in itself;
but the class had been assigned to translate the new word from
the Hebrew without the help of a Hebrew dictionary. It seemed
so difficult, and it would be so easy to cheat! But "words
are birds," she remembered; and she decided to toss the
new word into the sky within her mind to see what it would do
and where it would land.
Tipareth:
taw/ , the first letter: numerical
value, 400; traditional significations: the four elements, the
four directions, composites of the four, completion, totality,
regeneration; phonetic equivalent: "t," "th."
pe/ , the second letter: numerical
value, 80; traditional significations: mouth, container, pit,
soul, face, personality; phonetic equivalent: "p,"
"f."
alef/ , the third letter: numerical
value, 1 or 1,000; traditional significations: ox, horns, seed,
power, beginning, principle; phonetic equivalent: "a."
resh/ , the fourth letter: numerical
value, 200; traditional significations: head, first appearance,
knowledge, intelligence, beauty, fortune, ruler; phonetic equivalent:
"r."
taw/ , the fifth letter: other
possible significations: continuation, sum, perfection, unity.
As she considered the problem before her,
she thought that she just might succeed, if she only knew a little
more! The values of the letters would begin to merge into a unified
concept in her mind, but some element was missing or-- as with
her earlier dilemma while facing comparison of "t"
and "x"-- not fully developed or expressed, thus preventing
completion of her assignment.
Throwing the letters once more into her mind,
she realized that their individual sounds were not united, as
in a word; and she reasoned, therefore, that the element of sound
was the source of her difficulty. She decided that she would
have to do some research on the functions and significances of
sound in language, and that it would be well to begin by better
understanding the words "phoneme" and "phonetic."
As she opened her English dictionary to the
appropriate place, her eyes fell on an alphabetical table entitled,
"Phoenician Alphabet." There, before her, were the
same number of letters as in the Hebrew, bearing the same names
and having the same numerical significations and phonetic renderings.
The Hebrew taw corresponded to the Phoenician "X",
also named taw, and also pronounced as "t,"
"th."
"It's really beautiful," she thought,
"how these things work out! If I learn the differences between
"x" and "t" well enough, I may end by learning
that I knew it all before I first began!"
As she mused upon the mysteries of knowledge
and of their foundations in the world of experience, a fragment
of verse composed by one of her school fellows came into her
thoughts without fanfare and without explanation: "I will
wear a purple shirt before I'm old: my spinning hands will whirl
the web's wheel around its axis, until the hub splits loose and
spills each single part unto its single destination. And then
I'll sigh, I think, and watch my body wrinkle in smiles."
Selah.
The aging monk watched his prayer wheel complete
a final turn and circle to a stop. It was time, again, to say,
"Amen." However much he troubled the waters above with
his mantras on behalf of the thousands who lived within his chakras,
the open center never moved-- however long its agitations might
continue! As had been his custom for many years, he would close
his prayers in the four lower realms, leaving their closing in
the four higher realms to the mind belonging to his body of light.
"Om mani pedme hum." As above, so
below. The fires of inner earth are quiet, and her pores are
open to the waters. "Om manye pedmehumn." As above,
so below. The waters have found the lowest place and are filling
every bowl. "Om." As above, so below. The waters, too,
are tranquil: they are open to the air. "Om." The air
is still: it is drinking. "Aom." The fire is burning
in the thin vapors of the upper air. "Aum."
He gently laid the prayer wheel beneath his
crossed legs and slowly crossed his arms. Tomorrow, the lilies
would open to the sky; the budded rose would learn her destiny
and service. Another interval of rest, and then the dawn. I charge
you, O daughters of the Chakras, that you stir not up, nor awake
my love, until he please.
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