At an Older Altar (a story)

At an Older Altar

He set up his altar. Candles, tapers, wine, loaf, herbs, prayer book, and kneeling pad. Then he stripped himself to his waist and knelt before the altar, chanting to get himself into the right frame of mind, ready for prayer and meditation. And maybe more. He was hoping today would bring more than fevers and blessings. He wanted a vision and was readying himself for that.
So he pulled out his fave whip and made sure it was in it’s best supple state. It was a better hurt then.

At first it did hurt. Just hurt. But then he got into the groove and the right mindset. And the pain became more than the lashes on his back. It became an energy that was no longer on his body. But in his mind.

It grew in brightness. He was one with the pain. And he could hear the whispers that he sought. At first they were harder to understand. But with a firmer hand on the whip, he finally understood what they were saying. And relaxed into their message.

He began to sing in praise of the divine, until the divine began to sing thru him and his words were no longer his own. His witness wrote down what he sang. So the old ones could spread their message on earth.

…….

self flagellation, old believers

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