I was walking with a friend recently, relating to her some of my experience two years ago when I began the year with a prayer to the universe. I prayed out loud every morning asking for liberation, whatever it takes. Apparently, for me it took getting cancer. Not what I had in mind, but I trusted the universe and embraced the experience as the unfolding of the answer to my prayer. Indeed, I was blessed that year with a shift of consciousness that was liberating, a shift that has been the foundation of my life ever since.
I brought up the image of the mercy seat. In the Hebrew Bible, God gives directions to Moses to build a temple. Within the temple, in the most sacred inner room, Moses is instructed to build a “mercy seat” of pure gold and to place it above the ark of the covenant. “There I will meet with you,” promises God.
I am no Bible scholar, so my mind is uncomplicated by specific knowledge about this seat. In my imagination, the mercy seat is the thin place where we encounter the divine (by whatever name we choose). God does not meet with us on the seat of judgment, or the seat of vengeance. There is no separation here, no hatred, no fear.
I spent a lot of time that year sitting on that seat, bathed in the light of divine love, filled with the basic goodness of the universe. My spirit was purified and mercy spilled over like a golden fountain, flowing wherever I held judgment and condemnation, washing away everything that is born of fear, imbuing what had been dark with a light so brilliant that nothing was left in shadow. It was a year of compassion, protection, guidance, trust, illumination, courage, reassurance, gentleness, expansion, blessings, and peace, even in the midst of circumstances that I would not have chosen. My prayer had been answered and I was grateful.
I looked at my friend and confided my feeling that since that year, I have never gotten up off that seat.
“Why would you?” she asked.
Indeed. Why would I?
YES
My spirit was purified and mercy spilled over like a golden fountain, flowing wherever I held judgment and condemnation, washing away everything that is born of fear, imbuing what had been dark with a light so brilliant that nothing was left in shadow. It was a year of compassion, protection, guidance, trust, illumination, courage, reassurance, gentleness, expansion, blessings, and peace,
Thanks Esther!
I needed to read this thought on the mercy seat today. For various reasons I am struggling with a bit of depression and lost direction at the moment.
This supportive image and the way to bring it into daily focus gives me the boost I need.
So glad it was helpful, Bob. These fallow, liminal spaces can be challenging. I’m here anytime to help however I can.
Is this bliss? I would hope for such grace in difficult circumstances.
That’s an interesting question, Mona. Bliss? Hmm, there are certainly blissful moments. I might use the word peace. Our circumstances might not always be peaceful, but we can move from the periphery, where the storm is most violent, into the center, the eye, where peace is always present. Would like to hear more of your thoughts on this concept of bliss.
As I read the 4th paragraph, bliss came to mind. To be bathed in the light of divine love in spite of hardships; to have mercy flowing in the place of judgement perhaps stemming from fear; to be surrounded by compassion, protection, guidance, trust, illumination, courage, reassurance, gentleness, expansion, blessings, and peace – this all speaks to me of ascension in an altruistic sense. And to me, that speaks of bliss
Thank you for the additional reflection, Mona. By your description, then yes, what I was blessed with was bliss indeed.