“It truly won’t matter where I go, because we will always be together in the kingdom of God,” Thomas recited the lines that Yeshua had given him. He pulled the cloth off of the covered basket in front of him. He lifted a large, flat mushroom cap out of the basket and held it in front of him, “Here is one of the many keys to the kingdom of God. Whenever you gather together and eat of it, you will have access to me as I will have access to you. Flesh of my flesh. Blood of my blood. Eat it and we will be joined together in the kingdom of God.” He broke the mushroom cap that he held in half, then passed the basket around the table until everyone had one.
Once the contents of the basket had been spread evenly among them and consumed, Thomas removed the cloth that covered the pitcher. It contained a thick, reddish, oily brew made from a combination of bitter herbs and flower extracts procured from the followers of John the Baptist. He poured some of it into a stone bowl.
“Since we can always find each other in God’s kingdom,” Thomas quoted his brother’s words, “It is like having everlasting life. This cup is the blood of everlasting life. Drink from it and find yourself with me in the kingdom of God. Do this whenever you miss me if we should become separated.” He took a mighty gulp and then passed it to John on his right and then back to Simon on his left. Once it had been around the u-shaped table and drained it was filled from the pitcher three more times. By the time the fourth cup was emptied, the sacraments had already begun having their effect.
The room began to recede from view, then came back into an extremely colorful and kaleidoscopic focus. The room and all of its contents were breathing with the holy spirit. Links between the self and what lies outside the self began to dissolve. Rather than a gate opening, the revelation of the kingdom of God was more like a curtain being swept aside.
Identity slipped and the truth fell. Laughter at the view through others’ eyes. Laughter at the crudely twisted crutch called language. Laughter at the childish idea of death, like a baby fearing that a parent who has walked into the next room will never return. The kingdom of God is always here and the kingdom of God is everlasting, but they had forgotten. Now they remembered brightly and laughed at their everyday concerns and their foolish and obsessive fear of the bogeyman known as death.
Literature in Small Doses 