Just when you thought it was safe to read about the past again, a new insight rears its beautiful head.
In Chapter 7 (Rosicrucianism and the Great Lodges) of the above-noted book, I came across a quote which outlined the formation of the Fraternity of the Rose Cross:
“Their agreement was this: First. That none of them should profess any other thing than to cure the sick, and that gratis. 2. None of the posterity should be constrained to wear one certain type of habit, but therein to follow the custom of the country. 3. That every year upon the day C. they should meet together in the house S. Spiritus [i.e. of the Holy Spirit] or write the cause of his absence. 4. Every brother should look for a worthy person, who, after his decease, might succeed him. 5. The word C.R. would be their seal, mark, and character. 6. The Fraternity should remain secret one hundred years.”
OK. Of itself, this is no big deal, but then I got to thinking about why I have always avoided the subject of Rosicrucians and their Founder, Christian Rosenkreutz.
In 1990, or thereabouts, a friend drew a spiritual symbol for me. (And, in case you’re wondering, I have long since parted company with said drawing.) The image was of a wreath of rose stems, crossing the middle of the ‘circle’ and terminating in three different rose blooms: one was of a primrose; the second, a rosebud; and the third, a full bloom.
I remember at the time being seriously unimpressed by this gift, not because it was poorly drawn, or even insignificant, but because I was hoping for something more ‘substantial’.
Then it dawned on me, yesterday, after reading the first part of that chapter: “Holy Smokes, it’s the Rosy Cross!”
So who is this guy? Then the dominoes started falling into place. I was he (or I was associated with him), in the 14th Century. His life nicely fits into the gap between my Cathar existence (13th Century), and my fur-trading explorer’s life (17th Century).
The trigger? The building he renovated: Sanctus Spiritus. For years, I’ve pondered why I named my book of sonnets (written in 1984) Spiritus Sanctus. It only makes sense to me to think that I was echoing something from my past, because even as I thought of, and wrote, that title, I was aware that in Latin it would have been Spiritus Sancti (the Holy Spirit).
But that’s not all. I have always referred to myself and my belief system as Gnostic Christian. The thread runs too deeply for me to call myself anything else.
I wish I had that drawing now, to prove to all of you that someone’s vision showed me a hint about my past life. However it took a lot of years to pass before the ‘penny dropped‘. Maybe I had to grow up before it dawned on me. Isn’t life grand?