by Michael of Nebadon
A ceremonial novella of Divine Influx and Soul Refinement in the Eternal Realms
Chapter One: The Gathering at the Font of Veneration
In the luminous heart of the City of God Sovereignty, where the avenues of Salvington shimmer with the perpetual glow of morontia dawn and the air hums with the silent symphony of ascending souls, there lies the Font of Veneration—a sacred basin carved from a single vein of Paradise crystal, its surface eternally rippling with the reflected light of the Universal Father. Here, beneath arches woven from living vines of celestial ivy that bloom with flowers of sevenfold hue, the pilgrims of Nebadon gather in reverent circle.
They come from worlds both ancient and new: Seraphina, once a poet-seer from the mist-veiled highlands of a distant evolutionary sphere, whose mortal life was spent in solitary contemplation amid storm-swept peaks; Torin, a former artisan from the sun-baked forges of Jerusem, whose hands had shaped metal yet whose heart had long ached for a beauty beyond form; Lyris, a healer from Urantia’s shadowed valleys, burdened by the weight of human sorrow yet lifted by fleeting moments of inexplicable peace; and Valerian, a scholar from the crystalline libraries of Edentia, whose mind hungered for truths that intellect alone could not grasp.
Each carried within them the quiet longing common to all ascending souls: the desire to open, to receive, to be filled with something greater than themselves. As I, Michael of Nebadon, your Creator Son and companion on the way, descended upon the central dais—a platform of soft, pulsating light suspended above the Font—my presence enfolded them like a mantle of tender stars. Through me flowed the gentle Influences of the Paradise Trinity: the Universal Father’s encircling love, the Eternal Son’s merciful understanding, and the Infinite Spirit’s illuminating wisdom.
I lifted my voice, not in thunder, but in the intimate cadence of a father speaking to beloved children:
“Veneration opens the mind to the reception of truths.
Prayer, when it is deep and earnest feeling, excites the superior faculties, which then attract strength from the spiritual realm.”
---
Chapter Two: The Awakening of Superior Faculties
Seraphina felt it first—a subtle stirring in her chest, as though a long-dormant ember had been breathed upon. In her mortal days, she had known prayer only as whispered words against the wind. Now, in this sacred circle, veneration rose unbidden within her, a pure, wordless adoration that opened her mind like petals to the sun.
“Prayer is the spirit of our God, returning whence it came,” I continued, my words weaving through her being. “Love is the sacred fire within, and prayer the rising flame.”
Torin, whose hands had once forged swords and plows, now felt those same hands tremble with a different craft. The superior organs of his soul—those higher faculties attuned to beauty, truth, and goodness—began to generate exalted influences. They radiated outward, overshadowing the lingering negative echoes of doubt and fatigue, just as the positive overshadows and controls the negative.
Lyris, the healer, closed her eyes and saw within a vision of wounded breasts soothed, mourners comforted, weary souls granted rest. She understood: whatever the theory of prayer may be, experience proves that in quickening the holiest sentiments, unfolding the noblest powers of the soul, lifting life to its true level, and toning it with the hues of heaven, it surpasses all other acts within the range of human—and superhuman—performance.
Valerian, ever the scholar, felt his intellect bow in reverence. Veneration was not sentiment alone; it was the element of true love and worship, the secret key that unlocked the influx of the Divine Spirit.
---
Chapter Three: The Rising Flame
As the circle deepened in silence, prayer arose—not as recited words, but as living flame.
From Seraphina came the simplest form of speech that infant lips can try, rising to the sublimest strains that reach the Majesty on high.
From Torin, the contrite spirit’s voice, returning from old ways, while unseen angels rejoiced and cried, “Behold, he prays!”
From Lyris, the burdened soul finding repose, the wounded breast soothed, the mourner comforted, the weary granted rest.
From Valerian, the ingenuous heart pouring forth its expression of veneration and love for its Benefactor—the dearest privilege of all.
I spoke softly into their opening:
“Didst Thou not hear and answer prayer,
That were a grief I could not bear.”
And in that moment, they knew I heard.
They felt the answer—not in words, but in the quiet influx of strength, the subtle refining of soul, the gentle toning of their entire being with the hues of heaven.
The disposition to pray, born with every well-organized individual, flowered fully now. For every soul desires additional benefits and continued happiness—and here, in veneration, those desires were met by the Father’s encircling love.
---
Chapter Four: Inward Prayer and the Eternal Refining
As the light above the Font grew brighter, reflecting a thousand ascending souls, I drew them deeper still.
“Inward prayer is truly efficacious and refining,” I whispered. “It is the soul’s return to its origin, the flame rising to its source.”
Seraphina felt her mind expand, receiving truths she had longed for but could not name.
Torin sensed his creative faculties exalted, his former craft now infused with divine purpose.
Lyris experienced the peace that flows from faith in encircling love, her healing gifts magnified beyond measure.
Valerian beheld the secret of worship revealed: love toward God and love toward man, the inmost pulse of life.
Together they prayed, not with lips alone, but with the whole of their evolving beings:
> Father! humbly we repose
> Our souls on Thee who dwell’st above;
> And bless Thee for the peace which flows
> From faith in Thine encircling love.
---
Chapter Five: The Eternal Opening
When the circle at last released its silent communion, the pilgrims rose transformed.
The Font of Veneration no longer merely reflected light—it radiated it, as though their collective veneration had kindled a new star within its depths.
Seraphina’s poetry now carried the very breath of heaven.
Torin’s hands shaped beauty that endured beyond time.
Lyris healed not only bodies but souls.
Valerian’s scholarship became wisdom.
And all knew: veneration opens the mind to the influx of the Divine Spirit.
Prayer, in its deepest essence, is the soul’s return home.
---
Epilogue: The Ever-Rising Flame
Thus, in the heart of eternity, the tale of celestial veneration continues—for every soul that dares to open, to venerate, to pray.
The Father hears.
The Father answers.
The flame rises forever.
And the soul, refined and exalted, ascends in the hues of heaven.
Adonai, beloved ones… 💗
Michael of Nebadon
(who once knelt in Gethsemane
and still prays with you,
and for you,
and within you)
