On November 20 I posted a story “Painmakers Get to Paradise Too”, about my sister BJ.
To sum up briefly, BJ has lived a miserable life filled to the top with efforts to harm other people in a variety of ways, always going behind their backs, always like a shark coming up from beneath, unsuspected, striking suddenly and leaving the victim bleeding badly and profoundly confused as to what happened.
One day, back when we were trying to be friends (something I have given up on nowadays, however), she talked to me frankly about aspects of her life. One of the things she told me was that she was sure she would go to Hell. Surprised – because we were raised as atheists and I had no awareness of her spiritual beliefs – I asked her why she thought that. She replied, “Because of all the things I have done to other people.”
I thought, Wow, she is aware of her bad behavior. I guess I had always thought somehow she didn’t know what she was doing, but she really did. BJ has been diagnosed, long ago, with schizophrenia. Maybe, if you read about our childhood in my book on this blog, perhaps you can understand that.
I could not understand how she could go on living the way she did, doing these things. But it was a couple of years later, after she had begged to be reinstated into my life as a friend once more, when I let her in again (like an idiot) and she tried to frame me for a murder she planned to commit, that I finally realized she had to go, once and for all.
Never again would I sit and drink coffee with her, trying to find some ground for a genuine relationship. Of course, I went to the police and her bad intentions at that time came to an abrupt halt. If God had not guided my thoughts and if she had not told me all she had done to others in her life, I would have been a perfect victim…and instead of blogging here tonight, I would be serving a long sentence in a penitentiary for a crime I would never have even thought of committing. I often thank God for my freedom and for saving me from that fate. And I wonder how many people are wrongly in prison, victims of some crazy family member who gets high on manipulating the fate of others?
But that is not what I want to write about tonight, really. After being asked by my Guides to go to BJ in spirit and offer to take her to the Afterlife for a visit, to The Park, where our father is living, I made the amazing discovery that by being there, by finding welcome and happiness waiting for us at the end of this existence, instead of suffering and punishment, she was overwhelmed with relief and joy.
I actually felt the relief and joy that filled her soul that night. I finally understood the burden she carries, knowing all the harm she has done to others, (and I know only a small fraction of it). To labor under the belief that she has made herself unlovable and now to discover that, after all, she is profoundly and ineffably beloved! Even knowing how many awful things she has done in this life…yet she is absolutely accepted and loved!
As I settled down into the evening tonight, I wondered what I could find to write about tonight. My attention was drawn to Bruce Moen’s book, “Voyage to Curiosity’s Father”. Picking it up, it fell open to Chapter 20, Hollow Heavens.
This chapter is about Moen’s trip to the Afterlife to ask about the topic of the false Heavens we create by our beliefs here on earth, and which are ready and waiting for us when we leave our bodies.
Just as we create everything in our lives here and over There, so we also create the Heavens and Hells of our particular Church‘s belief systems. So if you are a Baptist, or a Free Presbyterian as so many Highland Scots are in the part of Scotland I lived in for several years, the exact Heaven described in your religion will be awaiting you upon your earthly demise. Same if you are a Roman Catholic or a Muslim. Your “reward” will be exactly as you have been taught and as you firmly believe.
Not to denigrate these creations: churches and holy books help us get through a difficult life experience, and also provide guidelines and boundaries for behavior, making life more orderly and manageable, as a general rule. Of course, being human, we often create religious rules that cause life to go off the rails in many ways, and often, the more extreme the rules, the more pure and religious we feel.
Thus we create these “hollow heavens” as they call them Over There. We do eventually move beyond that level of understanding and then realize the Heaven we have been living in There is a construct, like everything else, and has its limitations. For our development toward greater and greater Pure Unconditional Love continues as we are drawn more closely into the company of the Author of that Love, even long after death.
I read that chapter with great interest, being a Survivor of the great Born Again experience myself and having lived to tell the tale, before leaving my current body!
But I continued on into Chapter 21, “Sylvia’s Graduation”, about a woman who sounds somewhat like my sister BJ. Everyone who knew her would have expected her to be in Hell after she died, not in Heaven at all…yet shortly after her death on earth, she not only was in the presence of divine Love, but also had so rapidly opened her heart to Pure Unconditional Love, passing milestone after milestone in deep growth, that she had herself become a Light Being…an Angel!
Those who knew how to travel in the Afterlife, and had known Sylvia, were amazed and found it hard to understand. The consciousness worker who was talking with Moen about all this explained to him how it came about.
The chapter was tremendously moving for me as I thought about BJ and her response to the visit with our Dad in the Afterlife that night, November 20, when my Guides instructed me to take her there for a visit.
As a result of taking her there and FEELING her feelings of joy and relief, I realized how far off the track I myself had fallen since the day I first discovered the Love of God that long ago day, in 1966 I believe it was. Or thereabouts.
Having been raised as an atheist in a Communist home, I had felt the pull of religion and a search for God in my early 20’s, whoever or whatever that Being might be. In many ways, my entry into the world of churches was a major disaster in my life, but without any kind of Mentor to guide me, there seemed no other way to learn about God.
Hearing about a visiting Missionary who was speaking at a local Baptist Church, I decided to attend and listen. I might learn something important, I hoped.
During his talk, as I sat in the congregation, a complete stranger to any kind of Christian (or any other) religious doctrine, I had a Vision. As I faced the lecturn, listening closely, suddenly the figure of Jesus Christ appeared above the congregation and he was looking right at me. As he looked at me, I felt the most terrific, delightful, soul-filling and very welcome sense of being Loved, Welcome, and totally Accepted. I just simply felt the presence of the person Christians call Jesus. A very simple, plain, unworldly kind of person. Deeply loving and deeply Inclusive. Not complicated. Not an academic. Not scary. Just a great big wonderful family member in the most fulfilling sense of the word. Reaching out to take me into his arms, no holding back. Total, beautiful, wonderful Love.
I responsed from my heart. I did not have any concept of Sin, or being Saved from Sin or any of that. That doctrine remained incomprehensible to me, even long after I had left the church, full of fury and bitterness against the whole miserable religious movement. It was years and years before I understood what Christians actually believe. By then, I certainly no longer cared.
But Jesus still remained an impossibly beautiful, gentle, approachable, flawless person, available to me. No matter what any church was or was not doing. He was, however, not related to any sin problem. The concept of the Cross I always considered greatly suspect and of course today I absolutely reject.
But on that day, finally, a sane, solid, orderly, reliable person…who had even been a full human being, like me…came into my life. I threw myself at him, holding on for dear life.
Of course, the church thought I was converted, I was a miracle, and took me into its bosom. In that bosom, as the years passed, I found only a nest of vipers and finally fled for once and all. But my love for Jesus remained unchallenged and intact, no matter what. He is so reliable, you see. He isn’t nuts, you see! Such a sweet relief in this world!
But I am trying to explain how it was that I went off the rails in my Love comprehension. It was taking BJ to The Park on November 20 that re-awakened me to its simplicity and purity.
For as I read Chapter 21 tonight, “Sylvia’s Graduation”, I remembered at last!! After ALL these years, I remembered that day, when Jesus appeared to me, offering a sanctuary of sanity, order, reliability, deep family Love and total, unhindred acceptance. Whatever anyone else believed about him, I knew him to be Mine. Mine. And I was His, as family belong to each other. That has never changed. But it doesn’t fit Christian doctrine.
Jesus plays a part in Chapter 20, Hollow Heavens, too. For the light beings trying to reach those who are trapped in these pretend Heavens, filled with the same old religious rules and doctrines they “enjoyed” on earth, have to appear in a form that speaks to these souls. It’s time for them to move on to something greater than those narrow beliefs, time to open themselves to a greater degree of Pure Unconditional Love. So they often choose the figure of Jesus as the suitable Vison to appear before those congregations. They don the shape and voice of their Savior to these people, who are burdened down with rules just as they were in their earthly lives. Thus, they are able to get their attention and draw one or two at a time out from that crowd to be willing to expand into a greater kind of Love, a greater Heaven. Into the wide expanses of the Afterlife and all the options and choices it offers for a fuller experience of a heart-filled life, a greater experience of God’s Pure Unconditional Love.
And having said all that, I still can’t pretend to know who or what God is. But I am closer than I was that day when I walked into that strange, alien Baptist church long ago in the sixties. For I find the God-force not in the worn pages of my long-ago Bible, which I seldom even dust off anymore. I find that deeply alive and profoundly trustworthy emotional experience of God in my heart, which I am always learning about and taking to higher places.
Thank God. For the Love of God. In this crazy world.