A View from the Other Side

Observations from the winged dude next door.

Archive for the tag “god”

The Brotherhood of Angels and Men, The Second Message

Okay, sorry for the big gap in going over The Brotherhood of Angels and Men, but I’m back on it. We’re up to The Second Message.

The Angels ask from you, not worship–for that would be inappropriate–but love…

Yes. Thank you Geoffrey Hodson. Worship creeps me out. Some of his stuff does wander pretty close to worship, especially since there’s this hard separation in his view between “us” and “them.” Just something to be aware of. But who doesn’t like to be spoken nicely to? To be brought fresh flowers and honored and appreciated and thanked?

Then he gets really gender specific about God the Father, so ignore that part obviously, but then:

The power of our prayers will be enhanced by being offered up with yours… our sphere of usefulness to God will be enlarged by sharing yours…

Very interesting. This is an angel telling this to a human person. Think about why this might be. What this means.

It’s not just 1+1=2, although that certainly would help. It’s two things: Malkuth, and synergy.

syn·er·gy
noun: synergy; plural noun: synergies; noun: synergism

  1. the interaction or cooperation of two or more organizations, substances, or other agents to produce a combined effect greater than the sum of their separate effects.

Angels need to connect fully with earthly, physical people in order to take that prayer back to the Source as powerfully as possible. People need angels for the same reason. Together, the partnership can do some incredible things.

It is often said, Kether (the “highest” Sephira) is in Malkuth and Malkuth is in Kether. As the receiving sphere of all the other Sephiroth, Malkuth gives tangible form to the other emanations. The Divine energy comes down and finds its expression in this plane, and our purpose as human beings is to bring that energy back around the circuit again and back up the Tree.

Aha. But let’s continue with Hodson:

The aim of the Brotherhood is to widen the range of human love by including the angels within its rosy glow, so that the concept of brotherhood, the keynote of the coming age, shall know no bounds, but widen to include all living things, mortal and immortal–the dwellers in the etheral worlds of air, fire, and water–the people of the limitless domains of Space.

The time approaches when they will no longer remain invisible to you.

I wish this time would damn well hurry up. Just think if everybody could see us, perceive what we’re about, hear us, and help make the world a better place before things reach a point of no return on this planet. Maybe we need to work harder at it.

Be of the same mind, one with another, for there is but one Life, boundless and inexhaustible, which is the very essence of you all.

Even though in the context of the book this was the message given to the angels, this is for both humans and angels to hear. Everybody is drinking from the same well. Partner up. Let’s ride.

We would light a fire in your hearts that you may feel the glow of the same great flame that burns within us, the flame of divine Life, that restores as it consumes, ever renewing its fiery power in the lives of those in whom it burns. That is the meaning of the angel life, this is the secret of the angel fire, the fire divine which burns continually; it is the flame which leaps from that immortal spark, our innermost Selves, which springs from the central fiery heart of the universe–the Spiritual Sun.

All your faculties will be increased, and all your powers enhanced, till life becomes an ecstasy, till unsuspected beauty reveals itself in everything, till undreamed-of capacity for love, for life, for happiness, arises within you.

The flame that burns within us. The secret of the angel fire. The spark divine at the heart of the universe. All your powers enhanced.

Well? Now what?

The Non-Hierarchy of Angels

I’ve been asked to talk about the hierarchy of angels, if there is one. Well… keep in mind that this is just what I know about it from my experiences, and others may experience other things. I’m not omniscient, I just work here—I don’t get shown everything.

There kind of isn’t one… and there kind of is.

Throw out that stupid thing some bored priests came up with however many hundreds of years ago. The “nine choirs” or whatever they call it. People need to put labels on things and put them in neat little boxes, that’s all that is.

It’s more like “power levels” than some kind of tidy filing cabinet drawers. There’s somebody like me, who hangs out on Earth with you guys, helping people, walking around in meatsuits sometimes, usually invisible but around more than you realize. There’s probably millions of us, with different names in different cultures. Angels, devas, guardians, guides, djab lwa, whatever label you like best.

Then there’s bigger guys, and I literally mean bigger. Like I only barely come up to their chest, and they’re a lot more powerful and closer to the Source. From this level up, I never get to see their faces. Often they won’t even let me look or give any indication of identity beyond general features and sometimes gender. I have no idea if this group has a specific name, they just “are,” and there’s a lot of them. Tens of thousands, maybe.

The archangels fall somewhere in there, but they’re interesting because sometimes they can walk beside you like a human, and sometimes they’re even more powerful and badass than the big guys I just mentioned. They’re a lot like the major vodou lwa, or the different gods of different places like Thor and Brigid and… whoever else. I’m not up on world mythology much, sorry.

Then there’s the ones that are right next to the Source. They’re so close that they almost never directly contact human beings and are pretty much made of Light. I capitalize Light here so you know it’s not the same kind of light as when you turn on a lamp. This is The Light, like the energy and power and love of what most people would call God. I prefer “the Source” over the word “God” because it’s the thing that just is, without the boxes religion tries to put on it. You can’t ever put this in a box, you can’t ever give it a name. It’s… impossible to describe, really.

So I guess there’s four major kinds of angels that I know of? And “angels” is just another convenient label too. We don’t all have wings, we aren’t all white people, we’re not all inside the Judeo-Christian thing. Do me a favor and bust out of those boxes. They’re too small to ever hold all this.

Leave a reply if you get it…

Why does God allow suffering? Look in the mirror.

There’s Love, and there’s Love

There are a lot of different kinds of love. You can love that great jacket. You can love your pets. Love your family. Love your soulmate that you can’t stand to be apart from for five minutes. And then there’s the love of the Source.

Love is too small and vague of a word for the Source. It IS love. It’s floating in liquid love that’s not liquid. It’s a golden light so thick and bright and flawless that it touches every particle of your being, inside and out. It’s perfect peace.

That’s what heaven is. Heaven is the love of the Source.

radiant heartImagine a shaft of sunlight coming through a window. A golden ray that radiates and warms and gives. That’s the connection you have with the Source. Most people lock it away, however. They keep the blinds closed up tight, if they even know the window is there at all.

Open.

It’s that simple, and that difficult. Get in a place that’s quiet, close your eyes, and find that window inside yourself. Then throw it open. Link in. Let it radiate and shine. Drink it in until you’re overflowing with it. Experience the deepest, highest, most intense, most perfect love there is. All you have to do it let it come.

The Light

“In pure consciousness, love radiates like light from a bonfire,
focused on none & denied to none.” – Deepak Chopra

Fighting Your Demons

Excerpt from The Kingdom, by John R. Mabry:

Without pausing to think, he blurted out, “I feel damned.”

She nodded as if expecting this answer. “By whom?” she asked.

He opened his mouth to say, “By God, of course,” but he knew before it had come out that that was not right. Damn her, he thought, she always knows just the right questions to ask.

He knew what the wrong answer was to the question, but not what the right one was. “I don’t know,” he finally breathed.

“Bullshit,” she said with an  affectionate smile. “’I don’t know’ always means, ‘I don’t want to say.’”

“But I really think I don’t. It’s just a feeling.”

“Okay,” she said, “Why don’t you tell me how you feel using other words?”

His gaze wandered off and became unfocused as he rooted about inside. “I feel completely fucked up inside.”

“That’s more like it,” she said. “What feels fucked up? I’ll make a list.” She held up her clipboard in a gesture of helpfulness.

“I don’t deserve to lead this order.”

“Why not?”

“I feel like a fake, an imposter. Like I’m just playing at being the Prior. I feel like a friar – I just don’t feel like a leader. I’m not… holy. I’m fucked up.”

She bent her head and scribbled with hands misshapen by arthritis. She looked up. “What else?”

“You aren’t going to try to talk me out of it?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Should I?”

He scowled at her. Her methods always took him offguard.

“I hate being bisexual.”

“Why?” She looked at him with real affection. It unnerved him.

“Because I don’t know who the hell I am. I don’t understand myself. I can’t seem to commit to men or women. I feel…”

“Don’t say ‘damned,’” she warned.

“Okay, I feel…” but there wasn’t another word. “Set up? I feel set up by God. For failure.”

She wrote. “Good, good. This is all good. Anything else?”

“What–?” In what way was this good? he wondered. He teetered on the brink of exasperation with her. But he gave in and continued to play it her way. “Yes, I drink too much. I worry about myself. About being an addict.”

She looked up from her clipboard and Richard could see the emotion in the corners of her eyes.

“Let’s pray!” she announced, grabbing his hand.

Richard resisted inside, hating at that moment the roller-coaster ride that every session with Mother Maggie turned out to be. Yet for being such a workout, they were almost always transformative, and it was with great effort that he tried to get his ego, fears, and resistances out of the way. Not that there was any way to stop her. She had already turned her face to heaven and parted her hands, her misshapen palms held upwards in entreaty to God.

“Lord of Heaven, we give thee joyful thanks for the gift thou has given Father Richard, thy servant, in the form of these icky feelings. We thank thee for his feelings of damnation, for because of them he will never presume himself to be superior to anyone. He will not think he is special, or elect, or somehow favored by thee over another. We thank thee that he feels like a fake, for then he will never assume that he knows what he is doing, and will never make bullshit pronouncements about what you allegedly want. For these gifts of humility we give you hearty thanks–”

Ouch, Richard thought.

“We thank thee for his bisexuality, for his confusion and struggle, for thou hast given him the special gift of being able to love all peoples, regardless of their genitalia–”

Richard winced painfully but restrained himself from interrupting.

“And finally we thank thee for his troubled relationship with alcohol, for the longing for transcendence it represents. We thank thee that he can empathize with all those who fight against the unseen forces of addiction, and that he is brave enough to speak it aloud to himself, to me, and to thee. And we thank thee for Richard’s vulnerability, that he is fully human, even as the rest of us are, and we ask thee to comfort him, to see himself as the blessing to the world thou hast made him to be, even in the midst of his petty afflictions. Amen.”

“Fuck you, Maggie. Sometimes I really hate you.”

“The truth is often painful.” she patted his hand lovingly. “But it’s good to take everything to God in prayer. Do you want some advice?”

“Do I have a choice?” he asked.

“This insecurity of yours is a form of arrogance–”

“What are you talk–”

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me, you little coward.”

Richard sat up as if he had been punched in the gut. Maggie continued, smiling beautifically. “If you think your puny sins – or even your worst ones – are powerful enough to invalidate or overpower the love of God, then you are as full of shit as my composter.”

She leaned in until her red and pudgy face was almost touching his. “You can choose to love yourself as God loves you,  or you can suffer. Your choice. But as long as you fight your demons you Will. Be. Fighting.”

Stop That Groveling!

God as visualized by Monty Python

“Oh, don’t grovel! If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s people groveling.”

God: “Every time I try to talk to someone it’s “sorry this” and “forgive me that” and “I’m not worthy”… what are you doing now?”

King Arthur: “Averting our eyes, O Lord.”

God: “Well, don’t. It’s just like those miserable psalms, always so depressing. Now knock it off!”

Has this ever happened to you? You’re going along, minding your own business, when an angel or some other spirit shows up. Then, if you’re like most people out there, you’re bowing your head and going on about how you’re “not worthy.”

So let me get this straight. A gift has just been handed to you, presumably by a Higher Power, and the first thing you do is second-guess this higher power and reject the gift.

Essentially, you’re saying you know what’s better for you than God does. Which is pretty arrogant, when you think about it.

People used to learn, in polite society, how to graciously accept gifts. It should be the highest compliment and statement of faith in you as a person that the Source has seen fit to give you a gift of that magnitude. Swallow your ego and accept it with gratitude!

It seems like a paradox, though, doesn’t it? You feel completely unworthy of something that proves exactly how worthy you really are. I know, you’ve been trained most of your life that you’re worthless, never good enough, unworthy of things like your father’s approval or hugs from your mother. Maybe you’re a younger sibling that just got hand-me-downs and that taught you that you weren’t even worthy of your own new clothes and toys.

This may come as a shock, but you’re an adult now. All that crap is in the past. You don’t need your parents’ approval any more, you can do whatever you want. This is YOUR life, and if God says you get to talk to an angel, accept the gift graciously and get on with the work at hand. Same goes for any other gifts that are rejected based on your own personal “worthiness” meter. Break the meter and recognize the gift, the opportunity, that you’ve been given. Own it. Use it. Embrace it. Smile and say thank you.

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