Friday, December 31, 2010

The Climate Crisis Fulfills Bible Prophecy of End Times

The Climate Crisis has made the prophecy in the Bible's Book of Revelations true.

Mysteriously, the Bible's prophecy fits the Climate Crisis like Cinderella's slipper, a prophetic perfect fit. And that's sort of fascinating, right?

Humanity is destabilizing the delicate sky and we are on-track to causing the End of the World. It's not over yet. If we stop burning oil and coal, we can save the world. But we must be honest about the SCALE of how much we have to win or lose. The Climate Crisis is an Armageddon battle royale', an epic struggle of good and evil, of planet life versus planet death. So far, the public and our politicians haven't faced up honestly to the SCALE of the problem because CLIMATE ACTIVISTS HAVE BEEN UNDER-SCARING THE CHILDREN by avoiding talk of planet death. Well, kids, let's dig into the Book of Revelation for some spooky talk about the End of the World.

Let me summarize the Book of Revelation, if that's even possible.

Bob Marley introduced me to The Book of Revelation. As a young person, I listened to Bob Marley incessantly. I was fascinated by his rebellious spirituality. Bob's last two records, Exodus and Uprising, were made after he was diagnosed with cancer. The albums were filled with Bible and spirit. As the Immaterial world promises to consume the Material world, wise people settle up with the Eternal. Bob was studying the Book of Revelation closely, and included hundreds of references into his songs.

The Bible's last chapter is John's vision of the End of the World, a wild dark spiritual vision, filled with strange prophecy and epic struggle between good and evil. It's a long, mysterious prophecy about the end of the world, the return of Christ, a battle of good and evil. There are dark metaphors about wine presses of blood. There are cosmic visions of a door opening from Heaven onto the Earth plane and a Supramental energy flowing into the world from the Godhead.

I read the Revelation many times. I was fascinated by it's snap, strange characters, prophetic possibility. The Revelation is a mash-up of images, possibilities and outcomes. It's not clear how it will go.

It's not necessarily the End of the World via Planetary Ecocide Death, but like R.E.M sang "It's the End of the World as We know it, and I feel Fine." Likewise, the 2012 Mayan prophecies predict the beginning of a new Cosmic Age rather than a sudden stop.

The Bible predicts a good outcome after the Armageddon struggle: the 100o year reign of Christ, an Age of Aquarius, a epoch of planetary enlightenment.

Try that trick from the movie "When Harry Met Sally", where Harry always reads a book's last page first, in case he dies before he finishes, then he knows how the story ends. The last page of the Bible's got it all, in cliff-note summary of a really groovy scene of a Christ-lit Age of Aquarius.

Anyway, if we don't stop climate change, we are all going to die. Humanity is in the closed garage with the car running, our shared air slowly poisoned by carbon monoxide. Death, destruction, abomination. It will be the End of the World, as we know it, and we won't feel fine. We'll be among the souls that the Universe views as wimpy, lazy, slacker douschebags because we didn't figure out away to save our beautiful blue green marble.

So open your Third Eye of Vision, the mark of the living God on the Forehead, and wake up to Climate Change and to your own soul's availability to feed you mojo from the Divine realms. All the angels surround you in your ability to do what's required at this magic moment of possibility, when the future pivots on our actions today when we work like horses and dogs to change our society's reckless profligate carbon-based lifestyles.

May the will of the Divine be achieved.




Thursday, December 30, 2010

Avoid Arguments to Maximize Healing

When we have arguments, our healing is set back.

Science has proven this to be so, documented in one place here: http://www.thrivingnow.com/arguments-dramatically-slow-wound-healing/

Today I was reminded of this after a stupid and habitual argument with a family "member". Afterwards I felt old wounds and sickness grimly brooding in my mind and flesh.

My family argues: deep grooves of old BS habitual conflict, high octane jousting and old fault line wound-finding. Not pleasant. It's a sad thing to be an adult and recognize in oneself all the dumb habits one perfected as a teenager while pitting mom against dad to get the car keys, I said "OK, then, I'll just hitchhike." Ahh, the perfect schism!

So friends, we are all wounded. We all love our side of an argument. We all are trained to be rational, brain-centered beings who want to argue our way to success. But really, we are emotional, heart-centered beings who are more swayed by emotion than logic. Fierce argument hurts us, and makes us go out of heart-resonance with our friends and allies.

I honor conflict as truth's snowplow, forcing motion to clear the way. Sometimes a rumble is necessary to rearrange the landscape. Sometimes there should be strong and clear and direct words to say what we need or don't want.

But often fights sit in our stomach and gnaw at our bones long afterwards. So let us resolve to not fight, especially about the dumb things, and to dehabitualize ourselves from tasty masochistic arguing.

Let our family relations sit on a foundation of peace coexistence and calm discussion.

May our healing be swift and unhindered by arguments.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Re-Inventing Christmas to save it

We adults are free to re-imagine Christmas in a way that pleases us. We are allowed to not buy anything. We may go to church or not, go to the in-laws or not, get a tree or not.

When you are a kid, you live amidst the rituals of your family and society, and there's little wiggle room. But as adults, it's completely pleasing to accept and reject the traditions that we love or hate.

I am agonized by the gluttonous consumption. Much of my distaste for Christmas comes from the TV ads, who snort all the beautiful holy and true and cough out tinsel to hang on their products. So I reject the consumerism and the buy-buy-buy. I saw a study that said people rarely had stuff they bought a year later, and Christmas gifts were even less likely to be retained. It's a small planet, people, we can't afford to be whole-hogging the resources that we don't need.

But as much as I hate the the corporate consumerist Christmas, and I groan at that season's arrival every year, so too, every year I am seduced by Christmas and it's ability to expose a deeper humanity.

Christmas is the one seasonal holiday in America that's really still observed society wide, everything closes, things slow down, people are nicer to each other because it would be dickish to be so douschy so near Christmas.

This year I've been going to Dorset's congregational church. It's a beautiful marble building, made in 1784, filled with tastefully psychedelic stain-glass windows. Further, the Holy Spirit is in the room there, one can feel it, a pulsing current, a deep hum. Last week they did a sweet Christmas pagent, with twenty kids playing the parts: sheep, wisemen, Mary, everybody. I like singing the hymns that somehow automatically catapult your consciousness into relationship with the Divine.

There are few young people in church these days. Perhaps if they felt more freedom to reinvent the traditions in a way that worked for them, they'd be more into it.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Spring Him: The Gospels According to Ocean's 13

Peter had the idea at first but it was Thomas who really ran with it. Peter was sort of daydreaming and said “What if we bribed the Roman guards?” And Thomas snapped out of his morose mood and was into a military planning mood in about two seconds flat.

“Holy One, God of the angels, look after your children in the here and now and please, please bless this endeavor” Thomas said, with a quick and sincere Inward turned invocation to the Divine. You know, first things first.

Then he turned to Peter, and said, “Good idea, brother. We are absolutely going to pull this off. God willing.”

The mood in the room changed pretty fast after that. We’d been a morose bunch since the Garden of Gesemany when the Romans had yanked Our Brother, with dogs barking and people crying. The religious elites and the Romans and the Banksters had conspired to put on that shady show trial. He was jail right then and set to be executed tomorrow. We had been feeling more than a little blue. But in an instant all that changed. A disciplined energy came over the team. We had been through some tight scenes before, and had pulled through, and that spirit had returned suddenly.

Everyone pulled up to the table, and started talking at once for about five seconds until Thomas yelled “shut up!”

Then we made the plan, and debated tactics and strategy as swift and orderly as we could.
“My sister grows the herbs that we can us to stop the bleeding on his hands. Comfrey, calendula flowers, rosemary. She probably knows a few others” I said.

“Good, Simon” said Thomas, “Get the herbs, but be cool about it. Don’t let her know what they are for. We can’t have the whole town knowing that this is going down, or the Romans will get tipped off.”

“How am I supposed to ask her which herbs to give us without telling her, Thomas? ‘Ah sis, so just hypothetically speakin, if I wanted to stop the bleeding gushing out of big holes in the center of somebodies hands, what herbs might be good for that?’” I said.

“Is she trustworthy?” asked Thomas.

“Yes” I said.

“OK, tell her but swear her to secrecy and she’s not to come tomorrow. The less people who know what we’re up to at the event, the better” said Thomas. He continued, “Bribing the Romans. Not an impossible task” hands in prayer position, beneath his lips, but eyes far-off in thought, thinking aloud, “A lot of those guys got stolen from their families by the Emperor’s army, and don’t give a damn about anything but wine and women, and maybe going home someday.”

“But, the officers, not so much” said John. “They can be a disciplined bunch. They have stuff to lose. Mostly they’re literate.”

We debated it for a while. In the end, we decided to bribe the soldiers and work around the officers. It seemed a better plan. The officers might not go for it or might demand more money than we could pull together. Besides, the trial was big news all over Judea, the elite were watching close. The money swine were still grumbling about the way Jesus turned over the tables at the temple. But we figured the soldiers would be more pliant. (As a backup plan, we decided to keep a big bag of gold in case we need to bribe the officer.)

We decided to offer them all gold coins worth 3 months of their pay upfront, to be followed by 20 gallons of wine and another 3 months pay if it went off. It was Peter, the fisherman, who had bribed a few Romans before, he worked up the deal. He was a hard-living guy before he got spiritualized. But you know how it is, the Lord turns your talents towards His purposes as He sees fit.

Luckily Our Brother had made some rich friends as he walked around healing everybody. Lazarus’s uncle had offered him a 10 acre fig plantation, but he had said just laughed and said “Thanks, but I’m into different fruit.” He made poor friends too, he just was a sort of a charming walking love factory. One of his main disciplines was a rich merchant, and he also had a cave outside of Jerusalem, that we agreed would be the perfect place to get Him well again afterwards.

We were a psyched and happy bunch that night. It seemed possible that we could get away with it. The Romans were notoriously easy to bribe. We could just get them to turn the other way at the last minute, and then boom, whisk him down, off we go, let him rest up for a few days, and then disappear back to India, where he could live out his days until he was a happy, old man with a big grey beard and some wrinkles but that same big smile. Maybe a few children running around, who knows?

A lot of it fell into place pretty quickly and with general agreement. Who to get the loot from, where to get the herbs, where to get the opium to knock him out with.

There was only disagreement about whether to tell Mary or not. Peter said “we just can’t tell her. She’s sweet. She won’t be able to fake it.

“It will break her heart if we don’t. We have to tell her.

“No! She’ll blow it. She’s an innocent, she’s not actor, she won’t put it off.

The debate got fierce.

Peter won in the debate in the end. Mary shouldn’t know, if she got super emotional at the event, it would help the show. Besides, she’d understand later.

We also decided to keep it under raps even from some of the other disciples. We were not the most trusting bunch after what happened with Judas. It’s true, he’d always been a bit of an outsider. Yashua had let him hang around because he wanted us to stretch our hearts. He said that if God wanted to redeem this guy, then who were we to say no.

Peter had never liked Judas and had given a lengthy discourse on how he was going to gut him like a fish and disembowel him. But by then, it wasn’t necessary. Sad, that whole thing. Betrayal. A backbiter. Bad ally etiquette. You gotta be a good ally to your friends. Stick with ‘em. Stick together. It’ s hard enough to get things done in this world, without the egomaniacs who don’t know how to work together.

So we decided to try and tell as few people as possible. The people who were at the first meeting were the one’s who know. It was about half. The others we’d let act as decoys.

There was debate about whether to tell Yeshua himself. We all knew the story of Socrates. That great teacher was condemned to death by hemlock and for the sake of truthfulness had taken it!

We decide to tell him. We figured that if he thought he was really dying he might hold out, but if he knew he was faking, he could just go into deep prayer and meditation and make the body like a corpse. He had learned some really super tricks in India. He could make his heartbeat slow way down. He could turn inward so deeply that you could poke him with a stick and he’d gaze at you with peaceful eyes. He’d be soon entranced in union with the Divine that the body was like toy boat on the surface of a deep, deep ocean, and he was identified with the ocean.

When to tell him, though? We decided to try and get him the message as soon as possible. We didn’t want to risk passing
information along through the jail. We’d figured we’d try to get him the message when he was carrying the cross through Jerusalem. If not, we’d say something at the hill when we fed him the opium drink.

Peter agreed to arrange from a doctor friend for a hefty dose of opium, a big pain killer, mixed with some kava kava root from the spice traders. That should keep him peaced out hopefully stop the trauma and shock from settling into his flesh. But also hopefully conscious enough so that he could meditate and do his super-samadhi trick.

We ended our meeting with one of the most intense prayer sessions of my life. Everybody was filled with sincerity, in part because we wanted it so bad and perhaps in part because we remembered Yashua telling us “A Sufi teacher named Ibrahim once told me ‘God hears all sincere prayers.’ And in my experience that has been true.”

The next day everybody reconvened over a working lunch of bread, olives, oil.

Peter said “It’s funny, when I first got the idea to spring him, it came in a sort of daydream. The idea was fully formed, complete and perfect, all filled in, nothing missing. I feel it was a kind of Divinely guided dream. In this vision, Yashua came to me and said, ‘what about pulling a sly one on the day? I’ll do my deep meditation yogic sleep technique and appear dead. You can convince the guards to pull me down early. The bigwig rabbis will race off for shabbat because of sunset, and then you’ll have a reason to pull me down. We can drag out the walk though town, making it a late arrival so sunset is closer. Down I go, and back to India. We have gotta win our victories.”

“But what if it’s God’s will?” said John.

“What do you mean?” said Thomas.

“What if it’s God’s will that he be sacrificed? You know, like say, as some kind of sacrificial lamb, a perfect sacrifice to atone for the sins of all mankind” said John.

“Our Brother is not a sacrifice animal. Besides, if God’s will that he dies, then we won’t get away with it tomorrow. And anyway, “I and the Father are One”, right?” said Thomas. “ Humanity and Divinity can reach union where they are of united will. Thy Will be done. We are surrendered fully, fully in service to God, and we want this, so why wouldn’t Our Father want it for us?”

The next day, John had gotten the herbs from his sister. The rich disciple with the cave had come up with the loot.

The Romans had Him walk through town with his cross. Peter approached him, slipped him the medicine, whispered “it’s all set up, just drag out the walk, deep meditate on the cross, and we’ll pull you down.” Yashua said “A fine plan. Thanks for listening” and winked.

When the first nail went in, He said “oh, that’s going to leave a mark!”

By the time he was on the cross the sun was setting. The crooked rabbis were there to see their dirty work was done, but as soon as the first nail went in, they turned and left for the shabbat meals and rituals. Perfect.

The Roman guards happily took our money. We pulled him down shortly after.

Putting the limp body into the wagon, and rolling away, when we were out of site of the Romans, Thomas whispered, “Are you with us brother?” Yashua smiled a little opened one eye and said “Is God good?” We shared a moment of intense happiness that was contained in a tight box of our acting sad still.

We took him up to the cave. He rested and got feed great food for 2 days. His hands were as big as melons, wrapped in bandages made of comfrey leaves.

Then Mary cut his hair and beard and we took him north to Galilee semi-hidden in the back of a wagon.

The funny thing was, the other disciples saw him on his way out of town, it was a dusty road, twilight, but they didn’t recognize him until afterwards. And then the tomb was empty, and there was a little bit of a stir about that. But nobody really thought much about it.

He was around for a few weeks, making a pass to say goodbye to a few beloveds.

He left town in a horse drawn cart, partying in the back with couple of us. I was playing the drum, Thomas the lute, He was chanting the holy names. When we got to the last knoll where you could see Jerusalem, He stood up on the back of the rolling cart and said “Goodbye Jerusalem, I love you. And you Romans and religious phonies, I got one word for you... Suckerfish!” We all laughed.

Some of the disciples followed him to India, to beautiful mountains and lakes of Kashmir, where He lived a long and happy life.