ARE WE THE ANTI-CHRIST WE MOST FEAR?
“Mommy, Mommy! Come and see!”
She had her hands full with an exuberant eight year old.
“Look!” I screamed, as I pointed up to the sky.
“What, Honey?” she asked.
“Can’t you see the distance between the stars?” I asked. “LOOK!”
I was frustrated. I could tell by the look on her face that she couldn’t. I had been stargazing again, something I did regularly with my blanket on the back steps of our house. But this particular night, something had changed for me. In one nanosecond, my vision had shifted and I had my first glimpse of infinity with no limitations. Mom shook her head, turned, and walked back into the house.
I had done a back flip out of her arms when I was a baby and landed on a silver box. The box was severely dented, but the doctor said that I was fine. Maybe that bump on the head was a blessing and perhaps that is why I saw things a little differently as a child. And I always felt temporary.
I always had a fascination with the moon, the stars, and the sky and I seemed to know things that no kid my age had business knowing. I was fascinated by the paranormal and was reading Psycho-Cybernetics at sixteen.
Mom and I had walked through the doors of many a church, chapel, and tabernacle as I was growing up. She was looking for something to give her peace of mind, I’m sure, but I somehow knew that it wasn’t in any of those buildings, or in the pages of a book. No priest, bishop, or pope would be able to change my mind.
“Our brains are limited,” I would tell her. She looked at me as if I were someone else’s child.
“We can’t understand something infinite, so how can we understand God?”
As a child, I would debate with Mormon ministers (and win.) And I would squirm in the pews of the Catholic church as I looked at Jesus hanging on the cross.
I was confused as I watched the parishioners sitting quietly in their piety and then running each other over as they tried to leave the parking lot. I wondered why nuns were so mean and why everything was a sin. It isn’t easy for any kid, let alone one who fell on her head.
But over the years, it didn’t get any easier for me. I met Christians who cheated on their spouses and chastised me for reading my horoscope. I watched the news and wondered why people were killing each other in the name of religion. It didn’t make sense to a kid and it doesn’t make sense to me now. How could that guarantee someone a place in heaven? There is no “them.” There is only “us.”
Something was wrong and incongruent. Wasn’t the Bible written by humans? How could they really know what or who God was? They were limited. I knew this because I had heard that all of us (Moses included) only use a tiny portion of our brains.
Then I started reading about Jesus. Wow. This was someone I could relate to. And I must have been reading a different bible because I was really excited. He could do anything. He performed miracles! And he told us that we could too! So why would anyone want to keep him hanging on a cross in a church? I wanted to take him down and play with him.
“Greater things than these shall ye do,” he said. And I would always remember those words. I much preferred that line of thinking rather than feeling like a sinner when I did just about anything that kids do.
Years later, when I was working at a cosmetic counter at Macy’s and we were expecting our “gifts with purchase” and my manager was having a meltdown because they hadn’t arrived, I thought of what Jesus had said.
“They are here,” I said confidently, remembering the loaves and the fishes parable.
“No, they are NOT here!” she wailed. “We checked the stock room and the warehouse and they are NOT here!”
Anxious customers were swarming the counter and I just smiled. “They are here,” I repeated. I could see them in my mind.
She glared at me, but as she turned around, one of the warehouse guys walked in with the precious cargo of boxes stacked up in his arms. There they were.
“But….” She stuttered, dumfounded. “How did you know?”
“Loaves and fishes,” I said, as I started to unpack the gifts, still grinning. She didn’t get it. It’s manifestation in the simplest sense and we could have learned this stuff two thousand years ago.
Why are we so surprised when there is a miraculous healing? We should be shocked when we get ill. Jesus healed the sick and he did it often. We were distinctly told that we were made in “His image.” Duh. God’s image. It isn’t rocket science, people.
It’s kindergarten, Golden rule, treat others the way we want to be treated stuff. Simple and childsplay.
In fact, we are told to become like little children. Do you know why babies cry when they arrive here? Because all of their needs were met in the womb. They didn’t have to talk or scream. Their host (ess) was divinely telepathic.
Separation from the host is painful. Think about it. And our pain is precisely about that as adults: separation from the host. Not just our mothers, but where we came from before we entered her body and became the nucleus of our own little universe. And now we (humanity) appears to have a deadly auto-immune disorder and is turning on itself, destroying precious parts of itself like vicious little Pac-men.
I loved the Book of Revelations and the stories of the anti-Christ when I was little. It frightened most people, but it was my favorite book of all. And now, with 2012 fast approaching, ancient prophecies and Hollywood movies feeding the apocalyptic flame, I think I know why it was. It was the final curtain and this bright, shining soul named Jesus who came to earth to teach us the very basics of life, help us perform miracles, show us how to understand infinity and transcend death two thousand years ago was giving us all of the clues and answers that we need to get through it all.
It is so simple. Why do we need to complicate things? Why do we need to limit and confuse the things we don’t understand? Now is the time to put these teachings into action. We are slow learners, but there is still time.
A question came to mind recently. I’m not sure why, but I was able to answer it very quickly. It was this. Would you give up your life if it meant that the rest of the world would live? My answer was yes. It was the lesson of compassion that I had learned from mankind’s amazing teacher. I never even realized that it was living deep inside my heart. Maybe my soul is finally outgrowing my skin.
We stuffed Jesus, the man who taught us everything we need to know, between the pages of a book, hanging him up on a cross instead of playing with him and learning from him. Every time we kill in the name of God, hurt one another, scare the hell out of our children by calling them sinners and making them squirm in their pews and wet their beds with nightmares about multiple sixes, discriminate against each other, shut down our natural state of compassion and unity, exclude instead of include, refuse to believe in miracles and heal ourselves, and realize that we are infinite beings, we should wonder….
Are WE the anti-Christ we most fear?
She had her hands full with an exuberant eight year old.
“Look!” I screamed, as I pointed up to the sky.
“What, Honey?” she asked.
“Can’t you see the distance between the stars?” I asked. “LOOK!”
I was frustrated. I could tell by the look on her face that she couldn’t. I had been stargazing again, something I did regularly with my blanket on the back steps of our house. But this particular night, something had changed for me. In one nanosecond, my vision had shifted and I had my first glimpse of infinity with no limitations. Mom shook her head, turned, and walked back into the house.
I had done a back flip out of her arms when I was a baby and landed on a silver box. The box was severely dented, but the doctor said that I was fine. Maybe that bump on the head was a blessing and perhaps that is why I saw things a little differently as a child. And I always felt temporary.
I always had a fascination with the moon, the stars, and the sky and I seemed to know things that no kid my age had business knowing. I was fascinated by the paranormal and was reading Psycho-Cybernetics at sixteen.
Mom and I had walked through the doors of many a church, chapel, and tabernacle as I was growing up. She was looking for something to give her peace of mind, I’m sure, but I somehow knew that it wasn’t in any of those buildings, or in the pages of a book. No priest, bishop, or pope would be able to change my mind.
“Our brains are limited,” I would tell her. She looked at me as if I were someone else’s child.
“We can’t understand something infinite, so how can we understand God?”
As a child, I would debate with Mormon ministers (and win.) And I would squirm in the pews of the Catholic church as I looked at Jesus hanging on the cross.
I was confused as I watched the parishioners sitting quietly in their piety and then running each other over as they tried to leave the parking lot. I wondered why nuns were so mean and why everything was a sin. It isn’t easy for any kid, let alone one who fell on her head.
But over the years, it didn’t get any easier for me. I met Christians who cheated on their spouses and chastised me for reading my horoscope. I watched the news and wondered why people were killing each other in the name of religion. It didn’t make sense to a kid and it doesn’t make sense to me now. How could that guarantee someone a place in heaven? There is no “them.” There is only “us.”
Something was wrong and incongruent. Wasn’t the Bible written by humans? How could they really know what or who God was? They were limited. I knew this because I had heard that all of us (Moses included) only use a tiny portion of our brains.
Then I started reading about Jesus. Wow. This was someone I could relate to. And I must have been reading a different bible because I was really excited. He could do anything. He performed miracles! And he told us that we could too! So why would anyone want to keep him hanging on a cross in a church? I wanted to take him down and play with him.
“Greater things than these shall ye do,” he said. And I would always remember those words. I much preferred that line of thinking rather than feeling like a sinner when I did just about anything that kids do.
Years later, when I was working at a cosmetic counter at Macy’s and we were expecting our “gifts with purchase” and my manager was having a meltdown because they hadn’t arrived, I thought of what Jesus had said.
“They are here,” I said confidently, remembering the loaves and the fishes parable.
“No, they are NOT here!” she wailed. “We checked the stock room and the warehouse and they are NOT here!”
Anxious customers were swarming the counter and I just smiled. “They are here,” I repeated. I could see them in my mind.
She glared at me, but as she turned around, one of the warehouse guys walked in with the precious cargo of boxes stacked up in his arms. There they were.
“But….” She stuttered, dumfounded. “How did you know?”
“Loaves and fishes,” I said, as I started to unpack the gifts, still grinning. She didn’t get it. It’s manifestation in the simplest sense and we could have learned this stuff two thousand years ago.
Why are we so surprised when there is a miraculous healing? We should be shocked when we get ill. Jesus healed the sick and he did it often. We were distinctly told that we were made in “His image.” Duh. God’s image. It isn’t rocket science, people.
It’s kindergarten, Golden rule, treat others the way we want to be treated stuff. Simple and childsplay.
In fact, we are told to become like little children. Do you know why babies cry when they arrive here? Because all of their needs were met in the womb. They didn’t have to talk or scream. Their host (ess) was divinely telepathic.
Separation from the host is painful. Think about it. And our pain is precisely about that as adults: separation from the host. Not just our mothers, but where we came from before we entered her body and became the nucleus of our own little universe. And now we (humanity) appears to have a deadly auto-immune disorder and is turning on itself, destroying precious parts of itself like vicious little Pac-men.
I loved the Book of Revelations and the stories of the anti-Christ when I was little. It frightened most people, but it was my favorite book of all. And now, with 2012 fast approaching, ancient prophecies and Hollywood movies feeding the apocalyptic flame, I think I know why it was. It was the final curtain and this bright, shining soul named Jesus who came to earth to teach us the very basics of life, help us perform miracles, show us how to understand infinity and transcend death two thousand years ago was giving us all of the clues and answers that we need to get through it all.
It is so simple. Why do we need to complicate things? Why do we need to limit and confuse the things we don’t understand? Now is the time to put these teachings into action. We are slow learners, but there is still time.
A question came to mind recently. I’m not sure why, but I was able to answer it very quickly. It was this. Would you give up your life if it meant that the rest of the world would live? My answer was yes. It was the lesson of compassion that I had learned from mankind’s amazing teacher. I never even realized that it was living deep inside my heart. Maybe my soul is finally outgrowing my skin.
We stuffed Jesus, the man who taught us everything we need to know, between the pages of a book, hanging him up on a cross instead of playing with him and learning from him. Every time we kill in the name of God, hurt one another, scare the hell out of our children by calling them sinners and making them squirm in their pews and wet their beds with nightmares about multiple sixes, discriminate against each other, shut down our natural state of compassion and unity, exclude instead of include, refuse to believe in miracles and heal ourselves, and realize that we are infinite beings, we should wonder….
Are WE the anti-Christ we most fear?
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