Category Archives: spirituality

Will the real God please stand up? I can’t believe you’re in this story

A sermon for Petertide 2020

I was ironing this morning, listening to an online broadcast of the Bible. I was letting the beautifully read words tumble round me, as a housework-doing lullaby, until my attention was caught. Now I quite like to hear (and better yet, read out myself) about some Old Testament smiting, but this story from Numbers 16 swiftly wound me up.

It’s thrown out my day!

For morning prayer soon become Morning Jaw Grind.

I’d forgotten this story of Moses and the Children of Israel. Wasn’t Korah right to question why all the leading of this nomadic tribe was done by one person, and his brother? According to the Jewish Midrash, which has extra details, there were many laws that Korah and others wondered about. Were all these procedures necessary?

And so what is usually spoken about as a rebellion occurs. Korah whips up considerable support.

And I felt myself wanting to join him. Had God really ordained only two nepotistic leaders out of this people?

Moses says that God says (mm) to gather before the Lord and he’ll show you. Only the right incense will burn. And then, to really prove it’s God, he’ll zap the offending parties by swallowing them into the ground.

This apparently is merciful: God at first wants to kill the whole tribe, sans Moses, who intervenes and says: will you destroy us all because of one person?

So God just isolates the trouble makers.

We’re supposed to gleefully glean: don’t disobey God then, and don’t question your leaders and the many rules you may have. What God ordains is how it should be.

The Midrash adds a bit about Aaron’s staff flourishing in the holy of holies, to extra prove the point.

I suspect that religious leaders love this story and would like their own staff (or mitres) to be put somewhere special for a miracle to occur. What a great support for theocracy! And for status quo.

But I felt really angry at this and once again wondered: who is this god of the Old Testament, and some of the new?! Why would I bother with him? He’s an unjust bully with none of the qualities that I’d expect in a real god.

Note that I don’t give that deity – if that he be – a capital letter, any more than I will the established church, which I recently publicly left.

I’ve got cross with this leading character in the Hebrew part of the Bible so often that I find it a hard book to read.

So I snapped to God whilst I pressed down on my clothes extra hard and swerved about with extra vigour, why did you do that?

And God said, That wasn’t me.

Phew, I thought so.

So who is this Yahweh of the Bible? I’ve long wondered if the two Hebrew names for God in the OT relate to two different deities, or sets of them. Elohim means Gods, plural, although I was always taught that of course there is but one God, triune and super powerful. But I’m wondering… Elohim is used when in English we see “God”. And then the other secret Jewish name is Yahweh or Jehovah, denoted by Lord in small capitals. Do these behave differently in the text? Are they the same God?

In my research, I am finding a picture that doesn’t fit with the monotheistic one.

The God of Israel sounds more tribal and local, just like everyone else’s god.

He sounds like the pantheons of gods in Xena: Warrior Princess – self serving, fickle and not entirely effective. And as I eat from bowls other than mainstream Christianity, I’m meeting various goddesses, sometimes with different names in different cultures. And the Christian/Jewish God has more in common with Zeus and Ares at times.

How would it be to follow a god who needed placating and who put many rules on you?

A god you couldn’t question or you’d publicly be executed?

Yet some believe we’re waking up to our own inner divinity and that we can do what gods can too, so there isn’t this unequal power balance out in the universe: serve me, or else.

I also believe that what Woo Woo people call Source or Spirit is the real God and the person whom Christians, Jews, and Muslims address. I think He/She picks up the phone to whomever dials.

But we have a holy book all about the shenanigans of someone else. In my second novel I say that we have to discern when God is speaking and when not. I hadn’t yet come up with the notion that there may be more than one god at work. I was aware that the human telling of God’s escapades is to self suit: so these sort of tales – and the Bible has many – appeal to autocratic governance, from justifying why Aaron was such a jobhog to 17th Century English Bibles, allegedly authorised by the king, who was established as head of the church as well as the state.

As we come to Petertide, when most ordinations take place, I am aware of two lessons from this dreadful story of Korah.

One is that many see humans as ascending, via this virus and proceeding problems. I’d like ‘don’t rise up and question authority’ leadership to be outmoded. We speak of living in democracy, but what we really have is a sham elected oligarchy, plutocracy and… I fear the attempts at technocracy. Korah was asking for a more people-led society where we all can participate. Not one where shows of strength silence dissent and that we claim we’re acting on the orders of someone or something intangible and unquestionable, and also dodging blame from us to either god or the tyranny of community (my phrase).

Petertide reminds me of the timing of my leaving the established church. I chose an ordination as my swansong service. The message I applied to my bosom, like Cleopatra’s asp, was The Priesthood of All Believers. This is what Korah seems to believe in too. Not just two out of a whole tribe who get to do all the talking to God and disseminate to the group, no questions allowed. So whereas this isn’t an attack on individuals and certainly not those I call friends, I do reject the notion of priesthood. And that also means ordination as priestess, for I do not believe that the hands of another – or their pronouncements or bits of paper – give me and not you permission to serve God in an especial way and to need a licence from someone in authority to speak or read publicly or wave my hands or pick up bread and wine. (I do believe in training for ministry, just not the bit of paper and the passing of authority.) I don’t believe in licenses, for anything.

I also recognise a bit of Aaron and Moses’s side. They were called, so the Bible says, and they had their share of suffering and courage to go from bulrushes to court of Pharaoh to burning bush and plagues and now live in the desert with all these challenges.

I’m thinking of my own long cherished vision to set up a new church and movement – not a chain, as I don’t do those – and that having the original idea, I hope from God, makes the baby feel all the more that it’s mine. I can see why Moses would resent someone coming to him, and with others behind him, and saying: We want in. We question what you’re doing.

I hope I would be willing to listen, especially to the questioning of the fiddly procedures. My group will be the opposite – I will resist as many procedures and rules as I can. I hope I would be willing for wide participation – that is an important precept of Between The Stools.

However, sharing the chair and being pushed off my perch are quite different. If you join a group, you accept its flavours and its leaders. You can influence, you can speak out, you can show your willingness to have a go. But the director – in this case, me – remains. I’ll not expect a flowering staff or swallowing ground to support me, and – unlike this God in Numbers – I’ll not ever do harm or judgement. (I don’t mean that leaders remain if they do harm… I think there is a time to stand down when a leader has behaved badly, but that’s not what we’re discussing here).

A mature leadership in that story would have tried to avoid the bubbling that led to the rebellion anyway, and those who wished to rebel would have shown earlier warning signs. They should have had a discussion – not been told that the Lord, their highest authority, wanted to see them for a sign of judgement, without appeal or even trial.

Who this God is will be a topic for further discussion, but this is not the God of All. Swift to Smite is not a god worth worshipping, or a very developed deity. Perhaps, when so many of us are still tempted to do likewise, it’s good that we don’t yet know our own power.

You can listen to me preach this (replete with smiting sounds) at

http://yourlisten.com/BetweenTheStools/will-the-real-god-please-stand-up-korah-for-petertide

I’ll be looking at Peter and who I think ought to be the real founder of the church on July 22nd.

Next week will be a kick arse sermon on sovereignty for independence day – yours and mine

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The Samaritan and the Priest

Another retelling for our time, based on the fact that this was the lectionary reading this week…

There was a man (or woman) lying in the road, hurting and in tatters. She cried out to a priest, more than once. It took a while for the priest to stop. When he/she did, they stayed a little while and half bathed the wounds of the broken traveller; then they accidentally but avoidably hurt the traveller and left them.

The priest hurried along to join the other priests and be praised for the policy they had kept and that they had the sense not to be involved with such a ragged person with victim mentality.

The other priests said that the priest had followed the rules. It’s better to help Samaritans, for you get more kudos for that. This priest had broken bread with the person in the road, so it wasn’t as worthy as stopping for a stranger and someone who is truly ‘other’.

Instead, the priest would preach about parables and love and helping our neighbour, and hint at her own good deeds among diverse peoples, to help with Inclusive status.

The priest would not be binding wounds themselves – that is against the Law; nor inviting into their home – even more inappropriate by priestly codes. Much better that the person lying there called the appropriate helplines for the designated systems which are set up by the Rulers to help.

Or, she could just wait, broken and starving, and without shelter, until a good Samaritan came along.

 

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Message from a Goddess

As I opened my emails this morning, I was lured by the subject, accompanied by hearts, of “message from an Egyptian goddess”. My first Goddess communication! I rescued this from my junk folder (what does Microsoft know?) and delightedly dived in.

Brought up Baptist, I’m not very familiar with Egyptian deities, although I am reading about some at the moment. This is lion-headed Sekhmet; and the sender, Published Priestess Astara of Flower of Life Press, had visited her temple in person just prior to lockdown. She stood before this dark 7 foot statue (is that with or without the big halo-douche bag on her head?) and received this message:

“Daughter, you are here to bring forth my Code—my Compassion AND my Fierce Warrior to the people during these times of great need. You were made for this, Belovedevery step you’ve taken has led you to this moment. You’ve released and become empty so you can now receive from me. Go forth and BE an emissary of Divine Mother’s Love—an anointing Priestess of the Light! This is your sacred work. Claim it! Say YES! Your gifts are sorely needed NOW as so many hearts break open from loss, death, rage, and fear. You know that the crack allows in the light, and that the light can expand and shine the vibration of love that the earth needs. This is how you are to spread itlove will catch on like a virus as you shine your light and bring forth the Voices of Change so together you can usher in a New Earth Paradigm of Love.

Wow indeed. Now I felt my not quite knees go weak like Astara’s, but a special zap that said, you were meant to read this today. I think this message is for daughters and sons, whoever reads this and thinks – yes this is me. This is my calling.

Although I have a lifelong faith, I’m not used to hearing from hybrid beings, nor via statues, and so it was significant for me to receive word via such an unfamiliar figure. But I do feel that the God I’m used to definitely comes in female, and encompasses forms and cultures that I’m not used to. In fact, that book about Egypt says that angels I know are also deities I don’t. Sekhmet in her many guises stands for healing, harmony, balance, intuition – and breaking down to build anew.

I like the Fierce Warrior part. I am, I declare, a fierce woman. I have a saying (especially for those who have only experienced my previous more docile persona) that

I used to be biddable, but now I’m formidable.

And

The Fear of the Lord and Elspeth is the fountain of life

Yes, I am facetious, wicked and unapologetic. And did I mention – fierce!

When it comes to injustice, micro or macro, I am that lioness (I’d prefer to have a mane).

But I hope too that I can also be compassionate and loving (I do struggle sometimes with all this love talk, which I’ll be taking up soon). I also baulked at the emptiness. Yes, I can relate to feeling empty. I’m used to a rather different deity telling me to empty myself so he can pour in – or that’s what his servants tell me. But I always resisted it. This sounds a big headed god who wants vacuous vessels to pour into – isn’t that close to brainwashing and what some people fear is happening with this virus?

Isn’t that how indoctrination works? I’m learning that this isn’t The One True God.

I did feel truth when I read this message – yes, in the cerise font I use here – and whether or not I directly address douche bag deities, I do feel that my God spoke when that email was sent out.

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Pentecost: Parallel Spirits

Brace yourself Nessies, this is 3000 words

I’ve moved Pentecost this year – officially. Because I was still wearing my indigo outfit on Sunday, to see a friend who loves purple. “I’m glad you thought me more important than the Holy Spirit,” she said, clad in red. I think that the Holy Spirit and Indigo are very much connected, this year especially.

Despite being a lifelong Christian, I’m new to the quirks of the high church calendar, and expected Pentecost to be this coming Sunday. Harder of course, when there are no churches to go to to be reminded. Hence I wasn’t really ready – and then something happened on Pentecost night…

Last year was the first time that I discovered the tradition of wearing red on Pentecost to emulate the flames of the Holy Spirit which rested on the disciples’ heads. I feel that red isn’t very representative of flames and felt that orange and yellow should be included. So I went to a high church dressed like a lollipop, replete with matching lipstick. By night I attended an interdenominational meeting at the local cathedral. I was delighted to see a screen – not of the rood and pulpitum kind – and band instruments. I enjoyed the sight of cape clad stewards with heads in their hands whilst we raised ours. I met another Elspeth – a rare event – but she soon left me to stand at the back so that she could wave her hands more.

I wondered if putting my hands above hockey height – not something that churches I attend encourage – does actually give you an experience of the Spirit. Alas not I, but then the music didn’t really move me. Others seemed to be straight in there, as if programmed by familiar songs, pulsing with bliss. I confess that my bliss came from a sense of wickedness.

No one there was dressed in red. No one I spoke to understood why I was. Was I the only person who’d seen incense that morning?

I like to go between traditions, and not just the ends of the Christian candle. Candles are used by everyone. Pagans too…

I feel it is my calling to go between different expressions of faith, and especially to be a bridge between Woo Woo and traditional Christians. Which disciples of Jesus among you would listen to the dispensations of the Magenta Pixie? She has especial words, which I discovered at Pentecost. Please let me share them.

If you’re expecting Angela Rippon creations of the garden variety, you’ll be disappointed. The avatar of the said Pixie is more coral than magenta. I do like to describe colours accurately. If you do too, you might be just who I’m looking for at Between the Stools (I’m peppering my articles with hints).

The Magenta Pixie, a spirit channel, was speaking about resetting global finances, and a little known American agreement due to be ratified on 11th September 2001 called NESARA. There is also a global version, about forgiving all debts and free energy. It’s time for that to come to pass, saith the Pixie. Important stuff – but I was concerned that this website that the Pixie chose for her message, The Golden Age of Gaia, seemed to have rushed ahead with statements and timelines for the new age.

It is vital that we all participate and that no-one takes upon themselves – not governments, universities, think tanks, churches, or communities of Goddesses – to tell us when universal Citizens’ Income and medicare is coming in and that a new worldwide financial agreement has been made.

I’ll speak more about this another time, but I won’t hide that I very much wish to be part of creating a new world – it is a calling I’ve long been aware of. Perhaps some of you reading this feel that too. And all of us will live in this post viral world, so we should have at least the opportunity to have a say. Vast distant systems being imposed on us – even by celestial beings – is not what the Aquarian Age is about. (If you’re a Christian, you can think of it as the 1000 Years of Peace in Revelation).

In my woo woo diet of late, I’d been reading about a particular chef who I shan’t name, whose dishes I had found healthful. But then I discovered a recipe on the OMTimes about the new world being brought to birth which made me choke.

I have and will continue to speak against technology which harms. It’s what I’ve feared for a long time and could see how this virus could be used to make more of it. Again, this will feature more in another post – Lead Us Not Into Technocracy (from my Lord’s Prayer for our times).

But it’s relevant to today because it’s about a new era and the Spirit helpers descending to us to assist us. Jesus left behind his Spirit which came that day, recorded in the book of Acts.

I’m reading 2 books about Mary Magdalene, one of my favourite people. The Jews of that first century AD (not that they knew it was AD yet) expected and hoped for this Messiah to save them and for a new era that alleviated them from oppression. Their most obvious oppression was the Romans who occupied them, and so much of the world at that time. Jesus did indeed preach and usher in a new kingdom, assisted by Mary, but not of the sort they expected, nor in the way they expected.

New wine into old wineskins is a topic to develop more later – but it relates to my public critique of the Anglican church (see tag cloud), which I feel is very analogous to the Judaism described in these novels. The rules for rules sake; the rules that stop you doing good; the rules which are quick to exclude and punish. And it’s not just the church, but secular society which creates ever more laws. In my country, laws were rushed through at the outbreak which curtail liberties and rights, such as making it easier to section people (relevance to covid? That should set off alarms). This would be relevant to Mary’s story too… She’ll get a post for her day in July, and so will ‘mental health’.

But I’m seeing that we need spiritual helpers as we face oppression – from our own governments and systems, the Romans of our time, fighting this ‘invisible enemy’…although conspiracy theorists say that description matches the Illuminati as much as the virus.

My Woo Woo friends tell me that we indeed have such helpers – not only are lightworkers born onto the earth in large numbers for this ascension, but that spirit guides, such as angels and other discarnate beings, are very willing to aid us.

Mainstream Christians would say that the Holy Spirit is ever with us, and yes we have angels although unless you’re high church, you’re not encouraged to address anyone outside of the Trinity.

But I’m afraid about the idea of improvement from some New Age types. Returning to that OMTimes article… we are told that we’ll have to sacrifice privacy for this better world.

Brakes screech to a halt. If you’re wanting an end to injustice and inequality, you do not sacrifice privacy. Privacy erosion is a feature of dystopia. (Not that I think much to Thomas Moore’s Utopia, having read it last year). Our homes, our bodies, our belongings, our thoughts and beliefs are our own.

This same article spoke of robot nurses to avoid healthcare workers getting infected! Yes I can see the concern that of course has been faced round the world, but I also query the narrative about infection levels, and also that our state mainstream medical model is the right or the only one. I have often said that by stopping other modalities from working during the lockdown, it’s not only made those practitioners poor, but taken away patient choice, and deprived us of the very kinds of healing that are most efficacious.

What our modern world and this virus is depriving us of is People Contact. Loneliness has been as much of a problem as the virus. I don’t want to be served by a machine, in a library, in a shop. And I certainly don’t want medical care from one. Many of us find robots eerie. Our online systems are paranoid about robots – stopping those browsers who protect their privacy – but in the non virtual world, we are being encouraged to accept these monstrosities. I say a very clear NO.

The same post also was celebrating, or at least accepting, that much more of our world will be virtual and controllable, including our health.

Again, health will get more detailed posts in the future, but I was horridly disturbed by the idea of being centrally watched in my home. I’ve seen NHS studies on the ‘wonders’ of smart meters being able to watch when I sit and when I rise (isn’t that the Lord’s prerogative? It’s comforting about Him, not about my national health service). Hence, if I am deemed to be depressed, and I get up in the night, you can see that I’ve a sleep (or bladder) issue and alter my medicine accordingly.

Hence I hate smart meters, which not only pump out dangerous EMFs, but allow me to be controlled remotely – but I am not a video! I am also against 5G which facilitates this, and to which I will devote at least a whole post.

The new age self help movement often speak of not giving your power away, but this is doing exactly that!

I’ve heard Christians say that the Holy Spirit is a gentleman; you have to accept him into you heart to become a Christian; and if you’re Pentecostally minded, that to receive gifts of the spirit, you must accept and be open. He (she actually – the Greek is female) won’t force her heavenly language upon you. This is going to put the snake’s tail in its mouth…

Permission is something we’re hot on, or should be. We’re supposed to ask permission in intimate acts of all kinds. I’ve heard Pagans opine about the importance of permission in touching or in opting in… and yet our technological world wants to erode that. Permission was meant to be at the heart of the European General Data Protection Regulations of 2018, although in effect it’s not given the individual much real control. Being heavy about signatures which hand over rights that you don’t choose is meaningless. I had this out, post GDPR, with the Financial Ombudsman service. Cookies have become “we’re just telling you we’re setting them” for many websites – which is not legal or right. If you ask for permission to do something, the answer has to feasibly be NO. Like, when I was eating my lunch and a smoker sat next to me and said, Do you Mind. Yes. (So don’t or smoke elsewhere.) She thought I’d just assent. Consent means we can say yes or no.

So what’s this got to do with Pentecost? This is a tongue of fire new era, with special healers, human and divine.

And consent has to be at the heart of a decent world. One World, but not One World Order. I note that the dreaded Cabal that the woo wooers speak of, and the technologies that some praise, act in much the same way.

The Spirit won’t come into our hearts unless we ask; the angels won’t step in – even to those of faith – unless we especially call on them. And yet, 5G would foist on us a system we may not choose, with energies running through our homes which affect those that we live near (including animals). It’s help we may not ask for, but we’re being monitored by people that are ever more faceless – such as the customer care for this blog – and hard to reach.

This is not an improved world, it’s what I’m fighting to stop.

That OM article, sought out during a challenging day, depressed me. For I felt – have I thus far survived to emerge in such a world? Someone else said, many of us won’t live to see this new age. So we do the hard graft of making it, suffering the old and its death throes, only to hand it over to children?

But I cheered myself up with these statements, and I hope that they encourage you too.

None of us know how long we’ll live but it’s possible that we will share the world with generations that come after us, even outlive them. Of course we should think of those who come next, but not to negate our own lives for children. It’s particularly galling for those who don’t have children. So yes we may well see the fruits of our planting, and we should all have the opportunity to plant and to plan the garden.

I also realised that many don’t want this world where the unseen swoops in to intervene. I’m not alone in resisting it.

Free will is at the heart of all spiritual interactions. Any light transmission, movie about God or angels I’ve seen, theological discourse, says: We can’t help unless you ask.

So this technopolis is not an improvement, and it’s immature. I refer you back to my Tough Love and Nannying piece. This is super spooky nannying. It forgets the medical traditions which gave rise to our cultures and to the Woo Woo movement. Why is non allopathic medicine known as complementary, and has to give medical disclaimers to say “This is no replacement for your doctor”? Why give so much power to this relatively young and localised health regime, instead othe older and wiser ones which have survived for many centuries and enjoy a resurgence?

The OM article also mentioned capitalism, as if it were a necessary and helpful invention needed at a time of crisis and change. It is exactly what is wrong with our world. Christians might want to say it’s Satan or the human heart, but if I had to put it down to a system, it’s the C word. Again, many alternatives are seeking an alternative from that system which they call the broken masculine, the 3D way. This is what our Spirit helpers are here to address, and the virus is meant to break.

We’re not meant to go back to what we had or to start a worse system.

And… yes this has been a super snaky one today… but I said that the snake’s tail would end in its mouth. It was the Light Code transmissions which I discovered on Pentecost that I wanted to speak of as my final point and my link between Woo Woo and Christians. Today, the gifts of the Spirit fell upon the apostles, and charismatic Christians say that we can have these – prophecy, healing, discernment, casting out evil, and tongues too. Indeed, I believe that and some people are living that.

But I found out that tongues aren’t just an evangelical protestant Christian phenomena. I discovered a Catholic Priestess whom I love – I have the honour of reviewing her Mary Magdalene book – who speaks in tongues. I think it’s a mark of mysticism.

I came across the work of Sandra de Vos. I laid on my bed for a healing where I’d be bombarded with light codes coming through sound. It recalled Speaking In Tongues! Although this wasn’t as calm as tongues – the last time I heard these, it was very soothing and I didn’t care that I didn’t understand what was being said. It always sounds a bit Hebrew, but that’s maybe because to Western ears, Hebrew feels an exotic, unfamiliar language. It isn’t Hebrew or any known earth speak.

I hope this isn’t unPC – it’s meant to be quite the reverse – but some of the noises made in the Light Codes recalled not only animals, but humans that we might call challenged.

I have begun to suspect that these beings are actually advanced and that what we consider to be unskilled or unintelligent communication is literally the language of angels. We just haven’t tuned into them yet. I note how birdsong and crickets and waves and whales appear in relaxing healing music, infused (I’m learning) with divine codes of healing, light and profound messages in multi layers.

So next time, dear Pentecostal friends (are you still here?) a cessationalist brethren or sethern challenges your holy babble and says, what’s the point? Without an interpreter you’re doing no good… say that this is God using you as a channel for light codes beyond our current level of understanding. Or as Sandra de Vos says, you’re a Cosmic Microphone. For the Lord. I think that it’s no accident that this phenomenon of tongues reappeared in decades of change as we moved towards ascension…

And it’s these languages these codes these awarenesses that we need to get into our reign of peace.

We also need to understand diversity… like seeing those people we thought as disabled, something to fix or pity, or less valuable, as some of our most profound beings who have a special role. We need to learn to celebrate them and to learn to communicate. This 5G health model would impose more normative standards on us, which is an aberration of true wellbeing.

Hence, I have to say, such proponents are not entirely the old souls that they claim to be.

But it’s OK to be a rosy and green apple. I am. I’m willing to fix my worm holes – and I think that celestial sound is a vital part of that – listening to it, channelling it… the the other worldly, not so logical and empirical voice, the still small voice.

I hope that by my facetiousness, I’ve gotten different belief systems to listen to each other.

I have another Goddess Message to share soon.

And the title of course is a reference to my novel.

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Ascension – from Larry Norman to ET to Atlantis and back

A year ago, to avoid a noisy outdoor concert, I attended my first Ascension church service. Previously, I’d been vaguely aware of this event in the Christian calendar, 6 weeks from Easter, which remembers that Jesus left the earth, not via his death on the cross, but by an ET style lift off shared by only two others in history.

Coming from an Evangelical Nonconformist background, I didn’t realise that it was so big on the traditional church calendar, a compulsory attendance day. Not that I felt compelled by any clergy to go anywhere – I was just glad to be away from the pounding bass and my sweaty home, lured by the possibility of a party – I love to meet new people, possible recruits for this community?

The very mature people’s knees up finished by 930 – yes it was (and always is) a Thursday, but only octogenarians in the C of E would end a party so early. Not great for concert avoiding – another 2 hours to go!

Hearing ‘Ascension’ immediately brings that evening to mind. I confess that I enjoyed the deanery plenary service more as it slid down the candle. I am also pleased to report that I was told off for ‘unseemly laughter’. You’ll hear it soon – yes even and especially whilst leading church services. Holiness does not preclude naughtiness.

This year, I’m aware of a different sort of ascension. Hanging out in woo woo circles, I hear the phrase all the time. We’re in the process of it – not just a moveable May mass – but a chronic collective take off, now accelerating. Some would say that the ET analogy isn’t far out.

I just read on website In 5D that some of us are off to another Earth, or there might be a 3rd earth holding pen for those not quite ready for this full Higher Self living! I’m not interested in blasting off from a forest clearing to John Barry and leaving Eliots and Drew Barrymores behind to cope with the ‘3D world’ and its mess whilst I enjoy elevated living on a parallel planet. Nor do I wish to be Eliot or his sister Gertie – those who tasted other things, know that much is wrong with our world, and yet have to carry on living in it… or it that the point – that they became lightworkers, touched by ET’s brief presence?

Does ET come back with a bigger craft and collect people on another run, or does he hope that his short stay was sufficient to be a catalyst for change?

In my native Christian circles, we believed that not ET, but Jesus will return, with not a bigger spaceship but an angel train. Traditionally, he team picks those who are ready/deserving (aren’t they the same, and isn’t that what the new age is really saying?). As a child I recall a song on Mum’s record player, The King is Coming, a bit 50s croony sounding, with trumpets in the chorus:

The market place is empty,

there’s no traffic in the street

All the builders’ tools are silent [we wish!]

No more time to harvest wheat

Busy housewives cease their labors [no U, I’m sure this is American – it is, by Bill Gaither]

In the court/stateroom, no debate [rush through the other sort of bills as you please]

Work on earth is all suspended…

The King is Coming…

Praise God… He’s coming for me

Soon into my teens, I wrote one of my own first songs, “The King is Coming Back.” Again, it was about God coming in Glory, for me. I had assurance of my place in Heaven, but others didn’t. I could face death without fear, I didn’t worry about signs of the times – surely what we’re in now matches those eschatological prophecies (as well as the lyrics just quoted) – but others may have other, ahem, less joyful after parties to go to. Unless they swiftly got an invite from the King.

Larry Norman, a Christian rock singer (shock noise!) had a similar sentiment in a song I heard about the time I wrote mine: I Wish We’d All Been Ready. This included other images of people being suddenly taken whilst others by them were left behind. We had a duty to spread such ideas so that the spaceship was as loaded as possible at lift off and that there were not Gertie and Eliots, certainly among our own acquaintance. There was a little fear that like Spielberg’s lovable alien, we might be stranded.

Some time after the new Millennium, I stopped believing in Hell and judgement, but not in the second coming. By the time of a special date into that new century, I was engaged in a very different – and yet, not so different – spirituality.

On 21st Dec 2012, I joined in an online meet at that moment that some saw as Rapture, the take off event at end of the Mayan calendar. I let the dulcet tones of energy worker Jo Dunning lead me and thousands of others round the world into an awakening of a new era, the age of Aquarius.

I didn’t go anywhere, but I realised that it was an invisible awakening. I didn’t take that Biblical notion literally now of being collected off the street whilst my companion stayed. As it says in the movie Evan Almighty, perhaps this promised phenomena was about consciousness.

I’ve read many books and blog posts which say, we’re waking up, more and more of us. Aquarius has been a slow dawn following a dark long night, but it’s here.

I have to say I’m 5Ded out, as much as I am loved out. Do I like the sound of this paradigm that all the hippies are talking about, any more than the invasive technology with almost the same name?

When I’m told to focus on love not fear regarding the world situation, it means – don’t speak out about what’s really happening, but accept. Then I have to ask what is this passive state that they call love which does nothing and sees nothing? A love that allows us and generations who come after to live in a controlled drudgery of no privacy? ‘Love’ that says we deserve our poverty, that someone else deserves welfare and charity more than I (benefits are being stopped during lockdown!) and that earning – by any means, any job – gives us value.

I preached a sermon called The Wisdom of the Smurfs – which will get a reprise – about ideal society and doing the work you love. I said and I do again:

We Are Not Valuable For The Taxable Income We Generate.

Adding to GDP is not what makes us a good citizen and contribute to society.

It’s not just whether you do a service job, or you volunteer in recognised ways.

I’m asking big questions about the kind of way that we organise ourselves and the assumptions that we make. One of those is: do we have money?

Some people who claim to be spiritual see that earning big money is a sign that you are ‘living in alignment’. Not earning much shows lower energy stuckness.

A priestess I otherwise like sends many emails about her expensive training program, telling me that I have to be ready in all ways for her to consider me – including financially. Which means, we’re not doing concessions and we won’t be impressed if you can’t keep up your instalments. For wealth is a sign of spiritual maturity, sister.

No it isn’t.

Another ‘spiritual entrepeneur’ and show host got my goat today. She says that she doesn’t have clients who struggle – she wants peppy high energy (read, earners) who don’t question. I’ve seen her push people off a live call when they don’t respond to her and her guest with, Wow (sob) I’m so healed and grateful. I felt it was time for me to get off the call, for if that’s her dealbreaker, that is mine.

She spoke of her healthy 6 – and now she’s on a 7 – figure salary; of struggling to get beyond the 5 figures A MONTH ceiling (because you’re not manifesting right, something’s holding you back). How about some basic economics and lack of greed?

In Rhonda Byrne’s The Secret, it says that only 1%, the world’s wealthy, know and apply the Secret of the Law of Attraction. The rest of us say: Occupy Movement –      We are the 99!

The green minded – I mean philosophically – say that our imbalance is caused by taking without thought, of growth without caring about the consequences, so it surprises me how many people got off a corporate ladder to find God/Spirit to only just add corporate to God/ Spirit. Oh, I was on the streets (well, living in my car, actually, a caravan park…. oh not quite homeless, but not yet in my mansion)…. when I only charged £50 an hour for my services (now it’s 10 times that because I love myself enough)…. but now I’m rich again. In fact, I don’t have a job as such, a Millionaire Woman told me. I sit on the beach ‘cus I can’t stand the office. I make a more lowly wench (surely Rosemary the Operator to my Hong Kong Fuey) go into the office and run my vast wealthy business, then she comes out to me each day and brings me flowers and the phone. I do about 2 hours work and then sunbathe. The rest of my prosperity portfolio is all investments, and inheritance.

I’ve heard this – that real wealth is passive income, in money that’s just sitting there, and property where you do very little in return for your monthly return. Their wealth causes others poverty and stress.

Hence I get very cross with those who judge the ‘poor’, especially when they are mean with their money and see people in need but decide that they’re not deserving. I’ve heard these people haggle lower earners down, although they could afford full price.

I’ve stopped drawing a line between work and play. I deeply question ‘hard work’ as a quality. I don’t see rest as something that has to be earned, on the other side of earning. I question what activities get you money, and what doesn’t. Although I’m not a socialist, I also point out the huge disparity in pay, reflecting what we value.

I’d like to do a whole service on this another time.

In woo woo circles, in the ring above ‘I was in Corporate Land (and Spirit found me)’, I’ve heard it said that work is part of the old paradigm. It’s not just AI – which I deplore – making us wonder if we’ll need basic incomes because there won’t be the need to work. There’s also suggestion that money is part of this lower frequency world that I hope we are about to grow out of.

In medieval Wales, they had no money – in the first Cadfael book, an English abbot tries to pay off his neighbours, who are confused and insulted. Pre Roman Britain also didn’t understand loans – the Celts thought that giving was simply a gift, no strings.

And they were right.

I note that in Britain, after four centuries of uninvited rulers who imposed cities as well as taxes, that we resumed our more agrarian tribal living. Historians used to call those mysterious centuries til the Normans arrived The Dark Ages. The ignorance was truly theirs, for the society was simply different to and in some ways more enlightened than the city building conquerors. I wonder if it’s comparable to the difference between Lemuria and Atlantis, two ancient mythologised lost continents. Lemurians are like the native Celts, living more simply in one way, but with deep understanding of spirit and nature; the Atlanteans, like Romans, were the advanced people, in technology – but were they spiritually and emotionally mature? Weren’t they the ones whose advancement caused an explosion which destroyed them and endangered the rest of the planet with them? The warning to us should be evident.

Are the Lemurians/Celts closer to Ascension?

I’m almost done. So really I’m talking about two things under the same word: personal maturity, and the next stage of the world’s history.

I’m noting – in myself too – how that spiritual leaders can have contradictions in their beliefs and behaviours. As a priestess sister said, we can be juicy red apples on one side and green with wormholes on the other – and I think that holding red and green is part of maturity. Ascension is not about being red all over. It doesn’t make some emotions unacceptable – SARK says to feel everything in your emotional family, and live in the marvellous messy middle. To me, that’s not leaving this world (including for the holding pen) nor letting it worsen, nor reigning in my cackle and smoothing everything with meaningless love and premature forgiveness – more on these topics another time. But I do see that contradictions can also mean comprimise in integrity, and that’s worth watching for, and I include myself in that as much as holding others to account.

I’m converging threads about two different faiths and two different shades of those faiths. Evangelical Christians expect a literal Second Coming of the Lord, ending our Earth dwelling as we know it; and more high (but often liberal) Christians made more of the feast on Thursday, but without perhaps believing that their Lord did lift off in the ET sense. I like to think that he did, and he didn’t need a spacecraft.

Believers in Atlantis say that our forebears had flying machines and that UFOs like our friend ET are evolved beings, perhaps angels, perhaps remnants of those lost races. And that they’re here to help us by passing on knowledge and are especially ready to assist us in this crucial time.

There are shades of woo woo too. There’s those who accept all that we’re being told about the virus, and those who promote what they believe to be an alternative truth. Some of those critiquing the new laws being rushed through and medical propaganda do so without reference to spiritual beliefs, and I feel that their telling is not complete without being aware of energy and spirit. There are the woo woo-ers who expect ascension to be a literal leaving of this planet, so it’s not Jesus (or ET) we’re waiting for, but ourselves. Yet both Larry Norman and the Gaia gang believe that people will be left behind, and see a great danger if we don’t soon act.

Much of my lifetime has had The Book of Revelation fulfilment potential. But never have I felt on such a cusp of a watershed as now.

I’ve long stopped preaching to make people see religion my way for fear that they will go to hell and I will get a rap for letting them. But I am not so laissez fair about politics. Not the party kind, but the what’s happening in the world kind. I see that there is an evil – perhaps not Satan, but that there are principalities and powers at work, and that they are manifesting right now. And being uncovered, ready for transmutation or defeat. I do believe that we have an all powerful Saviour, so that we don’t have to do this alone. I think we are all Eliots and Gerties, that having been shown the truth, we need to continue his work – those from spaceships and He who doesn’t need one – and that we too ascend, out of the Matrix and into the Aquarian age.

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A Lord’s Prayer for our times

Big Brother

who art in cloud servers

Big Data be your name

Your new world order won’t come

5G won’t be done

On Earth as it was in China

Give us this day our daily bread (and whatever walks we feel like)

and lead us not into totalitarianism

For yours is not the kingdom

the power, nor the glory

for it belongs to a God called Love

and Hers is the new normal

from now and forever

Amen, so let it be

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Green Pastilles, blue clothing: in remembrance of my Mum’s 10th anniversary

Ten years ago, I lost my Mum. I want to share some thoughts and two pictures inspired by her.

(You can hear me reading this on https://yourlisten.com/BetweenTheStools)

This was painted on the first anniversary of her death – it’s called

“Ascent of the Duzzy Heron”.

Ascent of the Duzzy Heron

The heron had elicited two strong but opposing reactions from our family. Granddad saw it as a fish taker. He referred to it as “duzzy” – a local gentle expletive, since, as evangelicals, we can’t say fuckin’. (Yes, I know…Would Jesus like to hear me say that?)

For Granddad, then, the bird was a menace.

But for Mum, it was a source of joy. Mum would watch this heron, often from the window, and await the moment when the slim leggy bird spread its vast wings. Its whole presence expanded and it truly was a magnificent – but elusive and fleeting – sight. She would often call us over as the unfurling began, but I always missed the show. The heron was a wide eyebrow shaped mark in the air, rapidly disappearing, by the time I viewed it.

On the day of Mum’s funeral, I returned home alone and I saw, for the first time, the heron as it rose with the grace and span of Isaiah’s eagles and flew up into the heavens.

And I felt it was a sign of Mum, and so involuntarily, I saluted it.

It was thus a natural focus for an anniversary painting. The heron, more iridescent silver than grey, represented Mum, rising from the murky waters of her illness – a subject much in our collective minds at present; the green is the trees behind, although this is also about growth and new life; and blue, her favourite colour, and white flecked with light, symbolises her new celestial home. For she and I absolutely believe in paradise, and the transcendence over death however it comes for us.

In the heron’s beak is a green pastille.

It may seem unremarkable that I ate one that day. But I was 15 before I tasted one; and for the last eighteen months of Mum’s life, all greens had to be handed over to my mother with a partiality for the little sugary round Rowntree sweets.

In church as children, during long sermons, Mum opened the silvery wrapper and passed it along to us in the pew, but the green ones were extracted before being proffered. Green ones were snatched by right until we earned and were able to buy our own confectionary and eat them away from Mum’s eyes.

In my teens, there was a deliciousness in discovery of a rather nice hitherto unchewed flavour. I hadn’t minded giving over the again green pastilles when Mum got ill – it was affection as much as deference, a willing sacrifice.

On the bedside table, beside a stripped mattress that once carried our matriarch, was a single green pastille.

And, like Eve, I did take and ate it. (She’d have hated that wrongful grammar).

It felt deliberate, like an invitation to take the red pill of The Matrix, to step into life’s fullness – a final gift, as if the woman who bore me gave me life a second time.

 

The other painting is called “She Is Our Clothing”. It comes from a quote from Mother Julian’s’ Revelation of Divine Love. Julian wrote “He is our clothing”, but her constant reference to God as Mother – which I have long believed – made  this a natural title choice. Mum died close to the anniversary of Julian’s visions, which is celebrated in my city, where Julian lived. I had kept both something Mum bought me and something she wore, and I used them in this artwork. The navy shirt – Mum’s favourite colour and one she was glad to see on our backs as well as her own – got ripped in place that Jesus was torn. Across the painting, the arms of this smock and those of a hoodie of Mum’s are wrapped, enfolding us. The painting itself has imagery from Julian’s medieval book: the hazelnut, the soul as a city – naturally, I’ve drawn this one – are in the Vesica Pisces shape often seen in medieval seals, but this has another, ahem, relevant thought to the title of the piece. Around it is He is Our Ground, The Purse!! (Julian said it, I painted it!), Knitting, and further maternal imagery that is currently covered up! (one for another sermon – Mum wouldn’t have liked that any more than my duzzy translation). There is also the Devil and flames which Julian was taught not to fear, as they are already overcome by our Lord. And that as the hazelnut tells us – everything that is made, is held by God.

In my own life and the collective life of the world, I felt need of being reminded of God’s nurturing, sustenance, love, and power over all; that his arms enfold us, as a Mum, as I remember and celebrate the life of mine. Yes, I’m eating green pastilles in her memory.

I have seven of them lined up to eat ceremonially at the moment of her passing.

She is Our Clothing photos by me1

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St George – do we like him, or not?

I was almost thirty before I knew when my nation’s patron saint’s day was. I discovered it by accident by visiting a cathedral on this date = 23rd April.

 

George – who took over from St Edmund as England’s mascot – is less well known and celebrated here than our Celtic neighbours’ saints. Pubs in England will promote St David, St Andrew, and St Patrick’s days, but in school I was never asked to make a St George’s day thing; never attended a party for him as child nor adult. I’ve not seen the St George flag – a white background with a red cross – hanging out on this day, any year.

 

In Britain, we don’t use our national flag that much, unless there’s a royal occasion. They appeared at the most recent royal weddings, for which we all got a holiday; for the Queen’s landmark milestones, and on her palaces.

 

The just-for-us English Georgian one is seen in one of three contexts: six nations rugby, the football world cup; or by nationalists such as the English Defence League who march occasionally, proclaiming messages that most of us consider dangerous, for they are unwelcoming of other nationalities which live among us. Hence, there is concern and derision for this use of the flag and perhaps why, when it’s not an international sporting fixture, that we don’t display them. Note that whereas it’s considered a sign of national pride for our Celtic neighbours to get their flags out, it’s been noted that in England, we must have the pan-island Union Jack (which has the Georgian cross in it, combining England and Scotland’s flags but not Wales). Perhaps this point is why people like EDL do attract a following.

 

There is a fourth place that we might encounter St George – in churches. He’s not that common as a dedication for parish churches, unlike Mary, Paul, Peter, Andrew, Trinity.

He’s not found by fishing ports, like Nicholas, nor town gates like Botolph and Giles; not popular in a region in which he lived like Cuthbert or Edmund (in Northumbria and East Anglia respectively).

 

In English cities of multiple medieval parish churches, only Norwich has any Georges (2 out of 31); none of London’s 39, York’s 19, Bristol’s 14, Cambridge’s 15, Ipswich’s 12 (I’m allowing ruins and chapels as well here)… not in any of our other cathedral cities or county towns… save Canterbury, whose George in the high street (1 of 12) was obliterated in the last war.

 

Even checking the lost churches of these cities, which sometimes doubles the amount of dedications, I found only one George, ever, in London (in Botolph Lane) out of c100 parish churches in the old city; and nor could I swiftly think of any just outside it. None other of Norwich’s total 63 medieval dedications, nor any of its monasteries, were to St George. There’s one at Stamford (Lincs)… but not many in England, and I can only think of them in towns, not rurally.

The most famous English church dedicated to George is the chapel at Windsor castle. This vast perpendicular space is at the heart of the country’s largest castle and one of the places we most associate with our monarch, now and historically. It is from here that knighthoods are dispensed, in the order of this patron saint, which involves garters – yes those sort!

 

George lived in the 3-4th centuries, thus before English parish churches were conceived; rededication is possible. So it is significant that someone who became and stayed our patron and who died 1700 years ago, whose Order is 700 years old, has few churches to his name.

 

I noted that from Georgian times, George does appear in new churches, and not just Anglican ones. A Unitarian in Exeter, a German Lutheran church in the city of London, bear the name George, when saints and people’s names are unusual as part of these denominations’ titles.

 

In Bristol, England’s then second city, there’s a regency St George near the centre (and an area to the east); there’s a contemporary one in Brighton’s Kemptown (a town created by a George); a late 19th C monster in Jesmond, Newcastle – home of the Geordies; and there are three in Edinburgh’s new town (18th and 19th C), a building venture dedicated to King George. Glasgow has a 19th C George in the Fields and its original sibling, a more central late Georgian George, which like in Edinburgh, has its own square – a royalist, unionist statement. There’s an 18th C George at Great Yarmouth, home of Nelson’s naval hospital and column.

Georgian churches – from the era – are traditionally English; solemn, quiet, not given to fuss; upright pews for stiff sitting, lips and values; orderly; places for mayor’s swords to rest in public ceremonies celebrating status; cerebral, but not given to displays of public affection, or the indulgent colourings in of our Victorian or Catholic, ahem, neighbours…

There’s a couple more Catholic churches dedicated to St George – such as Southwark’s RC cathedral and again in Norwich – not centrally. These are later 19th C dedications.

 

I note that George is not a British monarch’s name until the German house of Hanover takes over the throne; and that four kings are named George in a row; and then George returned last century to make an Edward sandwich (our first king, who built the palace that became ‘mother of all parliaments’) when we were being very imperial and class and might driven. And it’s a George who instigated a cross for military bravery in the last war. Hmm…

————

 

I was feeling uncomfortable about George the dragon slayer and this sort of Englishness.

 

I wasn’t sure about the dragon, who is the symbol of our neighbour, Wales. Note that name means ‘foreigner’ (a name given by the English to those whose self moniker means ‘fellow countrymen’) and this dragon seems to be about squashing threats of those that are different or other. I note too that dragons are important symbols to China and elsewhere.

 

I was further appalled to check the official St George website, royally appointed, who is trying to promote this under proclaimed saint, and their version of the dragon myth:

 

Pagans placate a sleeping dragon (well, let it sleep then!) with an unwitting sheep in order to get their essential supplies; and when sheep run out, they turn to the women. If the princess hadn’t drawn the lot to be dragon fodder – no doubt a good looking one – would St George have turned up to rescue her? On a white horse!! And killed the blessed thing (NOT on his horse) so that the villagers could get the water that the dragon nested by. (Was there no other water source? No reasoning and negotiation? No befriending the dragon?) Oh, and this feat naturally got the wayward barbarian Pagans turning to Jesus (well, the religion named after him) since the dragon slayer was of course already a convert…

 

So blonde, tall (Aryan) George, in his pennant shield with traditional armour on the horse (supposedly female fantasies), is usually depicted killing some poor alien beastie below him (not even what the story says), looking ugly and in agony. Supposedly too the picture of chivalry, and symbol of crusaders (more attacking foreigners and ‘dragons’ in the name of Christianity)…

 

Then I read a little more about Georgie not Porgie and felt a little more comforted.

 

One – EDL fascists – he’s not even English! (He’s from Turkey and lived in Persia, a part of the world you’re often harsh about). Ironic for crusaders then…

I bet we don’t even say his name right here.

 

But – I began to like his story and feel he is especially appropriate. Converted to Christianity, swift riser in the Roman army… still bored and cynical (when’s the dragon coming?). Well, the real dragon of George’s life was his emperor, Diocletian, who persecuted Christians in times of unrest and who were standing up to his harsh regime.

Then there was a supposed plot against Diocletian’s #2 by Christians – note there had to be reasonable reason – and so churches were shut (ringing any bells?) and scriptures burned; citizenship, if not life, would be forfeited for those found foul of the Emperor’s decree.

George wouldn’t do the worst that he was asked to by his paymaster, and in fact, he took down some Roman posters. But his paymaster was in the city, and George knew he was about to be cooked goose… Indeed, despite his brave and reasoned arguments, and his former favour, Diocletian put him to death for refusing to renounce his faith.

I’m now suspicious about that as a reason for martyrdom… rival Edmund claimed that too.

But… regardless of whether my facetious retelling (based still on the royal St George website) is true, it’s interesting that this is what the official fans purport and this is what the Catholic church canonised him for.

Not only courage, but compassion. Not for mass conversion, military might or beastie brutality, but for refusal to comply with unjust orders, to order his 1,000 men to bully citizens, and to renounce his faith and principles. George was willing to also disobey the scriptural mandate (did it yet say this, or was that later king’s scribes?) to obey earthly authority, but George must have felt that as this clashed with what he felt God was asking of him and what he lived by, that he must follow his God and his conscience. And he even told the Emperor off for his unjust rule.

Now I’m impressed.

Maybe this George is worth giving attention to afterall.

I hear that he has long been revered, not just here, but in many parts of the world.

May we and would-be Diocletians continue to remember him.

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Easter 2020 sermon

‘Early in the morning, on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and others came to the tomb while it was still dark’ and every year for over twenty years, I have risen at daybreak – not a natural act for me – and gone outside to a special place to commemorate those women’s silent bravery and the first hope of Easter. This year I am on hill overlooking my city.

Usually, I replay my 7 Sayings compositions for Good Friday and add my Easter Day piece, and then later join with other Christians. But of course, I can’t attend worship with others this year – and it seems incredible that churches have been told not to open on their most holy day, the fulcrum of our faith.

This year, more than ever, I felt the need to speak about the meaning of Easter, and this year it will be physically, visibly felt. We are still in the tomb, for most of us round the world can’t meet to celebrate this feast, but we can prepare for the bursting forth in subversive victory by planning for it in our collective cocoon, doing the inner work until the outer can physically manifest.

I’m proud that there are Particular Baptists and Priestesses listening to this, and I’m glad to have brought you together, for this is a common purpose that we need to work towards.

Whether we recognise the phrase, we are all Lightworkers, here to usher in a new kingdom.

God has especially intervened in his – or her – relationship with humans three times: when he first made us; when he sent Jesus; and…now. The New Age isn’t a ducky hippy fantasy – it is here. I believe there are three covenants that God made with us: one with a particular people, although I think God has always been broader than that; and then he opened to the door to the Gentiles in the new testament, so that inclusion was through belief in Jesus… and now I think God is saying: open the door.

Perhaps the Particulars will particularly flinch at the suggestion, or I think assertion, that there is but one God; and whatever we call Her, that we are using different dialling codes to the same exchange.

I have come to understand that God’s essence isn’t judgement and exclusion. His prime attribute isn’t holiness, or even power… it’s love, Love with a capital L. And today we don’t proclaim good news because you have to accept serious bad news first. It’s not – believe or else; feel guilty and let that dictate your acceptance of God’s gift with not just strings attached, but thick cords. That cannot be grace – or a healthy relationship.

Today, the temple curtain in our sadly empty churches is rent in two: God isn’t held in the Holy of Holies for priests – or priestesses – alone. She’s not even in buildings, beautiful as they often are, which can be shows of strength and privilege, and doors that can exclude as well as give sanctuary. God is out in the world, within our walls and yet beyond them.

And God is birthing, through us, not 5G – the next level of technological connectivity, which very much concerns me – but 5D, the 5th dimension. For me, higher D is about living in a consciously soulful place, seeing one’s story arc from an authorial point of view, more and more in tune with what SARK calls “your inner wise self”, or Spirit, and not what traditional Christians would call ‘worldly values.’ It is a greater focus on the unseen and immeasurable.

Events over the last year have started to push me out of the 3D world, the ‘lower energies’ as those card carriers of the woo woo community (like me) would say. I’ve discovered that even having a lifelong faith doesn’t mean you’re always living at a higher level, just as those who don’t consciously have a faith, especially not my faith, can walk a higher path.

I believe, with many others, that this is the time when our old structures will fall, to be replaced by ones which are rooted in different values.

I was asking myself what I would do if I was tasked with responding to the virus. And my first thought was: breathe, then pray. I don’t know how many world leaders did that, but it’s something we’re not encouraged to talk about. We’re also not expected to talk about feelings, especially not love, in politics or business or education or health. We disregard the nonquantitive, non empirical, the non corporeal. And I think this is where we have gone wrong.

I was first drawn to the Green Party – of which I now consider myself ‘a candid friend’ – because the first policy document of theirs I read 10 years ago hinted at spirituality, and it also began by asserting the equality and value of all living things.

We’re so used to systems where not everyone matters and not everyone wins. We are run by wanting money in one way or the other, by what we own and who owns us.

This time has brought up the issue of personal sovereignty versus the executive powers of the state – even to close the churches on this most holy holiday. Although it is largely voluntarily to stop the spread of the virus, I am mindful that there are times when churches have been closed on government orders purely because they were disapproved of. I am not advocating selfishness and lack of responsibility, but I vociferously believe in our own agency especially over our own bodies, homes, and the healthcare we choose, and our right to worship, our right to think for ourselves, and I do advocate doubting until personally satisfied.

I think it’s vital that we remain aware and that what emerges out of this cocoon time is not a new normal where we no longer meet in person, mingle in groups or crowds, that everything we do is electronic which can be traced, with even greater reliance on technologies that are harmful to our health; that we remain compliant out of fear, and even begin to fear each other.

I want there to be an openness to ancient ways as well as new, to diversity and divergence. I’m reminded of that film and book trilogy by Veronica Roth about a dystopian post traumatic city which is divided into factions, according to personal traits. The leaders are desperate to keep everyone in their factions, and despise and fear those who live outside the neat systems put in place by the city fathers. But – plot spoiler alert – our heroine, who is one of the dreaded Divergents who don’t fit, discovers that the city fathers designed this system so that society matured when it realised that Divergents were the key, not the enemy.

Those who didn’t fit the system didn’t threaten it, they completed it.

I think this is a lesson our world needs, for it is in the throes of hoiking out our divergents for fear of the new world that they especially might midwife. But we need to celebrate those we formerly thought of as aberrations, not fix and suppress them.

In traditional Easter theology, this is a time for overcoming the Enemy, and this year, more than ever, it’s a time to remember that our God has overcome death, fear, illness, and evil.

In Tom Robbins’ novel Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, he says that the enemy is not all the ‘others’ – other nations and ethnicities, the other sex, the other class, the other sexualities, the other faiths, and whatever else we may divide ourselves into and want to blame and set ourselves against. He says ‘the enemy is the tyranny of the dull mind’.

Philosopher Hannah Arendt wrote of ‘the banality of evil’ – that the ultimate darkness is not often charismatic or potent, but simply dull conformity. For her, it was the inability to think which made the execution of evil possible. And I would argue, to feel…. Outrage at injustice, but also love, a love that can’t allow injustice but that can still love those who do it, and have so much love that it pulls perpetrators out of their actions into wholeness, out of our own dullness into awareness.

I began by mentioning Mary Magdalene – and I’m almost done. Mary has become more and more important to me over the years, especially when I began embracing the Priestess path along side the Christian one. Elayne Kalila Doughty calls the priestess path ‘the vow to walk as love’. I have taken that, and realise I can live that without a dog collar or a torque.

I’ve learned, or am learning, that the telos of love is to love without needing a response; that love can take many forms, and at this time of ascension, that we are especially called to expand our expressions of love beyond the factions laid out for us by old paradigms – for perhaps those who laid them out also had the notion that the ultimate maturity was when we learned to live beyond them. Much of our love, like our law, is possessive, exclusive, right and wrong, win and lose; it requires permission, it has territories, it’s proprietary.

I believe that today we celebrate the rising of the One who burst all that. I think his relationship with Mary Magdalene was one that defied categories. Jesus isn’t to me just the Christ Conscious one; for me, he is God, who rose in physical form, and what he embodied and taught is something we can share in, as Mary did – for she best understood him and preached his message. I see her as a special messenger, perhaps being to the Trinity what the RAC claimed to be to the emergency services. (Yes I did just say that the Trinity is a 4 leaf clover).

I’ve been watching Xena: Warrior Princess. I see myself as Warrior Priestess. Xena and her companion Gabrielle – whose love also defies categorisation – commit to following the Way of love and light, overcoming darkness in the world and themselves. They knowingly go to their crucifixon, followed by an incredible act of love and forgiveness, transformation and resurrection – just as we remember at Easter. I’m more convinced than ever that death is not the end and that and Love goes on, not just for Jesus, but all of us.

The Easter sermon that I best remember is from Durham Cathedral in 2005: that when Mary asked Jesus if he was the gardener, she was kind of right. Jesus is making a new creation and asking us to be part of landscaping, planting, weeding, watering and hoeing… for soon we shall be picking. I know I’ve barely quoted the Bible – and I enjoy biblical exposition – but I’m seeing that we’re called now to a faith beyond just the Book, beyond the words we call God. So as we awaken this Easter Day 2020, let us awaken in all senses, and have clear vision, and courage to love, to be the change in the world we seek, and with Jesus and Mary, be bringers of a new age.

Listen at https://yourlisten.com/BetweenTheStools/easter-2020-with-music and https://artradio.tv/elspeth-rushbrook (yes this site is safe but a warning comes up if you click this link direct from WordPress)

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7 Sayings – new music and words for Good Friday

Between The Stools launches here

This year we remember that not only will Sunday come for us in all senses, but that it has already come

Here are links to the service. Imagine me on a hill overlooking a city….

https://www.artradio.tv/elspeth-rushbrook/ 

It’s the audio (headphones symbol) under Artwork called 7 Sayings, also on the site’s home page – there is sometimes a security warning but I believe the site is safe (it is better when not accessed direct from this page)

or http://yourlisten.com/BetweenTheStools/7-sayings-2020

Easter image

(Any tech issues please email the above. There has been much wailing and gnashing of teeth over these…!!)

There’ll be another link early on Sunday morning

 

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