“Earthquake!”
It was my first thought.
Fear and anxiety gripped me.
I had been suddenly awakened in the night. My
bed trembled and shook.
Lifting my head up off the pillow, I looked up
at the dimly lighted picture hanging on the wall opposite me. Strange, it was
not moving back and forth as I had come to expect during an earthquake.
I listened for the sound of the building timbers
creaking, but heard nothing.
A memory flashed into my mind: The last time
this had happened was when Jesus awakened me to give me a special message.
With the bed still vibrating, a voice suddenly
spoke into my ear.
“I am coming soon. You have got to do my work.
Time is running out”.
It's Jesus,
I thought. The voice was unmistakable. It had a strange calmness overlaid with
a tone of authority.
I strained myself to hear more.
There was only silence. I also noticed the bed
had stopped shaking.
In my mind I had the powerful, intuitive
thought that Jesus was going to permanently appear in the world in about
fifteen years' time. It was as if Jesus
had implanted that knowledge directly into my brain, without my having
consciously heard it.
The message from Jesus sent a wave of anxiety right through me. I knew I had been
dragging my feet when told to do one-on-one personal witnessing to people in
the shopping malls. I felt guilt about my timidity.
As I lay in motionless introspection, I
realized that the purpose of Jesus'
message was to inform me that I needed to make haste in my evangelizing
efforts. Time was running out. I needed to make a greater effort to help
proclaim the good news of his soon return so the world would be ready to
receive him when he made his public, physical appearance, his glorious second
coming.
In spite of my fear and reluctance to do the
witnessing work, I resolved to put much more effort into my commitment to carry
out the will of my master, no matter what he told me to do.
I thought about the prospect of Jesus returning
at the turn of the century. What an incredible event that would be. I was sure
I would receive my due reward from him when he came.
A couple of weeks passed. Early on a Sunday
morning, I started my meditation as usual. After lighting candles on the altar
in my apartment, I said intercessory prayers, concluding them with, “I ask this
in the name of Jesus Christ”.
After about a half hour of deep meditation, I
started to receive clear directions from my inner voice of conscience. “Go down
to Venice Beach and preach the gospel”, it said.
Fear flooded over me. Though my entire body
started to feel hot, I especially noticed a strong sensation of heat in the
area of my heart chakra. I tore off my sweater, even though the room was fairly
chilly. The energy present felt powerful.
I seemed to know intuitively that the direction
was for real because the energy was so strong. I fantasized preaching the
gospel to a small crowd of curiosity seekers on the beach boardwalk.
I thought to myself: If God wants me to start preaching in public, I will have to do it. It
seems I have received the commission. I don't want to go, but the time has come
for me to start public preaching.
I reasoned that every disciple sooner or later
receives the call to deny himself and take up his cross. Now it was my turn to
die to self.
The inner voice spoke again: “The harvest is
plentiful but the workers are few”, it said quietly.
Then another Bible verse came into my mind as I
contemplated the project before me: “Anyone who does not take his cross and
follow me is not worthy of me... Whoever loses his life for my sake will find
it”.
In my imagination, I again fantasized, seeing myself
standing beside the beach boardwalk. I held a large Bible in my hand and boldly
preached to the people passing by. The more I thought about the scene, the more
I filled with apprehension. What if no one will listen? What if someone starts
to become violent with me? What if someone calls the police?
I reasoned that if I were to become an
evangelist, I would have to make a start somewhere. Who knew; perhaps I would
build up as large a ministry as Kenneth Copeland's.
In a way, the idea of preaching the gospel at
the busy beach boardwalk seemed a more acceptable proposition than doing
one-on-one witnessing in the fashionable malls.
I decided to obey the meditation command
without further hesitation. I knew it would be useless to resist anyway. I
thought, “If God wants me to preach,
then that is what I will have to do”. All preachers have to start sometime;
perhaps it is better to be thrown straight into the deep end. I further
reasoned that it appeared God wanted
me to dispense with seminary training and all that sort of thing, and I was
required to just get out there and preach the Word.
“Do it. Go”, the inner voice kept prompting as
I continued with my meditation. “The power of God will be with you. Go!”
Without further introspection, I said special
prayers for blessing on my preaching effort. Then I walked over to the closet
and pulled out my best brown suit. All the great preachers on TV seemed
immaculately dressed in a suit, collar, and tie. I reasoned that I should dress
the same way. I straightened the tie in the mirror, picked up my Bible, and
headed toward the boardwalk in my white, late-model Pontiac Sunbird.
During the fifteen-mile drive to the beach, I
soon started to feel absolutely sick in the pit of my stomach from fear. In
spite of my resolve to do the will of my Lord,
at every intersection, I felt like aborting the trip and driving away somewhere
to escape. How nice it would be to visit a museum or hike in the mountains or
just drive out into the desert.
My wandering imagination was brought to
attention by the stern voice of my conscience. “Keep straight ahead”, it
scolded.
“Go to the beach and preach”.
“You have to do this work”.
“Time is running out”.
“Go and preach”.
I fantasized being ridiculed by teasing
unbelievers. I imagined someone confronting me and threatening to call the
police if I didn't stop disturbing the peace. I started to hope that the drive
to Venice would never end, or that with luck, I would be involved in an
accident.
However, no matter how sick with fear I felt
inside, I was determined to respond to the great commission call. I had faith
that I would receive divine protection. Perhaps even Jesus himself would stand
beside me unseen and would assist me in my debut performance.
Feeling hot and uncomfortable in the car, I
turned up the air conditioning to high. My chest tightened as if a thick steel
band was squeezed around it.
“Keep going. Don't back down now”, the voice
interjected.
Finally I joined the queue at the parking lot
entrance. In a state of shock, I observed the area. It had been some five years
since I had last visited the boardwalk as a curiosity seeker, and I had
forgotten what a dilapidated, run-down area it was.
I decided to first explore the mile-long main
section of the boardwalk in search of a suitable location were I could stand
and effectively preach to the passersby.
I walked down the busy, crowded 15-foot-wide
pedestrian street. An assortment of mostly older buildings - housing cafes and
stores - lined the inland side of the boardwalk. The ocean side of the
boardwalk comprised a wide strip of grass covered park area dotted with palm
trees. Street vendors lined the sidewalk, selling all kinds of gadgets. At
intervals, street performers peddled their artistry. I saw a fire eater,
several solo musicians, musical bands, and even a chain-saw juggler.
The farther I walked, the more dejected I became.
I brushed past hobos who looked mentally ill and in need of psychiatric care.
Others suffered from horrible sores and skin diseases. I walked past punk
rockers with large safety pins piercing their ears and with tattoos displayed
on their arms. Homeless out-of-towners with sleeping bags strapped to their
backs hobbled along, looking as if they were searching for their fortune.
While my attention seemed to focus mainly on the
bums, they were actually in the minority. Regular weekenders taking a leisurely
stroll in the sun made up most of the crowd. Some of the passersby even looked
like affluent businessmen taking their wives out for an interesting Sunday
adventure.
I had lost all enthusiasm, but forced myself to
continue searching for a suitable preaching spot. The noise, the stench of booze,
and the aroma of marijuana started to become sickening. I passed one street
performer who appeared to be some kind of circus daredevil. He had spread out a
large plastic mat covered with broken glass. His repertoire of feats included
walking barefoot over broken glass bottles with sharp, jagged edges.
“I have had enough!” I said angrily to myself
when I saw what he was doing. “This place is not for me”.
In my thinking I said, “I don't care what God wants me to do; I am not going to
preach here”.
Turning around, I headed back to the car in
disgust, shocked to think that Jesus would send me to this terrible abode of
evil. In a temper I told myself, “The idea to preach at this place must have
been a joke. I am never ever going to return”.
Jumping into the car, I slammed the door and
roared off.
The next Sunday morning during my meditation, I
received an impression to attend a certain Christian church that I had never
been to before but which I had passed each morning on my way to work. I had
often thought about attending it just to see what kind of church it was but had
never made any attempt to visit it.
Christ's Community Church was fairly small and
seemed to have a conservative atmosphere. I arrived early enough to attend the
Bible-study class held in the pastor's office. We read one of Paul's shorter
epistles and followed this with a prayer session to seek the Lord's blessing
upon the worship hour.
As the organist began playing the prelude, I
entered the sanctuary and sat down quietly in a pew. Opening up the program
bulletin, I glanced over the order of service. The closing prayer hit me in the
eyes; I couldn't believe what I was seeing. There before me was printed The
Great Invocation - the most important prayer of the New Age movement. The
prayer was commonly seen in the Alice Bailey books, the metaphysical works
published by the Lucifer Publishing Company, later renamed Lucis Press. Of
course, New Agers consider Lucifer to have been a great king of Israel, not a
fallen archangel.
I thought it wonderful that this New Age prayer
was used in some Christian churches, but was surprised to find it used in what
appeared to be a conservative church.
The order of worship and the sermon were just
like what I had come to expect in any regular Christian church. I saw
absolutely no indication that this church was in any way connected with the New
Age, other than the fact that the New Age equivalent of the Lord's Prayer was
being used for the benediction. I very much doubted whether any of the
congregation knew where the prayer came from. I thought, “The Lord must have inspired me to come to this church to let me
know that his New Age energy really is beginning to manifest itself, even in the
traditional churches”.
It occurred to me that Jesus was showing me that if I faithfully carried out my evangelizing
work, I, too, could have my own Christian church, similar to this one. I even
wondered if the Lord was planning to
have me join this community church in order to assist in the introduction of
other New Age ideas into its teachings.
I joined the friendly church members in their fellowship
luncheon, but did not mention anything about my doctrinal beliefs or New Age
background.
In my meditations, the Lord impressed upon me the need to return to Venice to start a
beach ministry. However, I was informed that the ministry was not meant to be
conducted quite the way I had originally visualized. I was given a new
perspective as to how I should do my “preaching”.
In meditation, I visualized myself standing at
the side of the boardwalk. Beside me stood a large sign displayed on an easel,
the type used by artists to hold their canvas. The controversial message
written on the sign was designed to attract attention. People stimulated by the
sign and its message would then come over to me and ask me about my religious
views. In this way I would be able to witness effectively to them. I was given
clear instructions regarding the design of the poster display, including the
appropriate wording.
I proceeded to purchase the easel and art
materials, and then carefully made the sign. After finishing it, I thought to
myself: Jesus is very smart to have
impressed me in such a way; the idea for the sign is brilliant. I was very
pleased with it.
The inner voice told me that initially I was
not assigned to preach out loud to the passing crowds on the boardwalk. Jesus wanted me to attract people's
attention with the special sign and then witness to them individually as they
asked me questions. In this way I could spread the gospel and gain practice in
the skill of persuasive speech, a necessary prerequisite to any future public
evangelizing activity.
Even though the new assignment better suited my
personality, I was still apprehensive about going to Venice again. I kept
wondering what Jesus would want me to
do next and found myself hoping that the weekend would never come.
Saturday morning did arrive. During my
meditation I received confirmation that I needed to proceed to the beach as
planned. “You do not have any choice”, the voice insisted. “You have to do this
work; it is your destiny plan. The Father
will bless you. Go forth in strength and preach!”
This time I left my suit and tie in the closet.
I had been impressed to dress casually in order to blend in with the beach
scene.
I packed the sign and easel into the trunk of
my car and set off for Venice. I again felt a nauseating apprehension and
tightening chest, but tried to ignore them. I knew that if I wanted to continue
in God's grace, I had to do this
work.
I remembered the biblical account of Jonah and
his flight from the task the Lord had given him - to go and preach in the city
of Nineveh. I felt like running away, just as Jonah had.
“Lord, why me?” I asked in my thinking.
“Why not someone else?”
“Why does it have to be me?”
There was no answer in reply except the words, “You
have got to do my work”.
I finally arrived at the boardwalk parking lot.
My plan was to quickly scout around for a suitable spot and then, without any
hesitation, set up the display sign and carry out my work. I had committed
myself that, come what may, I would stay for at least a full hour.
Even though it was not quite midday, the boardwalk
was already fairly busy. I walked briskly down the boardwalk, trying to ignore
all the bums and dopers, and intent on finding a suitable spot to set up the
sign.
About a quarter of a mile down the boardwalk a
voice inside my mind suddenly interjected, “Here!”
“This is it, right here. This is the place”, it
exclaimed.
I was standing in front of a small Jewish
synagogue positioned right up against the edge of the boardwalk. The facade was
painted white and had two large brown wooden doors at the front, one with a
large star of David painted on it. The front wall had Hebrew words written on
it along with an English sign displaying the name of the synagogue.
I noticed that the street vendors and
performers seemed to have avoided this little stretch of the boardwalk, as if
giving respect to the holy place of worship. Across from the synagogue was a
nice place where I could conveniently put up the sign and face the walkway.
With the synagogue opposite me, it was a perfect spot. The people would have
only two things to catch their attention as they walked by: my sign or,
directly across from me, the synagogue.
I thought to myself, If Jesus preached outside
the temple in Jerusalem, I don't see why I shouldn't preach outside of a
synagogue in Venice.
Hurrying back to the car, I unloaded my sign
and easel, recited a prayer for God's blessing, and then hobbled along with the
bulky equipment under my arms, feeling terribly self-conscious. I almost wished
I could hide the sign until I arrived at my destination.
I was relieved to find the space still vacant.
With a certain amount of trepidation, I set up the easel, placed the large sign
on it, and stood at attention next to my grand announcement.
The sign caused quite a stir with the crowd.
Immediately a young couple stopped in their tracks as they passed in front of
me.
“Where is he, then?” the man eagerly asked.
The unusual sign had grabbed their attention.
In the center of the large poster was a colorful copy of the famous Warner
Sallman painting of the face of Jesus Christ. Above the picture of Christ's
face was written in large, bright-red letters:
IF YOU ARE WAITING FOR THIS MAN TO COME, YOU
ARE WASTING YOUR TIME.
Below Sallman's picture of Christ was written:
BECAUSE I CAN TELL YOU WHERE HE IS!
I eagerly replied to the couple, “He has never
left this planet. He is still here. But he does not exist in a flesh and blood
body anymore. He let go of his flesh body after the ascension. He now exists in
his spirit body and lives upon the spirit realms.
“How do you know?” the man asked dubiously.
“I know because I have seen him”, I replied
boldly.
“He has appeared to me, he has given me healings, and I am a follower
of his teachings.
The couple seemed interested.
“You see, Jesus has never left the planet”, I
explained. “He is still here. After his ascension, he did not travel to
somewhere in outer space”.
Pointing up to the sky, I said, “The heavenlies
are not some place out there. The heavenlies are right here on this planet”. I
waved my arms in an arc, indicating our present environment. “The heavenlies
are simply a different dimension of our normal existence. Heaven is not some
place in the cosmos; it is located right on this planet”.
I asked the couple, “Have you ever had a vivid,
lucid dream so powerful that, upon waking, you were convinced you had been to a
real place but you didn't know were it was?”
The woman nodded her head as if she related to
what I was saying. Her boyfriend gave me a blank stare.
“In those kinds of dream experiences, you have
not been just dreaming. You have actually visited real places in your soul
body. You have been on a trip to the lowest levels of the spirit realms”.
I explained further. “Now Jesus does not live
on those lower levels; he exists upon higher levels of the spirit realm. But
those spirit realms are right here on our planet - they are just in a different
dimension”. Pointing to the ground I commented, “Jesus is still right here in
this world. He has the power to pass from the spirit dimension into our
material dimension at will”.
The couple now started to look a little
confused, so I raised my voice.
“Jesus
has power. He has the power to heal you and help you in your life. He can speak
to you through the practice of prayer and meditation. He is really right inside
of you. All you need to do is meditate, and he will teach you how to live
abundantly. He will heal you. He is God,
he is omnipresent, he is everywhere, and he has the power to heal you and bring
wisdom into your life”.
The male companion started to look a little
disinterested. I struggled to hold his attention. “The voice of God is right inside of you, if you will
only take the time to meditate and listen to him”, I said.
I hesitated for an instant to catch my breath.
The man nudged his companion to move on.
My sign was attracting a lot of attention. Some
people laughed when they saw it. Others looked more serious, and then glanced
at me, as if to say, “Hmmm, I wonder who this guy is”.
When my legs started to tremble with tension, I
deliberately breathed deeply, a technique I had learned in bioenergetics
training years before. This deep breathing brought on calm and strength.
Three young punk rockers approached me.
“Where is Jesus, then?” one of them asked.
“He is right inside of you”, I replied as I
pointed to the youth's chest.
One of the youths asked sincerely, “In what way
can he help me?”
“Jesus
has power”, I replied. “He is God. He
can transform your life if you let him. For instance, if he took over your
life, you could become president of General Motors. There is no limit to what God can do in your life. But you must
meditate and seek his presence first”.
I gave the guys further encouragement before
they left.
At one point an elderly man started telling me
how he liked to read the Bible. Glancing aside, I noticed a police patrol car
slowly working its way through the people as it came up the boardwalk.
Shifting my focus back to the man, I commented,
“Reading the Bible is good, but it has its limitations. It does not tell you
what God wants to communicate to you right now. The only way to know God's will
for you right now is to meditate and listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit”.
The police car came nearer.
Feeling uneasy, I glanced over to the
synagogue.
The car reached my spot and stopped.
I wondered whether I was doing anything
illegal. Perhaps the synagogue people had filed a complaint.
The officer poked his head out of the open
window and asked, “Where is he then?”
His colleague in the car peered at me with a
grin on his face.
“He is right inside your patrol car”, I replied
with a big smile on my face as I pointed straight at their vehicle.
I explained my gospel message to the officer.
He thanked me and proceeded with his patrol.
Many people approached me and asked, “Where is
he?” Sometimes they stayed for quite a while listening to my discourse. At
other times they began to walk away after my opening sentence. Some people were
very serious in their questions; others looked for fun and entertainment.
One man told me that he was a backslidden
believer. At the end of our conversation he said he was going to start
attending church again because of my encouragement.
The main emphasis of my message was to tell the
inquirer about the reality of Jesus'
existence on the planet and to tell him about the importance of meditation as a
method for gaining access to his great wisdom and healing power. If I could
only persuade people to meditate, I knew that the voice of the higher self -
that clear, quiet voice of the inner conscience - would do the rest in bringing
the person onto a spiritual path. I hoped the seeker would find the New Age Christian path.
I stayed at the beach all afternoon, witnessing
to all kinds of people - Christians, Hindus, atheists, agnostics, and New
Agers. For each type of person, I was careful to tailor my basic message to be
acceptable for their individual background. The witnessing turned out to be a
successful venture.
As dusk began to descend, I started to pack up.
I returned home feeling tired, but exhilarated. It was as if I had broken
through a block by doing the work I had been commanded to do. The release and
the inner joy I regarded as a special reward from God for my successful
accomplishment.
The wonderful feeling of joy and exhilaration
lasted for a few days. I felt really high and even looked forward to visiting
the beach again the next weekend.
The sign did its job beautifully, enabling me
to witness to a lot of people. However, I now realized that I needed a handout
for seekers and passersby.
In my meditations I received the inspiration to
write a brochure called “The Search for Happiness”. I listed my ministry under
the name Light of the Way, a variation on The Lighted Way. I chose the name in
honor of The Way, the first name given to the early church as recorded in Acts.
In order to have a contact address printed on this publication, I obtained a
post office box and subsequently had hundreds of the brochures printed.
I spent almost every Saturday and Sunday
afternoon witnessing at the beach boardwalk. The great feeling of exhilaration
that I felt after my first visit was never repeated again. It was simply a
matter of doing God's work, a
somewhat tiring work, but a work that I had been specifically commissioned to
do. I met all kinds of people and started several friendships, with some people
coming to see me each week on a regular basis.
I learned to be more careful when speaking to my
“fellow” Christians; I didn't want them to have the wrong impression about my
ministry. It was best to first ask each inquirer if he was a Christian. If the
person answered Yes, I phrased my ideas so that they were more compatible with
traditional Christian beliefs. If the person answered, “No, I am not a
Christian”, I knew I had much more liberty in the statements I could make to
them.
For example, when addressing New Agers, I would
openly tell them that I used to be a New Ager. I informed them that Jesus Christ had come into my life, and
I had become a New Age Christian. I
told New Agers, I had discovered that Jesus
has far more power than my former Hindu guru, and I explained to them that Jesus Christ was head of all gurus and
masters.
“Jesus
Christ is King of kings and Lord of lords”, I would say. “All masters and
gurus are subordinate to him, and you are better off going right to the source
of all power. If you pray and meditate upon Jesus
Christ, you will start to have miracles happening in your life. That is
what happened to me”.
I was impressed to write a second brochure.
This one discussed Christian meditation and gave specific instructions on how
to do the meditation techniques I had learned at the New Lighted Way. I gave
out copies of it to the diligent seekers.
After I had spent several weeks on duty at the
beach, a few individuals started to come to me on a regular basis for counsel
regarding their personal problems, usually difficulties they were having in
their relationships or in their religious experience. At the end of most
counseling sessions, I would rest one hand on the brother's shoulder, hold my
other arm in the air, and say aloud a prayer of intercession. I concluded each
prayer with this invocation: “Heavenly Father, we ask this in the name of our
Lord Jesus Christ. Amen”. One man with a history of mental illness gave me his
address and asked me to keep in touch with him. I was impressed to write him a
long letter of encouragement.
I became acquainted with a woman who lived in
an apartment on the boardwalk very near to my spot. She confided that a couple
of years previously she had seen Jesus
appear right on the stretch of beach near where I had the sign. She said, “As I
was sitting on that bench over there, suddenly a bright and shining figure
appeared standing on the sand about thirty yards away. I knew it was Jesus. I turned around to a lady who sat
next to me and said to her, 'Look there, can you see him?' After a few moments,
Jesus mysteriously disappeared”.
Some people hung around for a long time, asking
me all kinds of questions. One lawyer asked me what I thought of the second
coming of Christ. I happily explained the nature of that very important event.
“Jesus
has already appeared to people on the planet”, I told him. “But this is not his
full second coming. Jesus Christ will soon appear in our world in a real
physical body, just like the one he had in Palestine”.
The lawyer then asked, “When will Jesus come?”
“I expect him to appear in about fifteen years.
At least that is what he told me a couple of months ago”.
The man grimaced as if surprised by my answer.
“He will soon materialize himself in another
flesh-and-blood physical body”, I continued. “He will then appear in the world
permanently in order to claim his rightful position as Lord of lords and King
of kings. This will be his second coming. He will come to set up his kingdom.
He will inaugurate the millennium, and we will have a thousand years of peace
and prosperity. The biblical book of Revelation prophesies all this”.
“Will he appear in the clouds?” the man asked.
“Let me make one point clear. Do not expect Jesus to appear in the clouds of the sky
with all his angels. It is not going to happen that way. The Bible term clouds
is symbolic of etheric 'substance.'”
Another person started to listen in.
“When Jesus returns, the atmosphere surrounding
him will sometimes have a mistlike vaporous quality to it. This is what is
meant in the Bible when it says he will appear in clouds”.
My statement was in total contradiction to the
clear description Christ gave of his second coming, as recorded in Matthew
24:27, 30, 31.
On a few occasions, a whole group of people
gathered around me to hear what I was saying. When this happened, I raised my
voice and boldly preached to them in exactly the manner I had planned on doing
the very first time I came to the boardwalk in response to the command of Jesus telling me to preach the gospel.
A few individuals offered to help me in my
work. I became friends with one young man in particular. A newly baptized
Christian and a keyboard player in a Christian band, he was very interested in
my mystical experiences. We had dinner together on a couple of occasions, and I
gave him counseling and encouraged him to practice meditation.
While I found the beach ministry almost enjoyable
in a sense, I still loathed doing the mall witnessing work. I avoided doing it
whenever I could and only did it when I was absolutely forced to.
I was supposed to do the mall witnessing in the
evenings after work as a supplement to the weekend beach ministry, but I had
done very little of it compared to what I sensed the Lord wanted me to do. Instead of witnessing, I often copped out
by intentionally working late at my job and then going straight home to read my
Bible or study other Christian literature.
One Sunday morning I received clear
instructions to go down to Venice Beach as usual. As I was leisurely driving
down the freeway, the inner voice suddenly burst forth in my mind. “Turn around”,
it said. “There is a change of plan. You have to do mall witnessing today. Turn
back and go to Carson Mall”.
“Oh no!” I exclaimed, “is this for real?”
Feeling apprehensive, I did not know what to
make of this unexpected intrusion, especially since I hated the prospect of
going to the mall. Reasoning that the voice could have been nonsense coming
into my mind from the astral realms, I listened for more. Not hearing anything
further, I continued to the beach, although I felt a little guilty.
As I drove along. I completely missed my
freeway turnoff. Strange, I thought, I have never done that before.
I proceeded on with the intention of taking the
next turnoff. I missed that offramp too. It was as if my mind had gone blank. I
began to wonder if these gross navigational errors were omens indicating that I
should have turned around when I originally heard the unexpected instruction. I
started to feel uncomfortable and wondered whether I should turn back and go to
the mall, but I reasoned that it was too late - I was already near the beach.
I meditated in the beach parking lot. My higher
self seemed to tell me to stay at the beach and set up my sign as usual, but
the direction was not very clear. Not receiving any further directions, I
decided to stay at the beach.
I did the work successfully and stayed at my
post all afternoon. My good Christian friend from the musical band came to
visit me. He shared with me his vision that at some point in the future we
should set up a stage and preach the gospel to the beach people, using
loudspeakers and a live Christian rock band.
“This is exactly what I have thought myself”, I
told him. Then I shared other ideas I had on how I planned to expand the
ministry in general, such as renting a recording studio and making tapes for
radio broadcasting with purchased air time.
Trying to convince people to turn to Jesus
Christ was tiring work. Dusk finally arrived, and I set off for home feeling
drained and ready for a good rest.
During the drive back home, I noticed I was
starting to feel rather depressed. By the time I arrived home, depression
haunted me like an assassin. I felt terrible.
As I walked into my apartment, the inner voice
abruptly pierced into my mind. “See, you should have turned around and gone to
the mall as I instructed on the freeway”.
I realized that I had made a mistake in
ignoring the surprise instructions.
“You have to be prepared for my instructions at
all times”, the voice of conscience reprimanded. “You must do exactly what I
tell you. I demand obedience”.
I started to feel anger toward Jesus for his reprimand, especially
since I was exhausted from the long day of doing his missionary work. I looked
up at the Sallman painting of Jesus that was hanging on the wall. I could not
understand why he should withdraw his grace and allow me to be punished with
depression, just because I made an error of judgment.
Anger boiled up inside of me. I suddenly
grabbed a sharp carving knife from the kitchen counter. In a fit of rage, I
lurched toward the painting of Christ. Standing in front of the picture, I
aggressively pointed the cold steel blade at Jesus.
''You bastard”, I said angrily.
My jaw tried to clamp down on the words.
“You ____ bastard. I spend all day doing your
work, and then you try to torment me like this”.
Then I started to shout in a muzzled voice, “You
bastard. I hate you”.
Furiously, I waved the knife in front of Jesus.
“I could kill you for doing this”. I shouted aloud.
After a moment's hesitation, I turned around
and took a couple of steps away from the picture. Turning around again to face
the painting, I pressed the steel blade against my stomach and glared at Jesus.
“You're goin' to push me into doing this”, I
growled as the impulse to kill myself by hari-kari erupted in my emotions.
There was silence.
I turned away and put the weapon down, trying
to control my anger before doing something stupid.
Bending down, I took off my shoes. Suddenly I
seized one of the shoes and repeatedly banged it on the floor in a fit of
uncontrolled rage. I imagined that I was hitting Jesus right in the face.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
“You bastard!” I shouted at the top of my
voice.
“You swine!”
“I hate you!”
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
I repeatedly smashed the shoe violently onto
the floor with all my strength. It was as if I were exploding from all the
weeks and months of pressure that I had been subjected to in order to be forced
to do the mall and beach witnessing work.
The requirement to send more $1,000 checks to
Muriel in Texas had further aggravated my exasperation.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
My arm started to hurt.
I paused to catch my breath.
Looking up at the picture of Christ again, new
rage burst out of me.
BANG! I pounded the floor again.
BANG!
BANG!
“You ____ bastard!”
“Don't you dare do this to me!”
“I'll kill you for this”.
BANG!
BANG!
“You bastard!”
“I hate you!”
Exhaustion overcame me, and I finally stopped.
As I knelt there - panting like a mad horse, my hand numb from the pain of
bashing into the hard floor - I started to realize that what I had been doing
was terrible. Collapsing on the floor, I begged for forgiveness and mercy.
Tears ran down my face as, sobbing, I prayed to Jesus. “Lord please
forgive me. I understand why you are disciplining me so strictly. I know I have
to overcome my weakness and be fully obedient to your will. Please give me the
strength to overcome.
I believed that Jesus loved me and was stern because it was for my good in the long
term, and because the mission of spreading the gospel had to go forward with
haste. I told the Lord that I was
sorry for my loss of temper and outrageous blasphemy.
Strangely, as I begged for mercy. I somehow sensed
that Jesus was not at all offended by
my outburst. I intuitively felt that he was laughing at me. It was a strong
impression, as if I could clearly hear his laughter inside my mind. I felt that
I almost didn't need to ask for forgiveness.
I reasoned that because Jesus was God, he knew
about my frustration and chronic anxiety over having to do the witnessing work,
and he must have completely forgiven me, even before I begged him for it. He
had not been surprised by the tantrum.
Getting up off the floor, I noticed I didn't
feel any remorse over my blasphemous statements. The guilt had gone.
Intellectually, I knew I should feel guilty, but I didn't.
Walking into the kitchen, I noticed the
depression had lifted. I felt hungry and started to make supper.
You may be wondering if I ever had any doubts
regarding the identity of the spirit that ruled my life - whether he was the
true Jesus. The truth is, I never suspected I was a slave to demons
masquerading as agents of light. My confidence in the New Age path and the
spirit guides had been built up over many years. Once I had read the Alice
Bailey books, I became a devoted “believer” in the New Age, its spirit guides,
and its philosophies. I then became an easy candidate for total “possession”.
Almost nothing could shake my faith in what I believed and cause me to doubt
the authenticity of my spirit guide. Even my dedicated Bible reading could not
pierce through the web of deception because I was twisting the meaning of many
texts in an attempt to harmonize them with my existing metaphysical beliefs.
Satan has incredible powers of deception. This
is why cults are so enslaving. The victims have built up an almost impregnable
wall of faith around themselves based upon their acceptance of contra-Biblical
doctrines. Once a person is immersed in cults, it takes almost a miracle to
rescue him from the powers of darkness masquerading as agents of light. Satan's
power is incredibly strong. No wonder even the elect are at risk.
Jesus warned:
“Not everyone who says to me, “Lord. Lord, will
enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is
in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in
your name, and in your name... ?” Then I will tell them plainly, “I never knew
you. Away from me, you evildoers!” (Matthew 7:21-23).
Just because a person has a Bible in his hand
and is preaching a gospel in the name
of Jesus does not mean that the person is automatically a Christian, a true
witness for the gospel of Christ. As indicated in the scripture above, the
person who has a true relationship with Christ is “he ... who does the will of
my Father who is in heaven” (verse 21).
The will of the Father is revealed in the
Bible. If anyone is teaching contrary to the Word of God, he cannot have the
light of Christ. The Bible says, “To the law and to the testimony: if they
speak not according to this word, it is because there is no light in them”
(Isaiah 8:22, KJV).
Christians need to protect themselves from
false teachers and erroneous teachings by following the example of the noble
Bereans, who “examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was
true” (Acts 17:11).
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Chapter 12
