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God visitation, ruthless chastening: the Good God, and the oppressor

excerpted from IN AND OF: memoirs of a mystic journey, by Jack Haas

  

            

During my second year in Vancouver I had a dream in which I was being held down and helplessly pinned. I had the feeling of being absolutely immobilized by an incredibly strong weight, to the point that it felt as if I was going to be crushed and smothered.

                I awoke in a panic and with a dreadful sense of being oppressed, and yet at the end of the dream, just upon awakening, I knew that the oppressor ...was God.

                This ambiguity sat quite strange within me. I couldnít figure it out, because God was supposed to be a loving liberator, not an amorphous despot, and yet I could not deny what I had experienced. Nor did I know then what sort of forceful and ruthless chastening this dream actually portended. But over the next eight years or so, I was unavoidably going to find out.

                Iím thinking that this visitation, so to speak, may have come about partially as a result of my time with Glen, or perhaps it was due to my own introspection and questioning and an all consuming need to come to peace or freedom somehow, which created a window for God to look in and see a little maggot writhing about with a few books in front of him and a strong desire to grow wings and fly off of the stool. And that might have been enough to set the old curmudgeon after me.

In fact, I realized only after the terrible smelling salts had been administered that in the very desire to be a worthy part of this magical thing called life, I had released an army of angels, spirits, forces, or what have you, upon my limited being and destiny, and from that point onward all I could do was hang on and live it out, for a decision had been made, with or without my consent, I am not sure, but I am sure that life began to take on a glorious and yet arduous twist, because from then on I was never prepared for what was going to be asked of me, nor what was going to be given nor taken away.

                I turn away now at times when I see others in the first throes of the ghostís descent, because it is a horrible sight to witness Godís initial penetration into a personís well ordered and heavily guarded life, for the games will soon be done away with, the frivolity and entertainments are finished, and all the little hiding places are now ruthlessly exposed in the light.

                It is hard for people to accept that their Good God is responsible for a great deal of their pain. Though this is not done in malice, but rather like a parent who watches their child run out into busy traffic time after time, even though the child is told continually not to do it, until finally the parent realizes that if this behavior continues, the child will eventually be hit and killed, and so it is better to take out the whip and the cane and beat them until theyíll never do it again rather than let them die because you didnít care enough to hurt them.

                When God comes down like this, and infiltrates into the world, and you can see God passed around like a contagious disease into all the lives of all the unsuspecting people you meet who want nothing more than to continue on with their oblivious lives, you can be sure to witness agony, because the entrance of God into oneís life comes at a dear price- and that price is oneís life, and the price will be paid, and the house set in order, and the goad which accomplishes this through the traumas, and trials, and troubles which come, is as certain and irrevocable as the rising sun.

                Perhaps this is why the Prophets are always getting the pillory and the post, because it is they who bring the horrible consciousness of God into the unconscious lives of all others, and this begets the dreadful chastening destined to destroy a person and all they have in order to bring them into the perfection of the light. And the more a person has slept through their life- the more they have denied, repressed, hated, or caused harm- the more excruciating will be their redemption. But it will happen, to be sure. And when it does the poison of unconsciousness will be sucked out of the open wound which has been spilling forth bile onto its brethren, and the sore will be cauterized, and the unsightly scar will be the ticket to heaven.

Having said that, it would be quite a time before the long arm of the law was able to reel me in and subdue me. Oh, I put up one hell of a chase. A true bandit from the fire. I see now that often I was not trying to come to God, I was trying to get away. But I could never get away, for wherever I ran I always carried my cage.

In some ways I am still running, still being pursued, still being caught, bludgeoned, incarcerated, released, and then Iím off again, running wildly away from what I cannot get away from, but running nonetheless, away from the light, into the darkness, where none can find me, except the light, for the darkness is disintegrated by the light, and so Iím spotted again, chased again, caught again, and brought home again like the prodigal son in chains.

                Oh, the ways back home are as many as there are exits, and though I have tried to flee so many times, I now look back and see a circuitous spiral leading always back to God, a path on which I ran until exhausted in a direction which I could not avoid taking, although I avoided it all I could.

 

excerpted from:

author Jack Haas, west coast British Columbia wilderness, ocean forest island

 

 

IN AND OF: memoirs of a mystic journey

by Jack Haas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      

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Mystical books, visionary art, and fine art photography by Jack Haas

 

 

 

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