Jesus Christ and Mother Earth: revelations of a spiritual journey
Big Island, Hawaii
A book excerpt from the Iconoclast Press online library.
I returned for a visit with my twin soul, with the intent to stay for two full moons. And so we arrived on the Big Island a few days before Luna’s perfection, vagabonded about a bit, and then on the night of the full moon camped up on a high ridge, on the lip of the forested volcano located on the estate I had caretaken a number of years earlier.
That night we engaged in no ceremony or ritual- I do not believe in ceremonies or rituals- but enjoyed the clear sky, glistening stars, and radiant moon before falling to sleep in the wind and on the earth. Just as it should be.
We awoke just as the sun was coming up, and, turning around, we could see Luna’s complete orb setting in perfect unison with the rising of Sol. This was a blessed omen, for a number of years earlier, on a deserted beach in New Zealand, we had experienced the exact opposite astral occurrence, while watching a full moon rise as the sun was setting. And so we had finally come full circle, had seen ourselves through a sublime cycle in which we had descended into the darkness of the earth’s night together, wherein we had our many trials and misadventures, but then rose up together into the light of the sky. We had made it through the ambush of psychic chaos, and were now out of the discord of darkness.
All that had befallen us, and specifically me, over the years seemed now to be nothing but a result of a division which had been mended, and now new karmic dominoes were beginning to fall.
In fact, soon after that full moon, circumstances congealed into our meeting with a woman named Allanah, who was perhaps the closest manifestation to the Mother on Earth that I have ever encountered.
At fifty years old Allanah was the mother of five children ranging in age from three to twenty years of age. She had spent the last twelve years living directly upon the earth, under a large, palatial tarp- as many earth-children do on the island- where she cooked over an open fire, tended her garden and fruit trees, and gave shelter to those of Gaia’s offspring who were drawn into her midst. I say she was living upon the earth, but it would perhaps be more accurate to say that she was the earth, for she was a truly incarnate aspect of the Mother Earth herself.
As soon as my mate and I arrived on Allanah’s land I recalled a dream of perhaps six months earlier, in which I had been shown that area of the island, and had known in the dream that a very unique community existed there. And somehow, half a year later, through no effort of my own, I had been guided and welcomed to that very spot by the matriarch of the place. But that is the way of the spirit on earth, after all.
I was now on the Mother, and with the Mother, and it was not long before my own little microcosm in the macrocosmic play came full circle once again. And by that I mean that after a day or so at Allanah’s, my twin soul and I were offered to caretake a nearby property owned by a man …named Jesus. I kid you not. All is reflected through all. All is all. The actual is the myth, and the myth is the actual.
And though the Jesus owning the land was not Jesus, the Christ, still he was a man of generous being, and solid intent, and was by no means a scar upon the flesh of his namesake.
It appeared to me now that a lengthy chapter in the destiny of my life had run its course, and that the symbols of the manifest had mirrored back to me my awkward and imperfect journey, of courting the Mother, and serving the Son.
I was coming to see how truly involved we are in the creation of our own lives, how our thoughts and intentions play themselves out in both sublime and profound ways, and how the dominoes which I had set in motion, without knowing it, years earlier, had inexorably come to pass due to the karmic inertia of my own creative force. I say my own, but really I mean God’s, whose Self is my self, and also is not, for we are the same and yet different, which is a problematic bit of illogic which I still cannot understand but have come to accept it as true, for this, like all contradictions, are part and parcel of a singular universe necessarily composed of dualities.
The world is my dream, and the flesh is my dream also. I AM both, and in accepting myself as being and non-being, I become the immortal self of this mortal world, for I am where flesh and spirit come together, and where the Mother and Father, who had been at odds, are now married and in harmony as they unite, taking each other into account, and making love through me.
The other is the same and the same is the other. The stable is the evanescent, the one is the many, and the coming is the going amongst all that remains. If the universe is built of opposites, then the ephemeral is proof of the everlasting. Though just as all opposites are dualities of the One, so too the transient and the eternal are each themselves two halves of an ineffable whole. To seek only eternity is to obfuscate that which is beyond the concept of time. What is always, and what is fleeting, are the yin and yang of a cosmic mystery so profound, so outlandish, and so subliminal, that it can never be found for it is everywhere, and can never be known for knowledge itself is one of its aspects. And so it is futile to seek, to study, to surrender, or strive, for all of these are mere fragments of what encompasses them, and is them. And so the striving, and seeking, and surrendering are themselves but grains of sand on an infinite beach lapped by an unknowable ocean, and the farther shore is the nearest place imaginable, which is why we can never find it, because the moment we look it is gone, because no vision can see itself, no wind can blow itself around, and no mystery can comprehend itself. And for that I raise up my glass and shout out Hallelujah! Hallelujah!, because the earth is, because God is, because I am, and because it is all beyond itself, beyond reason, beyond knowledge, beyond time, emotion, hope, wonder, duality, oneness, sex, love, creation, destruction, being, and nothingness. It is all beyond itself, and this is the glory, the perfection, the philosopher’s stone: to finally arrive and be nowhere, to finally understand and be dumb, to finally bridge the incomprehensible gap, and so to become both the agonizing part and the ecstatic sum.
(excerpted from Roots and Wings: adventures of a spirit on earth, by Jack Haas)
Books by Jack Haas. Autobiography, Memoir, Spirituality, Mysticism, Comparative Religion, Poetry, Art, Photography.