Damascus Path Revisited
Intro
It will be difficult for you to believe much of what follows. But this is the most literal and accurate telling I can muster. Like all human narratives, my stories are shrouded in fiction. It’s hard to say how much. You be the judge.
Before I begin, let me define some terms and provide some background so you better understand my perspective.
“Religion” is a pursuit or interest to which someone places supreme importance. It often includes belief in a supernatural, all-knowing, all-powerful being or force.
I despise fundamentalism, dogmatism, fanaticism, and other world-views that stifle sound, critical, scientific thinking. Any time religion and science collide on matters of fact, science should prevail, and any outdated religious beliefs should be accepted for what they are.
It is tragically ironic that many Christians and other “believers” (as well as secularists) will be put off by the foregoing paragraph and the ones that follow because this is the story about how I became a follower of Christ. This is a story about many things. This is a love story.
Let me add a caveat: all Homo sapiens have some religion. My religions are Critical Thinking, the Scientific Attitude, Fallibilism, and The Warrior Path.
“Critical Thinking” and the “Scientific Attitude” are plain enough. Others have written about them far better than I ever could. Simply put, I aspire to hold belief in proportion to the evidence. I don’t always succeed. And, let’s face it. It’s a lot of work. We’re all basically dumb apes.
“Fallibilism” is the view that nothing is provable with absolute certainty. To be clear, I believe in reality and truth independent of any mind. But I assert very little about the “ultimate nature of reality.” Fallibilism is an acceptance of the fundamental limitations on our ability to know anything. (See, above, “dumb apes.”) It is a position of deep humility regarding human knowledge. Any knowledge is provisional and may be false in the long run.
On the other hand, we can be justified in holding belief if we have sufficient evidence acquired through reliable means.
The Warrior Path is the disciplined pursuit, mentally and physically, to emulate the warrior archetype for the protection of one’s community and society.
My “religious” claims may seem odd given the accounts that follow. And like any religious person, my beliefs and actions often contradict my religious claims. People are wrought with contradiction and paradox. I am no exception.
To confuse the matter further, I propose there are universal spiritual truths, and they are necessary for full human flourishing. My hope is humanity will extract these essential truths from religious traditions through experience without appealing to an infallible authority or fundamentalist faith.
My father was a traditionally-trained Japanese potter who lived from September 19, 1948 to October 2010. He was a mad artist. I have a vague memory of him circa 1980–1981 in a fit of rage covered with dusty, clay shrapnel smashing his exquisite pottery against the wall of our old, run-down, Victorian home in Portchester, NY. I picture him in his young days as an expert Judo man. I was four years old when he moved back to Japan. I saw him again twice.
My mother was mostly heart. She was a fierce, emotional, and irrational New York Ashkenazi Jew born on April 13, 1948. She met my father traveling braless to study pottery in Japan. Doctors diagnosed her as narcoleptic. She could slip in and out of consciousness at will. She was a mystic. In the right time and place, no doubt, she would have been a shaman or medicine woman.
My mother remarried a Brooklyn-born Jewish entrepreneur and gave birth to my brother and sister. My step-dad was an ultra-long-distance bicyclist and a WWII hero, and he was almost 30 years older than my mom.
My step father died in 1992 when I was 15 years old, my brother was 7 years old, and my sister was 4. We lived in Bedford, NY less than 10 minutes from George Soros’s home.
Our house became the gathering place for anyone looking for refuge. We had a healthy exposure to Bob Dylan, 90’s NY hip-hop culture, athletics, total freedom, and just-enough-money-not-to-worry.
I performed my Bar Mitzvah on April 21, 1990 only because this was one of the few demands my mother ever imposed on me. But I never felt connection to Judaism. It never resonated, and I felt out of place. I dreaded going to Sunday school and temple. I found them boring.
Although I was not attracted to Judaism, I had spiritual questions as far back as I can remember. As early as 4 or 5 years old, I often felt suffocated by the inevitability of death and the possibility of absolute, final nothingness. It still grips me. Every person is born under the shadow of death. In the sheer vastness of time, the span of a human life is too small to measure. That you are conscious at this moment is a mystery as profound as any in the universe. I suspect anyone who peers into the darkness eventually faces this terror.
Green Gulch
May 1999, I graduated from college with a degree in philosophy. The day after college I moved to Green Gulch Farm, a Zen monastic intentional community in Mill Valley, CA 16 miles outside of San Francisco. Green Gulch is nestled in the California Coast Ranges. It is an idyllic setting in every way. I can still hear the distant waves crashing through the scent of lavender and apple trees.
For two years I meditated, farmed, loved, fasted, mountain biked, read, and ate mushrooms. I had some extraordinary experiences. But there was one exceptional experience that had deep, lasting effect on me. I believe it showed me something true about our existence as human beings.
During the summer of Y2K, I had been living the Zen-monastic-life for over a year. I just finished a seven-day meditation that lasted from Sunday to Sunday. That Monday, as I had been doing for several months, I assisted in facilitating a “stress-reduction class” at San Bruno County Jail. It was a meeting of 5–8 inmates for discussion and instruction on meditation.
This particular Monday, the classmates took turns sharing what caused them stress. One inmate told his story. I don’t remember his name. He was 21 or 22, tall and skinny, but strong, light-brown skin with a big afro. He was in jail awaiting trial for drug possession. This would be his third felony in California, and he had already spent most of his life incarcerated. He was HIV+ and addicted to heroin. His father beat and raped him as a child. When he was fourteen years old, the state placed him in foster care after he watched his father murder his mother. The young man visibly struggled to keep a mostly-cool facade. I could tell he’d told this story before. He was almost casual about it. But his eyes belied his pain.
It was the worst story I’d ever heard.
I was driving through San Francisco on my way home from the “stress-reduction class.” At a red light, I saw a mother struggling with her stroller. Suddenly, it was like I could feel the suffering this mother felt as a mother. I could feel the people on the sidewalks and in their cars. I could feel my own mother’s suffering and all the suffering of all the mothers and fathers and children. I could feel the suffering of all the inmates in every prison in the world. I could feel the suffering of their victims. I could feel the suffering of the universe. It’s cliche, but I don’t know how else to describe it.
It’s difficult to communicate the intensity. I had not cried since I was a small child, but it was like tears erupted through me from the center of the earth.
The 1-hour drive from San Bruno to Green Gulch took me 3 hours because I was crying, and when I got home, I sobbed for eight hours in the cool, incense-soaked silence of the meditation hall.
That day, I understood the interconnectedness of all suffering in the universe. I didn’t feel the tears were for me. I did not pity myself or others. Rather, I experienced suffering as an intrinsic characteristic of consciousness. But within suffering is a deep, interconnected, liberating compassion.
I am not claiming any attainment. I did not magically transform into a better person. But I had a glimpse at the Four Noble Truths taught by the Buddha, and they have informed my life since.
Before this experience, I was convinced of the benefits from meditation, i.e., relaxation, focus, and present-state-awareness (mindfulness). However, I was never able to reconcile my training in logic and epistemology with Buddhist claims about reality. I had been studying Buddhist concepts vigorously, but my comprehensions were, at best, confused and superficial. I did not understand them, and the empirical data was negligible. Nevertheless, suddenly, in that experience, the Four Noble Truths became clear and unavoidably compelling.
I am not making any assertions about the truth of Buddhism as a whole. Again, I think most of religion is nonsense. But now I believe passionately in the validity of specific claims. It has almost become trite in popular culture, but please allow me to reiterate: 1. Life is suffering; 2. Attachment to the fleeting self is the cause of suffering; 3. The keys to liberation lie squarely within deep awareness of the present moment, which leads to compassion; and, 4. This present state awareness is difficult and must be trained diligently through the 8-fold path.
Detour
I moved to New York City in August of 2004 to attend law school. After graduating, I immediately began my job paying off my school loans at the stereotypical New York firm. The horror stories are true.
I don’t carry any regrets because my scars give me strength. But there is plenty during this stage of my life about which I am thoroughly ashamed. Maybe I was compensating for my insecurities and the nagging emptiness expanding inside me. Perhaps I simply gave in to hedonism. Whatever my reasons, I tried to eat it, drink it, screw it, or otherwise consume it. I’m not sure how I didn’t develop a worse dependency on drugs and alcohol.
My first-wife, whom I met at Green Gulch, participated in all of it. Over our 9-year relationship, she molded her identity to fit what she believed I wanted, and it tore her apart. She concealed her heartbreak and despair. At the time, I convinced myself it was all okay. I took advantage of her, and, in retrospect, I was so stupid.
I justified my bad behavior based on my commitments to values like honesty, forthrightness, personal liberty and autonomy. And I suppose I was somewhat committed to those values. But, I had forgotten about honor, fairness, respect, sanctity, and, most importantly, care for the woman who depended on me. I had become an utter, complete douche. To those who knew me then, if I hurt you, I am sorry, especially to my ex-wife.
When the financial markets collapsed in the summer of 2008, the shell of what had become my life crumbled. My firm laid me off, and I had no prospect for employment. Within a matter of months, I lost every penny. I was up to my neck in law school debt, most of which I owed to my mother who was financially dependent on me. My emotional health rested precariously on my ex-wife, and, after 8 years of marriage, she left me to “find herself” in Spain with a new guy. I deeply loved my wife, but I broke her heart with my lust, greed, and moral confusion. She, in turn, did everything possible to hurt me, and she did it well.
I was alone, it was the Great Recession, I owed over $140,000 in school debt, and I was unemployed. My spirit was crushed.
With few choices, I moved to Sedona, AZ to study from a sword master.
I worked menial labor to bring in what little income I could. I slept on a cot in the storage closet of the dojo. My teacher let me stay for free.
Relative to how human beings can suffer on this earth, my situation was not that bad. But, to that point in my life, I did not know it was possible to suffer the way I did.
This was different than the suffering I experienced those years earlier at the monastery. This was much smaller, but I could not see anything else. I was nothing but sadness, and anger, and hatred, and weakness, and judgment. For months I would wake up sobbing every hour on the hour. This time, the tears were self-pity, loathing, and regret. I could not eat. I felt alone. It felt like the only thing keeping me alive was my sense of responsibility to my family and teachers. I was in Hell.
My ex-wife and I tried to reconcile, but our sins had caused irreparable damage. In 2011, after almost three excruciating years, we finally said goodbye. My choice immediately lifted a great weight off me. I felt happiness, freedom and power I had not felt for a long time.
I still struggled with my demons, as I suspect I always will. But something clicked. For the first time in my life, my only interest in a woman was finding a wife.
The Light
My wife, Emily, is the most beautiful, good-hearted, kind woman I have ever met. I feel love radiating off her like the sun. Her smile unlocks the light of God.
Days after we first connected, we became serious about a relationship. However, we had one significant difference that troubled Emily: she was a devout Christian, and I was a Jewish fallibilist and skeptic.
We spent hours discussing God and religion. I explained my beliefs about the limitations on knowledge, particularly as it relates to Christian Theology. History is incomplete and tangled in bias and fiction. Aside from specific, discrete, measurable phenomena, it is impossible to prove any historical event with any degree of scientific or logical certainty, especially if the events defy science and logic.
Therefore, it is impossible to prove that Jesus of Nazareth was the Son of God born of a virgin or that He was bodily Resurrected after the Crucifixion. But, to me, it didn’t matter. I could still happily be “Christian,” at least culturally.
I explained to Emily my view that an unprovable belief is a good one if it makes a person happier, more compassionate, more virtuous, or in some way improves his or her life. Given my disposition, I could not believe magic about Jesus Christ or the Resurrection, but it didn’t matter because at the time I was happy to raise our future children in Christian culture. I understood how it could enrich their lives and make them happier people. I believed this was a perfect compromise. Emily tacitly agreed.
Emily lived in Hawaii when we fell in love. Over the next few weeks, I visited her there, and we fell deeper in love.
On December 22, 2011, I was lying in bed. This is when it happened. It is difficult to describe the experience. My mastery of language is tragically inadequate. Had it not happened to me, I would have no reference. I would not believe it myself.
It was a dark night. The blinds to my room were closed. I was not sleep-deprived nor particularly tired. I was not aroused or emotional that day. I had eaten and drank as usual. There was nothing out of the ordinary. My mind was clear.
I turned off the lights to go to sleep. My bedroom was pitch-black. A few minutes after climbing in bed, wide awake, my thoughts went to Emily, and I could see her beautiful, bright smile in my mind’s eye. The familiar, deep compassion filled my heart. There was joy, but no sadness.
Suddenly it was like my chest opened, and white light reflected off my heart. The light filled the pitch-black bedroom. I could suddenly see everything as if I was under a full-moon in the desert night. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the room, but I could see clearly in hues of silver, white, and grey. I mean this literally. There was light.
I could not see through the walls of the room, but I “felt” the light from my heart expand past the room and infinitely into the universe. I looked to my right. A human-shaped figure made of white light and warmth stood by my bedside. He did not have any definable features, but he was clearly standing next to me. I looked directly at him to be sure. I could see lucidly and feel his presence as if he were any ordinary person standing beside me. But this was far from ordinary.
To claim that I “understood” is inaccurate. Stated slightly better, I “apprehended” and “felt” immediately with my heart. No words were spoken. The light, warm figure made no sounds or gestures. Yet somehow in that moment I apprehended that God is everywhere but not in one place. He is One and completely incomprehensible. To approach the vastness of the galaxies across every possible multiverse down to the depths of the smallest possible distance does not approach a superficial comprehension of God. To understand is impossible, but to deny His existence is also impossible and absurd, even unintelligible. To deny God is to deny everything and nothing. God cannot be seen or heard or touched or measured. Somehow we can only “feel” Him with our hearts.
I apprehended the figure standing by my bed, the light reflecting off my heart, and God — the Three — are all one-in-the-same. I directly encountered a tripartite “spirit.” At the same time, I apprehended the meanings of Jesus Christ, the Crucifixion, and the Resurrection.
I witnessed Christ as a symbol by which our limited human minds can approach an understanding of an incomprehensible God. His example — his life, death and resurrection — is the freedom from the suffering of our lives.
Christ is a guide and companion, Lord and Savior, to rescue us from the sins that destroy us. “Sin” is what makes us turn away from the light of God. Salvation is opening the heart to the Light and reflecting it into the world. These realities are eternal, outside of time, and the temporal comprehension of these realities is irrelevant.
Paradoxically, the oneness of God consumed my sense of an isolated self. I still experienced an individual, specific vantage point. I was still “looking out.” But my sense of self was somehow integrated with the oneness of God, and I was consumed by an overwhelming love, bliss, ecstasy, contentment, and serenity fundamentally unlike anything I have ever experienced.
To say these feelings were “complete” is vastly insufficient. It was the “peace of God, which transcends all understanding,” (Phil. 4:7). I felt no sense of excitement. There was no trace of fear. I experienced no confusion or ambiguity. I did not have the slightest hint of negative sensation whatsoever — not even the desire to hold on to the feelings. I knew without any doubt that everything was, is, and always will be perfect. I rested peacefully in this space for several minutes, and then I easily fell asleep.
I woke up the next morning rested and refreshed and still filled with love, ecstasy, contentment and serenity.
I dressed and left for work. As I was driving to work, the warm, light figure sat next to me in the passenger seat as if to confirm that the night before was not a dream or hallucination. This time he was not as visually apparent, but I could see him. I could feel his presence as strongly as I could the night before. I was overcome by the beauty of the red rocks of Sedona and the music coming through the car speakers.
After the car ride, he was gone, but the feelings remained for several days. The effects were persistent. To this day, albeit in a much more subdued way, I can bring forth remembrance of those feelings, and I can feel his presence next to me, guiding me.
Everything was, is, and always will be perfect.
REFLECTIONS
To understate the matter, I’ve had some unusual encounters. But the experiences I described above met me with undeniable brute force. I acknowledge that any man’s experience is unreliable. Especially when the experiences are, by their very nature, incredible.
It is impossible for me to prove or disprove the reality of these phenomena or the interpretations and meaning I have given them. I’ve presented context for these stories partly because I concede there are many ways to undermine the veracity of my claims. Nevertheless, I believe I found truth. (But let me be clear, I take my insights to be psychological and phenomenological in nature. I am not making metaphysical or ontological truth claims.)
Still, it’s possible my glimpse at the Four Noble Truths was no more than a deep but personal emotional release. It’s possible my encounter with the Trinity and my baptism by Jesus Christ were pure fictions. Perhaps, my eyes simply adjusted to the dark room, and my mind “created” Him to convince me of something I needed to believe in order to be with Emily. Maybe I made it all up, but I don’t think that’s the whole story.
If these were simply hallucinations, they were the most sober, clear and intense hallucinations I’ve ever experienced. They were both unlike any other experience I have ever had, and each of them were clear and distinct.
Some refer to these as “peak experiences,” or, perhaps, a variation of “flow” state. I think this is accurate to an extent. But some phenomena are not easily and completely confined to rational language. Perhaps the scientific method and human knowledge will never fully encompass some planes of reality. But that we cannot know them in the narrow sense does not necessarily mean they are not real. This is why humanity will always need philosophers, artists, musicians, poets, and mystics.
As rare and elusive as these experiences are, some are repeatable and non-idiosyncratic, and I believe they correspond to truth about human existence. There is a real spiritual world. On one occasion, I came to believe the Four Noble Truths are, in fact, true. On another occasion, “God in Heaven” directly revealed Himself as a Trinity and baptized me. That night I “apprehended” spiritual insights. First, God is beyond human comprehension. To talk about God is nonsensical, but he is somehow the oneness and wholeness of all things. God is ineffable, incomprehensible, yet expansive in nature. Second, the gate to this understanding is compassion through the heart, which is where the spirit of God dwells. He is somehow woven into the fabric of human consciousness, profoundly in the ever present NOW. We miss Him because He is so near. Third, it is by emulating the example of Jesus Christ that we can be free from anxiety, fear, sin and, ultimately, suffering.
To be sure, my beliefs diverge from Christianity in some fundamental respects. First, it does not matter to me about the Truth of the Birth, Crucifixion and Resurrection in a literal, temporal, historical sense. Nothing in my experience informs me about what happens in the beginning of time, after death, or forever after. I had no insight into the origin of the cosmos or the “ultimate nature of reality.” The human mind can never know with logical certainty the truth of Christian theology in an historical sense. Moreover, given the current state of human knowledge, it is highly improbable that most of the propositions are literally true.
It does not matter how afraid we are, the human mind can never know some things with certainty, true or not true. Our myths may be comforting to us, and to that extent, they are useful if we are able to believe them. That does not mean our fantasies are real.
Second, I believe the Bible is the word of God. But “word of God” is poetic language to signify it was written by inspired human beings. It is an important book, which stood the test of time. Everyone should read it. The Bible contains deep spiritual insights about the human condition. However, I do not take the Bible to be the literal, infallible word of God. My experiences do not speak to the infallibility of any book. No book is above scrutiny.
And I do not believe anything I’ve described because of what I’ve read. But some books contain useful frameworks to describe some of my experiences.
Nor do I believe the Bible is the only word of God. There are other scriptures written throughout history, which are also inspired. Given the nature of God, it seems far more likely God contains the Bible, rather than the Bible contains the entirety of God. The Bible does not hold a monopoly.
There is evidence throughout history that humankind has experienced overlapping spiritual Truths and articulated them in numerous colorful ways. It is probable humans have come to “know” God in many contexts using conceptual frameworks, which suited the times and culture. Every human is bound by limited intellect to describe experience.
It is our responsibility to judge where the Bible and all religious scripture are wrong — where we see metaphor, symbolism, outdated mythology, cultural, political and social influences, internal contradiction and inconsistencies, and just simple ignorance and wrong factual claims.
Scientific knowledge is also the word of God — ever changing, ever developing, ever expanding. Perhaps science is the loudest, most precise and accurate voice God uses to “speak” to human beings.
Third, God may or may not be a direct, active participant in our lives in the narrow, literal, anthropomorphic sense. It is unlikely, maybe logically impossible, that God has a single, distinct, isolated consciousness that acts in ways human beings can comprehend. The limited mind cannot contemplate God. And we cannot articulate God. But I can think of no better word for God. The word “universe” does not suffice. And like the word, “universe,” every other word has ultimately proven insufficient. Even the word “God” is inadequate, and it may not have any meaning at all. He does not fully submit to human understanding.
But anyone can access Him directly through the heart where the Holy Spirit dwells. It is through our access of the Holy Spirit, compassion, that God acts in our lives. So God persists in human consciousness.
And, finally, neither the Bible nor Jesus Christ are the only expressions of Christ-essence. While there is only one historical Jesus of Nazareth who provides the perfect ideal, Christ is eternal and extensive. He is outside of time and always has been. The Bible speaks of people who participated in Christ-like nature and were precursors to Christ’s arrival, e.g., Noah and Moses to name a few. Outside of Judeo-Christian mythology, the Buddha participated in this nature, as did others, many of which I am sure I am unaware. I take Avalokitesvara to be a Christ-like manifestation. Mother Theresa and the Dalai Lama are alike in this way. Ordinary people participate in Christ-nature each time we feel pure, genuine, compassion and love.
Let me also be clear that I AM NOT CLAIMING ALL RELIGIONS ARE THE SAME. To the contrary, fundamental, essential doctrines across religions diverge and contradict each other. It is logically impossible all can be true. It is more likely that most religious claims are simply wrong and should be relegated to their place in outdated human mythology.
But let me reiterate: there are real spiritual Truths. I believe I’ve directly experienced at least two: The Four Noble Truths as put forth by Buddhist scripture, and The Trinity with Christ as savior as expressed in parts of the Gospels. And I believe they are connected by the same compassion. Compassion is the keyhole through which we peek at the Light.
Anyone can access these realities directly through experience. They are independent of context, dogma and trappings of religion. Therefore, one doesn’t need to throw away reason, judgment and critical thought to accept them. There is much about religion that is simply nonsense. However, many religious traditions hold deep spiritual truths. There is a balance.
The Message
Jesus is real. He is here on earth. He is the Son of God, and we are His brothers and sisters. To take Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior is to follow his example and be free from suffering of sin. These are realities that are outside of history.
But was the actual man born of a virgin? Was he bodily Resurrected in the Flesh? Did this all happen at moments in the past in a literal, historical sense? Well, until sufficient evidence for these claims surfaces, which at this point seems impossible, it is not likely. We shall never know with logical certainty.
To accept these essential, eternal truths as I’ve described them does not mean we must accept every silly claim that has tagged along through the centuries. This is where I diverge most strongly from Saint Paul and his First Century Jewish sensibilities. To me, none of the nonsense matters. Further, I do not accept C.S. Lewis’ famous argument that Jesus was either “Lunatic, Liar or Lord.” He simply used the conceptual framework available to describe deep spiritual truths, and there is controversy over what Jesus actually taught.
It is our responsibility to remain critically minded and ever vigilant in every aspect of our lives. We must live in this world, the real world, make sound judgments, and use every faculty we have to protect what is good and what is right materially, intellectually, culturally, socially, as well as spiritually.
So, here is what I hope you take away from my stories. When I proclaim that I am a “follower of Christ,” and that He is my Lord and Savior, this is what I mean:
The essence of Christ is to identify not with the transient flesh of this body and the desires of this world, but with God, who is All and One. And in this identification be fully present and guided by the Holy Spirit. To follow the Holy Spirit is to follow God’s Commands — to love God and Humanity with all of your heart — which is the key to unlock the door to Heaven and complete Liberation and Salvation. Heaven is not some far off distant place. God in Heaven is somehow right beside us, here, always in the ever present, profound NOW. I have seen it.
The most important [commandment], answered Jesus, is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.
Mark 12:29–31.
If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.
John 15:10–12 (emphasis added).
And what does “God’s Love” look like? Examine the mythology of Jesus Christ as the Gospels tell it. He was born divine, perfect and pure in every way and committed his life to helping others whether or not they deserved help. He studied and sought truth in every step. He was guided purely by the Light of the Spirit and lived perfectly with passion. He transcended “Law” while embodying the essence and spirit of the Law. Then, after living a pure and innocent, perfect life, he suffered the greatest hardships and injustices humankind can endure, including state-persecution, betrayal, ridicule, torture and crucifixion. It was deeply cruel, unfair, unreasonable and unjust. He suffered as much as any human being ever has or ever will.
Still He loved his betrayers, accusers and executioners with fullness of heart. Amidst all of this, through God’s Love he was completely free from the suffering of this world. In His story is the essential Truth: Godliness and Freedom come through compassion and forgiveness. It ignores logic and reason, but it is the Truth. Love is the only way to access the Peace of God.
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Phil. 4:4–7 (emphasis added).
It really is that simple.
It’s not that I was made perfect by these experiences. God knows I am far from perfect. This was the beginning of a journey. To this day, I am tormented by the bitter sweet pain and fear of dearly loving people who suffer. I wish I could keep them from suffering. I suffer myself, and I make many mistakes. The uncertain nothingness of death still haunts me. I sin.
But God in Heaven revealed Himself to me as clearly as the sun shines in the sky and the stars at night. And it changed me. Indeed, this experience may be the only thing that could have changed me. No amount of intellectual discourse could have convinced me of the things I now believe. Like Saul on the road to Damascus, I needed brute experience to knock me off my feet.
However, unlike the sun and the stars, I cannot verify these every day. It is a rare blessing to experience these in a lifetime. I do not expect them again. And like any past experience, logical certainty is impossible. As time distances me, memory fades. However, what I will never forget, what never loses force for me, is the way I felt that night: love, bliss, ecstasy, contentment, and serenity. It was complete. It was perfect. It was so fundamentally unlike anything else I’ve ever experienced. It was the Joy and Peace of God. It is very real.
This is what I want you, the reader, to take away. God revealed Heaven to me in that dark bedroom. His light shined the Holy into the mundane. The Joy and the “Peace of God” are accessible to each one of us. Everything is perfect if and when we access the present moment and allow the Love of God to reflect from our hearts.
I am not certain where this leaves me, but I feel a profound sense of responsibility. More than anything, I feel responsible to share my stories. Since that night, verifications and challenges abound. Like all life lessons, it does not leave me in a place, but guides me along a path.
With diligence, perseverance and discipline, I must remind myself and draw ever closer to God by training my mind into the present moment, silencing my mind, and opening my heart as it was that night. With thanksgiving, by prayer and supplication, His presence is always accessible, and it is my duty and my honor to listen to the Holy Spirit and reflect His light into the world. And I pray I fall less and less each day.
In the end it is so simple and so profound. I’ll restate it one last time: