9

The Monadnock Revelations

I clearly recall the aura of warmth and calmness that radiated from Eleanor Moore as she entered my life with her ready smile and her mild voice. This woman in her sixties, with her graying hair and a bit of extra weight, made me feel very welcome.

After introducing me to her relatives, she invited me into a room with a padded table similar to those used by chiropractors. Then we sat and I told her  about how Gloria had referred me to her, my plan to move to Cape Cod shortly, the losses during my early years, my nine years in the group foster home, and the family secret about my mother's insanity.

Early in the visit, Eleanor said Cape Cod would suit me well. Then she reported an Atlantis influence in my life from a previous time. She also said that even though my mother had only been with me a short while, she had still loved me. Eleanor had a very soothing manner.

As the healing session opened, she asked me to remove my sneakers and all metal objects, telling me to place my things on a table. So I took off my watch, belt, and the silver necklace with the bronze crucifix on it. And I removed coins from my pockets. Also, I took the manila folder holding information to discuss with her, and I put it on the table where it was going to stay. I was not in control here, as I was when conducting an interview. This was Eleanor Moore's domain.

As she directed me to lie down on my back on her table, I noticed a picture of C.G. Jung, and told her of my many years of concentration on his work. We discussed synchronicity, and such meaningful coincidences as the way my meeting with Gloria had led to my trip to Peterborough to see Eleanor. As I relaxed on her table, she encouraged me to talk about my spiritual journey. So I told her of my random selection Bible reading, and she said, "That's the only way to read." I shared the details of my trip to the Middle East. And when I  reviewed the decline and fall of my nearly thirty-year marriage, Eleanor said Mary and I had not been right for each other due to childhood trauma and astrological differences.

Soon I was telling her about the most intimate concerns of my life, including the confusion of being single after so many years of marriage, and she said I would find a woman who needed someone like me. Then she grinned and said, "I could go for you myself, but I'm quite a bit older than you."

We talked about my meditation practice, and as we talked she began to touch me very lightly in various places, rubbing my feet and other body parts softly. She mentioned "blocks" that existed in the body due to past emotional trauma, and explained that they were part of the body's energy system, and were barriers I had not been able to break through by myself, despite my meditation discipline.

During that first hour, I vented much that had frustrated or harmed me, and I felt tingling in my feet. She said, "That's good." Then came twitches throughout my body, the type of muscular twitches I had felt throughout my life. But now I got  a flood of them. She said it meant healing was taking place, and "tight tension" was being released.

As she continued to move around, touching me lightly, the twitching escalated, and the tingling in my feet spread through my body. Soon my intestines, especially the colon, began leaping in a strange way.  I had suffered from "irritable bowel" periodically, so the healing had found the right target.

The tingling I felt wasn't the prickly "pins and needles" sensation. It was like the tingling felt along with a burst of fear or embarrassment, or seeing blood. As the tingling built, I was sharing the truths of my life with Eleanor, holding nothing back. She  encouraged and soothed me, and while I talked tears flowed from my eyes in a steady stream.

Personal disclosures poured out, accompanied by sobbing and moaning due to my deep grief, and the tingling continued to build in intensity. When I talked about loneliness, a lifetime of pain erupted and I began to let out cries and shrieks of great intensity. They were primal screams of sadness from my depths, and I knew I was being heard by others in the house, but I didn't care anymore.

After a period of release, I would calm down, and we would talk while she held my hand. The periods of confession and release and bodily tingling continued, and my heart rate increased to amazing speed as agonies of a lifetime screamed out of me. Then came a time when I was lying on my back, exhausted, eyes closed, and doing what I do when I meditate. It seemed at one point that my heart stopped as I was drifting into the empty space of deep meditation. And then it happened.

A sudden burst of force greater than any I had ever known came pounding into my skull, throwing my chin and face skyward and backward as the power of the universe came down through the nerves at the back of my skull, and from there the force passed down through my nervous system to my heart where I could feel it regulating the rapid beat. I was  totally electrified. While fully conscious, I felt every feeling, was aware of all that was happening to me, and knew I had entered a completely altered state.

I was in awe and frightened. My skull ached and my body got rigid, as if I were being electrocuted.  As my heart beat at a terrifying pace, I felt roasting hot, began to sweat profusely, and my mouth became extremely dry.

In that state of paralysis my legs began rising from the table, and my arms were stiff and rising too. I was almost levitating, but part of my back and  head were still touching the table. Eleanor held my left hand and forearm against her breast.

In this state I had no spasms and twitches. There was such radiant energy filling me that it is beyond my ability to describe it. I was no longer in control of my body, yet I wasn't in a trance state that separated me from the earth. I could hear voices in the next room. I was aware of Eleanor. I was conscious of my own bodily sensations.

Perhaps I was in a state of zero balance, with all forces converging on my energy system in a perfectly regulated way. But that's just speculation. I was in the realm of mystery where there are no simple, analytical explanations. All I can report is that the transition from the state of exhaustion to the feeling of being struck by lightning was sudden, as if some master switch in the universe had been thrown, and I was the circuit being electrified.

Then came four awe-inspiring words. A force beyond my own consciousness made my chest heave, and with my vocal cords and throat as a channel, created the words God has used to introduce himself to others throughout history: "I Am Who Am." There was a dramatic pause between each word.

It was about 5:00 p.m. and Eleanor had spent two hours preparing me. The communication from God, channeled through me, was destined to last for an hour and would end precisely at 6:00 p.m., an hour beyond the time she had set aside for my session.

Throughout that time, my radiant electrification continued and I was kept in a delicate balance at the point where eternity merges with what we call life.  My experience made it clear that there is no such thing as death. There are just transitions. Death, and the fear of it, are illusions. We are eternal.

Now I will report the messages from God that I received on September 5, 1985, between 5:00 and 6:00 p.m. in Eleanor Moore's yellow farmhouse at Peterborough in the Monadnock Mountains.

I will keep it brief, and I'll include a few of my own comments here and there. Also, I will pass on to you some remarks Eleanor made in a taped interview during January 1986 when she helped me to clarify the astounding events of that special September day.

As I pass on to you the words I heard from God at Monadnock, I am using masculine pronouns for  convenience. God did not specify a divine gender at Monadnock. The words of God, written as accurately as I am able to report them, are in bold type: 

"I Am Who Am." 

The words came from me with a pause between each word as God took over my voice apparatus and produced a single word with each heave of my chest. I knew from my Bible reading that God introduced Himself in the same way in Chapter 3 of Exodus.  "God said to Moses: I AM WHO AM."

With my heart pounding rapidly against my rib cage, chains of words paraded across my mind the way they might on a ticker tape, with God carefully selecting each word he used. He also regulated his voice to reflect his feelings. I let go of my thought-making function and put myself "on hold," and in my divinely induced paralysis, I could do nothing on my own except think some thoughts about what was going on. Every other act was God's.

Often during the session God told me, "Do not fear" and "Do not fear. You will not die." According to Eleanor, the last thing initiates into higher consciousness must overcome is death. "You can't overcome death until you overcome the fear of it." 

"I Am Who Am, I am God, the One God, the God of all, the God of Love, above all gods. There are other gods. They are lesser gods, but I am over and above them. And there is One above all, over all." 

This helps explain Jesus's statement that men are gods. Apparently there are many gods, with varying amounts of power. But there is one Supreme God. Eleanor speculated that the God I was in touch with was our God, but the "One above all" might be the "overall God of the planetary system." My own belief, after much reflection, is that Jesus is the Lord of this planet, that I was in touch with the God of Love who may be the Universal God referred to by Jesus as "Father," and that the "One above all" is the Source of all that is and ever was. Theologians call this the Godhead. But how can anyone have certain knowledge of such things? All I know is what I've heard, what I've experienced. The unseen is mystery.

The next thing the voice of God said was: 

"I have sent my beloved son, Jesus, to show my Love, and my beloved Jesus showed his love on the cross." 

This provides the key reason for Jesus's presence on earth. Eleanor added, "Mary knew he had the Christ Spirit. When he got strong enough and aware enough, he had the same experience of tapping into the cosmic...or it tapped into him....The outside force chose him and he chose the experience. There was a connection, so he became a world figure. There are different energies, and you come out of that energy."

In a book The Jesus Mystery by Janet Bock, she tells of an Indian Swami who reported that God incarnated Jesus to serve as a "messenger." The swami said that in India such incarnations came when the world was in a state of distress. He said Jesus came with the message that the kingdom of heaven existed here on earth in one's own heart.

As noted, I have had visions of Jesus. And  The Jesus Mystery was the only book I took to Rome, Jerusalem, and Cairo a year before my meeting with God at Peterborough. In that book, I underlined this passage about doubting Thomas: "Even though Thomas had been present at the raising of Lazarus and other of Jesus's miracles, he again needed to see for himself. And Jesus satisfied his need."

In Israel, Jesus resolved my own doubts as I entered Lazarus's tomb, visited The Garden, and meditated at Golgotha. Today I believe that Jesus was not exaggerating when he said, "I am the Way" and "I and my Father are one." I believe he is the Beloved Son of God, the Divine Savior of this planet, and I have tried to adopt his Way as my way. 

"You, Thomas, are Horus and you are Ikhnaton. They, too, are gods. And you are the orphan son of God and will stand beside Jesus at my side in Heaven. I, too, feel like an orphan at times." 

Can you imagine the awe I felt on hearing these words? Horus was a much loved god of ancient Egypt, the falcon god. In mythology texts he is "the son who is one with his father." He goes on a daily flight as the sun bird, from east to west, and every day he is reborn. Horus became an orphan when his uncle Set murdered his father Osiris and left his mother Isis a widow. Later Horus lost his eye when he tried to avenge his father's death. But he won, used his own eye to restore his father's sight, and had his own eye restored by the god Thoth's spit. The eye of Horus, to the present time, symbolizes  healing.

Set later tried to discredit Horus by saying he was a bastard son, but the supreme court of the gods pronounced Horus to be the true-begotten son of his father. Before God's revelation to me about Horus, I had experienced Horus omens when reading Jung, and while in Egypt. It's amazing how God works.

"When you had your God experience on my table," Eleanor said, "and God said 'You are Horus,' he was telling you that as the orphan you are an inheritor of the Kingdom....I thought you were shown this because as a child you probably felt bad that you were an orphan....Horus was an orphan too, but he was a ruler and a principal. He was talking to your inner person. Your light, and your power, is created by God, and that's an orphan that doesn't have a physical mommy and daddy. The Horus in you is like a spark or a star or a light. God gave you the spirit of Horus and Ikhnaton." 

Ikhnaton, also called Amenhotep IV, was king of Egypt around 1375 to 1358 B.C. He was a religious reformer, and was considered a heretic who believed in One God who ruled over all the earth as a kindly Father of all men. As a prophet would do, Ikhnaton spread his own belief in a loving God nearly 1400 years before Jesus arrived on the scene. The spirit of Ikhnaton in me must account for my own belief in a loving God who transcends religious boundaries.

God's statement about my role as the orphan son of God is good news for orphans, displaced persons,  kids from split families, and all dispossessed people. Nobody has to feel "less than" anyone else. We all have our part to play in the drama of life.

God's comment that I will stand beside Jesus at God's side in Heaven leaves me in awe, heals any abandonment I have felt, and gives me confidence that any sacrifice on my part as I follow God's will for me is trivial compared to what's in store for me when I go home to God's loving Presence.

Also, when I recall God saying he feels like an orphan at times, this shows we have a personal God with feelings that in some way resemble the feelings of the children he made in his image and likeness. What a wonderful statement for God to make! 

"Gloria is a god, too, Thomas. She is Isis, and in a mysterious way she is also Osiris. She will be with you. Do you remember how she told you to look at the valley of the trees and at the one star in the sky? Do you remember the license plate you saw after you left her? ASTRAL? She was sent to you, Thomas. Do not fear."

Gloria, my spirit mother, told me her birthday is on the birth date of the Egyptian god Isis who personifies feminine creative and healing power. Gloria, in this incarnation, is in a healing profession. Also, some say Christianity modeled the Mother Mary and infant Jesus after Isis and Horus.

God's words confirmed Gloria's importance in my life. She directed me to Monadnock, and she remains a friend. When I reviewed this material with Eleanor and mentioned the star Gloria had pointed out, she said, "I wouldn't tell that to everybody."

She was trying to protect me from ridicule, but I can't be hurt by my own truth. Those who can relate to my truth will understand, and those who can't relate to my story and the messages I am offering  are beyond my influence. 

"I have given everything in your life to you to prepare you to be my prophet....In your time you will see astounding things, things the world has never seen....when he (Jesus) begins his 1,000-year reign, as it is written....Everything man needs to know is in my Word."

The words are clear, and there is little I can add.   I am  reluctant to call myself a prophet, yet I accept God's will. Interpreting the word "prophet," Eleanor equated it with "messenger," and tied it to my future writing. So, to carry out God's will, I try to give messages about God's love in my writings, lectures, TV and radio work, statements during meetings of mutual help groups, and comments to individuals.

As for the "astounding things" I will see, I have already seen some "impossible" events involving the moon and the sun. But after what I experienced at Monadnock, nothing is impossible anymore.

When will the 1,000-year reign of Jesus start? I don't know. All I know is God confirmed that Jesus will come again, as the Scriptures have predicted. That's enough for me to know. The rest is mystery.

God's reference to his Word as the place to get our needs met is clear. And his Word includes the Bible, oral tradition, visions, dreams, and symbols. His Word arrives mystically in many ways, including random reading and inspired thoughts.

God can communicate in any way he pleases. He can whisper to us during meditation and prayer. And he can speak to us directly. However, he told me it was a challenge to use words. Apparently, words are very limiting. But the God of Love has no limits! 

"Look on nothing with disdain. Love is in all creation." 

This is a new commandment based on an old theme. It was at the core of Jesus's message to love our enemies. God paused before saying  "disdain," so this word is important. It means "to despise, scorn, have aversion to, feel contempt for, to reject as unworthy of oneself...." So we must love all creation, and avoid contempt for people, places, or things.   We don't have to love wrong behavior. We simply need to love each being as the creation of a loving God, and meet each person as a fellow pilgrim on the journey that will eventually bring us all home.

Obviously, whenever the God of Love creates something, God's essence is reflected in it. But it's easy for us to overlook the obvious. It's apparent that Jesus understood the Love of God as a part of all creation. Francis of Assisi understood too. They both loved all creatures, all things, all people. We, too, should love all creation as Jesus and Francis did. 

"I cry to think of how they defile my gift of generation. They do not know. You will tell them, Thomas." 

The key word is "gift." Since sexual generation is a sacred gift from God, we must strive for pure hearts and express love unselfishly, with tenderness and compassion, and not with greed or perversion. We must express love naturally, not unnaturally. The sexual act is for sharing affection and creating new beings, and requires kindness, consideration, and concern for each other's spiritual growth.

Sex based on real love does not include lust, demand gratification, or chase its own pleasure in a self-centered way. Love does not buy, sell, trade, or barter sexual services. Love does not degrade another to satisfy urges. Love does not utilize fear, threaten, dominate, manipulate, misuse, or abuse. Love does not achieve its aims through physical, psychological, or spiritual violence. And perhaps most important of all, sex based on love is not addictive.

We need to elevate the act of sex on this planet to the level of divine gift, sacred ritual, sacrament. The sexual connection is a God-connection worthy of divine respect and sensitivity. With the power of generation, God gave us the keys to the creation of mankind. We should protect those keys carefully.

I believe we need to clean up our sexual act and  live as Jesus advised 2,000 years ago. "Love one another." If we love God, self, and others properly, our pure and unselfish hearts will radiate God's love and reflect it in all our sexual activities. 

"I love everything. I love everyone. I love all, even those who do not believe. And there is no hell. I love them. Tell them how much I love them. I especially love the maimed, the deformed, the crippled, the handicapped, the addicted. I created them to give others the opportunity to love the afflicted, who will be with me in Heaven." 

This tells me God's love is total. Our God of Love is not a punishing God. Instead, we punish ourselves when we separate ourselves from him with our selfishness. There may be a place somewhere in the universe with an eternal fire in it, as Jesus noted, and  maybe spirits can be extinguished there in the way we burn rubbish, but a place where a spirit suffers on and on without end would not, in my view, be consistent with God's boundless love for us.

As for God's comments about afflicted people, what a wonderful explanation of why things are the way they are. God's love is at work in all situations. Whatever  happens through the use of our wills, or through accidents or diseases, God's love can make it all come out right. Also, he has a special place in his Divine Plan for those we consider unfortunate. So we need not question God's Wisdom.  

"You will be with me when your work is done, Thomas. Do not worry about your heart. It will not break. You will not die. My heart is in your heart. My Love is in you." 

I felt God's hand on my heart as my heart raced. My heart was pounding so hard and fast I could not imagine it surviving such an ordeal. One effect of the immense pumping of blood during the experience was that for several days following the event my ordinarily quite minor hemorrhoids bled profusely to the point where I considered buying some women's sanitary napkins. But finally the flow subsided.

During my time with God, he eased my concerns with his comments. When the thought of death entered my mind, God instantly responded to me with the helpful words he spoke through my voice apparatus. And in some instances during the session, he used thought-to-thought communication.

Throughout the entire initiation process, God encouraged me and calmed me in the depths of my paralyzed being. And when he said his heart was in my heart, I knew those words were literal. I felt a sense of unity with God that is beyond description.

God's comment that I will be with him when my work is done gives me courage to face challenges as I try to fulfill God's will for me. After all, I exist only to do God's will. It took decades trying to pursue my own will in this world to nudge me toward accepting the truth of the catechism lessons I received in childhood at St. Catherine's Sunday school. The message was hammered home that our purpose on earth was to know, love, and serve God in this world so that we would be happy with him forever in the next. The message was clear and true. I affirm it. 

"You found it hard to believe what happened to Francis, but everything they say is true is true." 

The "Francis" was Francis of Assisi. God did not call him a saint, as we do. He calls each of us by our first names. He certainly doesn't call us by our titles like Doctor and Professor and Reverend and General. Nor does he call us by our nicknames. I'm not "Tom," I'm "Thomas." God keeps it simple, and I believe we are all equal in his loving perspective.

When God referred to my doubts about Francis, he was showing me his knowledge of the smallest details of my life. I had doubted some of the stories about Francis, although I am a Secular Franciscan. And I also had reservations about the stigmata, or wounds of Christ, that Francis was supposed to have received from an angel. But God erased my doubts.

While my session progressed, I remained quite  powerless over my body, and stayed that way for the whole hour. To show me what happened to Francis,  God took my paralyzed arms and folded them in an "X" position on my chest, in the same position that is depicted on Franciscan emblems and medals.

Knowing I was radiating with God's energy and power, I identified with Francis, and realized God's truth and Francis's truth were one. Then, in slow motion, my arms began to spread, and I moved from mirroring Francis to the experience of being Jesus. I went into the crucifixion pose, with my palms facing the sky as my arms stretched out as far as they could.

Then astounding beams of energy pounded down from the heavens and I could feel them burning into my palms with laser force as I received the energy of the stigmata. I wondered if this might deform me for the rest of my life, and accepted the possibility of living with open wounds, as Francis had done.

I was sweating profusely during all this time, and the heat throughout my body was hotter than any fever I have ever felt, including the one in Israel and Egypt a year before. I also felt that the sweat coming from my forehead was actually blood. My mouth was so parched I could identify with Jesus's thirst on the cross, and I was in awe as all this happened. My awe was combined with unbelievably acute awareness.

Then, as I thought about the parched feeling on my lips and in my mouth and throat, the words of God came through me and said, 

"Eleanor will moisten your lips." 

Tears come as I write this passage, remembering God's tenderness. God is obviously deeply concerned with our feelings. His training may be painful, but he is not cruel. Following God's direction, Eleanor left my side and came back in a while with water. She poured some into my mouth, and it ran down my lips and onto my chin. As the "living water" touched my overheated body with its sweet coolness, it soothed me with its own life, and my being filled with joy.

I realized that even in a crucifixion there can be  joy and peace, and Jesus must have had those moments despite his unspeakable agony. The Divine Presence would have made the difference for him, as it did in my symbolic crucifixion when I was electrified, paralyzed, and physically challenged. My natural body, my nervous system, and my mortal mind were enduring a trial. And God's next words reminded me of someone else's trial. 

"Abraham was willing to give me his son, but I loved Abraham and he did not have to give me his son. He could keep his son and love him." 

God's voice was very soft when he spoke these words. I'm not sure why he chose to tell me about Abraham. Perhaps it is to help others make sense out of the perplexing Abraham and Isaac story.

I too had to be willing to sacrifice my connection with my son when I entered a painful divorce. It was a sacrifice to be separated from him when he was only ten, and from my three daughters who were young adults. Yet, despite our separation, God enabled me and my children to nurture our love over the years, and to get to know each other as friends.

As I see it now, I think God expects us to learn to love our families and others with sincerity but also with some detachment so we don't need to control or possess them. When we truly love we should give our loved ones the freedom to move and space to grow, as our loving God gives us freedom and space.    

At any rate, while still fully electrified, with my arms outstretched in the crucifixion posture, I heard the voice of God speak these words through me:

"Thomas doubted, but Thomas was loved by Jesus and was allowed to have proof of his wound. Thomas later went to India and spread the Gospel and died there....You will go to Nepal near Tibet to a monastery where you will see what I have written." 

I will need direction about which monastery in Nepal to visit, and I await that guidance. As for Thomas the apostle, despite his doubt he received a special gift after the resurrection of Jesus...living proof of the reality of Jesus's wounds. And Thomas's mission to India is reflected in the existence of "Thomas Christians" there to this day.  

Eleanor shared this idea with me: "Put all the apostles together and they make a whole. They make Jesus. Jesus had it all."

As God spoke to me about Thomas, the doubting apostle, my right arm rose and curled so the fingers of my right hand pressed hard against the lower part of my right rib cage. The heat at my fingertips was so intense I thought the lance wound of Jesus would be there to disfigure me for the balance of my life.

Then I heard these words: 

"Only a chosen few will see the mark I have left on your chest, Thomas." 

One day after this experience, in the Illustrated Encyclopedia of Traditional Symbols I found a picture of Jesus with the fingers of his right hand touching the wound in his right rib cage, just as my fingers had done. As I discussed this with Eleanor, she wondered if Christ's wound was "in the same place where Eve came out of Adam's rib." She thought that after my hands had been "opened up," my right hand was used to release "female creative God-Principle." She observed, "You're very male and need to release your female creative intuitive."

The mark on my chest is invisible so far, but I still remember the heat as my fingertips touched that part of my chest. And I accept what God said about a chosen few seeing the wound. Much of what God told me is mystery. But I've always loved mysteries. They make the world go around, don't they? 

"Eleanor will have a mark on her chest, too. Nobody will see it. When she comes to me I will kiss it. Tell her I love her very much...." 

The mark God made on Eleanor was another example of God's own knack for creating mystery. I accept God's aura of mystery, and I am simply repeating what I was told. Also, I can report that after Eleanor heard the words spoken during that special hour she told me she was pleased that she was able to hear the loving message that God had transmitted about her through my voice. 

"Look at Eleanor, Thomas. Open your eyes."

The light dazzled my eyes, and its radiance was simply incredible. How can I describe that light? That astounding light from the heavens? It was the light of all lights, from the source of all light. It was the wonder of all wonders. The very thought of it fills me with awe, and the memory of it makes my eyes feel like squinting. At any rate, right after I had opened my eyes, I was told,

"Do not be afraid, Thomas. You will not go blind." 

The light of God's Presence was so astoundingly bright I will never forget it. Gold? Silver? White? I don't know. Probably a mixture of gold and white. I'm not sure. I just know it was amazingly bright.

My head began to turn, through God's direction, in a jerky fashion. I was not moving it. Whatever the self is, it was suspended now, and had no place in the initiation ceremony. Eternal energy was doing the moving. And I was fully conscious of that energy and how it was in charge of my slightest movements. As I looked at where Eleanor was sitting, God's voice said,  

"You will not see her." 

Where Eleanor had been sitting, there was no Eleanor. I was seeing right through her bodily form, and for a while she remained invisible. I could see only the wall and bookcases behind her.

Then, bit by bit, she appeared in miniature, low in my field of vision, and finally she expanded into normal size like a balloon being inflated. When I discussed this incident with her months later, she said, "I've done that to other people. I've disappeared in front of a room full of people a couple of times."

I asked, "Is that God's way of telling us that everything's an illusion?"

"Yes, everything is not what you think it is."

This event led me to remember that I have had other experiences where friends seemed to disappear before my eyes in large rooms of people. But I never truly believed they had disappeared. I chalked it up to a blind spot in my field of vision. Maybe I saw through their bodily forms.

Another fascinating experience took place in St. Mary's Church, Dedham. I was at Mass with my son, and during the "Peace to you" greeting, I turned and behind me I saw a man's face that was a mass of scarred flesh with tiny holes where a nose should have been, and a smaller than usual mouth opening. The only things that seemed intact were his eyes. I looked into those eyes, said "Peace," reached out my hand to shake his, and felt only a stump.

I smiled nervously, went back to attending to the Mass, went to Communion, and on my return to the pew the man was gone. I'm not saying he dissolved into thin air. My son saw him too, so I know it was not a hallucination. But one minute he was there, and the next he was gone. It reminded me a bit of Francis of Assisi meeting a leper and touching him.

As for the "impossible" things that happened to me at Peterborough, I say this: "My belief system has lost its boundaries. I now believe in the impossible."

The former me would have had a difficult time saying those words. It has taken a series of mystical experiences to change me so I can accept events that defy the laws of logic. I once worked hard at being logical, and often my logical part thought it controlled my destiny. Now I see that my so-called logical thinking was just a sincere delusion.

I believe today that God's logic differs from ours. And although it may sound a bit like determinism, I believe God chooses the parts we are to play in this planetary drama. What about our free will? Well, I guess we are free to play our part or run from it. The catch is that when we run from our own destiny it leaves us feeling more uncomfortable than when we simply accept God's will for us. 

In any case, after Eleanor had gradually returned to full size, the room was still filled with dazzling light, and I felt so hot that when I touched something metal on her wrist, I thought it would certainly melt.

Looking back, it seems that in my altered state I was conscious of two realities at once. I knew I was still in space and time, yet I knew I was functioning beyond space and time, in eternity.

Eleanor's presence in the room was real to me, and so was God's presence. Also, the awe-inspiring flow of electrical energy through me could not be ignored. It was so powerful that it definitely caught my attention. And the beat of my heart throughout the whole session was so strong that it felt like it would pound right through the wall of my chest. It was pounding the way a heart pounds after a long workout on  a treadmill in a cardiologist's laboratory.

As for time, there was no way for me to measure time during my special hour with God. It was only after the hour was over that I could begin to get any perspective on it. That particular hour had a timeless aspect to it.

Speaking of time, I have to admit that I often get confused by God's time. And I wonder when God will fulfill the various revelations he made to me at Monadnock. But I know in my heart that God's time is the best time. So all I have to do is fulfill my own duty to God by carrying the messages he gave me on September 5, 1985.

In addition, I want to make it clear to readers that just because I had a special experience of God, that doesn't mean I have become superhuman. Instead, I think it has made me even more sensitive to the challenges of life. I still have to cope with my allergies and other health problems. And I have my bouts with anxiety.

However, I'm not as much a victim of feelings as before. I am more in tune with God's will today. So I am much more peaceful. I believe some of that peace comes directly from God, some of it comes from Jesus, and some comes from Mary.  

"Mary is a god. She had one child, Jesus. They think she had more. They do not know." 

The message speaks for itself. If God says Mary is a god, then that's all there is to it. Apparently, the  theological speculation about Jesus having brothers is wasted energy. Why do people want to believe that Mary had more children? Can't they handle the idea of a virgin birth? With God all things are possible.

Several times during the session, God said to me,  

"Smile, Thomas, I am a God who smiles." 

At one point, God took my mouth and my lips and forced a large smile onto my face! What can I say? Isn't it wonderful to think of a God who smiles? God loves. God smiles. God enjoys informality and the light touch. He even uses the word "okay."

When I wondered about what I would be called on to do as his prophet, God just said, 

"Do not worry. Easy does it. They will come to you."

Apparently I am supposed to take it one day at a time, letting my life unfold, and being open to the people who come into it. This means that much of the time I must keep my natural curiosity restrained, and hold back my inclination to get right into tasks and get things done. Often I ask God, "When?" The reply tends to be silence. The indirect message is, "Just do your best, and wait." 

"Gloria will be with you. Other women will come and follow you as they followed Jesus." 

I continue my connection with Gloria as the years go by, and a number of other special women have come into my life. In truth, I believe women have an important place in God's spiritual planning. When it comes to spirituality, women tend to be more enthusiastic and receptive than men. I have shared information such as the contents of this book with women, and they have been grateful. Also, some women, during lectures I've given, have seen my aura, been amazed by it, and told me about it. 

"You will teach them to meditate as I have taught you to meditate." 

The meditation I practice is not complicated, and is silent, sitting meditation based on the discipline encouraged by a Benedictine monk, John Main. He learned to do it in India and eventually brought it to the Benedictine monastery in Montreal. Then, until his death, he did his best to spread the word about it.

You sit with legs crossed on a little pillow on the floor, or in a chair with arms. You let your hands rest in your lap, with fingers touching lightly. And you may choose to use some beads, such as rosaries or the meditation beads of the Far East. If you doze off, they will drop, slide against the edge of your chair or hit the floor, and will wake you up.

You close your eyes lightly, let your eyes aim down the bridge of your nose, notice your breathing, and as you breathe in and out through your nose, with mouth closed, you say or hear your prayer word, or mantra, without actually moving your lips. You actually think your mantra...until it fades away.

As you sit with eyes closed, seeming to look out of a dark cave through your forehead, you don't look for pictures on the screen of your vision. Instead, you work quietly to clean off that visual screen so it's blank. When your thoughts disappear, your mind is left clear and connected with God, in the silence.

The mantra, or prayer word, is our spiritual tool. We simply listen to it, or think it. The best mantras  don't conjure up a visual image. I use "Maranatha" and "AUM," pronounced "Ahh...ooh...mmmmm." The mantra clears the mind, brings peace, and helps to bring mystical union with God.

I breathe deeply into my abdomen, let it expand slowly, and watch my breathing. I repeat my mantra until it fades and leaves me in the deep silence with God. I do this twice a day, from 20 to 30 minutes, in the early morning and late in the day. I do this on an empty stomach and without caffeine, but I take some orange juice to help me stay awake in the morning. And I usually use beads to help keep me alert.

The condition I aim for is alert stillness. No preliminary exercises are needed. The goal? To do, think, and say nothing. Usually there are moments when no messages enter the mind, and that is just fine. And sometimes messages come, like the one I received: "The work comes first, everything else second." The "work" is meditation itself, or yoga, which means scientific union with God. 

There are many views on the value of meditation. Eleanor believed that it provided "a way of releasing energy, getting rid of garbage, and becoming more aware of the inner person." I believe we each receive spiritual benefits from the practice, and if we do it  consistently, it has the power to change our lives.

In my English Composition course at Cape Cod Community College, I give a writing assignment that includes reading about meditation, trying it, and then writing about it. For most students, it is their first real attempt to sit and be still, and yet they are able to write about benefits received even after only a few minutes in deep silence based on alert stillness. 

As my session with God continued, I received additional emphasis from God about my role in his grand design. 

"Now, Thomas, you will be my prophet." 

According to Eleanor, a prophet was "a witness or messenger." She explained, "Your old soul that burned up its shit and garbage and fear can very objectively look and see the patterns of what is going on around the planet today....You'll write your experiences. Part of your experience was knowing that you are a book. You're the Book of Life. I am too. We've been around more than once." She was referring to prior lives. Past lives were as real to Eleanor as the present life is to most people.

"Look at the ceiling, Thomas." 

The light was incredibly bright, almost blinding, and in the rough plaster of the ceiling I saw a configuration that looked very much like the outline of Italy. It seemed to be in the shape of a boot, or high shoe. It truly captured my attention for a time, and then came the words:  

"Do not be afraid, Thomas."

Astounding energy poured through me, and it seemed to come out from my eyes like a powerful penetrating ray. Then came these words: 

"You will not go blind." 

Repeatedly during the experience, I suspended my fear. When fear entered my mind, it was like a bug flying by, and my awareness of God's loving connection with me removed it.

Then God began to use my eyes in what seemed a very odd way, yet after eye surgery the previous winter I had experienced something similar. On that occasion, my  anesthetized eye had seen images that were different from those seen by my active eye. And it was a bit frightening to have that happen.

As I lay there at Eleanor's watching the image on the ceiling, God took my eyes, and a concentrated beam of energy, like a laser, came from one eye and poured onto the place on the ceiling to which he had directed my vision. During this time, God's thoughts kept flooding into my mind, advising me to hold on and not let go of the intense gaze. I held on.

"There will be a mark." 

The light of God apparently left a mark on that ceiling. Months later, Eleanor told me that some of the people coming to see her since my visit had been fascinated by the ceiling. "I have more aware people coming here now." As for the word "mark," she said  it could mean "the Word that all words stem from." 

"It is finished." 

In a dramatic way, pausing between each word, God's statement echoed Jesus's words on the cross. Those words come after completion of the experience of initiation into higher consciousness. 

Eleanor left the room for a while after the three words were spoken, but my inner experience went on. The power of God lifted my stiff body into a sitting position, and as I was propped up by my extended arms, some private messages came. And my eyes were then directed toward objects in the room, with one eye used to project the beam, or ray.

The radiant energy continued to fill me as my eyes went to a picture of Francis of Assisi on a table near the door. Then my eyes went to a blue, white, and gold ceramic unicorn. The ray from my eye rested on its horn, and I thought the ceramic might explode. Also, my eye sent a ray to the light switch on the wall. Months later, Eleanor told me that since my visit people had developed interest in Francis' picture and in the unicorn.

Each time my head moved during this time, it had a jerky motion. I was not moving it; it was being moved. Next, in an obscure nook to the rear of where Eleanor had been sitting at my left, I saw an artistic oversized postcard with an angelic figure on it, and rays of heavenly light coming from it. Before I left Eleanor's place that evening, she gave me that postcard depicting Metatron, the Archangel of the Presence who came to Moses.

Sitting there, I was sweating profusely, getting small chains of words from God that seemed to be transition comments, bringing me back to everyday reality. And as my mobility returned, the altered state diminished in intensity. Yet my body was still pulsating with electrical energy. I actually thought I was sweating blood, and I was tingling all over as I tugged at my shirt, popping a button on it. I used part of it to wipe my forehead, and then expected to see blood on the shirt. There was none there.

I was feeling like a giant as I sat there alone, still filled with much tingling energy. Moving stiffly to the floor, I felt much larger than life, but with a very deep fatigue. I flung myself onto the divan, and curled up there, wanting to sleep but knowing that I had to stay awake. As I lay recovering, my mind was whirling with thoughts of what had just happened to me. In those moment my whole being was filled with God's words of love. I knew it was my destiny now to carry the awareness of my God of Love to others.

I had come a long way from being Thomas the doubter. "My God, what a God you are!" I thought as I lay there with God's words flying through my mind. As memories of the experience flooded in, I reflected, "It's beyond belief, but it's true."

When Eleanor came back into the room, she said, "That was quite a trip you took." She told me she had been blessed by my experience. And when this mystic who saw people's auras or "lights" examined me, she saw a cross in the middle of my forehead where some say the eye of the soul is located.

I died symbolically on the cross during my initiation experience that day, and I believe a new Thomas replaced the former one. I was filled with a new sense of unity and wholeness, and I knew now that my life was no longer my own. It was God's.

The cross symbolizes sacrifice. We must crucify our selfishness as we prepare for Jesus's return, when he will rule in peace and love for a thousand-year reign such as this world has never known.

At the end of my session with Eleanor, she told me to stay on the divan, resting, until I felt able to get up. Soon, as the tingling sensations lessened, I was able to sit up and retrieve the objects I had taken off. I also picked up the manila folder containing items I hadn't needed to refer to. On the way out she introduced me to her husband and daughter, but I was so dazed I could hardly walk, talk, or speak.

After exchanging a hug with Eleanor, I left the yellow farmhouse in a dreamlike state. It was about 7:00 p.m. and raining heavily as I drove back toward Massachusetts after experiencing God's crucible of heavenly fire. A few miles away I passed a large building in flames. I was transformed by fire, and so was somebody's property, at nearly the same time.

As I drove, the monotonous swish of windshield wipers was hypnotic, and I took a wrong turn that led me to Manchester, the long way home. I had managed to get lost on the way up that morning, but arrived at my destination, and here I was, getting lost again. But I had a safe trip home.

On the way I scribbled notes about my experience on a pad beside me. At times I would pull over to the side of the road and write rapidly as my mind flooded with detailed memories of the experience. Late that evening, beyond midnight, I sat with my tape recorder and spoke more details into it, while writing down notes, and then I paused. When I started to tape again I forgot to press the red record  button. And I continued talking for a long time. It was not recording, but at least I was getting my notes together and reinforcing my memory.

At home I spent days compiling my notes on the experience, and did some cutting and pasting to arrange them in a readable sequence.

I had a deep heaviness pressing on my chest for a full week after Monadnock, the same kind of feeling I get when I am grieving an extreme loss. I felt weak and exhausted in the aftermath of the experience that had made me feel larger than life for a brief time.

In a book on Francis of Assisi's life, I learned that he too experienced a combination of fright and joy after his communion with God. I also read words indicating his belief in the idea of many gods. "You are the one Lord God above all the Gods," he wrote. Reviewing Francis's experience of the stigmata, I no longer doubted what had happened to him.

After Monadnock, I reviewed many books, and I saw new meaning in comments that had previously held little interest. In The Jesus Mystery by Janet Bock, these words struck me: "All human beings are proceeding along an evolutionary path which will eventually culminate in the goal of mergence with God....some are further along than others."

Flipping Gray's Anatomy open at random, I learned that the 10th pneumogastric nerve supplies the organs of voice and respiration, the pharynx, esophagus, stomach, and heart. This led me to believe that the universal energy followed that path after it entered my skull at the fontanel, then put me into the proper state, and provided the power system over which God's voice traveled. I read about the pineal gland, optic thalami, and medulla oblongata, which serve as a bridge from God to man during meditation, or in an experience like mine.

Also, in medieval philosophy I once read that the ancients viewed the pineal gland as the seat of the soul, and I have read that when autopsies are done a sandy crystalline substance is found in that gland. I wonder if this substance provides crystal power like that of a computer chip, and gives us the way to communicate with our Creator.

In The Urantia Book, a text recommended by a mystic I met while visiting North Conway, New Hampshire, I read about Jesus's "transfiguration"  on Mount Hermon. He announced to  three apostles one afternoon at three o'clock that he was leaving them "to commune with the Father and His messengers." Jesus returned at six o'clock. And my experience with Eleanor had begun at about 3:00 p.m. and had ended at 6:00 p.m. An interesting coincidence.

On Jesus's return from his meeting with God, he said, "I now declare that the Son of Man has chosen to go through his full life in your midst as one of you. Be of good cheer; I will not leave you until my work is finished." God also told me that I will return to him only when my "work" here is finished.

On the Sunday following my Monadnock trip, at St. Mary's Church in Dedham, I flipped the Mass book open at random, and before my eyes I saw the page headed "Transfiguration." It said, "In the shiny cloud the Spirit is seen. From it the voice of the Father is heard. 'This is my son, my beloved son, in whom is all my delight. Listen to him.'" God described Jesus to me as his "beloved son" too.

In Edgar Cayce on Reincarnation, I read about Jesus reviving the teachings of the Essenes, beliefs  "rooted firmly in the laws of reincarnation." Jesus, in the Gospels, referred to the belief in reincarnation without criticizing it, so the revelation that I am a blend of former spirits known as Horus and Ikhnaton is consistent with my Christianity. 

On September 19, I flipped open a copy of the Psalms and here is what I read in Psalm 82: "God presides in the heavenly council; in the meeting of the gods (interesting use of the plural) He gives his decision." Then in the Scriptures I read, "I told you that you are gods, that all of you are the sons of the Most High." Again, the plural "gods" is used.

In Tantra in Tibet, I read: "If a phenomenon, such as a body, and its emptiness were exactly the same, then when we saw the body, we would see its emptiness." Maybe that's what I saw when God told me to look at Eleanor, and said I would not see her.

In Psychology and Religion by Carl Jung, I read: "Religious experience is absolute. It is indisputable. No matter what the world thinks about religious experience, the one who has it possesses the great treasure of a thing that has provided him with a source of life, meaning and beauty and that has given a new splendor to the world and to mankind."

The book Men Who Have Walked With God, written by Sheldon Cheney, reported on the mystic visions of Catherine of Siena, whose name was attached to the church I attended in Norwood as a child. Catherine was described as being "rapt out of her corporeal senses" as information came to her "dictated by God the Father." She also said she was "transformed into Christ."

Later, in Christ Consciousness, a journal written by Norman Paulsen, I found a report that reminded me of my own experience at Monadnock: "forces beyond my poor control"...."incredible voice".... "incredible light"...."Tremendous vibrations"...."I couldn't move my body"...."beyond the barriers of time, space and images."

Paulsen wrote, "As Moses saw God face to face, so did I, and so can you." He said that meditation is the vehicle to use in preparation for the experience.

As the days following my experience of God passed, I read at random in the Scriptures often, and here are some of the messages I received: "Write therefore the things thou hast seen and the things that are, and the things that are to come hereafter." "No one can question what you have done or challenge your judgment." "Tell your fellow exiles what I am saying." "Pack your bundle for exile."

Shortly afterward, I moved to Cape Cod. My first day on the Cape was Columbus Day, October 12, 1985. Like Columbus, I knew where I was going, but didn't know what would happen when I arrived. Yet much of my life has been that way. After all, on the day I went to see Eleanor Moore in the Monadnock Mountains I also knew where I was going, but I certainly didn't expect to meet God there.

... to be continued

 

We would appreciate your comments! Send to info@sanctuary777.com

NOTE: Agents and editors interested in reprint or film/video rights may contact publisher at info@sanctuary777.com

<< Back