"Worse?" asked Tim, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
"Much, much worse," muttered Cormac, picking up a stick and poking the fire.
"What do you mean?" asked Tim, as the cat came up to him and rubbed against his leg.
“You know the parable of the rich man who quaffs all the goodies at the banquet and gives only the crumbs to Lazarus?” Cormac asked, his sad eyes shining in the light of the fire.
“Sure. Everyone knows it.”
“Well, I was like that rich man. I stuffed myself at the banquet of life, grabbed the food and wine for myself, hogged it all, and left others to starve. I didn’t notice or care. I was convinced I was a special case and deserved the lion's share. Yes, that was me. I helped steal the financial basis that millions of people depended on to live. I contributed to the destitution, misery of millions of people. I don't know how many deaths I contributed to indirectly.”
“I don’t believe that!” cried Tim.
Cormac shook his head, thoughtfully.
"My life story is not a pretty one, but it’s fairly typical, I guess, It's a story about a person who put their career, money and admiration at the top. But where shall I begin? Well, I was born in a suburb of New York. My father was a lawyer and a banker and fiercely competitive. I went to Princeton and then to Harvard where I did an MBA. I joined a big investment bank, a huge global outfit, one of the biggest in the world controlled in a large measure by the Redshills, a powerful banking dynasty that helped found Israel. I dreamed of making so much money that everyone would have to take me seriously. I was a hard worker, put in long hours and I was ruthless.""Really? As a banker? I mean isn't that the height ofd respectability?"
"There's all this hype about banks," said Cormac. "There's this belief that they are necessary for a productive economy. The opposite is true. A banking sector is interested only in two questions: how to push as many people as they can into debt and charge as much interest as possible to service those debts; and how to force those people to default and so seize their houses and other assets such as farms or companies."
"I can't believe that."
"It's true. You see, banks actually have no money, at all."
"They don't? I thought they had to have a reserve or something?"
"The reserve or captial requirements are very low. For every 97 dollars a bank lends, it needs only 3 dollars as a reserve. The other 97 dollars it creates out of thin air. But it's able to charge interest for 100 dollars. If people don't pay up, they can seize the assets. That's why banks have an interest in creating macroeconomic conditions of inflation followed by deflation. Inflation devalues people's money and earnings and encourages debt. Deflation drags and economcy into a recession or depression and forces defaults."
"How can they do that?" cried Tim. "How they create money out of nothing? No one would buy it?"
"The private banks can do this because they control the Federal Reserve. The American government and American economy with its pool of services and goods are the guarantors of the Fed. The American ecomomy acts like the gold standard. Because there is a real economy producging real goods and servives behind the Fed and the dollar, the electronic money the banks invent has a value."
"No one explains that at college!"
"They sure don't. That's because the banks are so rich, they control the government and through the government, the educaiton system. Not to mention the media. Anyway, by creating inflation and then deflation, forcing people to default, banks can swallow up bit by bit all assets of a country."
"That kind of sounds like the situation we're in right now."
"So I heard! The Wall Street banks have engineered yet another artificial crisis by changing the SEC accounting rules in such a way as to make them look close to bankruptcy on paper. Now they're asking for trillions in bailout money while sucking money out of the real economy to cause bankruptcy."
"Can they get away with that?" asked Tim, amazed.
"Sure, they can. They control the entire financial regulation system and the entire media."
"So you mean the bank crisis is just media hype like September 9/11 when we were all told that there'd been a terrorist attack when there wasn't any..."
"That's about it. I saw how the game worked when I was hired by JS Morgan Feather. If I wanted to make a profit, I just rang a coouple of contacts working on financial wires and in newspapers and they'd write a report that would diss a certain stock. People read the report and then would sell that stock. I'd buy it up cheap, get back on the phone to my contacts in the media and get them to talk the stock up. When it was high, I sold it. That's how I made a profit."
"What a scam!"
"Our bank also washed huge amounts of drug money through our offshore centers."
"No kidding. Drug money?"
"Everyone was in on it, and so I figured why should I make a stand? I was really well paid in bonuses and stock options. I was one of the big shots. I went to all the hot parties and charity galas. Anyway, in 1989, the Soviet Union crumbled and there were huge opportunities there. My bank was very anxious to suck up as many of the assets as possible. I persuaded my boss to send me to their branch. I guess I just wanted some excitement. Going to Russia seemed like a golden career opportunity at the time. It was a surreal time over there, a time when huge fortunes could be made as the country collapsed, leaving the old government-owned metals and energy companies up for the taking. There were billions of dollars out there for the grabs if you knew how to work the system. There were oil and gas fields there for the taking – if you had the connections, and were clever enough to know how to steal the whole lot of it under the noses of the Russian people by making sure the so-called "privatisation" was carried out on our terms. That's what we did.
I worked for a bank that belonged to the Redshills, like I said,, one of the richest families in the world. They control the US government and the British government and they had their agents in Russian government, too. They sent their economics guy Barry Sumleitner over their to "advise" the Russian government on how to privatise all these assets. The Russian officials pushed through privatisation legislation, which allowed us to buy up the whole lot by hook or by crook. The Redshills used Russian front men, guys who became so powerful they were called the oligarchs. Anyway, the cherries were there for the taking and the guy I worked for was buying up all these companies for a song. He was just a little older than me, but had managed to acquire a fortune by gaining control of several aluminium companies in shady deals with the bureacrats in the chaotic transition from Communism to so-called Democracy in the nineties. This guy was pragmatic. Anyone who didn't go along with it, he killed."
"Killed?"
"Sure. Assassinations were routine."
"He systematically took over companies at rock bottom prices using bribery or blackmail or violence. He was called Abrahams and part of the huge Redshill crime network that makes incredible sums by sellings drugs and weapons and manipulating financial systems and currencies. The people of Russia sank into poverty and chaos as their money and assets were sold off for a song by a corrupt elite. There was unemployment, poverty, drugs, crime. Many women got drawn into the sex slave trade which my boss also had a stake in. Lots of children ended up on the street, prey to paedophiliacs. My boss was also making money on alcohol. Vodka fulfilled the convenient function of destroying the people who had been impoverished, and who might otherwise cause trouble or organise a rebellion. The population dropped by about a third in the following years. It was a a kind of mass murder or genocide. The media they bought talked about “democracy” when what they really meant was the freedom to rob and plunder the resources of the Russians, murder rivals and anyone who got in their way."
"Why didn't anyone stop them?"
"They bribed or blackmailed or killed the police and the judiciary to get their way. They didn’t even pay taxes, not even capital gains taxes, on their huge profits from oil and gas.”
"Didn't they have any conscience?"
"You have to understand my boss was a Talmud Jew and few people realise just how racist Talmud Jews can be. They believe the Jews are the master race destined to rule the world. Non Jews are considered to be cattled, called "goyim", the Hebrew for cattle. They are just there to serve the Jews."
"I know, I know all about the Talmud! It's very different from those Jews who believe in the Torah."
"My boss grew up with this worldview that basically said he could do whatever he pleased because it was all in the interests of Greater Israel. It served his purpose, too. He was an ambitious man and unsrupulous."
"You get born again Christians like that too!” muttered Tim, as he poked the fire.
“The Redshills control the US government and economy and are sucking the blood out of it like parasites. I'm afraid America is heading for the same total economic collapse. The banks here don't pay taxes either. They go get themselves some offshore base. Anyway, like I was saying, there was no money for schools, for hospitals, for any social services in Russia because all the money was sucked out of the system by the six Oligarchs, five of whom were Jews and one of whom was Russian. The same story was repeated throughout the countries of eastern Europe. As soon as the Communist regimes collapsed, the Israeli financial mafia came in under cover of being “promoters” of democracy, opening up their offices everywhere, making contacts, spreading bribery and corruption in a system that was already rotten to the core. They created criminal networks that took over governments, recruited from the ranks of the secret service officials or Communist elite. They took over the media, and bombarded the population with propaganda about the merits of capitalism, competition and democracy.”
“Just like America!” said Tin, laughing.
“I became the chief accountant for a criminal network composed of about 10 Russian companies and various other European hedge funds and offshore companies. I was in charge of ploughing money earned from sources like drugs and prostitution into legal front companies. I also laundered money through the gigantic fees paid for soccer transfers. I also set up a slush fund for special programmes like buying votes for our guys in local city elections. I’d fund huge armies to go around paying people for their vote in exchange for drugs, alcohols or money. People had to produce evidence, say a photo from their cell phone showing that they had voted the way we said or they’d be in trouble. Once elected into government and in key positions, our guys passed laws that allowed them to everything, lock, stock and barrel. The police was in our pocket. The judges were, too. Anyone who tried to resist was wiped out.
My boss was a really clever guy, a smart guy. He’d got an doctorate in physics St Petersburg University. He had a phenomenal capacity to grasp abstract theories. He was self-disciplined, too, when it came to figuring out ways of making money. He and his cronies were ready to spend hours figuring out the most complex financial scams. Though he hated and detested some of the other oligarchs, he was ready to work together with them to get what they wanted. It was a deadly game. My boss and his gang must have killed thousands of people in his battle to get control of the metals industry. Lots of others tried to kill him. He had a small army of bodyguards, prostitutes and hangers on. Everyone was expected to be 100 per cent loyal to him, mind you. Law and order had broken down and everyone was happy for the protection of a big boss. Everyone carried a weapon around with them in those days. I did too. My house was like a fortress with walls, bodyguards and burglar alarms. I lived like this for three years, enjoying a fabulous lifestyle.
I’d grown up with this veneration of money, this view that it was sacred, holy. I’d had this permanent frustration that I never seemed to have enough. Now there I was all of a sudden with literally millions of dollars given to me in cash to burn. The money went to my head. I lived like a king, going to night clubs, the most exclusive brothels, art exhitions and sports events. I was like a kid who had gotten into Alladin’s cave. My boss, Oleg, always liked to have me by his side. He liked me to travel with him wherever he went, partly because I spoke good English. He had a chalet in Klösters, a chateau in France, an apartments in Vienna, Paris, Milan New York and London. Wherever he went, there were orgies, parties, entertainments, jokes, drugs. I heard rumours about black masses, child sacrifices, Cabbalistic practices, but I was nevera part of that. I wouldnÄt be surprised if the rumours were true. He sure needed a thrill. He needed a bigger and bigger fix, a bigger dose to get the same high.”
Tim nodded.
“I’m with you!” he said.
“No matter how much time Oleg spent carousing at night time, he got up early the next morning and sat down at his desk and worked with discipline on his schemes to increase his wealth by sucking money out of every corner of the country. He had mathematical models to figure out how to extract the maximum. He knew every corner of the legal system. He figured out ever news ways of laundering money through hedge funds based in tiny islands out of the reach of the law. He lived like the Tsar. There were about 50 rooms in his fortress style house in Moscow. There was a Jacuzzi, a swimming pool, gold, marble, ivory, you name it. He thought nothing of spending 500,000 dollars on a night out at club.
Anyway, the whole country had collapsed and tens of millions of people, like I said, had been plunged into destitution while I – and others like me - picked out the jewels and thought I was so clever, too, for the way I had managed to think up all this fraud. I even thought I was a good man because I was ready to reward the prettier girls I spent my hours of relaxation with with more generous tips because they made me feel more alive for an hour or two. Yes, that was my concept of goodness and generosity! My idea of respectability was getting into my limousine and going to an art exhibition in an expensive suit and tie after robbing millions of Russians of their pensions by a sleight of hand. I didn’t see anything wrong with it. Everyone around me was behaving like that. The good guys all got pushed to the wall. Who wants to be a looser?"
"Right. Right," muttered Tim.
"Then one day something happened. It was a small thing, and at first, it didn’t make much of an impression on me."
"What?"
"Well, I was driving into the center of Moscow for a business meeting. There was a traffic jam. Cars clogged up all six lanes of the highway. Ignoring the warning of my driver, I got out of the car and set off on foot across Moscow.
The distance to the nearest metro was only a couple of kilometres, and I figured I’d make the trip easily even though it was a part of town I didn’t really know, a run down spot, a place full of desolate markets and dilapidated buildings and dangerous looking people. I was determined to get to my appointment on time all the same. My boss had insisted I open the meeting with a presentation to some American investors, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.
Anyway, I was walking down a street when I saw two kids standing among the patches of snow and the trash. They were only about three or four years old. They were standing in the street on their own in dirty clothes, their faces covered in grime, obviously neglected. They were so thin too.
There was a boy and a little girl: I think they must have been a brother and sister. The girl looked pale and worried. The boy was trying to cheer her up, showing her a stick or a toy.
What a depressing sight to see two kids standing there all alone in the middle of a road with all these pot holes and puddles and trash, and with no adult around to care for them! Mind you, it wasn’t unusual. There were hundreds and thousands of kids living on the street and in the sewers. Families had broken up. Unemployment, poverty, crime had taken their toll.
"These two kids were some of the most beautiful children I had ever seen, and I couldn't tear myself away from them. I swear that if angels came down to earth, they would look like these two children. I wondered where their parents were.
Why were they own their own like this? I stopped and asked the kids where they lived. At first, they were too confused and frightened to answer. They didn't seem to know much. Their mother had fallen ill, and died, they said; they shrugged when I asked them about their father. They told me that they lived in a cellar.
I saw that they were in bad shape and was about to take them to a police station or to some social place to get them some help, but then I realised how time was marching, and I didn’t want to be late for my meeting. To cut a long story short, I took out my wallet and gave them some money. Not much. But more than they'd seen for a while. They took it and thanked me. I walked off to the metro."
"You did?"
"I forgot all about the kids. That night I went out to a restaurant with the guys from the meeting. I didn't get home until the early hours. I was so drunk I fell asleep immediately.
I had a dream. I saw the two children like angels come towards me. They were pale and thin, but this time there were two adults accompanying them. These adults were sinister, threatening looking guys. The children came to me and looked at me. What a look! There was a look in their eyes I'll never forget. They didn't say a thing, but their eyes communicated so much, so much. It wasn't reproach. It was more like resignation. No, it wasn't that either. It was fear and terror and suffering and all kinds of emotions. I can’t describe that look.
Then they were led off by the two men with them – and for some reason I cannot account, I knew, I knew with certainty that they were going to their deaths. I knew these two adults holding them by the hand were taking them somewhere terrible. I woke up trembling from fear, from the horror of those eyes that had looked at me in the dream sensing that they were going to their death. I couldn't get back to sleep," Cormac said, staring into the fire.
"The next night, I had the same nightmare. The same eyes pursued me through my dreams, and I felt the same horror when the two children were lead away. I had the dream for four nights in a row, and then it stopped. With a certainty I couldn't account for, I was sure the children had died. I felt a huge hole in my life. I cannot describe the feeling and the pain this caused me. I went to look for the children in the hope I was wrong and would find them alive. I searched all over the city, but I couldn't find them anywhere. From then on, I couldn’t sleep without nighmares and I couldn’t eat because I felt so tense. My psyche was disintegrating, and its parts were constantly at war. My conscience tormented me. Yes, my conscience. I had never believed there was such a thing. I had always believed I could do what I pleased and nothing would happen to me: I could rob and steal and stuff myself like the rich man at the banquet while Lazarus starved to death and never have to suffer the consequences. But then, all of a sudden, something started to stir inside me. At first, it was a quiet voice, a kind of doubt, but then that voice got louder. On the outside, my life went on as before. But inside my mind, there was so much anguish that my life became a living hell."
"I know."
"There are some people who say there is no such thing as hell. I know now there is. There is a point where our psyches disintegrate under the weight of all the wrong things we have done and our own justifications, defence mechanisms and denials no longer function. Anyway, I had a nervous breakdown. My doctor advised me to go on holiday or to one of those clinics that have sprung up all over Europe to help people to find rest when they break down from nervous exhaustion.
But I decided to go with a friend to his dacha up in the north of Russia, far from Moscow, far from the world that was killing me. He liked to go hunting and fishing in the lakes up in the north.
Close by, there was a monastery. I‘d heard about the place. I decided to go see it. It was a boiling hot afternoon. The middle of July. Noon. There were hundreds of people there, many of them poor and with the worn out faces you see everywhere nowadays. They were waiting around outside the monastery. I was really impressed. I wasn’t impressed so much by the nature, beautiful though the forests and the lake were. I wasn’t impressed by the architecture but by the spirit of the people, the spirit of the place.
There was a different way of looking at things, a different approach to life. I saw it immediately in the things the people there said and did. I could see from the way they stood there that they hadn’t come out of some mechanical obedience to a higher authority. They hadn’t come out of the imperative to conform to some social norm. They hadn’t come of out of a slavish disposition.
There are some people, you know, who are ready to prostrate themselves before any idol without any joy, any desire or any love because they have the nature of a servant or a slave. Oleg was like that only he postrated himself in front of the golden calf and hated and feared every form of religion, which he was always mocking.
Anyway, I could see from the way the people stood there and the way they waited that they had come of their freewill. There was a certain independence about them as they stood there on their own ground, so to speak. They had come out of a need, a natural enough need to find the source of life and happiness and health in spiritual things. They stood there alert, watchful, waiting for the clues, the signs, the path if you like. I heard the famous Starez was going to come out and I decided to wait out of curiosity. I sat down on a wall in the shade of birch tree. A breeze whipped through the leaves. I had a good view of the monastery building, and I thought it would be entertaining to see the Straez. The Russian Orthodox church was, you see, reviving after 70 years of persecution under the Communists. There was a lot of nostalgia for the good old days, for the glorious days of before Stalin, the Gulags and Communism when the Tsar still ruled, when Tolstoy and Pushkin wrote their fantastic works! We all know how people tend to idealise the past and see it through rose-tinted glasses if the present is grim. Yes, as if Pushkin and Tolstoy didn’t write all about the horror of life under the depostic Tsar and the cruel way the serfs were treated.”
“Anyway, the Starez came out. His name was Alexander, I found out. He was a huge man, six foot three, possessed of great natural dignity, strong and robust looking. He had long fair hair and a beard, His face was full of passion and energy, but at the same time, strangely serene and calm.
“He doesn't look at all like that Father Zossima in Dostoevsky's book," my friend, who’d come with me, joked.
I wasn't an expert on Doestoevsky. I'd picked up one of his books when browsing through an airport shop, but had found it so bleak I threw it aside after a few chapters.
But this much I’d gathered from the Brother Karamazov: that Doestoevsky’s Father Zossima was sick and decrepit. Alexander, on the other hand, was young-looking, full of health and happiness. You just couldn't overlook him. He appeared and the effect of the crowds was incredible. Everyone stared at him as if he had some magnetic quality. He seemed to radiate an inner light that was so strong I was sure nothing on this earth would ever be powerful enough to destroy it, amazing as that sounds.
He walked among the crowd like a life force, like the wind, rustling through a field of wheat, like a river rushing past rocks, like the sun shining down on the forest. What a change from all the pale, complacent, vain, thin, depraved and brutal faces I was used to!
The Starez seemed to be free of the desire to impress, and completely natural and spontaneous. He wasn't by any means naïve, though. You just had to look at his face and you could see that he had experienced all the highs and the lows, the darkness and the light, and was extremely intelligent, alert and awake.
The first thing I noticed was the way he spoke to the people. He didn't address them, you know, as a crowd from some great height. He didn’t give them one big sermon from the distance. He didn’t patronise them or treat them like the masses or the herd.
No, he was the most natural, simple, unassuming and yet authentic man I had ever seen and he mixed with the people as if he was one of them. There was no sentimentality, no standing on ceremony, no self conscious posing as he walked among the crowd.
When I saw him, I felt something stir in me too. I felt some sense of what kind of a person I could be. Until that moment, I’d always thought of my life as a series of things that I had to obtain – money, houses, cars. But that moment, I recognised that the real purpose of life is really to become a great human being, an inwardly great person with great qualities. I had never until that moment really met such a great person. The gangsters who I kept company with were a set of slime balls, who needed all their money to attract attention.
It’s amazing how people instinctively recognise greatness in others. Everyone in the crowd recognised it in the Starez. There was no servile curtseying, no subordination to the Starez, but there was real respect and awe. They recognised his superior character, evident in everything he said and did, evident in his personality, in his aura.
He was affectionate and warm, but, like I said, his affection and warmth was as natural as the warmth and the light of the sun. Whenever he stopped to talk to someone, I felt a palpable wave of energy flow from him to whoever he was talking to. However pale, crushed, desperate, anxious and poverty stricken and sick those people seemed, they immediately took heart when he spoke to them. I could see it in their faces and in their eyes.
They looked more hopeful, more cheerful. I saw extraordinary things happen. People who looked trapped, hopeless and beaten down revived as soon as he spoke to them or he touched them. It was almost as if his energy had recharged them and given them a boost, a push. People straightened themselves up and grew in confidence, in inner strength when he appeared.
In his presence, all the miserable, poor, ugly people standing around seemed great and beautiful, and isn't that a kind of act of creation. The gangsters I knew spread misery. This man spread joy. That's much harder.
He talked to people individually, establishing an instant rapport with them, often laughing and smiling, but also frowning, shaking his head, muttering angrily or in disappointment as he listened with all his attention. In short, he showed a lot of feeling. What interest he had! Interest in people who are considered the scum of the earth, the loosers, the lowest of the low! The superfluous masses who should be culled, so the mafia mobsters say, because of the overpopulation of the planet!
People so poor, some didn't even have proper shoes. The old, the sick, the women and the children! How he loved them all, each and every one! And it was real love that shone in his eyes, real love in his touch, real love in his voice. It was not the usual kind of love, that is to say just flattery or vanity in order to get something from them as is so tpical with Oleg, but a genuine, hundred percent interest, an absolute desire to see them happy, at peace.
It was a real belief in them that he had, too. It was obvious that he believed that each individual could achieve something great. Every one was a unique personality to him and not just a cog in some machine, some drone to be exploited, a consumer to be fleeced of their cash, a cattle to be killed or enslaved to serve his depraved needs.
He passionately desired to see every human life blossom in their own unique way like a tree or a flower, the way it should. He didn’t have a pat answer to all the people’s problems, mind you.
I wasn't religious, but I was superstitious. I believed in my own way in the power of "holy men" and in the occult. My boss was also deep into the occult, black magic and astrology. He told me there was only one god: Lucifer. The rest of religion was a lie created by the Illuminati to enslave the masses.
Anyway, I decided to talk to this Starez, hoping that he might be able to cure me of my depression. All the same, I was too embarrassed to go up and speak to him, directly.
I don't know why I felt so inferior all of a sudden; I could have sunk into the ground for shame. Oh, the shame! The shame of all the things I had done! I became aware of just how sordid my life and how thin my personality had become by the contrast.
I was standing there, unsure what to do. He stopped close to me to talk to a middle-aged man about the financing a school in the local community. I jumped down from the wall and took a few step forward so that I was almost beside him.
I had always thought of religion as something tedious and for the stupid masses. But there he was, telling this man, this school teacher, that to know God is a deep need of all people, a natural need, and a source of life and joy. I have to say I believed him as I listened.
He demonstrated not only by his words but by his very person that a spiritual life is the most beautiful, the most contented, happy, healthy life of all. He demonstrated by his very being that such a life brought freedom, élan vital, essential experiences whatever they might be. He demonstrated by the way he stood there and talked that people lack nothing, nothing of the glory, the grace; it is all in themselves. The power, the light, the knowledge they need is in themselves.
I wanted to get closer to that life that flowed through everything he did and said. He turned to me.
"You've come to do some sight seeing," he remarked, smiling, when he saw me.
"No!” I blurted out. “I’ve come to find a cure for my depression”
He looked at me, surprised.
“I have done such terrible things, such terrible things,” I muttered, not knowing what to say.
"That's not a reason to be depressed," he said, stroking his beard.
“If you knew what I've done!" I repeated. "If you knew how I've spent the best years of my life running after money, running after it like a slave. Yes, I was ready to steal the bread from people dying of hunger and stuff myself like a pig. I took and I took and I clawed and I grasped and I spent lavishly on myself, on after shave, on fine Armani suits, but saved on everyone else, shaving off roubles from the low salaries of my staff. I hoarded and I invested and I calculated and I schemed how to get more and more. I was convinced I was cleverer than all the other people who hadn't understood the cynical rules of life!" I said, and then stopped, overcome with horror at my own life, which I'd never really questioned until then because everyone I mixed with was the same.
"My dear son,” the Starez said, tucking his hands into the wide sleeves of his dark gown.
”What are you going on about?”
“What do you mean?”
“You're like someone going around in a fog or a mist seeing difficulties where there are none.”
“I am?”
“Yes! In this fog, you seem to think you're one of the most wicked men who ever lived and that there is no cure for your wickedness. That’s not true. In fact, there’s a kind of pride and stubbornness in the way you cling to the idea of how you've done wrong and tell me all the details with so much relish,” he said, frowning.
“After all, if you declare yourself to be so greedy and arrogant and wicked, it means you don’t have to improve because you can’t, according to your view. But the truth is you can improve and you have the responsibility to improve.”
“I can’t,” I said. “There’s something the matter with me. I am defective, deficient...”
“Nonsense. How can you say such a thing? When the philosophers said: know yourself, they meant; know yourself in all your greatness. You have to know yourself as essentially pure and clean and blessed with unimaginable riches of spirit inspite of all your faults and flaws. Believe me, you only became so obsessed with money and all that because you were blind and ignorant to the truth about your own nature. Lack of self esteem and self doubts have made you crave the approval of others. A feeling of being deficient has made you look for power and money as a kind of compensation. You want to impress othersd with them. You have been suffering under the delusion that you were poor and needed all this stuff to make you feel good and wealthy, safe and happy. You don’t! That stuff is just junk. It's here today and gone tomorrow. Don’t waste time on trinkets and trash. You have a treasure inside you that is much more valuable. You don’t need any of that clutter.”
His words amazed me. His look literally cut into my spirit like a laser. I saw in his eyes, his absolute faith in me. I don't know how else to express it. There was a spark, an insight, a charge of energy. I felt like someone had punched me between the eyes. For a moment, a split second, I saw the kind of man I could become. I saw I could become a great person like him, rich in the best human qualities, a real benefit to others, loved for what I was and not for what I had. It was only for a split second. But it was enough.
That moment, I set myself a new standard. My life changed forever. I decided there and then, that I believed in the greatness of human beings, in their ability to see the infinite and to be part of that infinite energy and power. I had been dead and I was brought back to live again. Yes, I felt full of life from head to toe, alive. My eyes were opened and I saw again.
But a moment later, new and agonising doubts seized me. My old life seemed unendurable to me. But could I really leave it behind that easily?
Could I really just shed it like an old coat and move on to a new life?
The Starez must have seen my doubts because he addressed them immediately.
“The past is the past,” he said, taking his hands out of the long sleeves of his gown again. “It’s over and done with. Finished. Don't waste time wallowing in you rmistakes. If you’ve done things that are wrong, then acknowledge the fact and use the remorse you feel to generate the power you will need to change your life. There’s no reason why you shouldn't put the past behind you if you are determined to do so. There is nothing stronger on earth than the will power of a human being."
"You're right," I said. Nobody on earth is going to be helped if I just give up and roll over."
"That is the point, isn’t it? To help others! To make a positive contribution while you can! Life is short. There’s no time to waste. And there is no reason why you shouldn't be as pure as the purest snow, as beautiful as the most beautiful birch tree tomorrow if you want to and if God showers you with his infinite mercy. He can wipe away any stain in an instant," he said.
Then, he turned away and walked on to the next person, an old woman with a shawl. I stood there in the shade of the birch tree, thinking about what he’d said. The next day, I went back to Moscow and to my old life.
I had gotten so used to living in my villa with bodyguards that I hadn’t noticed how hard it was to be always vigilant, always on the alert for danger and threats. After my visit to the monastery, my life seemed unendurable. My own home seemed cold and boring. Even the marble, the gold, the ivory seemed to be without any lustre or glow. I felt restless, unable to settle down to anything. I felt something was lacking all the time. Panic gripped me. The best years of my life were over and I’d achieved nothing, absolutely nothing, I realised.
I went to one of Oleg’s parties a few days after I returned to Moscow. I told him about my visit to the monastery. He became really hostile. Maybe he felt threatened? Maybe his conscience got to him? Anyway, he sneered at the Starez when I mentioned him, laughed at the idiocy of the people who had gone there and the stupidity of the masses who had fallen for the "mind control" that was religion. I knew there was no point in trying to convince him.
I read somewhere that our brains change depending on the thoughts we think. A neurologist in some magazine explained that we create our own typical neurological configurations depending on the types of thoughts we have. From then on, we’re hard wired, so to speak, to have a certain view of life. It can take years of effort to reconfigure the hardware of our brain, so I read anyway."
"Makes sense to me," said Tim. "It can be really hard to change. There're all these self help books out there that make people think they can change in 5 minutes but it takes months or years of constant effort to change your way of thinking."
"Anyway, after that evening, Oleg began to hate me and mistrust me. He had gone to an astrologist. The astrologist had told him that his next business venture was going to fail, and that a competitor would try to kill him. Oleg believed I might be the competitor, and quietly ordered his bodyguards to watch over me. As usual, he drank half a bottle of vodka. He always became more boisterous when he drank. For entertainment, he ordered one of his hangers on to be stripped in front of all the guests and then, out of a whim, to be sodomised with the vodka bottle. Everyone was shocked, horrified, but no one dared to say anything. I didn't either. Oleg sat there and observed what happened with cold detachment. I saw his cold watchful eyes, eyes without any emotion, without any pity, without any feeling at all, as he looked on. There was even a smile on his lips. He was enjoying the spectacle of humiliating and destroying someone. Looking at him, I was sure I knew what the devil really is. Satan is an ice cold observer of human suffering. Satan is a calculator, a logical thinker, a clever long term planner, a powerful intellectual, avaricious and arrogant and without any emotion at all and he gets a kick only from extreme suffering. Dante portrayed Satan as frozen in a block of ice in hell. I couldn’t bear to watch. I felt sick when the guy's back was slashed with broken glass until there was only blood. I didn’t have the courage to intervene. I could see there was nothing I could do anyway. Oleg and his friend were drunk, and they were getting a thrill out of seeing this man suffer, and they weren't going to stop. It made them feel powerful. I wanted to get up and leave, but Oleg stopped me. He looked at me with so much hatred and suspicion that I was afraid I was going to be next. I sat down and watched the horrible spectacle to the end.
That evening, I decided to enter that monastery. I decided if there really was a better life, then I was a fool not to put all my energy and time into finding that better life before it was too late and I lost my life as well as my soul. I resigned from my job, gave up my villa, my cars, my money.
My father thought I was crazy. He didn’t know how I was making so much money, and he didn’t really care. The main thing was that I was earning more than he ever did. He told me to come back to New York if I was sick of Russia. But I had made up my mind. I’d liked the way the Starez lived. I’d seen his peace of mind. I’d seen his power. He spent his time asking himself what he could do to help others and not what he could take from them, but he had more energy, not less. He wanted other people to be alive and happy, to experience the glory and wonder of the world, but he was the happiest of all. He didn’t want to lord it over anyone, make them feel small, contemptible, exploit them or their energy to give his dead soul a kick, and yet he was the most full of life.
He seemed like a lighthouse I could steer towards in that dark night, a rock of sanity in the middle of the craziness. Yes, he was like a magnet. I felt an inexplicable attraction. There are some people whose mere presence is enough to inspire you. You see them, and you never forget them.
Anyway, Oleg was not at all amused at my decision to go into the monastery. He took my quitting as a personal insult. Here I was turning my back on him, his brother, his confidante! He told me that if I had a problem I should go to therapy, go to one of the many wellness centers that had sprung up all over Europe. I told him therapy would not be enough to get rid of my sense of sin. He looked at me, and laughed. "What sin?" He said. "There is no God. Therefore there can’t be any such thing as sin. It's all just stress, overwork. You need to relax."
But I’d made my decision. I wasn’t afraid of losing his friendship. I was afraid of losing my self, my identity, and that is the worst kind of loss. I was a dead man, a dead man walking along. My life felt surreal, inauthentic. I needed to get away from, to get out into the clean air again. I packed a few things and entered the monastery.
And I loved my new life. I entered a totally different world, an interior world, a world where I had conversations with myself whereas before I had really always only had conversations with other people even when I was alone: trying to impress them, persuade them, influence them, make out I was so great, so together, so successful when I was in pieces inside.
For the first time, I was actually focusing on my own emotions, finding out what I thought, getting to know myself. It was amazing after all the years of pressure and stress and the constant noise of the TV and the internet to find out who I was and what I thought.
I loved the rhythm of life in the monastery. I loved the sense of leisure that filled the days so that I always seemed to have as much time as I needed for the essential things. I'd always heard that life in a monstery is hard and disciplined but I didn’t feel I was doing any violence to my nature. On the contrary, it was a simple, easy and natural life. It was like wiping away a layer of dirt or dust. I didn’t have to force myself to adhere to rules or commandments. I naturally wanted to adhere to them because I soon recognised that to channel my thoughts in a certain way brought me more life, more happiness. I grew in strength, in élan vital. I realised that negative thoughts are, you know, actually unnatural. It's much more natural to have positive thoughts. Positive thoughts bring happiness and we all want that."
Anyone who cares for themselves does not want to harm their essential nature by mean and limiting thoughts about money, power and other people. These thoughts are like poison. They have a deadening effect on the spirit.
In the monastery, I learned to meditate to clean my thoughts of all the posion. I also learned the "Jesus Prayer."”
“That’s the prayer you were talking about,” said Tim.
“That’s right.” “The prayer is a technique that has been used for centuries in Russia to help people to focus their interior selves on the infinite energy, on God, and tap the very real love of Jesus Christ for each one of us.”
“So what is it exactly?”
“Simple. You have to say a prayer over and over again – and with love in your heart and also in harmony with your breath to connect and regulate the flow of energy between the worlds. The words of the prayer are simple: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us sinners.””
“That all?”
“That’s all. The hard part is saying the words over and over all day long to change the way you think. It wasn’t easy for me to learn to focus my thoughts, at first, and concentrate on the prayer. I kept thinking obsessively about my past. That stirred all kinds of memories, regrets and fears in me. But the more often I repeated the prayer, the easier it became for me to let go of my thoughts about what I had done or not done.
After just a few days, I was no longer tormented by uncontrollable worries and regrets. I felt transformed, cleaner, purer, happier. It seemed to me that a great power came to me from saying those words. Energy and insight filled me. I felt how my heart was becoming soft and tender, full of the capacity to appreciate the beauty of life. I also had feelings of intense friendliness for all human beings. In fact, I felt a burning love for the world.
I glimpsed the glory. I glimpsed the infinite! It was only for a second. But that second was enough to change me for a lifetime. Yes, I was thirsty and God gave me to drink. I was hungry and he gave to eat. I was depressed and he rocketed my spirits up. I was dead and he brought me back to life. I felt how much God loved me, yes me, someone unworthy in every way! The sense of excitement and bliss shook up my life. I assimilated this life force. I assimilated this energy. I assimilated this knowledge. I changed bit by bit. The change manifested itself in the different way. I found it easy to regulate my life. I found it easy to be disciplined, to be ethical. Virture is natural, in fact. Nothing could be more natural than to be good. To a spirit and soul that has sat down at the feast and eaten and drink its fill of the spiritual things, nothing could be desirable than to keep on wanting to eat and drink of that spiritual nourishment by focussing on God, on that feast.
I lost all my fear of death too. I realise I am born in a material body but my spiritual body is stronger and more important for my ultimate identity. That spiritual body goes on after the death of the body in this material. The world is fleetng, an iullision. But the spiritual world is real, eternal and full of bliss. However, there are many houses in the next world, as Jesus Christ put it. Our spiritual body is composed of energy. The Hindus talk about auras. The quality and intensity of that energy will determine which house we end up in. To those who pass the test in the field of battle that is life on earth, a beautiful life is waiting. And boy, do they deserve it because it sure isn't easy, is it? To those who fail the period of test and trial and who are low in inner energy, a hellish existence is waiting in regions low on energy, in regions of outer darkness. "
"Do you believe in reincarnation?"
"I do. I believe that it is a blessing, however. Those who ends up in a region of outer darkness have only one desire. That is to escape. However, they cannot escape unless they change their energy levels. That is the absolute justice operating in the world. Like goes to like. Dark and low energy to dark and low energy regions. That is the automatic and absolute justice of the judgement day. Forms of energy are separated out by their physical differences like wheat from the chaff. Anyway, anyone who ends up in a dark region wants to make their way to a region of bliss but cannot do so until they have reconfigured their energy levels and that is only possible by reentering this world, taking on a body, and acting and thinking in a way that is in tune with the higher energy levels. Our brains record everyone of our thoughts and actions on their circuits. We have to change our brain circuits. This is hard and requires a human body to perform actions."
"So reincarnation is a way of giving people a second change, you think, eh, Cormac?"
"That's right. Souls are reincarnated in bodies and so have a second chance to do it better, to make up for their mistakes, to attune their spirits to the essential order of the universe, to the rational divine principle underlying creation, and so to get closer to God's field of energy. If they use that chance on earth, improve ethically, spiritually, intellectually, they go on to a higher region, to a region of bliss."
"If they fail? If they do worse things."
"I don't know. It's clear from the Bible that God considers every man, woman and child to be precious. Killing them, stealing from them, lying to them are prohibited. Those who willfully ignore that prohibition, and destroy human life, must pay a just price. Christ says that too. He shows no leniency to those who injure others."
"So they go to hell, huh?"
"Personally, I believe there are very, very terrible regions. Compared to these regions, our earth, soaked in blood and tears as it is, looks like paradise. Dante describes them in his work, the Inferno. But not even Dante can describe what awaits some souls, I fear. That is an incentive to virtue if ever there was one."
"Then why do so many people chose evil?"
"I don't think many people do. I think most people are reasonably good. But people are weak. They think: "Oh, I'll just have a little bit of this or that, take a bit of money here or there." So, I believe most people are weak rather than evil. That said, there is also a Satanic force at work, a real force for evil that Christ also spoke about. Woe betide the human being who sinks so low as to become a prey to Satan, the lowest form of energy, who needs to suck out blood from higher sources."
"So, people don't have free will if Satan has so much power?"
"People who sink so low to become vulnerable to Satan have to be held responsible for allowing their personality to deteriorate to the point where they become Satan worshippers."
"Like Bush and Obama! All the signs are there that they're Satan worshippers, though of course they see it differently. Obama even does the freemason handshake."
"Evil is very deeply embedded in the political and economic structures of the US and the UK. Evil people promote other people. The freemasons are a group that the Illuminati use to find the most opportunistc and spineless and promote them bit by bit. But there is no need to fear. The next life comes sooner than we think. For those that battle on, true to God, there is only bliss. Fear not the person who can destroy your body, but fear the person who can destroy your soul, Christ said."
"And you found your soul in the monastery?"
"I did. Until then, I didn't have much of a soul. I'd always been a consumer, a consumer of products, of TV, films, magazins. I'd always been looking for more, filled with this hunger, this thirst, this craving.
In the monastery, that hunger ended. I was satisfied by the simple things – the taste of the water, the sight of the sun, the woods, the inspiring word in the Gospels, the greatness in ordinary people, the pure scent of the earth, the brightness of candle flames, by a triumphant feeling of love that does not want to posess anyone or anything but simply to enjoy.
Our bliss is to be a part of the intelligence that created human beings and the universe and to promote that intelligence on this earth and help create more beauty, vitality, creativity, truth and happiness. This is the central task of human beings. To be co creators in God's creation. To do this fills us with health and life. Like a baby who drinks from the milk of the mother or like a grape that grows on a vine, it is the connection to the divine that gives us life.
Anyway, I very soon became aware of something in me that was divine, a brilliant core of light and energy buried deep inside me, a treasure of gold, a power in my soul.
But then, after a year in the monastery, I started to have doubts, terrible doubts. I started to think: after all I've done, after all the suffering and pain I have caused to others, I'm simply not worthy of knowing such total happiness.
Surely, I’m just deluding myself? Living a fantasy? Being an escapist?
Whenever I thought about my past actions, I felt such loathing for myself that this disturbed my capacity to concentrate on God, on Christ. I lost the flow, the connection. I became tired, weary, demotivated. I kept thinking how I had stolen the bread from other people's mouths, and left them to starve, to die, to a life of hell and of misery, and I became depressed and hopeless.
The fact was I had left children to die in misery, in cold, hunger on the streets. I had left them to the prey of gangsters and criminals. There was blood on my hands, real blood, innocent blood.
I asked myself: have I really experienced God’s love and mercy? Or am I just deluding myself? Is this just wishful thinking to escape my own very real guilt? Is it all just a fantasy so I don’t have to face what I have done? Was God just a figment of my imagination, an empty delusion, a comforting drug.”
Alexander kept me going. He believed in me. I saw how much faith in me he had, and I found the strength to have faith in myself. Without his encouragement, I'm sure I would have given up.
And the more effort I made, the more I focussed on the prayer and not on myself and my past, the more bliss I experienced.
The stream of love and energy that I felt coming from God had the power to change me in a way that a hallucination or a drug never could have.
Alexander died. I was shattered."
"When was that?"
"Nine years ago now. His death left a hole in my life that has never been filled. You get a glimpse through a person into infinity, into the other world. And then that person vanishes off the face of the earth. You go and look for them and you can’t find them anywhere. And you're alone. And this feeling of aloneness was terrible until Alexander appeared to me in a dream and told me to go and live on my own in solitude in the mountains in my own country and seek God there and pray for other people, always, all the time, never stopping, all day to do my best to help end the suffering, the anguish and the misery that has spread to every corner of our war torn, ravaged world under the corrupt and power crazed elite who only want to line their own pockets and who’ll use any trick and manipulate every weakness. It was a tall order! But I left Russia and came to an Orthodox monastery here in America. Anyway, between one thing and another, I ended up in ths cabin. Sometimes I see Alexander in my dreams. I feel his benevolent presence watching over me. The very same life that was such a burden to me is now a source of happiness. Every minute of the day seems precious. Every minute that I can experience the miracle of creation is a great gift. I like to read the Gospels. There was a time when the Bible seemed to me to be the most boring book in the whole world. It seemed so far removed from real life! I preferred anything to that. Thrillers, newspapers! And of course, I loved the movies. In the meantime, I see the Gospels are speaking to me about the deepest concerns of my own life, often in parables and using symbols. There is so much truth and power in these words, and such energy and goodness in the person of Jesus Christ, that I never get tired of thinking about him and his life, what he said and what he did.
I understand his greatness, his infinite compassion and his love all the better because I knew Alexander. Because I knew him, I have some idea of the measure of what a human being can be. I believe we human beings really are in our essence divine and able to connect and communicate with the divine, and even to become divine. I can believe too that Jesus Christ really is my friend, my guide and my consoler, who knows me and accepts me as I am in spite of all my faults and limitations as long as I keep trying. I believe too that every human being can develop Christ-like qualities if they put their mind to it and develop a capacity for universal love.
People love their father and mother, their brothers and sisters, their wives and children, their president, their country. In fact, they often justify murder and robbery by saying they are doing it for their family or their country!
When will they realise that the love they feel should be boundless, limitless because everything shares in the same divine energy?
The love we feel should extend to all humanity and all of creation, to all the animals and plants, because they are all worthy of nothing less than that love, splendid creations that they are, infused by the energy, the light and intelligence of the Creator, and with their own special purpose on earth.”
“True,” said Tim. “All the main religions of the world encourage us to love... “
"And to love without limit because only such love comes close to the love of God for us.”
“Why do you think there is so much talk about religions being alienated from each other, Cormac, when they’re really all talking about the same God, albeit from a different perspective and through a different cultural lens?”
“Good question. All the world’s religious founders say essentially the same things. They all talk about our need to love and honour the divine. But religions has so often been misused by people seeking power over others. Religions liberate people. For the ruling elite, religion is dangerous. They want slaves.
Just think of the Catholic Church. Historically, the Catholic Church has often acted like an empire, concerned with conquest and with worldly power. How many Churches can fulfil their purpose today and help people to find their way to God. Just look at the wars, conflicts, poverty and famine that have turned so much of the world into such a hell today. And now there is global warming too. This is just the latest and most tragic symptom of how far the human race has gone down the wrong path, focussing only on money and power, using natural resources for their own gain, for commerce and trade.
Yes, the human race has developed into the most unnatural species. The modern western world is totally out of touch with their spiritual nature. That opens them to all kinds of dangerous manipulation from dark forces. They are also toally out of tune with nature and the environment – and other people. Today, millions and millions suffer every single day from hunger, and war and injustices of all kinds. And there is no end in sight. Far from it. One tiny group continue to suck out all the wealth and the others are left to abject poverty. Now as the natural resources are reduced because of commercial exploitation and environmental degradation, the wealthy group have started to rob the land and the water from the poor too and leave them to starve. Or else they incite conflicts and wars cynically.”
"The Talmud is at the bottom of this," said Tim. "It's Satanic when you come to think of it and in direct contradiction to the Torah. Moses told the Jews not to kill or lie or steal. Those were commandments without exception."
"Christians cherry pick the bits of the Bible that suits them too. "The Devil can cite scripture for his own purpose," as they say."
"Now it's the Endgame," muttered Tim. "It looks like the US might not survive. I wonder, though, do we deserve to survive. So much corruption. No one has investigated September 9/11. I mean, any crime is possible in our country!"
“Where is the blossoming garden that God wanted to see here on earth? Where are the happy, creative, inspired people?”
“Good question!” Cried Tim, stroking the cat.
“Mother Earth is aware of all the pain suffered by so many of human beings and other living creatures every single day. That pain affects the earth too.”
“Do you really think so?” “You think it sounds far fetched, Tim? I don’t think so! Whether you read the Bible or the Hindu scriptures, you’ll find the belief that human being’s behaviour can affect the energy, the atmosphere and the very earth. The ice in the Artic shrinks and droughts, floods and fires and hurricanes wreck havoc in protest at the amount of evil energy now in the world.”
“I think people are getting fed up,” said Tim.
“Fed up with all the work and the stress and the way the banksters suck out all their money!”
“I hope so. What kind of a life is that? We were created to work but also to develop our talents and our spiritual side to make contact with God and experience fully the mystery, beauty and wonder of the universe. The times are so inimical to spiritual development that it is a wonder anyone sets off on that path.”
“And yet millions of people keep searching because they are aware that something is radically wrong with their lives. In fact, I would say, Cormac, that the desire for change has never been greater.”
“Yes, seen against the background of our infinite potential, it's hard not to feel very sorry for people today. Anyone can see how they suffer from being trapped in a narrow, small way of seeing things that does not fit with their natural greatness of soul! They’re missing all of the glory! The great feast of life! The freedom just to enjoy existence! The wine! The blissful consciousness of being united with the divine even while we are here on earth! Even here while we are alive on earth we can enter a state of consciousness that connects us with the infinite bliss! This is the good news Jesus Christ was talking about! The amazing news is that there really is a God! We don’t have to battle on in an absurd and cruel world. He is here with us, in us, and all around us. We are all safe, absolutely safe and loved by God! we just have to find him,” Cormac said and threw some more logs onto the fire.
Tim sighed.
"I just wish I could experience God the way you described it, Cormac. I’ve always read the Bible, but to be honest, it’s often seemed quite far away from my day to day concerns. Quaint stuff. Interesting but a little remote from my experiences.
I guess, I’ve always thought of Christianity as a set of moral commandments, an ideology. I always aimed to live in accordance with the commandments, that is, the letter of the law.
Maybe that was the problem? Religion was all about abstract words and commandments. I didn’t think about experienceing God’s presence or love. I think if I had been able to feel love, the kind of love of God that you describe, the kind of spiritual connection, I wouldn't have ended up so desperate for something to lift me up that I went to see that guy Rob Owen in Denver for sex. So great was my need for that love, any kind of love, that I couldn’t stop myself even though I knew it was wrong.”
"For sure! For sure!” Cormac looked at Tim attentively, his face glowing by the light of the fire. "But you really need to want to find God. Finding him is not like a stroll in the park. You have to really want to find God. Really want to stop using God for your own pride and ambitions, and focus on understanding him on his terms."
"Believe me, I'm so sick and tired of my life, Cormac. I’m so fed up, so hopeless. I wish I could start all over again with a clean slate. I wish I could just start over afresh and find God, find peace!”
"Well, that's the first step. Till people are really sick and tired of the same the old misery, the old hopes and the same old disappointments, they'll never be receptive to anything new, let alone muster the effort to break out of their old habits."
"Well, I am sick, sick to death of it all!" Tim cried, poking the fire with a stick. "I'll try anything."
"Okay," Cormac muttered. He stroked his beard. Next, he got up and walked over to a wooden chest, opened it, and took out a book.
"This book here will teach you the “Jesus Prayer”. Read it and you will find out what you really need to know about how to experience God directly, inside your soul. This simple prayer will allow you to find that light, that divine bliss, that comfort and inspiration that makes the whole of life so sweet and so delightful and so simple. This book will show you the way to find that illumination that mystics from all ages and all religions have spoken about,” Cormac said as he held the book out to Tim.
Tim took the book. He ran his eyes over title: “The Way of the Pilgrim.”
“Thanks,” he muttered. “Looks interesting.”
“Say the Jesus Prayer and you will soon see the glory of the world and God’s blessing in every hour of your life. If you practice the prayer, your eyes will open and you will see the infinite light blazing with the power of a million suns as the darkness of our own consciousness, taken up with our egotistical desires, plans, hopes and disappointments, fades like the clouds fade in the sky. By saying the prayer all the time, we can keep our consciousnesses on God."
"All the time?" asked Tim, amazed.
"Yes, all the time! Twenty four hours a day. In sleeping and in waking!”
"Is that possible?"
"It is! The most important things is need to feel faith, be ready for something new, and feel love in your heart, right here," Cormac said, thumping his chest. "God’s love will soften your heart again, soften that fleshy organ, so that it can feel again. Feel empathy, tender feelings for other people. When you feel these feelings of compassion and love for other people, you will be at one with God’s energy already. Trust in Him always, and trust he will rush to your assistance as soon as you make an effort. Persevere through all difficulties, always trusting in Him. You connected with him all the time through this prayer, keep the flow of energy between you and him all the time. By constant introspection, self analysis, effort you will overcome all inner obstacles, psychological blocks and bad habits. Just look at me. I’m living proof of the power inherent in that prayer. I used to be totally blind, deaf and dumb. I walked this earth and saw nothing, absolutely nothing. I looked at the world and the only quesiton I asked was: was is useful to me and what is not useful to me. If something or someone was useful to me, I was interested. If someone or something not useful, I was indifferent. Now, I have a bigger perspective. I’m interested in everything. I see God is everywhere. I see Him in every flake of snow, in every pine needle, in the stars and mountains, in the sun that rises on each new day and in the night that falls. I see Him in the rivers and the rain and in the flowers and in all the animals and insects. And I see Him too in myself, in my arms and legs and in my heart and lungs and in my own mind. I see Him in every one of my waking thoughts and emotions. I feel His abundance of love for me in every fibre of my being and in every cell of my body; sometimes I feel such joy it’s almost at times like agony. Yes, the joy and energy of God is hard for us human beings to bear. It is so great that it can destroy us if we’re not prepared for it and attuned to it just like the beam of a laser can destroy us because we are not able to absorb that kind of energy. I walk around in these mountains, in these forests, and always and everywhere I see His presence in every particle of the air, in every tree and river and every animal. I am astonished at the creation around me and its beauty and sweetness. Just to look at creation fills me with energy and hope. I see how nature is saturated with the presence of God, how God is in every atom around us and in us. The suffering on earth will end as soon as people open their hearts and see what they are really here for: to be happy and to make others happy! To enjoy creation and to help others to enjoy creation! To expand, develop and grow and reach ever greater heights of awareness! Right now, most people only want to make themselves happy or their own small family or their country. They think in power blocs and classes and economic, political and social concepts. How much suffering there is! How many innocent children suffer every day! How many women suffer! How many millions suffer from wars and poverty and cruelty and injustices of all kind. I wonder how the earth can bear it because the earth feels everything that happens on its surface, every naked body, stripped and beaten and left dying on its surface, every soul in agony, all the pain and despair, of that I'm sure, like I said.
And I know the earth weeps more than we human beings do at the suffering that we inflict on others as a matter of routine in our insane selfishness and delusions. Sadly, the human race has developed to an amazing degree the capacity to avoid looking at its own awfulness. Yes, it is always someone else’s fault. There is always someone else to blame, someone else threatening us, endangering us, deceiving us. There are always ten, ten thousand, ten million people who have to be killed, suppressed, tortured because they are enemies. As I say, we have to fight against our own tendencies to egomania, greed and selfishness first of all before we fight for a better world. And a mighty battle it is, too. It can only be won with God on our side. Only with his energy and inspiration can we find the strength to combat that arrogant ego that has taken over and put itself on the throne of our lives and that is filled with endless, seething desires, fears and self serving delusions.” Yes, as soon as Nietzsche said God was dead, and human beings were left to take charge of themselves, and decide how to govern the world, all hell let lose. The last century was one of mass murder, genocide, the Holocaust, on a scale that beggars belief, and the next century might be worse – though the rapid destruction of our planet might but an end to the vile ambitions of some to rule as kings."
"I just wish the Christian churches would wake up and learn to communicate to people that spark, that living spark of faith, by radiating the spirt of love.”
“Yes, yes,” said Tim, stifling a yawn.
“Well, it’s getting late and I'll stop now,” said Cormac.
"Looks an interesting book," said Tim, flicking through the pages. ""The Pilgrim's Way." I'll read it tomorrow."
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