So I've become fairly certain that I'm a spiritualist. It's been an interesting journey over these last few years -- one that certainly continues -- but at this point in my life, spiritualism is my faith home.
I guess my evolution began when I couldn't wrap my arms around the idea that if a person doesn't believe in Jesus as Savior, said person is doomed to hell. The Buddha? Ghandi? All of the great non-Christian philosophers, thinkers, and scholars that have ever walked the earth? All the non-Christian pacificists? All the non-Christian philanthropists? Need I go on or have I established why I call "bullshit."
It had always kind of bugged me that whatever church I happened to be in at any given time proclaimed itself to be the world's only bastion of truth, and that Jesus was the only way. And look, I still believe in Jesus for sure. He was a great teacher, prophet, holy man, and quite possibly WAS the Son of God. I don't know. Do I believe in the resurrection? Is "maybe" going to be a good enough answer for now? Because that's the answer I have.
I think in a lot of instances, something that was very good and very pure -- that being Christianity -- has been corrupted by the influence of man. It's been used to control, individually and on a macro scale. It's been used to justify things that the application of just a little common sense would identify as wrong. It's proclaimed itself the be-all to end-all. And I'm sorry, but I think there are fantastic people of every faith, of whom God is proud, who go to heaven. I don't care if you're Muslim, Hindu, Christian, Buddhist, Shintoist, it doesn't matter. I believe in a loving, peaceful, benevolent God; one whose grace defies understanding. (I guess it IS good to maintain some of the ideas of the Christian faith I was raised in.)
I had a vision of Jesus once. I know. Dear reader if you told me you had, I wouldn't believe it either.
I was doing a meditation I enjoy, called "visualizing a deity." It doesn't have to be Jesus. I guess really it doesn't even have to be a deity. I suppose I could use my favorite Founder, Thomas Jefferson, if I chose.
But this particular night, it was Jesus.
The meditation requires one to focus slowly, intentionally, and carefully on every physical aspect of the subject. In my case, I began with Jesus' sandals. I envisioned the dust on them, observed their color and construction. I saw the frays and imperfections.
I then moved to his robe. It was like burlap, only softer. There was a rope doubled around his waist, tied just left of center as I faced him.
As I raised my eyes toward His, he said, "Jason."
I hit my knees and buried my head to the ground as quickly as possible. This wasn't part of my meditation. This was a real man. This was a real God. This was Jesus Christ. I would testify to it under oath and under penalty of death.
I reached out meekly to try to touch the bottom of his robe. I remembered the teaching about the old lady who reached out and touched his clothing as he passed and was healed.
As I took hold of the bottom of his robe, I curled it slowly in the fingers of both hands. There was some peace in doing so, but at this point, I was becoming scared. "This is it. This is where I'm told that the life I have lived is an abomination to God. This is where I hear that it's over. I'm no longer loved by the Creator of the universe, and his Son was sent to deliver the message."
I felt a soft hand on top of my head. I tried to bow further...into the ground if it was at all possible. That's when I heard, "No. Stand and look at me."
Right. I'm going to stand and look into the eyes of Jesus himself. The Catholics had taught me that my reaction was pretty damned spot on. However...when Jesus tells you to stand and look, you stand and look.
He was handsome, a little rugged, maybe appeared a little old for his age, and had a slight smile on his face. Surprisingly, gazing at Him didn't bring the fear I expected. There was actually a sense of -- well -- normalcy I guess.
I was still pretty sure I was going to be told I was damned for eternity, or at least that I need to clean up some list of all the many, many mistakes I've made in my life to have a shot at any sort of heaven.
I will never forget the words He spoke. So simple. So profound. So shocking. He said:
"Go, and be well."
There was no order given. There wasn't even a request; at least not something I would need to perform to achieve some sort of reward. He told me to "Go, and be well."
I turned to leave His presence and the whole scene vanished. I was awake and alert, lying in my bed, fully certain this had not been a dream.
Now, keep in mind that I don't ask anyone to believe anything. I have had many spiritual experiences, most of which would be met with a healthy dose of skepticism. And I would expect nothing less from someone who has not had such experience. I myself would likely be a skeptic if not for personal experience.
After marinating on my encounter for a few days, I finally asked some friends what they thought. Some said, "cool" or "that's wild," but one got to the heart of my concerns about what I had seen and heard.
I was maybe doubting myself a little. Maybe I was trying to put some distance between myself and what I perceived as meeting Jesus himself. (I still do perceive it that way, by the way.)
I told her, "I know it doesn't make sense. Why would He come to me? I'm not anyone. There are a billion people I would think He'd appear to before me. I'm not even a good person, really, let alone a great one."
She said, "I think you're looking at this the wrong way. Who did He appear to in the Bible? It wasn't kings and pharaohs and other 'great' people. It was to lowly shepherds and criminals and tax collectors."
We laughed as she explained that she didn't mean I was a hideous person, but rather was attempting to provide an explanation as to "Why me?"
It was the answer I needed. I believe to this day it is the correct one. Jesus didn't really make a habit of appearing to people who thought they didn't need Him. He appeared to the ones that did.
He said what I needed to hear. And as I've contemplated it in the years since, I needed it for a whole host of reasons.
Again, He didn't come to me barking orders. He said, "Go, and be well." Go and be all right. Go and stop beating yourself up. And go and stop feeling inferior, broken, and useless. Go and do something that makes you happy. Go and know I'm here. Go and know I always will be. Go and be Jason. That's enough.
"Go, and be well."
Prior to my experience, I would have thought a vision of Jesus would have included instructions, guidance, expectations, probably some chastising, maybe just shaking of his head and walking away in exasperation. I received none of that. I wasn't told to quit my job and roam some far off land preaching, teaching, or feeding the hungry. I was told to go and be well.
I can do that. Well. I can try. Of all people, Jesus knows that's an unusually difficult task for me. I have a conscience more ferocious than a thousand Great White sharks. And it's chewed me apart on many sleepless nights.
I've also had a tendency to allow other peoples' opinion of me shape my own. I'm getting much better with that, but there was a time that when I was told I was a worthless piece of shit, welp, I was a worthless piece of shit.
As is the case with all humans, my life experience has shaped me in many different ways; some good, some not. I have learned to become the person I am through trial and error, through moving people into and out of my life, and by studying the one topic of which I should be the world's foremost authority: me.
The funny thing is, I haven't always been the foremost authority. As I said, for a long time, I allowed the evaluations of others to become my own, and it's been a challenge to learn which people mean well and which don't. Hell, even the most well-meaning people can have moments where they're callous and destructive. More on that later.
I view myself as an immensely flawed human being, or as I like to call it, "a human being." I believe I was designed by an omnipotent God. I believe that the design flaws he included in me -- and you -- were deliberate. Free will is probably chief among them, and thank God for that one. Though life, our choices, our experiences, and our existence can be painful and difficult, it would have been a waste (in my human opinion) to create something with the ability to reason and learn and grow, and send it through a perfect existence. There would be no use for the strength and resilience of the human spirit without the challenges we face.
The human spirit.
That's something I have a lot of experience dealing with too.
I am sensitive. (Yes I have a big heart that gets me in trouble sometimes, but that's not what I mean.) I can sense the spirits of people who have "crossed over" or to put it bluntly: died.
It is through these experiences that I know for certain that the spirit or soul (which I will use interchangeably) is real. I'll only share a few examples, but I've had too many to count.
My girlfriend Trina's best friend was murdered several years before we met. I never had the privilege of meeting her in person, but she has chosen to share a part of herself with me in the spiritual sense.
I remember one night before Trina and I started dating, we were standing in the parking of the local Planet Fitness talking before going home for the night. I sensed Lisa very strongly. She was over my right shoulder, which was unusual. Women usually appear to me on the left. I quickly realized that was because she has such a strong personality.
I told Lisa (in the way I communicate with those who have crossed over -- in my head, but spirit to spirit) that "I'm not going to do this." She wanted to let Trina know she was still around, but I was afraid Trina would think I was just trying to sleep with her and using Lisa as a means of working my way in.
Lisa, as I now know her to be, was very persistent. Terrified, I told Trina, "Lisa's here."
She believed me immediately, which put me a little more at ease. I told her that Lisa seemed like a very strong person. Trina confirmed that, "I watched her beat up guys."
I said that even though she's very strong, she also has a light, funny, "life of the party" side. When I said, "life of the party," Trina shook her head kind of in awe.
"That's what her mom said to me at the funeral."
Lisa's shared a lot with me in the couple of years since that night. I was able to sense that she had something across her fingers. Not rings, but......well, Trina confirmed she'd given herself a "prison tattoo" of a guy's name when they were dating. I learned that her favorite band was KISS and that she hates Skynyrd. I was blasting Skynyrd while cleaning the house one day, and I could hear her say, "Turn that redneck shit off!" I confirmed with Trina that she despised them.
Lisa still makes herself known, usually when things are especially good or especially bad between Trina and I. She doesn't like it at all when I hurt her best friend with stupid words.
I've experienced both of Trina's parents on multiple occasions. I've been able to describe her mother's demeanor accurately, and even told Trina what she used to wear around the house. She called it her "duster."
She is the embodiment -- I suppose DISembodiment -- of peace and love. I can't even explain how I feel when she's around. I feel like I'm filled with an immense white light, I get very relaxing chills from head to toe, and any cause of stress or frustration immediately and completely vanishes. She is a literal angel, but without any reason to be "sore afraid." I wish I could have known her in person. Her soul is the purest and most beautiful I have ever encountered.
I've had many experiences like these, but the last and most important one I'm going to tell you about is Trina's dad.
Sadly, he and her mom passed before I ever met them in person, but as long as I live, I will never forget the night I "met" her dad.
We were laying in bed, just about to drift off to sleep, when I got this very clear picture of him. So clear that if he had been standing in front of me it wouldn't have been any clearer.
I didn't want to disturb Trina, but he kept giving me this very strong impression that "I need to talk to my daughter."
Communicating in the same way I did with Lisa, I told him that he didn't need me to be able to do that. But he insisted, not rudely at all, but made it clear he wanted me to tell her. OK...
"Baby. Your dad's here. He wants to talk to you. He's wearing black work pants, black shoes that are kind of tall, and this...I don't know...not really a shirt, not really a jacket, flannel, red and black."
She sat straight up, eyes wider than I'd ever seen.
"That's what we buried him in. (Her oldest brother) picked it out. I hated it. He never would have worn that."
Her father had chosen that as his way of proving to her that it was really him.
I asked her to sit up, close her eyes, take a deep breath and clear her mind.
As soon as she did, I could tell that he was communicating with her.
She began to sniffle a little. Trina is a heroically-strong woman. She doesn't cry. And if she does, you better pay attention.
I thought about putting my arm around her, but I knew it would "ground" her and she would lose contact with him. I also knew that she was with someone who would never hurt her under any circumstances.
Eventually she lifted her head, tears streaming down her face. "He was holding our son."
Shortly after we got together, Trina had a miscarriage. Her doctor had told her she couldn't get pregnant due to a procedure she had years ago. We believed that. The doctor was wrong.
Unfortunately, because of that procedure, it was clinically impossible for her to carry to term. She miscarried after a few weeks. We talked about "what if" many times after that. See, Trina is my soulmate, and we'd both love to have had a child born out of the part of our purpose that exists for each other.
We named our son. (We both knew it was a boy somehow.) Jacob Jason Fornwalt. "J.J." Trina's dad showed her that J.J. is real. That there is a soul in heaven, adored by his grandfather, born of our love.
I saw him flash in front of my eyes about a year later. He's cuter than hell. Wispy blonde hair. Big blue eyes. I saw him in overalls and a tiny pair of Timberland boots. I knew immediately who he was. Daddy's boy. The son I'll meet when MY time comes to cross over.
For these and so many other reasons, I know the human soul is real. I know that it goes to a place better than this. I know that somehow it can travel between here and whatever "heaven" is. Or maybe it coexists somehow, here AND there. I'm not sure how all the details work, but I know that what I've said is true.
I know too that Trina and I are connected on a soul level. There were simply too many things that had to line up just perfectly for us to be together, and they all did. We even had the exact same vision of the exact same former life at the exact same time once. It was wild. (I no longer say, "unbelievable." I fully believe it all. I know it in MY soul, and would testify to it too under penalty of death.)
So we've established that I had my vision of Jesus. (You are not required to believe that it was Him, but the experience happened.) We've also established my reasoning for my unshakable belief that the soul exists. (Again, no required belief, but these experiences happened as well.)
"Cool, Jason. You're a Christian who has proof souls are real. What's the problem?"
No problem, per se, but as I mentioned earlier, Christianity isn't for me, at least not in the form that's preached here on earth.
I used the following example with Trina the other night to explain why I don't care for earthly Christians all that much; or at least the "official" teachings of many churches:
"Say someone walks into the living room and says, 'Jason, here's $100 million dollars. You have to take it. If you don't, I'm going to shoot you in the head and kill you.'"
So wait. You're offering me something that is wonderful. You're offering me an opportunity to change my life forever, and hopefully improve the lives of many others in the process. Why then, do you have to threaten me?
The simple answer is that you don't. If you offer me something amazing -- something beyond my understanding it's so good -- you DON'T have to threaten me. Yet what do so many "Christian" churches do? Welp, here come the threats.
"Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father but by Him. Oh, and if you don't do and believe what we tell you to do and believe, you're doomed to Hell for all of eternity. Unimaginable suffering. Eternal languishing in the hottest fire. Eternal separation from that God that loves you so much He sent His Son to die for you."
Wait, wait, wait. So God loves me so much, He let His kid be slaughtered on my behalf. But if I don't believe what you tell me to, He'll let me suffer forever? On what fucking planet does THAT make any sense?
Furthermore, Jesus is supposed to be the way to eternal peace and love and happiness and joy and fulfillment and...all of those things that are worth SO damned much more than money. Why in the name of all that is good and holy do you have to threaten me to get me to want that?!
"You have to take this super-great thing or you're dead." HUH?!
And these are the people who get to decide WHO gets the super-great thing or not? No, I don't think so. As I said in the beginning, there are so many truly beautiful people who are not Christian. Those people go to heaven. I'm sorry. They do.
How do I know? Well, did Jesus tell me, "Hey bud, do exactly what I say man or it's hell fire and damnation for you. Take care!"
No.
He said, "Go, and be well."
And if that's His only expectation of me, then I can be pretty damned sure that those great souls among us who have furthered the knowledge, peace, and wisdom of mankind are partying in heaven when their time here is done. For them, it's a just reward. For me, I pray that it will be grace. I believe that it will be. Though my belief system has certainly migrated away from what most would call "Christianity" I still don't believe heaven is something I will "earn."
It's been hard enough for me to just open my mind to considering that there are other "ways" that are possible. Afterall, I've been subjected to the whole "or else" thing that many Christian churches are so fond of, all of my life. It kind of scares me a little to open myself up to that damnation being reality. What if they ARE right?
Nah. A God that gave me the ability to think isn't going to punish me for eternity for doing so.
So yeah. I'm just going to say it. People go to heaven without believing that Jesus Christ is their Lord and Savior. They do. They just do.
I'm reminded of my earthly father's words to me years ago. I was in a particularly dark place in my life, and I'd created a hell of a mess for myself with a series of really stupid decisions.
He looked at me with compassion and asked, "Let me ask you something. When will you stop loving your kids and wanting to 'do' for them?"
"Never."
"And what could they do that would make you stop loving them?"
"Nothing."
He said, "Exactly. And I feel the same way."
He went on to offer his full assistance, financial and otherwise, and help me formulate a plan to dig out of the hole I had created for myself.
Now. If my earthly father can be that compassionate in a time when, quite honestly, I deserved having him give up on me, how is my heavenly Father not infinitely more equipped to do so? Why wouldn't He do so? You mean to tell me that the Father who knows the number of hairs on my head cares less about me than the father who doesn't?
Bullshit.
I just don't believe that the benevolent and loving God I have come to understand in some way would forsake me because I don't think there's only one way to get to heaven.
I also met Charon, the Ferryman of Greek Legend.
OK, goodbye to those of you who were already beginning to think I was completely insane, and now, with sure confirmation, are checking out.
To those of you still reading, let me just say that you mother fuckers are awesome. Screw those other dickbags.
So yeah, I was drifting off to sleep one night, when I felt a clear presence beside my bed. I don't know if I turned to look and physically saw him, or if it was one of those "in my mind's eye but very clear and real" kind of things.
It was Charon. I wasn't sure why he was visiting, but I knew for certain it wasn't my time. I told him that, calmly and convincingly, as I felt his bony hand move up and down my forearm.
I remembered that I had attended a summer program at a nearby university in my youth. One of the programs of study I chose was Greek mythology. (I hate that word. Mythology. Every goddamned thing in this world is a myth. Why do we make a point of identifying some of those but not others?)
Anyway, the instructor brought in a guest at the end of the "semester" to talk us through a Dungeons & Dragons type roleplay game.
When the class arrived at the River Styx, there was an old lady there who didn't have a penny to pay the Ferryman for her passage. I shouted out, "I'll give her mine!!"
When mom came to pick me up, I overheard our instructor telling her what a kind and generous kid I was, and how impressed she was that I'd give up my penny and not make the boat trip myself. (I didn't know crossing the River meant I was dying. In hindsight, it was a pretty selfish decision. lol)
But when I faced Charon as an adult, I reminded him of that day. I reminded him he got the soul he wanted, and I made it happen. I essentially asked that the old lady stand in my stead a while longer.
I had never felt any fear during this encounter, and when I realized he had accepted my offer/explanation I felt total peace.
I've come to think Charon's true role in whatever great cosmic misunderstanding there is out there is wrong.
When we think of the Grim Reaper (a Westernized version of Charon in a way) we think of a frightening figure who comes to end our lives, and not in a good way. Charon doesn't really do that in Greek lore, but it's his responsibility to ferry souls to the afterlife once they've arrived at his shore.
If he does indeed perform that service, I believe he does it as a service to humanity and the true "person" within each of us that carries on after this body is no longer useful.
I also think he has a higher position, calling, or responsibility than we've been led to believe by tradition.
I'm fairly certain that most readers of this text are unaware that Charon appears on the Altar Wall painting "The Final Judgment" by Michelangelo. It's in the Sistine Chapel. THE SISTINE CHAPEL...probably the most famous Christian/Catholic church on planet earth.
To my knowledge, the church has never disavowed his inclusion in the painting. They've never said he doesn't exist. In fact, he holds a position of honor in Michaelangelo's masterwork, directly above and just to the right of Jesus.
The Sistine Chapel, in Vatican City, where the Pope holds mass, acknowledges not only the existence, but apparent job of Charon, as he is depicted on a boat looking angry, a pile of "souls" on the boat in front of him.
The image in the painting isn't the image I saw. I saw the "Clash of the Titans" version, a skeleton in a dark cloak, and again, with bony fingers that I could actually feel.
I don't know if this is his "normal" form or not. Did Michelangelo get it wrong, depicting a huge green monster of a person? Did he shape shift into a form I would recognize so I would immediately know it was him? Did I see his true form in my experience?
It's hard to say. I tend to believe what I see, and I know what I saw.
I've developed an affinity for him since that night. I keep myself open, and try to put out the vibe that he is welcome to visit any time. I want a figure of him of some sort that I can display in my bedroom as kind of a "Bus Drivers of the Under World Welcome Here" sign.
I remember talking to a Wiccan friend of mine a few years ago. He was open about his beliefs, and I was anxious to learn.
Among other things, he talked about a reverence for Mother Earth, and the pure intention of doing no harm...not to a stink bug even. For if you do, it comes back to you, I think, seven fold? I don't recall exactly, but it was along those lines.
He also said that Wiccans believe that it's ok to have several "gods." Say you believe in Jesus but you also like Mars, God of War. Wiccans apparently say "ok." Or maybe you like Buddha and Mohammed. No problem. Maybe...Just maybe...you think Jesus and Charon are pretty cool.
I haven't done enough of my own research to decide if Wicca is right for me. But from what little I DO know, it would be Charon who would be my patron. I also like the simple (but immensely difficult) mantra of doing no harm. How can that be a bad thing?
While I like Charon, I also like so many other teachings and other figures. I mean, how can you not love the concept of The Buddha? How can you not long to be a part of any teaching that first seeks mastery of one's own mind? Is there anything more difficult or important on this earth?
I have another friend who believes in the Old Norse gods. I haven't been fortunate enough to discuss it with him too deeply, but it's fascinating, and just as plausible as any of the other stories humans tell to make sense of this life and what's after it.
I think the best thing for me to do is to be open. To view myself as sort of a radio antenna, connected to an empty vessel of some kind. I think I need to allow myself to be receptive to whom, or whatever might decide to contact me. And when it's time, I think I'll know. Then I can begin to fill that vessel with the beliefs that bring peace to MY soul.
I don't need to impress anyone. And I certainly will not allow anyone else to form the basis for something as important as my faith. As any good novice should do, I'll ask questions of those further along in their understanding than I. I'll do my own research and homework. And most of all, again, I'll make myself open and receptive.
If I'm wrong to do this, I'll have to accept the consequences. But I've never been a "just accept what you're told kind of guy." Frankly, that type of person scares me to death. Nothing good can come out of just accepting what someone tells you, no matter who it is. We have brains and hearts. They do a pretty good job of telling us what's right if we allow them to.
I hope I'll figure out where I am supposed to sail this ship at some point. I believe I will. Afterall, for now, Charon is driving.
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