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Archive for the ‘Yeshua’ Category

easter, 2012. the last four days of yeshua ben joseph

That night I spoke with my spiritual sisters and brothers who still struggled with the true meanings of my message and my mission. Most of them also still believed that I was the Messiah and would, at some point, claim my right to the throne of David.

How could I expect them to understand what so few to this day understand: That at a certain point I knew that teaching alone would not be enough. That so-called miracles would not be enough.

That a profound demonstration of the transformational power of Love would be needed.

That night Judas stole away from his brothers and went to the priests of Jerusalem and offered myself up for capture.

Why did Judas do this? As is the case with all who participated in my mission, there was agreement on the other side of the veil to perform the roles each would inhabit on Earth. Judas chose a difficult one. But was his betrayal of me pre-ordained? Nothing is pre-ordained, my sisters and brothers. Free will always shares the stage. But once choices are made, then paths are taken which are often too hard to step back from. And destinies are then reached. But if Judas hadn’t betrayed me, another path would have lead to my death.

Is it possible that my ministry could have continued and flourished and that I could have died comfortably in my bed, an old man? Perhaps even surrounded by wife and child? Yes. In fact, there exists a world in the Mind of God where exactly that path was chosen.

But it soon became clear that path was not to be this path. And so I was to be betrayed.

Judas, the zealot, had become frustrated and eventually disenchanted with my message. He wanted change now. Political change. When I did not proclaim myself the Messiah in Jerusalem, it was too much for him.

The Thursday before Passover, I informed my spiritual brothers — and sister, as Mary was with me as well — that we would have Passover supper that night rather than on Friday, as was the custom. I did not tell them I knew that I would be arrested. The upper room of John Mark’s mother and father was obtained. No lamb was served. The atmosphere was somber, the air heavy. The silence thick. I tried to cheer my companions by recalling all the adventures we had shared, the pain and joy and struggles we had shared, the laughter and song and dance we had shared. This served to lighten their loads considerably.

The wine was served. My cup was raised. “When you drink this cup, drink it in remembrance of me. It flows with the One Spirit that binds us all.” Then the bread was broken. “When you eat this bread, it is the bread of life. Eat it in gratitude to the One God for all that you have been given in this material world.”

Afterwards, I filled a basin with water and prepared to wash the feet of my beloveds, all of whom but Mary, were shocked by my intent. I began with the feet of Peter. “We have gone through much together these past three years. And each of you in your own way has tried to be by my right side, has wondered where you are to be positioned within the coming kingdom. Has wondered about the rewards that await you for serving me. My dear ones, all are equal in the kingdom of God. Each serves the other, joyfully. If you are to continue my teaching, you must release the material world’s hold on you: Honor it, celebrate it, but do not let it possess you for it is all a great illusion which will keep you from the greater truths. Be in the world. Not of it. Trust in the One Who Sent Me to care for your needs. Be an example of that faith, which will be much tested in the days ahead. Serve with a full heart and an open hand. And I will be at your side. Always. This I promise.”

I then turned to Judas: “What you must do, do quickly.” A startled Judas stood from the table and ran out, much to the dismay of the others.

All who followed me were good men and women. They each sacrificed — as did their wives and families — for something never before seen or heard. Each possessed wonderful strengths and very human weaknesses. Each, in their own way, believed deeply. They feared for me. They sought to protect me. They loved me. And after my death, they wept for me. At my return, they rejoiced. And afterwards, each went out on their own, offering the teaching to the disbelieving and the hateful, submitting to humiliation and ridicule. But they also reached countless hopeful souls, thirsting for comfort. And they gave it gladly, unselfishly. And more than I care to recount here died brutal deaths at the hands of others.

Yes, they loved me dearly. I loved them profoundly.

Returning to the camp at Gethsemane, my spiritual brothers and sisters were still questioning each other about Judas’ disappearance, and my last words to him. I took John, James, Mary and Peter aside and we went to a place where we often prayed, and I left them to be by myself, and they were soon fast asleep.

To this day I’m still not certain why I brought them with me, except that a sadness was creeping over me and I was feeling alone and needing companionship. Even though my path was clear and my decision final, still I was not looking forward to what lay ahead for me. To be spirit in the flesh is a great gift, and a difficult burden. The richness of life is found in the interplay of the joy and the sorrow and I was not immune to heartache. And so I went off by myself to ask for guidance. And found myself welling-up with emotion for all that happened and was to come. I felt the burdens of the world upon me, and also my own, personal burdens and questions: Had I been successful? Had enough seeds been planted? Would anyone remember any of what I had tried to do? Would all of it have been in vain? I too, had my moments of doubt in the Divine Plan. And so I asked of the Mother/Father: “If this is not Your Will, please take this bitter cup from me before I drink. If there is another way to serve, may I know it.” Two more times I asked as the perfumed, night air whispered past me, as the stars above illuminated the dark, as the warm earth rested beneath me. And the answer settled about me as a comforting cloak. Peace filled my heart and stilled my mind. And I went within, and I saw it all.

The Plan.

My path.

The part I played.

The part we all played.

I saw the eons expanding outward before me. I saw the subtle and the fine interconnections, the shadows lighted by the brightest light, the brightest light laced with the dark.

I felt pain becoming joy becoming peace.

I saw struggle becoming balance becoming harmony becoming Oneness.

I saw the perfect imperfect perfection of creation.

And out of death came birth.

Out of dark came Light.

Out of sorrow came Love.

I awoke. Judas arrived with a Roman guard. Our eyes met, Judas’ own eyes filled with fear and dismay and regret and anger. I met his eyes with peace as he stepped forward and hesitantly placed a kiss on my cheek, the betrayal complete.

Poor Judas, who had taken on the role of the betrayer, that frightened child within each of us, who, feeling powerless in a world it doesn’t understand and feels betrayed by, lashes out in futility, and in turn, becomes the betrayer of the self.

He went to gather his reward, already the taste of victory souring in his mouth, insisting he did it not for money but for the cause, which he believed in deeply. His moral compass shattered against the rocks of his fears, he stumbled about the darkened streets afterwards, mumbling to himself incoherently, finding himself at a cliff’s edge. Where he hanged himself from a withered tree branch. With his last breath he asked for forgiveness.

Perhaps if Judas had understood that his forgiveness was already assured, perhaps if he fully realized the love within him and the love offered him, he would have chosen a different path.

Judas was my brother.

He still is.

As I started to leave with the guard, Peter raised his sword. I stopped him with my hand. “Peter, those who live by the sword, die by the sword. Do you think that these soldiers have any power over me? Do you not know I could call upon all the Legions of my Father and be freed this instant? This I do of my own accord, freely. Now, Peter, do what you must, freely.” And I left, tears filling Peter’s eyes, Peter, who would also betray me three times before the dawn.

I will not say that it didn’t sadden me that Peter chose to fulfill his destiny by speaking three times that he did not know me. These men were more than my brothers, they were my friends.

But disappointment is just another form of judgment. It was not their purpose to fulfill my expectations. It was their purpose to do the best they could in the times they found themselves. It was their purpose simply to try. And that is all that is expected of any of us.

Because, my dear ones, failure is not only not an option, it is not possible. You will all fulfill your destinies. You will all return home with your Spirit satisfied. You will all be greeted in celebration.

And this is a great, and a wonderful, truth.

At this point, I pray you’ll forgive me, but I choose to not go into any detail as to the events of my various ‘trials’ as I was moved about from place to place, from judgment to judgment. Most of what you already know is factual. It does not serve my purposes now to add salt to already unhealed wounds over my death and those you believe responsible. Again, I say to each and every one of you:

The Jews did not kill me.

The Romans did not kill me.

The shouting crowds in the street did not kill me.

My body was destroyed by power at its most corrupt. By power born of fear. By fear born out of forgetfulness. Forgetfulness that you are not alone. Forgetfulness that you are loved beyond measure.
Forgetfulness that there is no death, that there is only life.

The simple truth is, my friends, I am not now a Jew.

I am not now a Christian.

That is a religion that sprang from the hearts and minds of others. I do not accept labels which separate. I do not accept divisions. I do not accept walls and fences, in whatever form they take.

And my dear, sweet, beloved sisters and brothers, I did not die for what you think of as your sins. It is true the certain powerful healers can take on the pain and suffering of others, even an entire planet, to assist in a people’s or a planet’s evolution.

But what you call sins are the greatest tools you have for learning and growing, for comparing experiences and making better choices. Your “sins” — your struggles and challenges and weakness — are your greatest gifts because it is through these experiences that the sons and daughters of God become the Co-Creators with the Source Of All That Is. It is how you claim your birthright.

And yes, I was judged unfairly and beaten unjustifiably by the hands of others —

As you often are by your society —

Your culture, your heritage and yourselves.

And yes, I bled, as you do.

And yes I felt the sting of pain —

Because to be human is to feel pain.

Yes, I carried my cross just as you all carry yours —

Our crosses of guilt and shame and lack of self worth and fear.

And yes, like you, I was helped along the road by strangers who gave me a drink, who helped carry my burden, who wiped my brow.

And like you, I arrived at my dark night of the soul —

Where I was crucified upon the illusions of the material world, crucified alongside others whom I never met in life —

Who lived at its darker edges —

But who, now, were at my side as equals, as brothers, crucified upon their own fears. Each of us thirsting for truth and love and peace and having it not given to us from this world of matter.

Then, like each of us, eventually, turning gradually inward, when the outer world abandons us —

Toward the unexplored regions of our heart where light breaks like the dawn upon the night.

And yes, we die to our fears —

To be eventually taken from our crosses —

And carried on the shoulders of our families and friends and gently lain to rest.

And we rest.

And in our rest we surrender to something greater than ourselves, we let go of all we thought was real. And we wait for the dark.

But it does not come.

Instead, a great Light pierces the clouds —

And we are warmed and we are awakened. And we see —

Not heavens of our own making —

But ourselves as we truly are:

Light upon Light —

Color upon Color —

Love upon Love. We embrace and are embraced. We sing and are sung to.

We look upon the Mind of God and see — not God —

But ourselves reflected —

And we are dazzled by our magnificence.

My earthy mother, Mary; Ruth, Jude and John were there with me. It saddened me that they should bear witness. How painful it is for a mother. A sister. A brother. A friend. I offered them a comforting smile, but consoling their hearts was not possible.

The sky became dark, filled with a fine sand blown in from the desert. And a profound silence arrived.

I am reported to have said from the cross: “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.” I will offer to you for the world you live in today, that there was nothing to forgive. Those who judged me and crucified me were not evil. They had forgotten the truth of who they were: the Divine made manifest. Love made manifest. They had forgotten, as you all have at one time or another. The Father/Mother/God/All That Is does not forgive, but only loves unconditionally and infinitely.

There has been much debate as to whether, on the cross, I said, “Father, why have you forsaken me?” Rather than discuss what else I am to have said (and may truly have said), I choose to accept these words because they serve an important purpose. They point to the fact that even I, just as you all, must at some point feel the depth of aloneness, that dark night of the soul, when every dark thought is recalled and every fear is faced. It is the final graduation each earthly soul must undergo in order to free oneself from the addiction of matter, the illusion of fear. And it must be faced alone. But of course, one is never truly alone. And soon the night lifts, and the new dawn breaks, and the angels of heaven sing, rejoicing in the return home of another child of All That Is.

Which brings up a final question: If I was the master of my mind, then why was I also subject to human emotions and physical pain?

Because I chose to experience human emotions and pain. But I did not suffer. Pain is a fundamental element of the human experience. But suffering is a choice. I desired to embrace the entire spectrum of human life, as have you all.

My dear ones, life is magnificent.

It is pain woven within pain, it is joy radiant with joy.

It is forgetfulness and missteps and nightmares made real.

It is beauty blessed with grace. It is truth dreaming of love.

Our lives, this world, is our canvas with which to paint upon such glories as the universe has never witnessed.

We are master artists —

Each one of us —

And in us God delights.

So my beloveds, my good friends what I now offer I do so with deepest love and gentlest intent, and not to cause distress, yet for any distress these words may cause, I pray your forgiveness:

Consider taking me down from the cross.

It is also a symbol of torture and death. It is also symbol of what was.

Consider taking me down from the cross in your own hearts.

Turn your back on death and darkness.

Turn to Light and Love and Compassion.

Consider taking yourselves off the cross.

“Father, into your hands I commend myself.”

Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, went to Pilate to receive permission to take my body for burial. It was granted. My body was buried in a tomb hewn of solid rock, belonging to Joseph’s family. On Sunday morning, Mary Magdalene, Martha, Joanna, and Rebecca hid by the tomb with special herbs and oils to anoint my body. To their horror, they found the massive stone rolled away and the burial chamber empty. Mary stepped away from the entrance and walked to one side in grief, when a voice called to her —


She turned to whom she thought was a stranger. But she recognized my voice and my gaze and my smile. And she wept with joy as she kneeled.

“Rise up, Mary. Do not cry. I have arisen as I said I would. As you all shall.” She stood on trembling legs, reaching out to me. “You must not touch me. I have not yet ascended.” My energetic body was in a high vibrational state, to touch it would have been harmful to her.

“Go to my spiritual sisters and brothers and tell them I have risen. Tell them I shall join them shortly.”

Tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks, my beloved Mary ran to tell the others. Of course, my spiritual brothers and sisters did not believe her. But soon I appeared before them each individually and told them that death is not an end but a doorway.

“My brothers and sisters, I am the Door to the limitless light. I am the Bridge over the rushing water. I am the Path through the gathering darkness. I have shown you the way. Now you must become the Door, The Bridge, the Path and show others, so that they, in turn, can light the way for those yet to come.

And I say to each and every one of you reading this:

You are the effortless Door, the unfailing Bridge, the smooth and steady Path.

Open yourselves wide, let down your barriers, lead the way.

I came all those years ago to help you remember.

Remember now.

So it is. And so it shall be. Worlds without end.

Life everlasting.

It is done.
*  *  *

(full text can be found at


About six years ago I wrote a new version of the life of Yeshua ben Joseph (Jesus), called “Son.” I get many questions asking, “Is it channeled?” and the answer is: why does it matter?

What is channelling ultimately but connecting with a higher aspect of ourselves and aren’t Yeshua, Buddha and all others also aspects of our higher selves?

Did Yeshua speak to me? Yes. Is the material also drawn from other sources and ‘my Self’? Yes. Are they one in the same? Yes.

The spiritual world, just like the material world, is so enamored of celebrity in all forms, metaphysical name-dropping.

The question Yesuha would ask — because it is the question he did ask 2,000 years ago — is why does it matter? It is the message that is important, not the messenger.

Do we connect with a message, but then give it less power because it doesn’t have an autograph at the end? I know that FB messages are as important as Yeshua’s, as The Creator’s, because they are one in the same.

A challenge of this new age, this new maturity, is for us to move beyond the celebrity aspect of spirituality — that you have to have sold 100,000 books, or charge $2500.00 for a seminar, or hang out with Wayne Dwyer, Deepak Chopra and Oprah — all powerful messengers —

But so is the homeless person on the beach.

As Yeshua — and I —  write: “Is this the truth? Yes. Is it your truth? Maybe, maybe not. Whatever helps you move through the murky waters towards love is your truth. And that is as it should be.”