Tales Of Rebellion

Revolution Of The Spirit

In the opening days of the London Occupation, in which thousands of people packed into the small square outside St Paul’s Cathedral, I attended a sermon by the Canon Giles Fraser and to my astonishment experienced the complete totality of the universe.

Though these words cannot hope to circumscribe the experience or indeed delineate it, I might hopefully convey the awe, perhaps even terror of being literally paralysed in the pews whilst I gazed fixedly at one spot high above that seemed to be the source of the emanation.

In a church, of all places.

This was by no means the first profound experience that had ever occurred in my life. In meditation up the peaks of Pyrenean Mountains I had fasted many days with no result. Finally a mist had descended, and blocking the distractive mountains from sight I’d experienced a pure white light bliss and the surrender of self, the loosening and loss of that self into the swirling oneness of the cosmos. For many years I can recall insights, epiphanies, and synchronistic series of events suggesting a benevolent force guiding and teaching.

But I am used to associating such insights with forests and mountains, rather than churches and mosques.  

Like many hiking on the spiritual path I have a deep distrust of organised religion with its dogmatic assertions of our Way, our God and our Truth. To me, nothing can be further from the spiritual outlook than to quibble endlessly about matters of doctrine, to pick and choose from the verses of ancient texts to prove that God’s opinions match your own. One might say that I am Gnostic in temperament.

I met a man once who had, since birth, suffered from a condition whereby his legs jutted away from his pelvis at the point where they joined, leading to difficulty in walking. Furthermore, he was just over half the normal height. He spoke in a manner both otherworldly and precise, a clarity, a detachment.

He was to give a brief lecture on the possibilities of astral projection from the dirt floor of the hut we inhabited at the time. After relating in simple terms the processes by which one leaves the body somebody asked him how he had come by this knowledge. It transpired that he had met a group who had taught him the basic knowledge of both lucid dreaming and astral projection but that he had left the group shortly after witnessing a ritual in which Satanic names were spoken. He strongly suspected that he had been lured into a cult, in which the members planned, after impressing him with the efficacy of legitimate techniques, to indoctrinate him with their ideology. Needless to say, he politely extricated himself from their company.  

A harrowing and bizarre tale. But the thing to be aware of is that according to the teller, the astral projection techniques did work; new abilities blossomed and he escaped the restraints of the physical form. Is this so very different from the practices of mainstream organised religions? Providing the technology of cavernous, echoing halls; communion; the knowledge of ancient manuscripts; bludgeoning the poor seeker over the head with dogmas and doctrines between the points where they peek behind the curtain and tear it off entirely. Not often by dint of purpose, I might add, but by the weary century on century accumulation of tradition and authority, that tired human insistence that everyone believes alike that we must someday soon, grow out of.

Why then did I enter in? What drew me that day across the vestibule, to sit in the sunlight of the nave? That same morning the Canon Giles Fraser had spoken out in our favour, I was curious about this man who had defied expectations by declaring his sympathy and granting us permission to stay. Perhaps he would have something interesting to say. Indeed, he gave a sermon that was supremely relevant to our cause, to the state of the world, which addressed the spiritual core of our current crises. The words interwove beautifully with my own convictions and those of my comrades on the steps.

The West has become a spiritual vacuum; the worship of material things is rife. We are not happy unless we have more, bigger and better than ever before. This frenzy has led us into profoundly unwise practices, and it is not just the financial elites taking ever more monstrous risks in the name of profit. It is our own consumption and our own greed, our own pursuit of status and short-term gratification. In valuing these things above all else we are the architects of our own misery. We have turned away from the spirit, we have turned away from nature and we have turned away from one another. All the while those who think themselves free are actually enslaved to the material goods they seek.

As the service drew to a close and the flock filed out, I stayed at the pew. An awareness of something much greater than me grew and grew, a feeling at first resisted and then surrendered to. My eyes eventually closed, my breathing became short and heavy. White light shone across my vision.

Then as if from a long distance away I heard a voice say:

“My friend, the service is over, its time to leave.”

Someone, a cleric probably, began to gently shake my shoulder. I couldn’t have answered or moved had I wanted to.
“He’s fast asleep.” said a cleric in disgust.
Now several arms began to shake me, a little less gentle this time, though I barely felt them.

Then I was hoisted roughly to my feet.

“Come on mate, time to move.”

I returned to earth and saw that policemen had grabbed me by either arm and were frogmarching me out of the Cathedral.

“You can stand there all night if you want.” They said and deposited me on the steps.

I stood in the cold of the entrance under the arches, immobile for some time.

After about five minutes I began to laugh, deep, incredible laughter.

It seemed so perfect a message, delivered humorously yet most profound: ‘yes I am here, as everywhere,’ it seemed to say ‘but don’t expect anyone to recognise it more here than anywhere else.’

Out on the steps I felt more at home amongst people often looking for their own spirituality, their own values, people with eyes wide open to the fact that the social order is standing between us and heaven.
For what is the revolutionary aim if not to make a heaven on earth? Inch by inch and step by step bringing humanity closer to that ideal state of existence.

The secret is of course that we are already there. If we could all just put down the gun for a moment or stop filling our stomachs long enough to feed someone else we would look around and find ourselves in paradise.  

The world revolution taking place at this moment goes beyond anger at corrupt governments and corporations. It is a call for a new society with new values based on love and compassion; it is a turning away from greed and ignorance. It is revolution, it is evolution, it is an awakening to the spirit.