─ Chapter Fourteen ─ Treasure

“Ever since I first stepped through the door behind me as Prime Minister, I have striven to make the UK a country that works not just for a privileged few but for everyone, and to honour the result of the EU referendum.”

     ‘Hannah, quick, its Theresa May – I think she’s resigning!’ shouted Akarsh. She was tending some herbs in the courtyard in their rented home in Damascas. At least it was cooler now at 8pm; the herbs needed her love and she gave it freely – sending energy to the young fresh shoots. She sat down and held Akarsh’s hand. He clicked the pause button to continue the PM’s speech.

     “Back in 2016 we gave the British people a choice. Against all predictions the British people voted to leave the EU. I feel as certain today as I did three years ago that in a democracy if you give people a choice you have a duty to implement what they decide. I have done my best to do that. I negotiated the terms of our exit and a new relationship with our closest neighbours that protects jobs, our security and our union. I have done everything I can to convince MPs to back that deal. Sadly I have not been able to do so. I tried three times.

     I believe it was right to persevere even when the odds against success seemed high. But it is now clear to me that it is in the best interests of the country for a new Prime Minister to lead that effort. So I am today announcing that I will resign as leader of the Conservative and Unionist Party on Friday, June 7, so that a successor can be chosen.

     I have agreed with the party chairman, and the chairman of the 1922 Committee, that the process for electing a new leader should begin in the following week.

     I have kept Her Majesty The Queen fully informed of my intentions and I will continue to serve as her Prime Minister until the process has concluded.

     It is and will always remain a matter of deep regret to me that I have not been able to deliver Brexit. It will be for my successor to seek a way forward that honours the result of the referendum. To succeed, he or she will have to find consensus in Parliament where I have not. Such a consensus can only be reached if those on all sides of the debate are willing to compromise.

     For many years, the great humanitarian Sir Nicholas Winton - who saved the lives of hundreds of children by arranging their evacuation from Nazi-occupied Czechoslovakia through Kindertransport - was my constituent in Maidenhead. At another time of political controversy, a few years before his death, he took me to one side at a local event and gave me a piece of advice. He said: 'Never forget that compromise is not a dirty word. Life depends on compromise.' He was right.

     As we strive to find the compromises we need in our politics, whether to deliver Brexit or restore devolved government in Northern Ireland, we must remember what brought us here. Because the referendum was not just a call to leave the EU, but for profound change in our country, a call to make the UK a country that truly works for everyone. I am proud of the progress we have made over the last three years.

     We have completed the work that David Cameron and George Osborne started. The deficit is almost eliminated, our national debt is falling and we are bringing an end to austerity. My focus has been on ensuring that the good jobs of the future will be created in communities across the whole country - not just in London and the south-east - through our modern industrial strategy. (That is a complete joke thought Hannah) We have helped more people than ever enjoy the security of a job. We are building more homes and helping first-time buyers onto the housing ladder so that young people can enjoy the opportunities their parent did.

     And we are protecting the environment: eliminating plastic waste, tackling climate change and improving air quality. This is what a decent, moderate and patriotic Conservative government, on the common ground of British politics, can achieve - even as we tackle the biggest peacetime challenge of any government has faced.         I know that the Conservative Party can renew itself in the years ahead. That we can deliver Brexit and serve the British people with policies inspired by our values. Security, freedom and opportunity: those values have guided me throughout my career.

     But the unique privilege of this office is to use this platform to give a voice to the voiceless. To fight the burning injustices that still scar our society. That is why I put proper funding for mental health at the heart of our NHS long-term plan, it's why I'm ending the postcode lottery for survivors of domestic abuse. It is why the race disparity audit and gender pay reporting are shining a light on inequality so it has nowhere to hide.

     ‘Really?!’ interjected Akarsh, ‘she is talking out of her...’

     ‘... let’s listen to whatever else she has to say.’

     And it is why I set up the independent public inquiry into the tragedy at Grenfell Tower, to search for the truth so nothing like it can ever happen again, and so the people who lost their lives that night are never forgotten.

     Because this country is a union, not just a family of four nations. But a union of people. All of us. Whatever our background, the colour of our skin or who we love, we stand together. And together, we have a great future.

     Our politics may be under strain, but there is so much that is good about this country. So much to be proud of. So much to be optimistic about. I will shortly leave the job that has been the honour of my life to hold. The second female Prime Minister, but certainly not the last. I do so with no ill will, but with enormous and enduring gratitude to have had the opportunity to serve the country I love. [she walked back into No 10 in tears]”

     A tear ran down Hannah’s cheek and Akarsh caught it in the palm of his hand.

     ‘I will treasure this always my love.’

     Hannah smiled.

     ‘Look at me, crying over Theresa May. I’m not a fan of the phrase “I feel sorry for...” but I do feel sorry for her. I believe her intentions were noble, she was handed a poison chalice. She is only human after all and getting choked up like that is an expression of what she really feels inside.’

     ‘Hannah, you do remember that when she was Home Secretary she announced that “clamping down on illegal immigrants” legislation that culminated in the Windrush Scandal don’t you? Amber Rudd had to fall on May’s knife as a consequence.’

     ‘That is a most hurtful stain on the UK’s reputation isn’t it and the fact that Churchill was constantly pushing the Cabinet towards prejudicial rules against black people is even more shocking, considering how he galvanised the country to victory in World War Two.’

     Akarsh turned off his Surface Pro, took Hannah’s hand and they strolled out into the evening air.

     ‘I love this time of the evening,’ said Hannah.

     ‘Me too, are you cooking tonight?’

     ‘It’s nearly ready, tabbouleh, falafel, hummus – all fresh, made with my own fair, tear-stained hand. I just need a few minutes to heat the falafel.’

     Hannah sat in her favourite chair and allowed her mind to fly over the past 15 years – her reconciliation with her father, her parents reconfirming their vows service and, sadly, her friends and other people who had died in Syria and the surrounding countries. It was the children that caused her the most pain. Limbs torn away and yet they still smiled and played despite their debilitating injuries. She wondered what scars lay under the surface and what would happen to those scars as they grew into adulthood. She knew only too well what had happened to several close friends of hers – their lives had all taken very different courses. One to end his own life, yet he is now a frequent visitor to her soul group.

*

Val and Patrick walked down a narrow alley and came out into a street that looked familiar.

     ‘Have we been down here already?’

     ‘It looks familiar but I’m not sure,’ replied Patrick.

     ‘Look, there’s the two towers!’

     ‘We’re not far off then. Let’s try and keep them in sight.’

     ‘That’s not easy to do with all these tall houses and alleys.’

     ‘We’ll be on time Val, trust me.’

     Val gave Patrick a look and the two of them became quiet for a while as they meandered towards Chartres Cathedral. Eventually they emerged from the residential web and walked through the gate.

     ‘Did you feel that?’ asked Patrick.

     ‘You mean like someone’s robe had brushed your arm?’

     ‘Exactly.’

     ‘Yes, I expect it’s Theresa.

     ‘Hello you two.’

     Theresa de Avila’s voice was unmistakeable.

     ‘We can feel and hear you but we can’t see you,’ responded Patrick.

     ‘That’s because I choose not to be seen, it is necessary, trust me.’

     Val and Patrick entered the cathedral. The view inside is always slightly different depending on the weather and time of day. It was early evening and the sun was casting long shadows through the stained glass windows. The labyrinth was covered with chairs, as it often is and a practising organist was struggling with an exceptionally difficult piece of Bach. They made their way downstairs to one of the many meeting rooms and entered the one that had been booked.

     A circle of 12 chairs had been laid out. Despite the fact they were below ground level the room felt a comfortable temperature, smelt fresh and was well ventilated. The lighting was perfect. Theresa was now visible. She wore a light green robe with no guimpe, coif, bandeau or veil. Val lit the two candles and the three of them sat in silence. Theresa had long brown hair and this swept down on her relaxed shoulders.

     ‘You look surprised?’

     ‘No kidding Theresa, we have never seen your hair before or this beautiful robe – is it silk?’

     ‘Yes, it was spun by magical worms from another world.’

     ‘How extraordinarily beautiful,’ exclaimed Patrick, ‘you are a woman full of grace and truth. When I first saw you in Japan I just knew we would be friends and that, somehow, our soul groups would intertwine.’

     ‘That is why we are here,’ said Theresa.

     Brother Lawrence was now sat opposite them. He no longer had a beard, seemed twenty years younger – ruggedly handsome - dressed in the clothes of a strict orthodox Jew as though he had just walked in from Mea She’arim district in Jerusalem! Eleanor was next to arrive in a light grey trousered suit with an orange orchid in her lapel. She sat nest to Lawrence and tapped him gently on the shoulder in greeting.

     ‘Shalom my friend!

     ‘Shalom Eleanor.’

     There was a gentle knock on the door.

     ‘Please enter,’ said Patrick.

     Táhirih came into the room. She was dressed in rags, though on closer inspection they were the remnants of what could have been a beautifully embroidered Persian tunic. Her feet were bare and clean. She appeared poor and royal. She was not a tall woman but held herself in such a way that created a higher stature.

     ‘Peace be with you all,’ she said in a tone of voice that could melt the hardest of hearts.

     ‘This is Táhirih,’ said Theresa, ‘a member of our soul group.’

     ‘You are most welcome,’ responded Patrick, ‘I have read much about you and it gives me great joy to meet with you in this way.’

     ‘And I,’ she gestured in appreciation.

     ‘I sense everyone is here who is meant to be here,’ declared Patrick.

     Everyone nodded. Meetings like this were becoming more frequent across planet Earth and other worlds. A profound sense of meaning pervaded yet not one of them knew what the purpose of gathering together would be until everyone was present. The fact that someone looked older or younger or wearing different clothing was normal and most felt it was an expression of the Divine’s sense of humour. Sometimes there was a reason for it and sometimes not.

     ‘The six empty chairs will be sat on another time,’ said Eleanor.

     ‘Yes, I sense they will too,’ responded Táhirih.

     The group sat in silence, not with heads bowed but with frequent eye contact with each other. It was a natural silence, filled with the Spirit of Divine Love.

     Brother Lawrence asked a question that was also beginning to form in the minds of three others present.

     ‘Are there six others present with us that we can’t see or sense?’

     ‘That is something I have been pondering too,’ said Val.

     Eleanor spoke, ‘Considering limitless potentiality there could be thousands of souls in this room at this moment but, in response to the question, I think it is just us. There is, however, a message for us from the six empty chairs but, for now, they are just that, six empty chairs. There is no soul seeking to manifest from any of them.’

     I can feel a message emanating from them,’ said Táhirih, ‘I see wisps of dry ice rising from the seats and moving together towards the centre of our circle where they merge into a plume that rises to the roof and then splits, descending and bathing each one of us.

     ‘I feel it,’ said Lawrence, ‘It’s a greeting from a group from another world. The message is one word “Soon”. I love the fact that we use many words that we used in our time-bound world like “soon”, “later”, “before” and “after” and here is a message from another world, intersecting with our world in time. Yet three of us are not from your time. Yet we are all timeless. We are form and we are not. This is the purpose of our meeting – to embrace time as though it does not exist.’

     ‘The students at Castlethorpe have been grappling with this conundrum for millennia as have philosophers, alchemists, prophets, priests, scientists and artisans. The fact that I said millennia is one such manifestation of the truth and falsehood of time.’

     The group fell silent for twenty five minutes of the stuff we know as time.

     Lawrence extended his arms with upturned palms and said in a quiet commanding voice ‘I am who I am, Ego sum alpha et omega, principium et finis, dicit Dominus Deus: qui est, et qui erat, et qui venturus est, omnipotens, I am the Alpha and the Omega. We are Divine. The Divine dwells in our form. When the form dies and disappears it can reappear in any time and place. This is what we three do. It is what you will do. The Soul Groups are in and out of time. Physics can’t explain it. Astrophysics can’t explain it. All the modern disciplines can’t explain it. It is unexplainable. Stories and myths can throw light on it. The Greeks got close. Poets, artists and philosophers also get close. Jesus embodied time and no time. “It is finished” implied time but that was just for the onlookers to hear in the proximity of the cross. Theologians can get close though are generally obsessed with their myopic and parochial view of the matter. Love knows no time. Love is time and it is not time. Birth and death of form is a fact. You breath in time. You exhale time. Behold I tell you a mystery. The esoteric threads of all religions get close but not close enough. The alchemists got really close. Does time matter to you? Does time matter to us? Does time matter to Divine? Time is not a Divine construct. It is a construct of form, of the mind. You will age, maybe, and die. That is the inevitability of your form. Not all forms are the same. The six empty chairs have declared this to be true.’

     The time of about fifteen minutes elapsed and then Theresa, Lawrence and Táhirih disappeared in a split second in front of Eleanor, Val and Patrick’s eyes.

     Theresa’s voice descended on them with her parting words, ‘there is no time or form in the Interior Castle’s Seventh mansion. May the Divine radiate through your form.’

*

     John the Baptist was one biblical character that had always captured Callum’s imagination. Callum was also a fan of the Harry Potter films and said to Folina one day that Professor Rubeus Hagrid (a half-giant wizard, son of Mr Hagrid and the giantess Fridwulfa, and elder half-brother of the giant Grawp) reminded him of John the Baptist, a giant of a man who gives hope to Israel by announcing the arrival of the Messiah. Born to aging parents, desperate for a child, he grew to lead a very austere and secluded life which he left behind to preach a baptism of repentance. He recognised Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah and the Bible includes one of his most famous and misunderstood sayings, comparing himself to Jesus. He said “He must become greater; I must become less.” There are many interpretations of this and Callum had studied them all in detail. He concluded that what John the Baptist was really saying was not that he should diminish but he should become more human, more like the God in man that Jesus Christ was. This struck a chord in Callum and soon Folina started her own research journey into what women mystics had said on the subject. It was a tough search and she got a little disheartened in the early internet stages. One internet article, however, did catch her eye by Jon Bloom:

“John’s disciples had understood his mission. He had come to prepare the way for the Hope of Israel. It had been thrilling. The long-expected time was so close — that climactic day when Jesus appeared and John publicly proclaimed him the Messiah. The wonder could yield no words. But they hadn’t expected to feel marginalized by it.

    The past year had been a heady one. John had blazed across Judea like a shooting star, the first real prophet in Israel for four centuries. All eyes had been on him from king to peasant. And he called them all to account, including the self-righteous Pharisees. When John spoke God moved and people repented and were baptized. No one had spoken like this man. From all over Palestine people had flocked to hear him. The oppressed, weary people of God, living under Tiberius’s thumb and Antipas’s corruption, had hope again. These disciples had seen revival. And they had been in the middle of it.

    Then abruptly they weren’t. The surge had moved past them toward Jesus. Of course, it was wrong to be envious of the Messiah. But still, how could their beloved rabbi — and they with him — suddenly be relegated to the periphery after all that God had done through them?

    They couldn’t help but express their perplexity to him: “Rabbi, he who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you bore witness — look, he is baptizing, and all are going to him.” John, who had been staring at the water, turned his intense eyes to them. They were filled with joy. He said nothing for a moment. He felt compassion for them. He understood. He knew their inner conflict. He knew their sincere godly ambition for the kingdom. And he knew their selfish ambition to have prominent roles in it. He knew how the latter insidiously wove itself into the fabric of the former and how difficult it could be to discern one from the other. This was a moment of sifting for them, of heart-exposure.

    He had spent a lifetime being prepared for his brief ministry of introduction. Those years in the wilderness God had worked him over, ruthlessly laying bare his deeply entrenched and multifaceted pride and training him to die to it. This discipline had brought about the peaceful fruit of the righteousness of faith. He had learned to anticipate his Replacement more than his own prophesied prophetic role. He had learned to love the Bridegroom’s appearing and not love the celebrity of being the Bridegroom’s best man. But that had not come easily.

    Learning to love the Great Wedding more than their part in it would not come easily to them either. He knew they loved the Bridegroom. But they were just learning that when the blessed Lord grants one a role to play, one must perform it faithfully, but never grasp it. For the Lord also takes away. The role is not the reward. The Lord is the Reward.

    With affectionate empathy John replied, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven.” He waved them to sit down beside him. “You yourselves bear me witness that I said, ‘I am not the Christ,’ but have been sent before him. The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom's voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. He must increase, but I must decrease.”

     Folina pondered these things in her heart. She looked over at Callum who was out on the balcony soaking in the skyline of Florence. Their meeting with the Archbishop was in two hours. She strolled out onto the balcony, slid her hands under Callum’s tee shirt and hugged him from behind resting her head between his shoulders.

     ‘We better get ready to meet the man in purple eh?’, she said in a laid back way.

*

     Wimbledon fortnight is a treat for tennis fans throughout the world. The best and brightest emerging stars entertain and thrill audiences. Strawberries and Pimm’s are the order of the day – whatever the weather. Getting a ticket for a centre court final is almost impossible unless you are minted, well-connected or, as in Sarah’s case, the lucky winner of a prize draw. She entered it on a whim, sitting in the waiting room for a dental appointment – browsing a glossy magazine that was on the table. She got a call a few weeks later. The person giving her the news was slightly taken back when she explained she was a wheelchair user but quickly recovered saying “No problem, you will have a dedicated court-side seat”.

     There she was, calm, cool and collected and enjoying the occasion as the two finalists emerged from the hallowed corridors of the All England Club. Simona Halep and Serena Williams. Sarah had met with Serena on several occasions and they had become friends. Sarah’s competitive archery experience stirred within her some unwanted feelings about the desire to win and while the players warmed up she centred herself and Spirit reminded her about the true “game” of life that she was in. She took out a small notebook and jotted down some notes about a Principal’s Talk she would give the following Thursday. Twenty six minutes later Serena was one set down. The buzz reverberating around the centre court was electric. Serena looked shocked and downcast. Within a further thirty minutes Simona had beaten Serena 6-2, 6-2. Sarah’s friend had lost and was very gracious when interviewed on court about Simona. Romania had its first Wimbledon women’s singles champion.

     Sarah had a brief chat with Serena after the match, away from all the press and TV cameras. She had learned a spiritual lesson on centre court that would become more important to her than winning. We may or may not find out what that was.

*

     Castlethorpe’s Place of Gathering was packed for the Principal’s Talk. Sarah looked around and smiled at everyone. This was not Wimbledon’s centre court. It was not a place of competition. It did not radiate with the intense expectations of Wimbledon. The atmosphere was deeply calm and relaxed.

     Jorge pressed a button and the computerised atmospheric programme kicked into gear, adjusting the lighting, altering the blinds just enough to prevent sunlight on peoples’ faces, the temperature - just right, a touch cooler to compensate for the build-up of body heat. The lectern had been adapted by a specialist disability engineer to allow Sarah, with assistance, to stand with the aid of beautifully made wooden supports and discreet straps. Sarah nodded to Jorge as she wheeled herself forward. Jorge lifted and assisted Sarah into position and secured the straps, checking with her that she was comfortable. This was the first time Sarah had stood before a Castlethorpe gathering.

     She surveyed the people sat before her with a loving, accepting and welcoming smile. She knew Divine would touch people today.

     ‘I stand before you dear friends...’

     She could not get another word out; everyone was on their feet, clapping, cheering and crying.

     ‘Hey, it’s not a miracle yet, just a fancy bit of engineering by one of Jorge’s mates. But I do get it, I get it. Thank you. Please be seated. (pause)

     Yes, I do stand before you and it feels great. The blood is pumping in my legs in a way I have not experienced for a while.

     I have done many Principal’s Talks at Castlethorpe. I have never used notes. I have never read a speech. People usually contribute at any point. Today is different. I am going to read a speech. I ask that there are no contributions as I read and when I have finished we will have tea and cake as usual. In a week’s time we will come together again to reflect together on what I am about to say so you can share your reflections and what Spirit shows you between now and then. This is the way I have been shown to do this.’

     An atmosphere of silent unilateral acceptance and expectation pervaded.

     ‘I would like to talk to you today about treasure. Consider these Biblical sayings:

“Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal.”, “Having been knit together in love, and attaining to all the wealth that comes from the full assurance of understanding, resulting in a true knowledge of God's mystery, that is, Christ Himself, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.”, “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking fine pearls, and upon finding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it.” And finally, “We have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves”.

     By taking on this human form, this jar of clay we only have one real task on planet Earth – we need to break so that the treasure within us, our true nature, our Divinity will shine forth into the world with such love, such power that people will realise they too have this  Treasure within them, their true heritage.

     This form, this flesh, this body, this mind, this ego, gets in the way often and prevents the Divine fragrance of Buddha, Christ, Divine, Beloved from permeating the world. I love the Gospel of Mark for its amazing detail and can tell you, from personal experience, that his account is true. I was there.

     Do you remember the story in mark?

“While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard. She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head. Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, "Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year's wages and the money given to the poor." And they rebuked her harshly. "Leave her alone," said Jesus. "Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

     A few weeks ago I was reflecting on this passage when suddenly I was transported to Bethany and witnessed this incident with my own eyes. It was dusty and hot. People were muttering about why Jesus was spending time with tax collectors, prostitutes and sinners of all sorts. They thrived on gossip and rumour and the better the story the more they believed what they heard was true. I saw a woman enter, she looked nervous, clutching an alabaster jar to her chest. She looked around and then saw Jesus, kneeling and stroking the head of an old woman he had just healed of leprosy. That miracle caused a stir in itself. Jesus kissed the woman on the top of her head, stood up and turned around.

     His eyes lit up as the woman approached him. She took the alabaster jar and smashed the top off on the edge of a table. Jesus smiled and bowed his head towards her in expectation of the anointing. She poured all of the nard oil onto his head and then took a pace back. Jesus stood upright and then held out his hands towards her. She placed the broken jar on the table and reached out to him. Their fingers intertwined. Several of his disciples complained bitterly about what they termed “such an extravagant waste of expensive perfume” but Jesus knew their true intentions. “Leave her alone!” he said. We read the words but being there was something else. Jesus spoke with his eyes and even though his word of rebuke were stern his eyes were full of love and power. His face was turned to them like a loving parent to misbehaving children. For that is what they were. They had much to learn. Their understanding was limited, as is the case of so many of us today.

     She did a beautiful thing that day. I watched as the oil dribbled down his face and dropped from his chin down his clothes onto his feet. The fragrance filled the room and was overpowering. I was overwhelmed. No-one noticed me though a young boy looked at me quizzically for a few seconds then returned to playing with his friend  in the corner of the room.

     Back in my room at Castlethorpe I thought more and more about Mark’s passage. I could never have grasped the true meaning of it by simply reading it. I had to experience it. The truth is we can all experience it – without being there. Our body is the jar. The Divine is the nard oil - a perfume of purity. We have this treasure inside of us, in jars of clay; the fragrance seeps out occasionally, it may even be absorbed by our “clay”, our flesh. But to really know this treasure we have to be broken. This is the best form of annihilation, according to our Sufi friends.

     Now that is wonderful in itself but now we get to the crux of the matter. Miracles will happen to you, you will experience ecstasy, you will witness things that no-one has seen or felt before, you will unearth hidden secrets in ancient writings, you will understand the meaning of so many things that many have searched in vain for, divine revelation will be a common experience for you. Many of you know for sure that this is true. Castlethorpe is playing a part in the unveiling of soul groups across the planet and these are now beginning to communicate with soul groups with beings across the universe. Some of you are communicating telepathically with each other. Of all these things and more I have absolutely no doubt. You will do greater and greater things than even these.

     Some of you will think you are going crazy – you’re not. In Sufi tradition people had a teacher to help them cope with the extraordinary power of Kundalini energy. The teacher helps pupils to stay sane and centred and not to be overcome. It is hard to describe what can happen to a person who is overcome by this energy. You will know when you experience it, as some of you have. There are people here who can help you. Reach out to them.

     I do not like to give the ego too much credit or give it a personality. The ego is totally consistent in its objectives. It desires only one thing - that you identify with your mind. Everything else is ancillary. Once it achieves this the alabaster jar remains intact. There is no fragrance. There is no truly wonderful brokenness.

     How does this play out? You have an amazing spiritual experience or are given insight into an ancient truth hidden from everyone else in the world – or so you think. This is fertile ground for some ego seed. You say “Yes, I’m an expert now.” You write a thesis. It gets published and fascinates many enquiring souls in search of another spiritual revelation. You get asked to write a book. It sells like hot cakes with two more reprints in its first year. You get money. Ego does not have to try too hard. You get more money. Ego backs off and just monitors your retreat from the Source of your Life!

     It is so easy to get attached to knowledge, people, spiritual truth, spiritual experiences, conversations with angels and other beings. This attachment becomes the vehicle of the ego to gradually convince you that you’re extra special. You are the chosen one to bring this truth to humanity. This may be true; believe me I have seen this happen. I do not doubt any of the knowledge or experiences. What I’m concerned about is what all this does to you as a person and your relationship with the Divine.

     Eckhart Tolle has come at this from a different perspective and uses different words but it is the same thing. Being in the now, living in the present does not require effort once a person understands the techniques the ego uses to seduce you into thinking – into becoming your mind – over identifying with your mind. You are not your mind. It is thought that nurtures the seeds of identification and attachment. True consciousness is I AM. It makes no difference what you know, what you have experienced, what you have written. What matters is how much of God radiates through your form. Love is the fragrance that overwhelms and connects you in Spirit with your true Divine nature. Allow yourself, the alabaster jar, to be broken and the consciousness, the God, the Divine to emanate from you into the world.

     There are two books written by C S Lewis that I would recommend Letters to Screwtape, a  profound and striking narrative takes the form of a series of letters from Screwtape, a devil high in the Infernal Civil Service, to his nephew Wormwood, a junior colleague engaged in his first mission on earth trying to secure the damnation of a young man who has just become a Christian. Screwtape Proposes a Toast sees the return of the notorious Screwtape, addressing a dinner at the Tempters' Training College for young devils. It is humorous and instructive. Many of you have done the course called The Devil is in the Ego and will definitely appreciate these volumes. There are, of course, several copies in the library. They reveal archetypes of things that can entrap you on your journey while  in this form.

     Yes, this speech contains a warning. We must be vigilant and wary. We must test everything yet be totally openminded about things we do not understand or may be prejudiced about. Val has done a huge amount of work about wisdom and discernment and I offer this speech as a bolt on, a PS, if you like, to her work. Like John the Baptist said “He must increase, but I must decrease.”

         Examine everything I have said in your heart and next week we shall explore the impact of all this for our continuing spiritual journey. That is all I have to say apart from, whatever you do, don’t miss the unveiling of the new Labyrinth at 10.30pm tonight.