Conversations with a Soul (37 page)

Another example of transcendent wonder is described by the prophet Isaiah:

In the year of King Uzziah’s death I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, lofty and exalted, with the train of His robe filling the temple.
Seraphim stood above Him, each having six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew.
And one called out to another and said, 'Holy, Holy, Holy, is the L
ORD
of hosts, the whole earth is full of His glory.'

And the foundations of the thresholds trembled at the voice of him who called out, while the temple was filling with smoke.
 
Then I said, 'Woe is me, for I am ruined! Because I am a man of unclean lips, And I live among a people of unclean lips;  For my eyes have seen the King, the L
ORD
of hosts.'

Then one of the seraphim flew to me with a burning coal in his hand, which he had taken from the altar with tongs.
 
He touched my mouth
with it
and said, 'Behold, this has touched your lips; and your iniquity is taken away and your sin is forgiven.'

Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, 'Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?' Then I said, 'Here am I. Send me!'
^'
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Apparently it was during the funeral service for King Uzziah that Isaiah had this vision and saw beyond the furnishings of the temple and the pomp of the ceremony through to a reality that changed his life. Totally absorbed in the awesome moment, he was consumed by an experience of the presence of God.

The traditional concept of emptying the mind, so central to Eastern philosophers, particularly Zen Buddhists, is simply to have our dominant ego silenced so as to make possible an experience of enlightment.

We might be helped to grasp this by reflecting on the pejorative term 'egotistical'. Someone who is described as egotistical is someone obsessed by their ego and cannot look at anything, engage in any conversation, read a book or listen to an opinion without protecting their precious ego. Every day they wage war against anything that threatens or
even seems
to threaten their fragile ego. Consequently, they are condemned to wander about in a dark world denied the wonder of new light breaking in and new truths inviting a journey. Everything and everyone is viewed from the perspective of their (insatiable) ego needs.

To a lesser or greater degree this affliction affects all of us. Simply because our ego gets in the way of our seeing, we fail to be claimed by visions of greater realities. Wonder is filtered out by familiarity, by fear, and even by a sense of inferiority; consequently we are faced with the difficult task of learning to see without the distortion created by our ego’s interference.

Journeys into transcendence are not mastered overnight. The first steps are small steps. Learning to simply
be
without judgment, criticism, plans, questions or ideas takes time and a great deal of practice. Taking the time to pause in our daily routine and consciously
be
present
to the moment; refusing to be trapped by the need to think and, instead,
surrendering ourselves to being
; setting our 'I'      free to roam where it will is all part of the discipline. I believe we have started to work on a new syntax when we allow the ones we mourn to engage us in dialogue, without the dialogue becoming condemnatory or judgmental. Then, when we have truly learned to be in the present, instead of a tiny lamp fixture we see our Souls, and we see the world as the dying describe it.

I am not I.

I am this one

Walking beside me whom I do not see,

Whom at times I manage to visit,

And at other times I forget.

The one who remains silent when I talk,

The one who forgives, sweet, when I hate,

The one who takes a walk when I am indoors,

The one who will remain standing when I die
.
¹⁰⁴

We enter an entirely different world from the gentle, homespun wisdom offered by Siduri when we turn to the next historical era that has left its imprint upon our ideas of death – ancient Egypt.

Perhaps, because our knowledge of ancient Egypt has so frequently been formed by stories and artefacts rooted in the paraphernalia of death (the mysterious pyramids, burial chambers, mystical inscriptions, embalming and sarcophagi,) we have come away with the idea that the ancient Egyptians were obsessed by death – in fact they were obsessed by life! Beyond the terror of judgment lay a land of beauty and wonder, which in many ways, was a reflection of life on Earth. In this land it was possible to be reunited with deceased family members, a hope captured in an ancient poem:

Death is to me today

like a sick man’s recovery,

like going out after confinement.

Death is to me today

like the smell of myrrh,

like sitting under a sail on a windy day.

Death is to me today

like the smell of flowers,

like sitting on the shore of Drunkenness.

Death is to me today

like a well-trodden path,

like a man’s coming home from an expedition.

Death is to me today

like the sky’s clearing,

like a man grasping what he did not know before.

Death is to me today

like a man’s longing to see home,

having spent many years in captivity.
¹⁰⁵

Amen lived during the years that followed the reign of Unas, one of the last of the fifth dynasty pharaohs. His position in Pharaoh’s court evidenced that  'The land of timelessness and permanence' had entered an era of social unrest and massive change. Assumptions which had guided and moulded the life of Egypt for nearly a thousand years were being questioned, not least the exclusive entitlements that the pharaoh enjoyed. In response to popular demands the priests had already started to revise the doctrines of the afterlife.

Everyone knew and accepted that the pharaohs were superior to other mortals for each was an incarnation of Horus, the sun god, and ruled the land as Horus’ regent. Responsible for maintaining order in legal, military and religious matters, the pharaohs enjoyed unquestioned authority, holding the life of every man and woman in his hands.

Unfortunately for Unas, and those who followed him, powerful changes were eroding their authority. Repeated periods of drought and crop failure forced the Pharaohs to negotiate complex economic arrangements with foreign suppliers of grain, an arrangement which slowly drained Egypt’s wealth.

Responsibility for managing these trade agreements was delegated to a body of lay administrators who enjoyed a measure of power unheard of in previous generations and which lay the foundations for change.

Amen and his companions began to ask questions.

Far worse than the economic consequence of having to import food, was the question of ‘why weather patterns had changed and crops had failed? Was it not in the power of the divine rulers of Egypt to control such matters?’

Such questions went to the very heart of the pharaoh’s authority.

A succession of inept pharaohs only made matters worse, particularly when Egypt faced repeated assaults from marauding nomadic neighbours that called for further concessions and treaties.

Into the leadership vacuum stepped yet more lay administrators, and a growing number of priests. With class and power came wealth, with wealth came desire, and with desire came a reaching for status, privilege and a hunger to share what had previously been the sole right of the Pharaohs, particularly his promised immortality.

So, ran popular opinion:  'We’ve seen the Pharaohs make some foolish decisions, despite their ‘diving origins’. If he really has the divinely appointed control of the land, why have we had severe droughts? Why have the crops failed? If Horus and Ra are really the pharaoh’s sponsors, why are we losing control of our borders?'

Amen, acutely conscious that his name was derived from Ra, the personification of the power of the universe and god of a united Egypt, decided to have a conversation with the priest Imhotep.

Amen came away from his conversation having confirmed that a radical reformation was indeed underway. He was living at a moment in time when many of the old restrictions were being swept aside including those which pertained to life beyond the grave. He knew he needed help to navigate the terrifying territory that lay beyond death. Imhotep assured him that when the time came he would be guided through the dangerous labyrinth and lest he forget the magic spells, that were all important to his journey, a copy of instructions would be painted inside his sarcophagus.

Prior to the fifth dynasty it was only the pharaohs, who were assumed to survive death and they didn’t need much help, being entitled to an afterlife, anyway; although it would appear that servants of the pharaohs sometimes committed suicide so as to be laid to rest with their master and, hopefully, enjoy the afterlife with him. By the end of the fifth dynasty lesser dignitaries arranged for funeral rites formally reserved only for the pharaohs and the right to an afterlife was within reach of anyone. Soon after that doctrines of the afterlife were rewritten to accommodate everyone. Democratization of the work place had led to democratization of the afterlife!

Amen came away from his conversation with his suspicions confirmed and hope in his heart.
¹⁰⁶

O my father, O my father in darkness! O my father Atum in darkness! Fetch me to your side, so that I may kindle a light for you and that I may protect you, even as Nu protected these four goddesses on the day when they protected the throne, namely Aset, Nebt-Het, Nit, and Serqet-hetu.