A Message from “The Family”: On Those Who Have Gone Before

Jeffrey Robert Lee (L); Rand Benjamin Lee (R)

Jeffrey Robert Lee (L); Rand Benjamin Lee (R)

On those who have gone before there is much to say and little: much, because, from our viewpoint in the plane of light and sound, the joyous celebration of complexity and union that is physical and nonphysical reality proliferates endlessly in a dance rich with meaning and worthiness; little, because all this, at core, is known to all and each of you and us both. For this is the way of things.

Mister Rand grieves for those who have left the body before him. Grief is a hard, cold thing, or can be, when it sits in the throat like a stone unexpelled. Or it can be a hot rushing thing when first felt in its entirety of passion, welling up and spilling over in a hot rush of tears and wailing. Your society permits little of this grief-show, and that is a limitation of your society; public demonstrations of grief serve a grieving one and the society both, as demonstrations of how personal loss is also public loss: the loss of a brother, sister, father, mother, wife, husband, child, animal friend marking both a personal intimate change and a change in the composition of the group.

When what is felt by each is felt by all, grief is easier to bear. But in your culture, grief is hidden or expected to be quickly moved on.

Nevertheless, the grief that Mister Rand feels, say, over the unbodiment of his friend and once-brother Jeffrey Robert, is largely a grief of the body. When two beings have been raised together in close proximity, chemistries mesh; body patterns mirror one another, smells converge, chemistries ape one another, rhythms of sleep and wakefulness converge. Bodies harmonize within close proximity, and when one of two die, the body that remains is torn loose from its patterns and cast adrift, whether the loss has been of spouse or sibling or child or pet: bodies communicate with one another, and grieve for one another. So much of the grief felt by one who has lost a beloved is grief of the body.

And there is grief of the heart. “I only have escaped alone to tell thee,” says the comforter in the Book of Iyyob. Aloneness is the shadow of oneness and its pain is keen. The Divine is One but It is never alone. In truth, neither are you truly alone, and Mister Rand, his perceptions having been keened by his psychic practice, is aware of the presence of his friend whom he knew as his brother Jeffrey, and so is somewhat comforted, when his intellect does not prevent him from accepting and acknowledging that comfort. For the intellect, whose job it is to enable beings to create and thrive in physical reality, has only limited ability to make sense of the vast light reaches.

What is Heaven like? you ask. Heaven, we say, is noisy, joyous, full of argument and banter and explosions of love. Heaven is a carnival, though not a carnivale. Heaven is a peaceful glade with a stream running through it, and rabbit-birds giggling just out of sight. Heaven is your best friend.

— Channeled 19 October 2013, Santa Fe, New Mexico.

The Legend of the Christmas Rat

Image courtesy Wikimedia Comoons

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The story goes that when Mary and Joseph were waiting in the stable for the baby Jesus to be born, they realized that they had run out of food. “Mary will be hungry after the baby is born,” thought Joseph. “But where will I find food at this hour? All the inns are full.” The cows in the stable were concerned for the Holy Family, but all they had to offer the Virgin Mother was straw. “And I do not think that humans eat straw,” said the head cow.

In a chink in the stable wall lived a family of rats. All the other animals despised them as vermin, and so did the humans of Bethlehem. But the head rat, observing the plight of the Holy Family, said to her family, “We must help these folk, for the One Who is coming into the world this night brings the love of God to all creatures, even the most lowly.” So she had the other rats burrow down to their underground storehouse, where they had grain hidden; and as quietly as possible they brought the grain up into the stable, where they piled it not far from the pallet of straw upon which Mary was lying.

When Joseph saw the rats, he brandished his staff and began to chase them away. But the Virgin said, “No, husband; stay your hand; for surely these beasts would not act in this way were the Holy One’s hand not upon them.” And so Joseph relented, and the rats continued to pile grain before the Holy Couple, until there was enough for a meal.

Joseph took the grain, and put it into a pot with water, and boiled it for porridge; and doing so, blessed the rats for their lovingkindness. “For there are none so lowly,” he declared, “that the Spirit of God does not dwell within their hearts.”