Journey through the beyond

It is revealed in higher knowledge spreading on earth today that life is not as mankind believe it is. There is a marked difference from what we think about life hereafter and the reality. There is a disturbing deviation from the truth of life that has been mediated and reinforced for thousands of years by the Teachers of mankind and the Prophets. From accounts of those who were pronounced clinically dead but in one way or the other were able to come back to life on the one hand, and those who stayed back on the other, drawn far in the Beyond but were able to transmit their experiences to the earth, it is feared that a majority of mankind are groping in the wilderness. Take for example an experience narrated in the book, “More about Life in the World Unseen”:

‘You’ve seen a little of this world, Roger, and one or two people in it. You’re young, and fresh from the earth. You can sure see that the spirit world is right and the earth world is wrong in so many things. You know, Roger, it’s not so very surprising that hundreds of people, when they arrive here and find the truth, go about like a “mighty wind”, and want to go back to earth to shout the truth at last to the folk they’ve left behind them. Some of them actually do go back, but the result is dismal—on both sides. Their voices cannot be heard—that is heard in the very place where they want them to be.’

The experiences depicted would seem to buttress what has been noted many times that only an insignificant few can be said to have been conscious of the revelation of higher knowledge that lays plain the truth of life and existence, thereby illumining the pathway to seeing life totally from a new and refreshing light. The wrappings around the revelation tear open only in consequence of an ardent longing and seeking: Who am I? Who is man? It is instructive that we have the following recorded in the book, ‘More about Life in the Spirit World’: The communicator from the spirit world identified as Monsignor Robert Hugh Benson, a deceased son a former Archbishop of Canterbury, states: “Our friend,” referring to Roger “seated himself in a comfortable chair, and looked considerably puzzled. “In their conversation, Monsignor said to Roger, “You are not the first to wonder that, Roger; millions do the same. Ruth and I did so. We were in no better case than yourself. What it comes to is this: when you are on earth, this whole spirit world is regarded as the “life after death”, the “next world”, and is treated solely from religious standpoint, except by a comparatively select few. I call them select few because those possess the truth.”

Death and the Beyond are subjects many people avoid contemplating or discussing, terrified by sheer thought of the inevitability of it, that it approaches for everyone inexorably, and one day one after the other we will take our exit from this earthly plane. What is expected of each human being, where does his path lead him after the sojourn on earth? There are a number of literatures dropping hints on transition from the earthly life. The depictions of experiences in the planes of the Beyond bring knowledge of structures in Creation and reconfirm same for those who already stand in the knowledge. Part of the depiction is the vibrational levels, low weighed down by dross arising from base thoughts and activities or high from nobleness in which each person swings in thoughts and volition, determines the level he finds himself. He sinks or soars swept aloft driven by the Law of Gravitation.

The deceased Italian, Franchezo to whom reference was made a fortnight ago, transmitted his experiences, most striking of which was his inability to detach from his decaying body and the fright it inflicted on him. This was even after all the dreadful attempts to make his wife feel his presence in the vicinity were to no avail.

He came to know about his silver cord connect his soul with decaying body that would not sever. He described it as a dark silk thread no thicker than a spider’s web, binding him to the body on earth. In his words, “I saw to my horror that this body had already begun to decay and become a loathsome thing to look upon. Its beauty was gone, its features none would recognize, and I stood there conscious, looking down upon it and then at myself. I felt each limb, traced out with my hands each familiar feature of my face, and knew I was dead, and yet I lived. If this were the death, then those priests must have been right after all. The dead lived—but where? In what state? Was this darkness hell?” The answer can be gleaned from an account narrated in the book, “More about Life in the World Unseen” which runs as follows:

“When I lived on earth, Roger, I was a successful businessman. Business was my preoccupation in life, for I thought of precious little else, and I considered all means right in my dealings with others, provided such means were strictly legal. As long as they were that, I deemed the rest did not matter, I was ruthless, therefore, in gaining my ends, and coupled with a high degree of efficiency, I achieved great commercial success. In my home, there was only one person to be thought of, and that was myself. The rest of the family did as they were told—and I did the telling. I always gave generously to charity when I thought I should derive the greatest benefit and credit for myself, for I did not believe in anonymity as far as I was concerned. If any donations were to be given I saw to it that my name was sufficiently prominent. Of course, I supported the church in the district where I lived, and at my own expense had some portions added to the building, with proper emphasis upon the donor. The house I occupied was my own, and of such size and situation as befitted my position in the world. In every respect, Roger, I regarded myself as a god. It wasn’t until I came to the spirit world that I discovered that I was one—made of tin, the sorriest, shabbiest god that ever lived. It was only a year or two past middle-life when disease overtook me, and at length I ‘died’. I have every reason to know that I was given a magnificent funeral, with all customary trappings, suitable mourning, and so on…And where was I, do you think, Roger, during all these sad lamentation?”

He soon found the answer to his agonizing enquiry in the depressing condition in which he found himself: “I awoke to find myself in the dirtiest, ‘wrechedest’ hovel you can imagine. It stood in a horrible, bleak spot without garden or any living thing round about. Seeing it for the first time, some might have thought that poverty was the trouble. So it was—poverty of the soul—for I had never done anything for anyone on earth, except it be for my own ultimate benefit, not theirs. The very clothes I was wearing were threadbare and soiled. In this dingy hole I found myself, smoldering with rage that I should, in some inconceivable fashion, have been reduced to a state of squalor. I didn’t seem able to leave the premises; I felt glued to the house. I gazed out of the windows, and could see nothing but barren ground. A grim, dismal outlook…I stormed and raved.”

Back to Franchezzo, when his soul was eventually released from the body, he appeared repulsive to himself. While on earth his material pursuits so filled his heart that he spared no time to think of the ethereal world. The result was the thickening and resultant denseness of his silver cord which took time to disintegrate. After he had gone through horror of darkness, he became aware of his smallness and helplessness; he longed for help. In some cases, we are told, such a condition can and does in fact last centuries or thousands of years for a great many. When help eventually came for Franchezzo, and he gained in strength, he could move, speak and hear…but then he found himself in the Twilight Land. According to him: “From this Twilight Land I took many journeys and saw many strange and different countries, but all bore the same stamp of coldness and desolation. One place was a great valley of grey stones. With dim, cold, grey hills shutting it in on every side, and this twilight sky overhead. Here again not a blade of grass, not one poor stunted shrub was to be seen, not one touch of colour or brightness everywhere, only this dull desolation of grey stones. Those who dwelt in this valley had centred their lives and their affections in themselves and had shut up their hearts against all warmth and beauty of unselfish love”

His wanderings led him to many other more or less dark regions of the Beyond, a part of one of the regions called ‘Frozen Land’ in which “cold, coolly calculating men” live. According to him and to his shock, among the inhabitants were ‘great statesmen.’ They were great statesmen only in accordance with the definition of man, but not as in the reckoning of the incorruptible Divine Laws. In Franchezzo’s words: ‘They were those who had not loved their country nor sought its good. Only their ambitions, their own aggrandizement had been their aim…all alike were chilled and frozen by awful coldness and barrenness of a life from which all warmth, all passions, was shut out.”

As we may have sensed, these are depictions of lives of people who would pass as decent, honorable and important personalities, from various walks of life. For murderers, robbers, people found wanton for sordid conduct, causing bodily harm or injury to souls, their conditions are worse in the Region of Darkness. In the Region, according to the enlightenment available in higher knowledge on earth in the present time, there is no light whatsoever. It is utter darkness and barrenness. Those who do not believe in the existence of the Creator are blind, deaf and dump. By not believing they caused the ethereal organs of sight, hearing and speech to shut down. So terrible is life there that hardly can a person on earth believe it. They grope, stumble and fall, hit their feet against sharp stones. They get up only to bump into this or into that. Here is a peep into the life of one of the inhabitants captured in what is called “A Communication from the Beyond, by Oscar Busch”. “…she lay sobbing with her head wrapped in rags. It was a woeful sight to see this once celebrated woman lying so squalid and wretched in this cold and dark place. I must admit that I got quite an ominous feeling as I sat there staring into the darkness, alone among so many unfortunate ones in this abode of agony.” It was the fate of a lady who facilitated the killing of her father. The lady lives in a cave in the depths, with water dripping into a space that cannot even take her full length. For how long her condition, which included herself being murdered in the Beyond would last she did not know.

As there are no words to describe the torments in the Dark Region so are there no words to describe the bliss, splendor and wonders of the Region of Light, which is even the Forecourt to Paradise. The lofty Heights and Land of the truly noble, described as the Land of the Blessed, here the spirit breaks through what may remain as the thinned out, light ethereal covering, shining, his hallow blazing like a flame! Mankind are permitted this inexhaustible knowledge today so that they can make their choice—Salvation or Damnation!