Soul Matters: Book Three: Towering Confusion
Chapter 5

The next day was a difficult one for Phil. Not only was he integrating a massive amount of his healed potential, he was also shifting to his rooted self whenever he felt any kind of anxiety. Bouncing around from one world to another was more than a bit disorienting. He remembered Manuel saying that shamans walked in two worlds and were effective in both. He wondered how long it would take for him to be effective in either.

These shifts from the real world to those markers along his trail and down the stairs were something he felt fairly comfortable with by this time. He could be in this world and that world simultaneously when he talked to plants, for example, or when he retrieved information about clients, and so on. The shift to the Spirit world, though, was a bit more difficult. He was having trouble staying in the real world when he did so. The rooted self was such a womb of comfort that he tended to lose track of what was going on around him.

Phil’s ‘real’ world also started to lose its coherence since the ‘healing’ in his medicine area. He was seeing through people during the following days. He was seeing Christ-crucified in the homeless people who begged for money to get their next bottle of wine. He was seeing Christ-arisen in those who spoke on behalf of humanity, against war, and for the children. He was seeing Christ-the-carpenter in the everyday man.

It was disturbing. He was blinking often to return himself to ‘normal’ sight. But there seemed to be no retreat from his new vision. In fact, he began picking up the images of the myriad of angels who attended man -- both good and bad. They weren’t distinct, but rather flashes or impressions -- like ‘trails’ one could see when high on psychedelics. In sum, it was disturbing.

As he slogged through his work, customer service became more important to him, and his team of associates wondered about his changed focus, his relaxed manner, and his unpredictable humor. But their production was up, and it’s all that mattered.

With Betty, he became more attentive. With his children, he became more available when they called from college. And through it all -- all three days of it -- he felt it was the most normal thing of all. None of it was forced or artificial or strained. He just took to a new way of being in the world as the proverbial duck to water. Only his mind struggled to adjust.

The next obvious visit was with Sandy. He knew the ex-seminarian would have a fresh take on Phil’s situation.

“I feel like that frog where they heat up the water slowly until it boils the frog to death, and it doesn’t jump out of the pan.”

Sandy laughed at Phil’s characterization of himself. They sat outside in the fading light as Phil explained his deteriorating situation.

Fully briefed, Sandy said, “It took a while, but the whole archetypal thing makes sense to me. That level of existence is all about templates. They could be manufactured from above or from below. Templates are templates regardless.”

“We make the masks of God, then. And it makes sense to you that we did so?”

“Yeah. God would have to bless each one somehow, but Jehovah -- the archetype of fundamentalism -- makes sense once I thought about it.”

“But what about these elaborate break-downs for the levels of Spirit?” Phil pushed back, hoping on one level for confirmation, and on another level for Sandy to deny it was real.

“They are elaborate -- a trail to represent the unconscious, stairs for the ch’i level, and a medicine area for spirit.”

“And you still don’t think I’m going crazy.”

Sandy laughed again, “You couldn’t come up with this stuff, Phil. You’re not that imaginative. And it’s actually completely consistent with how most mystics map the realms of Spirit.”

“How so?” Phil needed details to quell his mounting fear he was going nuts. Once he let his guard down with Sandy, the fear began bubbling to a boiling panic.

Sandy didn’t notice that and forged on, “Take the ch’i level, for example. Or Force level, or Nature level, whatever you want to call it. It’s a level pretty well mapped by yogis, shamans, and Chinese medicine. It’s the realm of psychic powers, healing, and connection with Mother Earth. All traditions agree on that.”

Sandy up-ended his beer and rose to get a fresh one. Phil’s panic was subsiding. But knowing Manuel’s world as fact was equally disturbing.

Once Sandy was reseated, Phil muttered with a sigh, “I think it is more comfortable to be crazy than to accept Manuel’s world.”

“Yeah,” Sandy agreed, chuckling. “It’s why most people leave this stuff to the priests. With the decline of healthy religion, and the rise of fanaticism, it appears we, each of us individually, must find our own moral compass.”

“Like that will happen,” Phil scoffed.

“It already is,” Sandy pointed out. “People are beginning to see past their self-interest to the bigger picture. They aren’t acting from there yet, but they can, at least, see the bigger picture.”

“I deal with greed all day, Sandy. I sell insurance.”

“Profit is different than greed. Profit has to take a Seventh Generation approach these days.”

“Maybe so, but we’re a far cry from kids in school learning how to walk a trail to the steps to an envisioned archway to Spirit.”

Sandy smiled. “Maybe not as out-there as you think. The Millennial Generation will stand on the foundation we give them to accomplish their generational task.”

“What would that be? Provide everyone with a moral compass?”

“I don’t know. I would hope they, at least, find a way to bring respect for each of the rungs on the ladder of spiritual development. That would be a welcome change from religious warfare.”

“You’re not helping,” Phil finished his beer and stood. “I can’t go back to my old comfort zone. Going forward seems a march to insanity. And I can’t stand still. What should I do?”

Sandy continued to smile. “I suppose telling you to go with the flow won’t help. So the best I can offer is we’re judged, according to some, by how pure our hearts remain. We’re born pure of heart and we keep it pure by the choices we make.”

Phil retrieved another beer and sat for a minute, thinking that it was bad enough the tidy fortress of fundamentalism was as obsolete as the canons guarding its treasured beliefs. Adding insult to injury, Manuel suggested a whole new back-story to the rise of humans. In fact, it was this new idea that the fall of man was mostly a failure of nerve.

In fact the Mystery Schools he researched after that topic was introduced claimed the Age of Man arose out of an Age of Metamorphosis. Itself a place not unlike J.R.R. Tolkien’s epic about hobbits, orcs, elves, dwarves, and so on. That age saw the rise and fall of legendary civilizations. The myths about those, Atlantis among them, recalled a time when the evolutionary project was not only guided directly by the gods and angels, but was also confused by the dark forces seeking to limit or stop the process. They seemed to have met with success at the Tower of Babel.

Phil wasn’t sure if any of it was germane to his current problem. It would be nice to ignore the fantastical claims Manuel made about the Age of Metamorphosis. Phil’s only concern, after all, was to complete the task at hand and get back to his ‘normal’ life.

Even so, the implication was what went on long ago was still going on. Each human born was bound to the Great Mother, fought Typhon to gain individuality, settled into mythic religion, and escaped myth for the new constraints of reason. Then the challenge really began – reclaim a connection to the Divine.

Phil knew he must shed his reluctance and make some sense of how this metamorphic age still governed human development. He decided to ask Sandy. At least Sandy wouldn’t ridicule his ignorance.

Sandy was now in the kitchen cooking his dinner. Phil got up and pulled another beer out of the box on the table. He handed Sandy one.

“I can put in enough for two, if you’re hungry.”

“Already ate,” Phil said. “Thanks.”

Once the wok was sizzling with his stir-fry dinner, Sandy sat at the table, “What else is on your mind?”

Phil sat across from him and asked, “What was happening during the time of Atlantis?”

“No one knows for sure, but Plato wasn’t the only ancient writer who referenced it,” Sandy began. “Rudolf Steiner, an early 20th Century philosopher, says there were a series of high civilizations that presided over the transition of Spirit as it descended into Matter.”

“My rational mind is struggling with the archetypal level, the nature level, and all that, and how they fit into the laws of involution and evolution,” Phil interrupted.

“So, if you go back two million years, there were three or four ice ages and long periods in between them,” Sandy replied. “There was a lot of time for biology to experiment with itself.”

“You’re coming at this top down – when the law of involution was in effect,” Phil said. “How does this experimentation line up? I think that’s where my mind gets fuzzy.”

“Okay,” Sandy said and took a slug of beer. “I figured that. To start with, it’s estimated that over ninety percent of all the plants and animals that have existed on Earth are extinct.”

Phil’s mood lightened with that statistic. “Lots of failed experiments.”

“Yep. The story goes that the first evolution was a giant green organism that spanned the planet. That lines up with the archetypal level. Sort of the cookie cutters were being imagined and made. That level is still active. Cookie cutters can still be imagined and created.”

“But they need God’s blessing to continue to exist.”

“If they were manufactured at the archetypal level, that’s all the blessing they need.”

“Okay. I think I get that. Like a fad won’t last, even though lots of folks sign up for it.”

Sandy laughed. “Remember the pet rock?”

Phil chuckled in response.

“Anyway, at the nature level, the bugs, plants, and animals started showing up. And the competition began.”

“And lasted over eons,” Phil added. “Then, between ice ages, the high civilizations came about.”

“That’s the story,” Sandy confirmed. “Remember that on the way down, divine consciousness dominated, even as it was losing its grip. These civilizations benefitted from that knowledge. The Mystery School, later on, tried to preserve the knowledge.”

“When the involution bottomed out, and the law of evolution kicked in.”

“Yeah. The transition from one to the other is probably where your confusion comes from. The first product of the journey back was the heroic ego when it separated from the dynamic ground.”

“Dynamic ground?”

“Spirit fully embedded in matter and completely unconscious. As each human becomes conscious – self-aware – the trip up the ladder begins.”

Phil shook his head. “It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“Yeah. It is that.”

“So human history begins in the transition zone – maybe 20,000 years ago.”

“Or more, and it probably went on for quite a while as nature finished sorting itself out.”

Phil took a breath and let it out. “If I view this as the divine infusing and then losing itself in matter, it would take a long time. The process would explore variations on the way down. Unicorns, pixies, orcs, whatever, but the next ice age would kill them off so only the hearty species would survive.”

“So you get that they overlapped,” Sandy said. “The ancient civilizations, like Atlantis, tried to keep the memory of Spirit alive at each step down the ladder so they could help folks back up the ladder.”

“I don’t get it.”

“When you’re born, you know nothing. You are at the beginning of your evolutionary journey. These civilizations, and the later Mystery Schools, provided you with the education to reclaim your identity as a child of God.”

“So each step down spawned a new school during the time that the law of involution was in effect.”

“Pretty much,” Sandy shrugged. “You see evidence for it in the myths. First, Olympian gods walked with men; then the demi-gods took over; then man was on his own once Reason kicked in. Step down, step down, step down.”

“Manuel said we evolved from the plant realm. That during a certain timeframe natural evolution sorted through lots of hybrids until we took this form.”

“That’s the story,” Sandy agreed and rose to check his dinner. “We still came from the primal seas, though. The half-fish gods, like Poseidon and Horus and others, symbolize that transition.”

Phil frowned and sipped his beer, “What’s got me puzzled is this overlap between the Law of Involution and the Law of Evolution.”

Sandy grabbed another beer from the box and sat down, “Ever hear the term ‘trailing clouds of glory’?”

“Manuel used it the other day in reference to the Prophet Jeremiah.”

“And it means someone who remembers where they came from.”

“The world of Spirit.”

“Yes,” Sandy allowed. “In Jeremiah’s case, he took it to mean he was chosen to be a prophet. But many of the Millennial Generation take it to mean they were exiled.”

“Donna and Bobby’s generation.”

“The very same,” Sandy smiled. “I have a niece that when she was three asked if the feathered lady, who put her into her mother’s belly, was the same person who gets you when you die.”

“No kidding?”

Sandy nodded and elaborated, “The goddess clothed in a feathered cloak is a cross-cultural goddess.”

“What happened with your niece?”

“Didn’t do well in school. She kept giving up when she ran into obstacles. My sister -- probably out of desperation -- had her talk to me. We finally figured out her issue was she felt like she was in exile.”

Phil commented, “Rejected by God would be hard to take. How’s she doing now?”

“The jury’s out. Although she does realize, at least intellectually, she chose to come here.”

Phil thought about it for a moment and said, “As the process of involution proceeded, there were people who tried to maintain a connection to Spirit. The deeper the descent into Matter, the more difficult it became. Eventually, the Mystery Schools were all that was left.”

Sandy nodded and rose again to turn off the stove. He dished up his dinner into a large bowl and sat back down. “On the other side of it, the Law of Evolution was sparking the development of the ego. That was driven, if you follow Freud, by sex, money, power and status.”

“Greed.”

Sandy amended, “I like to think of it as lust. It’s got a more accurate ring to it than greed.”

“Okay. Once the separate-self got its start, reconnecting to Spirit was harder. How would an ordinary guy do it?”

“Religion, yoga, meditation, 12-step programs, and the list goes on.”

“But each of those can be corrupted by ego-drives.”

“Yup. It’s a difficult journey.”

On the evening of the fourth day of his more aware and healed life, he knew it was time to return to Manuel’s patio and begin the campaign against the mask of God whom he worshipped for some 25 years.

After dinner, he settled onto the black leather pillow in his study and brought himself into deep meditation. Presently, he popped into Manuel’s patio.

“It’s about time,” Manuel chided him.

Phil grinned at the angel, who seemed less bright. Or maybe he was getting used to the brightness.

“I’d like to clarify the meaning behind the Tower of Babel incident,” Phil began. He knew there was something of critical importance hidden in the story. He sat on the marble bench and waited.

The angel sat next to him, “Then let me just give you some history. The city of Uruk, which became Babylon, was ruled by a guy named Enmer-kar. The Bible calls him Nimrod, the first potentate on Earth. He was also the guy who first demanded tribute from a neighboring king, Aratta. In other words, Nimrod was the first to seek power for its own sake.”

Remembering what the Devil said, Phil reiterated, “The dark forces can’t keep evolution from happening, so they push mankind to its shadow side. Is this an example?”

“Power for its own sake brings with it cruelty and decadence. So what do you think?”

“If he used power the right way, what would it have looked like?”

“He lost the connection to the Great Mystery and the Elohim who serve the Creation project. He couldn’t have acted in any other way. Anyone not under his control was a threat to him and his hometown gods.”

“He was stuck with the tutelary gods of the region.”

“Yes. As the process of evolution hardened, we couldn’t keep the knowledge about the higher realms from getting lost.”

“We had to evolve our way back to it.”

“And Nimrod grew the idea of power over others,” Manuel confirmed. “He built the ziggurat as an attempt to harness the tutelary gods to his bidding.”

“Whereas you tried to divert the project so man’s ego could maintain a connection with the Divine.”

The angel smirked, “You saw how that worked out. What you didn’t see was what Nimrod did next. His priests prophesied the birth of Abram, which he took to mean a rival to his power. In response, he killed a bunch of babies and used them as foundation sacrifices for building projects.”

“That’s gruesome,” Phil remarked. “Abram escaped, though, and some people did carry the memory of the Divine forward.”

“Not as many as we would have liked.”

With this short history, Phil could piece the rest together. Early on, everybody was connected to the Great Mystery. Then individuals emerged. These separate spirits were eventually trapped in matter. They forgot where they came from. Matter and spirit gave birth to the ego -- an agent capable of reconciling the dichotomy. At this early stage, though, the ego went its own way instead of bridging the gap.

Manuel, reading Phil’s thoughts, said, “That sums it up.”

“From then on,” Phil said, “those in contact with the Divine were marginalized.”

“Well, the Mystery Schools were already up and running,” Manuel corrected him. “Abram went through his training in Egypt. The process back then was the priests raised the vegetative body into awareness so the initiate could reconnect to its powers of perception.”

“Knowing you’re part of the Whole.”

“Yes.”

“Once the ego is aware of this, it chooses a different life’s path.”

“Usually.”

“So now, this far into the process of involution, we had to use extraordinary means to connect with our spiritual history or genealogy.”

“You got it.”

Phil thought about all this for a while before saying, “It must have been difficult to watch. How did you and the other angels cope?”

“You’ll have to ask them,” Manuel said. “I kept trying to push the river.”

“And that’s why you have the reputation you do.”

“Enough of that. Let’s go,” was Manuel’s retort. “The Sarim have a battle plan, and you need to get briefed on it.”

Manuel put his hand on Phil’s shoulder, and away they went. Up through the roof, across the PMS level, to the headquarters of the Sarim.

Soon they landed on the raised platform where Metatron and Raphael awaited them.

Metatron pointed to the hologram and said, “Jehovah is the figure in red. Today he’s once again at the Compound of Evil. He’s looking for the angels you freed from the lake of fire.”

“Are they still hiding in the Void?” Phil asked.

“Understandably, yes, they are,” Metatron said in his measured voice. “But your task is to bring life to an archetype you can work with. Manuel tells me you already have a relationship with Morrigan. He also told me Gabriel spoke to you when he was in his revelation-mode, and your true parents are Morrigan and the Lord of the Elements. But you haven’t met with him yet. Is this correct?”

“I believe so.”

“Fine,” Metatron said. “Raphael will accompany you to the Lord of the Elements. You will bring him to life, and then we’ll see what comes of it.”

Without further discussion, Manuel, Raphael, and Phil exited the Sarim headquarters and headed for the storage yard of retired archetypes.

The last time Phil traveled there was through the portal of the magic-wall in Manuel’s patio. This time they flew out of the wheel-like structure of the angelic compound to parts unknown to Phil. It was a dizzyingly fast trip. The ground blurred beneath them. Soon, however, they were flying above an endless bank of clouds. Monoliths dotted the floor of the clouds. Abruptly they descended to one such 20-foot tall statue and landed before it.

Phil surmised this must be the Lord of the Elements. It was a face surrounded by leaves. Its body resembled a tree, also clothed in leaves. It reminded Phil of a sniper dressed up in a ghillie suit.

“He’s also known as the Green Man,” Manuel told Phil.

They quickly searched for the entrance into the statue. It was a massive leaf. Opening the leaf-door, they entered the hollow interior of the Green Man. Once inside, Phil could sense the combination of rich vegetation and the transcendent life present in each living thing. Phil could also feel his own individual life and Life itself.

A ladder led the way to Green Man’s eyes, and the trio climbed to stand on the ledge to peer out those eyes.

“They’re all like this, aren’t they?” Phil asked, somewhat rhetorically.

Manuel answered, “All the masks of God are hollow, huge, and unique. The other archetypes -- the ones who are not masks of God -- are configured differently as static principles with angels to administer to them.”

Phil wasn’t sure what the angel meant and changed the subject, “Do I fill him up with energy?”

“Yes,” Manuel said, “but energy from all three realms -- Flesh, Force and Spirit.”

“How do I do it?” Phil wondered.

“Aarrgg!” Manuel uttered in disgust. “Why can’t you let yourself know what you know?”

Phil didn’t know how to answer the question. He stood silent waiting for Manuel’s fit to pass.

Raphael apparently knew the answer and said, “His mind is still bound to the belief human nature is evil.”

Frowning, Phil clarified the point, “Even Freud said our basic drives were for incest, cannibalism, and murder.”

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Manuel rejoined. “Human nature is ‘very good.’ God said so. The ego-self, on the other hand, has got some serious issues.”

The distinction rang true within Phil’s still realigning-itself, new consciousness. He didn’t know what to make of it, though.

He decided to concede the point and move on, “Okay, but how do I bring energy from those three realms into Green Man?”

Manuel sighed, looked out the huge porthole window and called out, “Patience is not enough, God. I also need a higher order of compassion. Or something. Something to allow me to respect this stupidity as somehow normal. I can’t help but think he’s doing this just to make me crazy... Okay. Thanks... Well, I think comparing me to him is a bit of a reach... Okay. I’ll try to see it from your perspective... Thanks, again.”

Phil turned to gaze out the window to hide his smile, and Manuel didn’t seem to notice the humor of it at all.

The angel told him, “Use you heart as a kind of mixing vat. Bring the Living Force from the stone stairway up through one leg. Bring the Spirit energy from your Sacred Area up through your other leg. Then connect to your physical body and bring Flesh energy through your mind into your heart. Mix all three in your heart and release it into the statue.”

Phil created a circuit for each of these energies one at a time, but soon energy was flowing into him from the three realms. His heart filled to overflowing, and the combined energies spilled out of him to fill the statue.

The Green Man awoke and said, “Two angels and a human. Odd company of beings. Explain yourselves.” His voice was resonant and deep -- like thunder echoing in the forest.

Raphael did so, explaining also the task they wanted Green Man to take on. In short order, Green Man was moving towards a confrontation with Jehovah.

The Green Man moved through space in a way similar to the angels, but different. Rather than ‘flying,’ which Phil was getting used to, Green Man ‘flowed.’ It was like the PMS level turned liquid, and Green Man was a torpedo on a mission.

Shortly they arrived on the desert plain near the Wall. The black, writhing height of the Wall was a renewed jolt for Phil. He pried his eyes from the Wall and onto the imposing figure of Jehovah.

He looked as Phil imagined him to be. Tall, robed and cloaked in expensive garments; forked, long beard; and piercing but also oddly vacant eyes. Jehovah was an impressive sight. He stood at least twenty feet tall, and a throng of people surrounded him.

Phil turned to the angels for an explanation.

“When you die,” Manuel said, “you go to where you think you belong. Once you get bored with the meager existence there, you reincarnate.”

“All those people are dead?”

“And not bored yet,” Manuel added.

“We’re a bit out-numbered,” Phil pointed out. “Like, millions to one.”

“Not to worry,” Manuel assured him. “They can’t do anything to Green Man.”

Raphael, a less exuberant angel, agreed, “Their power is in their beliefs, and their focus is worship. Jehovah is, therefore, a projection of their own Atman-selves.”

Jehovah strode forward and his voice boomed with majestic power, “Lord of the Elements. You were vanquished 1500 years ago. I am sole heir to mankind’s worship. I have conquered all false gods to become Supreme. Be gone, Green Man. Back to the oblivion you so richly deserve.”

The command was like a wave hitting the Green Man, but the wave passed, and he was still standing there.

“Be gone, I say,” Jehovah shouted.

The wave was less this time.

The Lord of the Elements spoke in reply, “Your arrogance has blinded you to your rightful place in Creation, Lord Jehovah. It is high time you returned to your rightful place.”

A stand-off began, and Phil could see no visible signs of a battle. However, he could feel the energy within the Green Man kaleidoscoping regularly in response to whatever Jehovah was doing.

Manuel clarified, “This is why Sandalphon lost. He couldn’t pull energy from the Flesh. But neither can Jehovah pull from the Spirit. His followers have no mastery of that level.”

“How?” Phil inquired. “The higher should inform the lower.”

“Same mistake we made,” Raphael said in his slow, patient voice. “In Creation, the lower informs the higher. As in, if there’s no foundation, the sky-scraper will fall over.”

The energy stopped spiraling, and a long silence began.

Presently, Jehovah spoke in his rumbling-thunder voice, “You must remember when man is on his knees, his financial health, his social well-being, and his spirituality arise as one. When man stood on his feet to proclaim himself independent, they all collapsed together. Would you deny this? Would you allow this? Stand aside so I might save mankind from itself.”

The Lord of the Elements replied, “You would rob them of their own Divinity, throw the baby out with the bath-water. Man is not evil. His mistake is thinking his ego is the Divine. Your mistake is thinking the Divine is non-existent in man. Go back to your Compound where this vision serves its rightful purpose.”

To the contrary, Jehovah called out, “Look around you. How can the time of their deliverance not be at hand? A culture war rages on Earth. All those who disagree with Me promote death -- abortion, euthanasia, promiscuity, homosexuality, and drug addiction. It is time to end it.”

The Green Man moved closer, and Phil could hear the rustling of leaves. “Death, my Lord, is the problem. The knowledge of Death is the price for knowing oneself as a separate being. Transcend the ego, and death is also transcended.”

“You quibble with words,” Jehovah shot back.

“And you would bring more death to them, and more suffering.”

“NO!” Jehovah thundered. “I am the cause of all prosperity, liberty, and stability. I come to restore traditional values. Is the enforced practice of atheism good? No, again. And I will not tolerate it. I will conquer the atheistic, amoral, one-world humanists, and bring them all to My Kingdom.”

The energy changed again. Phil could feel a burning brilliance build within Green Man.

When he spoke, this energy lanced across the space between the two gods. Green Man spoke, “Both man’s horrid appetites and the oppressive instruments to control him are evil. Yet neither can solve the problem, for they are the problem. The problem is the ego seeking immortality. Your Kingdom is their hope for immortality, Lord Jehovah. It is the final Evil they aspire to.”

The radiance-filled argument hit Jehovah hard. He stumbled backwards.

“I bring salvation,” he said in defense.

“You bring arrogance,” Green Man replied.

“I bring order,” Jehovah rebutted.

“You bring war as people fight for you,” Green Man countered.

“I bring Absolute Truth to a world locked in moral relativism,” Jehovah tried.

“You deny the Absolute Brahmin within each man, woman and child,” Green Man indicted him. “You have glorified their egos. Multiplied their fears. Promised them immortality. You have stand as a bulwark against their advancement to Spirit. You are supposed to be a way station on their path to Enlightenment, not a destination.”

Phil looked to the angels and asked, “Where is Green Man coming up with this stuff?”

Manuel laughed, “From you. It’s your energy he’s drawing from. And it’s also true he happens to be the archetype for all he’s said. Still, you had some kind of relationship with him in the past. Short answer: you empowered him.”

Raphael added, “As he, in the past, empowered you.”

Phil looked out the window again. He wasn’t sure what to make of Manuel’s statement. Nor did he want to consider its implications. Instead he observed the standoff between the two gods. Which wasn’t very interesting. They just stood there opposing one another.

Finally Jehovah said, “Who brought you to life?”

“A human,” Green Man answered. “One of my children from long ago. He is in the flesh again and responded to the call.”

“Show yourself, human,” Jehovah called out. “Stand in judgment for opposing My Will.”

Phil turned again to the angels, “Do I have to go out there?”

“You’re human,” Raphael reminded him. “You can disobey God.”

Phil spoke to Green Man, “I don’t want to go out there. He scares me.”

“I cannot force him back to his Compound,” Green Man said. “Nor can he force me anywhere. We’ve reached a stalemate. He thinks he can win by bullying you. We can win if he cannot.”

“How does it work?”

“The throng at his back,” Green Man said. “Right now, they are a non-factor. If you rise to challenge Jehovah, either he bullies you into submission, or the crowd comes out of their immobility and bullies you for him. Refuse to be bullied by either, and the crowd will waiver. As their belief in Jehovah waivers, so does Jehovah.”

Phil looked out the window again. There may not have been millions at Jehovah’s back, but there were a lot of souls out there.

“How could I stand alone against so many?” he said without realizing he said it.

“I’ll go with you,” Raphael offered.

“And I’ll stay here,” Manuel chipped in. “Jehovah doesn’t like me very much.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a long story,” Manuel deferred. “It has to do with Mark Twain. Stuff he wrote set Jehovah’s agenda back a few decades.”

Phil shook his head and smiled. If nothing else, Manuel was full of surprises.

Raphael placed both hands on Phil’s shoulders again. The energy-stream this time was more subtle. When Raphael released him, Phil felt more confident than he had ever felt.

“It won’t last,” Raphael told him. “It is merely a Band-Aid for the wounds in you I cannot heal. But we must hurry.”

Phil descended the ladder and exited the form of Green Man. Raphael trailed him. Once outside on the desert plain, Phil felt the absence of the warm field of energy inside the Lord of the Elements. At once he knew was on his own.

“Remember,” Raphael murmured, “your protections do not hold if you become arrogant. If this all turns bad, go to your ‘rooted self’ and stay there until we come for you.”

Phil glanced back at Green Man. Manuel was the white pupil in the large eye of the Lord of the Elements. He heard Manuel call out, “I’ll prompt you if you start being stupid.”

Turning to face the giant shape of Jehovah, Phil called out, “Here I am.”

His voice carried to all those gathered there. The people edged in closer for a look at this human who stood against them and their God.

Jehovah started right in, obviously playing to the crowd, “I am here for the unborn, the aged, the infirm. I bring hope to those trapped in poverty, to those trapped in the public school system, to children growing up without fathers, to the working poor. It is I who make their lives better.”

“How?” Phil snapped back. “You would dismantle all the institutions caring for them.”

“The doctrine of charity comes from the work ethic,” Jehovah explained. And the crowd came alive to cheer him on. “If man cannot be profitable, he cannot be charitable.”

“You promote lust for gold, condemn lust in the flesh; you promote lust for power and condemn lust for false gods. You are all about lust,” Phil answered. “You are obsessed with lust.”

Phil was glad he talked to Sandy earlier. The term ‘lust’ did have a better ring to it than greed. Watching the finely arrayed god, Phil could tell Jehovah didn’t take the assertion very well. His robes swirled around him as he raised his arms as if to strike at Phil.

“Dualists get hung up on lust,” Phil continued. “It mirrors the war going on between their body and soul. But how can man have both body and soul and deny either?”

Now Jehovah turned to his multitudes. They were wavering, and an uneasy buzz began among them.

Raphael spoke quietly, “You understood Gevurah’s message. Now the people begin to understand as well.”

Phil raised his voice to conclude, “Hospitality is the true name of the Hebrew God. Compassion is the true name of the Christian God. Justice is the true name of the Muslim God. And your true name, Lord Jehovah, is Lust.”

Raphael grabbed Phil by his arm, “Let’s go.”

They raced back to the Green Man. Once inside, they clambered up the ladder to witness the scene developing.

Manuel did the play-by-play as they climbed the ladder, “There are enough folks in the crowd who were already bored with Jehovah’s ideas about heaven and hell. Your words gave them focus for their disenchantment. And they started talking to the others. Now Jehovah has a riot on his hands.”

“It’s time, then,” the Green Man said. He called out in a strong voice, “Lord Jehovah, you will return to your Compound and serve your rightful function there.”

Without another word, Jehovah lifted off the ground and apparently returned to his Compound. Angels then appeared and escorted the throng back there as well.

Phil remembered there were no real battles in heaven, at least not recently or in the way he imagined. It was more like a chess game. Once a checkmate was achieved, the loser conceded the game. Jehovah, knowing he lost, merely retreated from the field. This was definitely not something Pay-per-View would be interested in, Phil thought. Then he brought his attention back to the two angels and Green Man.

“What now?”

“We take Green Man back to his parking place,” Manuel said. “However, like Morrigan, he is now one of the deities you can use on your journey.”

Green Man spoke to him, “The gods and goddesses are here to serve mankind, Phil; not the other way around.”

Once they accomplished the task, they returned to Sarim headquarters. As usual, the place was a frenzy of activity. They landed on the raised platform where the lone figure of Metatron stood before the hologram of the PMS level.

“Well done,” he said without much enthusiasm. “Nearly one-third of Jehovah’s followers are now ready to reincarnate. They are getting their briefing as we speak.”

Phil glanced at Manuel who shrugged a response to the human’s curiosity.

Metatron was saying, “The fallen angels have left the Void and are returning to their duties. Sammael has sent Beelzebub here to confer with us.”

“And to bring the contract,” Phil said in a hopeful voice. He noticed the confidence he felt was beginning to wane. He regretted the loss.

“Yes, the contract,” Metatron confirmed.

The obese, dark form of Beelzebub appeared, and he dropped onto the platform.

Phil noticed once again he was tolerating the presence of angels much better. He could look at this Prince of Evil and neither be overwhelmed nor drawn in.

Beelzebub spoke as he handed the parchment to the human, “The contract, as per our agreement, Phil. Sammael and Azazel are none too happy about this, as you might imagine. They both continue to feel cheated in their dealings with you. And they both would like nothing better than a rematch. Watch yourself.”

Phil took the contract and ripped it up, saying, “Thanks. And I would like nothing better than to have them be less productive in their chosen line of work. As Manuel said the other day, it’s you who brought us to this crisis.”

Beelzebub laughed, a deep baritone sound of clarinets, “It is always easier to serve the Dark Side, my friend. Tearing things down is always easier than building things up.”

Then Beelzebub lifted off the platform and flew through the roof.

“Now what?” Phil asked.

“Get things back to normal,” Metatron said. “We do thank you for your help in this matter, Phil. But, on the other hand, your journey on Earth continues as before. You have your karma to work out, your purpose to fulfill, and your life to lead. There is nothing more we can do for you as a token of our gratitude.”

Raphael spoke in a softer voice, “When you are ready for more healing, let me know.”

“How would I know when?”

Manuel’s heavy sigh indicated this was a ‘stupid’ question. Nevertheless Raphael answered, “Unhealed wounds are unhealed because the factors causing the wound are scattered. When they are all brought back to your mind, then the wound can be healed.”

Manuel put his hand on Phil’s shoulder, and they flew back to the patio. Once there, Manuel did explain what Raphael meant.

“Humans are ‘open systems,’ like flowers,” Manuel said as they seated themselves on the marble bench. “Flowers draw in nutrients, sunshine, water, and give back blossoms. Humans draw in life experience and it’s supposed to produce wisdom.”

Phil smirked, “It isn’t always the case.”

“But it’s supposed to be,” Manuel said and continued, “However, when an event in your life cannot be digested or processed, the human psyche isn’t designed for storage. It’s an open system. What the psyche does is break the event into discreet pieces. The emotions of the event go into the muscles of the body. The memory of the event goes into the spiritual realm. For healing to occur, these two must be brought back together.”

Phil considered this analysis and concluded, “There’s stuff inside me not ready to be reunited yet.”

“It’s what Raphael was picking up,” Manuel confirmed. “And he’s the best we’ve got for ‘healing.’ It’s his unique talent.”

“So each archangel has a unique talent?”

“There’s a lot of overlap in what we do, but we are individuals. We have different talents.”

Phil smiled, “What’s yours?”

Manuel smiled back, “Getting into untenable situations -- like having you show up in my patio unannounced.”

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