April 4, 1999

Samuel: So you have a holiday. And you’ll never have another holiday, will you?

I’ve got it.

S: Aye, well somebody had to.

And what holiday is that?


S: The multiplication of bunnies. The herding up of tiny chicks. Aye. Peeps. Peep, peep. All right, what is it? Aye.

Easter represents . . .

S: So it’s eggs. All right, I left out the eggs.

Celebrates the resurrection of Christ.

S: It is a celebration of life out of death. It is a recognition of, indeed, the resurrection of the Christ. It is also, for some odd reason, rabbits and chickens and eggs. Why?


S: Who is?

Goddess of fertility. One of the other versions, older versions if you will, of what that particular holiday was about was a recognition of the power of springtime. Life out of death. And the bunnies, and the eggs, and the chickens come into the picture because . . .

New life.


S: Because they are a very easy example of . . .


S: It’s not hard. So when last we were together we were making a sermonette. A sermonette about the final moments of Christ Jesus’ life.

Tell me a couple of things you remember.

The disciples fell asleep when they were supposed to be keeping watch.

S: One of the […] friends decided to sleep.

I didn’t hear what she said.

Don’t have her repeat it unless she said something like I’m going to say, but in the midst of . . .  it was very humbling, your story, because in the midst of the agony that he experienced physically, with the physical body, and the duration of that pain, he was able to overcome the needs of ego, the needs of form, to be divine, and to meet the needs of what was right there, of those around him. And it was a very powerful, powerful message for me to see actually that expression in form that’s been on this planet.

S: That which I can do, you can do also, and more. Aye.

You spoke about the miracles found in the small, unnoticed details of the whole story. Those small unnoticed details.

S: Such as?

Well, as in the Last Supper, just the act of seeing what was needed, and seeing that it happened.

S: That, as is the case with so very many stories, it’s the small things that often go by unnoticed where the miracles are. Recognizing a need and meeting it. Doing what is needed at the moment.


One of the things that I remember the most was that Jesus, of course, knew that his days were numbered, and those who were closest to him and closest to his teachings did not. And rather than trying to have his last days be teaching them by word, and having them write down what he said and making sure they knew how to pray, as in “Our Father,” and all the things he taught them by example and by throwing a party and showing them the importance of sharing in a meal, and serving them. And just even though he knew he only had a short amount of time, he chose to live love and not worry about that. Let his example stand for his teachings.

S: Aye. And there are many, many more things that can be gleaned from allowing yourself the time to study, a bit, that life. But there are also some very important things that you can gain from studying the death, and we talked just a bit about that. And Mary Claire has made a reference there about that. Does anybody have anything to add to that portion of the experience?

Most all of what he said during his last few hours was about others, his regard, and relative to meeting the needs of others, like “Take care of my mother,” and talking to the other men who were crucified along with him.

S: Aye.

He chose when to leave, that he didn’t have to stay in pain.

S: Aye, divinity does that. Aye.

He recognized the experience, recognized the horror of it, and asked if there is . . . “If it’s in the cards for this not to happen, let it not happen, but if it is what’s needed, I’m willing to go along this path.” And so it was a real recognition of the human awareness of the body and the form, of what the experience was going to be, but also the divine acceptance of what is for the highest good.

S: Thank you, love. Let me go there just a moment. When in your life you’re staring death in the face— and all right, it may not be they’re about to literally crucify you; maybe you’re about to be figuratively crucified. Do you know what I’m talking about there? Maybe the death that you’re looking at is not necessarily the one of your physical body, but it certainly is the death of everything that’s been so meaningful to you in regard to your physical life.

And so there you are, staring in the face of the death of life as you have known it, or wanted it. Let’s push it just a bit further. You are staring at the end of your purpose for being on the planet. Truly, life as you have known it. How do you respond?

Humanity says, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Me? No, everything’s fine. Denial. Or kicking and screaming the whole time. Not me! Resistance. Victimization. Holy victimization, martyrdom. Divinity says, If this is what I’m being given, make me gracious enough to make the most use of it. Yes, that divides the sheep from the goats right there, doesn’t it?

Remember that, as I have said repeatedly, sometimes the way that you die can have a greater effect on others than the way that you lived. And, please remember, that as I speak this night, when I am speaking death, I’m not talking the death of your physical body. I’m talking the death of dreams, hopes, of life as you have known it, planned for it, expected, wanted. The death of a way that you have lived.

Just quickly, tell me a few deaths that one experiences in life. What are some examples? Aye.

Well, my mother just had a death to her old way of life. We had to move her to a nursing home.

S: And as a result all of the children have had a death to their old way of life, too. Right?

Right. That’s right.

S: Aye.


S: Indeed. That’s a very powerful, radical change in experience. What’s another? Aye.

The death of an engagement, resulting in marriage.

S: Sure. Sure. And you don’t think of that as a terrible death, now do you? But the way things had been is no longer. There is a new life ahead. Sure. Good one. More.

Death of a job, you either quit or lost it.

S: Or promoted to something different. Aye. You have many deaths. The death of the child to the adult. Hopefully. Looking across the group, maybe not. But you get the idea.

Sometimes the way you go, the nature of how you handle your death in these many ways, that your life makes radical changes so that old has passed on and the new is ready to be born, sometimes that death can have a more powerful effect than the life that was going before it.

And when Christ Jesus died, he had control over it. A process that takes two, three, four days took hours. A process that is painful and unpleasant brought out the truest nature of that one, which was humility, and love, and kindness, and thoughtfulness. Is that how you manage your way through the changes in your life? I know why you laugh. It’s that sort of nervous, shift-in-the-seat laugh from recognizing what you wish were the case, more than is the case. Aye.

Now, once death has happened—lets continue with the story. It is the nature of the day, after all. Once upon a time in a country far, far away there lived somebody who had many very dear friends. Maybe they were dear friends because they could get something they wanted from this person. Maybe they were dear friends, because they recognized something within this person. Maybe it was because there was a balance in the giving and receiving, but eventually that friend died. Have you ever had that happen in your life? And these friends were bleak, because this friend of theirs encompassed much more than simply a bud. Buddy. Is a flower. Is a beer. Is a friend. A name.

He was also the hope, the hope of their lives. Everything that they had been working toward, everything that they were dedicating their lives to. They had made radical changes in their experience in order to follow this one. Some had left family. They had left occupations. They gave up who they were, because they believed in what this one had to say, and that one was now dead.

As was the custom of the day, friends took care of the burial. Family took care of the burial. Being that it was a somewhat unexpected death, no plans had been made—some of you have had that happen too—another friend took care of that.

This isn’t where the point I’m going with tonight is. It’s a little further down the road, that’s why I’m bypassing this part so quickly.

I want you to remember a couple of things. One of them is in the belief system of that time. It was not unusual, it was not unusual to have an ability to overcome death. Well, I’m not saying it was exactly your everyday thing, but it happened. In fact, it was even reported that there were those who did not even die at all. They were considered miracles, sure, but it was done. In fact, their own religious teachings prophesied that the one who was going to be the great leader would die and come back from the dead. And that was not even something that was necessarily remembered particularly by the followers—I’ll try to avoid that word—because that was also the case with most of the many religious—perhaps today they would be labeled cults, that were around at that time. They had saviors of the people who were born of virgins under great stars, who died, who were buried, who rose again. Your history accounts do not make secrets of this, and in the larger picture, it’s a part of the greater plan.

Nonetheless, Jesus’ body is put in the tomb. It’s a very upsetting time for the friends. They go off to comfort one another, to take care of the things that over the previous few days had been put aside, to try to rebuild their lives again.

Right here. The first resurrection of tonight’s story. They went to rebuild, to keep going. What they did not do was say, He’s gone. I will go too. Recognizing the importance of life, you rise from your death, because you choose to keep going.

Very early the next morning, some of the dearest and closest of friends, Miriam—Mary, you would say—and others went to the tomb, and as they’re getting closer, they’re very shocked. Why?

The stone is rolled away.

S: The stone is moved. What stone?

The stone that sealed the tomb.

S: A large stone? Sealing up the cave, the tomb entrance. It’s been moved away. So, what does this one—who has been a follower of Jesus, very, very close, [with] a spiritual perspective, aware of the power of this one according to the fulfillment of the prophesies as they had been given, prophesies which said, “This one of whom we speak, the light and the power that’s here to come, will rise from the dead. Death will not hold him.”—What does she say? She says, “Oh my goodness, they’ve robbed the tomb.” She does not say, “Ah, sure enough. As prophesied, rose again.” No. She said, “We’ve been robbed!” Second resurrection.

One of the choices that you have when faced with death is to immediately fall back into the patterns of your old self, to forget what you know in your heart, and fall back into what you know in your head. This is a rotten society we live in. Look, they’ve gone and stolen the body.

She runs off to tell a couple of the disciples who, of course, do not quite believe her. And then she runs back while they just sort of meander to see what’s going on. As she’s standing there, she turns around and she sees somebody, recognizing immediately the gardener. And she says, have you done something with this body that was here? Do you know what happened? I love that. The Magdalene. You know the stories. So close. She’s horrified. She’s upset. She’s convinced this is what reality has created. This is what has happened. The body has been stolen. And when she notices somebody sort of hovering around the edges, she turns and immediately accuses. “What have you done with my Lord? Do you have any idea what’s happened here?”

And we’re about to have the next resurrection. Staring this gardener in the face—gardeners, pig farmers, you know the story—she’s waiting for the reply. And he looks her in the face and says, “Miriam.” And she knows. “My Lord.” Very important thing happened right there. Did you get it? She did not recognize him. She thought he was the gardener. It was when he spoke her name. The magic there. Don’t forget that. I’ll get to it in a moment.

Now, the first thing that I’d like to ask you is, Why ever would he come back without that radiant, glorified self? Why look like the help in the garden?

Well, as he was concerned about someone taking care of his mother, just before he died, perhaps he was […] because he knew Miriam would be terribly distraught, and he came to be there for her in that moment.

S: In disguise, do you think?

To show her something she could accept so that she could begin to relate.

S: I would tell you otherwise. Frank.

The resurrected body would be the potential of the form. It was much more than the body ever was. It was the life essence that had been there, not the body, and therefore it was not needed by form, and therefore it looked different than what she would recognize.

S: Indeed it did look different. It did not look quite recognizable. But that’s not quite where I’m going with it either. Aye.

[…] relate to it better.

S: And that indeed is in there. I’m not trying to get you to just go on and on and on here. I will get there.

She was not expecting, and so she did not see. She was not ready for more so she did not have it. Her reality was, the body had been stolen and probably one of the people who work here knows what was going on. And as a result her reality blinded her to the greater reality that was right in front of her. And what cut through? The sound of the voice. Even your translations give the word in Aramaic, her language. Not the common language of the area, it was a very personal word he said. It was a word, certainly, the gardener would have known. It was the word that a very dear friend would have known. It was the equivalent of saying, “My love.”

The resurrection of memory that allows the translation of reality. And that’s a hard one. To touch into the frequency that allows you to open up.

Now, I want to talk just a bit about what Jesus did in this resurrected, no longer dead, state. What are the sorts of things that the one who says, you can do these same things, who gives life as an example, who allowed divinity to shine, what example can you receive from his actions right after death? In the very same way that we spoke about what we could receive from the actions right before.

One of the first things, you have already recognized. He recognized that he had friends who needed comfort, and he went to them. Sure enough, without a doubt, they did not recognize him.

Are you willing to go without recognition to do what you need to do? That is an absolute sign of having moved from one life to a greater one. So many do nothing without recognition, sometimes to the point of stepping on another to make sure that you get it.

There are a few really lovely stories attached to things that Jesus did. He showed up now and again, just like that, showed up. Why would he do that? Well, I’ll tell you why. Because he could. There they are, gathered together to discuss what’s going to be coming up. “What are we going to do now. Look, the women are going nuts. They’re thinking they’re seeing him. You know how they are. And you know what’s going to happen to us. They’re going to come after us next. So what should we do?” “Well, first lock the door, bar it. Do not allow anybody else to come into our little group. Trust no one.” Lovely human response, isn’t it? When the going gets tough, the tough go hiding. They run. You know how that one works.

And into their midst, out of the blue—or the rock, as the case may be—stands Jesus. In this particular time, most of you start getting the story of Thomas. Yes? “Oh, sure, we’ve heard that Jesus has been seen by many, but I’ve not seen him. Well, speak of the devil, there he is!” Not! And [Jesus] says, “You will not believe until you see. Blessed are those who believe and do not see,” which is another resurrection—moving from that place that the only reality you have is what comes in through your senses that fool you so often anyway. How many times have you walked into a house, and you knew that there was something absolutely lovely baking, and you followed your nose to a candle. Oops, let’s change reality here. How many times have you looked at something, and you absolutely knew what it was you were looking at until you put your spectacles on, got closer or understood it differently.

To move from the world in which ‘when you see it you believe it’ to ‘you will believe it, and then you’ll see it?’ That is indeed a passage from the old to the new.

“Show me your hands, and your feet and your side, then I will believe.” “Go ahead, touch them. Here they are.” Good story. Right along those lines. So a few of the disciples—in a very small group, because they figured out that if they walked in small groups, they would not attract attention—are walking down the road, and they realize there’s somebody walking along behind them. And this person behind them says, “You know, you guys seem a bit upset.” So out of control of how they feel, and their perceptual reality, the death of the old has been so traumatic for them that they cannot move forward into the new. And it’s so obvious that somebody just following along behind them notices, and says, “What’s going on?” And they just turn on him, and say, “Where have you been? Are you not aware of what has been going on around here? They took our teacher, accused him of horrible things. They have killed him, and we are running for our lives.”

Such a statement of human reality, right there in that little packet. Things did not go the way I thought they would, and so I’m out of here.

Well, they got to talking, and eventually made it back to town, and said, “Why don’t you come on up, and you can have dinner with us. It’s just something simple, because after all, we’re very important people. We’ve been involved in a horrible mistake, and we’re on the run now.” And that stranger said, “Oh, I would love to share with you.” You recognizing the story?

So doing the fair share, the stranger took up the bread and broke it. Can you imagine the silence that descended at that moment when perhaps the stranger’s hands were shown? Or the true light was allowed to shine? “Master, what are you doing here? You’ve been hearing us griping all this time, and you’ve not said a thing.” Aye, those were the words: “Master, what are you doing here?” “Well, why would I not be here with my friends? Have you forgotten the prophesies? I said this wasn’t the end, I’ll be back.”

Another resurrection. What sort of resurrection would that be? It’s your turn now. There they are running for their lives, because they have lost the war.

A belief and a hope.

S: Good.

Because they see that the promise has now been fulfilled, and the life that they had expected to lead is now possible.

S: Well done. Releasing of the beliefs that were dragging them down, and the opening again into a new life of hope.

A group of the followers are out, back at work—I love these stories—back at work, tossing out nets. Some stranger, you know how it is, you’re minding your own business, doing your work, people are always trying to tell you what to do. What do they know? If they knew anything about this sort of business, they’d be in it. But oh, no, there it is. Just when you’re doing what you’ve got to do to survive, somebody’s got to come along and tell you how you should be doing it. And sure enough, this is the case. They’re casting out their nets. They’re having horrible luck. They see someone out on the shore trying to get their attention. He says, “Cast your nets on the other side.” They did and, of course, were overloaded. And realized immediately with whom they were dealing.

Now I suppose you could say that’s a resurrection of humor. Showing up, knowing you won’t be recognized when you’re least expected. Sliding into a conversation, waiting to see how long it takes someone to notice, knowing that the only way is if you show something of the old personality. It always requires that, doesn’t it? Give me proof in something I can see and recognize. Give it to me in my language, in my words. If you are he, show me your scars. So, well, you know, perhaps that’s where humanity tends to get that need to hold on to hurts and pains, because you never know when it’s going to be proof. I’ve lived quite a life. I deserve to have some happiness, because look at my scars. And so, in order to make a connection with his friends, to comfort and to prove—the two jobs of service: to bring comfort; to bring hope, which usually requires proof—he takes the flesh of the old, and retains the only thing that’s recognizable, the proof that there was humanity in that divinity, and now and again flashes them at opportune moments. You see, humor, don’t you think. All right, let’s see. How about when I’m breaking bread? How about we help these people out with something I can do at the time. Maybe it will remind them of other experiences like this. Hey, try the fishing on the other side of the boat. Uh-oh, must be.

To give comfort. To give hope. To provide needs, because what they were experiencing was grief, and depression and poverty in all of its most cancerous versions. The death of that grief, the death of the depression, the death of the lack for the return of the hope. The resurrection of life begins with hope.

And if that was the end of the story, it’s a powerful one. If that’s all that happened, but it’s not. He instructed them. He showed himself to more and more, eventually hundreds, because in order for the important work he was doing with them to have an effect, there needed to be renewal amongst those who needed so much to believe again.

What’s going to happen to your work when you’re gone? What happens now to your work when you’re gone? What happens to your life when you’re leaving a room? Are people left with a presence that has touched them, that has brought comfort, hope, love, that has recognized from the most heartfelt levels? Do those in the room feel saddened at the absence of you, or are they rather glad they don’t have to bother any more, because your presence does not give what is needed? You add to death instead of life.

Jesus recognized that a very important opportunity was before him. These who had been as close as brothers—and a couple were—needed to know what to do. So Jesus told them, “Listen, I’m not going to be around much longer. I’m just here to let you know that it’s not over. It’s not over. I am going to return, but I’m going to send you help. A comfort. In fact, a comforter.” And they were concerned, because they do not get cold at night. Just seeing if you’re awake.

I know that for Christianity the miracle of Easter is that the tomb was empty, and that the gardener, the fisherman, the waiter, and the friend was Jesus. That the prophesy was fulfilled that death did not hold him. As he said, this is not the end. And although there is a lot of perhaps interesting metaphysical sort of discussions you could get into about a resurrected body and what it can and cannot do, and why they were not recognizing him, and what the nature of the personality essence that required the scarring and so forth as a means of being able to give the proof, it’s not the point. It’s a story of triumphing over the worst kinds of death, because he chose to return to his friends for two purposes. To comfort and give hope, as previously mentioned. But there’s another: to activate, because, beloved ones—and here is where it becomes bunny rabbits and chickens and eggs; here is where the connection of death moves into commercial American fertility rituals in a way that’s safe and acceptable—he came to assure them that this is not the end. There is more. To activate them, because simply feeling good again is not rebirth. No longer being upset is not being reborn. Not grieving does not mean you are healed. Not spouting off the old does not mean you are a part of the new. And it was important enough for Jesus to bodily—which is not pleasant nor easy—to bodily walk those paths again, to find his friends and say, It’s in your hands now. Do not forget, you’re not alone. Help is on the way. Now, go. Tell what you have seen. Not bad for somebody who spent all of his life saying, Do not speak of what I have done here. Tell what you have seen. He gave them the charge.

And you know the story. They bucked up, went forth, teaching their experience until finally the comforter did arrive.

They changed frequency, initiated into a new life. They had a personal ascension experience. They took on the essence of that which is holy, and requires no form. They were able to function through it and create miracles. The old was gone. No hope for a new until they were able to move beyond their grief. Move beyond their reality. Move beyond the conventional means of functioning in their world at that time, and it allowed them to see more.

The metaphysics of it is, One Heart opened the door to One Mind. The old had passed, and the new was being born. In your life, in your life, in your life some of you are still holding on to the stone at the tomb. “No! Do not open it. I like being dead. Don’t open this door.” Or maybe you’re holding on to the terrible grief that you have experienced because you have lost whatever it was that made you you.

You can live that way. You have that choice. Or you can choose to rise from the death you have been living in. And you’re not alone. You will be comforted. Choose life. Choose life. It’s time. So get on with it.

Happy Easter. Glochanumora.