Tag Archives: heavenly Jesus

The Real Jesus

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Dear Christian,

When you became a Christian, did you meet the man who wandered around Galilee 2,000 years and who, according to ancient stories, died on a Roman cross? Was it an actual human being you met at the moment you ‘saw the light’ (the clue’s in the term)? Or was it something – an emotional experience perhaps – that you interpreted as the presence of a heavenly, supernatural being? If you’re honest you’ll acknowledge you didn’t meet a real person but felt something that you took to be one.

When you pray to Jesus, exactly who are you praying to? Is it the man who drifted around Galilee 2,000 years ago? Are your thoughts magically transported back in time so he hears you, somehow or other, in his head? No? So do you pray to a supernatural, celestial Jesus who for the past 2,000 years has been sitting at the right hand of God in a mythical never, never land? I’m guessing you’ll say this is the Jesus you commune with (while disputing my calling heaven never, never land).

When you worship Jesus are your honeyed words whisked back 2,000 years to sustain a man who meandered around Galilee spouting profundities before getting himself killed? Or do you envisage your prayers reaching a supernatural figure living out there in space or maybe in another dimension? (C’mon, you know it’s the latter.)

When you say Jesus was present at the creation of the world as described at the start of Genesis, do you mean the man who, billions of years later, would roam around Galilee? Or do you mean a celestial  Jesus who was a part of the Godhead in some mysterious, inexplicable way? (I’m guessing, again, it’s this latter.)

When you say Jesus will judge the living and the dead at the End of the Age, do you refer to the man who lived 2,000 years ago, trudging around Galilee? Or do you mean some mystical manifestation of this character who’s eager to separate the sheep from the goats while hovering in the sky prior to massacring the goats? (It’s this version, isn’t it.)

In the Bible, did Paul meet the flesh-and-blood man who had slogged around Galilee a few years earlier? Or did he hallucinate a celestial being as a flash of light? (It was the latter, wasn’t it.)

When you speak of the Jesus who died on the cross to save you from your sins, do you quote the individual who supposedly drifted round Galilee 2,000 years ago? Or do you more often reference Paul, who never met him and knows nothing of his supposed earthly life? (You know which.)

Yet despite your belief in mystical, spiritual versions of Jesus, you are adamant he was not a mythical being. Not at the start of time, not at the end, nor in Paul’s writings; not in your own conversion, not in your prayers or worship and especially not in your own inner experience of him. No, he was, according to you, a very real person.

Yet there are no signs you believe in this historical Jesus, the man who allegedly roamed around Galilee two millennia ago. You ignore him and his teaching if favour of a celestial superman. How do we know you ignore him? All the examples above for a start, but there’s also the way you don’t do what he says. You don’t love your neighbour and enemies alike, you don’t sell all you have to give to the poor, you don’t give to everyone who asks, you don’t despise riches, you don’t refrain from judging others. You rarely turn the other cheek or go the extra mile and you are not prepared to forgive endlessly. You don’t accept that this man believed the End of Age was coming in his own time (or at least that his script-writers did) nor that he was disastrously wrong. It’s the cosmic super-being you go for every time.

How very strange. Cognitive dissonance is a powerful phenomenon, don’t you think?

In which Howard visits Heaven and talks to Jesus

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I recently finished reading My Descent Into Death and the Message of Love Which brought Me Back by Howard Storm, in which he recounts events surrounding his serious illness in the 1980s. This, he is convinced, caused his death after which some very dark beings, who at first he mistook for deranged medical staff, attempted to drag him off to a very sinister place. Fortuitously, Jesus and his angels were on hand to intervene and rescued hell-bound Howard.

Perhaps in my Evangelical days I would’ve lapped up stuff like this, but not now. A Christian friend – the same one who lent me the book I wrote about here – bought me. I promised I’d read it but what a struggle it was.

Once rescued by Jesus, Howard felt divested of his ego and overcome by love. He underwent a life review and was ever so gently ticked off for all the times he was less than kind. Instead of enjoying this state of bliss, however, Howard took the opportunity to bombard Jesus and the angels with banal questions, which given Howard’s comatose state they had time to answer at great length over many hours (which is how long it takes to read about them.)

When he came round and discovered he wasn’t actually as dead as he thought he was, Howard was a changed man. Once back on his feet, he joined a succession of churches so he could share his experience. When they didn’t fully appreciate how he’d really spent time with actual Jesus, he trained for the ministry himself. He has been a pastor now for several decades, regaling people with the tale of his encounter with fantasy heavenly beings.

Undoubtedly, Storm’s experience was powerfully real to him, so much so it changed his life on his return to reality. As I read My Descent Into Death, however, I couldn’t help but feel I’d heard it all before: in Paul’s account of his imaginary visits to heaven and his encounters with a resurrected Jesus. These were probably not Near Death Experiences (NDEs) – though who’s to say – but, like Storm’s, brain-induced hallucinations.

As scientist Britt Hartley explains in the video sent by koseighty a while back, we now have a much greater understanding of NDEs; they are culturally determined hallucinations induced by the brain as it begins its shutdown. Hartley is clear that under stress the brain is more than capable of creating reassuring visions for itself.

But like Howard Storm’s, Paul’s ‘revelations’ are more than a mere sighting of Jesus. Paul too has a long discourse with the heavenly being conjured up by and in his own brain. He imagines Jesus explains to him how salvation works (in a mighty complicated way) in the same way Howard does. I’m sure this discourse, like Howard’s, did not take place during the visions but were worked out later, over time, as Paul, and Howard, interpreted what the inner-visions ‘must’ have meant.

Oddly though, given they both encountered the same character, it’s difficult to reconcile the messages each was given by him. Storm’s is of a mushy universal love, devoid of the demands and convoluted theology of Paul’s Jesus. Strange that the Jesus Christ who is, according to Hebrews 13:8, the same yesterday, today and forever, has modified and softened his message in the two thousand years between Paul’s and Howard’s revelations. It couldn’t be because Howard’s is the result of his conditioning by a modern American culture that sees Jesus as a shiny, white-robed figure surrounded by angels who dispenses nothing but all-embracing love and happy-clappiness, could it? It surely could.