Soul Matters: Book 4, Monocracy Managerie

Phil got to work early to begin the process of transitioning someone else into his job. His secretary had been crying, Phil noticed, but he ignored it. There were many tasks to be tracked, personnel files to be updated, and ongoing work to be monitored. He hurried through it to be free in the afternoon.

Near lunch, he got a call. Hoping it was Donna or Pastor Mike, he seized the phone. Instead it was Betty’s lawyer. He wanted to know Phil’s intentions for splitting up the assets. He had already worked out a proposal for Phil and wanted to know where to send it.

The next call was from Pastor Mike. Donna would be at his office around 3pm. Phil said he would show up at 3:15.

Phil cruised the church’s parking lot to make sure Betty’s car wasn’t there, and parked in back so she wouldn’t notice his car should she show up.

He was ushered into Pastor Mike’s office. It was the same office the previous pastor occupied, but Pastor Mike redecorated it to a more subdued décor. A plain desk was across from the door, and simple landscape pictures hung on the walls. A bookcase dominated the left wall, and a picture window was on the right.

“Hi,” Donna said as he entered, and she hurried to hug him.

Phil held her and was once again reminded of her as a little girl needing comfort after a nightmare. He held her trembling body long ago, and this was not much different. She was trembling today as well.

The long hug ended, and Donna pushed back and wiped her eyes while offering Phil a smile, “I’m okay, Dad. I’m ready to do what it takes.”

Pastor Mike sat in his chair behind the desk observing the scene, and Phil knew the man wasn’t so dense as to have missed the importance of their exchange.

“I think we need to level with you,” Phil said and approached. He held a chair for Donna and seated himself next to her.

“I think you’re right,” Pastor Mike replied as he ran an unsteady hand through his thinning hair.

“The short of it is Donna has been targeted by a demon named Azazel,” Phil told him. “Her protection from him ended up being Ishtar. She’s an ancient --”

“I know of Ishtar,” Pastor Mike interrupted. “I also know of Azazel. He made a couple of appearances in the Old Testament. I’m curious, though, as to why he has targeted your daughter.”

Phil smiled his salesman smile, “It’s a bit complicated. In essence, it has to do with my own spiritual challenges. They seek to defeat me by going after Donna.”

“Can you clarify who wants to defeat you, and what those spiritual challenges are?”

Phil dropped his smile and said, “I’d rather not. Suffice it to say, ha-satan guards every level of spiritual progression.”

Pastor Mike half-smiled and replied, “You know your Bible, Phil. I don’t think I’ve heard the term ‘ha-satan’ since I was at seminary.”

Donna interjected, “What does it mean?”

Pastor Mike answered, “The Hebrews believe ‘satan’ is a title. The word itself translates as ‘adversary.’ Each of us needs an adversary to defeat. It proves our right to be at the next level of spirit.”

“Right,” Phil confirmed. “My challenge right now is to determine why idolatry arose during Enoch’s time. In correcting this imbalance in myself, I may move up the ladder of development.”

“Interesting,” Pastor Mike’s sparse eyebrows rose to furrow his blotchy forehead. “The Patriarchs were a specialty of mine years ago.”

Phil smiled -- a true smile this time. Manuel told him at the beginning of their relationship, archangels were in charge of synchronicity. This appeared to be one. Yet, how could Phil work it so Pastor Mike became an ally?

“We’ll need to get back to the topic of the Patriarchs another time,” Phil said. “Right now, Donna is my concern. She must have a better defense than she does.”

“Do you have one in mind?” the pastor asked, his eyebrows still arched.

“I do,” Phil asserted. “It’s actually an Apache shamanic system which grants a person access to discreet levels of power.”

Pastor Mike’s face twisted into a frown, “A pagan tribal technique? You must be joking.”

“Bottom line, pastor, it works,” Phil told him. “I’ve been using it for months. It helps define for me where I am. More importantly, it allows me to shift to where I need to be.”

Pastor Mike was unconvinced, “You have found an ancient roadmap to the realm of Spirit. Or so you imagine.”

“Not only Spirit,” Phil went on, “but of the ch’i or prana levels, and of the unconscious. It is a sophisticated system. And I didn’t find it. I was taught it.”

“Fine,” Pastor Mike abruptly conceded. “How does it work?”

Phil took the plunge, “I’ll need to lead Donna, and you too if you choose, through a meditation. After we’re done, you’ll see for yourself.”

There was a long pause before Pastor Mike said, “Only if we join in a prayer for guidance and Divine protection first.”

“Done.”

After Pastor Mike led them through a short prayer, Phil asked them to quiet their minds. Next he guided them through a walk along a trail in the forest to a staircase leading down to an archway. The archway was filled with a silver curtain of energy, he told them. When he instructed them to step through the archway, the mood in the room deepened.

He continued, “You’ll notice a profound shift has happened, and it’s likely you’re disoriented. Just stand still and notice what kind of ground you’re on. When you have it established, let the landscape paint itself away from your feet. The Apaches call this your Medicine Area.”

Then he led them to find the Sacred Area within the Medicine Area. Next he led them through the ‘rooted self’ exercise. Finally, he decided to pull Manuel into the game.

“See the wall out there?” Phil directed their attention to the wall separating their Medicine Areas from the world of Spirit. “Pull it closer towards you and focus a request. Request the Archangel Manuel to attend you.”

When Phil could feel a shift in the room, and knew their intent was focused clearly, he said, “Now imagine an opening in the wall, and the Archangel Manuel will be there.”

They did so. Phil went on, “Ask him to tell you which synchronicities in your life he was responsible for, and which were the ones you missed the lesson he was trying to teach you.”

Phil let the moments pass until he felt another shift in the room’s energy. Then he directed them, “Close the wall, and come back through the arch. Up the stairs. Down your trail. And back to your body.”

Soon they took deep breaths and opened their eyes. Pastor Mike said, “Quite an interesting experience.”

Donna spoke next, “Manuel put me in touch with the Zen people.”

Pastor Mike snorted a laugh, “And he was instrumental in my spiritual emergency. I’ll need to study the lesson part of it, though. He wasn’t too clear on it.”

Phil waited for them to finish chatting about their experiences before he said, “The trail represents your unconscious mind. The stairs represent the energy of the Universal Life-force. Once you pass through the archway, you’re in the world of Spirit. Now, the strongest defense you have is to be able to draw energy from each realm. For the short-term, you’ll need to keep going through these realms in meditation and get comfortable in each one. Also, notice when you pass through invisible curtains of energy along the trail and down the stairs. Each sub-region gives you access to a unique aspect of that realm’s power.”

The discussion quickly devolved to Phil drawing a map of the trail and stairs. He explained the different bands of energy. They questioned; he answered. Hours passed. Yet neither Pastor Mike nor Donna became fatigued. Phil was. It had been a hectic and stressful couple of days.

“We must place symbols off the trail and off the stairs to help us connect to the energy-states we may need here, in this reality,” Pastor Mike was summarizing.

“Yes,” Phil answered and rubbed his temples. “You want to be able to shift from consensus-reality to these specific altered-states on demand. Particularly, Donna,” he turned to her. “You must be able to draw energy from the physical, Force and Spirit realms simultaneously. Then form a protective bubble around yourself with these combined energies. Devils cannot penetrate this kind of shield.”

“I’ll need to practice,” she replied with subdued seriousness.

“Tell me about it,” Phil smiled. “The Archangel Michael gave me a bad time about how poor my defenses were, a while ago.”

They both looked at Phil with quizzical expectation. He grimaced at letting this bit of trivia slip and added, “Some other time.”

The intercom buzzed. Pastor Mike answered it, and the secretary said, “Donna’s mother is here to speak with you.”

“Uh-oh,” Phil grunted. “I’d better be going. Is there a back door?”

Pastor Mike showed Phil out. It was dusk, and Phil returned to his hotel, ate a solitary dinner, and fell asleep quickly. Sleep, though, was not secure from intrusion. In fact, sleep provided other openings in consciousness for spiritual beings to exploit. Manuel showed up in Phil’s dreamscape.

“Hey, Phil,” Manuel called to him from the end of a long tunnel. “Come this way. We can peek in on Isaac. He’s rather boring, but the codependent chaos around him is fascinating. Come. Follow me.”

Phil knew those commands fit with a different story, but in a dream-state, he couldn’t track the source. He forgot about it as he plodded down the tunnel to where Manuel awaited.

“Mesopotamia was what is now Iraq,” Manuel said as they marched into bright sunlight. “Although the Hebrews called this area Aram-Naharaim, or the Haran area. Well, literally it means ‘Aram of the rivers.’ Anyway, it’s the Tigris-Euphrates region.”

Phil’s consciousness stirred enough to inquire, “Is this at all important?”

“Of course,” Manuel said in mock hurt. “Everything I tell you is important. Make note: Syria is the Greek version of Aramea. Aram, again. Syria is the northern part of Haran. With me so far?”

“So far,” Phil replied and dressed himself for the desert in robes and headdress. Manuel was already prepared for the incessant heat.

“Isaac was reportedly forty when he took Rebecca for a wife,” Manuel was saying as he marched into the trackless desert. “By the way, Mount Moriah, where Abraham was scheduled to kill Isaac, wasn’t really Jerusalem. Jerusalem was already a fortified town at the time, during one of the early occupations of the hill country. But no matter, the tradition arose as it did, like so many traditions, with no relevance to actual facts. Mount Moriah was in the opposite direction.”

“Where are we going?”

“To see a most important event. It’s just over this hill.”

They marched on for a few more minutes before Manuel asked, “Why do you think Esau was Isaac’s favorite?”

Phil paused to consider the question. Other than Esau was the first born of the twins Esau and Jacob, there seemed to be no reason. Esau was a hunter and rough outdoorsman. Jacob was quiet and shrewd, the favorite of his mother.

“I don’t know.”

“Well,” Manuel began, “it’s the old disdain for city-dwellers. Esau embodied the spirit of the nomad. Jacob did not.”

They topped a ridge, and a large encampment stretched below them.

“Isaac’s camp,” Manuel explained. “It’s time for Isaac to give his blessing to Esau.”

Phil remembered this pivotal scene from Genesis. Esau was to be tricked out of his inheritance by Jacob and Rebecca.

“Why is the camp so large?” Phil asked. He expected a much smaller one based on the story.

“Esau is already ruler of the Edomites,” the angel said. “Jacob is already the titular head of the Israelites. The story in Genesis is a metaphor. The established Edomites were usurped by the Israelites. Older brother (the Edomites) tricked into submission by the younger brother (the Israelites).”

Phil nodded his understanding. The metaphor made sense.

“What’s important here,” Manuel went on, “is the balance between male and female power.”

“Female trickery,” Phil corrected. “All the women in Patriarchal times achieved their will through trickery -- Rachel, Rebecca, Leah, Tamar, the list goes on.”

“It’s another metaphor,” Manuel explained as they reached the gate of the encampment. After the guards allowed them to pass at the angel’s greeting, Manuel went on, “These women were intelligent. In reality, they argued their cases rather than employing trickery.”

At the center of the camp, a meeting was under way. A tired, old, obviously blind man presided over the meeting. Phil surmised this must be Isaac. On his right was the ruddy Esau. On his left was the thinner dark-haired Jacob. A stately woman in blue robes was addressing the hundred or more people at the meeting.

“Rebecca,” Manuel whispered. “It’s what I wanted you to hear.”

Rebecca spoke, “If you want what you have, Esau is your man. If you want more, Jacob can lead you to it. Both my sons are exceptional in their own ways. Esau is strong and can help you hold what you have. Jacob is smart and innovative. He can help you change.”

A man called out from the crowd, “But there is only one blessing. Isaac may only bless one of them.”

Rebecca turned to the man and answered, “Why? Why can he not bless them both? I carried them both in my womb, and Isaac has two hands.”

The crowd laughed, and Rebecca smiled at them. Phil could see she was well respected. She placed her hands on her matronly hips and went on, “God’s blessing is on us all anyway. When you stand and watch the sun’s red slide into night, do you not feel God in your hearts? When one of your children or grandchildren smiles at you through his tears -- and you know he’ll be all right, do you not feel God’s blessing? It’s all around us. It’s in us. And when Isaac passes his blessing, he truly passes nothing. He merely reminds us of what we have. We have the empty cup, and God fills it each day.”

Old Isaac grinned a toothless grin and extended both his hands. Esau and Jacob knelt before him. The crowd cheered. Manuel commented, “This is what an in-balance patriarchy looks like.”

Phil nodded his head thinking, ‘A mother pleading successfully for her sons. Why not a father pleading successfully for his daughter?’

Manuel read the question in Phil’s mind, “Azazel is having no luck. He’s becoming quite frustrated.”

“Can Jehovah order him to leave Donna alone?”

“Yep,” Manuel answered as he led them back to the time tunnel, which brought them here.

“But Ishtar couldn’t,” Phil wondered.

“She’s not a currently active mask of God,” Manuel explained. “The retired ones have less power. The active ones are filled with gigawatts of belief.”

“Gigawatts?”

“Whatever,” Manuel snapped. “You don’t have a word to express units of spiritual energy.”

Phil jumped to the obvious solution to the quest he was commanded to fulfill. “I guess it’s time to visit Jehovah.”

“If you want him to order Azazel around, you’ll need to bring Donna. He won’t be able to do it otherwise.”

Phil could see the logic, but he wasn’t too glib about bringing his daughter. “Can she bring Ishtar?”

“Bad idea,” Manuel replied. “Jehovah is a jealous god, remember?”

“Yeah,” Phil mused remembering his recent encounters with Jehovah.

“Go back to sleep. You might be having a busy day tomorrow. And, by the way, don’t have Donna or Pastor Mike or anyone call me anymore. It was pretty annoying. Bilocation and all.”

Phil chuckled. Then he slipped back into a dreamless sleep. When he awoke, the dream sequence was there, fresh in his mind. He replayed it a few times before he opened his eyes.