I tell you the truth,” Jesus answered, “this very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.” - Matthew 26:34. Also Luke 22:34. Mark 14:30. John 13:38.

Adyashanti talked about this during his July intensive this year (I have listened to the two first session on CD.)

As so much in the New Testament, it is a beautiful expression of what we are likely to encounter on the path.

I find this for myself in small daily situations, and also in the overall process of recognizing what I am and taking the consequences of it in my daily life.

Mainly, I notice I am caught up in a story. I find what is more true for me. I live from that for a while. Get caught up in the story again even if I know better. Shift into living from what is more true for me. And so on.

John is, as so often, even more to the point:

Then Jesus answered, “Will you really lay down your life for me? I tell you the truth, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times!” - John 13:38

Of course, for most of us it happens more than three times. But it doesn’t have to.

(The illustration is an Ethiopian painting from the 1600s.)

Jesus said to him, “The foxes have holes, and the birds of the sky have nests, but the son of man has nowhere to lay his head.” - Luke 9:58

Again, this can be understood in several ways.

It can be taken literally. Jesus was a wanderer with no home to call his own. He gave up his family, career, house and everything else to give his life to God and teaching.

Also, as human beings none of us have a place to lay our head. All is in flux. There is no solid ground anywhere. Everything is a guest - this body, the house we live in, this planet, this universe.

Finally, when we recognize the emptiness of everything, there is clearly nowhere to lay ones head. All is awareness itself. All is ephemeral. Insubstantial. Similar to a holograph where there is form but no substance. There is quite literally nowhere to lay ones head, and there is no head to lay anywhere.

The experience of this may be of the bottom falling out of everything. The sense of “ground” that comes from taking stories are real and substantial, and what they refer to as real and substantial, falls away. What is left is all as awareness itself. No-thing appearing as something, yet without ever being anything but no-thing. A brilliant emptiness everything arises as. The ground falls away, revealing all as Ground. The Ground of awareness, of no-thing appearing as something.

It may sound strange and far removed from how most people experience existence. But it is really there in all of our experience all the time. It is just temporarily covered up by taking stories as substantial and real.

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From New York Times today:

JERUSALEM — A three-foot-tall tablet with 87 lines of Hebrew that scholars believe dates from the decades just before the birth of Jesus is causing a quiet stir in biblical and archaeological circles, especially because it may speak of a messiah who will rise from the dead after three days.

If such a messianic description really is there, it will contribute to a developing re-evaluation of both popular and scholarly views of Jesus, since it suggests that the story of his death and resurrection was not unique but part of a recognized Jewish tradition at the time.

Of course, the Jesus story has parallels with not only Jewish myths, but also myths from other earlier traditions of that time and region.

Some examples are given in The Jesus Mysteries by Tim Freke and Peter Gandi where they outline the following parallels of the Osiris-Dionysus and Jesus stories:

• Osiris-Dionysus is God made flesh, the savior and “Son of God.”
• His father is God and his mother is a mortal virgin.
• He is born in a cave or humble cowshed on December 25 before three shepherds.
• He offers his followers the chance to be born again through the rites of baptism.
• He miraculously turns water into wine at a marriage ceremony.
• He rides triumphantly into town on a donkey while people wave palm leaves to honor him.
• He dies at Eastertime as a sacrifice for the sins of the world.
• After his death he descends to hell, then on the third day he rises from the dead and ascends to heaven in glory.
• His followers await his return as the judge during the Last Days.
• His death and resurrection are celebrated by a ritual meal of bread and wine, which symbolize his body and blood.

Why is it so? The obvious answer is that the Jesus myth picked up elements of existing myths to make it more familiar to the people of the time.

But another answer, as Freke and Gandi points out, is that these stories are about an inner truth more than an outer - historic - truth. They reflect an inner process of growing and waking up.

And that is why similar story elements not only appear in traditions of that place and time, but around the world in many different cultures, and also in dreams and visions of people today.

None of this really touch whether Jesus was a historic figure or not. He may well have been, and the specific events of his life may or may not have followed the lines of the Jesus story as we know it today.

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The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.

But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!

No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

Matthew 6:22-24

This whole passage is interesting. From a conventional point of view, the two first paragraphs don’t make much sense, and the third is taken literally and maybe seen as overly harsh.

Yet when there is a shift into headlessness or Big Mind/Heart, it becomes clear and is revealed as a beautiful and true passage.

The single eye is awareness itself, that which all happens within, to and as. When it notices itself, all is revealed as luminous both metaphorically (clear insight into what we are) and literally (sense of luminosity in all there is).

If it doesn’t notice itself, there is darkness. We are confused about who and what we are, and also don’t notice the luminosity inherent in all form and experience. This confusion is the root of all that is conventionally seen as evil, including all suffering and unease.

We cannot serve two masters. We cannot be confused and identify with content of awareness, and at the same time notice what we are.

Or more accurately, we can - and inevitably do - for a large stretch of the awakening process. Both may be present simultaneously to some degree, with one shifting into the foreground and then the other. But there comes a time when we have to make a clear decision.

Am I going to continue to indulge in whatever comes out of this mistaken identity, even as I know it is a mistaken identity, or am I going to wholehearted give myself to what I already am?

And this shift may involve strong resolve which is reflected in the somewhat harsh language of the passage above.

I thought this was cute. Why not look good for Jesus?

Seems that it would be part of any comprehensive and integral approach

And it is always interesting to explore where I find the genuine truth in this, for myself. Where do I find the genuine truth in looking good for Jesus?

For me, it has to do with inviting guests.

Any content of awareness is a guest, so if we take a visit by Jesus to happen within content of awareness, we can invite it in.

We can do certain (second person) practices, find receptivity of the three centers, and more. We can invite Jesus in as alive presence in its many forms such just alive presence, or its aspect of luminosity, or infinite love, or wisdom, or the fiery heart quality I find when I do Christian practices, or for others, maybe as a vision or a voice, or something else. Or just the good old taste of an open heart at our human level.

And if we take Jesus, or Christ, or the combination, to be a noticing of what we are (that which experiences happens within, to and as), then that is also something that can be invited in. We can prepare the situation, as best as we can. And that guest may come as well, or not.

So by inviting in Jesus as any or all of these guests, we want to look our best. We want to look good for Jesus, inviting him in for a visit.

Of course, Jesus, as anything else, lives his own life, on his own schedule. And that is also part of the game.

I am reading in a couple of books by Tim Freke and Peter Gandy on gnostic Christianity, where the basic message is that the Jesus story is a teaching story, a reflection of our own path, a reflection of who and what we really are.

On the bus this afternoon, as I was exploring this for myself, a woman in front of me turned around and asked with great sincerity are you Jesus?

I laughed and said “no” with the message that the conversation was over right there, although she continued with a few questions.

Of course, according to gnostic Christianity, I am Jesus. We all are. The Jesus story mirrors each one of us.

What happened is also another example of living the dream. In this case, the dream of having people showing up at my door expecting me to be able to help them, and me just brushing them off and wanting them to go away.

In the case of the woman on the bus, I could have mentioned that whatever you see in Jesus are qualities you can find in yourself. It would be true, and maybe invited her to explore it for herself. In any case, it would be more friendly than a simple “no” followed by nothing.

I am living that dream in other situations too. What happened on the bus is far from the only time a stranger comes up to me expecting me to have some special insights, and I tend to respond the same way as in the dream, brushing them off.

I started reading The Laughing Jesus today, and have also placed a hold at the library on a few other books by Timothy Freke and Peter Gandy. (Thanks to Peter at the excellent The Seer blog for introducing me to them!)

The book helps differentiate inner and outer truths of Christianty, first going through the outer truths about Jesus and early Christianity, and then the inner truth of the early gnostics and gnostics, or mystics, anywhere. The basics of both is familiar to me, but it is presented in a very clear and insightful way, have some angles that are new to me, and is a joy to read.

In terms of the outer truths of Christianity, it shows the parallels between the early gnostic stories of the God man and the life story of Jesus, the lack of historical evidence for Jesus ever having existed in flesh and blood, and examples of the literalist interpretation of Christianity came into being through the usual politics.

(From the little I know of mainstream scholarship on this subject, it seems that their basic thesis is not too far off, but I am sure there are different takes on many of the details. This is not a book for those interested in exact and nuanced scholarship, and that is not the point of the book either.)

The inner truths of Christianity is that of mystics anywhere and any time, and I am reminded of Douglas Harding and the headless experiments in the simple and elegant ways Freke and Gandy write about it.

Finally, the book is a reminder of looking for the inner truth of any spiritual or religious story, independent of its outer or historical truth (or, most often, lack thereof). The historical truth has historical interest, which is well and fine. But the inner truth is about who and what we are, here and now.

Unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of God.
[Mark 10:15]

Some of the ways I find myself more childlike…

• Exploring the sense fields, and the simplicity of noticing what arises in each, how thoughts combine with the others to create gestalts, and how these gestalts are as ephemeral and insubstantial as thoughts themselves when this is seen, and appear very substantial and real when this is not seen.
• Learning to trust what is really here, what I notice and discover through simple practices such as the headless experiments.
• The simplicity of finding myself as awareness, and all that arises as awareness.
• Receptivity of the three centers - view, heart and belly.
• Finding the genuine truths in accusations, joining in with the other.
• Saying yes or no from clarity.
• Not having to defend the truth in any story, nor defend against the truth in any story.
• Making a fool of oneself, through acting from what is alive here now. (As i do with this blog.)
• See thoughts as thoughts.
• See thoughts as tools for this human self to orient and function in the world, and having no value beyond that.
• Not knowing. See thoughts as tools only.
• Willing to be wrong. Exited to be wrong, to move out of familiar views and identities.

Unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of God.
[Mark 10:15]

Much of what I write about here is almost childishly simple. For instance, in the last post, I could have taken the hypothesis angle instead, which is equally true and sounds more scientific. Evolution is a hypothesis, a model, and it has good explanation power so we choose to use it (or not).

But going to our immediate experience makes it more real for us. We see what is true, here and now.

And that truth is childishly simple.

It is the truth of the sense fields, of what arises in each of them, and how thoughts combine with the other to create an appearance of something solid and real.

It is the truth of what arises as inherently free from an I with an Other.

It is the truth of stories as practical tools only, with no more inherent value - or truth - than a hammer or a toothbrush.

It is the truth of finding ourselves as ultimate simplicity, as awakeness, and as the content of awakeness as awakeness itself. This ultimate simplicity which allows and shows up as infinite complexity as well.

There are different literal and metaphorical interpretations of this perplexing statement by Jesus:

If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.

Here is one way of looking at it that makes sense to me:

When we believe in stories, we are identified with them and try to defend and protect them. If someone says something that goes against these, we automatically defend them and create drama around it. We act from a fixed view, a closed heart, reactive emotions.

Yet, when there is a release of identification with these stories, when there is only clarity, there is no need to defend and protect them. We know they have only limited and practical value, we are familiar with the truths in their turnarounds. Instead of defending against what someone says, we can join with it. We see the truth in it.

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Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. (Matthew 5.5)

It’s fun to explore different saying of Jesus, and see what comes up… How is this true for me, in my own experience?

Meekness for me, in this context, means humility, receptivity, sincerity, a willingness to go outside of the familiar, to question what I take as true and real. A willingness to be wrong.

Specifically, it means to fully allow experience, and then allow it to work on me.

It means to find my beliefs, inquire into them, and find what is more true for me than the initial belief.

It means to embrace more of all of who I am at my human level, the good with the bad, the light with the shadows. Using the wider world as a mirror of what is right here, in my human self.

It means to explore what I really am, trusting what I discover even if it goes against what the whole world, and my past experience, is telling me. To discover that I am built open for the world, as Douglas Harding says. Built wide open for the world, for any experience, anything happening, any content of experience.

Inherit the world. This is what is invited in from this form of meekness.

I inherit the world in fully allowing experience, independent of its content. This allows for an appreciation of the fullness of experience, and the sweet nurturing fullness that is revealed when experience is not resisted.

I inherit the world in embracing more of all of what I am at my human level, allowing and living from more of the amazing richness here, mirroring the wider world. Whatever quality and dynamics I see out there are also right here, in my human self, either as a potential or more fully developed.

I inherit the world in finding what I already am, this no-thing full of the whole world. This field of awakeness of form inherently absent of an I with an Other, already and always allowing the whole world. The sense of an I with an Other falls away, revealing the whole world of form as an I without an Other.

And this is all a blessing. It is a blessing that this can be invited in through practices. It is a blessing that we already have and are this richness of our human self, and of what we are. It is a blessing that we can discover this for ourselves. And the journey itself, however it shows up, is a blessing.

Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me. (Matthew 25:40)

As with so many of the saying of Jesus, this one is beautiful, simple and true in many different ways.

It is true through a Jungian filter, where we see Christ as the realized wholeness of this human self, and the ways we treat others as mirroring the ways we treat ourselves. This one is helpful, although a little limited.

More interestingly, it is true in the sense discovered by mystics from any tradition… There is only God. There is no I with an Other to be found anywhere, even if it may appear that way. All beings happen within, to and as God.

God can notice itself or not while functionally connected to a living being (in our case, this particular human self). If it doesn’t, there is suffering. If it does, there is a release from suffering.

And if there is suffering, it is, in a very real sense, God that is suffering.

It doesn’t touch what God is, which is this stainless awakeness untouched by anything in the world the same way as space is not touched by its content. Suffering is nothing else than this awakeness itself, no other than God itself.

Yet, it is experienced as real, substantial, happening to a separate I, so it is very real in that sense.

All of this means that whatever we do for any being, we do for God. Whatever we do for the least one, the one who suffers, we do for God. When we help someone, even in small ways, it is God we are helping.

It is God helping God. God exploring how it is to be finite, to be helped, to help.

All happening within, to and as awakeness.

Jesus spent his days with the outsiders and outcasts of society, so this is a good illustration of how that may look if translated to our contemporary society. (Although not necessarily wearing high heeled shoes.)

He chose to be with prostitutes, money collectors and fishermen, and told stories of good Samaritans… all looked down at or shunned by his community. Who would he choose friends among today? Maybe the homeless, insane, industry workers, truckers, Muslims, turban wearers, gay, transsexuals, hiv positive… not to change them or convert them, but to find friends in them, and show the rest of us our prejudices.