i love hearing testamonies, that is a blessing in your life , you now know that you know that you know that God is

Alex:

My husband's cousin stood up with us in our wedding in 1991. In 1992 he was diagnosed with AIDS. There have been at least 3 - 4 times that he has been knocking on death's door and no one has answered. We believe that the only reason he is alive today is because it is God's will. You are truly blessed to have heard Him speak so clearly to you. It saddens me that He tries to speak clearly to others and they choose to ignore him. Other people's opinions do not matter, YOU know what you have heard and that is all that matters.

Blessings,
Curlingmom

Thanks Alex - I hope more people will post their experiences.
I have felt like I had Gods voice inside of me throughout my life. I had a rough childhood and I needed it. That experience of God again in thought and an understanding of message more than actual words I could express to anyone else. Right now I am going through a period of searching and trying to figure out what I believe of God and in the harsher moments if God still exists for me at all. I have been torn between such vivid memory of encounters with God when I needed them and wondering if my active imagination has created these events. I have started trying to search for God in centering prayer to try to open myself up to such encounters again - perhaps to prove they ever existed.
A book I started reading to help me get there, Celebrating Discipline said "we can descend most easily into the heart through the imagination" - perhaps that is why divine encounters get passed off as imaginations. It made me rethink some of the things I have written off as my imagination.
Anyway it is helpful to hear of peoples experiences of God - even and perhaps especially if they are not 100% sure it wasn't their imaginations.

Thanks for telling us this story Alex, It is moving
As progressive christians we don't share our personal experience of God enough

I really felt held in God's hand as I moved from the home I shared with my husband into a new community

A duplex came up for private sale (and I got bank fiancing)
Several neighbours commented later that they would have been interested in buying but didn't know it was being sold,
A friend moved into the same street at the same time.
I needed a dryer and one came from a friend of a friend
The huose vendor suggested I buy both 1/2 of the duplex

Suffice to say many little things fell easily and peacefully in place and I felt the love of God through my friends and community and strangers.

Alex: Thanks for sharing that. It takes A LOT of courage since we do live in an age where there is maybe a bit of a disconnect between the surface/waking existance of humanity, and some of the deeper realities of our souls and our connectedness.

Perhaps, it's a bit like those massive chunks of ice on the ocean in places. What we see with our eyes seems like the full reality ... however, it is really only the tip of the iceberg isn't it?

My experience is very similar to Rev. James. I would almost never "share". I don't think many people would understand. (Greco-Roman civilization ushered in a very long era of humanist, individualistic, "rational"/literalistic thinking).

I've always felt close to that voice you spoke of. It is a very quiet voice that just gently whispers. It doesn't yell, and it doesn't control us. We have to listen (go with the flow).

We can go with it or not. Quite often, I forget to listen, or I listen to my own voice (my ego) instead. Quite often I listen to someone elses voice ... but then again, the spirit speaks to us through others too, I think.

You mentioned a dreamy sense you had. I would agree that this quiet inner voice often speaks in dreams or sort of "early waking" moments ... before our conscious experience drowns it out.

Some might say, it is just something deep in our subconscious and nothing else. Yet ... what created that subconscious? Is it still being co-created by ourselves and by that moving, brooding spirit of wisdom?

Hmmm ... it's a Mystery isn't it? I don't think we can expect to understand it all fully. I do personally believe that we have (can have) a close relationship with that powerful divine spirit which created (and still creates) our universe. It is just a matter of listening and choosing to be in that relationship.

A small point before the enlightenment we in the west understood inspired and enchantment - then it was the inspiration of the times that lead to the repression of inspiration. To answer that we became dualistic or others reduced inspiration to the rational and others to some sort of gnostic mystery. Thankfully, due to William James ( and I read all of his brothers novels) and others, we began to be open again to deep empiricism - that is mysticism as empirical reality.

Each story is a unique story for the aim is both general and specific so my mystical experience is more one of a deepening of poetry, beauty emerging in fullness as encounters happen and we encounter one another with trust and openness.

So my latest experience was in a room full of strangers who became friends and friends, some of whom became strangers, and to find ourselves listening to Bruce, to one another, sharing stories, drinking wine, enjoying good food, and at one moment the Jazz duo lifts us - they push one another and a new note is created, and the room dances, and it is all very rational, emotional, normal, and complex, full of yet more dancing, and the poet speaks and the many become one and is increased by one. So ordinary. So part of ongoing life. In the moment, and in the shared space/time we are one yet many. No blinding lights. Just enchantment. And that enchantment becomes a living prayer where we join others in the healing of our world.

Thank you so much for sharing your experience Alex. You wrote, "progressive Christians were not talking about our mystical experiences, like others traditions do"

Historically, hasn't Christianity tried to crush such experiences as expressions of Pagan evils? Not so long ago, and perhaps in places even now, if you told your minister/priest about a mystical experience, you were told to put it away, don't talk about it, don't do it again, go and read the Bible more and pray harder.

The churches have very effective and successful tools for squashing mystical experiences, they've been doing it for centuries. However, do they even know how and where to start to accept and encourage it when the tools for that were thrown out nearly 2000 years ago?

My husband and I both had an unusual spiritual experience together. I told a UCC minister who I really respected about it. He told me that I should join Alpha (translate that as baby Pablum!), and that anyone who said Jesus was not literal was just plain wrong. Pretty disappointing to have something so powerful simply dismissed.

That's a great experience, Alex. I don't have anything like that myself but have heard from others some wonderful events.
Isn't it a bit of a contradiction to say these things are real but not to believe the miracles of Jesus? Just wondering.

The miracles of Jesus are real in the same sense Alex is talking about his - it is not a supernatural breaking of natural events, but unexpected outcomes that one could not have predicted. It was healing but one still could have the disease - one may be without an arm and the miracle is that does not matter - one is healed. Jesus was in-touch with the natural pathways of healing.

Science tells us that the rainbow is generated by the refraction of sunlight through the rain drops. Because the appearance of the rainbow is relative to the position of the sun and the observer, no one can ever physically reach the end. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is a myth.

My experience tells a different story:

The year that I turned 14, we were living on a farm in Southern Ontario. It was spring seeding, and my father was running the seed drill at one end of a 20 acre field, while I was at the other end of the field driving another tractor with a cultivator and a set of harrows. We were having "sun showers", periods of light rain in bright sunlight. I remember thinking that it was ideal weather for a rainbow.

I reached the east edge of the field, and turned the tractor to head west. When I looked back to make certain that I hadn't tangled the harrows during the turn, the end of the rainbow was right behind the harrows ... and it was gaining on me.

I throttled the tractor back, and found myself sitting in the middle of a fountain of gold coins. They were pouring down my shoulders, and when I lifted up my hand, they seemed to pour between my fingers. Coins were striking the tractor, and bouncing up spinning down to the ground. I looked up, and the rainbow rose up directly away from me. The colours were so bright, the rainbow looked solid. I felt that if I were to reach up and strike it, the rainbow would have rung like a bell.

The rainbow moved in front of the tractor, and the end looked like a pool of molten gold on the ground with a fountain of gold coins rising up out of it. By the time I reached the western edge of the field, the rainbow was miles away to the east.

From the north end of the field, my father watched in fascination as the rainbow caught up to me and turned the entire tractor to gold. The other end of the rainbow was in the same field, right behind him.

In the 35 years since, I have told this story many times. Few will believe it. I have found one other person who has actually seen the end of the rainbow. She saw at a distance, as my father did. She now happens to be my next door neighbour.

I think one of the serious questions the Church has to ask itself, is how much it has succumbed to the modern view of reality, and how it has compromised it.

Does it really have anything extraordinarily new to offer scientific, rational humans? The Church, after all, defined our reality as just God, humans, and inert matter. Science just dropped the first one.

Oui: Yes ... I'm all for deconstruction. A Faulty Christianty has desperately needed it ... and needs more still, really. But yes we have to find our way back out of the ditches too. We need to get to the place where we seek the best of our faith heritage, but also look for wisdom elsewhere in order to make it better.

People are very spiritual these days. Some of the most spiritual people I know have no interest in the church for the reasons you describe. We do need to change in this regard ... as we move toward a reconstruction which balances "enlightened"/Yang rational thinking and our quiet, spiritual YIN experience of life.

Alex,
Thanks for sharing your story. It's a treasure-you considered us worth listening to it. Take good care of it.
My encounter with God happened when I was about twenty. I was studying for early education teacher (I am not sure, how to translate this right) and it was at a catholic school, all classmates were female between the age of 16 and 22.
There was one girl, which was a bully. She had a circle of followers around her and was dominating every decision that was supposed to be made by the class just by voicing her opinion- her five followers would agree and nobody else would say a thing. The teachers would then take this as a decision.
This was completly against my sense of democratie and it became my role to speak up everytime and ask the teacher for a formal vote- which then usually turned out to be different. Of course, this bully girl started picking on me, argueing etc. Well,I was pretty good at argueing, so she didn't really get very far- but it was a very stressful time, because the bystanders didn't take any stand.
In that time, I had a dream: I saw this girl in front of me and I saw "God" close behind her, he didn't have a body, more like a power/light shape and "he" (he didn't have a gender, either) was either enveloping this girl somewhat or having his "hand" (which wasn't a real hand) on her shoulder. He "spoke" to me , not with a voice, it was more putting the thought into my brain- and said: ".........- I am with ........(name of the girl), too."
This upset me (in the dream) completely, because I was certain I was on the "good" side, standing up for what was right, fighting the bully- who was giving me a hard time. Then I woke up, and I knew instantly, that this truly had been God- because his message was completly the opposite of what I had been feeling about myself, my "mission" and what I thought God wanted me to do.
This had been the clearest encounter with God in my life.
What happened after that?- I didn't have to fight that much anymore. The bystanders started to voice their opinions - sometimes trying to be hateful to this girl and trying to get my "support" for that- which I didn't give- because I didn't need it anymore. The girl lost her status and with that he followers exept for one.
We came to an almost friendly relation, because now I had to speak up against the voices that wanted to make her a scapegoat.
It was a great experience for group dynamics- maybe that's why I try to avoid these ever since...

oui says "Their only tradition in the area is destruction, not nuturing.

As Christianity took over the empire, it took on the role of quashing opposition, which was a sad large chapter in our history. Yet the Christian church has nurtured many different mystical figures. Yes some have run afoul of church structures, but that's what prophetic figures do, and many have gone on to change the very character of the whole religious enterprise.
Look at St. Francis of Assisi , Thomas Merton, John Main, John Wesley, St. Ignatius of Loyola, Brother Roger of Taize. Julian of Norwich. Each has made a profound mystical impact on the Christian church.

Thanks for recalling Hildegard. I had a momentary blank on her name.
Yet in the super rational 20th century, Pentecostalism arose, which was a mystical spiritual experience for many. Its rise has affected all of Christianity, and has helped even the superrational liberals to reconnect with their spiritual side.

The Labyrinth is another powerful experience of the mystical. Last Saturday evening I helped to host a Labyrinth walk for a visiting youth group. These teens had never seen one before. They were blown away. After their walk, they sat around it and prayed for two hours. they didn't want us to extinguish the candles. ( I had about 100 votives lit, so it was very dramatic. It was as if the labyrinth had a pulse , it was moving) .

There is a big difference between soothsayers et al and the mystical tradition. The book of Acts is full of mystical experiences - it was all part of the church even unto this day - at times as RJM and Indra have pointed out there has been an ebb and flow between the dipolar experience of reason (wisdom) and romance ( ecstatic). Our present age, from the enlightenment moved into dualism to speak to this need of both/and. In the process broke the strong connection of reason and emotion.

It is interesting how we cannot keep the ecstatic repressed. Here Freud is correct, when you repress that which is repressed comes out neurotic or psychotic. It is such with spirituality, and that is why we have funny fact spirituality in new age thinking.

When I was in seminary there were great discussions and experiments to have mystical experiences, like dropping LSD in chapel. Fortunately there were academic Catholics who opened up to us the Hildgars et al to discover a long tradition of mystical seeking all down through history - there was never a time when that was not the case. When I came to Canada I found the UCC was so Barthian that the spiritual/ mystical tradition was mostly unknown. It is good that it is now part of our discipline and practice - but because we ignored it so much we do have some funny fact stuff flowing around us.

What Alex has helped us do here is to remind us of those moments when we know the world is never Godforsaken even in the dark night of the soul. For I remember listing to John Coltraine "the Bridge" around midnight, reading poetry and hearing love supreme and know the fact this world is never GodForsaken.

Good thoughts Panentheism ... I was going to put up an argument to say that the New Agers aren't totally neurotic/psychotic (there is a little wisdom there you know) ... BUT ... I won't say too much now .... in honour of the profound and helpful comments you've made throughout your post.

Oh ... Pan ... you'll always be one of my favorite posters (even when I disagree with you ever so slightly :-)

I was always struck by George Orwell's book 1984. The thought police had taken the word "love" out of all literature and the vocuabulary. When Winston and Julia fall in love, they are confused by their feelings. To have a romantic affair was a criminal offence. They had no way to describe it. The Ministry of Love was the torture & rehab prison.

If we have no shared vocabulary for our mystic experiences, then how can we begin to understand them? It has to be for more than just for my own benefit that we talk about it.

alex, as the husband of a woman who is HIV positive, I wanted to let you know I admire your courage, your faith, and your open-ness. Good for your for listening to that still, small voice. The more we tell people about this disease, the less stigma and hatred towards it there will (hopefully) be.

My spiritual experience (I don't necessaryily agree with terming it mystical) was a dream I had at a particularly tough time in my life that profoundly affected me. I was in juvenile detention for a few years when I had this dream.

In the dream I was in my room, which consisted of a basic cot and matress, a desk built into the wall, a plastic trash can, and not much else. I had the feeling in the dream that I had just woken up to a presence in my room. I sat on the edge of my bed and satan was standing in front of me, a dark, distinct man-shaped figure. He had a figurine in his hand, which he then gave to me. He said that if I would get on my knees before him, he would give me whatever I wanted. I looked at the figure, then at him, and shook my head. Then I dropped the figure into to trash can. The figure appeared in my hand again, and this time satan said that he would give me everything I had ever wanted, if I would only bow down and worship him. I said no, and broke the figure in half, tossing it into the can again. Once more the figure appeared in my hands, and once more satan asked me to worship him. I broke the figure into a bunch of pieces and threw them out. One final time, the figure appeared whole in my hands, and he repeated his request, offering me my heart's desires in exchange for my obedience to him. This time, I took the statue, broke it into tiny pieces and ground the pieces between my hands. I emptied the contents of my hands into the trash can, stood up, and walked from the room.

In the next room was Jesus. He was clothed in light and standing there, waiting for me. I couldn't see His face, but I knew it to be Him, the same as I had known the devil to be satan. Jesus took me in His arms and held me as I wept and shook against Him. He comforted me, telling me that I was going to be alright, and that He would always be with me.

Satan came into the room then, and I dried my eyes and stood tall and proud beside Christ. We stood side by side faced against him, and after a moment, I could visibly see satan almost deflate, as if the darkness in him wasn't so dark and scary, and he knew he was defeated. He vanished from the room, and then Jesus held me again, telling me that He loved me and would never leave me. My dream ended after that.

I remember waking up feeling a deep sense of peace and love, like nothing else I had experienced before. I knew then that I would never be alone, and He would always be with me. The strange thing about this dream is I'm still not sure if it was a dream, or if I was actually awake, as it seemed so lifelike and vivid.

A few years later, I came across a small black figurine in a thrift store. It almost looked like a Haida-inspired raven, with the large downturned beak and wings folded to the sides, but more distorted. Something drew me to this figure, so I bought it and brought it home with me. For the next week I started having very troubling dreams, nightmares even, that I couldn't remember, but from which I always awoke in a cold sweat, feeling this very palpable feeling of dread and evil in the room. For some reason soon after, I was telling someone about my dream, and everything clicked. I recognized the figure as a match to the one in my dream. I immediately went home, retrieved the figure, and broke the it with a hammer, until the pieces were very small. Then I disposed of them in the dumpster out back.

That dream and that experience have left me with a feeling of a personal relationship with Christ, as in I actually know that He exists and that I believe very deeply that He is real and is always there in my life. To me, Jesus is as real as my parents, or someone I'd meet on the street, someone I can connect to in a very deep and spiritual way. That is why I have no choice but to follow Him, because He is very real to me.

God bless

RevJamesMurray says:

"I think we are starting to learn how to see
outside of the box which was constructed by
the Enlightenment. There has always been
'more' than what reason can explain."

Friends! This thread brings tears to my old
weary eyes. "Science" has made me quite
batty. Perhaps now the thrill of the chase will
make me feel young again!

To begin, thank you Alex -- for starting this thread and for sharing your story ... It gives me a venue for sharing my own mystical journey -- which centers around my dreams.

And so ... The call has been made, to share our mystic experiences. My three most powerful mystic experiences deal with three dreams I have had -- one,
was dreamt once, in a series; another is a repeated theme; and, the
final dream was only ever dreamt once, and never repeated;
night-visions, all ... and all three dreams affect me. Let me share
them with you ...

Dream 1 - The Staircase & the Tigress ... During a time of physical
transition (between the ages of 12 and 14), I had a series of dreams.
The dreams always involved the long staircase in our family home --
bathed in darkness, at the top. To begin with, the dream was short and
unpleasant. I was standing at the base of the stairs in my pyjamas -- a
typical 12-year-old, staring up into the dark. As a natural trepidation
gripped me, the form of a giant black panther emerged from the
darkness. The panther paced and snarled; I stood at the bottom of the
stairs, frozen in fear. Then the huge cat would leap down upon me, and
tear me to shreds. I would wake up caught in a silent scream. The
dream kept this form for several days. Then -- with no outside
provocation -- the dream changed ... Suddenly, in the midst of the
dream; before the panther could leap upon me, a giant white tigress
stepped out of the wall, about halfway up the staircase. She stood upon
the stairs and looked down at me. She spoke to me, saying, "You do not
need to be afraid; I am here now." Then, she crouched and leapt to the
top of the stairs -- landing solidly on top of the black panther (a
male, by the way). She tore the panther to shreds. Next, just as
nimbly, she leapt down the stairs -- playfully bowling me over; then
sitting on my chest as I lay on the floor. "My name is Sheeba -- though
I am spirit; I am your familiar," she stated with a soft purring
reassurance, "I will never leave you; I will always protect you." And
then I awoke. And I never had that dream again ... ever. However, I
have caught glimpses of Sheeba, in my other dreams -- slight blurs, like
something/one seen out of the corner of your eye. And I have always
walked with Sheeba's presence in my daily thoughts and imaginings. And
I believe she is my spirit-familiar. That was the first experience I
can remember of what I refer to as a power-dream.

Dream 2 - The Pool ... This recurring dream is one that I first had when
I was a pre-teen; and continue to have, sporadically, to this day. It
seems to come when crises and stress are building; and I need to stop
everything and relax ... but I'm not usually taking the time to do
that. One more bit of preamble -- I cannot swim, outside of the
shallow-end of any pool. I have had two near drownings -- both during
my adult life -- and numerous attempts at swimming lessons ... all to no
avail. But, I love the water. So, here is the dream ... I high-dive
into a public pool. There are a few other folk swimming below. As I
hit the water, the people in the water are transformed into seals and
dolphins and otters! Much to my delight! (Otter and dolphin are two of
my Native totems -- as you will see in the third dream I share.) I swim
with all the grace and playfulness of my fellow water-dwellers -- even
though, I remain human. When I finally climb out of the pool, I am
totally refreshed. I'm about to dive back in; when I wake up ...
somewhat disappointed, I might add; and wishing I could fall back to
sleep. On nights/early mornings when I have my pool-dream, I get a lot
accomplished the following day; my energy levels are definitely peaking
then.

Dream 3 - My Totems ... I only had this dream once -- but it was so
powerful, I could never forget it. I was walking through a pine forest
-- sand, and old pine needles, and spent pine cones carpeted the
ground. I emerge from the forest towards a point of land that overlooks
all the other land. On the point is a totem pole; and a Native elder is
standing there, waiting for me. "It is good that you wish to honour
your heritage," the elder says, "These are your totems -- remember them;
they will guide you well." He fades away as I examine the totem pole.
At the top, facing forward is Mother Owl, a watchful huntress. At the
top, facing backwards is Father Raven, a wise and playful elder. Owl
and Raven stand on the head of Mother Bear, fearless protector. In her
arms, Bear cradles Brother Otter, playful and wise in the ways of
Nature. Bear rides upon the back of Sister Dolphin, valiant and
carefree. At the very base of my totem pole is Phoenix -- melding all
the totems together with its fiery wings. ... After learning all of
that, I woke up. And, I have never had that dream again. But I have
tried my hand at simple art -- sketching my totem pole in oil pastels.
And I use my totems in my shamanic healing ministries, and most of my
rituals.

These three dreams all hold great significance for me; and strongly
influence my mystic journey. And so, I have shared them with you.

Peace & Blessings!

L. Dwayne Decker
New Glasgow, Nova Scotia, Canada
lddecker@eastlink.ca

------------------------------

RJM wrote, "this requires discernment- not just by the ecclesiastical authorities as it was done in the past, but by all of us."

I'm so very happy to see this statement. I hope it spreads like wildfire through more churches.

Also, its a pleasure to read everyone's experiences. Here is mine:

My husband and I were once visited by an entity. It was up on my left side well above me. We both sensed it there, shapeless, glowing intensely white, radiating long, beautiful, crystal-like thin rays. It was not intrusive, its intention seemed to be simply to introduce itself. I looked directly at it, and it swelled growing even brighter as it responded to my gaze. It was so brilliantly beautifully serene. I felt bathed in it. My husband would only look at its lower rays, not directly at it. It retreated after awhile. It had no sound or shape or message or identity or weight or mass.

The next morning we found out my husband's father had passed away during the night, around the time we saw this entity. It carried no identity at all, we don't know if it was his father. I have encountered it briefly again a couple of times when meditating in a high level. I know we are not alone in the spiritual dimension.

I chose my avatar because it is a very close representation of my experience. It is an ancient Egyptian depiction of the Aten (represented as a sun disk) radiating life.

I find it slightly amazing that people see the church as opposed to and supplying no support for mystical experience. I know this to be the experience of people, but I can't understand it. The mystical experience of the church must be like the purloined letter invisible because it is in plain sight.
We gather every Sunday to worship God. We gather to consciously as a community take time to enter into the presence of the living God. I was heartened by the number of people who reported that they had experienced that in a personal and radical way. The feelings I had when I was baptized (as an adult) still serve for me as an indicator of the presence of the Spirit.
We read the stories of people who encountered the living God and were transformed. Abraham, Sarah, Moses, Miriam, Peter, Mary, Paul, Priscilla. We consider these stories to be sources of insight for our life. We also tell stories of the saints of the church St. Francis, John Wesley, etc. who encountered God and were changed. There is a wealth of inspirational writing of which this thread is one example.
We are encouraged to pray, to talk directly with God, and to listen for God's voice. We seek guidance. We seek miracles. We seek a loving presence. And we find guidance, and miracles and the presence of God.
My prayer life has been one of answered prayer. As a minister I have been privileged to hear hundreds of these stories. One of my favorites is the parishioner who could see angels. She went to visit someone in hospital one time and saw an angel standing beside the bed. The woman in the bed saw her staring and said, "Oh, you can see my angel."
I suppose the church is like you Alex, our best kept secret is the experience of God. Thank you for sharing.