Vol. 22, No. 5,514 - The American Reporter - September 7, 2016



by Elizabeth T. Andrews
American Reporter Correspondent
Cartersville, Ga.
March 6, 2007
One Woman's World
WHO DO YOU BELIEVE, MOSES OR HELEN SCHUCMAN?

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CARTERSVILLE, Ga. -- Since religious differences have caused more bloodshed than all the plain, ol' ordinary, insane wars over territory or somebody else's goodies, let's take it from the top and see if we can make some sense of it.

Before the beginning there was God.

'It is inconceivable that God-as-Love authors any war, instructs to violence, designs any group or individual spiritually greater than anyone else, or gives them the only set of keys to the Kingdom... .'

We can call God a he, a she, an it, Allah, Brahma, Adibuddha, Amun, YHWH, Cosmic Intelligence, Universal Consciousness, The Nameless or Herkamer. It won't change a thing.

God is. That should be enough for us cosmic infants, but usually it isn't.

We finite chips off the infinite block want more. We want to define, outline, structure, organize, monopolize, package and sell. We want our truth to be everybody's truth lest we feel threatened by that which is different. The radicals among us feel severely threatened, and divinely ordained, so they blow themselves - and others - to bits in God's name.

From where do we get our information of what God is, information we are so determined to label The-Truth-For-Everyone?

Therein lies the mystery, the magic ... and the mayhem.

After the beginning, God decided there needed to be a way to remind us that we are made in the image and likeness of God; that God is love, light and spirit, and that the good life can be lived if we remember every man is our brother, every woman our sister, every child our concern, and that all we have to do is love one another.

Not being a respecter of persons, God implanted into the brain of each Homo sapien a faculty called inspiration - a reminder room of sorts.

Access to this room, to God, and to the good of the universe, is a simple code which reads "Be still and know that I am God." Most of us, however, choose to depend on others for the gems in the room. We call their findings "inspired by God" and we accept them as our personal truths.

The inspired gem collectors include Moses, Mohammed, The Buddha, the Apostles, Joseph Smith and a few dozen others.

Oddly enough, the greatest inspired authors of the last 150 years have been women: Mary Baker Eddy (Christian Science); Myrtle Fillmore (Unity); and Helen Schucman, reluctant scribe of A Course In Miracles.

Ongoing problems have arisen because infinite, perfect wisdom is always channeled through imperfect, finite vessels.

All humans are subjective, limited, imperfect and finite. We can only communicate according to our individual abilities and understanding of what it is we wish to share. A six-year old could hardly have written the Song of Solomon in the King James Bible.

What is the point?

The glaring, uncomfortable point is: The foundations on which all major and minor religions rest, and on which we gamble our individual souls, were fashioned by messengers very much like ourselves. Can we seriously believe any one of them had the total truth, or the only truth?

In A Course In Miracles, Helen Schucman allowed a personality she believed to be Jesus to dictate internal dialogue to her for more than seven years. Schucman's professional credentials were impressive: Professor of medical psychology at Columbia University's College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York City. Her personal profile read: Female. Jewish. Atheist. The story is spell-binding; the work one of the greatest pieces of literature of the last century.

Who among us familiar with that work can declare that Helen Schucman was any less inspired than Moses? No less a vessel used by God than Paul or the apostles? Who among us wants to stride forward and declare: That work is false because it is recent. I have the Bible. I have the Koran. I have the truth, the ancient truth.

I do not mean to sound irreverent or disrespectful of anyone's faith.

I simply mean to suggest that the odds against any of us having the total, vast universal spiritual picture are very slim. That which is created cannot fully understand its creator. The part cannot comprehend the whole.

It is inconceivable that God-as-Love authors any war, instructs to violence, designs any group or individual spiritually greater than anyone else, or gives them the only set of keys to the kingdom.

That we were all created spiritually equal is a certainty I hold most sacred.

That we forget it, or refuse to recognize it is, I believe, the bomb in the hands of the terrorist; the dark in the chapel where truth does not live; and the heel of the boot that has no use for the rose.

Elizabeth T. Andrews, a former columnist for the Orlando Sentinel, lives in Cartersville, Ga., where she writes poetry. Write her at rainytreefoundation@yahoo.com or P.O. Box 816, Cartersville, GA 30120.

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