What is the soul’s awakening in the spirit world?

The poor man died and was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom.

The rich man died and was buried, and, in hell, he lifted up his eyes, being in torment.

I—Dives

The sleeper now awakens—that is, he becomes truly conscious of his surroundings—he knows both what he is and what he has been and his true psychic life begins. He enters into that state, which may be said to be the immediate result of his earthly life; that state, which has been spoken of as one of punishment and reward; words that were true enough, in their original meaning, but which have been so distorted by man’s low ideas that they are more misleading than true. 

The man now reaps what he has sown; he enters into the possession of the treasure that he has laid up, or he finds himself naked and poor. 

The poor in spirit become rich while the rich unto themselves alone are so poor that they cannot even get water to quench their thirst. In what manner do they suffer? In the inimitable story told by the Master from which physical terms are used to describe the psychical, and this, as a matter of necessity.

How is it physically when you suffer cold or heat? 

It is that your body is out of harmony with its surroundings. When you feel cold, it is because the temperature of your body is higher than the air around you, and when you suffer from the heat, it is because your temperature is lower. When the affections of the soul are cold and almost dead then it cannot bear the heat of the heavenly atmosphere, full of love and pity which surrounds it; it is a hell of fire. The rich man asked for water and, apparently, he did not obtain it, but the moment he began to care for and remember others, at that moment, his thirst began to be quenched and the intolerable torment diminished. 

Between us is a great gulf fixed. 

This gulf is not one of place nor of time—it is no artificial barrier, but simply the great gulf which separates, for a time, those who are not one in spirit. Even on your earth, there may be two most closely united outwardly, but within, heaven and hell are not so far apart as their spirits. So we do not, in our state, separate the evil from the good, the tares from the wheat, but both grow together until the day when the evil has died, in the furnace of suffering, and the wheat is ready to be gathered into the heavenly garner.

II—Lazarus

Lazarus, the poor man, is a good type of another large class. There are many who let themselves be borne along by the force of circumstances without any struggle to make nature subservient to them. Such people are generally poor and let themselves be oppressed by the tyrant; they simply suffer when they might find a remedy for their complaint, and their faculties, being not misused, but unused, lie dormant and so are feeble when they come over. Such indeed need to be carried by angels into Abraham’s bosom where the mere absence of physical discomfort produces a sense of happiness for a time and the great gulf keeps them from all activity until they have grown a little stronger.

III—The Carnal Man

The next class includes those whose spirits are so earthbound that they seem unable to tear themselves away from their former surroundings. Those whose passions have been strong on earth and strong for earth alone, finding little or nothing in their new life which is sympathetic to them, return in spirit to the world they have quit, and live—over and over again—their past. From this class, most of the appearances, the revenants are drawn, for anxious to renew, however faintly, their old impressions, they draw to themselves a physical covering—a body—which they can use to see and hear and know the old life. This, however, they succeed in doing but very partially, for the link between the psychical and the physical is not truly reunited and the sensations are but dim and shadowy. It is such as these that have been sometimes helped by counsel from those on your side.

IV—The Idolater

The next class includes those whose lives—outwardly correct—have yet been wanting in the true spirit of love, so that they have been really dead while they seemed to live. With a strong sense of their own righteousness and with low thoughts of others, these Pharisees, these idolaters, of whatever sect or religion they may have been, have their nature completely engrossed with the one idea of their own goodness or sufficiency. When they look back upon their past life, this constant habit of the mind prevents them from acknowledging any failure, any fault, and, in a self-justifying spirit, they see nothing but their own reflection in the pool of memory and so, for a long time, they remain in the valley where the Sun of Life cannot warm them with its rays. Such are helped to true repentance and hatred of their former state by seeing the noble self-sacrificing lives of those who are most truly wise and it is by such examples and willing self-devotion that these troubled ones are comforted.

A letter from one who thus helped these earthbound souls—

It has been shown to me that now soon I must—nay; I may—die on the cross of self-sacrifice to this state. It has seemed a blissful one to me, a heavenly Jerusalem, and, in my ignorance, I should not even have sought a better. Between my death to the old and resurrection to the new, I am permitted to visit the souls in prison, and by the power I have obtained set free one soul that has been bound for perhaps forty years. 

Is there one that you would wish to commend to me? 

Yes; I see there is one who without help must remain on the edge of the pool, and I will help her. When I am lifted up, I will draw her up also from the grave to the open day. I have no need to explain to you, dear friends, that the metaphors I use are very faulty. The pool into which these poor lost souls are ever gazing reflects only the broken images of their past lives; they see them in all their deformity and poverty—over and over again do they live through the past, conscious of their defects, yet unable to remedy them until they are willing to acknowledge that they have been wrong. On the other hand, there is no food for self-love in their surroundings; no one on whom to expend the evil force of their nature and no room for self in any way. But this is really a blessing, for the evil is thus starved out of them and into their empty hearts can then come the power of love, which they see has been ever around them although they knew it not. This knowledge penetrates the hardest heart, and with a cry for help and pardon, a new soul is born within them, and the second death is past. The purple shadows of night are lost in the golden glories of a new day and a new earth and a new heaven rise to their view. But oh! the sadness it is to see some not yet ready for this awakening breath of the Divine spirit—to have to leave them behind for many days or even years. How hard is the human will before it responds to the magnetic touch of Love—oh; how hard!

V—The Child

Again, we have very many dear, simple souls who come over after a life of loving devotion to the highest duty they know of; such souls need but little discipline and a simple life of simple duties, a home where they can shelter and help the sleepers—a life like a glorified earthly one—such is their gentle and gradual development—almost unmarked in its changes, day by day, yet surely rising and expanding.

A mother’s experience (addressed to her grown-up daughters)—

I know you all thought and hoped that your mother, when she died went to heaven, but since then you have learned more of the life after death and you will not be surprised when I tell you that I have not yet even seen the gates of heaven. Yet I am really happy, yes; very happy, as I could not have been if this place had been what I expected. When I first woke up, it seemed like earth, only I thought I had crossed somehow to a new country. I expected your father to join me by-and-by, and bring the children with him (for I thought you were still all little ones). The air was so sweet and the people all so kind, and I said ‘I must not be idle till the others come,’ so I got work to do, clothes to make, it seemed to be. Then one day I remembered suddenly about Sunday, and I asked where the church was. The person I asked smiled and said softly, ‘this is the church—this world is the temple not made with hands where we worship the Father.’ As she spoke, a shock went through me, and I heard hundreds of voices saying, ‘Praise Him, praise the everlasting King.’ Then, in a moment, it was shown to me that I had died and these were spirits around me; yet I had no fear at all—only a great wonder. I knelt down and said the Lord’s Prayer, for that, was all that I could remember just then. Although I knew, as I have said, that I had died, it seemed impossible to believe it, for everything was so different from what I had been taught to expect. I said to my friend—

‘How is it that my body is here; I thought it would be left in the grave.’ She said, ‘yes; that body is in the grave; the one you have is a new one and very different from the old. Did you not think you were young? Yet when you died you were old and your body nearly worn out.’ Then I remembered the latter part of my life, and things seemed stranger than ever. ‘But I thought we should be like angels, and have wings,’ I said. ‘You do not have wings exactly,’ she replied, ‘but if you want to pass quickly from this place to any other, you can—take my hand and try.’ We seemed to fly and, in a moment, we were in a different place; I saw your father leading an old man by the hand and talking to him, but my tongue was tied and I could not speak to him. Then we flew back again, and I was left to myself to try and settle my thoughts, which were so confused. I said to myself that surely in heaven—for that was where I thought myself—in heaven, they all sing psalms, and I cannot sing a note, and they all wear white robes and have harps in their hands, yet I saw none of these things, nor any throne. Then a voice seemed to whisper in my ear, and it said—

The white robe is what you have been working at here; it is ready now—the psalm was the Our Father, which sounded like music in my ear, and the throne, my throne is in your heart. And then, my dear children, I first began really to understand, and a deep peace came over me. But I could never tell you half how I found out one thing after another; what new powers I had and how wonderful everything seemed, but I kept saying, 

Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth. 

Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth, while the voice continually whispered to me and taught me to understand. After that time, I did not do much work, for I was busy learning.

I was told that as my life had been filled with outward work, work done mostly with my hands, I was now to be taught to think—

And because my life had been all taken up with my family, I was to live for a time with strangers—not that I had been wrong, so much as one-sided, only half of me having grown. Now, the other half is being made to grow, and every day I learn about the mysteries of God and of our own life, which are just as wonderful. Perhaps you think that my life is too much like an earthly one, but it is not; only I cannot explain to you the things that are quite different. It seems to me as if on earth people were like dead things compared to what we are here. One thing in the life here might seem strange to you—it is that the best and highest live almost constantly with those who are troubled and suffering—for there is suffering here—awful anguish sometimes, but I need not tell you about that as it would do no good. I am not called upon to take part in this service yet, but when I am fit, I shall be willing. Your father has both suffered and been allowed to help others—his life is all busy, while mine is quiet or only busy with learning. I have not seen any angel or anyone but human beings yet. We have worship and the music and words are our own—each time they spring up in our hearts—like a fountain—yet it all goes well together. I am never tired now, nor get weary of what I have to do—I do not know if the time is long or short, but I suppose I have been here a few years now. It was given to me to come and tell you a few things and when others have written, I have always known what they have told you. Do you wonder what there is here to make me so happy? We are happy because we know God loves us and we love Him back and that makes us blessed. He teaches me by the voice of His dear Son and He will teach you all, that when you join me here, you will not have so much to learn or so long to wait before getting your new soul and going up higher. I should like to look after some of the little motherless children who come here, but I am not chosen to do that work.

Dear children, be sure to see that your minds and souls grow as well as your hearts and bodies. Every loving, true word and every simple, righteous action is treasure laid up in heaven. Live so that when you come over you may not be poor and ashamed, but may be strong and able to help others. If you are lifted up in spirit while still living on the earth, you will draw up others as our Lord did. Every thought is a seed and every word a root from which must spring up a harvest either of wheat or tares. Try to sow good seed that you may have sheaves of ripe corn to lay at the Master’s feet by and by.

VI—The True Man

The next class includes those who have lived true, full lives upon earth—whose psychic powers—while still incarnated in flesh—were being highly developed; those of whom the world was not worthy, the flower of humanity and its fruit. Not faultless—of course—nor yet—by any means—perfectly developed, in all directions, yet having advanced so far that they are fit for other experiences than those we have already indicated. After a short sleep, they awake strong and ready for the service of their fellows. At first, they generally use most easily those faculties, which have been strongest on earth. The philosopher imparts wisdom to the simple; the poet sings the sad, sweet songs of love; the man of business directs and strengthens the weak. It is from this class that the saviours of the psychic sphere are drawn—with full hearts and wise heads—they are ready to work—to suffer—to sacrifice themselves—in any way—if—in the slightest degree—they can help their brethren to see the beauty of true, unselfish lives. 

You, dear friends, know one grand type of this class and there are many like him.

VII—The Perfect Man

Lastly—

The highest—the most perfect—that we have ever known—or dreamed of—is the Master. In other ages—and in other climes—there may have been one or two that nearly reached the height of His Perfection—but to us—there is only one. 

There is Only One.

Having passed through the earthly life without failure, in any moral duty, and with singleness of heart—from first to last—always reaching after the highest ideals; in him, the Perfect, the Ideal (wo)manhood was manifest. After a brief psychic sleep, he arose, in the full possession of his new powers—and uncontrolled, in the least, by mere circumstance—he bends all things to the accomplishment of his high and loving purpose and sets himself to raise his brethren and sistren to the level of his own perfect life.

Literally, the The Living Son of God, Our Creator—Our Father and Mother God—and the Son of Man! 

 

These few illustrations will be enough to give you an idea of the “soul’s awakening,” and of its new life, in the earlier stages. The soul’s expansion will come later. Do not interpret our words too literally—or think these classes are marked off too sharply; no; they blend into each other—as do the good and evil on earth.

“I AWOKE!” Conditions of Life on the Other Side, David Stott, London, 1895