Soul Matters: Book 4, Monocracy Managerie

The three of them reconvened at Phil’s apartment the following afternoon. Donna fabricated an extended trip with friends to explain her absence to Betty. Pastor Mike showed up with his suitcases. He was purportedly on his way to his new placement at the retreat center. Phil offered them a hearty meal -- steaks and salad. They drank lemon-flavored water rather than wine to keep their wits about them for the coming ordeal.

At length, they settled onto mats on the floor and began the slow process of entering a deep meditative state. Phil eventually connected with Pastor Mike and Donna, and all three of them stepped into Manuel’s patio.

“Watch where you’re going!” Manuel shouted at them. “I’ve redecorated the place.”

Phil looked around, but the only difference he could see was the flowers were all shades of yellow -- from light amber to dull flaxen.

Even so, Phil led the trio along the marble-stone path to the bench.

“So how do we get to where we’re supposed to go?” Phil asked the angel.

Manuel abandoned his flowers to approach, “Through there.” He pointed to the magic wall. “You will get a preview first. After you know the lay of the land, each of you will merge with whomever you were back then.”

As the angel spoke, the wall blurred to what looked like a giant plasma-screen TV. Slowly, an ancient Egyptian city sitting on the Nile Delta came into full view.

Manuel was saying, “You probably figured out the exodus was not a singular event. The Israelites left Egypt in waves, which were linked to the plagues listed in the Old Testament. The periodic red tides gave rise to frogs and flies multiplying all over the place. Dog-flies, when they are in an up-cycle, acted like lice and swarmed over whole districts. Nile-itch was another common plague of boils affecting cattle and people. Locust, hailstorms, and the desert wind known as Simoon, were all natural plagues. During each, groups of Israelites immigrated to Canaan. But Moses did lead one group after the killing of Egyptian children.”

“So Yahweh was involved,” Pastor Mike said as they watched the progression of plagues pan across the magic-wall.

“Nope,” Manuel answered. “It was Moses and his confederates. They didn’t kill many, but they did get one of the Pharaoh’s sons. They used cloth contaminated with plague germs. Sort of the biological weapon of the times. It ended up in the Ark of the Covenant. In later times, the legend arose Aaron captured Kezef, the angel of wrath, and locked him in the Holy Tabernacle. It was a good spin.”

“How can it be?” Pastor Mike exclaimed.

“Well,” Manuel shrugged, “Moses was a hot-head. Remember he killed an Egyptian and ran off to Midian. It was there he was called to work for Yahweh, and at one point Yahweh thought better of the idea and almost killed Moses. Lucky for him his wife intervened. You see, Moses wasn’t wrapped too tight. He was Yahweh’s chosen man, but he lacked many of the skills of a true leader. Mostly he was a good soldier, and he was a firm monotheist -- a believer in Aton.”

“But that was long before Ramses,” Pastor Mike said.

Manuel shook his head, and his flowing golden locks appeared as fingers wagging shame on the pastor, “The New Chronology fixed the timeline by pushing it 400 years earlier. Where you are going it’s the year 1447 B.C. The correct timeline has it this way: Amenemhat III was the Pharaoh of Joseph’s time. He was the Vizier of Amenemhat III. The ‘new king who did not know Joseph’ was Sobekhotep III, and it was he who enslaved the Hebrews. Later on, Neferhotep Iwas the adoptive grandfather of Moses. Khenephres was the Pharaoh from whom Moses fled to Midian. The Pharaoh of the Exodus was Tutimaios, known also as Dudimose. The Israelites escaped during the Bronze Age, which was nearing its height, not during the turmoil of the Iron Age. Moses got the idea of monotheism from his initiations into the Egyptian mysteries, but also into the Ethiopian mysteries by Jethro at Midian. Is that clear?”

“But I can’t believe they used biological warfare,” Pastor Mike said.

“Remember Pandora’s box?” Manuel asked him rhetorically. “It’s based on fact. Early man figured out the clothing from someone who died of plague carried the contagion. They stored these garments in airtight containers. If you read 1 Samuel, you’ll find the Philistines captured the Ark and it brought them the plague. Eventually, the ‘plague demons’ were sealed up and returned to the Temple. Then, in the Testament of Solomon, there was the prediction those demons would be loosed on the Chaldeans should they take Jerusalem.”

“The Chaldeans were the neo-Babylonians,” Pastor Mike observed.

“Under Nebuchadnezzar,” Manuel agreed. “His men got a dose of the plague when they took Jerusalem.”

Pastor Mike was still having difficulty with the idea, Phil could see. Phil, on the other hand, was not surprised at this new twist. He’d seen too many twists like this already.

Manuel added, “All the priests of every religion in those times studied poisons, plague, plants, and whatnot. Rats were even sacred to Apollo, the patron of doctors.”

“What of Yahweh?” Pastor Mike labored on. “How does he figure into the story?”

“Like all masks of God,” Manuel started to answer. Then, noting his answer would leave Pastor Mike even more baffled, the angel said, “You’ll see.”

“We’ll be back in the 15th Century B.C.,” Pastor Mike said after a pause. “During one of the most turbulent periods in history.”

“Yep,” Manuel answered. “The Hittite empire was at its height. The Philistines were just starting their forays into Canaan as the Egyptians clashed with the Hittites. The native Canaanites tribes remained for Moses to overcome. He came to Canaan from the east to avoid the Egyptians and Hittites, as well as the coastal cities.”

Donna, who was more intent on the fast-moving view of history on the magic wall than on Manuel’s commentary, broke in, “What’s that?”

Manuel glanced at the scene and said, “What the Israelites are used to. Their home, a city surrounded by pools full of fish, lagoons full of birds, wheat and barley fields, orchards full of pomegranates, apples and olives. There are meadows for sheep and cattle. It was an easy place to live even if you were a slave to the Pharaoh’s building projects.”

Pastor Mike elaborated, “It’s also why the Israelites continued to grumble against Moses. Life in the desert was much harder than life under Egyptian rule.”

“Slave mentality is hard to break,” Phil added feeling a fresh stab of guilt over his own ‘slave-mentality’ in the yuppie culture.

Manuel went on, “Moses’ group did need to run for it, and they followed the wind. The pillar of smoke was a windstorm of sand. The Egyptian army on their heels became disoriented in the sandstorm and holed up in a dry wadi. They met their end when the tide returned. Moses headed off from there, the Reed Sea, south to Mara. And that’s where you’ll join up with your former selves -- at the Reed Sea.”

“There’s a theory,” Pastor Mike interjected. “Actually, a couple of theories. The first one compares the bitter water at Mara with the bitterness of the people. Moses provided them with sweet water and proves himself, once again, as Yahweh’s chosen. The second theory is the test at Mara is equivalent to Abram’s test at Mount Moriah. Yahweh tests the whole people this time instead of just one man.”

Manuel grimaced at these theories and said, “Well, Moses wasn’t much of a desert guide. If it weren’t for local help, the whole bunch would have perished. Anyway, it’s time for you to go. I’ll be around at dawn and dusk to help out. You’ll need to find ways to distract the minds of the people you’ll inhabit so you can talk to one another. After you do that, all that’s left is to keep yourselves from getting killed.”

The Hebrews trudging through the Reed Sea stabilized on the wall. Then the focus panned onto a group of elders.

“The one in blue is Pastor Mike,” Manuel said. “Donna, you’re the guy with the funny hat. Phil, the guy in the gray robe with green stripes. Create the intention to merge with them and let yourselves slide into the scene. Good luck.”

Phil knew the shift into this elder would be the easy part. He’d done it before. The hard part was influencing the man he merged with. Even harder would be separating from him when the time came -- if it ever did.

The man Phil entered harbored an internal state of ignorant frustration. It was a thick atmosphere drowning out the man’s vital essence. Yet the essence of the man was what connected him to Phil. They shared the singular I-am-ness Phil knew to be his true self. The rest, though, the frustration born of the man’s ignorance, was apparently who the man thought he was. In so thinking, he burned with the need to be known as a wise man -- a true elder of the tribe.

That tribe was trudging through the papyrus plants of the Reed Sea. The tide had risen, trapping the soldiers behind them. The fleeing group was headed for higher ground.

Everyone was singing a victory song. It was an antiphonal song, a call and response. The men sang out: “Sing to our Lord, for he triumphed gloriously.” The women, led by Miriam, Moses’ sister, came up with a new response during each round. Phil recognized one: “Horse and rider, he has thrown into the sea.”

Miriam was dark-skinned, tall and rugged. She was the opposite of her brothers in many respects: reserved rather than impulsive; an attentive listener rather than a politician or a soldier; and a sober speaker who considered her words carefully, unlike Aaron who was manipulative or Moses who could be a bully. He caught all that from the mind of the man he merged with.

As Phil adjusted to the consciousness of the elder, Manas was his name, he could review the man’s short-term memory. It was obvious he admired Miriam. She was a priestess of Hathor, the sky goddess who cared for women and children. Miriam and her entourage were professional singers used to leading rituals of all sorts.

The defeat of the Pharaoh’s soldiers was something to celebrate, Manas was thinking, but which ‘Lord’ were they praising? The elder knew of El, the traditional god of the Hebrews, but it didn’t seem right that this god should be able to wield this much power so far from Canaan. Moses, he knew, was an initiate within the sun god’s followers and favored Aton, the sun-disk god, but why would Aton help them against the Pharaoh?

The song continued to the beat of timbrels until the entire lot of them reached dry land. Then they tuned south towards Mara. The man glanced up, looking for something. Quickly he spied it and quickly relaxed. Near the head of the column was the golden bull-calf, the adolescent god Ihy, son of Hathor, who was noted for his ability to find his way through the desert. At least, Manas mused, with Ihy’s help they had a chance to complete this mad journey.

As they marched, Phil soaked in the sights and sounds of the people. The song had lifted their spirits, and the chatter was hopeful. The sight of Moses left Phil stunned. He didn’t look at all like Charlton Heston. Moses was fire-plug-shaped with shoulder-length black curly hair. A sun-bruised face with jagged features housed brown eyes burning with manic zeal. Aaron was taller, better dressed, and walked in a more sedate fashion.

Around Manas were refugees, carrying their belongings on their backs or on donkeys. There were some goats and sheep mixed in with the people. Phil noted the distinct differences in this ‘mixed multitude’ following Moses. Most were former slaves, but some were former officials of the old Pharaoh’s government. The family of Moses was the most high-ranking of this group. Yet they all fled the new Pharaoh’s harsh treatment. They fled into Hathor’s eastern kingdom. She, who was the sky itself, welcomed the refugees to a new life. Her son, Ihy, guided their pilgrimage so it didn’t become a death march.

The scene fast-forwarded to a nighttime gathering of a few elders around a campfire. Phil figured they had reached Mara.

Manas was saying, “If it weren’t for Aaron, none of us would still be here. And I’m about ready to leave anyway. The food is almost gone. Moses led us to brackish water. What next?”

The man in blue answered, “Give him time, Manas. We are a disorganized rabble used to being told what to do. We don’t know the ways of freedom.”

Silence descended over the group with this admonition, and Phil re-settled into Manas. The dry sun-bleached wood of the fire snapped sparks into the cooling evening sky. Thin trails of smoke swirled into the deepening dark. Finally Phil tapped into Manas’ senses and smelled the crisp desert air, heard the crackling fire, saw the pale brown eyes of the man with the funny hat. Donna was lurking somewhere behind those eyes.

Phil prompted Manas to speak, “What do you think, Simon?”

Simon’s face soured, and the brown eyes squinted, wrinkling his whole face into vertical lines under the funny hat, “One god or many gods -- what does it matter? They have their lives; we have ours. Moses promised us our own homes and we sit here with no home. But I’m willing to give him time, as Judah says.”

Manas, Judah, and Simon, Phil replayed their new names to lock them in. Manas was ignorant and frustrated. Judah was hopeful but unsure. Simon was bitter and self-centered. Phil could see those traits still reflected in their modern selves, and the parallel was not welcome. To succeed in the current task meant they would need to confront their abiding weaknesses. He wasn’t sure he could, and was even more doubtful if they could collectively pull it off.

The other two men at the fire remained silent and eventually left for their tents. Simon dozed off where he sat, and he began talking in his sleep, “This is weird, Dad. I feel at home here, but it’s a more primitive ‘me.’ The guy’s only wish is to get what he wants.”

Simon’s words were spoken in a guttural form of English, mumbled by a sleeping tongue. Still Phil could make them out. He lulled Manas to sleep so he could talk to Donna.

Phil spoke through Manas, “The game we’re in plays to our weaknesses. You had better call on Ishtar for help.”

Pastor Mike apparently figured out what was happening as he answered them in English, “We’ll make camp at Elim next. But there’s a battle with the Amelikites before we get to Sinai.”

“No battle,” the angel Manuel’s voice intruded. Phil couldn’t see him because Manas’ eyes were closed. “That was out of sequence. The battle happened later. Anyway, the more important fact is you’ve figured out the challenge before you.”

“It’s always the same challenge,” Phil muttered. “Harness the half-trained ego.”

Manuel’s chuckle echoed into the night. Then the scene fast-forwarded again. Through Manas’ eyes, Phil saw they were now wandering around an encampment. Dozens of palms stood against a flat plain. Mountains lurked in the distant haze. This must be Elim where the first major encampment occurred.

Manas was talking to Simon, “Moses said we will be able to catch quail by hand. Does he think we’re stupid?”

“He used to live here,” Simon responded. “Still, it does seem farfetched.”

A voice called out, “They’re coming!”

The entire encampment responded by scurrying toward the ocean. Phil could make out flocks of birds landing on the flat plain. It must be an annual migration, Phil determined. The birds, exhausted from their flight across the Red Sea, were landing here to gather strength for the next leg of their journey.

Manas hurried forward with the others. They gathered the exhausted birds into sacks, nets, and baskets. In the evening, they feasted on roast quail.

The next morning, a new shout went up and rang through the camp. Manas rolled out of his bed and joined the others in gathering manna.

“It is sweet like honey and sticks to your teeth,” a boy told him.

Manas followed him to a nearby valley. Lying on the ground like hoarfrost was the manna. They gathered it until mid-morning while the ants were inert. Once the air warmed enough, the white manna began to brown, and the ants were all over it.

Phil noted each person had gathered some three to four pounds of the sticky stuff. They mixed it with what was left of their staples, and every belly was full.

As Manas nodded off to a mid-day nap, Phil heard Pastor Mike saying, “A plant-louse infects the tamarisk and manna is the result. Science has verified almost every event in Exodus. They will be eating manna throughout the spring. Even so, this is exciting, Phil.”

“How can it be exciting when these miracles are normal occurrences?”

“The real miracles await us.”

Again, the scene blurred, and they fast-forwarded to the next scene in this unfolding drama.

Manas, because of his stature as an elder, sat with the leaders once they reached Mt. Sinai. Moses was telling them about his experiences here as Jethro, his father-in-law, initiated him into the Ethiopian mysteries.

The stocky Moses spoke with some intensity, the light from the campfire playing across his weathered face, “The clear direction came with the burning bush I saw in a vision. Jethro explained its significance. It’s the self that survives the purging fires of death. This self knows the unseen mysteries beyond the hard world we live in. All this,” Moses waved his arms to indicate the entire material world, “is nothing compared to the unseen world of God.”

Miriam picked up on the implications of that statement and said, “The temples, the pyramids, the statues of the gods are worthless. Is that what you’re saying?”

“I think so,” Moses replied uncertainly. “I walk in two worlds now. The rules in one make no sense in the other. I do know there is a unifying Spirit that gives life to all the gods.”

Aaron spoke now. His was a more cultured voice, and his dress was more refined, “Our forefathers believed in El as the ruler of the gods -- the Elohim and the Elim. Could it truly be there is only one God?”

The idea was a bit startling for Manas, but he also didn’t care. One god or many -- what did it matter? It could be said Manas was a religious pragmatist. If paying homage to a deity might help him, then why not? Besides, the many festivals were fun.

Moses was continuing, “The thunder god on this mountain helped me through the death and rebirth of initiation. He helped me see that the Hebrews are a unique people. El Shaddai had chosen us, but he returned to the moon. Aton and Hathor are the sun and the sky, and our time in Egypt was blessed because of them. Now we will return to our homeland, but what god will be our god?”

“The unseen one,” Miriam suggested.

Manas couldn’t contain himself and blurted out, “How can you worship something that’s invisible?”

Moses sighed, “That has been my question. I have felt the Divine, as have many of you, and we would have no problem with an unseen god. The people, though, are used to the statues and images.”

Manas spoke again, “Of course, Moses. It’s something we can see and touch. How do you have a conversation with someone that’s not there?”

Aaron offered, “We could do both. Let the people have their stone symbols but direct their attention to the realms of the Great Mystery -- En Sof.”

“It won’t work,” Miriam said. “What we need is a way to initiate everyone into the mysteries.”

“How?” Moses wondered out loud.

“I don’t know,” was Miriam’s reply. “Maybe your thunder god knows a way.”

The scene shifted again to daytime. Phil could see the Sinai massif rising from the yellow plateau of the Wilderness of Sin. Granite cliffs, pink and mauve, jutting skywards were flanked by slopes speckled with amber and gorges streaked with porphyry and feldspar. The abandoned town they were passing through was called Dophkah. Phil could see it used to be a mining site for copper and turquoise. In the looming rock-face was an abandoned temple. Cut into the wall was the face of Hathor with great cow ears.

“It’s Balaath,” Phil heard someone say. In Manas’ mind, he could follow the connection. The Egyptians knew the goddess of the sky as Hathor, but the Hebrews knew her as Balaath. This was her valley. Towering above her valley, though, was the abode of the thunder god. Yahweh was his name.

Rephidim, where they camped, was the only oasis on the southern side of the massif. It was there they settled in for a long stay.

Phil could see Moses’ group numbered no more than six thousand people -- not the multitude of biblical lore, but still a sizeable mob. They arranged the camp according to family affiliation. The elders, though, were closer to the water. In the evening, Manas and the other four elders of his group gathered around a fire to sit in silence or complain about the latest antics of the leadership.

Ever since Phil merged with Manas, he was pressuring the elder with the call to explore his own depths. Manas was resisting the call. He was content with his studied ignorance and stubborn in his frustration. This evening, Phil gave up on the task and did what he recommended to the others. He called in his True Parents.

Collapsing back on his own consciousness, Phil envisioned them standing as statues on the broad white parking lot for retired masks of God. One statue was of a flaming-haired woman; the other was a leaf-cloaked man. Morrigan and the Green Man were his True Parents. When their images solidified within him, he spoke their names and they awoke.

“Virgnous,” Morrigan’s rich alto voice spoke in greeting. “What adventure have you brought us to this time?”

Green Man, Lord of the Elements, added, “It’s good to be with you again, my son. And with you, my dear.”

“Yes, quite,” Morrigan simped, “but why is it he only calls us when he’s in trouble?”

“I’m not in trouble,” Phil broke in. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Where are we?” Morrigan asked.

“Ancient Egypt,” Phil answered. “Moses is getting ready to ascend Mount Sinai and speak with Yahweh.”

“Not Yahweh,” Green Man corrected. “Not yet, anyway. He is there to speak to the entire Elohim.”

“He ends up with Yahweh,” Morrigan added, “but it’s a difficult struggle. Did they put you here to witness the struggle?”

“It’s a lesson about balance,” Phil answered. “If I don’t get it right, the man I am here dies, and so do I.”

“In our world,” Green Man began, “the story of Yahweh is one of the great stories about how the masks of God evolve. Indeed, their story is the template for how all of us have reached our present form. It is not a story about balance.”

“But it is,” Phil protested. “It’s about the balance of the Goddess-within and the God-above.”

Morrigan’s rich voice answered him, “Some of the Elohim were jealous gods, Virgnous. Yahweh never was. With Ikhnaton later on, Aton gobbled up the other gods, male and female, so that no other gods stood before him. Yahweh was more tolerant. If the issue before you is balance, then it’s the balance in male power as the patriarchy evolved.”

Phil withdrew into himself to consider Morrigan’s words. At length, he knew she spoke true. Even so, the seemingly known event of the Mt. Sinai revelations was now a monstrous unknown. The coming battle between the Elohim and Yahweh, between Moses and the Israelites, between one type of male power and another would begin soon. As Green Man said, this would be an archetypal battle as well. If he chose the wrong side, or more likely failed to perceive the right way, he was doomed.