So as far as books and their titles go, we may reasonably claim that this one is a gospel, the word meaning, literally, “good news”. It was applied to the now normally termed Gospels because they proclaimed the good news of Jesus Christ. If you haven’t noticed, this is one of those types of books. Now, the “according to Judas”. Well, if we take the most positive interpretation about the names of the four canonical Gospels, their “according to XXX” means according to what the author believes XXX would have us see things, there we have it. Because it is well known that Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John did not, in fact, write their gospels. In a cynical interpretation about their names and their claims, their authors believed that using the names belonging to the “in group” would lend authority to the books that they were writing, apart from those in that group.
Perhaps not totally separate, though, if one can be a little kind. They who wrote the canonical Gospels obviously were members of the faith; these were definitely not written by atheists or non-Christian Jews, certainly not by the Essenes. Most likely, they believed that the writing of those Gospels was their mission, and perhaps their choosing of specific people to fill out their “according to” had special meaning to them. And so it is with me. A believer on a mission, who is telling the Good News of Jesus Christ, because perhaps the old Gospels need a little more help, these days, to be as enlightening as they used to be. And Judas? I certainly do have a special reason for using his name to fill out my “according to”. Judas is a friend of mine. And I know the truth of his name: no evil lies there.
For those who might be wondering about my motive for writing this book, ulterior or no, let me just say I am not trying to formulate an airtight argument for the existence of God or the salvation of our Lord Jesus Christ. Nor am I trying to invent some simplistic mechanism for conversion, à la Pascal’s Wager. It is often fruitless to try and convert someone who does not actively seek after such an experience. I am trying to make it scientifically plausible that in fact, God does exist, and that Jesus Christ was Him. (To restate, being the Son of God does mean one is God. The elders at His trial say the blasphemy is that “this man says he is God.”) Note that I am not saying “possible”, but “plausible”. We’re trying to reach over the 50% line of probability, if we possibly can.
It is first to acknowledge that first, God may possibly exist. If you don’t even admit that possibility, you’re just as bad as the religious fundamentalists, and I bid you good day. Then, we talk about the prophets: these are the men (and women) who basically had God’s phone number. Why doesn’t God talk to us directly? The Bible actually addresses this question. Apparently, that is a terrifying experience (the Israelites beg Moses and God that He should speak only through Moses after they get a full on blast of Radio Yahweh). The prophets tell us that God does exist, though their picture of Him is necessarily incomplete, and their views of the “unseen” world are colored by their own imaginations.
Then we have Jesus Christ. Not to bad mouth Buddha or Muhammad, but neither of them claimed to be God, so they must be basically still be in the wading pool with the other prophets, no matter how far in the deep end of that they want to go. Jesus Christ was the Son of God. That means 1) He was perfect, 2) He was eternal, 3) He was, in fact, God. I cannot stress this last point enough. This means, being infinite, He could render Himself to be the only necessary sacrifice that covered the wrongdoings of all of humanity, through all of time. That He had a direct wire to the transcendent God — a line that death itself could not break — and therefore, He was able to come back from the dead on His very own. No one else had such a connection. How is this scientifically plausible? If we say that God is possible, then we are free to believe this man, who told us He was God. And because He did everything we might conceive such a being would do — by this evidence, it therefore becomes plausible, all the claims about Him. By Him and His actions we may indeed believe that God is love. 1… 2… 3… ∞.
For one, I can see what doubters see. Myself, I was a devout atheist for many of my days, earlier on. In college I debated believers into the ground. Why should we believe in a man in the sky, rather than, say, a flying spaghetti monster? What’s the difference between believing in God rather than believing unicorns? Are they not both far fetched? To them I say, God confounds the wise with what is plain to children. For true it is that nowadays the wisest among us just may be these atheists, and secular humanists. They who do not count on another, next world, and instead count on this as our only existence. (And shame on the “children of God” for not acting as some of those do, and smugly count on God to vindicate them.)
We must think that we are not so preposterous. Outrageous claims must evince outstanding evidence. We know there is no evidence that a flying spaghetti monster (FSM) had any hand in the creation of the universe. We do, however, have evidence that there is a God, whose name is Yahweh, who had a Son, whose name is Jesus Christ (by the way, that is correct to say “Christ” is part of his name). No one is supposed to believe in the FSM, but believing in the Lord: this actually gives one a clearer picture of WHAT IS ACTUALLY GOING ON. And that is why you should believe. As far as evidence, to a corrupt generation will only be given the sign of Jonah, who was three days in the belly of the whale. The evidence is Jesus Christ’s resurrection, which most would say is part of the claim. No, sir. If and when the Lord calls you to Him, your eyes will be opened. See if that doesn’t set you free, for no truth is truth that does not set you free!
Philip K. Dick described God as being found in the trash layer of the world. This struck me as having a high content of truth. What are we to make of that statement? Why would this be? For is not God found above the highest heaven? Is not Heaven God’s throne, and earth merely a footstool? Yet I look back, when He visited this world, and showed His true nature. He came not to rule, but to serve, the reason why almost all the Jews rejected Him as the messiah. He was the opposite of what they were expecting — the Suffering Servant, not the conquering king. This, too, I find thinking has a significant quality of truth to it. In the very nature of nature we find the surprises that now we don’t think about, like the great dinosaurs all dying out and the lilliputian rodent-like mammal sweeping over as the victor of evolution (for now). Now we do not find it at all unusual that an image of a crucified man, we use to give us strength. Selah.
After the shouting as he rode on a donkey, “Hosanna in the highest!”, what happened then? This is God, your King, o people, come down from on high. This is God with us, our Immanuel. We have waited so long for our Savior to come, and now He comes in peace into the City of Prophets, the city of the Presence, the Temple. Do we make Him, then, King over all the earth? For God so loved the world, that He gave us this man, His only begotten Son, so that whosoever believes in Him, it is as if that soul were never to die, even if they were to leave this green world. What can we possibly do for such a man, who saves us even from our own selves? For being the Son of God means that He is God, for one God there is, and so the Son of God must share God’s very nature. God with us.
Must it be that the stone the builders rejected become the cornerstone? What is to be if He were given to the archons of the Temple, the elders? Will they not pay Him tribute? Or will they pass Him along to become like a curse, and “for the good of the many, is one sacrificed”? (I’m cold, I’m cold…) What do they say has the crowd demanded, if it can be believed? One thinks it no small thing that those who cheered this King of the Jews now turn away, afraid. Who are we, now, leading Him to His final fate, through the streets of Jerusalem? (I’m cold, I’m cold…) Who is it now, who asks for forgiveness for those who slay Him? Who is being raised upon a tree, upon a cross? Who have we crucified, for all of the world and people and eternity and angels to see? Who? (I’m cold, I’m cold…) It is God. And we have thrown him away….
At times I have had to stop, take a second, and shake myself and say, “Yes, John H. Doe, this is really happening.” Sometimes that was not enough, and one of the higher ups had to do it. Jesus Christ interrupted my regularly scheduled reality to break in and say so to me. I don’t know if it is actually easier for me to believe that some of these things are happening than for someone else who is clued in to what exactly is possible in the paradigms I play in. What is real is real, no matter how much it resembles an hallucination. What Philip K. described as reality: that which, once you stop believing in it, it doesn’t go away. Doesn’t help the schizophrenics, though, who desperately want to stop believing in the things he hears and sees, but is simply unable to. And I have been diagnosed with that, if you must know; but some people will also will diagnose Joan of Arc and the prophet Ezekiel with it, too. Surely not all of us are mad?
The skeptic in me (the scientist, I like to think) still wants to label everything I see as a figment of my imagination. Which I’m sure many, if not most of you out there are wont to do. I completely understand. But, my goodness, what I have seen! I cannot pragmatically consider that my imagination, with schizophrenia supercharging it even, is so grand to have conjured up just everything that has been in my visions. (I have seen INFINITY!) What is pride here, what is the humility? To believe I have been given a mind so great to be capable on its own, to have such visions? Or that I have been blessed by a touch of God, to be given these sights and sensations? No win situation? No lose situation? On a profound high, I am, to see so where horizons lead.
One interesting vision I had was of how the elements gain their characteristics. It appeared in my mind while I was in Brooklyn, at a Throbbing Gristle concert, which I was invited to by my Russian friend, Boris. We had just had dinner, and I had had a drink during that, plus I was taking some cold medicine. So, on something of an altered state of mind, I saw the various elements in simple models, and what different electron “shells” they had (“shells” in quotes because it is a rather antiquated concept, but one that best describes how we can understand an atom’s interface). We realize that one only interacts with an atom via those “shells”. The nucleus pretty much only gives an atom its mass.
If we understand that elements behave the way they do, when encountering other elements or more of the same element, because of the structure of their electron “shells”, we understand the façade of their emergence to be the fundamental structure to what qualitatively we experience of any substance at all. The factors that are determined by placement of electrons emerge by their bonding to other elements, or the same, and the resultant molecular arrangements make emergent larger scale behavior and experientials of elemental substance and molecular structures. The devil is in the details, God is the God of small things. That is how fine tuned the qualities are of that which we call physical reality: the humming of the electrons sing into being all of creation.
There have been extraordinary visions I have had. Once God the Father showed me of what stuff Heaven is made. Along with that vision, I glommed a thing or two about what exactly was possible in There, during the War. I cannot, that is I cannot now summon the ability, to tell you how wonderful that place is, being God’s throne, whereas earth is merely His footstool. He also gave me an idea about what the proper usage of His name is, that of Yahweh. It is a holy name, and there is a reason you do not take the LORD’s name in vain. For one, saying you do things in the name of someone means you invoke their authority. Names carry such weight. Now pretend that a name is weightier than the whole of creation, seen and unseen. And carries more power. If that seemed a little scary, that is the correct reaction. If not, you might look into what grade level your reading comprehension stopped at.
Outside those special visions, I have had mostly a desaturated view, cartoonish, of the goings on in HALOSPACE. I suppose it’s so I don’t spend every day blitzed out in awe. Outlines like they are drawn there, of partial cartoons (enough so that I can tell just what they depict), usually shades of just one color. I joke, color-coded for my convenience. Yellow generally for Christ-like things, blue for more secular/normal things that are of good, and red or black tends to be bad guy stuff. They’re not always that way, and when they aren’t, I’m usually told so, and maybe why. Silently, through the angelic circuitry. The angels (and Jeanne d’Arc, too) tell me lots of things. I have not always been able to correctly gauge things for what they are, but my talent apparently is having the intestines that make from “garbage in”, “a pearl of great price”. You just need patience, and a lot of layers to sacrifice. So mote it be.
So, the last time I ended up in a mental institution, that day, I had been put through my paces in Angel Proving Grounds, which did look like NYC, but there were definitely differences to earth. I remember quite clearly, for one, that the walk and don’t walk electric signs were not a little white man walking and orange hand halting. They were strange alien sigils, abstract in form. Anyway, it ended with a trip in an ambulance because someone saw me huddled alone at night before a closed storefront and thought I might be having a stroke. I was cold (it was January, which I mistakenly said that it was July, I was so far out there) and for the last time, I thought I had blown it all; I thought I was irretrievably lost, for one final instance.
So, nice and warm in New York Presby, I was lying there, when some of the angels (Michael’s angels) related to me what some of the things they went through on the front lines of the War were like. Basically, what is reality? What if, if any of Michael’s angels failed, the world would have become irrecoverably deranged, fundamentally illogical? Flawed, and wrong? And this is what it means to be an angel of God: when the stakes are that high, you do not fail. Whatever that might mean, whatever effort you have to put out, whatever humiliation, blasphemy, feces, whatever that means you have to endure, or thrown at you, you do it. Because there literally is no other option.
The derangement Satan and his angels tried to perpetrate touches once more on how we take so much for granted — for instance, logic and consistency. What if you could not take some very fundamental things as certainties? For instance, if you have 8 things arranged in a rough circle, you can count on there being 8 spaces between them. What if you couldn’t? What if there were only 7? Or 6? What if you were trapped in something and needed to get out of one of those spaces, and the seeming escapes were not reality? Because there were pockets of the derangement, as they were being in attempt to inflict upon reality, in the War in Heaven, that existed enough to be dangerous, harmful at least to the angels that fought them. All of which had ramifications, high and low, to the very foundations of existence. In other words, it was as if Atlas, the titan who held up the sky, were being attacked…
