“We only met last night and already you’re spoiling me,” confided Amanda as she and Andrew McCarthy walked south along Fourteenth Street. “The food was fabulous, and what a variety of flavors. I can’t remember when I’ve allowed myself the luxury of eating so much rich food at one sitting. I feel like I won’t have to eat for a week.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” replied the former Archbishop. “It pleases me that I’ve pleased you. I think your suggestion that we walk off our mutual overindulgence instead of eating desert was a great idea, even if the weather is a bit brisk.”
Amanda laughed and pulled the woolen jacket she wore tighter around her as a gust of wind tousled her shoulder length hair. “A little cold air never hurt anybody,” she said and increased her pace. “It gets the blood circulating, keeps it from rushing to your stomach and making you feel like you need a nap. Besides, now that the sun’s shining, I doubt that those dark and dreary snow clouds will be hanging around for very long.”
The two of them had just finished eating lunch at Celadon in the J.W. Marriott Hotel at National Place. They’d feasted on a delicious French Oriental buffet while Amanda talked about her career as an actress. McCarthy had listened intently, fascinated by her “behind the scenes” stories. She had turned out to be a very different person than he’d expected; not at all like the “over the hill starlet still looking for a headline” he’d initially supposed her to be. Now, they were headed for The Mall; one of the nation’s oldest federal parks, it ran east and west between the Lincoln Memorial and the Capitol.
“I did all the talking at lunch,” chided Amanda as McCarthy increased his own pace so that he stayed abreast of her. “Now it’s your turn to tell me about you.”
“There’s not a lot to tell,” Andrew replied, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his fleece-lined, camel’s hair overcoat to keep them warm. “The Church was my life for nearly half a century. It was all I knew.”
“You sound regretful.”
“Not regretful. A bit disillusioned perhaps, but definitely not regretful.”
“When did you first decide to become a priest?”
“When I was fifteen. Three years later, with my parents blessing, I entered the seminary. Over the next thirty-five years I worked my way up through the Church hierarchy, until I was finally appointed Archbishop. By that time, however, the seeds of disenchantment had been planted and taken root. During my ten-year tenure as Archbishop, the seedlings were amply watered and fertilized by the hypocrisy I saw around me. Ultimately, they grew into a forest of trees which I could no longer ignore.”
“That’s an impressive metaphor. Were things really that bad?”
McCarthy shrugged. “Cardinal Wyszynski of Warsaw, Pope John Paul’s mentor, once told me that ‘certain historical developments are willed by the Lord of History, and they shall take place. About many other—mostly minor—developments, the same Lord is willing. He allows men the free will to choose between various options, and he will go along with those choices; for, in the end, all human choices will be co-opted as grist into God’s mill, which grinds slowly but always grinds exceedingly fine.’
“In my case, I simply grew weary of a grinding process that selectively excluded those who did not profess theological beliefs similar to my own. I woke up one morning and realized that it was no longer acceptable for me to believe that everyone who wasn’t a Christian was going to hell. I also recognized that it would be virtually impossible for me to bring about change on the scale that was needed unless I had help from others within the Curia who believed as I did. That’s when the idea for the Council on Organized Religion came to me.”
“What exactly does the Council hope to accomplish?”
“In a word, aggiornamento,” replied McCarthy as they reached the National Museum of Modern History and turned left onto Madison Drive.
“Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.”
McCarthy smiled. “It means updating. We who comprise the elders on the Council intend to spearhead a revitalization of the Church, which has been in a shambles now for over two decades, and use the existing infrastructure as a template for creating a global force of egalitarian ecumenism.”
“That’s quite a mouthful.”
McCarthy could feel his adrenalin kick in, as it always did when he began to talk about his vision. As he focused his thoughts, he forgot about the cold. “You see, even though the world has been steadily evolving toward global hegemony since the end of the Second World War,” he continued enthusiastically, “the pace has increased dramatically in the last few years. Those of us who comprise the Council believe that the race towards a global economy is the greatest historical confrontation humanity has ever gone through. It’s one of the few areas in which the Pope and the Council are in agreement.
“It is also clear to us, as well as to others in similar positions of authority, that if mankind is to progress further along the evolutionary scale, humanity must become united. Like Baha ‘U’llah, the founder of the Baha’i faith, we believe that the world’s revealed religions can only be fulfilled by being transformed into a larger revelation—what “Baha U’llah referred to as the ‘Most Great Peace.’”
“And just who are the members that comprise this Council of yours?”
“A rapidly expanding group of individuals from all walks of life who share a similar vision. A new world order where separate religious affiliation won’t be necessary—or desirable—because all of the world’s existing religions will have become knit together into a truly universal religion.”
Amanda seemed impressed by what she was hearing. McCarthy wondered if his vision fit with her own ideas about the evolution of human consciousness. Ideas she had shared with him over lunch.
“That’s very interesting,” she said. “Tell me, how does the Council propose to accomplish this unification? It seems like a tall order.”
“Not if it’s done in increments.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“The process is called syncretism, which literally means to pour together.” McCarthy paused and selected his words carefully. “Think of the concept in terms of wine. Some are full bodied, others young, and still others bear the mark of great vintage. Under the Council’s guidance, believers from each religion, all with different opinions and convictions, will be encouraged to harvest small portions of their finest stock. Each tasting will then be poured together with the others to create one universal vintage. Once they are fused together, all of humanity can partake of the new wine.”
“You could even give this new wine its own cachet,” suggested Amanda. “Let’s see. What do you think about, ‘harmony of thought and feeling’?”
“I like it.”
“Me too.”
The two of them walked on for several minutes in silence. Finally, as they strolled past the National Gallery of Art, Amanda said, “I agree that something new and different is called for if we—and I mean humanity—are going to survive. But, given the weight of history, it still seems like an ambitious project.”
“I’m an ambitious man—and I believe you’re an ambitious woman.” McCarthy eyed her appraisingly. I have something to tell you which may come as a bit of a surprise, since we hardly know one another, but I’m sure it’s the right decision.”
“Oh, what is that?”
“I’ve spoken the other elders, and all of us are in agreement. We would like to invite you to become the first woman elder on the Council.”
Amanda stopped walking and stared him curiously. Oddly, she didn’t seem surprised. “Why?” was all she asked.
McCarthy stopped as well and turned to face her. “Because I believe you share our vision, and because you have talents we can use.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“We have a mutual friend—one who knows you quite well, it seems. It was he who suggested that I contact you in the first place. It was also his idea that I bring you into the Inner Sanctum.”
“And just who is this mystery man?”
“Vaughn Aurochs.”
Amanda laughed and resumed walking. “So it was Vaughn who put you up to this. I thought that might be the case. What did he tell you about me?”
McCarthy fell in step beside her once again. “That you were someone who could be a tremendous asset to the Council. And that you are a woman who is not easily intimidated.” The former archbishop chuckled. “After watching your performance last night, I’m inclined to agree.”
“Is that what you thought it was—a performance?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m not at all sure what I witnessed. But I confess, it sure got me thinking.”
“Well, I can assure you, Andrew, it wasn’t simply a performance. El most definitely is not a character in my repertoire.”
“Then what, or perhaps I should ask, who, is he?”
“Are you sure you want to know? The answer might upset your theological apple cart.”
McCarthy frowned as he remembered his recent telephone conversation with Karl Munch. His old schoolmate had asked him the same question just before he dropped his bombshell. “Go ahead, upset my apple cart. I’m sure this old heart of mine can take it,” he said as he patted his chest.
They’d reached the east end of The Mall and were now standing in front of the reflecting pool, in the area known as Union Square. The U.S. Capitol, which was located on the other side of the pool, was framed by the Peace monument on their left and the Garfield Monument on their right. The three-building structure which housed the Rotunda and the Statuary Hall, as well as the original Supreme Court and Senate chambers, was surrounded by a beautiful two hundred acre park and was the nexus of the four sections of the city. On the east side of the Capitol were the Supreme Court and the Library of Congress.
But what really dominated the grounds was the Grant Memorial, one of the largest equestrian statues in the world.
Amanda stared up at the imposing statue for several moments, captivated by its size and the artist’s dramatic attention to detail. “Do you mind if we stop and sit here for a few minutes?” she asked, indicating the grassy area in front of the pond. “Being close to water always seems to relax me.”
“Not at all,” McCarthy replied.
Amanda walked over and sat down on one of the park benches, then gazed into the depths of the pond for several minutes. McCarthy sat down beside her and marveled at the intensity of her concentration. He wondered if she was tapping some hidden reservoir of information to answer his question, or merely taking a moment to soak up the beauty surrounding them. His scrutiny of her was so intense that when she finally spoke, her voice startled him.
“The Hindu’s would call El a deva; a god or divinity, one of an order of good spirits. But I like to think of him simply as a spirit guide; a being of pure light who is at the apex of a non-physical hierarchy that has benevolently intervened in human affairs for millennia.”
“If El is a ‘being of light,’ as you put it, how does he communicate with you?”
“Through meditation. Over the past ten years, I’ve learned how to quickly enter a trance so that I can tune my own energy field to his particular frequency. In doing so, not only can I link my mind and spirit with El’s, but with other individuals on the planet who are equally dedicated to achieving a global mind-link.”
“With what result?”
“You and your Council hope to fuse the world’s religions into a unified whole and thereby rid mankind of artificial theological boundaries which promote intolerance. I, and others like me, hope to go one step further. We strive to bring the world into a unity of consciousness.”
McCarthy found himself completely caught up in Amanda’s explanation. “Go on,” he urged.
“Those of us who channel believe that life is a classroom experience, an opportunity to grow and learn from past mistakes. You see, all of us—you, me, those children over there—are timeless souls on an infinite journey. We pass through many different lifetimes, working off our karma. As fast as we learn one lesson, we move on to the next one.”
“I take it that you don’t believe in the concept of sin, then?”
Amanda smiled. “Certainly not in the Christian context. God is not just in all things, He is all things. A better way to put it is that we are all a part of who He is. There is no such thing as ‘sinning against God,’ because sin is really nothing more than ignorance. Once an individual grasps hold of that truth, it becomes obvious that concepts like good and evil are merely illusions, not absolutes.” She paused and cocked her head, as if she was listening to a voice only she could hear, then added. “I suppose a more concise statement would be that good and evil are both part of the illusion of existence.”
“How does all of this fit in with what you did last night?”
“In order for mankind to evolve to the next level of consciousness, humanity must achieve a reversal in the polarity of the negative force field in the race mind. Then, a critical mass of spiritual consciousness can be attained. Once that happens, a new era of Peace will be ushered in. And mankind will once again experience the fullness of the Godhead.”
“Talk about a mouthful!”
Amanda laughed, then said, “Think of it simply as a sort of consciousness cleansing on a planetary level.”
“What?”
“Have you ever heard of the Gaia concept?”
“Let’s see. If I remember my studies in mythology correctly, Gaia was the ancient Greek goddess of the earth and mountains.”
“Very good. But what I’m talking about goes far beyond simple mythology.”
“Oh?”
“We believe the Earth is a living organism that exists within a sort of cosmic consciousness. Mankind is only one of millions of life forms integrally related, via the Gaia principle, to the even larger concept of a universal entity or consciousness. And unless humanity undergoes a radical change in its consciousness, the living organism that is the Earth, the mother Goddess Gaia, is doomed to die.”
“Fascinating. Are you aware that there is biblical support for that idea?’
“Really? Where?”
“The Apostle Paul’s Epistle to the Romans: ‘For I consider the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope; because creation itself will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now.’“
“What a wonderful memory you have, Andrew. I’m certain it’s not everyone who can quote such passages at will. That’s quite a gift, you know.”
Flattered, McCarthy beamed. “Tell me more about this consciousness cleansing.”
“A number of years ago, an art historian by the name of Jose Arguelles wrote a book about the Mayans in which he set forth an extraordinary theory. Do you know what a ‘harmonic convergence’ is?”
“Something to do with the planets lining up, I think,” replied McCarthy hesitantly.
“That’s right. On August 16th and 17th 1986, for the first time in twenty-three thousand years, all of the planets in the solar system lined up exactly. For two entire days! Arguelles suggested that the convergence was actually the beginning of a period of cleansing for the earth and its inhabitants that would last until the end of 1992.”
“Six years?”
“We’ve built up a lot of negative energies in the past twenty-three thousand years.”
“I guess so.” McCarthy couldn’t keep a smile from his face. However, when he realized that Amanda was very serious he stopped smiling and asked, “What happened during this convergence?”
“People from all over the world, from every walk of life, converged on select sites to meditate and receive information from the higher galactic powers—what those of us who channel refer to as our spirit guides—preparing the earth for contact with alien intelligence at the turn of the century. Places like Stonehenge, Macchu Piccu, Glastonbury . . .”
“The English city of King Arthur?”
Amanda nodded and continued, “The massive Pyramid of the sun in San Juan de Tectihuacan in Mexico, the pyramids at Giza, Serpent Mound in Ohio, and Goat Island near Niagara Falls. The list goes on and on.”
“I take it you were involved.”
“Very much so. I was the key organizer of the international effort for the ‘86 convergence as well as for the follow-up opportunity last year, on January 11th.”
McCarthy sat quietly beside Amanda for several minutes and digested everything he’d heard. Finally, he said, “Well, so far, you haven’t said anything that’s upset my apple cart.”
“That’s because I haven’t told you who El really is, yet.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense any longer.”
Amanda’s eyes suddenly seemed to be filled with a strange kind of light. “He is the angel of man’s inner light, the bearer of the light of wisdom,” she replied in a somber voice, then paused and looked directly into McCarthy’s eyes. It seemed to him that she was staring into his soul. “He knocks at the door of man’s consciousness and waits for man to bid him to enter,” she continued. “When man responds, he becomes the angel of experience. His true name is Lucifer, son of the morning—the anointed cherub of Heaven.”