A WOMAN WHO KNEW JESUS

 

After working with Roger Woolger for six months learning to guide and be guided in regression work, the six members of the community who had chosen to do this work felt pretty comfortable with the process.

We invited Roger to put on a five-day workshop at our little lodge on Lake Elizabeth in the Taconic mountains which we had named Rainbow Camp - a workshop which would be open to the public as well as to the members of the community.

Being pretty familiar with Roger's methods of inducing an open state in which spontaneous memories of the past could arise, I felt comfortable asking him to use a different image from the one he had been using in which you chose a "road" to travel along on as a preliminary to finding yourself in another life, another self. I told him that each time the "road" that came to my mind was a narrow lane in Devon which always led me to the same place.

So this time he described the route in terms which could offer a wider variety of choices. Immediately I saw a well-defined white line which bisected the visual space of my inner vision. To either side of this white line, which was thick and well-defined, was emptiness, of an indefinite beige or neutral hue. It was some time before I realized that this line, which stretched from the top to the bottom of my visual field, was actually a straight road or trail through featureless desert, stretching far away to the horizon, and blending almost imperceptibly with the skyline. It was scorchingly hot, and we were traveling in a group along this trail. One of us was seated on a donkey, and the rest were walking.

Again, it was some time before I began to realize who my companions were. They were my dear Thomas, his brother Jesus himself and his mother Mary, who was riding the donkey. I did not stay long with this desert scene, but moved ahead to find out what would happen. The next scene I came upon was in what is now Pakistan. His mother was close to dying. I remember feeling deep, deep grief when she finally died in spite of all we could do, and was buried at the top of a very steep hill. I remember kneeling at the foot, crying and wailing at the pain of the loss and being comforted by Jesus, who laid his hand on my shoulder.

These are the only details I have recaptured of this life. I had had a glimpse of it earlier at the very end of our initial work with Roger, when he had us lie like the spokes of a wheel, with our heads close to the center, and had played Bach's glorious Toccata and Fugue in D Minor as interpreted by Leopold Stokowsky and the Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra! I had "gone" somewhere I did not afterwards remember, except that it was a very sacred "place," and that it was a life in which I was associated with Jesus, and that my name was Mary. I found this a very disturbing thought, and refused to learn more about this life at the time, not wanting to discover something about myself I could not accept, whatever it might be.

Several years later, I got in touch with a channeler whom I had met earlier to try to find out for me what the nature of the connection might be - and he finally got back to me, saying I had perhaps been a childhood friend - that Jesus and I had played together as children. Of course, not having verified this myself, I have no idea whether or not he was being accurate. I think now it is possible that I might have been Jesus' sister Mary, whom Professor Hassnain mentions in his book, Search for the Historical Jesus, as one of the group that traveled to India after the crucifixion. He mentions three Marys, one being Jesus' sister.

A passage from the Gospel of Philip - one of the Gnostic documents found at Nag Hammadi - reads as follows:

There were three who always walked with the Lord: Mary his mother and her sister and Magdalene, the one who was called his companion. His sister and his mother and his companion were each a Mary (NHC II.3.59.6-11) (Robinson 1988: 145).
 
Notice that the "other" Mary is referred to first as his mother's sister, but then as "his" sister.

And in the Gospel of John, there is a passage which reads:

Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby [i.e., Mary Magdalene], he said... (John 19:25ff)
 
So if I was one of the Marys, I was either his mother's or his sister. Or else the whole story is spurious! I certainly cannot tell.

But now, here I was on this trip from Palestine to Kashmir. I have no more of this life except the fragment above, but this much, at least, I am able to substantiate by my direct experience. About the presence of Mary Magdalen I am not sure, although my sense of her as a member of our party is undeniable. Hassnain says she died in Kashgar, which fits my sense of the thing. I apparently survived at least until we reached Kashmir, but I have no direct evidence of this fact.

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