The Dead Saints Chronicles: A Zen Journey Through the Christian Afterlife

by David Solomon

  Looking back, it seems to me, and it may be universally true, that the teachers who were hardest on us, we learned the most. In ancient traditions, these teachers are called “Initiators,” a term Paul Solomon often used to separate teachers who were consciously aware of their role, versus unconscious teachers who still taught us major lessons, but were unaware they were doing so. The Initiator’s job is to kick us in the butt, push us off the cliff, force us to face and learn lessons we otherwise might not have faced or learned.

  Over the course of our Earth University experience, we all have Rice Paper Teachers. Some we recognize, some we don’t. Some may “look” like spiritual teachers, others do not. Most we can “see” walking among us on the great University campus, but some watch over us from above, guiding us during dreams from the Realms of Light, and from time to time, poke through the veil to walk with us and instruct us. One central theme binds these Rice Paper Teachers. They have a major impact on the direction of our lives. They are typically masters of an art, a science, or even business. There is a quality in the manner in which they live their lives, a softness in the voice, and a clarity in their thought. They are not typically famous and the majority of them are hardly perfect.

  All Rice Paper Teachers have staff members and faculty who support them. It’s important to get to know them too.

  Earth University: Staff, Teaching Assistants & Syllabus

  6th Century floor tile mosaic from the Beth Alpha Synagogue near Beit She’an, Israel. The colorful mosaic represents the symbolic 12 constellations of the Zodiac or “Wheel of Life.” In the center, the Charioteer is represented by the sun. Surrounded by the moon and the stars, he drives four horses of the four compass points: North, South, East and West. In the four corners of the mosiac, four female figures identify the seasons of the year. Reprinted with permission from Art Resource, NY.

  Enrollment in Earth University presupposes the idea a Syllabus was designed for each of us before we were born. A syllabus is often either set out by an “exam board,” or prepared by a “professor” who supervises or controls the course quality. Both syllabus and curriculum are often fused and usually given to each student during the first class session so the objectives and the means of obtaining them are clear. A syllabus usually contains specific information about the course, teaching assistants, and an outline of what will be covered in the course. A schedule of test dates and the due dates for assignments, along with the grading policy for the course and specific classroom rules are also given.

  Twelve Earth University Lessons

  All major religions describe 12 paths or lessons that are presented to us in Earth University. While it is beyond the scope of the Chronicles to address these lessons individually, it is important to point out their prevalence in Scripture. In the Hebrew tradition the 12 paths were represented by the 12 sons of Jacob; Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah, Dan, Naphtali, Gad, Asher, Issachar, Zebulun, Joseph, and Benjamin.

  The 12 sons of Jacob also reflected the 12 constellations in the zodiac. A 6th century mosaic of the zodiac reflects this belief on a tiled floor of the Beth Alpha Synagogue in Israel, and in six other early era synagogues. The rabbis who built their synagogues with depictions of the zodiac may have been illustrating Ezekiel’s vision of a divine chariot driven by God (represented by the sun) that ordered the movement of the 12 constellations, the moon and the stars. Regardless of their intent, what in Heaven’s name were they doing? How could they create tiled mosaic pictures in a synagogue? Did they not read the second commandment in Exodus 20:4-5 about worshipping graven images? An explanation to the mystery may be forthcoming from Hebrew scholars who say the second commandment could be interpreted conditionally, “make no graven images…which you worship.”

  Early Christian founding fathers prohibited the making of zodiacs in the early church until after the Middle Ages. According to archeologists, “There is not one zodiac mosaic in a church that dates before the Middle Ages.”2 Though the U.S. is an overwhelmingly Christian country, a survey by the Pew Forum in 2009 found 23% of American Christians still expressed a belief in astrology.3 An ancient and honorable enemy to be sure, in principle, the zodiac is the antithesis and enemy to monotheistic religions. So why did the Hebrew priests have the floors of their synagogues tiled with them? And why do a significant percentage of Christians believe in it?

  Dead Saint’s Vision of a Zodiac Wheel

  William describes 12 spokes of a large wheel representing the constellations of the zodiac, revealed to him during his NDE:

  I would have to say this occurred about halfway through my last NDE. My last NDE was not one single trip but actually seven trips. I would leave my body, not only to escape the tremendous pain I was in, but also to continue those things I was being instructed in on the other side. It was during the third or fourth trip when I was taken in a room that had a large wheel on the floor, at the end of each spoke of the wheel stood a pillar. The wheel had 12 spokes and subsequently there were 12 pillars at the end of each spoke. Each pillar also contained 12 crystals and 12 symbols. Some of these symbols were representative of the astrological star constellations of the zodiac.4

  As William describes above, at the end of each spoke was a pillar. When I refer to the lessons we experience in Earth University, I am referring to these 12 pillars. Each of the 12 pillars represents and revolves around the following 12 major life lessons:

  Alrightness

  Intuition

  Sexuality

  Purity of Heart

  Loyalty

  Balance

  Creativity

  Discipline

  Money

  Judgement / Discernment

  Communication

  Power

  While our lessons involve electives from all 12 pillars, most of us focus on one pillar at a time. It is our strength, but it can also be our weakness. Each pillar has its strengths, weaknesses, and purpose. The permutations of pillar lessons combined are many, but ultimately originate from these 12. Later, the 12 lessons were personified by in Jesus’s choice of 12 apostles, and symbolically memorialized in the Book of Revelation by the Virgin with a crown of 12 stars and the description of the Holy City with 12 gates, 12 stones, and 12 fruits of the Tree of Life in the celestial New Jerusalem.

  Joseph Weiss, in his excellent book, The Gospel in the Stars,5 helps set a Biblical foundation behind this 6000-year-old astronomical/astrological mystery. I highly suggest you get a copy and carefully study it, as it answers from a Judeo/Christian point of view, many questions about the purpose of God’s handiwork written in constellations and stars in the heavens.

  Masonic Pewter Ceremonial Water Pot

  The symbol of 12 kept showing up in my life. John, a long-time friend, was visiting my home at Akio in December 2012 to install his latest version of the HydroSonic InfraSound Relaxation System6 in my Egyptian Spa room. During his stay, he saw a heavy, antique 8-inch-high serpent snouted hammered pewter water pot sitting on my library shelf. When he saw it, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

  “Where did you get that?”

  Unknown Masonic Lodge Symbol

  Surprised at his reaction, I said, “When Delynn cleaned out the garage a few months ago, she found it buried at the bottom of a cardboard box.”

  He turned it over and on the bottom of the pot was the traditional Mason compass and ruler, but instead of a “G” in the center, there was a 12-spoked zodiac wheel with the pewter metal smith stamp “Etain Fin.” We could see with a magnifying glass at the center of the wheel, an Ouroboros—a serpent swallowing its tail.

  I asked John, “What is it?”

  He looked exasperated. “I’m only a
3rd degree Mason, but the last time I saw one that remotely looked like your pot was on a ceremonial Masonic altar. You are not supposed to have this.”

  “So now what?”

  “Well, hold onto it. Keep it safe. Maybe God will someday reveal to you why.” I put pot aside hoping we could solve the riddle together someday. We never got the chance. John lost his fight with cancer ten months later on October 20, 2013. I’ve searched the internet. The symbol has never been seen on any known Masonic artwork. Nobody knows or they won’t tell. Today, it reverently rests on my altar waiting for an answer.

  Teachers and Tutors

  Sometimes in the midst of our learning schedule, we may seek further guidance. As an ancient Eastern proverb declares, “when the student is ready, the Teacher appears” or in some cases, a Guru appears.” Of course, the same thing happened with John the Baptist and with Jesus. These great teachers found their students. Perhaps, this is what happened to me.

  When I look back over my life, I realize I may have had great, unseen, ethereal “Rice Paper Teachers” guiding me. When I go back to my journals and re-read my dreams, I could probably name a few who would visit me from time to time, and you may guess some of them as you read further in the Chronicles, but for now I will keep them to myself.

  Paul Solomon was my first “physical” Rice Paper Teacher. I remember very clearly the first of my many journeys with him, forty days after my first visit to Hearthfire Lodge. It was October 8, 1979. Destination: Australia. My job: travel assistant. I had absolutely no idea what to expect, or what was expected of me, nor any idea of what I would be learning. I was 20 years old, a kid.

  But like Master Po, who called Kwai Chang, “Grasshopper,” so Paul had already anointed me the Dweeper. I guess he came up with the nickname by combining my first name “Dwayne” with my half-closed, squinting Japanese eyes.

  Not only did I get a new nickname, I got a new name. Early on, while traveling with Paul Solomon in 1979, he suggested I consider changing my name to represent the spiritual change in my life during baptism7 to reflect the new man I wanted to become. My own choices of names came down to Michael or David. Michael seemed too gentle. I had always adored the leadership, strength and spiritual commitment of King David. I needed that. I was always a bit too shy, too laid back, too reclusive, too much like a monk. After baptism, like Paul Solomon, who changed his name a decade earlier from William Bilo Dove, I changed my name from Dwayne to David, and was known for a few years as David Earley.

  By 1984, Paul had become more like a father to me than a teacher, and often would refer to me as his ‘adopted son.’ So, to reflect the man who was like my second father, I adopted his surname to complete my name change and was baptized in the Jordan River in Israel, David Ben Solomon, which I later made official at the Rockingham County Courthouse in Virginia.

  My job description was simple. I was to arrange the air travel with a local travel agent. I packed and carried his suitcases, washed and ironed clothes, retrieved the morning paper, filled his metal thermos with hot Folgers instant coffee several times a day, packed in his black, leather shoulder bag, seven of his meerschaum pipes with his favorite blend of cherry and mango tobacco-and kept them packed since he smoked throughout the day, and when necessary, I cooked. It was my responsibility to make sure he got to lectures on time, had transportation, and made all his personal appointments.

  Paul left everything in my hands to screw up, and so I did. After a few months of touring Australia, (Sydney, Melbourne, and the southeastern Gold Coast), we were off to Christchurch, New Zealand.)

  As our plane left the ground, I suddenly realized I had left the case with all his expensive suits on a hanger on the back of the hotel door. It took me an hour to work up the courage to tell Paul. He barely reacted. Of course, as soon as we landed, I called the hotel to have them check the room for the clothes. They found the suit bag and arranged to send it back on the next flight out. And, I made more-or-less the same mistake with the ill-fated suit bag on the return home through Hawaii. Luckily, again we got it back.

  As with Master Po and Kwai Chang, the objective was to cultivate mindfulness-an awareness of my actions, my thoughts, and my own state of consciousness. It was not about the suit bag …which in fact I never left behind again. Over the years, I put Paul Solomon through any number of awkward situations, but for me, the lesson each time involved becoming aware of my role and responding to the needs of others. They were mop-and-bucket lessons—for it is only by becoming conscious of the lesson, we give ourselves the chance to master it.

  We can read thousands of Dead Saints testimonials and see them, especially in aggregate, as a unique introduction to the higher wisdom. They should convince all but the terminally unteachable that we are immortal. However, they will not, in and of themselves, teach patience, service, or the art of listening. They will not teach us, or teach anyone else, how to love or how to be present in the moment.

  Paul Solomon also widened my focus. He taught me the Earth University syllabus involved more than an awareness of personal surroundings. It was necessary for me and for all of us to be conscious of our local and our global environment. This was why he read The Washington Post religiously every day. The inner spiritual world of communication, intuition and dreams should not be divorced from the secular outer world that is its framework.

  My first year on the job was devoted to service. It was a simple enough teaching that would have a profound and complicated impact. At times, it was frustrating, because it seemed I was missing all the good stuff being taught in Paul’s classes and lectures. Though I was able to keep journal notes and reflect upon the spiritual truths Paul so generously sowed, it was tempting to try to tell everyone I met in the outside world about these great truths. But seeing to Paul’s personal needs, i.e., filling pipes, keeping coffee brewed, filling the taxing daily double role of secretary/assistant, left me little or no socializing time at all.

  He kept me focused on the importance of paying attention to detail—the little things that are recorded in our Book of Life and that we will be held responsible for during our Life Review and Judgment at the end of our lives. Paul commonly pointed out to me about little things and innocent errors I did unconsciously—errors that miss the mark that will appear ultimately important in the life we will all review when we die. He referenced Scripture in the Song of Solomon 2:15:

  Catch all the foxes. Those little foxes before they ruin the vineyard of love for the grapevines are blossoming. They could go in and out among those vines and nip at them.

  That is why the constant admonition to keep a journal. I needed to notice the little foxes spoiling the vines in my life. They are not obvious. While they do not seem important, they spoil the young vines of spiritual growth I planted every day in the garden of my heart.

  Many Earth University lessons that Rice Paper Teachers teach may be found in the Bible. With his Southern Baptist background, Paul Solomon was particularly good at illuminating Bible passages that were not normally recognized for the wisdom enshrined within them. These passages also commonly find unwitting expression in the accounts of the Dead Saints.

  The Foundation to All Learning: Alrightness

  In the Gospel of Matthew (22:37) a lawyer of the Pharisee tests Jesus about His understanding of the Law, “Master, which is the greatest commandment in the law?” Jesus responded by saying, ‘Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment, and the second is like unto it: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.’”

  We might elaborate, adding, “On these two commandments hang all of the lessons we will ever learn.” Arguably, the most ignored injunction in Christ’s gospel is love thy neighbor as thyself. Learning to love thyself…unconditionally…is a lesson Paul Solomon coined alrightness.8

  T
he seeking of alrightness may be the single most powerful motivating force known to humanity. Almost everything we do is directed toward establishing or proving our alrightness in the eyes of our neighbor. A lack of inner alrightness instills fear and it is fear that makes us take foolish and ill-considered actions that are not in our own best interest. We decorate our homes to demonstrate our alrightness. The clothes we often choose project our alrightness. If we truly examine what we say and think, we find much of it is driven by the need to be acceptable to others. It is easy enough to test the hypothesis on the material plane. How many things would you have bought if you knew nobody else would ever see them?

  I do not condemn surrounding ourselves with beautiful things—harmoniously designed material creations carry the imprimatur of the Creator—they communicate our feelings about alrightness. We should, therefore, be honest with the motives that drive us to surround ourselves with material things. It’s not about right and wrong or how much we spent. It’s about motive and intent.

  Where does this all-consuming quest for alrightness come from, anyhow? What might be viewed as the signature aspect of contemporary society has been in place throughout recorded history, but it has generally been regarded very differently. What, over the millennia, the sages, saints, mystics, prophets, philosophers, rishis, gurus, masters and dervishes have railed and inveighed against as evil incarnate, our current worship of materialism has effectively sanctified.

  What the prophet of Ecclesiastes excoriated as the “vanity of vanities” (aka ‘Alrightness’) is now extolled in its various guises as the ultimate aim in human life. “Success” “ambition” “renown” “fame” “respect” “admiration” “popularity” and “wealth” is the best we can expect out of life …since that is all there is.