A Perspective on Jesus

(Aaron has told us that at the time of Jesus' birth he was a very young child living in the hills in that country with his father who was a shepherd. As an adult he came to know this master and became a follower. Aaron emphasizes that in that lifetime, even as an adult, he was "just a simple shepherd, unlearned …" and not one of a core group who were the great disciples of Jesus. Nevertheless, he had great love for his teacher and gratitude for his teaching.

Each year Aaron has shared stories with us about what he learned from this beloved teacher. He offers them as "teaching stories." The stories in this chapter have been drawn from the book Aaron's Christmas Stories, given during the years 1989 to 1993.)

December 5, 1989

Aaron: I would like to talk to you about that Teacher you call Jesus. You are in the midst of your annual celebration of his birth. Do you understand what that birth really means, who he was and what was truly given? I see much confusion between the true gift and church doctrine that has grown up around it. I do not mean to offend anyone here. Your private and group myths are important to you and must be deeply respected. Yet the beauty of this gift is such that it needs no other myths to support it.

I have told you that you are all sparks of God, evolving slowly through your many lifetimes to perfect light and to mature compatibility with your Creator. Since the dawn of time a few beings have so evolved as to become pure and radiant light, filling the universe with their luminescence. Such beings truly sit at the side of God, and the power of their light and love are inextinguishable.

Such a being is the spirit of the man you call Jesus. For God, this spirit was the proof of His divine plan, the perfect example of what all mankind could become. As such he was deeply beloved, the Son of God as you are all sons and daughters of God, and yet especially cherished because he was the first to reach this divine perfection.

Your earth in those days was full of war, of misunderstanding, of hatred, of chaos. There were those who believed that God taught that one being should avenge himself on another, and one nation avenge itself on another. Such bloodshed was enacted in the name of God. There were those who taught that God's laws were a matter of convenience, that murder was permitted in His name. These were not people meaning to do evil, but beings filled with misunderstandings. Many of you were there. Ask your higher self's memories if this is not how it was.

Seeing the misunderstandings that filled the world, God grieved for His children. So he asked His Son, who stood by his side, to give a great gift to mankind, to take it unto himself to return to that human plane to teach lessons of love, compassion and forgiveness. The gift was no less God's, for He was giving this beloved Son unto the pain and chaos of the physical plane.

The spirit of the man you know as Jesus agreed to God's request, with gladness that he might serve Him. He fully understood what he agreed to, that in returning to this physical plane, in agreeing to incarnate in human form, he was taking on all the pains of human birth. He agreed to the forgetting of his true self. Although this forgetting did not reach the level it reaches with most humans, there were to be times of deep doubt and despair. He agreed to the physical pains of the human body, of the frailty of the human form. Do you think those nails that penetrated his flesh at his crucifixion were painless? Out of love, and to give love, he gladly accepted whatever agony he might face.

He came to teach God's true messages of love and peace to a weary, chaotic, pain filled world. This is the true gift of his birth and his life. He had free will, as have all beings. He could have said no, and God would not have loved him any less. Do you understand what it means to freely and willingly leave that perfect Light and Love? Can you understand how much this Holy Spirit loved mankind and God, to accept this mission of teaching? Only perfect love could have made this choice, and only perfect love would have been able to teach such love to others. Had he said no, the world would have continued on in darkness until another being was so evolved as to be able to perform this task.

The other gift of this season's is God's. Which of you could send a beloved child to a place torn by war and hatred, to certain agony, to teach others?

As you think about his incarnation this season, to become the teacher known as Jesus, as you think about the teachings of love and peace and forgiveness, think also about the gift that was given-the gift of love. Let all your gifts that commemorate this birth be gifts of love and forgiveness, each to another, so that he may see that his lessons are truly being learned. This is the greatest gift you can give him, the way you can best honor his gift-to love one another.

I love you all and wish you a happy Christmas filled with peace and the beauty of God's and Christ's love.

December 19, 1990

It would seem fitting that we talk tonight about he whose birth you will celebrate next week … he who in his final incarnation was known as Jesus. You know that all of us have lived many past lives-myself as well as you-and there were a number of you who were incarnate on the earth at that time, two thousand years ago, as I was. I have shared few of my memories for they all fall into that category of "You do not need to know." Yet, for each of us there are certain memories that stand out through an infinite number of lifetimes. I'd like to simply share with you this beautiful one.

I'm not going to try to separate for you tonight what has been built up as myth about the story of his birth, and what was real. Was such a being born near the area of Bethlehem about two thousand years ago? Yes, he was. We will not quibble over the exact date, nor the details of that birth. The facts of his birth are far less important than what he taught.

At the time of his birth I was a young boy of six or seven, a shepherd boy in the hills outside that town of Bethlehem with my father and older brother. The emotional climate of the world in that time was very different than it is today. Yes, there is war and hatred in many parts of the world today, but there is a new word, the concept of which barely existed two thousand years ago in much of the world. That word is "forgiveness." Instead, the prevailing philosophy was that of, "An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth." "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you," was distorted to, "Do unto others as they do unto you." If he hits, hit him back. Protect yourself.

There was an effort to follow the Ten Commandments: not to steal, not to kill. But it was acceptable to kill in self defense. That wasn't considered killing. If one harmed you or those you loved, it was quite acceptable to seek revenge against that one and those he loved. You may think this sounds little different than today's world. Certainly, for some individuals, it is little different. But today for most individuals and even as a nation, there is an effort at forgiveness. Look at your relationships today with Japan or Germany. The past is past, and hate is not extended to the citizens of those nations.

So this is the world in which I lived-a young boy sitting wrapped in a blanket by a fire on that cool evening-a very peaceful scene. My father and the other men told stories. On that night of memory, the air grew very still. Suddenly there was a brilliant star. That much is fact, as I saw it. Below me, in the valley some distance away was the town that has come to be known as Bethlehem.

Never had I seen a star like that before. Neither had the elders, I supposed, because everyone grew very quiet. Some felt afraid, but most felt a deep sense of peace and wonder. You have all seen a full moon shining on a snowy scene, the way the world seems to radiate light. That star did the same thing. The world seemed lit from within.

I can't say the light was focused over a special building, a stable or any other dwelling. I can't say it was not, either. I didn't observe that; I was a young child on a hillside. But there was such a sense of deep peace, such a brilliance to the light. Music seemed to fill the air, not music which is heard with one's ears but music which is heard with one's heart.

We were drawn as if by a magnet to descend the hills. There were many, and my father was hesitant to leave our sheep and go too far. So we did not go all the way down into the town, but stayed on the hillside.

It was a night like none I have ever known before or since. The strongest memory is that of deep peace, and of a profound joy that something had happened-something far beyond the understanding of that young boy I was, but something that would profoundly change the world.

Many went all the way into town. Others of us stayed closer to our flocks on the hillsides. But no matter where you were, Light permeated everything. It seemed almost as if the earth itself glowed. We were awed, not just myself as a child but the adults as well. Many began to pray.

We sat there for many hours. Some of those who had gone all the way into town began to return. I was dozing by this time, asleep in my father's arms, hearing just the faint words of elders whispered past me in the still, morning hours: "A child is born. They call him the Prince of Peace. They say that his teachings will change the world."

Then I remember my father's strong arms lifting me and carrying me back up the hill to our fire. I slept with a sense of joy and peace that I had never known before-a sense that somehow much that was wrong with the world might be righted-that new hope was born.

I give you this memory to share what his birth meant to me. Think, if you will as you celebrate his birth, of this gift of forgiveness and how his teachings changed the world.

December 18, 1991

As in past years, this week before the annual commemoration of his birth I'd like to speak about that being you know as Jesus or the Christ. Those of you who know me understand that I do not share from the viewpoint of a Christian. I am a spirit who resides beyond the bounds of any one religious doctrine but who has great love for this beautiful and loving being. What I wish to share is my own sense of who he was and why he was here.

This is a being whose light was already purified. He had no need to incarnate for himself, and yet he willingly did so as a way of serving others. Last year I spoke about being present in that part of the world at the time of his birth. No, I did not see the infant Jesus, but I was the son of a shepherd-a very young boy tending sheep on a hillside-and there was that star … Not only a star, but the air was filled with angelic presences. Now, that in itself isn't unusual. The air is often filled with loving spirits. What was unusual was the strength of this being, that even those who might have been skeptical could sense the strength of energy that was present, and the love.

So many felt awe, having the sense that this was someone special. Had he encouraged that awe, he could have grown into a very powerful being and wielded his power for his own gratification. It would have been easy to do, because there was much awe about his birth. And yet, he went to great ends to do the opposite.

I knew him as a young man. My father brought me to see him when I was grown and my father an old man. At that first meeting I became totally devoted to him. I was not a teacher nor a wise man of any sort but a simple shepherd, but I knew this was a being I would follow anywhere. He simply radiated peace and love, and yet, he did not make use of that for his own power. To me, this was his most important quality. I know that stories are told of the miracles he did, but far more important are the much quieter acts he performed.

I came to him once after traveling for many days. I had been stopped by outlaws … robbers. They took my clothing and my shoes. They left me with only a garment resembling a loincloth, and a small bit of water. Like that I traveled two more days over wilderness terrain.

He had been traveling at that time, traveling to a part of the country near my home, and that was why I was able to come and see him. When I reached his encampment, he knew me, he remembered me. My feet were bleeding and I was very, very thirsty. Yes, he could perform miracles, I suppose. He could have touched me and healed my feet, but he didn't do that. Instead, he sat me down and provided an appropriate amount of simple food and water. Then, with his own hands, he washed my feet and bandaged them. He could have asked another to do that, but he did it himself. They were so badly cut that it should have taken ten days or more for them to heal, yet in three or four days they were whole. I didn't wonder about it then. I thought my healing power within myself had done this. Now, as I look back, I recognize that it was his work.

Had he miraculously healed them, I would have been in awe of him, and he didn't want that. He didn't want blind devotion. It is this quality of him that I cherished most as I knew him in that lifetime, that he understood that he was human. He did not want to be worshipped as a God.

For a God to teach forgiveness, to teach that one should turn the other cheek and love those who torment one, people could say, "Well, that's fine for you to say, but you're not human." But the point is that he was human, fully human. He felt the same pain as any other human. He had the same desire for acceptance and for love as any human. But he, more than any other being in history I would suppose, clearly understood the nature of his divine spirit.

Now, I tell you that every being is of the same nature. The same divine spirit resides in each of you. No, you are not fully evolved as he was. You still have karma that needs to be resolved. You are not yet beyond the astral plane as he was. And you have not come back just for love, but because karma has drawn you back. Nevertheless, your spirit is no less holy, no less perfect and beautiful.

It is this that seems to me most wonderful, that he knew that to be an effective teacher it had to be realized that he was human. Far more often than not, he emphasized that humanness. He let people see that he bled when he was cut, that he felt pain when there was pain, and that he still could forgive and could love.

The epitome of this plan is his death. Certainly, one as powerful as he could have avoided such a painful death if he had chosen to do so. What would have happened to all he had taught if he had escaped that death? What if he had allowed himself to become a powerful king whom many idolized and to whom they paid homage? Could the message of love been as clearly taught? Is there any way it could have been taught as directly as through those beautiful words as he died in agony, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do."

How can we follow that message with our hearts today, learning the lessons of forgiveness as one very beautiful human being taught them? That truly is the challenge of all our lives: to learn that level of unconditional love, compassion and forgiveness, to truly have peace in our own hearts so the energy of the Eternal may flow through us, and through our own hearts, on to all that is.

December 19, 1991

In speaking last night of he who was known as Jesus, I emphasized that they who came to be his followers related to him, not because they thought of him as God, but because of the very beautiful human qualities in him, because he did not set himself above the suffering we all encounter. He did not set himself apart, nor wish to be worshipped in any way. He did not call himself God.

(Long pause.) I am sorting out memories. There was a time when I was traveling with him. We came to a village where his reputation had preceded him, where there were those who shunned him and those who sought him out. Those who came after him wanted to hold him on a pedestal. They brought out food and wanted to serve him and to set an elaborate table. He sat down, as the others did … No, not at a table but on the ground. This was a rural village. When I say "set an elaborate table," I mean to bring out the best they had.

They brought him a plate of sorts … more of a bowl … with many foods in it, and they served him first. I know he was hungry. We all were. We had been traveling for several days with little food. At the outskirts of the circle, a young child was watching. He was thin and had sores on his body. There was obviously both disease and scarcity of food in this village. They were serving him their best, and the child watched wide-eyed.

One of those who was serving noticed Jesus looking at the child and moved to shoo him away, "Get out of here. Go on." He said to Jesus, "That is the son of one who disdains you."

Jesus simply stood up, took his bowl of food and carried it to the child. The boy was frightened, having been told to go and seeing this man walking toward him. In a gentle voice, Jesus reassured him, "I will not hurt you. Would you like food?" He sat down on the ground, held the bowl out, handed it to the child. He asked for clean cloths and water. While the child ate, he washed his sores.

Just that. There was no lecture. Certainly he could have used it as an example: Love your enemy. Words were totally unnecessary. The simplicity and grace of his living example was all that was needed.

There were other children there. This one had been the boldest. The others approached; seeing this one eating made them braver. The food was shared with all. At first there was fear on the hosts' faces, for they had served their best and there was little of it. But as the food was passed around, there was plenty. I didn't know if he did it or how it happened; I was a simple man. But there was enough for all who were hungry to eat.

There was another day I remember when we were in a very poor place. Please do not mistake my stories to think that I was very close to him or followed him all the time. He traveled a bit and when he came close to where I lived and word was passed of his coming, I would travel to that place to be with him for awhile. This happened at most one time a year, that I had the blessing of these few days with him before I needed to return to my family, my sheep, my responsibilities. There were many with him. I was not one of a select few in any way.

We were gathered in a barn of some sort, a flimsy shelter against a great storm. The roof was leaking everywhere, and yet it was still better than no shelter. There was thatching material available to mend the roof. The being whose barn it was had been injured and was unable to do that work. So when the rain let up a bit, some of the younger and stronger of us went out into the cold and wet to make repairs as best we could, to weave in some of this new thatch. It is a job far easier to do in clear weather.

He came with us. He didn't have to. He could have stayed inside, in the driest spot. He did not talk about it; he just came. Such work in cold weather may lead one's hands to become raw and bleeding, especially the fingertips. His hands bled along with ours. I'm sure he could have stopped that if he wanted to. Instead, he bore it with all of us. When we were done and the roof leaking considerably less, we came inside. He simply took each of our hands in his, not to perform miracles but as a way of saying thank you, of sharing the comradeship. Somehow, in his touch, much as I told last night, there was some degree of healing.

I'm sure he could have instantly healed those torn hands of ours-he was able to perform such miracles although I never saw him do them-but he chose not to awe us with his miracles, but to do his work quietly. At his touch the pain simply receded, almost to the point that we were not aware that it had happened. It wasn't until thinking about it much later that I realized it had been his touch that had taken away the pain and soreness and led to prompt healing of the split skin.

I was not an educated man, nor political. I didn't understand the political forces of that time, only the forces of hunger, of disease and suffering, and of love. I was a very simple person. What I responded to most was his love, his humility, honesty and kindness. But I also responded to his humanness, to the fact that he felt sadness as well as joy, that he felt pain when his body was injured, that he was clearly human.

People have asked me about the stories of his divine birth through a virgin and I've declined to answer. Each religion builds the myths that are useful to it. In stating it that way, I'm not implying that immaculate conception is a myth. I don't know. On the etheric plane, such is clearly possible. It doesn't matter. Upon taking birth, he was human. However he came to this incarnation, by whatever route he moved into human form, once in human form he was human. His willingness to take birth in this world of suffering so as to teach most effectively is one of the greatest gifts ever given on this earth.

May I answer your questions?

Question: Are there others like Christ and the Buddha who have walked this earth, who do so today?

Aaron: There are beings who have reached that level of evolution, but very few who, having moved to that level, have returned to human form-very few. You must understand the difference between these two. The Christ was a sixth density being who came only to serve, only for the immensity of his love. He had been human in many past incarnations but had long since moved past this cycle of birth and death. He stood at the threshold of dissolving the mental body, approaching readiness to move back fully into the light. Yet he willingly moved back to the earth plane and the torment of having to again enclose himself in the illusion of self.

In incarnating as a human he entered into those laws that bind humans. Any anger, hatred or fear within him could lead to adhering karma and the need to take rebirth. He knew that. While he did not have the veil of forgetting that most humans experience at birth, so he had clear memory of who he was and why he came, yet he knew he would be human and he was still willing to come.

On the spirit plane there are many highly evolved beings who serve humans-who serve all beings, human and non-human-but very few who have willingly chosen to return from that Light to the human plane to serve. And yet, it's the only way it could have been done. It is one thing to receive divine guidance and another to see a fellow human practice what he teaches, even to his own death. The power of that is profound. This, to me, is his greatest gift, his willingness to serve, even to that degree, and the fact that he did not take advantage of his clear seeing of who he was and why he had come to avoid the pain of being human.

Can you see that even the smallest avoidance of that common humanity would have set him apart, so that his teaching could not have been nearly as effective?

The Buddha who was born as Siddartha Gautama incarnated into what would be his final lifetime as human. He needed to come to that birth for his own liberation. The depth of his understanding and the purity of his being were such that, after leaving his body, he was not only ready to move beyond the cycle of birth and death, but he had no need to move through the fourth and fifth densities. He moved from third to sixth density in one leap. He totally dissolved the emotional body while on this plane. The lessons of wisdom and compassion had long since been mastered. Few have done that. Even he whom you knew as Jesus moved from his final human lifetime before that last incarnation, through fourth and fifth densities, and into sixth.

Thus, the Buddha is a beautiful example and inspiration of what one can learn in human form, of the preciousness of human birth. The Buddha became, in that final lifetime, what Jesus already was when he came to that lifetime.

Q: Are Christians more evolved in some way?

A: Every religion on earth which is rooted in love is a viable path to enlightenment, to graduation from this human plane. What is a Christian? Through fear, the Church has distorted the meaning of this word. Perhaps more murder and ill will has been performed in Christ's name than have loving deeds, sad though that may be.

There are a great many that I would consider as Christians who are not a member of that Church, but are like those of us of his time, who did not call ourselves Christian, but simply followed this being and pledged ourselves to live his message of love and forgiveness as fully as we could. The label is unimportant. All beings who commit themselves to live with awareness, with love and forgiveness, with non-harm to others, are on the path to liberation from this cycle of birth and death and add their light to touch the dark corners of the universe.

Q: Was Jesus called Jesus back in that lifetime or did you know him by another name? You keep saying, "He who was called Jesus."

A: Some called him Jesus, or the correct translation of that name, some called him "the carpenter" or "the carpenter from Nazareth." Among some he was simply known as "the teacher." Yes, there were many teachers, and yet he came to be called that by many. When I say, "He whom you know as Jesus," I do that more to distinguish this lifetime, because this spirit also lived other lives. Yes, he had reached the point where he no longer needed to incarnate in human form, but to reach that point he had lived a great many lives. In naming him in that way, I am referring to this specific incarnation.

Q: Did Jesus practice meditation?

A: He was familiar with the practice of meditation. I would suppose that he learned that practice in the East, but that is conjecture. He was able to move freely into a jhanic state-a state of profound concentration-understood the practice of that, and also understood that it could be an escape and so did not frequently indulge himself in that practice.

From my own experience with him in that lifetime, I saw him recommend the practice of meditation, not only prayer but meditation, to others. I knew little on an intellectual level about what he taught, and he did not speak of such things often.

Meditation was more a part of his own training than what he taught to others. He taught by example. He prayed and meditated, so those around him did the same. What he taught was very simple: Forgive, open your heart, offer love in return to hatred and fear, know God's presence in each being and relate to everything through its divinity.

Q: Were there other teachers on the level of Jesus and the Buddha? Is there one incarnate today?

A: Yes, there have been other such beings. None have become as well known, yet they have always inspired those around them, even if it was only a small group. What strikes me as important here is that an essential part of the Christ's and the Buddha's lifetimes was their intent to serve and to teach. Jesus incarnated with that intention. Upon Siddartha Gautama's enlightenment, when he became The Buddha or awakened one, he made the decision, "I must share this path of liberation from suffering with others."

There have been others who have not made that decision-not by reason of service to self; of course they have moved beyond that-but through a clear understanding, "my work lies elsewhere. I share who and what I am with those around me, but after the death of this body, my work lies elsewhere." There are many such teachers on my plane.

Let us return to "density" again. In fourth and fifth densities there are still the vestiges of an emotional body. In sixth density the emotional body is dissolved, yet there is still a bit of "self" as there is still personal awareness and memory. Seventh density is the beginning of moving beyond self, when the mental body falls away. There must be a notion of self in order to teach others. Pure awareness cannot channel concept which is necessary for teaching in the lower densities. What both Christ and the Buddha did was to agree to remain in sixth density so they could function as a teacher.

At the time of its last incarnation, that spirit that was Jesus was a sixth density being, fully ready to move quickly through seventh density and into eighth density. It held itself at sixth density because of its desire and willingness to serve. Following the incarnation as the Buddha, that spirit also held itself at sixth density to teach.

There is nothing remarkable about moving from third density through fourth and fifth, to sixth density. Many beings are so evolved. When a sixth density being is willing to remain in sixth density to serve others, when the seventh density doorway to total non-separation from that perfect Light is so close and a being is willing to hold back in love and service, that is remarkable. In your terminology, such beings are thought of as angels. That is the closest definition of "angel" I can offer, a sixth density being that does not move on, of its own free will, but remains for some time to teach.

Buddhism has a term for such a being. A Bodhisattva is one who recognizes the suffering in the universe, and is willing to come back to this incarnation repeatedly, rather than finding its own final liberation through movement to eighth density. It returns to serve, with awareness that as long as one being still suffers, it cannot be totally free. Willingness to return to third density incarnation is one manifestation of the Bodhisattva. Another form is willingness to remain in sixth density, with mental body intact. Such teachers are here but you on earth do not know of them. I feel the deepest gratitude for the gift they offer us all.

Q: When did you first learn of the death of Jesus? At the time, what significance did you attach to his death? When did you learn that his followers continued to meet? Did you ever join them?

A: I was a shepherd but also felt myself to be his disciple. What he taught spoke more directly to my heart than anything I'd ever heard. I tried to follow his teachings and to share them with others. In this way, I became very much a follower of his and, when my life's circumstances allowed it, I left my sheep to be with him. I was not among his center core of disciples. I was a simple being in that lifetime. I had love for this being who was Jesus, and yet I also had an ego and a sense of self and fear.

I was not present at his death, but I knew he was to be crucified. People who knew he had been my teacher directed officials to question me, and I must admit that I denied him. I said I did not revere him, out of fear for myself. The tremendous guilt I felt about that lie led me away, as far as I could get. It was not until several weeks later-having spent most of those weeks alone in prayer and meditation-that I understood what I had done and saw what I needed to do next.

At that point, yes, I joined those who had been his followers and who continued to share his teachings. I found that there were many others who had done as I had done and who also felt guilt. I saw that as with myself, others had learned the true meaning of his message of forgiveness through that guilt and the necessity to forgive oneself.

This was his final gift to me in that lifetime. The pain of his death, my own fear that led me to deny him, and the overwhelming sense of guilt all opened my heart to the true meaning of his message of forgiveness. It is not a measured forgiveness. That is easy. Rather it is unconditional, to forgive the seeming unforgivable, in myself and in all beings. This is the final work of the open heart. With that step of unconditional acceptance, the heart opens in compassion so there is truly nothing left to forgive.