The O Manuscript author Lars Muhl experienced a devastating illness that led him to a spiritual search on Mount Athos in Greece and became connected with the seer Calle de Montségur. In this article the author tells his extraordinary story and how his struggles taught him that grief can turn into hope and spiritual knowledge.
Since taking the first step on to my spiritual path, I have learned that life is determined by conscious and unconscious choices. As humans, we have the ability to develop and unfold the spiritual potential that lies dormant within us by taking control of these inner choices.
Throughout the trials of life, humans are given the chance to improve themselves through the choices they make during hardships. Without these challenges and adversity, man will stagnate. I realised this after many years of searching and studying spiritual traditions, when I was struck down, from one day to the next by an illness that no one was able to diagnose. Specifically, this meant that for three years I was bedridden for longer and longer periods of time.
While I was ill on the island of Samsø, I immersed myself as deeply as possible in the Greek and Russian Orthodox traditions. This involved a sustained practice of the Prayer of the Heart: ‘Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me’ combined with a consciously generated depth of breathing. At one point, I was so desperate in my despair of not being able to rise from my sickbed that I played with the idea of becoming a monk at Mount Athos in Greece, where for the last thousand years monks have led a monastic life whose primary purpose is to raise human consciousness through sustained Heart Prayer for the world.
During this period I became connected with the seer Calle de Montségur, who miraculously brought me back to life, as it is described in my book The O Manuscript. But this breakthrough was also the subject of a choice.
During my time in my sickbed, I struggled not only with an undiagnosable disease, but also with myself and with God. I cannot tell how many times I invoked God, hoping to get answers of my suffering; I earnestly tried to reach agreements with God, in which I solemnly promised to be the best man on Earth if only I could get relief from my troubles. But no matter how much I promised and cried, no answer came to my prayers.
Nothing happened until the day that I was given a completely new and unexpected attitude from above. I remember the feeling of a voice inside me saying: ‘If you have to lie here anyway, feeling more pain than it is possible to put into words, then you might as well take on the pain of all the people, all the suffering of the world’. And exactly at that moment, I understood that it wasn’t just one option among many, but an ultimatum, and that if I didn’t accept the offer I wouldn’t get any more opportunities. Also, I was inexplicably aware that my yes was not only a word or a sound, but a change in attitude that demanded my whole being and that had to be carried by a completely true and devoted belief and consciousness. After my yes, the pain left me, instantly. The seemingly, senseless suffering suddenly made sense. The following week, I got in touch with the seer Calle de Montségur. It felt like an option that was exclusively determined by my change in attitude. Then, things really got moving.
It was a spring day in 1998, immediately after The Seer had got me out of the bed I had more or less been tied to for three years. I was in Copenhagen to attend a board meeting of the composer and songwriter association DJBFA. That morning, I woke up with a longing that I can only explain as being a longing for God. So I decided to attend the morning Mass in the Catholic Sacred Heart of Jesus Church (Jesu Hjerte Kirke), only a few minutes’ walk from the hotel.
When I entered the church, I saw a Vietnamese woman taking a wafer from the dish laid out for those wishing to participate in the sacrament. She placed it in the bowl for the priest to see how many participants needed service. I walked past it and sat in the back row, sliding into a meditative state.
A quarter of an hour later, the priest entered and began the service. There were about 30 to 40 of us that morning, and I remember sitting there feeling annoyed about the sound of the priest’s chanting voice, possibly because the loudspeakers sounded too sharp and importunate.
For how long this was going on I do not know, but suddenly I felt a heavy hand, lying on my right shoulder. For a split second, I sat there, as if I was paralyzed. It is impossible to explain with words, but there was no doubt that this was the most important moment of my life. It was like a blazing fire, or lightning that pierced my heart, and in a moment it set me outside time and space. When I was finally able to turn, I found only an empty church behind me. Still, I was surrounded by an indescribable immediate presence. It was Him and I had no doubt:
And then they came. Tears. Like blood dripping from an exposed, torn heart. As a flood, pulverizing the last dike of stubborn limitation of a whole life. I sobbed loudly, though, leaning forward with my face hidden in my hands, to try and stop myself from interrupting the service.
The next thing I remember is that I was in a line of people about to receive the sacrament, although I had not taken a wafer from the dish and put it in the bowl of the chosen. In the same instant I made eye contact with the priest who, almost as if in slow motion, took a wafer, lifted it up, while he divided it into two to show me that now there was also one for me.
I left the church in a glorified, translated state with a feeling of being cleansed at a deeper level. For a long time I felt the after-effects of Yeshua’s hand on my right shoulder. With time, I understood that he put a burden on me, an obligation to act upon the principles of the Holy Spirit, and through performing the sacrament that morning, I had agreed and vowed to take the burden and obligation. A few years later, another event occurred, which is in some way connected to my meeting with Yeshua.
It was July 22, an afternoon in the summer of 2002, while I was in the process of writing my Book The Magdalene. Outside, the weather was mild and nice and I decided to take a break from writing and went for a walk. I found myself on Ryesgade outside the Catholic Church at St. Canute’s Square, in Aarhus. It was open and I was encouraged to go inside. The chairs in the church were arranged in a circle, and there an elderly couple and a young woman sat to one side, as the evening Mass was soon to be held. I decided to join them and sat myself in the opposite side of the circle, as the only person.
The priest came in, turned directly towards me proclaiming: ‘Today it is Mary Magdalene’s day’, and he turned towards the other participants and continued the service, unnoticed.
For me this event was a confirmation that my studies on Mary Magdalene, which had been going on since 1988, had reached a conclusion for the present. I went home and completed the manuscript, which I didn’t know head or tail of at the time.
Seen in a wider perspective, the two events relate to what had my full attention since my return to life in 1998: Jesus and Mary Magdalene, also called Yeshua the Nazarene (Nazari = The Initiated) and Mariam Magdalene (Magdal = Exalted). These two archetypes both, and especially together, symbolize the first new man and the first new woman. This is something we cannot find in Christianity, which over a period of 1700 years has systematically attempted to transform Yeshua’s love message into a purely intellectual mental project. This is solely because no one from the theological party wanted to recognize Yeshua’s partner, Maria Magdalene’s right and equal place at his side, and refused to recognize Yeshua’s right origin and true purpose. The result is a complete alienation from a Christian tradition, called our own – which most cultural-Christians choose to ignore out of pure fear – along with a theological faculty which is purely practical, it has trained a large number of non-believers, atheist priests, to serve the ever-shrinking congregation. And there precisely is the problem of time and humanity: it has cut itself off from its spiritual superstructure.
All this and much more I have tried to compensate for in my books The O Manuscript and The Law of Light.
Lars Muhl is the author of The O Manuscript and The Law of Light and he is developing YESHUA – Lost in Translation – a documentary film based on his book The Law of Light, in collaboration with filmmaker Ole B. Frøshaug. You can support their campaign here and be part of a community helping to distribute an alternative story about Jesus (or Yeshua). Visit his website.