Past Lives Ain’t What They Used To Be
Written on August 6, 2008 by Tom Stine
I love the subject of past lives or reincarnation. I went to a “psychic” once who told me that I was one of Napoleon’s generals. I guess that explains why I love speaking French, eat French food and I’m 5 ft 6 in tall (can’t be taller than the Emperor!).
Yet even though I love the subject of past lives, I have to say that I don’t have much investment in the concept. I don’t find the subject particularly important to the spiritual journey. Moreover, I can’t even really say that I “believe” in them. Let me explain further.
Past Lives and Memories
The entire subject of past lives hinges upon one thing: memories. Many people remember the events of a life that, in the memory, occurred at some point in the past, sometimes even in a past unknown to modern history (like Atlantis). There have been some excellent books written on the subject, with some seemingly intriguing bits of evidence to indicate that indeed some people really can remember a past life.
But ask the following questions, especially if you can remember a past life: Was it your past life? Are you certain? Is there any way that you can ever know? Isn’t it just a memory, a thought, passing through your awareness? I find it equally compelling to explain a past life memory in this way:
Since consciousness is One, since that is the direct experience of someone who realizes the truth of their being, then that consciousness that is aware seemingly in them is also the same consciousness that is aware seemingly in everyone else and at every moment in time. The consciousness that is what I am is the consciousness that you are, that Jesus was, that Attila the Hun was, that Hammurabi was, that Louis XIV was. All the same. Remember, this Oneness of consciousness is the realization of awakening or enlightenment: everywhere you turn, same, same, same.
So, a past life memory would be simply the consciousness that seems to be Tom accessing the consciousness that seems to have been Genghis Khan (and no, I don’t have a memory like that, but it makes for a fun illustration!). It isn’t Tom’s memory. It’s just consciousness being One and recognizing aspects of form that used to be called Genghis. Get it? In a certain sense we could say that every past life is my past life. And also we could say none are.
Can Past Lives Help Us Realize the Truth?
It makes the whole subject of past life’s quite nebulous and vague and not all that useful to our journey. Sure they are fun, but what to do with it? Will it be of any real use to realizing the truth? Rather, they can become a source of spiritual pride (I was hanging out with Jesus!) and in fact be an barrier to learning the truth of who we are. We can get obsessed with who we might have been.
And if this is a possibility for past life memories, I think you can see why they won’t help us to understand what happens after the death of the body (as discussed in my last post). There may be a host of memories, whether they are mine or not, but do they really tell me what is going to happen when the body called Tom dies? No. At the absolute best, they could tell me about the death of the body of Attila or Genghis or Jesus. But Tom? No. So, you see why past lives don’t really do any good telling us what to expect after death.
Let me end on one of my favorite jokes about the afterlife to wrap-up these last few posts of death and reincarnation (if you are a bit too politically correct, you may want to pass-up this one):
A man dies and goes to Heaven where he is greeted by St. Peter. They begin a tour of the place, which turns out to be a gigantic building. As they walk, they come to many doors. At one door, St. Peter opens it, revealing a huge room filled with every food you could imagine and half naked women parading around. “Muslim Paradise” says St. Peter. At another door, the man is shown a large cathedral with many people on their knees praying. “Catholic saints,” says St. Peter. And on they walk, with St. Peter showing him room after room. After a bit, as they approach another door, St. Peter turns to the man and says, “Shhh…. Don’t say anything as we pass the next door.” After they pass, and have gone some distance, the man asks St. Peter why they had to be quiet. The response: “Oh, that was the Baptists. They think they’re the only ones here.”
And now you know what church my mother dragged me to when I was younger. Poor woman, she finally gave-up after 3 years of my annoying teenage protests. Ah, the Baptist Church and I were not meant to be, I’m afraid.
