The Light Beyond

Death, near death, or what?

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A man living in the Province of Northumbria returned from the dead to tell what he saw. His story was recorded by Bede in his 731 A.D. book, The Ecclesiastical History of the English People. Illness had driven this man to bed, where he grew worse, finally dying as darkness fell. His wife and family stood prayerful vigil for the rest of the night. Just before dawn, the man suddenly sat up to the amazement of those weeping around his body.

All but his wife ran away in horror.

The man reassured his wife saying, “Do not be afraid for I have truly returned from the grasp of death”. Then he explained what he had seen while he was dead. He had walked down a long dark causeway alongside a man dressed in a luminous robe who guided his journey and explained the sights he saw.

To the left were unquenchable flames. To the right a maelstrom of freezing sleet and hail. Souls jumped from one side to the other in futile attempts to escape this alternate punishment of fire and ice.

His guide, who seemed to read his thoughts, told him this was not Hell as he imagined

it to be, but only a holding area for sinful souls that may be saved still - upon Judgement Day,

by the supplications of good souls that had loved them during their earthly life.

They moved on into increasing darkness.

The guide disappeared.

Ahead, huge flickering flames leaped up, then fell back, into a seemingly bottomless pit. The upward bursts of flame carried thousands of lost souls that flew like sparks in a bonfire. An indescribable stench welled up from the pit. “Behind me I could hear pitiful screams and hideous laughter”. Five human souls were being dragged down into the flames by demons who

mocked them with gleeful obscene insults. “When the demons returned from the pit, they surrounded me, threatening to tear my flesh with the red-hot tongs they brandished”.

“My guide reappeared. The demons fled”.

“He brought me forward to a place of beautiful meadows, fragrant flowers, clear light, and innumerable parties of happy, white-robed people. Surly, this was Heaven”. “No, said the guide, this is not the Kingdom of Heaven as you imagine”.

Moving further, the amazing light grew even brighter. A scent of surpassing purity filled the air. Sweet singing seemed to come from everywhere. The wonderful place I had seen just before, now seemed trifling. “I was hoping we might enter this even more wonderful place”.

The guide suddenly returned. He said, “do you know what you have seen”?

“The valley of fire and ice is where sinners who may still be saved are held until Judgment Day. The fiery pit is the mouth of Hell. Whosoever falls into the fiery pit will burn without hope for redemption, throughout eternity. The place of the white-robed people is for those who have not sinned but are not so perfect as to merit immediate entry into Heaven. The place of sweet

singing, sweet fragrance, and glorious light, is the entrance to the Kingdom of Heaven. Those who are perfect in word, deed, and thought, enter the Kingdom of Heaven as soon as their souls leave their body”.

Then the guide told him he must return to the world below, because his time was not yet.

As suddenly as he died, he was alive among men once more.

He gave away all he owned, entered a monastery, and spent the rest of his earthly life

in prayer. He told his story only to those he was convinced would take his words to heart and grow in holiness. Many did, and many more did so after reading his tale as recorded by Bede.

This may be the earliest account of what are now called, Near Death Experiences.,

Probably it’s not. I think such experiences have always been around, in every culture and time. Moreover, Near Death Experiences, isn’t nearly an inclusive enough term. More and more

of these NDE’s have been experienced by people who were certifiably dead. They had ADE’S, After Death Experiences. Many died in hospital, hooked to machines that precisely measure everything from last heartbeat to flatline, including electrical brain activity, or lack thereof.

These people were dead beyond any doubt.

But then, sometimes hours later, they returned to life.

The stories they tell upon their return are much the same.

In many versions they travel down a long dark tunnel toward a light in the distance.

The man in Bede’s recounting traveled down a causeway accompanied by a guide. A guide,

who explains the meaning of the mysteries encountered is a fixed part of all these experiences. So too, is the revelation of different realms of Heaven and Hell. The impression left is that these are only glimpses of a reality too overwhelming for full disclosure.

No one wants to return to their former life, though they are told they must. There is

an implication of some mission they have yet to fulfill in their life on earth.

All say their visit outside this world was more vividly real than anything ever experienced in this world. When their souls return to their earthly bodies, they are changed. Some part of the glory of Heaven now infuses their every act and thought.

The Christian faithful are encouraged by these stories. Secular skeptics scoff. Thoughtful people, whither of faith or no faith, don’t know what to make of this certifiable mystery of clinical death followed by a return to life. There are many theories, none convincing.

I have no trouble accepting NDE and ADE accounts as being true as told.

In the late 1980’s I experienced something similar.

I had gone to pick up my wife Joyce who was visiting her sister Evelyn. In those days

I often worked late into the night. This night was an exception. I was tired, not physically, but mentally. Managing business, and staff, while also doing much of the productive work was

draining a lot of energy. That not a complaint. Many folks do the same. I say it only because fatigue may have had something to do with what happened next.

I pulled out a chair to set with Joyce and Evelyn at the dining room table. Before I could set down, I suddenly felt queasy, something was wrong. I said, “I think I’ll lie down on the couch for a while”. That’s the last thing I remember.

Joyce and Evelyn said I fell back against the wall and slid to the ground, unconscious.

Evelyn called 911 for emergency medical service. I don’t know how long it took for

the EMS to get to the house, because I was flying feet-first down a long dark tunnel. I could see a light in the distance. I remember wondering why feet-first. Wouldn’t head-first be more natural? I had no sense of how long I was in flight down this tunnel.

As suddenly as I left, I was back.

An earnest young man from the EMS squad was asking for my Social Security number,

my address, and a bunch of other number questions. He was trying to determine my state

of awareness. In my case, it was the wrong sort of questioning. I have a life-long problem with remembering numbers. It’s not quite true dyscalculia, but something like that. Fortunately, Joyce was there to explain. She suggested he ask historical questions about the Ming dynasty

or the Pope at Avignon or anything of that sort.

It wasn’t necessary though. By now I was fully alert.

They took me to hospital anyway, where I was medically examined with many mysterious devices. The Medics found nothing wrong. I was in perfect health, functioning perfectly. Evelyn drove Joyce and I back to her house. I felt really good, briming with vitality, better than I had ever felt before – and I was really hungry. Evelyn made a batch of pancakes. I ate them all.

For nearly a month after this experience, life was brighter, happier, more interesting.

My senses seem to be super-charged. Everything was good. Everything was beautiful. I hoped

it would last forever. Sadly, it didn’t. It faded a little each day, and then it was gone.

Even so it was wonderful.

I was a child the last time I can remember feeling like that.

There’s no name I can put to it. It wasn’t an ADE or a NDE. I didn’t die. I didn’t even nearly die - though I did fly down a long dark tunnel toward a light - and I retuned more alive than ever before.

I wonder if souls in Heaven become like children reborn.

I think so.

By K. L. Shipley

Website: https://www.eclecticessays.com