The Book Of Anglion: Condensed Version
Here's the beginning - just the first 7 paragraphs - of a highly condensed version of the 1500+ page Book Of Anglion....
I will be posting 10 + installments of this in 7 paragraph-sized sections.
Feel free to comment.
We finally got J. Dean Fagerstrom into the online world over the summer - early fall - with a computer and lots of help from a lot of folks from around the world. He had never touched a computer in his life. All of his works - 3 + books and hundreds of poems - were all done manually by typewriter.
If anyone would like to reach him directly you can contact him via email at the following address:
deananglion@rcn.com (J. Dean Fagerstrom)
Dean is fully aware of this thread and my involvement in assisting this natural process of sharing this magnificent revelation.
Peace.
Light!
ONE!!
GO!!
Frederick Smart
The Connectivity Group
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The Book of Anglion
(Condensed Version)
J. Dean Fagerstrom
The nature of this work requires an easy cross-reference system, therefore beginning with the following paragraph a successive numbering system will appear. The traditional page-numbering is also irrelevant, so all references and comparisons of portions of the text will be made solely according to paragraph numbers.
(1) The historical aspects of the author will be incorporated as part of a spiritual progress rather than an autobiographical sketch.
(2) In 1953 I was a student in a mid-western theological seminary. By the time I was in the fifth semester a crisis had developed, one of depression, unrest, anxiety, and all the other symptoms associated with a well-intentioned minister of the gospel. My problems had arisen from a religious environment which was rather intolerant of dissenting views, and this prevailing attitude finally took its toll. In early March of 1953 I decided another approach to spirituality had to be found. I realized I wasn't concerned about a degree or the approval of my peers; I unknowingly had taken a different pathway, and one I hoped would lead to spiritual fulfillment apart from any religious concurrence.
(3) At a certain critical date, Friday, 13 March 1953, I went very late at night to an empty classroom and sat down, allowing my copy of the Word (bible) to open as it would. I began praying out of a sense of desperation at first, barely realizing what my inner drives were all about. I settled down and tried to relax. Gradually it occurred that what I really wanted most was an unmistakable encounter with God. As I looked down at the opened Word I saw a passage from John's Gospel where it is written: "I am the resurrection, and the life". As I read these words their actual letters turned crimson and elevated from the page and stood before me in the atmosphere. At that point He who had uttered these words at the tomb of Lazarus appeared, smiling with out-stretched arms and again repeated the words. I fell forward to the floor and passed from my body and came among angelic beings who were singing and laughing, a beautiful assembly of heavenly human beings. Never had I imagined anything so utterly beautiful, so encompassing, so full of an ineffable joy and wonder ! Hours later, as I recalled, I was walking in a marvelous stupor back to my dormitory, and I have never been the same since.
(4) I thereafter called this the supreme encounter, and all the depression, the sadness and morbidity passed away. Within a short time I left the seminary and institutionalized religion forever. I had been launched upon a spiritual pilgrimage which continues to this day.
(5) After another brief enrollment in a seminary of far more tolerant character I left to return home where I began helping my mother in her nursing home business. One day I was painting one of the small cabins on our property when a most lovely young woman entered the yard and smilingly greeted me. This occurred on 19 June 1954. The beautiful girl asked me what I was doing, and I turned and gestured at the painted side of the building; but then she said: "No, I mean - what are you doing about your real work ?" I was flustered, but something told me intuitively that this was not a college girl on a lovely Saturday afternoon trying to make conversation. Before I could form a proper answer I was asked if I might fetch something cold to drink. I went to the kitchen quickly and brought back two glasses filled with a soft drink. We sipped the drink and talked for a few minutes, and abruptly the lovely girl placed her glass on the heavy board where moments before I'd stood painting. She bade farewell and promised she would meet with me again, then she walked past the rose-trellis of our yard-entrance and vanished in thin air. I ran after her and looked in all directions, aware that there were no parked cars, no obstructions of any kind. I stood in a quandary realizing that this disappearance could not possibly have occurred under the conditions. I went back to the low scaffold and looked at the glass the visitor had held, and it was still filled to the brim. I had casually observed her lift the glass at least four times and drink, and with this realization something again intuitive began sending a tingling vibration down my spine. At that point I really had no firm idea as to what this encounter might mean in later years.
(6) In that same year, 1954, on 19 September, I had gone to bed at around 9:30. It was a balmy night and only a sheet covered my body as I meditated on past events. Abruptly a man's figure appeared at the foot of my bed. He was dressed in a somewhat formal manner as one might dress in the eighteenth-century. I instantly recognized this person since I'd seen drawings and paintings of his likeness many times. He was Emanuel Swedenborg, one of the world's greatest intellects, a scientist, seer, mystic, theologian and one of the foremost thinkers of any age. He smiled and greeted me, with just a few encouraging words about my 'real work' -as the previous visitor had used the phrase-saying one last thing: "I am permitted by the Lord to give you a sign so that you will not believe you are having a vision or dreaming." With this said he smiled and bade farewell and in the next instant the sheet covering my body was hurled to a corner of the room and formed into a ball of fabric. I began praying that somehow I would be found worthy of such an encounter, knowing beyond any doubt that the visitation had truly occurred.
(7) The encounters related were never, during that time period, shared with anyone. Little by little I came into a new realization about what my 'real work' consisted of, but that confirmation did not occur until years later. In the meantime, in 1983, my beautiful wife, Helga, suddenly departed the world. |
