top of page

Chapter 8. A Holy Ghost gift: Wisdom. I, PETRUS ROMANUS. A documented fiction.

The offices of the conspirators against Petrus Romanus, located in top-secret locations, were leveled in the fury of the heavens last month.

Why should they resurrect Him? cry prelates and gurus, reluctant to recognize the presence of Shiva in a foreigner.

The resurrection is an experience that, it is worth mentioning, is not unique; there are hundreds of compilations of mediums and people who go out and come back through a tunnel or a light (as was my case) to what they recognize as the afterlife.

The Argentine visionary Parravicini announced several of the changes that I have debated throughout my travels: a world without borders, with universal citizenship, with married Catholic priests and nuns with children, with politicians at the service of their communities, elected among students brightest and most honest of the university faculties.

The change

Around 2016, after recounting my mystical experiences in India, a friend recommended a book about a woman who conversed with God.

Drawing by Parravicini

As I read it in the seclusion–as it has been for most of my life, of a room among books and writings, I discovered hints of my own experience:

Priest of the order of Melchizedek (teacher) who comes to reconcile the inconsistencies between the vitality of life (Dionisios) and faith in the absolute good (traditionally-oriented patriarchal God).

When she asks where she is, God tells her that she is in a bedroom in South America.

"What does he do?"

"Nothing".

“To do nothing at all is the most difficult thing in the world, the most difficult and the most intellectual,” prescribes Óscar Wilde about artists.

The accusation of doing nothing to devote one's life to reading is implausible in a post-industrialized nation, but a reality in "developing" nations, where leisure is a source of social hatred.

"We don't know," said a neighbor, "what he’s doing in his studio locked up for six days."

Colombia in 2022 does not stop being for the rest of the world, a nation on the edge of civilization, of jungles and civil wars with drug traffickers involved.

Globalization has allowed him representation in the world, but his appearance on the international scene is no stranger than the arrival of an embassy from the Yellow Emperor, through his enchanted mirrors, to the Star Wars universe.

Colombia is, in Swift’s language, a nation of seers that deny what they see for fear Europeans call them aborigen.

With Faculties of Psychology closed!

And all because the illustrious sycophants of the previous president came up with the idea of ​​proclaiming that engineers are better and more necessary than psychologists.

In other words, the cause of so much corruption and slaughter among Colombians is not the frivolity of the news with which they frighten us every day, but the excess of psychologists, analysts of the soul specialized in controlling our emotions.

A nation like Colombia is certainly seen as second-rate in terms of mental health.

In peripheral nations it is important, say the analysts of the great powers, to control journalists, playwrights and any artist who leads the reader to the spiritual plane...

That of the authentic individual, capable of saying no to the concept of the majority; Kant's enlightened citizen.

Accuser of injustice, without fear; skillful in unmasking the liar with arguments;

Able to protect the community from him and protect himself from the evils that afflict so many nations, those who sacrifice their compassion for selfish concern coordinates:

A) Make money even if dishonestly,

And:

B) Gain power by deceiving others.

The presence of God in the destiny of the world has always been recognized by the powerful. This secret comes to light again, and as a result of the events narrated here.

His counselors harshly remind them, dusting off warnings from prophets that were once terrible, that the Universe changes through the ascendancy of the righteous, the saints and martyrs, so that truth, justice and love may be respected by men.

The time of fear, hypocrisy and intrigue dissolves, dear readers.

Nothing and no one will stop the weak from raising their voices against the injustice of the powerful.

The conspirators already rock their hair, regretting not having heard the warnings from heaven earlier.

As at the end of every war, their salvation depends on how quickly they recognize the victor.

The right thing is to abandon, today, their attacks and censorship; let the media tackle it, let it shine before philosophers, celebrities and movie stars.

The conspirators of good intentions will repent, becoming like Paul of Tarsus, in the face of the overwhelming reception of the era of sincerity and understanding.

Of learned ignorance

When the creek becomes broken, the ground shakes under our feet: strong currents indicate the proximity of the river of life's responsibilities.

Only the elite of the population (45%) continued their studies from that moment on. University students study for several years, until the day they graduate.

The path of knowledge then enters a virgin forest, before which a large number of professionals abandon their search for the truth. So, they get married and prosper on firm ground.

The most daring (24%) continue their march now with greater caution.

At some point the path sinks into the porous sand of the desert, where they discover a sentence in golden letters carved on a marble plaque:

SUM EST NIHIL

VERITAS NON EST

Which translates:

I’M NOTHING

TRUTH DOESN’T EXIST

In consideration of their efforts, those scholars receive diplomas that certify them as doctors (8%); his main merit is, it is said, to renounce his religious beliefs to replace them with those of the exact sciences, anthropology, biblical exegesis and science.

It was the text of a Bach cantata, number 147, which I not only heard, but sang -I was learning German at the time-, which reconciled me with Jesus, the friend whom I already considered, although close and admired, a chapter of my past.

Years of instruction with teachers who made fun of the Catholic religion and who proclaimed the excellence of atheistic existentialism, had really taken away from rituals. I had not lost my beliefs, I had simply hidden them in the recesses of my mind, like a childish secret that can no longer be confessed.

And it was in Bach that I found the friend I longed for, the sensitive and inspired soul who from his lonely life told me: "Do not be afraid to love Jesus! He is your greatest good, even if your acquaintances make fun of you and hurt your heart "

Jesus bleibet meine Freude

Meines Herzens Trost und Saft,

Jesus wehret allem Leide,

Er ist meines Lebens Kraft,

Meiner Augen Lust und Sonne,

Meiner Seele Schatz und Wonne;

Darum lass ich Jesum nicht

Aus dem Herzen und Gesicht.

That translates:

Jesus is still my joy

The consolation and the sap of my heart

Jesus heals all my sufferings

He is the strength of my life

My eyes, my strength, my sun

Treasure and delight of my soul;

That's why I’ll never leave Jesus

Even if they hurt my heart

Today I read that the last verse literally translates "From my heart and my face", but in my memory I clearly preserve the phrase: "Even if they hurt my heart".

I learned that beauty, or the Holy Spirit, has the quality of embellishing the memory of poets over time.

My search for the truth continued along paths that, located beyond the limits of the universities, in spaces that were viewed by them with patient condescension: theater, cinema and poetry, as well as fantasy, horror and fantasy literature. Science fiction.

I finished studies in social communication, but the doors of the media in the capital were closing one by one due to my few recommendations.

My consecration to study was such in those years that I did not have time to consolidate friendships.

I did a diploma in film script at the Colegio Mayor de Nuestra Señora del Rosario.

The cost of the semester was high, but they promised us with photos and press releases that, at the end of the course, Caracol TV would make our movie scripts.

At the end of the first semester we knew that everything had been part of one of the many deceptive media advertising campaigns.

My final script, Los Tabárez, rests in your archives, a black comedy about a family that owns a funeral home.

Eventually I came to philosophy, with the firm intention of understanding God from reason, but the crisis of the 1990s led me to study in the USA, where, for various reasons, I studied history, arts and cinema until 1998.

My greatest strength was my stillness, the certainty of the eternity of my Being.

Divine Protection

As you read in Morris West's novel THE CLOWNS OF GOD, if God sends a prophet the first organization to attack him will be the Vatican.

Their leaders resent not having received the powers of heaven, visible and invisible.

It’s not a power at will, as most people may expect. It is about solidarity, which I better translate as protection.

And it is the same power that Renaissance men recognized as Fortune. For those who admire Leonardo, I’d say, like him, that I have been favored by the Goddess of Fortune.

Some critics fear I overstep the limits of Jesus, who established a line between the servants of God and the Devil.

But they forget that Jesus died and triumphed over demons. Since Christ does not send them to another reality (demons, unlike us, have the advantage of being indifferent to death), he tames them.

Like Caliban, the demon in the service of Prospero in THE TEMPEST, all the demons serve Jesus when he so requires.

Since Lord Jesus bestowed all his blessings on me in Chennai, all his powers protect his protégé.

For it is proper to the Savior and to God himself to protect those who give testimony of him.

Just as a father distinguishes her children by her goodness or badness, while his mother loves them equally, so the Creator applies both precepts: crime and punishment, destruction and construction, life and immortality.

Second mystical experience: The Virgin of Fatima

I continued studying in cafes, or on the benches of its parks and churches, immersed in reading, which is also a form of meditation, amending my behavior and rethinking my day.

That's how I came to Porto, where I studied theology while teaching film classes. I was only a few hours from Fatima, and I told my ex-wife, then an atheist, that I would go on my knees to do the one kilometer walk behind the altar.

Being a Colombian, I could not, in my opinion, stop doing that miraculous penance for my country, then plagued by massacres almost daily.

That journey turned out to be more painful than I had estimated: I did not wear foam for my knees, but shorts, so the skin peeled; then, as with any scratch, it was restored.

The sacrifice, strangely enough, converted my French and Cartesian ex-wife to Catholicism.

She herself was surprised by the way it happened: almost without realizing it.

A few days later I had a mystical experience with the Virgin Mary.

I heard her sobbing, at some distance. As I approached her I saw her eyelines bruised by the excess of tears.

I asked in distress:

"What I can do?"

She asked me to read the 15th chapter of the Acts of the Apostles.

I woke up jubilant; It was early morning and I started working in my studio apartment on the banks of the Douro River.

I read chapter 15. Saint Paul and the wise men of Israel did not establish a church based on dogmas and ceremonies, but on two rules of behavior: not to wish harm on others and not to frequent brothels.

This experience turned the novel he was writing at the time, NEW MANHATTAN SOIREÉS (1999), into a spiritual quest, that of an emigrant on the verge of leaving the United States.

His longing for knowledge would take him from nation to nation, until reaching his half-hour interview with God in 2011.

A series of miracles -which I detail in my novel by Marco Saint-André in Porto-, occurred from the penance, the greatest of them being that of taking us to live and work in England for almost 5 years.

Little did I know that my novel NEW AFTERNOONS IN MANHATTAN was already arousing the ire of the Vatican for my denunciations of pedophiles.

As a precautionary consequence, it was to the credit others to uncover these scandals, with subsequent financial claims for emotional harm.

In 2012 I went to St. Vincent's Abbey, near Pittsburgh, to recount my mystical experiences as a prophet. I wanted to become a monk. I was dismissed with the greatest cordiality, but, after some years of debate, they decided to complain about my visions.

It is there, in the planning of a double revenge, where the protection of the universe occurs.

All conspiracies against a just man fail by accidents which, in view of their accumulation, seem abnormal.

A ruler dies before signing a sentence against the righteous, an operations center is devastated by a hurricane, a terrorist attack saves him from death, etc.

The protection of chance alters the postulates of the mathematics of chaos, incapable of factoring the divine.

Agents of unspeakable powers who attack me, create problems in their heavenly world, that of their families.

Why? they wonder.

Our paradise on earth is the family, that circle of friends and pets that we love and love us. Such a paradise, however, can make us selfish and aggressive.

Our paradise has to expand to all families, to the earth itself, I say.

Attachment to family is the greatest of all, the Buddhists explain.

Atheism as a secular creed

I devoted myself to studying the mystical works of Swedenborg and Böhme, and wrote my essay The Crisis of Atheism, which was published in England by The Philosopher; its good reception then led me to define God for a British Encyclopaedia on Ethics.

I was about to abandon the path of knowledge, but the biblical precepts that I had already internalized strengthened me in my search, and so I rejected, as I had done before in the USA, the temptation of a stable future.

I returned to Colombia.

In Bucaramanga I also battled against conspiracies and lies. I was in charge of Ethics, a subject that determined the philosophical orientation of the faculty.

I had to face conspiracies placing cunning over truth, in the widespread belief that there is no truth -not even ethical certainty.

They staged intrigues to destroy me, sacrificing the purpose of knowledge for ambition.

But the Lord kept protecting me in secret. My shield was to practice and redouble Jesus’ teachings:

Love your enemies more than yourself, that they have, if they want to improve their lives, reasons to love you

My love of learning led me to neglect domestic life, and my French relatives turned their affection into animosity by pointing out that I did not amass a fortune.

It was then that the Lord sent me to work in India.

The adventures I lived in France, Holland and Spain for 3 months, hoping to get my work visa to travel to India, I will recount in another book.

India's bureaucrats procrastinated my application indefinitely, until I turned to Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal in Paris.

His help was immediate; I got my visa stamped just on my birthday, on November 10, 2010.

Such was his surprise that the Indian administrator in Madras asked me to send him my scanned documents to ensure their authenticity.

Arrival in India, 2011

Until recently, the city of Chennai was called Madras, and it was the port where, centuries ago, the apostle Saint Thomas arrived to preach the Gospel of Christ. His work converted thousands of Hindus, which aroused the jealousy of local priests.

It was a Brahmin, according to the locals, who pierced Santo Tomás with a spear.

In the place where the apostle expired, on the top of a hill, there is a beautiful chapel, and in the center of the city the third cathedral in the world with the remains of one of the apostles of Christ; the other two are the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, which I also visited in 1998, and that of San Pedro in Rome, which I hope to visit on my ever postponed pilgrimage to Holy Land.

In India, as in medieval Spain, all the world's religions coexist in peace, as I was able to verify by attending marriages of other faiths.

The angels of the Lord prepared my abode in a desert of concrete: a small apartment that was once an office, at the end of the top floor of an uninhabited tower, on a university campus that was not yet fully operational.

At dawn and dusk I listened to the soft Muslim litanies, and every morning I saw the sky in all its splendor from my window.

Thanking the Lord, I used to watch the tower under repair of a Hindu temple dedicated to Lord Murugan.

Days after feeling the love of Christ in my chest, I pondered about knowledge and, faithful to an ancient philosophical tradition, concluded that I could never acquire knowledge in this life.

I yearned, from my voluntary seclusion, for the day I could see the Kingdom that Jesus promised us.

"Then", I said to the Lord, "I will know all the secrets of Being: Why do we come? Where are we going? What are all our experiences written?"

The gift of the Holy Ghost: Wisdom

On the night of May 15, 2011, while I was walking in my room in the middle of the night, my mind was struck by a ray of light or wisdom.

The forbidden doors of knowledge opened and I had a perfect glimpse of the structure of the universe, the origin and reason of evil and the supremacy of good.

The impression was not only intellectual, but emotional.

I felt waves of feelings that contrasted with each other: an exalted happiness followed by terrible anguish.

The image of the wave was revealed to me as the key to all existence.

Those who lead a full life are not those who avoid pain, but those who, suffering everything, promote, through the wavelength they choose, greater happiness.

I understood that each human being or each animal or insect is actually a single Being that denies itself through oblivion in order to be reborn.

The river Styx of the ancient Greeks precedes each existence, but it does not eliminate the memories of a previous life, but rather all the memories and knowledge accumulated by the Being.

In the same way that when we reread a book in adulthood we are happy to experience again the joys that it gave us in adolescence -by virtue of forgetting, so the Being becomes happy again in each existence by forgetting himself.

Forgetting is, paradoxically, necessary to remain young, to return to childhood.

I contemplated that the same essence of God is shared by all creatures; we are all the same Being, including God and Satan, diversified in an infinite number of representations according to each’s wisdom: from God, knowledge itself, the compendium of all creatures, the creator of men and destinies, the alpha and omega , to the infinite ignorance of Lucifer, whom Dante appropriately depicted as cold and indolent in a desolate circle of eternal ice.

God is Lucifer redeemed and Lucifer is God condemned.

This precept, which would have condemned Böhme or Swedenborg to the stake, and which can already be found in William Blake's collection of poems, The Wedding of Heaven and Hell, leads to reconciliation.

God knows Lucifer as well as each of his creatures, and he knows them because as an observer he has lived and lives in them. Coming to the world as Jesus Christ, the Being lived human weakness in his flesh, and compassionately assumed all sins for the redemption of the entire creation.

We, who thought we were capable of creating without the knowledge of God, live in a time limited to our experiences.

As the Upanishads already announced, the understanding of reality lies in apprehending what Is and is not, what exists and does not exist, what knows and does not know.

I could transcribe that dazzling revelation into several volumes. Here I have probably traced what I understood that night: several of his ideas culminate in the book GOD’S DEFINITION (2022).

I thanked the Lord for the knowledge given, not knowing that in the following days I would be tempted by the selfishness, arrogance and vanity of the world.

bottom of page