My dear, to go back to the Bible. No one was more hateful than Paul. Paul took all of the People of The Way…they were called, the early Christians were called, the People of The Way. The word Christianity wasn’t in existence, just the People of The Way. This is the way of God’s salvation. And when he found them, he shackled them, brought them into Jerusalem. They were tortured, tormented even unto death, yet he was the perfect instrument that could be used. That same zealousness for the law and its observance externally is the same power he wanted for those of The Way. And no one was greater than Paul. This one who has not remembered his birth and all the others (because all the others must have happened), who knows, in the previous state he might have been just like Paul in the Bible. Today, as he tells me in his letters, he can’t conceive of hurting anyone. He’s always in this little section of time—only forty years so far; he’s only forty—can’t conceive of it. But “Because I can’t conceive of it today, it could be because I was not only conceiving it but executing it, and therefore learned my lesson.” So I’m not going to say to anyone, because this one is violent he cannot be the chosen instrument to become the embodiment of love, certainly. I can only say from his letters to me that he came to that conclusion concerning who he is. Now he’s not doing this work, he’s not teaching it, not openly, but who knows, he could make a radical change tomorrow. One vision would fire him beyond measure if he could bring back the memory of one of the things that have already happened to him; and if it’s God’s plan within him, because God has planned it in that manner that he will, it will be a firing power. I only know that you are all awakening…I can tell you that much. Male and female, you’re all awakening. No one would come were he not called by the Father within him. No one, no one could come. Doing the work that I am doing I’m only doing it for one purpose: To tell you scripture must be fulfilled in you. And so you come and give your time night after night, give your money, when you could stay at home and find free entertainment on TV. But you don’t, you come here. It’s because you are drawn by the Father in me who knows who he’s drawing. Why would you tell me night after night that you met me in vision? You don’t usually meet people in vision. People who have been dead for years—the mother longs to contact the son who is dying and years go by and there is no contact. Here’s that intense longing. And here, I am not your physical brother or your physical father or physical mother, I am your spiritual brother awakened from the dream of life. But because you are on the verge of it, you meet me in your vision, and everyone, night after night, you meet me in vision. Who is the one looking at the tree, at my tree? I was the one admiring it because I know the tree. For the tree grows and year after year it’s bigger and more majestic and more beautiful. And so, you admire the trees in the garden of God. That’s what Blake meant when he said what I quoted a week ago: “Every generated body in its inward form is a garden of delight and a building of magnificence”…every generated body. He speaks now of your real inner being in its inward form, that’s the one, and it’s really a garden of delight. Well, his tree has been growing for three or four years. But it can’t grow unless it first erupts, and the eruption is the birth from above. So when you go home, you read the 9th of Acts and the 8th of Mark. And may I tell you, the King James Version has it, “I see men as trees, walking” . That’s the true and correct translation. The Revised Standard Version has it, “I see men, but they look like trees walking.” That is not the correct translation of the Greek phrase: “As trees, walking” is exactly what you see. I first told that story in San Francisco many, many years ago. A lady said to me, “Neville, that seems insane.” It may seem insane to you, but I tell you that’s exactly what I see. When I move into other spheres, it’s like a beautiful animated garden. There are men, trees walking. They’re not stationary and everything is [...]. You use your own tree and your own shelter for your own beasts of the field and your own moment of rest for the birds of the air, for you’re the whole vast scene. And may I tell you, you don’t interfere with the other trees. If a tree stretched beyond the wildest dream of the world and as wide as the city, it would not interfere with anyone else who also has grown the tree. I’m speaking of an entirely different dimension, an entirely different world. There is no colliding…that’s the beauty of this place. So when you are born here, you die into the glory of the sunrise. Good night.175 ¶43