The Emergence of African Avatars and the Secret of Fatima by Tom Dark

 

 

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The Emergence of African Avatars and the Secret of Fatima by Tom Dark

                     Few Americans are aware of the spectacular religious activity that has been thundering, with incalculable exuberance, through the hearts of millions of Africans in our just-passed century. Men and women have been seeing vision after  vision, sign after sign, and wonder after wonder. There are national holidays  commemorating miracles — not from centuries ago by some old saint whose paint  has long since peeled, but within the last few decades, witnessed by thousands  of ordinary citizens still walking among us.  Although few in the U.S. are aware of all this, religious scholars whom I have contacted as independent sources have been recording the activity with intense fascination. Relatively little is known, and scholars are quite eager to  learn more. They may be gathering information that could eventually form a “new”  New Testament. It may well be that we are viewing the beginnings of a new civilization formed around a new Christ, which, like the occasion that started 
our present one 20 centuries ago, remains relatively unknown in the world until some time after the events that then inspire so many millions for centuries to come.  

I am told, in fact, that I am the 8th American to have learned about the subject of this essay, which is about a man named Simeon Toko, who died in 1984.  Simeon Toko appeared before people in an apparitional body and in dream states  while he was physically alive, and continues to do the same among certain  selected people 17 years after his natural death. At least one witness says he,  personally, killed Simeon Toko — quite professionally, as a hired killer — and  saw him alive again a few days later. Others still living at this  writing say  they saw Toko physically slaughtered, and watched him bring himself back to life  before their astonished eyes. There is a very large body of testimony, of which  only a little has yet been recorded or written down by eyewitnesses.  

Much of the media news from Africa in the past 80 years has been presented as political rebellion and tribal warmongering, or as a battle between “good” civilized countries versus “evil” communists over the souls of Africans who are still considered uncivilized and superstitious and too immature,  to be left to themselves… what with all those raw materials and diamonds yet needing dug up.  This is the general bias of newsreporting from Africa as I remember it since my  own childhood. It’s not much different now. We tend to think of the 
African  peoples in a distortion somewhere between a bouquet of jokes about banana  republics and a vague, distant horror of unexplainable war and slaughter.  It is odd that Africa is considered a land of raw natural resources, presumed for centuries to be there largely for the benefit of civilized foreigners, who have had only to educate and “civilize” a species of simple people to work the mines and derricks for them. 

It is very odd, considering that Africa is home to the most ancient of continuous Western civilizations, Ethiopia; for that matter Africa is home to the most ancient human bones yet chipped out of an earthly grave. Scientists are  lately calling Africa the home of the human race.  Back in the late nineteenth century, British Museum curator E.A. Wallis Budge began translating the papyrii and wall-writings of ancient Egyptian temples. In order to come to   some kind of understanding of those writings, Budge found himself compelled to compare the practices described in ancient language with those practiced by “natives,” meaning black African peoples, of his time. He was also aware of the similarities of language between the ancient and current tongues.  As “savage” as they supposedly were, many Africans had in fact preserved practices known to and used successfully by their own ancestors, the ancient Egyptians. It is unarguable, looking at the fantastic ancient artisanry alone, that many pharoahs were black, and so too was a great deal of Egypt’s ancient 
population, if not initially populated by black peoples entirely.  If by our  own accounts African Egypt lasted at least 3,000 years (11,000 according to  Herodotus’ HISTORIES), we must admit that the wisdom and practice preserved in ancient writings was at the very least partly responsible for the second  longest-lived civilization in historical record.  

If that is so, then we can surmise that the Africans who moved deeper into their lands to escape the warlike upstart Greeks and Romans, continued those practices for their own benefit. These “savages” lived generally peaceful, productive, imaginative and joyful lives.  It is certainly also said that this was how the ancient Egyptians lived. History will show that the migrating  central Africans lived the same way, at least until the mercenary and slave 
  raids by Europeans began in the 15th century C.E. If a civilization can be defined by its coded wisdom, not merely by its pottery or technology, then we can surmise that the Egyptian civilization didn’t  die out so much as move away with the Africans who founded settlements elsewhere  on the continent. The successive overrunners of the ancient African 
civilization  — now given the greek name “Egypt,” not Kemet, as the Egyptians themselves  called their land — have to this day failed to match the accomplishments of its  founders. No one as yet knows how to build a massive pyramid set exactly to  coordinates aligned with the sun and stars; engineers  still marvel daily over  their construction. That is only the most famous of many mysteries of ancient  Egyptian architectonics. Certainly no one knows how to make a country thrive for  thousands of years, even through times of 
unimaginable trouble. The story that  the great buildings of Egypt were built by slave labor, Cecil B. DeMille style,  is simply untrue.  It is also untrue that any part of Africa ever was a “dark continent,” to be  “discovered” by Portuguese boatmen — as though it were somehow unattached to  any ancient glories, populated only by semi-humans, and full of natural riches they themselves could not appreciate.  Anyone who might argue that this depiction of these ancient peoples is not  the portrayal that white-skinned European races promoted does not know history. A single example: Americans in the nineteenth century created a law that  permitted an African slave the dubious honor of counting as “three-fifths of a 
man;” in other words, men and women with dark skin were considered less than human in United States law. White slavemasters had obtained at least a little human recognition for their black male slaves, to use them as partial voting blocs in local elections for self-serving reasons. 

In the book that this essay will introduce to the United States for the first time, it is pointed out by documentation that the first slave traders who came to Africa in the fifteenth century C.E. found an advanced society dominated by a  monotheism with a powerful code of ethics. They did not find half-naked people  in grass skirts with bones through their noses. They did not find rows of fat  little stone fertility goddesses and voodoo fetishes. They found an intelligent,  friendly, dignified peoples who had created beautiful avenues and 
pleasant  buildings and well-regulated agricultural fields and fine clothing. They found a  people who practiced the old Mosaic code, essentially (students of Mosaic law  will note how much of it resembles Egyptian codes). They found a people whose  language, linguists have shown, contains scores of words found in biblical  hebrew and later in European languages. They may well have found what really  ever happened to the so-called lost tribes of the kingdom of Israel.  

Except that the subsequent four centuries have proved out the following 
  statement to a deplorable degree, we could otherwise be incredulous at a 
  surmisal of the main difference between the “discoverers” of central Africa and 
  the people they divided and traded like objects and cattle over the ensuing 
  generations: the difference between the civilized dark-skinned peoples and 
their  conquerors is measurable in intensity of greed and a will to murder to 
fulfill  greed’s endlessly wearisome demands. This behavior has not ended in 
modern  times. Slavery still exists in Africa, for instance.  

Even at this writing, centuries now after the first slashes into the belly of 
  the African land and peoples, predominantly white-skinned countries still allow 
  predominantly white-skinned corporations to assist insane warlords in killing 
  each other, helping with helicopters and technology, simply to keep company 
  profits going. So reported Global Pacific News not long ago.  

There is no question that the peoples of Africa, millions and millions of 
  descendants of the ancient Ethiopians and Egyptians among them, have been 
  methodically dehumanized for centuries. No peoples have met with such enormous 
  psychological and material destruction in recorded human history. If they can 
  said to be blamed for allowing any of it, then their fault could only lie in a 
  willingness to trust fellow men who came preaching religious principles. 

The damage that Christian missionaries have done to the psychology of human 
  kindness in Africa over the centuries is untold. Examples would take a litany 
  too long to fit all the walls of any ancient temple. But here are two: 
  missionaries routinely accompanied soldiers who came to steal lands and loot 
for  their home European country. The procedure went as follows: the missionary 
would  stand and read aloud an edict in Latin to whatever villagers had 
gathered. The  edict, completely incomprehensible to the villagers, ordered that 
each of them  must at that moment convert to Christianity or be killed or 
enslaved. After it  was read, the guns and swords went to work. The soldiers 
felt justified in their  murders through the benediction and authority of the 
Roman church. Through  varying interpretations of the works of church fathers, 
the Roman church  developed a system of permissible murder and looting, and it 
was used routinely. 

The missionaries would then go to work on the remaining peoples: the children 
  were taught that their parents’ intelligent, peaceful beliefs were “from the 
  devil,” and that they were to accept poverty “for the good of their souls;” 
  whereas the conquerers were supposedly blessed by God with superior might and 
  wealth, and so must be obeyed. 

Not long ago, Pope John-Paul II issued a public statement apologizing for the 
  behavior of the Roman Church during the Inquisition, centuries ago. Over a 
  period of about four hundred years, Church authorities in Europe humiliated, 
  ostracized, tortured and murdered about a half million fellow Europeans over 
  “matters of faith.” As these atrocities in the name of God mostly occurred 
  centuries ago, the apology seemed a little late in coming.  

However, no apology seems to have yet been offered for the estimated one 
  hundred million Africans who were categorically enslaved, tortured, and 
murdered  into submission for the four hundred years that the Roman Church 
itself assisted  this activity, quite officially, benefitting from it materially 
and politically. 

One would wonder also why there is as yet no apology forthcoming from the 
  Vatican for its role in intent to murder one Simon Kimbangu. This did not 
happen  so long ago that the descendants have long been unaware of the wrong 
done and  the property confiscated, as is mostly the case with the Inquisition.  

There are thousands of Africans still alive who remember Simon Kimbangu very 
  well. Kimbangu’s name is celebrated throughout the great expanses of central 
  Africa, and this fame continues to increase. He stands as far more than a mere 
  national hero. A short history of his life can be found in the Encyclopedia 
  Brittanica. He and his followers are also the subject of more detailed 
scholarly  research. Simon Kimbangu was a prophet. Left to rot and tortures in a 
prison, he  died there in October 1951 after 30 years.  

There are Africans alive at this writing who were brought back from the dead 
  by Simon Kimbangu, and there are people still living who watched him do it. The 
  claim is that Simon Kimbangu healed the sick, made the lame walk, returned 
sight  to the blind and hearing to the deaf, and even brought an infant dead 
three days  back to life. Kimbangu performed these miraculous deeds over a 
period of five  months, from May, 1921, through September 12, 1921. Scholars do 
not dispute that  this man performed these miracles. There is simply too much 
testimony about it.  

On September 10, 1921, Simon Kimbangu gave a speech. He announced that the 
  colonial authorities were about to arrest him and “impose a long period of 
  silence on my body.” He announced that one day a “Great King” of tremendous 
  spiritual, scientific, and political power would arise, and that he himself 
  would return as a representative. Before this event, a certain book would be 
  written that would prepare the people of Kongo (not “Congo”) for this event. 
  This book would resisted, but slowly, it would come to be accepted. 

Two days later, Simon Kimbangu was arrested by colonial authorities — on his 
  forty-second birthday, September 12, 1921 — and curtly sentenced to death. The 
  authorities for the Roman Church had recommended his execution, and so had 
  various other Christian missions. According to noted scholar Dr. Allan 
Anderson,  the Baptist mission alone protested the execution of this man whose 
apparent  crime was to have daily stood in a village for five months and healed, 
consoled,  and revitalized people. The joy and the amazement of the gathering 
crowds had  left the prophet open to supposed charges of sedition by jealous 
missionaries.  Punishment for alleged sedition was death.  

Just as Kimbangu had predicted two days before his arrest, he was instead 
  given an indefinite prison term, a “long silence of his body.” Each morning he 
  was taken from his tiny cell and put bodily into a tank of cold salt water for 
  lengthy periods in an attempt to hasten his death. His prediction that his body 
  would be tortured and humiliated came true.  

He had also predicted that day that Africa would be “thrown into a 

terrible period of unspeakable persecutions.” For the next 40 years, 
  Africans were indeed put through a terrible period of unspeakable religious 
  persecutions. Hundreds of thousands were imprisoned, deported, separated from 
  their families, subject to atrocious tortures, and simply persecuted for new 
  religious beliefs.  

These new religious beliefs, triggered by the few words of an African man who 
  performed miracles among his own people for “only a little while,” sent out 
  great psychological rays of hope to a continent of peoples who had long become 
  accustomed to misery and poverty under centuries of colonial abuse and 
  intentionally oppressive religious instruction. These powerful beliefs are 
still  in development and will reach around the world even in their beginning 
stages.  The appearance of the book this essay introduces marks one of many such 
  beginnings. 

The title of the book this essay will introduce is THE TRUE THIRD 
SECRET OF  FATIMA REVEALED and the RETURN OF CHRIST. The author is Pastor Melo 
Nzeyitu  Josias; additional research by Rocha Nefwani. Both men are native 
Africans, both  highly educated. I edited the book myself, here in America, and 
added a little  general historical knowledge.  

The book was meant to be available on May 13, 2001, commemorating the first 
  of 6 visits of the Lady of Fatima, Portugal, who appeared on that date in 1917. 
  She was visible to the three shepherd children who repeated her words to the 
  world, yet was invisible to the crowds of thousands who were drawn to come see 
  her. The Lady made astonishing predictions. Her two sets of predictions, made 
in  1917 about events of the coming decades, proved true. Among other things, 
she  predicted the 
fall of Russia to communism, the end of the First World 
War,  and the coming of the Second World War.  

There was a Third Secret, however, which the Lady instructed Lucia Dos Santos 
  to reveal only after 1960, after certain events had passed which would have 
made  it more understandable. It was read to Pope John XXIII in February, 1960. 
When  he heard it he fainted dead to the floor. When John XXIII arose, he 
ordered the  Third Secret sealed up in a vault “forever.”  

Are we in the “end of times?” Are we at the hour in which Jesus Christ has 
  already returned and gone? It would seem that appearances of men acclaimed to 
be  God incarnate have increased greatly in the past century.  

Many children born after World War Two abandoned their family’s religions and 
  took up a fascination with Hindu Baba or another, during adolescence — let’s 
  say during their “truth seeker years.” Some still follow their chosen Baba, 
  regarding him as God Himself clothed in flesh and blood and teachings. 

Few seemed to have realized that the various titles of these Eastern god-men, 
  from “Baba” downward, are conventions of Hinduism they correspond to the same 
  kinds of hierarchical titlings of western religious personnel, from “Pope” 
  downward. Both words mean “father.” Perhaps comparing these things would have 
  made the new religious adventure seem less exotic, and therefore, not knowing 
  the traditional lay of things religious, potentially more “spiritual” to youth 
  disillusioned and bored by what continues on beneath Western steeples.  

Officially, any Catholic priest or Monsignor or Bishop or Cardinal is a 
  “representative of God on earth,” each of more exalted degree, the same as 
  attributed to revered gurus whose photographs are surrounded by burning 
incense.  What makes the idea less true for one than the other? The idea of a 
God-ness  more particular to such men, East or West, is most often a projection 
of the  devotee, who has yet to even speculate on the source of his own willing 
  projections. Yet in terms of advantages to be gained of any kind, the question 
  is moot. There seem to be no fewer crooks among those declared holy as among 
  those who find no use for gods, and no fewer well-intended. We will reserve 
  judgment on current dramas of religious persecution.  

Whether a human being can said to be God made flesh, let alone which 
  individual can be said to be this, can be debated into meaninglessness. There 
  are several main schools of thought about it. The prevailing school in the West 
  remains a Christian line, which says that there is one single God. This God 
  parcels out a single soul to each living human, who is otherwise considered as 
  not much more than a moving mass of organized mud, and is unworthy by nature.  

All are represented before God the Father by a single non-physical 
  individual, namely Jesus Christ, a man who healed sick people, raised others 
  from the dead, performed other fantastic wonders and sayings, then was murdered 
  in a routine public ceremony at the behest of an unrecognizing, unappreciative 
  public. This God is not finished with this unappreciative public; at an unknown 
  hour, He will take all the souls he parceled out and dump them into a “lake of 
  fire” for all eternity. Only those for whom Christ has interceded will be 
  allowed to live on in eternity, to live in a city where streets are paved with 
  gold, and to bow up and down in worship of this One God, forever.  One wonders 
  whether his back will ever tire of the exercise. 

As whimsically as I’ve put it, this is the prevailing, if fading, stream of 
  belief about Who and what a God is among Catholic and Protestant churches. It 
is  this drama, essentially, that captured the imaginations of Western peoples 
for  centuries.  

Spontaneous enthusiasm for this story has been dwindling — to the point that 
  some Americans believe that enthusiasm needs to be enforced. Political 
  machinations surrounding our alcoholic president George W. Bush are currently 
  attempting to squeeze this tale into the shape of an official state religion, 
  through fiduciary activity at taxpayer expense. 

Another school of thought, currently rising (if not having had popularity in 
  some ancient time), inherent in a few words of the New Testament, is espoused 
by  some of the notable 20th Century Indian Babas. The Hindu versions of this 
idea  have been distilled further from their Vedic origins by different new-age 
or  maverick churches in he West, or combined with biblical ideations. This 
school  says that all persons are themselves God; yet due to our egoisms, or 
ignorance,  or sinful natures, only the sparsest few among our present billions 
can sense  this divinity within ourselves.  

Those few who are said to have become “god-realized,” who made themselves 
  known to the public as for divine purposes and missions, seem to attract 
  material fortunes from a public that is either inexpressibly grateful or  is 
too  gullible. Although some Hindu religious branches speak of “five ascended 
  masters” who live invisibly on our planet, there are many quite visible gurus 
or  proclaimed avatars around whom devotees have formed practical organizations 
of  high material worth. Monies are collected and practical social advantages, 
such  as political contributions, keep the organizations going, while their 
intents  are to enlighten masses whom, we must assume, are “endarkened” without 
them. 

Sincere or fraudulent, authentic or imitation, each event of the appearance 
  of a man (usually a male) said to be God or god-realized represents a new bud 
of  one size or another upon a very ancient vine. The vine would be human 
  consciousness, and the bud would be civilization.  

A civilization forms through codes of knowledge and behavior that allow each 
  of its members, relatively, the broadest opportunity for value fulfillment. The 
  codes seem most often to have originated with a single man, who is also 
revealed  as God’s prophet, if not God Himself in fleshly clothing. New 
knowledge, or  interpretations of it, is added in that Man-God’s name.  

I wonder about the nature of the human experience itself, as I can not think 
  of any civilization which did not attribute its foundations to a single man at 
  its cornerstone. Even the “godless” communist attempts at a new and sensible 
  kind of civilization quickly became personality-worship cults. Nor should we 
  forget Germany’s abortive attempt to found a “New World Order” around Adolf 
  Hitler. However, neither he nor Marx nor Lenin nor Mao nor Kim could walk on 
  water or rise from the dead.  

Christianity, of all religions, has come closest to uniting the peoples of 
  the entire world. The emergence of avatars in Africa in the twentieth century 
  maintains a continuity with the ancient prophecies found in the bible. “THE 
  THIRD SECRET” cites biblical passages that make a case that Simeon Toko was 
  Christ Returned — at least, different Christian ministers who considered the 
  interpretations did not scorn their logic. The following is an excerpt I have 
  culled from the book (Some of the writing has been altered so as not to confuse 
  the reader who will be reading this out of its context): 

Simeon Toko was born on February 24, 1918, in a northern village in Angola 
  (the “Tsafon” of  Psalm 48: 3) portentously named  “Sadi Banza Zulu Mongo” 
(“the  village of the Celestial Mountain”).  A newborn emerged from his mother’s 
womb  into a very hostile environment. 

For almost fifty years, from 1872 to 1921, this region suffered natural 
  disasters.  There were long droughts between short lulls.  Northern Angola and 
  the southern regions of French and Belgian Congos were devastated. The 
resultant  famines killed thousands; so too were thousands of deaths brought by 
smallpox,  typhoid, sleeping sickness, malaria, and others. 

These different plagues represent the fulfillment of a biblical prediction. 
  None but a few people inspired by the words of  Lord recognized this.  

“And the dragon stood before which was ready to be delivered, for  to devour 
  her child as soon as it was born.” (Revelation 12: 4) 

The baby Simeon Toko was born mere inches from sickness and famine and plague 
  and death, and many leagues from safety. There was not much reason for a baby 
to  want to live, and much against it.  

The infant Toko caught smallpox. He was so badly affected by it that 
  villagers thought the hand of the Almighty Father alone saved his life. He was 
  left with the unpleasant marring of smallpox scars on his face. Compare this 
  prophecy: 

“As many were astonished at thee; his visage was so marred more than any man, 
  and his form more than the sons of men.” (Isaiah 52: 14) 

Not long after Simeon’s birth, a missionary at a Baptist Missionary Society, 
  based in Angola, had a dream.  He dreamed that a Great King had been born in 
the  region under his ministry. He decided to go looking for this baby.  

Requesting guidance from the Holy Spirit, he came to the baby Simeon Toko. 
  Staring at an infant so rachitic, like a “weak and tender plant,” and so 
  blemished a little face, he shook his head.  Doubt had come to stay. He asked 
  one or two questions and left, feeling victimized by his dream and the voice 
  that had led him there. 

In 1949 Simeon attended an international conference of Protestants in 
  Leopoldville (currently called Kinshasa). During this event, the ceremonial 
  masters asked three Africans from Angola to pray.  Those selected were Gaspar 
de  Almeida, Jesse Chiulo Chipenda, and Simeon Toko. Simeon Toko asked in his 
public  prayer that the Holy Spirit manifest in Africa to put an end to the 
abuses of  the colonial powers. 

Toko became a dedicated member of the Baptist Church in Itaga.  He formed a 
  singing choir of 12 people. Instantly this choir became famous and from twelve 
  members it grew into hundreds.  

At each of the choir performances, whether at their church or while visiting 
  another church, the Holy Ghost manifested with such a power that white 
  Missionaries suspected young Toko of possessing black magic powers. Jealously, 
  the missionaries summoned him to abandon his “dark practices.” He responded to 
  them by saying “But if we are praying to the same God, how come when I pray, 
and  there is a manifestation of the Holy Ghost, you accuse me of sorcery? Is it 
  because I am an African that my prayers couldn’t possibly be answered? (see 1 
  Samuel 10: 10)  Does the Holy Spirit discriminate against Africans too?” 

But the missionaries were fed up with him and decided to exclude him from the 
  church.  Then what was meant to happen, happened.  All those who had joined the 
  church on the inspiration of Simeon’s magnificent choir left the church with 
  him.  The question was whether Simeon Toko would abandon these followers, or 
  keep them with him.  

He decided to keep them with him, realizing all the same that a very harsh 
  duty awaited him. He decided to pray again to his Father, repeating the same 
  prayer he had made three years before at the Baptist conference. 

On July 25, 1949, Simeon and 35 members of his choir met on a street called 
  Mayenge, at the house of a man named Vanga Ambrosio. The choir began to sing, 
  waiting for time to pray.  Shortly before midnight, Simeon Toko lifted his eyes 
  to the sky and he addressed this prayer to His father: “Father, I know you 
  always answer my prayers. Now look; consider these sheep you have sent to me.  
  This duty is so immense that without the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, we will 
  never be able to achieve what you intended.  The prayer I addressed to you 
three  years ago, didn’t you hear it?” 

At precisely midnight, a strong wind shook the house and the Holy Spirit 
  possessed  everyone at the prayer meeting, with the exception of a man called 
  Sansao Alphonse, the choir leader.  God let him remain in an ordinary frame of 
  mind so that he could write down the testimonials and miracles taking place 
  before his dumfounded eyes.  Many in the group were speaking in tongues.  Some 
  saw heavenly light and heard celestial voices; others were able to communicate 
  clearly with people several kilometers from where the prayer was taking place. 

The excitement about the miracles that happened at this new Pentecost led 
  Simeon Toko’s followers to spread all over town and start preaching the 
building  of God’s kingdom. This attracted the attention of Belgian colonial 
authorities,  who viewed the activity as a threatening commotion. Within about 
three months  the police began jailing the preachers. 

They were jailed and prosecuted as promptly as were the followers of Simeon 
  Toko’s Messenger, called Kimbanguists, after Simon Kimbangu, who himself was 
  imprisoned, from 1921 until his death in 1951.  

Some were beheaded, burned alive in their homes, drowned in the river, or 
  shot without being prosecuted.  Finally, the colonialists decided to deport 
  them.  The wives, husbands, and children were separated from their families by 
  hundreds and even thousands of kilometers from their homes. When miracles 
  started taking place among the new followers of “Kimbangu,” the Belgian 
  authorities tried to suffocate this new Messianic group at once. 

On October 22nd, 1949, Simeon Toko and 3000 of his companions were put in two 
  different  jails, Ofiltra and Ndolo. After three months in the jails, a decree 
  was passed to deport them out of the country. This is when Simeon Toko started 
  revealing Himself.  

The Belgian Administrator of the jail in Ndolo was named Pirote.  He abused 
  the “Tokoist” prisoners, hurling racist insults. He always ended with: “Filthy 
  nigger, you’re going back to nigger country in Angola!” Tired of this abuse, 
  Simeon Toko replied sharply to Pirote, “Know that if there is a stranger here, 
  it is you! To show you that I am home, the day you make the injustice of 
  deporting me from Belgian Congo, I’ll have you carrying my bags alongside me!” 
  Simeon Toko held up both hands, spread out his fingers, and told the abusive 
  Belgian to count them.  He said, “I give 10 years to the Belgians, not one more 
  or less, to leave this country!” 

No one at that time comprehended these sibylline words.  However, the 
  disciples of Simeon Toko understood later: the day they were deported, Pirote 
  fell dead. He was gripped with an apparent heart attack while working in his 
  office, and died as suddenly as though a bullet had struck him squarely. 

As for the other mysterious statement made by Simeon Toko: ten years later, 
  in 1960, the Belgians were obliged to leave their rich colony of Congo.  

“The Almighty has made my mouth like a sharp sword;”(Isaiah 49: 2). The proof 
  was made with the two anecdotes relating to Pirote and the independence of 
  Belgian Congo, which took place on June the 30th, 1960, exactly as Simeon Toko 
  predicted, each of his fingers representing one year. 

But to impel this event, Simeon Toko “unleashed his army.” This incredible 
  story is very well known throughout central Africa, and will be reported in 
  greater detail in another book. The event was witnessed by thousands of people 
  on January 4th, 1959. Some of the author’s own relatives were there, but so are 
  there thousands of citizens of the city of Kinshasa who witnessed it on that 
day  alive at this writing. January 4th is now a public holiday in Kinshasa and 
  commemorates this event.  

Kinshasa was called Leopoldville. On that day, the “Cherubim and Seraphim” 
  appeared and stood against the Belgian colonial army. The citizens of 
  Leopoldville saw an army of about a thousand very small men — about the size 
of  children, or dwarfs, with very muscular, imposing bodies. Each of these 
  diminutive human-looking creatures showed great strength — for example, a 
  witness saw one of them flip a five-ton truck over with one arm!  

The Belgian soldiers fired at these little brown angels to no effect. 
  Terrified, the colonial army was thrown into confusion. The little men 
  disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared. One year after this amazing mass 
  apparition, the Democratic Republic of Congo was a new and independent country. 
  

After being deported and arriving in Angola, the real tribulations of the 
  “man of sorrow acquainted with grief and sufferings” were to start. Never again 
  would Simeon Toko rest. His life would be a string of non-stop attempts to kill 
  him to prevent his Mission.  


Let us follow what he experienced, from Leopoldville, where he was unjustly 
  incarcerated, and to Angola. While incarcerated in Angola, the Portuguese 
  authorities deported him: 

1. To the Colonato of Vale do Loge, in the municipality of Bembe, Northern 
  Angola; 
2. From Bembe to Waba Caconda; 
3. From Caconda to Hoque, 30 
  kilometers of San da Bandeira; 
4. From San da Bandeira to Waba Caconda 
  again: 
5. From Caconda to Cassinga – Vila Artur de Paiva; 
6. From 
  Cassinga to Jau, in Chibia’s canton; 
7. From Chibia, back to San da 
  Bandeira; 
8. From San da Bandeira to Mocamedes, in the municipality of 
Porto  Alexandre, or more precisely at Ponta Albina. 
9. From Ponta Albina to 
  Luanda, the capital of Angola. 

All of these deportations took place in a 12 year period.  Simeon Toko’s 
  captivity in these prisons and agricultural compounds lasted from three months, 
  at San da Bandeira, to as long as five years, at Ponta Albina. 

The objectives of these deportations were to reduce Simeon Toko’s influence 
  and to dismantle his church. Contrarily, everywhere he and his followers were 
  sent, they indoctrinated even more and more members into the belief of what 
  Portuguese called “Tokoism.” In the end the Portuguese authorities decided to 
  use their last measure.  “Simeon Toko delenda (must be destroyed).” 

Thus, when he was sent to slavery in an agricultural field in Caconda, in 
  southern Angola, his head was offered for a price.  Two Portuguese foremen, 
  excited by the reward, decided to take their chance. They put a plan in action 
  to murder Simeon Toko. 

During a stay in Angola in 1994, we collected the testimony of Pastor Adelino 
  Canhandi, who was a cook at the Caconda agricultural compound. He saw what 
  happened.  

Busy with cooking, he  heard a voice calling him, “Canhandi, Canhandi, come 
  here.”  It was Simeon Toko. Once outside, surprised and curious, Toko told him 
  “to stand there and be watchful.  Once again the Son of Man will be tested.” 
  Strange words in in particular for Canhandi, who was not then a Christian and 
  didn’t understand the term or what Simeon Toko wanted of him. Curious, he 
  watched. 

Trade magazines that deal with farm machinery routinely warn users about it. 
  Harvesting machines such as seed-sowers are exceptionally dangerous, as is very 
  well known. Accidents involving the business end of a sower simply aren’t 
  survived, and in many cases, there is not enough left of the body for display 
at  a funeral.  

One of the Portuguese foremen showed up and hailed Simeon Toko, “Hey Simeon, 
  you see that tractor over there? There are weeds clogging the sower. Go clean 
  them out!” Submissively, the docile prisoner crawled under the engine to fix 
it.  When he was under the engine, the foreman, sitting in the driver’s seat, 
started  it up, which automatically activated the rotating blades of the seed 
sower.  Simeon Toko’s body was instantly severed in several pieces.Terrified, 
Canhandi  stood frozen to the spot, watching.  The foreman shifted into reverse 
to back up  and check the damage.  A second foreman, who was in service that 
day, flashed a  victory sign, indicating that they had succeeded. 

Then the unbelievable happened.  Before Canhandi and the two Portuguese 
  accomplices, the body of Simeon Toko recomposed itself; Simeon Toko stood up. 
  Canhandi could not believe his eyes! The Portuguese ran away in terror. From 
  that day on, Canhandi believed in the Lord, and his entire family converted to 
  the church of Simeon Toko. 

It was also that day that Simeon Toko made it known who he was behind that 
  smallpox-marred face, purposefully behaving in accord with the following 
  scripture: 

“Therefore doth my father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might 
  take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have 
  power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This commandment have 
I  received of my Father.” (John 10: 17-18) 

During Simeon Toko’s stay in Luanda, the capital of Angola, while he was in 
  the process of being deported for the ninth time, another event happened to 
show  his hidden and true identity. 

We should say that when he came on earth in Palestine, Christ referred to 
  Himself in the third person, using the term “the Son of Man.”  This time, 
  Canhandi was one of the rare persons to hear the Christ refer to Himself 
  differently. Simeon most usually spoke of the Lord Jesus Christ, which meant to 
  his followers that he too was a servant of Christ, like everybody else. Despite 
  the miracles happening around  him, just like a shadow, no one knew who he 
  really was.  

His followers were once again bewildered when they found out that two top 
  level emissaries were dispatched by Pope John XXIII to Angola to meet Simeon 
  Toko and deliver a personal message to him.  

One of the Emissaries was unfortunate to fall ill with dysentary when he 
  arrived in Luanda and wound up in a hospital.  The other was received by Simeon 
  Toko, and he said to him, “I am an emissary of Pope John XXIII, who personally 
  mandated me and my colleague to come and ask you a single question: Who are 
  you?” 

Let us bear in mind that the year was 1962, two years after the fateful date 
  when the Vatican had instructions to make public the third Secret of Fatima. 
  John XXIII had read the message, kept it  a secret, and very likely had sent 
his  emissaries to Simeon Toko with a sinking feeling in his heart. 

Simeon Toko responded, “I am amazed that a high ranking person like the Pope 
  is interested enough about my being to make you travel 8000 km just to meet me. 
  The answer that you should give your master for me is in the biblical 
scripture,  Matthew 11: 2 to 6.” 

Let’s now put ourselves in Pope John’s shoes as he read the text suggested by 
  Toko:  

“And now when John had heard in the prison the works of Christ, he sent two 
  of his disciples, and said unto him. Are thou he that should come, or do we 
look  for another? Jesus answered and said unto them. Go and show John again 
those  things which ye do hear and see: The blind receive their sight, and the 
lame  walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, 
and  the poor have the gospel preached to them. And blessed is he, whosoever 
shall  not be offended in me.” 

Now, we already have referred to an arrow hidden in the quiver of the 
  Almighty, which can indeed be shot from any distance —  even if thousands of 
  kilometers separate archer and target; even if 2000 years separate them, it 
  reaches its target.  

Using a brief biblical quotation, Simeon Toko gave Pope John XXIII to 
  understand that what the Pope had found in the note written by Lucia Dos Santos 
  was true. Indeed the former Cardinal Roncalli could have picked any name as 
  Pope: He could have chosen Gregory, Benoit, Peter, Paul, or any of hundreds of 
  saints’ names. But he chose “John,” so that now the scripture in Matthew that 
  Simeon Toko sent him to read addressed him directly by name.  

Fearing Who it was now living among the most disdained people on earth, the 
  Pope contacted the Portuguese dictator, Antonio de Salazar.  

On July 18, 1962, Simeon Toko was again arrested and deported; this time, not 
  to some isolated corner in his native Angola, but to Portugal, where his birth 
  had been formally announced in 1917, in Fatima. 

“Jesus said unto him, “Did ye never read in the scriptures: ‘The stone which 
  the builders rejected, the same is become the head of the corner: this is the 
  Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.” (Matthew 21: 42) 

Indeed the builders (“Pontiff” means “builder of bridges”) had again rejected 
  the cornerstone. 

When Simeon Toko was brought to Portugal a Portuguese Air Force plane was 
  waiting for him. The plane had state-of-the-art telecommunication and 
navigation  systems. 

In the plane sat a Catholic priest and members of Salazar’s secret police, 
  PIDE-DGS, including the pilot and copilot. Their mission was to fly out over 
the  Atlantic ocean and after about an hour’s distance, push Simeon Toko out of 
the  plane into the deep sea.  This was the same inhuman treatment that 
Argentinian  military used years later for their political opponents. 

Supposedly, the Catholic Priest was brought along on the plane to counteract 
  the magic powers of the African, through praying. But this skillfully planned 
  project was about to backfire.  

The moment the PIDE agents rose to subdue him and carry out their murder, 
  Simeon Toko stood up and ordered the plane to stop. The aircraft stopped in 
  midair. It stood still, not advancing an inch, nor rose or fell backward.  

The crew was stricken by panic. The priest could hardly breathe, and hoarsely 
  huffed out desperate prayers. They all started imploring the”preto” [Portuguese 
  denigratory meaning “nigger’] for mercy. Simeon lifted his eyes and hands 
  towards the heaven and after a short prayer he ordered the plane to move again. 
  At once the plane started moving.  

Simeon Toko related this story himself. For those who are skeptical, we would 
  remind you that the authority of our sciences do not determine all that is 
  possible on earth or in heaven. This same Personality stopped a storm on a sea 
  for a group of terrified fishermen 2000 years ago. He also walked across the 
  surface of the water and inspired the sun to weave and dance gaily at Fatima.  

As an “exiled political prisoner,” Simeon Toko was deprived of all human 
  rights. We will pass for now on the many other murder attempts upon his body 
  during his forced stay in Ponta Delgada ( Archipelago of the Azores).  

At a future date, we will publish a record of miracles performed by Simeon 
  Toko which were seen by eyewitnesses. Since the objective of this book is to 
  expose secrets kept from the spiritually hungry, we here select only a few 
  attempts made against Simeon Toko during his years of imprisonment on Ponta 
  Delgada Island, under the pretense of being a “political” prisoner. He was 
  assigned the chore of maintaining a lighthouse there.  

Dona Laurinda Zaza is a “vate” for present day Toko followers. A vate 
  (VAH-tay)  is a sort of prophetic trance medium. Dona Laurinda experienced the 
  following event as she saw it happen to “Tio Simao” (a nickname meaning “Uncle 
  Simon”) while he was in exile in Portugal. Simeon Toko confirmed the fact of 
  this event later, and revealed the physical damage that the doctors had done; 
  over the years, thousands of people saw this scarring on his chest. “You could 
  almost see Toko’s heart pounding in his chest through the scar; an almost 
  unbearable sight,” Dona Laurinda said.  

This referred to a most remarkable attempt by these astonishingly misguided 
  men to kill Simeon Toko under Dictator Antonio Salazar’s orders.  This attempt, 
  which would have been a “first degree murder” if the victim were anyone else, 
  took place shortly before his return to freedom in July 1974.  

Some doctors found themselves reading the reports of his purported 
  invulnerability. They thought they might pass the time by drilling for the 
  secret which seemed to protect the mysterious African man. They meant to 
perform  an autopsy on a living human being.  

Under the pretext of removing a tumor in his chest, the doctors had Simeon 
  Toko taken to hospital. They put him on an operating table, cut a jagged, 
mortal  wound in the left side of the center of his chest, reached into his 
chest  cavity, and pulled out his still-beating heart. The aorta and other 
arteries  were severed by scalpel and his heart was removed. Simeon lay dead, 
his body  covered with the warm blood that splashed out of his heart and chest.  

Image

The doctors dumped Simeon Toko’s heart in a metal pan and took it to a 
  laboratory, in another room. They ran various tests on it, expecting to find 
  what, undetermined. The gadgets and microscopes and probings showed there was 
  nothing physically extraordinary or abnormal about Simeon Toko’s heart. The 
  doctors concluded that this purloined organ would not have been the source of 
  his invulnerability — if it can be said that men can make conclusions about 
any  such thing.  

Simeon Toko came to on the operating table. To their horror and bewilderment, 
  his heartless corpse was moving on its own volition. He opened his eyes, sat up 
  and looked at them, the chest wound by which they had casually murdered him 
  gaping open. “Why are you persecuting me this way?” he said to them. “Give me 
  back my heart!”  

For now we will refrain from reporting many other significant events that 
  happened that same day. We can let you know, however, that the exact time his 
  heart was taken from him, he decided to give a finishing blow to Portuguese 
  colonial power and rule over Angola. 

Returning to his native country of Angola, on August 31, 1974, he was 
  carrying the independence of Angola in his pocket. A year later, on November 
11,  1975, the country of Angola gained its independence from Portugal. 

There, Where Eagles are 
  Gathered
 

At this point of our narration, you might wish to ask us a question burning 
  on your lips: “Where is he right now?” 

We leave it to the scripture to talk: 

“The disciples answered and said unto him, where, Lord? And he said unto 
  them, wherever the body is, thither will the Eagles be gathered together”  

(Luke 17: 37) 

The response of Jesus in latin was “Ubicumque fuerit corpus, illuc 
  congregabuntur et aquilae.” (Luke 17: 37) 

This passage or scripture gave migraine headaches to a generation of biblists 
  because: 

A: The action takes place at the time of the end; 
B: Jesus speaks here 
  about a body, His physical corpse; 
C: This body or corpse is on a high 
  mountain. 

We translated the last part of Luke 17: 34, in latin because the text becomes 
  more transparent.  In many Bibles, the title that summarizes verses 22-37 of 
  Luke 17 is:  “Jesus announces his Second Coming.” 

We are now at that “time of the end;” in simple english it means our time, 
  and not the physical destruction of the world.  In latin a possessive article 
is  not required when the sense of the sentence is such as it does not leave any 
  doubt about the owner. This is the case here, so that Jesus indicated His 
  physical body.  

Many translators have replaced the word “aquilae,” “eagles,” with “vultures,” 
  which seems more logical in referring to the locale of a dead body out in open 
  country.  Nevertheless, “Aquilae” must here be considered for its literal and 
  allegorical meanings. 

Symbolically speaking, the eagle designates a high ranking person, “someone 
  in a high place.”  The sense in which to attribute the context of this word is 
  of a temporal, but especially spiritual, superior rank in authority.  

Eagles prefer to fly and live at high altitudes, and assemble only on high 
  mountains. Here is what O. Dapper wrote, a columnist of  the 16th century in 
  discovering Kongo dia Totela’s capital: 

“The town is placed on the most high mountain of the country, because from 
  the port of Pinda where we disembarked, until we reached Kongo, it took us 10 
  days of walk and continous climbing until we reached the aforementioned city, 
  which is inside the province of Pemba.  This province is located at the center 
  of the Kingdom and is the head of all other provinces, and the origin of the 
  ancient kingdoms.” 

The sentence from Luke can then be understood as follows, “I shall return in 
  the flesh without the people recognizing me; as a thief or swindler. I shall 
  secretly carry out my mission.  Once my mission is fulfilled, I shall leave my 
  mortal coil on a high mountain.” 

Durin the night of December 31st to January 1st, 1984, when the death of 
  Simeon Toko was announced by the media,  thunderclaps of virtually seismic 
force  and torrential rain burst the skies of Luanda. It had not rained in this 
area  for several years. Meteorologists were mystified. For three days the rain 
fell  continuously. The occurrence of this event was attributed to all the 
rumors  surrounding the death of this great prophet. 

A certain politician was recognized as one of the toughest men surrounding 
  Neto, the President of the Republic of Angola. He was often called upon for 
  delicate and confident missions. During the war for independence, the 
  Portuguese, whom he fought during a 14-year war for the liberation of his 
  country,  had a good deal to say about him. His name aroused dread and awe; he 
  led a resistance group specializing in chopping heads with “catanas” 
(machetes).  This man was one of President Neto’s army officers.  His name was 
Comandante  Paiva.  

After hearing the news that Simeon Toko had died, Paiva rushed to where the 
  body lay exposed for public viewing. He fought his way through the crowd of 
tens  of thousands of people.  He was astonished at the sight of it. 

He stood looking at Simeon’s body.  He asked to speak. He declared “It is not 
  true that Simeon Toko is dead, because he is invulnerable!” To make such a 
  public confession was blatantly incriminating. Seven years before now, 
  Comandante Paiva had orders to kill Simeon Toko once and for all. He told the 
  public that this is what he and his men had done:  

He had Simeon Toko kidnapped, took him to a secret  location, and once there 
  he butchered him methodically, like a meatpacker with an animal carcass; he 
  severed Simeon’s head, then his arms and legs, then split his chest and abdomen 
  apart.  

He stuffed the butchered corpse into a large bag, tied the top with a string, 
  and hid it in a certain location.  After three days, he brought helpers back to 
  get the bag and take it to the ocean to throw to the sharks. By now the bag had 
  disappeared. The men began to argue about its whereabouts. 

Suddenly, in the midst of their bickering about who may have moved it, a 
  voice they described as sounding like ” the sounds of many waters” (Revelation 
  1: 15) overshadowed their own voices:  “WHO are you looking for? I am here!” It 
  was Simeon Toko, in flesh and bone, alive, standing majestically. The men 
dashed  away shouting “E o Deus, e o Deus!”  which means “He is God, He is God!” 
  

Paiva’s butchering had been the last time that anybody dared to touch a 
  single hair on the head of Simeon Toko. And now that Simeon’s body lay 
discarded  by its owner, by choice, he refused to believe it. 

Before I continue, a correction must be made. Shortly after my last 
segment  was published here, my good friend Pastor Melo, from whom I am getting 
most of  the stories of Simeon Toko, arrived here in Tucson from Paris to go 
over the  book (again, the title: “The True Third Secret of Fatima Revealed” and 
“The  Truth of Christ”). We found that the bible quotations which seem to 
indicate  Simeon Toko’s identity had suffered many bruises in translation from 
french to  english, as well as from footnotes from different versions of that 
book over the  decade in which the first draft was produced.  
With the assistance of a local protestant minister named Brother Godfrey Lord 
  (who speaks in prophetic tongues and does extremely well) , we spent a dozen 
  hours a day making corrections. One of us manned  the computer, the other the 
  hard-copy manuscript, and the other read aloud from one single King James 
  version bible, fixing every thee-and-thou and comma and period. 

THE TRUE THIRD SECRET, incidentally, contains an excellent appendix which 
  thumbnails a brief history of the bible from its origins in the fourth century 
  to the present. While it may be that Simeon Toko is Christ returned, in the 
  fashion Christ Himself related (indeed no one is required to “go to the field,” 
  that is, to take trips to visit any individual, anywhere, said to be a 
Messiah),  it would be unrealistic to assert that “the Word of God” has not been 
altered by  theologically and politically motivated men, many times.  

These, however, while a difficult editing chore, were not the most important 
  mistakes needing repair. Translation had obscured some of the stories of “Tio 
  Simao (‘Uncle Simon’)” himself, and one such error appeared in the excerpt I 
  presented in the latest article. Corrected forthwith: 

Simeon Toko was not in a prison, and he was not abused by prison doctors, 
  when his heart was removed in the horrendous vivisection related in that 
  chapter. He was in exile, remanded by the Portuguese government  to operate a 
  lighthouse on an island in the Azores (We don’t have an American term for this 
  sort of forced labor, as American the penal system operates differently). A 
  Portuguese doctor had been reading 
records about Toko’s alleged 
  “invincibility,” and invited several doctors from around Europe to perform the 
  exploratory murder attempt along with him. Toko was taken to a local civilian 
  hospital for this adventure, behind the guise of an excuse.  

If there are medical records available to confirm this event independently, I 
  do not have them now. I would like to see them. All of us involved with this 
  project, here in the states, consider ourselves “doubting Thomases,” to say the 
  least. Yet the stories of witnesses and followers has kept our fascination.  

Pastor Melo has also had his doubts and wonders and expresses them freely; 
  nevertheless, he pursues his journey for “Tio Simao” with the particular 
  innocence of a man who independently follows his inner visions, whatever they 
  may be. Indeed it was a powerful psychic vision in 1983, which occurred in 
dream  states over a period of days, that impelled him to begin writing the 
book.  This  highly charged episode of inner communication was his first such 
experience;  until then, he was a not untypical African expatriate, scrambling 
to make a  living in Europe for which there were no opportunities at home.  

Those who met Pastor Melo at an impromptu meeting last April (he’ll be back) 
  might confirm with me that he appears to be a perfectly ordinary, friendly man, 
  not some wild-haired raving religious lunatic. Nor do his 
eyes glow; and if 
  he has a halo, we didn’t see one.  

A pleasant-looking 45-year-old Parisian, with an easy natural warmth, 
  modestly dressed, Pastor Melo started a little uncertainly with the eleven 
  people who had gathered as a result of the EMERGING AWARENESS article; he 
  repeated the story of the Fatima miracle of 1917 to those who had never heard 
of  it (the event remains a major issue among Catholics throughout “the third 
  world.”)  

As the evening wore on, Melo found himself relaxing in friendly company; he 
  was quite surprised to learn what these Americans “already know.”  He hadn’t 
  expected Americans to be amenable to the possibility, that, for 
instance, 
  the most ancient Egyptians were largely a black race, or that much of the lore 
  and artwork regarding biblical characters who were originally black had been 
  altered by the Vatican over the centuries. He was also surprised to see that 
  nearly everyone had come prepared with notebooks to note down what he would 
have  to say.  

The guests were open and frank and did express their beliefs quite ably for 
  themselves. But I sat asking myself, “how is it a group of people have gathered 
  over, basically, the news that a man has been murdered and 
returned to life 
  again?” And as one of the guests, who also had an interest in the significance 
  of numbers, pointed out, 12 people were present, the number of Christ’s 
  apostles, as well as the number of people in Simeon Toko’s first choir, where 
  all the Divine Trouble began in the first place.  

Leaning a bit on the good humor I would expect of a man who knows how to get 
  people to kill him so he can come back to life, I’m going to personalize the 
  tone of my essay further, for now.  

As I worked along on this project, I had to ask myself daily, “do I believe 
  any of this?” One evening I took a break, and took a walk, pondering what I 
  myself had just typed about some African man: killed multiple times, 
resurrected  Himself each time. How could anyone still believe such a thing? 
Could such a man  be real? If it is, then what I’d been imagining of him as I 
wrote along would  amount to a communication, as, after all, God hears 
Everything. I wondered if  this man, with his “special powers,” could send 
signs, and so on, as Christ  legendarily 
did. 

Within moments of that thought I saw a young man killed before my eyes, 
  struck by a car in an act of negligence that was horrifying to see. I heard the 
  sound of a human head cracking on the pavement from about 12 
yards away. I 
  will not describe more of what I saw, although I will for a public prosecutor;  
  but I might be unable to describe my shock. I had seen deaths before, but there 
  is no describing the feeling when someone innocent, and presumably unprepared 
  for death, is violated this way. If there ever was a meaning to the word 
  “unspeakable,” this would be it.  

The young man’s body lay motionless in the middle of the busy street, like a 
  discarded marionette; a small group of people surrounded him to prevent any 
more  ravaging from negligent drivers who still whizzed by, perhaps more 
concerned  that something was obstructing whatever errands they were running. 
The police  and the paramedics finally appeared, and I watched the paramedics 
cover over his  mangled face. I walked away 
feeling terrible about the young 
man: I  regretted whatever past had led to such a harsh and insulting end 
to 
his  life. He looked my son’s age, and this made the scene more poignant.  

When I called the police the following morning to leave my number as a 
  witness, I learned that the young man had lived through the night, and was 
  expected to live. What was a terrible blazing of despair before my 
eyes the 
  evening before, was suddenly a fabulous blaze of hope, coming to me through my 
  telephone. I never imagined that I would have felt this exultant at news of a 
  young stranger who seemed to have died before my 
eyes, then revived. 
  Psychologically, I had witnessed a man killed who returned to life.  

I don’t think that Simeon Toko “sends signs” so harsh as to kill people 
  before one’s eyes as a philosophical lesson. Nor do I think that the “special 
  powers” credited anyone said to be divine include the power of 

life-and-death over anyone but themselves, and the wisdom not to begrudge 
  others the same.  Yet, as remarked in THE THIRD SECRET, “A coincidence is God 
  trying to pass by unnoticed.”  

All of us die and return from the dead, all the time. Perhaps Christ is a 
  great Shaman, who reappears every so often to keep us reminded when most 
needed. 

“Upon the clouds, cometh the son of Man, in His power and 
glory” 
Can it be said that there is one human being, who acts as a sort of nerve 
  center of all the hopes and fears and potentialities of humanity? An individual 
  with a soul so expansive, so filled with the energy and knowledge of the ages, 
  that it unites all the souls of all the individuals of the planet into Himself? 
  

Of course many people will reply “yes” with an exclamation point, and perhaps 
  slap a pamphlet in your hand complete with picture and Wise Sayings attributed 
  to Him. 

There are quite a few of Him. Last February (2000) a book came into my hands 
  seriously in need of rewriting, which purported to tell the story of one Simeon 
  Toko, whom many Africans believe is Christ returned. I decided to do what 
  independent research I could do on the matter, write an article about it, send 
  it across the internet, and see what happened. At this writing, two or three 
  months after the publication of the article in Nexus Magazine, I am still 
  receiving phone calls and e-mails about it. Here follow a few reader reactions 
  to my “African Avatars and the Secret of Fatima” story, Nexus magazine, 
  August/September 2001: 

A woman left this message on my answering machine (30 September, 2001): 

“I’d like to talk to you… I think a few years back coming back 
  from a trip down south, I saw… in the clouds…  a silhouette in the 
  clouds…  at first I thought it should be a Egyptian face, but it didn’t look 
  like that…  just now I was reading the article in Nexus… [the face in the 
  clouds] looked just like Simeon Toko… it would be nice to talk to you…” 

Others who had read the Nexus article had called me from around the globe: 
  scholars and merchants and people from ordinary walks of life; the excitement 
in  most of the voices was unconcealed. All felt a strangely compelling interest 
in  the strange story I’d written, which, just as strangely, Nexus had accepted 
for  publication. 

After reading the Nexus article, a medical doctor in Arizona dreamed that 
  Simeon Toko had spirited him off to Angola — for this, he decided to take a 
  trip to Angola to visit the sites showed him in the dream; a housewife in 
  Michigan dreamed an epic dream of a tall, homely black man (my article didn’t 
  mention that Simeon Toko was exceptionally tall);  an Australian couple 
  remembered awaking a couple years ago to see a tall, homely-looking black man 
  standing and looking at them in the middle of the night; a Protestant Minister 
  from Canada saw Simeon Toko standing in his back yard, and now wondered if he 
  hadn’t gone crazy;  

A fragile 83 year old woman, voice as twittery as a bird’s, came to my little 
  apartment to discuss this article. She sat down gingerly on the swivel chair I 
  offered her, and explained to me that there are 9 Christs on our planet at any 
  given time, and Simeon Toko is one of them.  

Then she explained that higher beings from the planet Venus were sending rays 
  to enlighten the nervous systems of all who were open to this remote-controlled 
  therapy. She learned this in a class she was taking. 

She then asked me to put my two hands together and hold my fingers forward. 
  Sure enough, as she suspected, my index fingers are identically curved. This 
  means that I am one of the Elect of God, one of the 144,000. I believe Pastor 
  Melo, the main author of the book, had told me the same, in one of his first 
  letters to me. 

Then the old darling showed me a nasty scar which had healed on her left 
  upper arm. She explained that the CIA had loosened the pinions of her porch 
roof  last year, and it fell in while she was standing under it.  

She assured me that the CIA and the FBI both are out to destroy all religion; 
  they’d rough up an 83-year-old woman to achieve those ends. They know who the 
  Elect are and where they live. They tried to get her — but us Elect are meaner 
  than any mere collapsing roof. 

I don’t know if I like being one of the Elect. Obviously, it’s an important 
  enough position to get CIA men crawling around invisibly in your woodwork, but 
  the reward — getting to bow up and down day and night for all eternity before 
a  big faceless Light (capital “L”) — doesn’t sound much better than the 
  punishment for unrepentant sinning, which is to swim around aimlessly in a huge 
  lake of fire with everybody else, also for all eternity. So describeth the book 
  of Revelation.  

Another woman, a government worker, came dressed properly and speaking 
  rationally, to tell me that she had heard Pastor Melo speak in Himmel Park, 
here  in Tucson, Arizona, the previous Sunday at the end of August. She decided 
that  Simeon Toko indeed must be Christ — or more properly, “Christed.”  One of 
the  Ascended Masters has revealed Himself to the world at large, for divine 
  purposes.  She did not wish to join the Tokoist church. 

Dear Readers will forgive me if I have this wrong; I understood her to mean 
  that one is Christed with Divine powers, to raise the consciousness of all the 
  peoples of the earth — or at least be available telepathically from some 
  exalted hiding place for those who believe it so.  

Of the dozens of letters I received about the article, only a single one was 
  negative. A South African man warned me that these people were nothing but 
  communists who practiced witchcraft, up to trickery. His letter seemed as crazy 
  as any of those willing to “believe,” having merely read a story. 

While he was here staying with me, Pastor Melo told me one of Simeon Toko’s 
  sayings:  “Everybody I attract is crazy. I’m crazy, you’re crazy — but 
everyone  else is even crazier.” Perhaps a thousand years from now, the Tio Toko 
  Tabernacle Choir — the greatest choir ever assembled by man — will ring out 
  with combined voices of the most majestic singers mankind has ever heard. The 
  Holy Spirit will be upon them, just as it was on that July night in 1949. They 
  will resound, echoing from the Vaults of Heaven in Holy Jubilation: 

I’m Crazy 
You’re Crazy 
Everyone else is Even Crazier! 

Pastor Melo tells me that Simeon Toko in his lifetime had a profound sense of 
  humor. Toko insisted that no one call him “Papa” or “Father.  He said that the 
  world had had enough of that sort of thing, and so if they had to give him any 
  such title, to call him “Tio” — “Uncle,” in Portuguese.  

Tio said he will be returning; in historical terms, he should be returning 
  pretty soon. He mercifully made his wife mute before he died, Pastor Melo says, 
  and said that she would speak again to indicate when he had returned. His wife 
  is now past age seventy. Simeon Toko left a wife and two daughters. 

There, Where Eagles Gather 
A young Angolan Tokoist named Avelino told me that he was present to hear Tio 
  give his farewell speech, a week before his death, in 1984. Some thousands were 
  present, listening intently. He said that Simeon Toko pulled out a handkerchief 
  from his pocket and told the crowd to do the same. He said “when a sparrow is 
  about to leave a branch, he gives it a little shake to say goodbye and thank it 
  for its support.” Holding out his handkerchief, he said “I will now shake my 
  branch like the sparrow. I would like you all to shake your handkerchiefs with 
  me.” The crowd did that, and a week later, Tio died.  

The newspapers announced that Simeon Toko, 66, died of heart failure. His 
  body remains undecayed and intact, they say, in the fashion of Paramahansa 
  Yogananda and other holy men, high on a Mountain in Angola. 

Unless Ye See Signs and Wonders, Ye Shall Not Believe
Come on. Somebody REALLY got chopped to pieces and pulled himself together, 
  four different times? Got killed by unbelievers, then came back to life? Well, 
  Tio himself was fond of saying “what’s happened before will happen again.” 

Next thing you’ll try to tell me is that this already happened two thousand 
  years ago. The “Christed” Jesus bin Nazareth was insulted and beaten and 
  tortured, nailed to a cross, poked through the chest with an iron rod, dumped 
in  a heap in a tomb, and then rose from the dead, flying up into the sky, 40 
days  later.  

That’s quite a story. Is it possible? By strange coincidence, I happened to 
  beat my dog to death not too long ago — even though I knew it had done nothing 
  wrong. I was jealous of its gentle wisdom and supernatural powers. This morning 
  I noticed it had dug its way out of the compost heap and was flying around the 
  yard. I’ve been ignoring it, since I’m sure it’s only trying to make me feel 
  guilty. If I give in, I know next it will want money. Maybe a dog that brought 
  itself back to life doesn’t any need of my money, but experience shows his 
  appointed representatives may want a lot of it.  (Note: this sardonicism is, of 
  course, entirely fictitious. The author is very fond of dogs and does not even 
  advocate hitting animals. Plus, if Christ Himself can’t take a joke, we’re 
  doomed beyond recognition.) 

The scholar Acharya S has thoroughly detailed in a book called THE CHRIST 
  CONSPIRACY that before Simeon Toko, and before Jesus Christ, civilisation had 
  long been paved with stories of god-humans Who died, came back to life, and 
  offered eternal life to believers through their graces. 

If mankind as a species were less literal-minded, this would not be 
  scandalous news, entertained solely by an embittered intellectual elite. Most 
  people with a little ancient history in their reading can name a few of these 
  human-gods. Dionysus and Mithra and Osiris and Hercules and Persephone come to 
  mind. People believed that these were human beings, whatever else they were, 
who  were killed and returned to life. Were they all fakes?  

Acharya S homes in on the story of the Egyptian God-Man Horus, the Son of 
  Man, born of Ra. He was called “KRST,” or “Christ” in modern english. Some 
  uncertain long time before Jesus, Horus was born of a virgin of a royal house; 
  he had a token earthly father named Joseph (in Egyptian, “Seb”); he confounded 
  the elders with his wisdom as a boy; Horus raised Lazarus (“El-Azarus”) from 
the  dead,  multiplied loaves and fishes for the multitudes, preached 8 
Beatitudes  from a Mount, was crucified, died, and was buried.  

Horus rose again in 3 days, and after a bit, took his seat at the right hand 
  of Ra, from there to judge the living and the dead.  Forever and ever, amen. 

“Amen” isn’t even a Christian word. Nor is it latin or greek or even hebrew. 
  It’s the name of the chief Egyptian god, aka Ammon; all Christians living and 
  deceased, have unwittingly been giving lip service to the Egyptian Alpha and 
  Omega, Ammon, for two thousand years. Amen or Ammon was known also in the 
  ancient world as the planet Jupiter. The ancients, obviously, could see that 
  planet in ways we now can not.  

The idea that the dead can return to life is not new to us through 
  operating-table accidents of the past century. The Egyptians left instructions 
  on how to bring them back; they also provided tips on how to fend off an entire 
  armada, just by dreaming it away (Budge, EGYPTIAN MAGIC). 

Acharya S and those of her school — which may go back in history as far as 
  the myths do — dismiss the entire thing as a myth, a raft of delusion floating 
  on a sea of fabrication already several thousand years deep.  I wrote to inform 
  her that once again, in our time, stories werespreading from obscure parts of 
  the world (as was Jerusalem) of men performing great miracles, speaking 
  memorable epigrams, and physically returning from the dead before the eyes of 
  witnesses. She did not respond to my inquiry. 

Simeon Toko willed an ocean-going ship into a port, witnessed by the 
  some-thousand passengers on it. The captain had refused to stop in that port, 
so  “Tio” simply made it sail there by itself. Most of those passengers must 
still  be alive, and some must be willing to testify about it. Acharya S might 
call  this a “myth,” if kindly.  

The problem is the word “myth.” A myth is a thing that never happened. Facts 
  exist, myths do not. Case closed.  

In so doing, scientists throw out their own baby with the bathwater. Many 
  scientific disciplines have similarly misty origins. Chemistry, as we learn in 
  elementary school, originated with alchemy, with its incantations, magic, and 
  intent to transform elements — not so much water into wine as lead into gold. 
  Cyclotrons have finally done this trick, but not very well. For another 
  instance, Isaac Newton believed that gravity came from God. We bolstered his 
  belief and studies with a patchwork of revisions to make the movements of our 
  rockets and satellites predictable to our ken.  

And as with Christianity, evolutionary theory began with testimony, not 
  proof. Darwin looked at rock pigeons and fossils and testified loudly to the 
  “truth” that they were related by descendancy, no differently than his 
celebrity  bible-beating father testified to the Crucifixion. “Darwinism” 
captured the  imaginations of millions in a surprisingly short time, and re-set 
the course of  science and society. Since then, science  has spent a great part 
of its history  seeking proofs for Darwin’s ideas and garnering funds and 
political influence.  Is that not the same process that unfolded from the events 
described, true or  false, in the New Testament? The only difference in the 
final analysis may be in  funny hats.  

The idea that an ordered universe appeared due to random bumpings of 
  inanimate objects over billions of years, or that every few million years a 
  fruit fly would accidentally grow a wing that seemed, coincidentally, to work, 
  is as ridiculous as any. It’s a myth.  

Acharya S points out, rightly, that the Christ myths by whatever name center 
  around healing. This is how the story of Simeon Toko began, with the healing 
and  raising from the dead of hundreds, if not thousands of people, by his 
claimed  prophet, Simon Kimbangu, in 1921 (Pastor Melo says that Kimbangu wrote 
in a  private letter to his sister that “when you see a young man from northern 
Angola  doing as I did, you will know he is the one.”)  

With this in mind, and with this risen Son of Man named Simeon Toko in mind, 
  I asked Pastor Melo — who has been called Simeon Toko’s “special messenger” — 
  to do me a favor.  

Beth is a beautiful young woman who lives in Ohio. She suffers from a serious 
  brain ailment that keeps her in almost constant pain. She says that she is a 
  believing Christian. Therefore, I asked Pastor Melo if he would sign a copy of 
  the book I had to send her, and if he would pray for her, to see if this would 
  help her pain, or help her with some kind of healing. 

Very kindly, he agreed. Pastor Melo asked for a few moments alone, to pray 
  for Beth and consider what to write to her, on the inspiration of Tio.  

I stepped outside into the yard, under the evening sky. Without intending so, 
  I glimpsed Pastor Melo praying in my lighted room, through the window. His eyes 
  were turned upward. His face had the greatest expression of sincerity. It was 
  beautiful sight to see a man so totally engrossed in his prayer, as solid and 
  unmoving as a mountain. Quickly, I turned away to leave him entirely to his 
  privacy, wondering if Beth wasn’t effecting a full healing at that very moment, 
  two thousand miles away, somewhere in Ohio. 

Finally, Pastor Melo inscribed the book for her, using a quote from Isaiah, 
  and let me know he was finished. I sent the book off to Beth.  

Weeks went by, and I hadn’t heard from Beth. I sent her an e-mail asking how 
  she was. Perhaps she had effected such a cure that she’d scampered off to live 
a  normal twenty-one year-old’s life, and forgot all about me and Pastor Melo 
and  Simeon Toko. Shortly I got a reply: 

“I am so sorry for my absence. I have broken my leg and ankle so badly I 
  won’t be on it for 4-6 months if I am lucky. So needless to say I haven’t had a 
  chance to read anything but the inscriptions my mother and 
I have both 
  absolutely loved. I am having the worst evening I have had in ages and just 
want  the hell out of my house but don’t have the freedom to go anywhere at all 
for  the next 4 months.” 
No change in the brain ailment, either.  
Not 
good  news.  

Wars and rumours of war
The philosophical questions of science and religion are the same: who are we, 
  what is life, and where does it all come from?  These are wearying questions in 
  some time periods, and highly energizing in others. They become most important 
  when life and happiness seem most impossible.  

In Angola, where 250,000 Tokoists were claimed to have gathered in Luanda in 
  celebration of Simeon Toko’s 1949 convocation of the Holy Spirit last July, war 
  continues. The atrocities Simeon Toko’s supernatural story symbolizes continue. 
  

At this writing, the United States government is bombing a defenseless 
  Afghanistan with its high tech air force in a “crusade” against presumed 
Islamic  terrorists — and whatever innocent civilians happen to be in the way. 
Even so,  America’s Angolan Ambassador, Christopher Dell, claims that the 
decades old  Angolan conflict “is making increasingly less sense.”  

Diamonds and oil make Angola potentially the richest country in Africa. 
  Angola supplies 13% of U.S. oil needs. An estimated $1 million in rough 
diamonds  are smuggled out of Angola daily to help support warring activity, 
which has  indiscriminately killed at least .5 million and displaced over 4 
million  poverty-stricken people since 1975. Despite this behavior, the Luandan 
  government and official Angolan editorials seem to hope for American planes to 
  come bomb their own rebels, increasing the agony.  

So, for many, life and happiness seem impossible in present day Angola.  

Churches remain deeply involved in this conflict. Bishop Francisco de Mata 
  Mourisca, the head of the Angolan Catholic peace movement, sees great 
  contradictions in the warring factions claiming to wish peace (The Daily Trust 
  [Abuja] October 1, 2001). Catholic Bishops are being awarded prestigious peace 
  prizes for their efforts.  

Elsewhere, a Catholic monk named Brother Juno of Jesus wrote an allegedly 
  true story, published in June 2001 (http://www.crc-internet.org/june1.htm). In 
  it he characterized African Christians as “baptized negroes,” and warned that 
  the rest were “pagans,” given to “laziness and ferocity.” He wrote that a 
  missionary named Father Lazzaro de Sacerdo was martyred by Tokoists. “Filled 
  with fury and under the influence of alcohol,” they tied this Catholic 
  missionary to a stake and danced around him with machetes, cutting him into 
  little chunks in a display of wanton savagery.  

Brother Juno claims that the true third secret of Fatima refers to the the 
  alleged dismemberment of a saintly Catholic missionary by drunken “baptized 
  negroes” who had turned to communism and Simeon Toko.  

As we know, the Tokoists contend the true Third Secret of Fatima refers to 
  the return of Christ, whom they say is Simeon Toko. The Church Toko founded is 
  called The Church of Jesus Christ in the World. Members aren’t allowed to drink 
  or smoke or engage in extramarital sex. Polygamy is also forbidden. They are 
  pacifists, and certainly aren’t communists, as Toko himself did not approve of 
  the “godlessness” of communism. The Tokoists’ main activity is to set up church 
  choirs to sing inspired hymns, as Simeon Toko did, in 1949.  

(Pastor Melo brought me a recording of his own small tabernacle choir. They 
  sing quite beautifully. Some of the songs were written by Toko himself, and 
  others came to various members spontaneously through “inspiration of the Holy 
  Spirit.” All of them are songs of praise of Jesus Christ, or chronicles of the 
  story of Simeon Toko.) 

The Tokoists hope, if eagerly, that the Pope will at last reveal the true 
  Third Secret of Fatima, and they prophesy that Lucia dos Santos will not die 
  until the true secret is finally revealed. As Lucy is now 95, we may not have 
  long to wait to see the efficacy of this prophecy.  

Between the peace-prize gathering Catholic Bishops, the horrendous tale by 
  their own brother Juno of Jesus, and the Tokoists I have met personally, 
  something isn’t quite right here.  

Contradictory religious beliefs are a factor in the war of  “less and less 
  sense” in Angola.  Although it’s currently called a 26-year war, it’s so that 
  the spate of mass murder has been going on since the famous prophet Simon 
  Kimbangu was condemned to death by a Catholic priest, heading a military 
  tribunal, in 1921.  

The Catholic Church is a “respected social force” in Angola. It is the 
  dominant religion in a country where religion is subject to government 
  approval.  Perusing almanacs, one finds that Angola is claimed to be as high as 
  ninety-seven percent Catholic.  This unlikely figure is put down to about 70 
  percent in other almanacs. The Kimbanguist Christian church, which was finally 
  approved by the government after members agreed to stop their un-Vaticanly 
  celebrations of dancing and singing according to inspirations from the Holy 
  Spirit, is said to number at about 7 million. It is difficult to determine how 
  many Tokoists there are. As one Nexus correspondent who had lived in Angola 20 
  years wrote, “there could be lots of them and the police would be keeping it a 
  secret.”  

What could compel the psychological and political influence of the Vatican 
  away so well as the return of Christ Himself? “Give me back my heart,” Simeon 
  Toko-Christ demanded of the European doctors, who cut it out of his chest for 
  themselves. True or false, Simeon Toko’s life represents the tribulations of 
  Africa at the hands of Western culture and economics.  

I’m Crazy, You’re Crazy, Everyone Else is Crazier
I asked three psychologists what they thought of all this. One, a specialist 
  in teen drug abuse in Vermont, copped out with a “good for them!” The next, 
from  Berkeley, California, snubbed the whole idea, writing “I couldn’t care 
less if  Jesus Christ were walking the planet today. It is the Christ that lives 
in your  heart that matters.” A native European, he opined that the claims of 
persecution  of African natives were “self-serving.”  

Dr.  Jan Merta is a multi-talented Canadian psychologist who has been 
  investigating various paranormal phenomena for many years. He is of the opinion 
  that an extraordinary claims call for an extraordinary proof.  

I asked Dr. Merta if there is such a thing as mass schizophrenia. It is more 
  or less common amateur’s knowledge that an individual who has, for example, 
been  grossly mistreated in childhood, can develop multiple or “split” 
personalities;  some schizophrenic “alter-egoes” can seem to be of the order of 
a superhero —  representing, perhaps, the sense of power that was beaten out of 
the individual  by cruel parents. He replied: 

“So far all the evidence presented seems to be hearsay. Given the 
  fact that supposedly multitudes of people saw Simeon Toko’s manifestations, and 
  since thousands must be still living, sworn testimonials from a large number of 
  first-hand witnesses would go far in supporting these extraordinary claims. 
  However, certain types of mass hysteria, or on an individual basis in some 
  cases, even schizophrenia could not be ruled out. For me, for now, the case is 
  in the open.” 
What is most easily verified is that for 80 years, the peoples of central 
  Africa have been battered by persecutions of all kinds from foreign influences, 
  as well as among themselves. 

I proposed a scenario to Dr. Merta which I had learned from the books by Jane 
  Roberts, usually referred to as the Seth material. This excerpt is from THE WAY 
  TOWARD HEALTH: 

“One of the most rare and extraordinary developments that can occur 
  in schizophrenic behavior is the construction of a seeming superbeing of 
  remarkable power — one who is able to convince other people of his divinity. 

“Most such instances historically have involved males, who claim to have the 
  powers of clairvoyance, prophecy, and omnipotence.  Obviously, then, the 
  affected individual was thought to be speaking for God when he gave orders or 
  directives. We are dealing with “god-making” or “religionmaking” — whichever 
  you prefer. 
“In almost all such instances, discipline is taught to 
believers  through the inducement of fear.  Put very loosely, the dogma says 
that you must  love God or he will destroy you. The most unbelievable aspects of 
such dogma  should, it seems, make them very easy to see through.  In many 
cases, however,  the more preposterous the legends or dogmas, the more 
acceptable they become.   In some strange fashion followers believe such stories 
to be true because they  are not true.  The inceptions of almost all religions 
have been involved one way  or another with these schizophrenic episodes.” 

(THE WAY TOWARD HEALTH, p. 306, copyright 1997, Robert F. Butts, Amber-Allen 
  Publishing) 
Whether Horus, Mithra, Krishna, Christ, or Simeon Toko existed (the various 
  photographs and documents of Tio notwithstanding), they were men around whom 
  legends grew of unrealistic superpowers. They appeared during times of 
  tremendous social and political stress, built into their legends.  

Christianity still spreads fear with the threat of eternal punishment even 
  for seemingly small misdeeds. Devout Catholics are still held up to the “ideal” 
  of martyrdom (“All Christians must undergo a degree of martyrdom,” writes 
  Brother Juno de Jesus). Tokoist vates — the church prophets, speaking for 
  Simeon Toko — have warned of deadly supernatural consequences to its erring 
  members, but that’s another story, for another time.  

Few who study it would deny that the times are ripe for a Messiah. There seem 
  to be many candidates, from the small-time religious psychotic Jim Jones, to 
the  rafts of Hindu gurus from India, to the mysterious Maitreya of theosophical 
  foretelling, said to be now living in secret in London.  

Simeon Toko is the first among this raft of candidates to stand up to 
  meticulous interpretations of biblical prophecy. Even the famous “like 
lightning  from east to west” line, thought to mean that Christ appears somehow 
in a  perpetual abstract, is covered by the Tokoists: the appearance of the 
Virgin at  Fatima was preceded by lightning, flashing east to west every time. 
She was  announcing his birth, which occurred 9 months after her initial 
appearance. Who  is he, really? 

Historically, there is no doubt that there have been many Christs — that is, 
  great speakers around whom legends and civilizations have formed, with vast 
  schools and fashions of thinking and expression. Do they “appear” only when 
  mankind begins to go dangerously crazy?  When men become most prone to forcing 
  each other into ideologies? When the subjective value of “meaning” itself is 
  overriden by rule of law and seeming practical necessity?  

What has subjective meaning in life can not be entirely detailed in any holy 
  book of any size. We learn from history that Christs or Messiahs or Avatars, 
  despite their once-and-for-all “eternal” messages, do grow old and die, in a 
  sense, as their words and the stories of their dramas no longer capture the 
  imaginations of the peoples they intended to unite.  

No one who has the unqualified experience of it can deny the existence of 
  telepathy, or of spontaneous bodily healing, or of seemingly miraculous 
  “coincidences” of events which seemed to solve otherwise unsolvable problems. 
  The empirical methods of science are of little use in “proving” such events; 
the  more “scientismists” poo-poo it, the more the credibility of institutional 
  science erodes. The more religious institutions rely on materialistic 
scientific  data for its rationalizations, and sheer social motivation for its 
activities,  the more it, too, erodes. People simply move away from it.  

The universe each individual perceives does not come through microscopes or 
  telescopes or imaginings based on dried-out externalized dogma. There is always 
  a forced quality to the expressions of those who attempt to believe “the 
Truth,”  at the expense of the spontaneous sense of individual being. Yet 
mankind seems  to have a built-in need to believe things in common, while at the 
same time  experiencing a subjective sense of individual uniqueness to each 
moment.  

Perhaps, then, a hero appears periodically on demand for all, who seems to 
contain in full form the same potentials a human being senses within himself to 
whatever degree, with no other accoutrement than his own flesh through 
which  these potentials may play. In any case, this story is far from over.  

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3 Responses to The Emergence of African Avatars and the Secret of Fatima by Tom Dark

  1. M.H. Lenselink says:

    Thanks. This is great news and sse foreward to the next good writing’s. Greatings martin

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