Looking For A Miracle? It Could Happen!
By Cynthia Logan
Fillan, an Irishman who lived during the eighth century, had an incurable love for writing, which often drew him well into the depths of the night. When he entered the Monastery of Wexford, he was informed by superiors that the use of candles was not permitted after evening hours. Determined to continue his writing, he overcame this restriction by way of a miracle. When the curfew hour approached he simply held up his left hand, which shone like a candle. "Hence," writes Rodney Charles, author of Every Day A Miracle Happens, "Fillan wrote with his right hand, by the light given from his left."
Charles, a Vedic scholar who lectures internationally, is himself
no stranger to miracles. As a child, he had transcendent experiences
almost daily-experiences which he calls 'abstract.' "I felt
very expanded, as if my body had become very diffused and thin,
as if I was present in everything that existed. I felt huge, like
I was actually bigger than an entire school building, and I had
the sensation of being on a never-ending continuum of frictionless
motion-like oil flowing down forever." Though these experiences
included "very personal" interactions with angelic light
beings, Charles doesn't like sharing them, preferring to focus
on the "background" experience-the part that's still
there after the "flash." "I think," he muses,
"that the experiences are there to act as symbols for us
to perceive a greater reality-the experience itself shouldn't
overshadow someone's vision or spiritual quest." "Experiences,"
he continues, "have nothing to do with someone's state of
consciousness; it can be a fabulous mystical experience, rich
in fibre and color in every way, but it may be lacking in integration-the
person can turn around and cheat you. Consciousness is a new field
for all of us, and that's what fascinates me."
It was the mature, integrated quality demonstrated in the lives
of the saints ("they were always my heroes") that interested
Charles and drew him to the Vatican's Acta Sanctorum, where he
read documented accounts of miracle after miracle-everything from
levitation to the manifestation of food from thin air. He cites
many such miracles in his book, a daily inspirational tome which
is the culmination of thirteen years of research. Well received
both by New-Age and traditional Christian communities, Every Day
a Miracle Happens is becoming something of a bridge between them.
It has, however, had its share of critics, mostly from "fundamentalists
of various kinds." Some have reacted to the inclusion of
modern day miracles not yet approved from "on high"
("who am I to be canonizing people is, I assume, the rationale,"
he says). Others object to the narratives about native Americans;
still others accuse the author of being the Devil himself. "It
usually works to their detriment," notes Charles. "They
gather quite a crowd around a book signing table, and people buy
the book just to find out what all the hoopla is about."
Brought up a Lutheran, Charles was expelled from church for refusing
to cut his hair. At fourteen, he'd spent time every Saturday for
two years preparing to be confirmed. "I had my hair long
and the Minister told me I'd get it cut or I wouldn't be confirmed,"
he recalls. "When I mentioned that Jesus had long hair, he
yelled and screamed and-quite frankly, he made a complete fool
of himself." He told me never to come back, so I left and
figured I didn't need to come back."
Instead, he turned inward and, like thousands of other seekers,
found himself looking toward the wisdom of the East for spiritual
guidance. Crediting his exposure to Buckminster Fuller in the
'70's with inspiring his monkish aspirations, Charles "threw
away a Fullbright Scholarship" to attend The Academy for
the Science of Creative Intelligence in upstate New York. Under
the auspices of Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, the curriculum included
meditation and massage techniques, Ayurvedic medicine and yoga
therapy. Since it was an all-men's academy, the lifestyle was
monasterial, exactly what Charles was looking for.
The experience kindled his passion for the East, and he travelled
to India, where he studied Vedic Art, a discipline which serves
as a vehicle for the artist's spiritual development. "It's
absolutely incredible," raves Charles. "You have to
be an aspiring saint to be a Vedic artist; the goal is to become
enlightened through art. Everything is done with ritual and a
devotional attitude. Brushes are handmade and their acquisition
and construction are part of the ritual. A special trap is constructed
to ensnare a squirrel, whose tail holds the potential brush hairs.
After communicating to the squirrel the need for a small swatch,
the artist dips the tail into warm water and gently shaves a few
hairs, which are then singly inserted into peacock quills for
use in an extremely subtle technique which makes both color and
texture seem to appear, fulfill, disappear and reappear in a manner
as awesome as creation itself. Another fascinating technique involves
production of the saffron color which characterizes much of Indian
art. "Traditionally, it is obtained by feeding mango leaves
to cows for about ten days, collecting the urine, distilling out
the hue and mixing it with gum from the neem tree.
According to Charles, there are few such artists left and, other
than an early work by the late Joseph Campbell, no one other than
he has taken the time to travel to India, meet the artists and
document their tradition. "The genius of authentic Vedic
art," says Charles, "is that the artist is consciously
integrating his spiritual experience, working in the silence-not
just responding to a momentary inspiration. It is the skill of
handling consciousness itself that produces the masterpiece."
Charles sees the ancient Vedic teachings of India as a pervasive
influence worldwide. "Ayurvedic medicine, for example,"
he says, "underlies the Chinese medical system. I'm even
seeing it in the teachings of a Native American Shaman I'm studying
with. They have this concept of the three humors of the body,
just as they do in Ayurveda."
Now married to Vedic art co-worker Nandini Badhwar, Charles recently
became a father. "Birth," he says, is the greatest miracle
of all-it's beyond my comprehension. The number of natural forces
that have to come together to create an ear here, a fingernail
there- is absolutely astounding."
More astounding yet is the story of Saint Fursey of Ireland: "When
King Edfind discovered his daughter had married a Christian, he
was enraged and ordered her burned at the stake-he himself overseeing
the sentence. When she was led to the fire, the voice of an infant
suddenly sprang from her womb. With a loud voice and intelligible
words, the unborn prince declared that no flames would ever harm
his mother. The King was deeply shaken, but ordered the execution
to continue. When the fires were ignited, a torrential downpour
extinguished the flames, saturating the logs and everyone present.
Saint Fursey was canonized shortly after 648 A.D. and is celebrated
as the greatest spiritual visionary of Ireland.
Though some of the entries in his book are "probably overembellisments
by zealous devotees," Charles claims that "the vast
majority of them are unquestionable."
Considered an expert in the field of miracles and angelology,
Charles describes miracles as "simply laws of nature, not
yet discovered, that apply when the human spirit or consciousness
interacts with the spirit or consciousness of its creator-that
fundamental organizing power that keeps planets rotating within
their elliptical orbits, the same intelligence that keeps atoms
bombarding in exact predictable paths." Miracles, according
to him, are just extensions of our own human potential; those
who experience seeming miracles are tapping into that potential
in the same way musicians create symphonies in their minds or
mathematicians grasp concepts that are beyond the rest of us.
Charles has a theory that miracle workers have integrated their
nervous systems completely with the mind and, "since the
mind is unlimited, they are able to incorporate the miraculous,
which is outside the structure and limitations of the body."
Indeed, many of the accounts related in his book claim incorruptibility
of the body, such as that of Saint Catherine Laoure, whose undecayed
body may be seen today in the motherhouse chapel of the Sisters
of Charity in Paris, France.
The soft-spoken, forty-six year old Canadian, who looks like a
cross between Romeo and Saint Francis, feels that people are becoming
more receptive to the idea that miracles can truly happen. He
recalls sitting next to a man drinking beer at a sports event,
who asked what he did for a living. "Rather sheepishly, I
told him I was writing a book on miracles, expecting him to sort
of nod and turn to the person on the other side of him. Instead,
he said, 'Oh, yeah. I had a miracle happen to me.' Then he told
me about being in a car accident during which he saw and heard
an angelic being, who carried him through the broken window of
his car." Charles adamantly believes there is no one for
whom a miracle is out of reach. "If we believe otherwise,"
he says, "it is due to the illusion that simplicity and innocence
are lost."
Charles, who once spent two hours on his knees battling with the
concept of prayer (why, he wondered, should he pray if God already
knew what he wanted?) believes the innocence and openness of childhood
can be regained for adults through various techniques, including
fasting and prayer. His own diet is vegetarian and his spiritual
disciplines include daily yoga postures and transcendental meditation.
He doesn't think the current generation is in any more danger
of spiritual impoverishment than those living in simpler times.
"Negativity has always been with us," he says. "The
great spiritual teachers have said it will always be with us.
If the consciousness is stable, the soul will weed out the negativity
and take what's good."
This positive outlook extends into global affairs. Charles, who
has traveled around the world eight times lecturing on how the
mind and body function to accommodate supernormal phenomena, continues
to divide his time between Canada, India and the United States.
He feels "the angels are with us" and doesn't see doomsday
approaching. "I don't think the changes we're making will
be as dramatic as some have predicted," he says, thoughtfully.
"I think that once the shift occurs we're going to see some
highly technical societies with and without spiritual evolvement
and some highly evolved societies that have little technological
advancement, such as aboriginal communities, intermingled amongst
developed nations."
Evolution and development are topics about which Charles has definite
opinions. "Individuals don't evolve, populations do,"
he says, paraphrasing a concept from his high school biology textbook.
"As we refine ourselves, we become mutants of sorts; when
higher capabilities become more common, the population shifts
to accommodate the changes and we call it evolution."
Charles' work has evolved to include an art business in Fairfield,
Iowa, which he runs with his wife. They have co-authored The Land
of Love, Art and Genius, a book documenting the techniques of
Vedic art in the Indian desert. He is also collaborating with
author Anna Jordan on a book about flying saints, tentatively
titled, Lighter Than Air. Meanwhile, he continues to walk the
path of self-refinement, aspiring to become more like his beloved
heroes, developing the qualities and abilities they have demonstrated
throughout history. Though he sees everything as a miracle of
sorts, he's "pretty impressed" with saints who fly.
"It's been done, and I intend to do it," he says.