(As Channeled by Chico Xavier)
This blog article presents the first four succinct chapters of The Astral City (Nosso Lar, 1944; English translation of the 25th Portuguese edition [PDF]) by André Luiz in Spirit through Francisco Cândido Xavier (1910-2002), an automatic writing medium. More than 400 books by Xavier were published during his lifetime. The books were channeled despite Xavier having suffered from poor eyesight throughout most of his life, being practically blind in one eye.
S. J. Haddad’s 1986 introduction to the first English edition of Nosso Lar includes the following.
It has been repeatedly confirmed by reliable messages that the etherical replicas of the physical world are a common event in the next plane of existence. Indeed, the similarities of the two worlds are at times so confusing to the newly departed that the spirit mistakes them for material life, often ignoring the fact that death has occurred and that he has lost his physical body. Bearing in mind these and other basic principles of transition expounded by The Astral City we begin to conceive of a hereafter that is within the realm of Nature, a realm equally ruled by just laws of cause and effect. The environment André Luiz describes in this book apparently belongs to the category of an etheric advanced type of Earth life where spirits dwell while in preparation for higher, more imponderable worlds or for the return to another experience in the flesh.
The lay reader may at this point be asking about André Luiz and his relation to Francisco Cândido Xavier. In most mediumnistic works, at least two entities are involved: the medium and the communicating discarnate entity. In the present case, the medium is Xavier and the spirit author André Luiz, which is a pen name the spirit chose in order to disguise his former identity on Earth for reasons explained elsewhere in the book. The only available information about the identity of this spirit is that he was a fairly well known physician who lived in the early part of this century in Rio de Janeiro . . . André Luiz has transmitted to the medium Xavier, mainly through automatic writing, other books as relevant and revealing as The Astral City . . .
The account begins with a description of a transition from Earth life to the 'lower realms' of a spiritual dimension or 'sphere' of existence. Sentiments of the 'spirit doctor' correlate with channeled testimonials (example) yet these declarations should be considered on an individual basis that doesn't exclude the diversity of physical causal factors commonly known to us dealing with the circumstances of existence in the material world. Previous articles about the Chico Xavier automatic writing channeling case chronology and this particular book are "Chico Xavier: Medium of the Century by Guy Lyon Playfair", "Brazilian Channelers of 'The God Force'" and "Channeled Reincarnation Scenarios".
This photo shows Chico Xavier during one of his public automatic writing demonstrations. Below is shown the original book cover of Nosso Lar.
Chapter 1 IN THE LOWER ZONES
I was under the impression that I had lost all notion of time and space.
I was convinced that I no longer belonged to the world of the living, yet I continued to inhale deep breaths of air.
Since when had I become the puppet of irresistible forces? I could not say. I felt like a prisoner, trapped in the dark cage of horror. With my hair on end, my heart thumping uncontrollably, a prey to terrible fear, many times I shouted like a raving lunatic. I begged for mercy and clamored against the bitter despondency which had take hold of my spirit. But my cries fell only on silence; or were answered by lamenting voices still more moving than my own. At other times, sinister roars of laughter rent the stillness, as if some unknown companion must be close by me, a prisoner of insanity. Diabolical forms, ghastly faces, bestial countenances crossed my way from time to time, increasing my panic. The scenery, when it was not pitch dark, was bathed in a lurid light, as if shrouded in a thick fog warmed by the sun's rays.
Thus I proceeded on that strange journey. To what end? Who could say? I only knew that I kept fleeing. Fright drove me on blindly . . . Where were my home, my wife and children? I had lost all sense of direction. The fear of the unknown and my dread of darkness had annulled all my powers of reasoning from the very moment I had broken free of my physical body in the grave.
My conscience tormented me. I would have preferred the total absence of reason, or nonexistence. Copious tears ran constantly down my cheeks, and only rarely was I blessed with a few minutes of sleep. What rest I had was often interrupted as monstrous beings awoke me and mocked me, and I was obliged to go on fleeing.
I saw now that I was on a different plane of life, which rose from the emanations of the Earth. But it was too late. Anguish weighed heavily on my mind, and when I started making plans for action, numerous incidents would lead me on to bewildering avenues of thought. Never had the religious question loomed so large before my eyes. Principles, purely political, philosophical and scientific, now seemed to me of secondary importance to human life. Although they were valuable acquisitions on Earth, I had to admit that mankind was not made of transitory generations, but of immortal Spirits on their ascension to a glorious destination. I was beginning to realize the existence of one thing that stands above all that is material or intellectual: Faith – a divine manifestation to man. Such an analysis, however, came too late. It is true that I was familiar with the Old Testament and had often read through the Gospels. But I was forced to recognize that I had never searched the sacred writings with the light of my heart. I had embraced the interpretation of writers who were not inclined to sentiments and conscience, and who were, at times, even in open disagreement with the fundamental truths. On other occasions, I had taken an ecclesiastical point of view, entering voluntarily into a circle of contradictions.
In truth, I did not believe that I was a criminal in my life, though my philosophy of living for the immediate present had absorbed me fully. My earthly life, now transformed by death, had been no different from the life of so many others.
Born of perhaps excessively generous parents, I had graduated from the University without much effort, and shared the dissipation and vices of the youth of my time. Later, when I married and started a family, I was blessed with children, gained a stable and lucrative position, and was spared all financial worries. Yet on self-examination I feel deeply that I had wasted time and I now hear the silent pangs of my conscience. I had lived on Earth, enjoyed its benefits, reaped the good things of life, and yet never contributed anything towards the repayment of my heavy debt. I had completely ignored my parents' generosity and sacrifices, just as I had ignored those of my wife and children. I had selfishly kept my family only to myself. I had been given a happy home, and had closed my doors to those seeking help. I had delighted in the joys of my family circle, yet never shared that precious gift with my greater human family. I had neglected to undertake even the most elementary duties of fraternal solidarity.
Now that my life was over I was like a hothouse plant, unable to withstand the weather of eternal realities. I had not cultivated the divine seeds the Father of Life had sown in my soul. They were choked by the weeds of my insatiable desire for comfort and enjoyment. I had not trained my faculties for this new life. It was only right, then, that I should enter it like a cripple, thrown into the infinite river of eternity, unable to swim, or like a wretched beggar at the end of his strength, wandering about in the middle of a stormy desert.
Oh, dear friends on Earth! How many of you may still avoid the bitter road of sorrow by cultivating the inner fields of your heart. Light up your lamp before crossing the threshold of the shadows. Search for Truth, lest the truth find you unprepared. Sweat and toil now, lest you weep afterwards.
Chapter 2 CLARENCE
Suicidal criminal! Infamous wretch! I heard insults from all directions. But where were they coming from? At times I caught glimpses of them as they slipped in and out of the darkness. Through my despair, mustering all my strength, I threw myself against them. In vain I beat the air in my show of rage. I heard laughter as they vanished again into the shadows.
Whom could I turn to for help? I was tortured by hunger and parched with thirst. The demands of my physical existence on Earth continued here: my beard kept growing, my garments were beginning to show the signs of my struggles. Yet the most painful part of my trial was not the pitiful abandon in which I found myself, but the incessant attacks of the evil forces which surrounded me in the darkness. I was unnerved and utterly unable to coordinate my situation, to weigh its causes and establish new currents of thought. But those accusing voices bewildered me beyond my imagination.
"What are you seeking, you miserable fool? Where are you going, suicidal wretch?" Such accusations, ceaselessly repeated, threw my mind into absolute confusion. I might well be miserable, but suicidal? Never! Those charges were wrong, as far as I could see. I had left my body most unwillingly, after a desperate struggle with death. I could still hear the last medical diagnosis at the hospital. I remembered clearly the efficient care and the painful dressings during those weary days that followed my intestinal operation. The recollection of the closing scenes of my earthly days was so vivid that I could even feel the touch of the thermometer and the disagreeable prick of the hypodermic needle. Finally, my last recollection before my great sleep: my wife, still young, and my three children gazing at me in anguish at the prospect of eternal separation. Then, afterwards, my awakening to dreary and damp surroundings, to a never-ending nightmare flight.
Why was I being accused of suicide when I had been forced to give up my hope, my family and all that I held dear?
Even the strongest man must come to the end of his emotional powers of resistance. So it was with me. Firm and resolute at the start, I gradually began to fall into long lapses of depression, and in my total ignorance of the fate in store for me, my usual fortitude yielded to despondency. More and more frequently tears welled in my eyes, long pent-up in heavy heart.
To whom could I appeal? With all of the sophisticated intellectual culture I had brought from the world, I could do nothing to alter my present situation. Before the Infinite, my knowledge was like a tiny soap bubble, blown about by the impetuous winds of the transformation. Surely I was not out of my senses! I did not feel different. I felt that my conscience was alert and that I was essentially the same man with the same feelings and culture as before. My physiological needs continued unchanged. A gnawing hunger preyed on my every fiber; yet in my ever-increasing weakness I never reached the point of complete exhaustion. Now and then I came across some wild herbs growing along mere trickles of water.
I devoured the unfamiliar leaves and drank the water avidly. I could stop only a few seconds at a time, for those irresistible forces were ever spurring me on. Oftentimes I tasted the mud by the roadside, recalling with burning tears the daily bread of olden days. Frequently I was obliged to hide from enormous herds of monstrous beings which trampled past me like a band of insatiable beasts. Those were blood-curdling sights! When my despair had almost reached its climax, it began to dawn on me that somewhere a Creator of Life must exist. The thought seemed to comfort me. I, who in the world had hated all religious creeds, was now feeling the need for spiritual consolation. As a physician who prided himself on his ultra-modern principles of skepticism, so much in vogue in my time, I had to admit I was a perfect failure. Gone was all the self-importance which had seemed so real to my eyes. I saw now that I had to change my mental attitude.
When at last I came to the end of my strength and lay helpless in the mire, unable to rise, I implored that Creator of All Things to take pity on me and come to my aid in my desperable plight.
How long did my pleading last? How may hours did I spend praying like a frightened child? It was impossible to say. I only knew that copious tears ran down my cheeks and my whole being seemed to merge into one anguished plea. Had I been utterly abandoned? Was I not also a child of God, although in the whirl of earthly vanities I had never given a thought to His divine works? I knew the Eternal Father would surely forgive me. Did He not extend His loving care to the birds of the air and flowers of the field?
Ah, one must suffer a great deal in order to understand the mysterious beauty of prayer. One must know remorse, humiliation and utter misery to fully appreciate the sublime sweetness of Hope! It was at that moment that the dense mist all around cleared away, and a person came forward. An envoy from Heaven! He was a fatherly old man, who bent over me and gazed intently into my face with his large, clear eyes. With a benevolent smile he said to me:
"Courage, my son! The Lord has not forsaken you." Heartfelt tears seemed to flood my very soul. I tried to express my grateful relief, to thank him for the consolation he had brought, yet I only had the strength to ask: "Who are you, generous messenger of God?"
My unexpected benefactor smiled kindly and replied: "My name is Clarence. I am only a brother."
And, noticing my exhaustion, he added: "You must keep quiet and calm. It is necessary for you to rest to restore your strength."
Then we called two persons who were waiting attentively, and ordered: "Let us provide our friend with first aid."
They spread a white sheet on the ground and, using it as an emergency stretcher, prepared to transport me. They lifted me gently. Then Clarence spoke to his assistants: "Let us start without delay. I must reach the Astral City as soon as possible."
Chapter 3 COLLECTIVE PRAYER
As we advanced, I saw from my stretcher the pleasant surroundings which slowly unfolded to my view. Clarence, leaning on a staff made of some luminous substance, stopped before a heavy gate built into a great wall which was covered with a flowery vine. He touched a certain spot in the wall, the gate opened wide, and we entered in a silent procession.
A warm glow bathed everything there. The graceful play of lights in the distance reminded me of a beautiful sunset in springtime. As we proceeded, I saw before me charming buildings and beautiful gardens. At a sign from Clarence my stretcher was laid down and in front of us there stood an entrance to a great white building similar to an earthly hospital. Two young men in white tunics ran eagerly to my stretcher, moved me into an emergency bed, and carried me in. Before he left, I heard Clarence say: "Take him to the pavilion to the right. I am expected elsewhere now, but I will come to see him in the morning." I gave that generous old man a parting smile of gratitude as I was taken away to a large, pleasant, richly furnished room and laid on a comfortable bed.
My heart was overflowing with gratitude towards my kind attendants. I tried to address them but only managed to ask: "Friends, I beg you, what is this new world I find myself in? From what star does this bright invigorating light emanate?" One of them laid a tender hand on my forehead as if I were an old friend, and explained: "We are located in the spiritual spheres close to the Earth, and the Sun that is shining on us at this moment is the same one that warmed you on Earth. However, our visual perception is far keener here. We can see that the star the Lord lighted to guide our activities is far more beautiful than we ever realized while on Earth. Our Sun is a divine source of life which has its light's source in the Creator of All Things."
I felt a profound sense of veneration and awe as I gazed at the soft light streaming through my window. I realized that on Earth I had never looked up at the Sun and raised my thoughts to the One, in His infinite mercy, had given it to us to shine on our journey. I was like a blind man who, after living so long in darkness, is blessed with the ability to see the splendor of nature.
Just then they brought me some stimulating broth and a glass of cool water, refreshing water. The water seemed infused with some divine fluid* (*In Spiritist terminology, fluid and fluids designate a substance of magnetic nature that can be manipulated by both spiritual beings and man on Earth.) for just a little of it quickly produced a reviving effect. The food, whether a soothing nourishment or extraordinary medicine, revived me beyond my expectations; new energies pervaded my entire being and profound emotions stirred in the depths of my spirit. I ate, unaware of the experience which was soon to follow.
I had scarcely finished when heavenly music—soft waves of sound rising to higher spheres—floated into my room. That wonderful melody went straight to my heart. I looked to my attendant for some explanation, and he said: "This is the eventide service of the Astral City. Every department of this colony of service, dedicated to Christ, is attuned with the prayers at the Government House. Now stay here in peace. I will return as soon as the service is over." As he prepared to leave, I was suddenly filled with anxiety. "May I go with you?" I pleaded. "You are still weak," he explained, "but if you feel that you can . . ."
That music had filled me with renewed energies, yet I was barely able to rise from my bed. Aided by my attendant and with faltering steps I reached the enormous hall where a great assembly was praying in deep, silent concentration. The delicate garlands of flowers which hung from a brilliantly lit dome seemed to form a symbol of higher spirituality. I could hardly contain my feelings of overwhelming surprise. No one seemed to notice my presence — they all looked as if they were waiting for something. I had to work to hold back all of the questions forming in my mind. I quickly noticed in the background an intensely bright light reflected on a giant screen. By some process of advanced television, a marvelous temple appeared on the screen a moment later. In it was the image of a venerable old man, dressed in white, sitting in prayer. Around his head shone a halo of brilliant light. Slightly below him, seventy-two figures accompanied him in silent prayer. I was surprised to see that Clarence was among them.
I was unable to restrain my curiosity. I pulled at my attendant's arm, and he responded, whispering so softly his words resembled the murmuring of a light breeze: "Keep quiet. All the residences and institutions of the Astral City are praying, with the Governor through long distance projection of sound and light. Let us praise the invisible Heart of Heaven." He had scarcely finished speaking when the seventy-two figures began singing a sweet and exquisitely beautiful hymn. As I looked at Clarence, his countenance seemed to shine with an intense highlight. The celestial voices rose in melodious cadences, in a most beautiful hymn of gratitude. Mysterious vibrations of peace and joy floated in the atmosphere, and as the silvery notes died away, a wonderful heart, blue with golden rays* (*Note by the spiritual author: "A symbolic image created by the mental vibrations of the Colony.") became visible above us in the same distance. Soft music began, seeming to arise perhaps from distant spheres, and suddenly we were showered with beautiful blue flowers.
Although I could easily see them, I could not grasp those tiny flowers with my hands. On touching our foreheads they melted away, and at one touch of their fluidical petals I felt an extraordinary surge of energy, as if some soothing balm had been applied to my heart.
As soon as the impressive service was over I returned to the chamber, tenderly aided by my assistant. I was no longer the ailing patient of a few hours before. The first collective prayer I had attended at the Astral City had worked a radical change in me. An unexpected peace filled my soul for the first time in many years of suffering, and my heart, so long empty, was once again filled with hope.
Chapter 4 THE SPIRIT DOCTOR
I awoke the following day after a deep, refreshing sleep. A comforting light poured through my window, bathing everything in the room with radiance and filling my heart with hope. I felt like a new man, filled with renewed energy and the joy of living. Only one thing clouded my soul – I longed for my home and for my family so far away.
Numerous questions troubled my mind, but my feeling of relief was so great that it calmed my spirit and kept me from further contemplation. I wanted to get up and enjoy the beauty of my surroundings but I could not. I realized that without the magnetic cooperation of my attendant I would not be able to leave my bed.
I had scarcely gotten over the many experiences when the door opened and Clarence entered, accompanied by a friendly stranger. They greeted me cordially, wishing me peace. My rescuer from the Lower Zones* (*Lower Zones are the shadowy regions where excessively self-centered souls or those with a guilty ridden conscience find themselves after death. [Translator's note.]) asked about my general health, and my attendant quickly came to inform him.
Clarence smiled and introduced his companion, brother Henry de Luna of the medical staff of the spiritual colony. Brother Henry was dressed in white and his face radiated benevolence. He examined me at length, then smiled and spoke:
"It is a pity that you've come here by way of suicide."
Clarence remained calm but I felt a surge of revolt within me. Suicide? I remembered the accusations of those perverse beings in the Lower Zones. Even though I was grateful to my benefactors, I couldn't accept this accusation.
"I believe you are mistaken," I said, distressed, "my departure from the world had other causes. I fought over forty days trying to overcome death. I suffered through two serious operations because of an intestinal occlusion."
"Quite so," the doctor continued, calm and perfectly composed, "but the occlusion was the result of very serious causes. Perhaps you haven't thought it over enough. The spirit body presents within it a complete history of the actions practiced on Earth."
Leaning over me, he went on, pointing to different parts of my body. "Let's look at the intestinal zone," he said, "the occlusion was due to cancerous elements, which in turn arose from some indiscretions of yours, in which you contracted syphilis. The disease might not have assumed such grave characteristics had your mental attitudes been firmly based on the principles of moderation and brotherly love. Instead, you chose a dark, exasperating way of life which attracted destructive vibrations from those around you. You never imagined that anger attracts negative forces, did you? Your lack of self-control and your thoughtlessness in dealing with others, whom you so often unthinkingly offended, frequently left you under the influence of sickly and inferior beings. These circumstances greatly aggravated your physical state."
After a long pause, in which he went on examining me attentively, he continued: "Have you observed, my friend, that your liver was damaged through your action? That your kidneys were also mistreated in your reckless disregard for the divine gift of physical existence?"
I felt deeply disappointed, but the doctor, seemingly unaware of my anguish, continued to clarify: "The bodily organs possess incalculable reserves in accordance with the Lord's designs. You, my friend, evaded many excellent opportunities and wasted the precious blessing of physical existence. The long term assignment which you had been given by those of greater spiritual accomplishment was reduced to half-hearted attempts at work which you never completed. Your entire gastronomical system was destroyed as a direct result of your 'harmless' excesses in food and drink, and your essential energies were devoured by the syphilis you contracted through still other excesses. As we see, the diagnosis is incontestable."
I thought about problems of human life, and reflected on the many opportunities I had lost. In my life on Earth I had own many masks, tailoring them to the situation at hand. I had never imagined I would be asked to account for those seemingly unimportant episodes. I had at that time conceived of human error according to human laws — everything not prohibited by those laws was natural and acceptable. Here, however, I found another system of judging those errors. I was not confronted by stern judges pronouncing harsh verdicts, or facing torture or the infernal abyss. Instead, smiling benefactors commented on my weaknesses as if they were dealing with a wayward child. Their superior compassion struck a blow to my human pride. If only I had been tormented by diabolic beings I would have found my failure less bitter. Clarence's sympathetic kindness, the doctor's warm tone and the attendant's good-natured patience all served to turn my pride to shame. I covered my face with my hands and sobbed brokenheartedly, realizing that Henry de Luna's conclusions were irrefutable. I admitted the full extent of my faults. Only one torturing truth now remained before me: I had truly committed suicide. I had wasted the precious opportunity of human life, and was nothing more than a castaway rescued by charity.
It was then that Clarence, stroking my hair in a fatherly manner, spoke: "Stop lamenting, my son. I went in search of you in answer to the intercessions of those who love you in the higher spheres. Your tears will grieve their hearts. Surely you would rather show your gratitude by remaining calm during the examination of your faults, wouldn't you? True, your diagnosis points clearly to suicide, but I assure you that hundreds of others leave the Earth daily in exactly the same way you did. Therefore, still your heart. Use the treasure of repentance well; keep the blessing of remorse in your soul, however late it has arrived. Don't forget that worrying doesn't solve our problems. Put your trust in the Lord and in our brotherly devotion. Rest your troubled heart; for many of us have already gone the same way as you." At these generous words I rested my head against his shoulder and wept.
*
In these chapters channeled nearly eight decades ago, there are indications of the tremendous obstacles posed to one's self-development during Earth life in relation to cultural influences that today may be articulated as 'social consciousness,' 'corporate thinking,' 'military indoctrination,' and any or all immoral 'assumed imperatives' that fail to reflect metaphysical and spiritual values such as 'the golden rule.'
Other blog articles about the afterlife include "Researching the Afterlife", "'Mr. Johnson' Speaks from the Other Side", "Testimony of Light", "Life and the Afterlife Explained from the Other Side", "Lessons of 'The Seven'" and "Reminiscences of Andrew Jackson Davis".
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