I recently listened to a man named Howard Storm’s account of his near-death experience. In 1985 he was dying, left his body, and ended up encountering Jesus. He and Jesus traveled up toward a light that he understood to be God, but he didn’t feel worthy. So they stopped halfway and were joined by others who were there to persuade him that it was OK to move forward. They also initiated a review of his life. Here is part of what he said:
It was their record of my life, not my record of my life…their selected record. And what they were showing me was how I had interacted with other people. After a while it became very evident that that’s all they were interested in—was how I had interacted with other people. And to put it in a word: compassion. They had only one criteria for evaluating my life, and that was whether I had been compassionate or not compassionate towards other people.
You may ask what this has to do with the Course, but the early dictation of the Course actually contained the concept of what it called “the Record.” In seven passages that mention the Record, the following picture emerges: Helen’s dream “The Recorder,” about an old man who wrote down every single one of our deeds, was “remarkably accurate in some ways.” The record is not stored in our own unconscious; it is stored outside the individual and contains things not really of concern to the individual. It is perfectly accurate. We are born into this life in order to improve our record. We are afraid of what is in our record, and that is why we sacrifice, in an attempt to pay off our debts. The Record seems especially designed to record our miracles. It records the effects of our miracles on everyone touched by them in any way, including people we may never meet and including ourselves. When we perform a miracle for another, it introduces a correction into the records of each of us, both into the past record and the future record. This is apparently a reference to wiping mistakes off our record. This correction or wiping away process seems to proceed until, in the end, it seems, only miracles and the total achievement of our goal remain on our record.
This idea that all my thoughts, word, and deeds are being recorded has had a real impact on me, especially the notion that there is only one concern: how I have interacted with others. Howard Storm said “compassion,” but from a Course standpoint we could say “forgiveness.” Or, if you go with the flavor of those early references to the Record, have we given miracles or have we given hurt?
As I’ve been reflecting on this, I think the attitude with which I go through life is that I can choose when the recorder is turned on. Most of the time it’s not really fair that it be on. I’m not really ready in this situation. I’m not at my best. Given the difficulties I face, I really shouldn’t be held accountable in this instance or that instance. Let’s turn the camera off for now, OK?
This notion of the Record, however, is giving me a very different picture. That picture is that I am always on stage, always on the clock, all instances apply. And that must mean that in each moment I fully have the ability to choose forgiveness, compassion, miracles. There really are no excuses. There are no exceptions. No time outs for not being ready or at my best. Each moment is there only as a chance to choose love, and which choice I make is being recorded. Nothing else is really going on. All those other things that seem to make it impossible to choose love don’t. All those things that seem to make this particular situation not apply cannot change its actual simple content.
It doesn’t matter who I’m with—this still applies. It doesn’t matter how trivial the circumstances. It doesn’t matter how difficult the circumstances. It doesn’t matter what other non-interpersonal concerns are facing me. All that matters is that I choose love with this person, right now.
Now, we can get really afraid of the Record, and Jesus mentions “fear of the Records.” That, too, however, seems like a distraction from the task at hand. And if we face that task, and use each moment to give miracles, then our record gets cleaner and cleaner and cleaner, until it is just a trail of light.
