"I can't believe I am doing this!"

Is the water level set by a higher power than yourself? If so, acknowledge that truth!

Who needs psychedelics for surreal twists and turns in your sense of reality when you have a spiritual war raging around you? On Wednesday of last week I did something I absolutely never imagined I would do, it being too bizarre to contemplate. I got immersed — in spirit, not only mind and body. The final trigger to me acting was writing up a prior immersion I witnessed, in advance of a seminar I delivered in London two days later on “Spiritual Exit From Law”. The run-up to that event was documented in previous articles Are you a spiritually alive Child of God? and Immersion into covenant as a Child of God.

This transition is the culmination of years of work and life experience: childhood cult victim, telecoms scientist, geopolitical activist, photographic artist, and now lowkey missionary. Each stage has resulted in spiritual awareness, growth, and confidence. The “aha!” moment has been to understand that sin is “deliberate opposition to divine will that results in us being put back under the law to reconcile our selfishness”. The consciousness we seek is to transcend the spirit of competition, so that peace can take hold outside of the law. As the final few parts of the puzzle came together, I was at last able to see why this immersion in living water was essential: it reframes freedom away from liberty to do as one pleases, and instead into what pleases all of creation.

Wednesday was a special day, being 11th September, and before then it didn’t feel right to me, as I was working out my last vestiges of religious spirits. Religion is the opposite of spirituality, since it divides us from the source of all that there is, focusing onto form and not substance. It is a manmade container, with an inside of idolatry, and an outside of heresy. The first rough cut content of the Friday seminar had clearly crossed the threshold level of intellectual coherence to explain why immersion was necessary (but not sufficient) to escape the inherent dilemma of order verses tyranny through law.

By “coincidence” a post in my X feed emphasised how great men don’t wait for total clarity to act; it is not possible, and we advance under uncertain conditions. I cannot tell you whether Jesus was man or a metaphor, and at this stage of my own journey it doesn't matter to me. The exact definition of Christ doesn't concern me either at present. Nor does pinning down the ineffable nature of Creator. Of concern to me is establishing an invariant: what is true regardless of man's beliefs. The content of my own heart is the bridge from the universal to the personal; my own relationship to life and death is signified through this rite of passage.

Immersion is an acknowledgement that we are spiritually dead until we “opt out” of the law and “come out of the amniotic waters”. At that point, we no longer need to hire the law to resolve clashes of self-will, as it is transcended. An extended (small c) church handles contention through conscience, and not rules, via community of faith. Well before we get to jury trials for crimes, we should offer the other cheek; approach the wrongdoer and rebuke them; bring a brother in faith as witness to the wrongdoing; or take the matter to the whole community. The punishment of exile is far more potent than prison; most people fear shunning and shaming more than incarceration and fines.

It was a rather impromptu decision to head off to the nearest body of natural water deep enough to host the event. Beforehand I read up on what it meant, based on collected Bible quotes assembled by friends, so I was clear on whether I had understood the meaning of it and knew what I was doing and why. I also had a nagging feeling that I could not teach it if I would not do it — if not on this day, when? How can I justify not doing it when I grasped the need and purpose? What does any further hesitation or delay say about me? Maybe it was a message from beyond, but I felt a deep knowing that the right time is NOW.

I put on my shorts, packed a towel, drove to the beach at Seaton Carew, around 40 mins away, with my significant other in tow. I could anticipate the looming chills of the North Sea in September, but this is a minor sacrifice and discomfort — almost trivial. Most of the living water on this planet is somewhat cold, after all. I picked the seaside (rather than river or lake) as the ocean is connected to all, hence it doesn't matter which part you dampen yourself in. There were offshore wind turbines in the background, a muted rainbow in the foreground, and vigorous storm clouds behind. This particular swimming spot is popular with hardy northern locals.

As we approached the beach in a blustery wind it was clear that the surf was up! I was a bit worried about the breakers — I can swim OK, just I have no local knowledge of tidal hazards. My exact words were “the last thing I need is a test of faith right now”, with the immediate realisation that overcoming that fear of the unknown was the whole point of it. I made no prayers, quickly stripped off my t-shirt, cast off my sandals, and headed on in. The air was plenty warm enough, but the sea was as bracing as expected. My thought as the coolness surrounded me was that if this sensory blast is the price of ending the suffering of the children, then it is a remarkably small one.

As I waded in, the whole sea was in front of me to the horizon, with no large commercial ships traversing from Teeside for once. The first wave splashed up me: chilly! But not deep enough to immerse. The second wave meant I could technically “dunk”, but it would have been a bit of a pathetic sight. With the third wave it was just deep enough, so I pinched my nose, squished my eyes, and plunged under. That submerged moment is then suspended in time, as you are surrounded by the noisy motion of the sea, with eyes closed. I burst back upwards into the air with a bit of a roar and a savoury salt taste on my lips.

I once dived on the Great Barrier Reef where the water was 25C, and it was a bit nippy for my taste. Childhood holidays in Barbados (through airline staff free flights I hasten to add) delivered a rather more amenable temperature of 30C. The North Sea at the end of summer is a reasonable 15C. While it is hardly an ice plunge, for this “autist” it is an unusual physical provocation, which makes it all the more noteworthy and memorable. The self-preservation instinct of the body core being activated is invigorating, and your whole being reacts to the environmental jolt. The flip side is you feel super warmed up after; quite a relief. I headed straight back to get dry and changed.

What does it mean? I don't now have a label, as I haven't joined a religion, and never will. I have acknowledged that I am neither a deity nor a saviour, which may generate a chortle in a few friends. It is a personal matter, yet comes with a public testimony, as that is how progress happens. It has to be a public act in a public place, as nobody can be excluded, unlike with a heated pool in a corporate chapel. The only “work” was for gravity to take me under; it is not a transformative act in itself, but a point of transition.

This choice to abandon self-will for divine will reflects changes I have made in my own life and behaviour. I am not evangelising or commending immersion to others; you make up your own mind, don’t follow me. Many will misunderstand and frame it in a “Churchian™” spirit, as it jars with their doctrines, and that is on them. Immersion is a last act in the world of self-will, so does represent the death of a persona, and the rising of a spiritually alive man. It ends the internal debate and prevarication over what I implicitly worship (life or death). I may fall short of my intention, but at least the intention is now clear.

There were a few other things I noticed in the context. While the sea is toll free, the parking most definitely is not. As well as the usual charges, I observed that the disabled no longer are gratis. This says something sad about who we have become.

There are also public toilets and changing rooms with a 30 pence entry fee via a digital payment card. You cannot get a bank account without the birth certificate and legal fiction identity. So right behind the ocean are modern Roman baths operating under maritime law. The price of a pee is not 30p, but your freedom. The aquatic contrast with immersion was not lost on me.

Right afterwards on the drive home there was extraordinary contrasting light, and a loud and lashing hailstorm. I simply felt at peace. It is the end to some long internal struggles, as it solidifies my own sense of purpose. Immersion is not a magic wand to automatically end all misdeeds, just acknowledgement that temptation also serves a purpose, and righteousness has no meaning without it. What has changed is that I am now free from the karmic burden of other people’s self-will, as long as I follow divine will; the consequences are on them alone. My own past is… in the past, too.

That is the only liberty worth having, and immersion is the only way to attain it. The only witnesses were God in the eternal, and my companion in the world.

Oh, and you in the virtual. Thanks for coming along.

🌊