Long Live Abuna Yesehaq

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3 Visions

In the past two years before this trip to Jamaica, I had experienced two visions of Haile Selassie I in my dreams. This is not counting those visions that came upon me during meditation or from scripture reading, induced by plant medicines, rituals, music, or narratives. Just two natural visions in a dream, as the kind Joseph had interpreted.

In the first vision, His Imperial Majesty was in New York City in 1963, approaching the headquarters of the United Nations, and I was amongst the crowd to witness HIM enter the building, but not to see HIM speak. I stood across the street from the UN headquarters building. Both sides of the street were barricaded and secured by police, with large crowds crammed behind the barricades. In this dream, His Imperial Majesty singled me out from the crowd, walking over to look me directly in the eyes. He did not speak, but looked at me in a way as if to say, “You are worthy.”

In the second vision, I was speaking with His Majesty in his private residence, the old palace on Arat Kilo. This is a place I have visited in person when I was in Ethiopia in 2018 for the Feast of the Resurrection (at which time I was baptized). This is the place where His Imperial Majesty gifted his personal palace grounds to become a University, neighboring on the grounds of the national cathedral, Qidist Selassie. The former palace has now become a stark, sparse museum, but once was immensely lavish and royal, then a place of great learning and higher education. In the dream, I was telling His Imperial Majesty many stories about curious things--heights of Reasoning of Rastafari with Rastafari--marveling upon the triumph, the glory, the legacy of his own life, and of all the movements globally that have sprung forth from his inspiration. He told me to cease, "Stop this talk." And then he told me with actual English words that I could comprehend, “You do not know when you are going to die.”

Recently, after returning home from our journey to Jamaica, I received another dream vision of His Majesty. This time we were in a different palace, in a throne room thronging with people and decorated in vibrant colors. The room was filled with dreadlocks men and women of all sizes, shapes, colors, and nations. I stood across the room from a group of ancients and elders who were taking their turns to approach a microphone and give their testimony directly to the King. The microphone stand was to my left, while His Majesty sat enthroned to my right. The entire scene was very colorful, with the dreadlocks men enrobed in reds, golds, greens, blacks, whites, and various earth tones. That's all I got this time. I did not receive the direct attention, or an explicit message, from His Majesty. I was simply a witness.

To summarize my 3 visions:


• "You are worthy."
• "You never know the hour of your death."
• I am a witness.



And that brings me to today's blog entry and the next chapter of our journey in Jamaica. At this time I was a witness to the Rastas of the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church in Jamaica.

The Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church in Jamaica

How did this church get here? It all starts long ago in the days of the "Ethiopianist" movements of the 19th century. This was when diasporic Africans in the west were attempting to access Africa through a lens of western history and civilization. One of the places they found evidence of ancient African history and impact was in the Bible, and its many references to Ethiopia. These Ethiopianists were made up of black Christians, black Jews, and Masons from the Prince Hall Rite of Freemasonry. They studied the Bible, they studied the known history of Ethiopia (sparse as it was to westerners at this time), and they prophesied on their own future in Africa and in the west.

Meanwhile, far off in Ethiopia (also known at the time as Abyssinia), there was an actual Biblical ruler seated on the throne of King David. Around the turn of the 19th to 20th century this was Emperor Menelik II, and he and his church (the Ethiopian Orthodox, or "Tewahedo", Church) were known of in the west. In fact, the Haitians sent a delegate to him proposing to unite their nations--and all those in between--into one great empire ruled by the church and crown of Ethiopia, and administered by educated diasporic Africans.

In the 1920s, a Jamaican named Marcus Garvey became the visible leader of black people in the western hemisphere--as well as many subjugated Africans on the continent. An activist, entrepreneur, and publisher, Garvey was highly influential in the Americas, the Caribbean, and the continent. His speeches and writings were heavily shot-through with references to Ethiopia and the Ethiopian religion. His followers in the UNIA (United Negro Improvement Association) began their meetings with the singing of the "Ethiopian Anthem" and he made frequent reference to, "The God of Ethiopia, God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, the One God of All Ages."

With the coronation of Haile Selassie I as Emperor of Ethiopia in 1930, a new movement of so-called "Rastafarians" began. Street preachers such as Leonard Howell, Joseph Nathaniel Hibbert, Archibald Dunkley, and Robert Hinds began to exhort Jamaicans on the divinity of Haile Selassie I as the black man's God and King. Some of them went on to form agricultural communes, while others formed churches.

The history of the Rastafari movement is complex, but suffice it to say that throughout the storied career of Haile Selassie I, his followers in Jamaica (and other parts of the world) underwent their own trials, tribulations, developments, and advancements. Through organizations such as THE ETHIOPIAN WORLD FEDERATION, INC., some were able to repatriate to Africa beginning in the 1940s, gaining first-hand experience of the Ethiopian Church, of which Haile Selassie I was the head.

In 1966, when Haile Selassie I came to visit Jamaica, he was approached by certain Rastafari leaders (including Joseph Nathaniel Hibbert), who requested that he send bishops to Jamaica to establish the Ethiopian Orthodox Church there. Having already sent a bishop to New York to serve the Ethiopians and Garveyites in that city, he delegated this man--later known as Abuna Yesehaq--to establish the Church in Jamaica as well. In 1970, the mission to Jamaica began with the baptism of 3000 people in a single day.

During his reign as Emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie I funded the building of 1500 churches from his own wealth. He was responsible for organizing the conferences of church Fathers that saw the reunion of the Oriental Orthodox Churches, and set the groundwork for the unification of all Orthodox Churches. Therefore, he was granted the title "Defender of the Faith". His delegate in the west, Abuna Yesehaq, is considered "equal to the Apostles" for his personal founding of 70 churches in the western hemisphere and the baptism of 300,000 persons. Of those, by his own account, 50,000 were dreadlocked Rastafarians baptized between 1970-1980.

How did I get here?

I wasn't even born until 1982, but through the music of Bob Marley and other Reggae singers, I was inspired by Ras Tafari from a very young age. Maybe around 13 years old, I decided in my heart that this was my deepest faith. My brother and I had spoken about it in confidence, and we were both on the same page. We believed that the human being was the temple of God, and that belief necessitated certain responsibilities on our part, as well as a certain way to treat people. I have to admit, I did a pretty poor job of living up to it though, and was completely ignorant about actual Rastafari culture for a very long time.

One thing I knew for certain was that the words from Bob Marley's song "War" were the words of God. Just like the burning bush I'd read about, who spoke to Moses saying, "I am that I am", and Jesus Christ telling people that the greatest commandment was to, "love the Lord thy God above all else and love your neighbor as you love yourself", these words that said, "until the color of a man's skin is of no more significance than the color of his eyes," were holy. "And we Africans will fight, and we know we shall win, as we are confident in the victory of good over evil." I came to believe that Africa was the Paradise, or a heaven on earth where people lived the way we were intended to live by our creator and were good to each other.

Over the next decade or so, if I told anyone about this belief or secret identity of mine, I was sure to be mocked. The only people who seemed to understand what I was talking about were black Rasta people who I met in the city or in my travels. I didn't wear dreadlocks because I thought white hippy kids with dreadlocks were ridiculous. So, I didn't look the part I guess. I shaved my head every week and I listened to reggae, punk rock, and hip-hop. As a visible skinhead and a 'white' kid, most people just thought I was trolling them when I said I was Rasta. And I guess their disbelief rubbed off on me. I began to believe less and less in myself and less in others, and less in any meaning at all in anything.

The twin towers came down in 2001 and I lost my brother in 2003. These years were very difficult for me and I had a lot of struggles. I went through a major breakup in 2005, and even though I was successfully pursuing a film career and a Business degree (I'd picked my major, Entrepreneurship, based on the teachings of Marcus Garvey), my conduct became pretty out of control.

By the end of 2005, I found my own life quite unmanageable. On January 1st, 2006, after one particularly hectic night of alcohol, drugs, sex, and bringing a friend back from actual death (he stopped breathing and turned blue), I decided I had to make a change. This of course, is making a very long story short, but that's all I have time for right now.

I found myself sitting up at 3 in the morning reading online about Bob Marley, as much as I could about him. Why did he wear his hair in dreadlocks? What did he mean when he said things like, "Jah", "Rastafari", and "Zion"? I wanted to know more about him because I felt like he was the only hero I had left in this world, the only one whose words truly inspired me and whose honest lifestyle I could look up to. I found out that his dreadlocks were a sign of his Ivinity (inner divinity) and that his own inspiration was a man named Haile Selassie I. I decided to sign on.

From that day on, I let my hair grow. It was awkward, and I didn't tell anybody why, but I had a made a decision. I was going to part myself from society and friends and everyone and everything. I wasn't going to worry about approval anymore, but I was going to find out about God and about myself.

Within 13 months, I was in Africa. The story of how I got there is well-known to anyone who's read this blog. First I graduated college, lived in my truck, went to Thailand with a backpack, visited Laos, met Chelly, lived at the Tiger zoo in Sri Racha, went to Cambodia, and traveled across India. Then Chelly took me to Kenya.

In Kenya, my beliefs about Africa were confirmed. Flying in from Mumbai on Kenya Airways, I could already see that the light was brighter here, and the colors more vibrant. The evenly-spaced tufts of clouds rolled across the landscape assembled as the "hosts of heaven". When we landed in Nairobi, I heard music everywhere, saw giraffes right outside the airport, and enjoyed a pleasant heat and the brightest sunlight I had ever seen. The people were kind and hospitable, polite, honorable, and cleanly.

I met many Rastas in Mombasa. It began with my new brothers Ali and Kwida, and their friends Steve and Jimmy. In fact, Mombasa in 2007 was kind of a Rasta paradise. It was tropical and green, with the outskirts of town still dominated by traditional African village life, and many varieties of dreadlocked people sporting pan-African colors around (even some taking to the streets in ceremonies of worship). I spent most of the year living there and had many opportunities to reason with Ras Tafari followers of every stripe. Some of these were actual Mau-Mau rebels who had allowed their dreadlocks to grow from the 1950s up to this time! It was an honor to reason with these men and I learned a lot (a lot more than that one website on Bob Marley had told me).

The focus of these reasonings was always Haile Selassie I, and all else stemmed from HIM. I learned about his ancient Ethiopian Orthodox Church, the oldest Christian church in the world, and one coming from Old Testament roots, Ethiopia having been a Jewish nation beforehand and possessing the Ark of the Covenant. I learned about the mission to Jamaica, and I learned that Bob Marley had actually been baptized into the Orthodox Church in Jamaica.

During a 2-month stint in the spring of 2007, while I was home briefly in Seattle to earn some money, I ran into an Ethiopian parking lot attendant in Ballard and asked him if they had any Ethiopian Orthodox churches in Seattle? He told me that they absolutely did, and he invited me to attend on Sunday, making sure I knew to show up very early in the morning.

That first time I went to church I showed up at 5am and I didn't leave until 5pm. I had been visiting many different kinds of churches, synagogues, temples, and mosques at this time, trying to find my way to God, but in the Ethiopian church I felt like I had crossed the threshold into heaven on earth. The room was packed, everyone participated, and the worship hit you full-on in all your senses. The entire story from Adam to Noah, Abraham, Moses, David & Solomon, up to Christ and his Disciples and unto the end of time was chanted in that liturgy. On top of that, these were African people, who treated me with the same goodness and hospitality that I had experienced in Kenya (a stark contrast to the hellish behavior I was used to from Americans). This was the beginning of my pursuit of the Ethiopian Orthodox faith.

The story of that pursuit is a very long story. Some of it has already been told here, and some elsewhere. Some of it will yet need to be told in the future. For now, let me just say that I spent the next decade pursuing the Rastafari faith and learning about the Orthodox Church. I attempted to pursue baptism at many times, sometimes being denied (denied by the Greeks because I was a Rastafarian, denied by the Ethiopians because I was a Greek) and other times interrupted (I was waiting for a plane to Ethiopia in 2010 when I received the news of my father-in-law's death and was forced to turn back).

in 2018, I finally made the successful journey to Addis Ababa and was baptized at Haile Selassie I's family church on Arat Kilo, which is also the national cathedral. I was given the name "Amha Selassie." That is it's own epic and worthy story.

A year or two later, in searching for other Ethiopian Orthodox Rastafari people, I found the website for Abuna Yesehaq. I contacted the site and began to correspond with the site's webmaster, an Orthodox Rasta who lives in Tampa, Florida. He put me in touch with Father Haile Malekot, the priest in Jamaica who is Abuna Yesehaq's appointed successor, and the man who has shepherded the Ethiopian Orthodox Church faithful in Jamaica through some of their hardest times as Ethiopia's wars and political divisions created schisms within the church, even manifesting themselves all the way across the world in the Caribbean.

I had several lengthy conversations with Father Haile Malekot over WhatApp, learning of his own visions of Haile Selassie I that had impelled him to join the Ethiopian Church and become a Priest. I was determined to visit him at some point. When Chelly and I began planning our trip to Jamaica, I made a plan to see him and asked him if there was anything we could bring him from Seattle. He humbly requested some common items for use in the church. After discussions with my local clergy, we were able to put together a care package from my priests and deacons to his congregation.

This Sunday

Locating the Church in Ocho Rios was a challenge. I couldn't find it on any maps (not even Google). When I asked the Father for the address, he was only able to tell me the road and orient me to certain landmarks. It turns out that was fine though, and we were actually able to find it quite easily. He told us that service would begin at 8:30, so we were prompt (even though we could have used a few more hours of sleep).

Arriving at St. Mary of Zion, we found a half-built church in the most beautiful setting. Humble. The concrete walls on all four sides had been erected, but the roof, doors, and windows were yet to be installed. There was no floor either, but a grassy patch of rubble. Walking up, we passed under a faded hand-painted sign that said "St. Mary of Zion Ethiopian Orthodox Church." To the right was a small building that served as the kitchen and storerooms, and up the stairs to the left was a makeshift church erected against the side of one of the walls of the future sanctuary.

Inside were a dozen ramshackle pews faced towards a simple iconostasis hung with a mixture of Orthodox icons and images of Haile Selassie I and Empress Menen. There was a simple lectern covered in red cloth, and a collection of Nyahbinghi drums. The day's readings and hymns were sketched on a hanging chalkboard on one side, while a large Ethiopian Imperial flag was hung on the wall opposite.

The congregants were mainly elderly, dreadlocked Jamaicans. Unlike the churches I have visited around the USA and in other parts of the world, I saw no Ethiopian migrants here, only Jamaicans. And so it was unlike any of the other Ethiopian Orthodox Churches I had visited. The service did not begin at 8:30 because the priest was not present, but a series of preparatory prayers did begin and ran until Father Haile Malekot showed up at 10am to begin the liturgy proper. This in contrast to the 4:30 am door-opening and 6am start of services that I am used to with Ethiopians. Considering Jamaica is a tropical isle, with many of these worshippers taking the bus or waking rather than driving (we did not see any other cars than our own), it made since that they would allow more time for ones to travel.

There were several distinctly Jamaican and Rastafari cultural elements to the worship. While many wore Ethiopian-style clothing in white adorned with green, gold, and red, they did not wear them in the same fashion as the Ethiopians. There were no natella (white shawls) to cover people's shoulders. The women covered their hair in ways more reminiscent of West Africans or Muslims even, rather than what I'm used to seeing. Most of the service was held in English, with occasional recourse to Amharic or Ge'ez chanting that sounded close to--but not quite the same as--the way the native speakers do it. Nonetheless, I recognized the sequence of prayers and readings as following the same general structure of Ethiopian Church worship. At a couple points they stopped to sing English-language hymns that I later learned were taken from the Anglican or Catholic traditions they had been raised in before coming here. This was because they did not have knowledge of the Ethiopic "Mezmurs", or traditional church music. It was unusual, unique, and beautiful. We even sang the "Ethiopian Anthem" of the Garveyites, which I knew well from attending Nyahbinghi Ises in Seattle.

When you are baptized into the Orthodox Church, your entire culture and all that you love and hold dear is baptized with you. The important thing is to be theologically of one accord, even though we are culturally distinct. It is only right and natural that the Jamaicans and Rastafarians worship in their own way, as Egyptians, Armenians, and Ethiopians--all being Orthodox Christians--each worship in their own way. I am told that even in different parts of Ethiopia, the language used, the music employed, and other elements of worship are culturally distinct.

After the service, I presented Father Haile Malekot the gifts from our church in Lynnwood (The Gate of Light, St. Mary & St. Arsema). There were a set of priestly robes, a priest's hat, a wooden hand-cross, and several packages of incense in various styles. I also gave him my personal gift of a copy of Dejazmatch Kwasi Bonsu's book, "Haile Selassie I's Ethiopia, Volume One: The Rise of the Priestly Warrior Kings".

After shuttling Chelly back to our room to sleep, I returned to find the church reader reading this book aloud to the congregation. I sat in on the meeting of their church brotherhood, took some videos around the compound, and interviewed Father Haile Malekot about his own story. He told me of his experiences with the Rastafari movement, his visions of Haile Selassie I, his long history with the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, and his message to Rastafarians. I will be releasing this video soon, God-willing, on my YouTube and social media accounts.

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Photos

The Ethiopian Anthem
We chanted this anthem today in the church