I have just finished reading Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah for the second time. Richard Bach published the book in 1977 - the year I graduated from high school. I remember reading Jonathan Livingston Seagull and how I impressed the socks off of English Teacher Sara Baucom with my insightful book report.
I can't help it. There is a spirituality that pervades Richard Bach's works - at least, those two - that speaks to me. It seems to go a little deeper than other works by different authors. In the book, Richard is a mechanic who encounters Donald Shimoda, the Messiah who will be his teacher. He gives Richard the Messiah's Handbook, a work filled with maxims that leap from the chapters like a Truth.
Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they're yours.
You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make it true. You may have to work for it, however.
The original sin is to limit the Is. Don't.
In order to live free and happily, you must sacrifice boredom.
Every person, all the events of your life are there because you have drawn them there. What you choose to do with them is up to you.
They make perfect sense to me, even taken out of the context of the book in which they were written.
I am not a theologist, and certainly not a reviewer, but Illusions, to me, is a book full of what we already know at some level, a guide to finding our own spirituality, and enough answers to make the reader question the questions. If it makes you think at a deeper level, then it is good.
The book progresses with Richard's learning, and ends the ultimate ending - or is it an ending? - that stirs the reader. Whether you believe it a guide or a pile of reshaped cliches, it is also a masterful work of pure art that has the honesty and power to touch and inspire examination.
The world is your exercise book, the pages on which you do your sums. It is not reality, although you can express reality there if you wish. You are also free to write nonsense, or lies, or to tear the pages.
We already do, don't we?