Four days later, we did face an obstacle—the location for the burning. I decided that the perfect site to conduct the burning was the City of Refuge - Pu'uhonua o Honaunau, a place of sanctuary, peace and beauty, which was situated on the volcanic coast south of Kailua-Kona. However, there was one problem. As part of the Hawaiian Park system, it had rules prohibiting open fires of any type, profane or sacred. And the burning required an open fire.

In addition, we discovered that permits were needed to do a fire. And not only that, but the rules applied not only within the city walls but as well outside the walls. Natural law supersedes human rules and regulations, and taking a lesson from the bat, I decided that we would just perform the ceremony further down the beach but still on the sacred land of the Refuge.

The ceremony is always scheduled at dusk but requires a great deal of preparation. The correct food and drink must be bought and then cooked properly. It was important that we feed the proper food to the spirits. There were certain foods that were kapu or in mainland language, taboo. While this is happening a ‘table’ for the food, which will be consumed by fire, must be built. With the gentle ocean behind me and the winds quietly caressing my soul, I began to build the offering table. During this primarily stage of the ceremony I could feel the spirits gathering. This is one of the reasons that once a date is set for the burning, it must not be canceled. It has to happen as scheduled. Under no circumstances may the burning be cancelled or postponed.

Just before I opened the ceremony, a light rain began to fall—what the Hawaiians call a ‘blessing rain.’ After this acknowledgement by the heavens time became meaningless as I prepared to open the gateway to the Otherworld. Becoming one with all things of heaven and earth, I began the ceremony by calling in the ancestral spirits.

It would be improper to put into print the details of the burning. Needless to say it can be a very moving experience as you are honoring the ones that have passed over, the forgotten ones as well as the known ones.

As I completed and closed the ceremony, a Park Ranger appeared and he looked none too happy. Our friend walked over to him while Sherry and I, our children and students waited. I could sense the energy ebbing and flowing between the two until they both hugged and parted. It seemed that the ranger was angry that we had gone ahead and done the ceremony against the regulations of the park. But after our friend had explained the spiritual importance of honoring the land and the Hawaiian ancestors, the ranger had a change of mind. Even to the point of attempting to have the regulation amended so that a ceremony such as ours could be conducted in the future.

After we had completed the burning and scattered the ashes of the fire around the base of one of the palm trees, we all returned to where we were staying to shower and then to share a meal together as an ohana. The ohana was very important to these islanders as it was to us. It stood for unity, love and always loyalty. The ohana referred to an extended family ideal, which included not only the immediate family of mother, father, children and grandparents but also all things of the land, the sea and the sky. The ohana also included the ancestor spirits—the ‘aumâkua.

We all retired early to our beds anticipating our journey the next day. We were going back to the white sand beach and the fishing village that I had visited only days earlier.

Burnings are very stressful for Sherry and I so the thought of a restful nights sleep before the next day’s events was manna from heaven. And it was very restful until early in the morning—pre-dawn:

Am I asleep or awake? I sit up in bed, am I sitting or still lying; is this a dream or am I awake? The night sky before me.... that star, why is it shining brighter than any other? A Heavenly Voice—This Star is you; you are this Star! The great purification is of the people! All are One.... Am I asleep? I lie back down….

As I awoke on Sunday morning, I was in awe with my pre-dawn experience. I was not sure if I dreamed it or if I was awake. The star was shining ever so brightly in the East. But what star was it? Who am I? What does this mean?

I briefly shared my experience with Sherry. We only had a short time before we needed to gather our group together and depart for the white sand beach. She suggested that I share the vision, as she called it, with our Hawaiian friend. I agreed that I needed to ask him his opinion.

Further excerpts from the Preface of The Greatest Lie Ever Told