The False Prophetess

Beware of False Prophets!
By June Leavitt

My husband and I met Karine at the seashore where she was gathering stones. With long silver hair, radiant blue eyes and tawny young skin, she made a striking figure surrounded by her devotees. We asked her what she was doing. She replied that she was teaching them to have greater powers of concentration, to be more attuned to beauty. She asked if we wanted to take part in the workshop. We declined, but told her if she were to have another workshop, we might be interested. Two weeks later, we got a phone call. She was having another weekend seminar at the same seashore. "Can't do any harm, I suppose," I said to my husband. "And if we don't like her meditation workshop, at least we'll enjoy the seashore."

But when we got to the seashore retreat for the weekend workshop, we were shocked. Karine was alone and in a nasty mood. "Where is everybody?" we asked.

"I threw them out, "she answered

"You threw them out?" I asked surprised. "What do you mean?"

She replied, "I threw them out because they will never progress spirituality." When we pressed her to tell us what she meant, she said, "Ask the moon." Then she walked away.

Three years later, we got a call from her secretary. Karine, after traveling around the world, had returned and was having a workshop in an evergreen wood. She would be teaching once again meditation, this time with chimes. Would we be interested in coming? Can't do any harm, I suppose," my husband said to me. "And if we don't like the chimes, at least we'll enjoy the woods."

We sat on a hillside with Karine's bells, triangles, cymbals and chimes hanging from Juniper trees. In between taking a clapper and touching off beautiful sounds, she bragged about the meditation techniques she had invented; the teachers she had thrown out when they didn't live up to her expectations. Most of all, she bragged about the prophetic abilities she had, and her ability to see the future. The students sitting at her feet began asking her questions about her spectacular powers.

Forgetting about chimes and triangles, Karine sat down and began lecturing about herself. I looked at my husband and he made a slight face. We didn't know how we could get up politely and leave. We hadn't signed up for a course called "Introduction to the Wisdom of Karine." But there we were in the middle of this forest and to say "Excuse me, I have an important meeting," just wasn't honest.

We sat for another hour, and my husband, a lecturer in religious philosophy finally said very respectfully, "You know there are different levels of prophecy. Moses was at the highest level. After that came the lesser prophets. Karine, maybe you are like one of the Minor Prophets."

Karine turned red. "How dare you accuse me of being a minor prophet? Who are you to recognize the level I am on? You only think I'm on a minor level, because you're blind, and you want to ruin my workshop! You've come to ruin my workshop. All the people here know my worth! You don't know? Why did you come?"

She ranted and raged for at least ten minutes exhibiting pride, arrogance, an uncontrollable temper, an exaggerated sense of her own worth and scorn for other people. It was obvious that her spiritualistic or occult skills had not changed the awful qualities she possessed, and there was no way she could help or heal other people because she could not see beyond her little self. Finally when we picked ourselves up and left, one of her disciples came with us crying. She told us how Karine had kept her thinking for years that she would always be a lost soul if she wasn't Karine's disciple.

Clearly, Karine was searching for power, not in order to control her devastating emotions, but to control other people. My husband and I realized then she fit the definition of a false prophet. Real prophets like Moses were humble. They annihilated themselves and exalted God. False prophets annihilated God and exalted themselves. When we got home, we wrote Karine a letter and we told her this.

One week later Karine's secretary called, not acknowledging our letter, but demanding two hundred dollars for the workshop. Afraid of the bad spell this false prophet might cast on us, we quickly sent her a check, and thankfully we have never seen or heard of her since.