Loch Lomond, Lake County -- Da Free John, the guru sued last year for allegedly ordering a follower to participate in sexual activities on his remote Fiji island, is back in California and touting celibacy at his retreat near here.

"We figured he was back when we saw his big limousine on the road," said a Loch Lomond man who lives a few miles from the guru's 600-acre mountain retreat at Siegler Springs.

The spiritual leader, born Franklin Jones in Queens, N.Y., returned to Northern California in May with a new name for himself, a new title for his religion and a new message for his followers.

The message is a strict one: He is asking his followers, even the married ones, to take vows of perpetual celibacy.

"From the beginning, he has always preached of the transcendence of conventional sexuality," said Crane Kirkbride of Jones' Laughing Man Foundation in San Rafael. Now, Jones and his followers are spiritually advanced enough to follow that path, Kirkbride said.

Jones' new theology comes little more than a year after a former member of the sect charged him with compelling her to participate in sexual activities against her will. The woman's complaints, along with those of other ex-members, involved what a spokesman for the sect later described as sexual experimentation for those who were advanced enough spiritually.

The suit, filed by Beverly O'Mahony, is described by her attorney, David Cunningham, as "alive, but dormant." Jones won the opening round in November when a Marin County judge ruled that O'Mahony had no legal basis for bringing the action.

The new path of celibacy for the followers of Jones' Advaitayana Buddhist Communion, formerly known as the Johannine Daist Communion, is one of the things being explained at weekend retreats, which bring hundreds of people into the mountains above Clear Lake.

Jones now calls himself Da Love-Ananda, a name Kirkbride said he was given years ago by a swami in India.

The guru, who in the past was seen only by a small circle of religious intimates, is appearing at the Sunday afternoon gatherings.

"It is remarkable to us," Kirkbride said. "After not seeing anyone but his students for 16 years, he has opened himself to all who seek knowledge."

Although the grounds of the retreat, now known as the Mount of Atonement [sic], feature a large, tent-like structure, Jones is anything but a revival-style preacher.

For three hours in the morning, the visitors hear about the religion from followers of Jones, who sing his praises. In the afternoon, Jones sits silently for two hours in front of the respectfully quiet crowd as music plays and his teachings are read, Kirkbride said.

The retreats are advertised in the Bay Area in the Bay Guardian, promising that the guru "will be available in occasions of 'Darshan,' or (literally) sightings of the Enlightened Teacher."

The ad is part of an attempt to draw people to the retreats, Kirkbride said. He estimated that more than 1700 people showed up the first two weekends and that 1200 attended yesterday. His followers estimate that as many as 100,000 may attend the retreats before Jones leaves Northern California to continue his "worldwide pilgrimage of Blessing" in Los Angeles, Seattle and points east.

"He is wandering right now," Kirkbride said. "Where he goes and how long he stays depends on the response."

Enlightenment has its cost. Each visitor is asked to pay $85 for the all-day session in Lake County.

The hue and cry that followed charges of the inner circle's booze-and-sex parties have had their effect on the already reclusive sect.

People who want to go to the retreats first have to be screened at the San Rafael headquarters before getting permission to attend. A fence encloses much of the Lake County facility, and neighbors report that men regularly patrol the area looking for trespassers.

Local residents have almost no complaints about the sect and do not mind seeing Jones back at the retreat.

"As far as we're concerned, it's like they're not even there," said Sergeant Doug Rhoades of the Lake County Sheriff's Department. "They're very cooperative and no trouble."

The sect's neighbors in Loch Lomond echo the sentiment.

"They don't bother anyone at all," said Al DeAlexandre, bartender at a Loch Lomond lodge. "They keep to themselves and like to be left alone."

Members of the sect are employed throughout Lake County and include doctors and lawyers practicing in and around the town of Clearlake. All contribute a portion of their earnings to Jones' work.

"I'm surprised at the caliber of people brought in by the group," said Bill Hecomovich, who in 1968 sold Jones the aging mineral springs resort that now serves as the retreat.