Bolstered by faith and devotion, let us help Mother Nature to carry out the behests of her Master so that all her children, to the very last, can triumph in the light of Truth.
[Faith] is the covenant or engagement between man’s divine part and his lesser self. . . . [The Occultist] does not obtain his strength by his own right, but because he is a part of the whole; and as soon as he is safe from the vibration of life and can stand unshaken, the outer world cries out to him to come and labour in it. So with the heart. When it no longer wishes to take, it is called upon to give abundantly.1
Listen to Prahlada honouring the Beloved and proclaiming our sacred duty toward His multifarious expressions:
He is the One, the Highest,
He is the Sovereign Lord of all the powers and forces.
He is the Unperishing. He is the Inner Self of all. And,
He is also all that manifests.
It takes no labour at all to propriate Him and gain His favour. For, He is verily the Self of all beings, and is everywhere, indefeasibly self-proven, the One Beloved of all souls, ever most near and dear.
Therefore, let us all cast off this Asura-mood of pride and selfishness, and cultivate love and sympathy for all beings — for thus alone can we please Him who is the Overlord of all the senses and of all sentient beings.2
Be heartened by the Presence of his Royal Highness, the Silent and Solitary Watcher of our Race.3
Why does the solitary Watcher remain at his self-chosen post? Why does he sit by the fountain of primeval Wisdom, of which he drinks no longer, as he has naught to learn which he does not know — aye, neither on this Earth, nor in its heaven? Because the lonely, sore-footed pilgrims on their way back to their home are never sure to the last moment of not losing their way in this limitless desert of illusion and matter called Earth-Life. Because he would fain show the way to that region of freedom and light, from which he is a voluntary exile himself, to every prisoner who has succeeded in liberating himself from the bonds of flesh and illusion. Because, in short, he has sacrificed him- self for the sake of mankind, though but a few Elect may profit by the GREAT SACRIFICE.
Slaying the mind just to escape life is no real sacrifice. It is an act of moral cowardice. The message of the Doctrine of the Heart 2 is pure and simple: live for those “who were born under the same immutable natural law.” 3
The “Doctrine of the Eye” is maya; that of the “Heart” alone, can make of him an elect.4
When he has learned the first lesson, conquered the hunger of the heart, and refused to live on the love of others, he finds himself more capable of inspiring love. As he flings life away it comes to him in a new form and with a new meaning.5
Nothing can stand still, or be in the way of Consciousness’ ongoing march from Its pre-cosmic ideation of Be-ness down to the privations of Being and up again — through the flesh. Perpetual change simmers everywhere.
The voice of the Almighty saith, “Up and onward for evermore!” We cannot stay amid the ruins. Neither will we rely on the new; and so we walk ever with reverted eyes, like those monsters who look backwards.6
“The diamond buried deep within the throbbing heart of earth can never mirror back the earthly lights.” 7 But a pure mind, tempered by the toils and tears of embodied life, can pierce the cloak of separateness and claim its rightful place in Buddha’s Diamond Heart.
Like those wonderful “Snow Flowers” of Northern Siberia, which, in order to shoot forth from the cold frozen soil, have to pierce through a thick layer of hard, icy snow, so these rare characters [the philanthropists and altruists of our age] have to fight their battles all their life with cold indifference and human harshness, and with the selfish ever-mocking world of wealth.8
Then, Brotherly Love will open “the midnight blossom of Buddha” 1 and whisper to the heart of every pilgrim soul:
Ah, love, let us be true To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night.2
Canon Charles Kingsley allowed Hypatia, “the glorious maiden-philosopher, torn to pieces” by those “whose eloquence she eclipsed,” 3 to be uplifted by a vision of the Divine Theosophists of old Greece:
Hector, the father, fights around, while his children sleep and feed; and he is away in the wars, and they know him not — know not that they the individuals are but parts of him the universal. And yet at moments — oh! thrice blessed they whose celestial parentage has made such moments part of their appointed destiny — at moments flashes on the human child the intuition of the unutterable secret. In the spangled glory of the summer night — in the roar of the Nile-flood, sweeping down fertility in every wave — in the awful depths of the temple-shrine — in the wild melodies of old Orphic singers, or before the images of those gods of whose perfect beauty the divine theosophists of Greece caught a fleeting shadow, and with the sudden might of artistic ecstasy smote it, as by an enchanter’s wand, into an eternal sleep of snowy stone — in these there flashes on the inner eye a vision beautiful and terrible, of a force, an energy, a soul, an idea, one and yet million-fold, rushing through all created things, like the wind across a lyre, thrilling the strings into celestial harmony — one lifeblood through the million veins of the universe, from one great unseen heart, whose thunderous pulses the mind hears far away, beating for ever in the abysmal solitude, beyond the heavens and the galaxies, beyond the spaces and the times, themselves but veins and runnels from its all-teeming sea.4
When the Great Cosmic Truths are assimilated, reverence for the Benefactors of Humanity shall bring out tears of gratitude, kindness and goodwill to all, tenderness and mercy on earth. In this alchemic process, karma instils personal responsibility, the eternity of the spiritual soul strengthens hope, self joyfully surrenders to Self.
If he has power enough to awaken that unaccustomed part of himself, the supreme essence, then has he power to lift the Gates of Gold, then is he the true alchemist, in possession of the elixir of life.1
With the opposites confluent once more, the fog of duality lifted and consciousness uplifted, the “still small voice” of the GREAT SACRIFICE brings solace to the pilgrim’s heart by murmuring gently — a “silence more musical than any song”; 2
By the enlightened application of our precepts to practice. By the use of our higher reason, spiritual intuition and moral sense, and by following the dictates of what we call “the still small voice” of our conscience, which is that of our EGO, and which speaks louder in us than the earthquakes and the thunders of Jehovah, wherein “the Lord is not.” 3
The voice stirs his heart to its depths, for he feels that the words are true. His daily and hourly battle is teaching him that self-centredness is the root of misery, the cause of pain, and his soul is full of longing to be free.4
I will bring thee near unto Myself, and do thou abide ever with Me; Thou are not well whilst far removed from Me. I have mine eye on the road to watch when thou comest nigh unto Me.5
As the Voice ceased, the heavy load fell from the Pilgrim’s back to the ground. A sudden flash, and the Eternal Pilgrim knew that the Voice he has heard had come to him from the HOLY of the HOLIES of his own Heart — the lotus throne of Narayana, where Being, Thought, and Bliss are indissolubly one.6
And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one.7
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