The Message
A master lay on his bed, ready to depart from this world. As was the custom, his three closest disciples gathered around his bed, ready to receive his final teaching so that they might continue his work in the world.
The master’s condition was such that he was unable to speak, but there remained a little strength in his arm, therefore he gestured to a pen and paper beside the bed and they gave them to him. With one final effort, he wrote a single sentence and then smiled and slipped quietly away into the land beyond knowing.
The disciples gently took the slip of paper from his fingers and looked at it carefully, then went outside to announce the passing of the master to the crowd that was gathered there.
“What of the master’s final teaching?” the junior students asked eagerly. “Did you receive the full transmission?”
“Yes,” said one, “and we will share it with you. The master’s message is this: “If you write a message, it must be on pure white paper, of the best quality you can find.””
“But that was not the whole message”, said another. “You must use only the finest ink, no other will do, and it must be black ink, not blue or any other colour.”
“I feel you have missed the point, my brothers,” said the third, “It was the words themselves that were of the greatest import. The way the letters were formed, the flourish on the down strokes, the fluidity and style of the writing.”
And the crowd went away confused and dismayed, for they did not understand the relevance of the teaching to their daily lives, yet they had faith in the master’s message and followed the disciples, who each set up a school of their own, to study deeply the nature of paper and ink and writing.
Meanwhile, the body of the master was removed from the house and taken for cremation, and a lady went in to clean the master’s room. She had with her a three year old daughter, who brought her a piece of paper she had found on the floor.
“What does it say?” she asked her mother.
“It says: 'Be still, and know that we are one.'” said her mother, and threw it on the fire. “It’s just rubbish.”
But the little girl liked the sound of the words, though she did not understand their meaning. And later that day, when she and her mother arrived home late and her father was about to beat them because his dinner was not on the table, the words came to her mind, and she spoke them aloud: “Be still, and know that we are one.” And although her father was still angry, for some reason, his hand fell to his side and they were spared a beating that night. And her older brother heard her words and reflected on them.
And the next day, when he came across two of his school friends bullying a new boy because of the colour of his skin, the words came into his mind and he spoke them aloud: “Be still, and know that we are one”. And though his friends laughed and called him soft in the head, they left the new boy alone.
And it came to pass, at some later date, that the nations of the world gathered on the global battlefield, divided in the name of religion, and the politicians and priests of each side deployed their armed forces and weapons of mass destruction, ready for the final confrontation. The air was thick with anger and fear and hatred. The multitude, in the grip of these emotions, had lost their powers of reason. They feared for their lives and the lives of their loved ones. They feared for their homes, their possessions and their money. They hated all of those whom their politicians and priests declared to be responsible for the threat and the fear. Their anger would allow them to stop at nothing in annihilating the enemy, even if in so doing, they put at risk all life on the planet.
Yet among the opposing forces stood two men, one on each side. One fell silent, remembering the words of his sister as his father prepared to beat her. The other fell silent, remembering the words of a boy in a playground who had rescued him from school bullies and had thereafter become his friend until he had returned to his own country.
Each man surveyed the battlefield and wondered what it was that divided the people of the world. Then with one accord, they each walked forward onto the field between the opposing forces.
“Stop!” cried the priests and the politicians. “Wait for our permission.”
But the two men walked towards each other until they could look into each other’s eyes and they said with one voice: “I alone am. And so are you”.
And those nearby who heard these words were disturbed by them. Their hatred and anger and fear subsided and the voice of reason asked what this might mean, and they repeated the words aloud: “I… alone…. am.”
And on each side of the battlefield, the words spread among the multitude like a fire through brushwood: “I alone am…I alone am…” like a mantra chanted louder and louder, as each individual soul heard and echoed the words it had come into the world to hear and to speak.
“Blasphemy!” cried the priests. “Heresy! This esoteric nonsense is against our tenets. There is only one God.”
“Yes!” cried the multitude. “And I alone am!”
And the priests were shocked by this observation. They reflected on their customs and beliefs, and on their central tenets and theologies and dogmas, and finally on the spirit of the original teachings of their founders, and as the trappings fell away and insight dawned, they too raised their voices, saying “I alone am.”
And the politicians turned to their aides, uncertain what to do. Wondering if perhaps this new emotional fervour could somehow be turned to their advantage. But there were no votes to win, no upper hand to be gained. The chanting on both sides of the battlefield was of equal and ever increasing volume. And finally even the politicians, and the extremists, and those most firmly entrenched in their prejudice and hatred, were overwhelmed by the united cry from all sides, and their deepest fears and distorted thoughts evaporated, and their minds calmed and cleared, and they joined in with the one voice which now issued from every mouth in the multitude:
“I ALONE AM
I AM MYSELF AND NO OTHER
I AM ONE AND I AM ALL
BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD”
And the One Voice fell silent and the One Mind rested in the stillness.
And then the One Awareness looked out through its many pairs of eyes, and with its many arms lay down its weapons.
And the women and children of the many nations smiled and walked forward and embraced each other. And the men hesitated but then went forward to shake hands with their former enemies. And the people of every nation set about rebuilding the schools and the hospitals, honouring the dead, enabling the infirm, and cleaning up the mess they had accumulated over the decades. Together they shared in the co-creation of their world; joint caretakers and gardeners, rejoicing in their diversity while aware always of their true identity.
And so, to this day, we work and play with joy and love in our hearts, and every now and then we fall still and know that we are one.
Return Home
The master’s condition was such that he was unable to speak, but there remained a little strength in his arm, therefore he gestured to a pen and paper beside the bed and they gave them to him. With one final effort, he wrote a single sentence and then smiled and slipped quietly away into the land beyond knowing.
The disciples gently took the slip of paper from his fingers and looked at it carefully, then went outside to announce the passing of the master to the crowd that was gathered there.
“What of the master’s final teaching?” the junior students asked eagerly. “Did you receive the full transmission?”
“Yes,” said one, “and we will share it with you. The master’s message is this: “If you write a message, it must be on pure white paper, of the best quality you can find.””
“But that was not the whole message”, said another. “You must use only the finest ink, no other will do, and it must be black ink, not blue or any other colour.”
“I feel you have missed the point, my brothers,” said the third, “It was the words themselves that were of the greatest import. The way the letters were formed, the flourish on the down strokes, the fluidity and style of the writing.”
And the crowd went away confused and dismayed, for they did not understand the relevance of the teaching to their daily lives, yet they had faith in the master’s message and followed the disciples, who each set up a school of their own, to study deeply the nature of paper and ink and writing.
Meanwhile, the body of the master was removed from the house and taken for cremation, and a lady went in to clean the master’s room. She had with her a three year old daughter, who brought her a piece of paper she had found on the floor.
“What does it say?” she asked her mother.
“It says: 'Be still, and know that we are one.'” said her mother, and threw it on the fire. “It’s just rubbish.”
But the little girl liked the sound of the words, though she did not understand their meaning. And later that day, when she and her mother arrived home late and her father was about to beat them because his dinner was not on the table, the words came to her mind, and she spoke them aloud: “Be still, and know that we are one.” And although her father was still angry, for some reason, his hand fell to his side and they were spared a beating that night. And her older brother heard her words and reflected on them.
And the next day, when he came across two of his school friends bullying a new boy because of the colour of his skin, the words came into his mind and he spoke them aloud: “Be still, and know that we are one”. And though his friends laughed and called him soft in the head, they left the new boy alone.
And it came to pass, at some later date, that the nations of the world gathered on the global battlefield, divided in the name of religion, and the politicians and priests of each side deployed their armed forces and weapons of mass destruction, ready for the final confrontation. The air was thick with anger and fear and hatred. The multitude, in the grip of these emotions, had lost their powers of reason. They feared for their lives and the lives of their loved ones. They feared for their homes, their possessions and their money. They hated all of those whom their politicians and priests declared to be responsible for the threat and the fear. Their anger would allow them to stop at nothing in annihilating the enemy, even if in so doing, they put at risk all life on the planet.
Yet among the opposing forces stood two men, one on each side. One fell silent, remembering the words of his sister as his father prepared to beat her. The other fell silent, remembering the words of a boy in a playground who had rescued him from school bullies and had thereafter become his friend until he had returned to his own country.
Each man surveyed the battlefield and wondered what it was that divided the people of the world. Then with one accord, they each walked forward onto the field between the opposing forces.
“Stop!” cried the priests and the politicians. “Wait for our permission.”
But the two men walked towards each other until they could look into each other’s eyes and they said with one voice: “I alone am. And so are you”.
And those nearby who heard these words were disturbed by them. Their hatred and anger and fear subsided and the voice of reason asked what this might mean, and they repeated the words aloud: “I… alone…. am.”
And on each side of the battlefield, the words spread among the multitude like a fire through brushwood: “I alone am…I alone am…” like a mantra chanted louder and louder, as each individual soul heard and echoed the words it had come into the world to hear and to speak.
“Blasphemy!” cried the priests. “Heresy! This esoteric nonsense is against our tenets. There is only one God.”
“Yes!” cried the multitude. “And I alone am!”
And the priests were shocked by this observation. They reflected on their customs and beliefs, and on their central tenets and theologies and dogmas, and finally on the spirit of the original teachings of their founders, and as the trappings fell away and insight dawned, they too raised their voices, saying “I alone am.”
And the politicians turned to their aides, uncertain what to do. Wondering if perhaps this new emotional fervour could somehow be turned to their advantage. But there were no votes to win, no upper hand to be gained. The chanting on both sides of the battlefield was of equal and ever increasing volume. And finally even the politicians, and the extremists, and those most firmly entrenched in their prejudice and hatred, were overwhelmed by the united cry from all sides, and their deepest fears and distorted thoughts evaporated, and their minds calmed and cleared, and they joined in with the one voice which now issued from every mouth in the multitude:
“I ALONE AM
I AM MYSELF AND NO OTHER
I AM ONE AND I AM ALL
BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD”
And the One Voice fell silent and the One Mind rested in the stillness.
And then the One Awareness looked out through its many pairs of eyes, and with its many arms lay down its weapons.
And the women and children of the many nations smiled and walked forward and embraced each other. And the men hesitated but then went forward to shake hands with their former enemies. And the people of every nation set about rebuilding the schools and the hospitals, honouring the dead, enabling the infirm, and cleaning up the mess they had accumulated over the decades. Together they shared in the co-creation of their world; joint caretakers and gardeners, rejoicing in their diversity while aware always of their true identity.
And so, to this day, we work and play with joy and love in our hearts, and every now and then we fall still and know that we are one.
Return Home