Me, Maharaji, Murshid Sam, & Jesus

Me, Maharaji, Murshid Sam, & Jesus

I always thought, with substantial reason, that to be worth anything, really, I'd need to be much nicer, by which standard I remain a pauper, but then, the few pages I've read about Murshid Sam don't make him sound like he suffered fools, either, and goodness knows Maharaji Neem Karoli Baba could be, direct, to say the least. And while, as an example of Christ's non meek and mild side, all we have in the remaining Scriptures is his explosion in the retail section of the temple but I think we can trust that the only reason Christ's complaining about the rag tag bunch that were his disciples aren't documented in Scripture is that the rag tag bunch that were his disciples are the ones (purported) to tell those stories. I mean, even if it's just my personal rabbi who has left this plane of existence, and not the Christ, just my own rabbi, gone, and I'm telling the story? It could be that I don't mention when my rabbi told me I had a head like a rock and I should be lucky to be fisherman, and not a doorstop. 

The Anointed One, the great Rabbi knew that different hearers will need different calls, and I didn't listen to the rabbi's instruction because it was kind but but because it was correct. And when Christ, the great Rabbi spoke, I didn't perk my ears, avert my gaze, and open my heart because he could work a crowd but because a crowd couldn't work Him, even in the center of the tempest, the middle of the crowd.

He remained in the center of Himself, whether inviting lepers in or casting demons out, it was from the center of Him that exorcism and blessing and complaining about the truly tiresome twelve flowed; both, correction and consolation, were heart-centered freedoms not bound by nice, but founded on and freely given in Love.