I wish I could bless each and every one of you with a happy Easter. Easter is a time symbolizing the eventual resurrection of our little, individual selves into the one, Infinite Self. I suggest at this time particularly that you study and meditate on the photograph of Master titled The Last Smile. And consider this amazing fact: He knew that in just a few moments he would be leaving his physical body forever! There is no thought of self in his eyes, of personal regret, of sorrow. Clearly visible in his eyes and in his facial expression is his unconditional love for all mankind; his readiness to return “again and again,” as he put it, as long as one stray brother sits weeping by the wayside. Such love, for ego-centered humanity, is not even conceivable. And this was the love Jesus, too, felt for all humanity. People weep for him and his suffering on the cross. His suffering was only for humanity, that blindly rejects God’s love and substitutes for it vengefulness and hatred!
I have been going through a personal Armageddon. Nothing in this world attracts me any more. Nothing at all holds any pleasant memories–none of those experiences, whether interpersonal or outward in any way, holds the slightest attraction for me. Must I really live another five years, as has been predicted for me? I confess the very idea appalls me. I have done so much in my life to please God. The very hallmark of my nature has been enthusiasm, even though I’ve been always aware that I could never really accomplish anything significant in this world. Suddenly, now, I feel bereft of that enthusiasm. Maybe it’s because my heart feels very tired. I want only to merge in God. The only lingering thought is that I would like to bring all of you with me. No, I am far from tired of you! I want only your freedom in God. But no, your worldly attachments, identities, and desires, I have to confess mean simply nothing to me, as my own mean nothing to me.
No, this doesn’t mean I love you less. I love you much more, for I love that part of you which is eternally real.
But whether I succeed or fail in my projects is to me meaningless. All the things I once considered pleasurable are to me, now, displeasing. I want nothing that this world has to offer. People tell me I am famous: that phrase, to me, also is meaningless. People often marvel at all I have been able to accomplish in this life: to me, it all seems only dust.
If we must resurrect our souls, let it be from the delusion that anything in this cosmic dream holds some worthwhile reality for us. We are children of God: That is our sole reality!