Your Kundalini rises. She is your mother. She is your individual mother and she gives you the second birth. That’s how you get connected to the Divine Paradise.
All this, if it is told without Realisation, has no meaning. But people were given great ideas about it and also were promised that “one day your resurrection will come.” It is the greatest happening for you. It is the greatest event of your life and one must consider it is very fortunate that you have been able to achieve it. All this is because you desired it.
In many of your lives you have been desiring the heavenly paradise. People have been going around in the hills and dales seeking, doing all kinds of things. That is already done by you. You do not have to give up anything….
Life is not that difficult for you. Your job is the easiest thing…. You are all realised souls and you have to create the Divine Paradise on this Earth.
Shri Mataji 2000
It is for us to remember that Christ was born on this Earth as a human being. He came on this Earth, and the task that was before Him was to enlighten human awareness with the sense of understanding. We can say it is actualisation within the awareness of human being, that they are not this body but they are the spirit. The message of Christ is His resurrection. That is, you are your spirit, not your body; and He showed by His resurrection how He ascended into the realm of spirit which he was, because He was Pranava, He was Brahma, He was Mahavishnu.
As I have told you about His birth. And when He came on this Earth in a body like a human being He wanted to show another thing, that spirit has nothing to do with money, has nothing to do with power. It is all-powerful, all-pervading, but it is born in a stable, not in a palace or to a king. But He was born to a very ordinary person, a carpenter…. It means simply that nothing is higher than you; neither anything can decorate you because whatever you are, you are at the highest. All the worldly things, so-called, are just like dry grass … so He was kept in dry grass .…
He was happiness, He was joy. To make you all happy, to give you the light of happiness by enlightening your source of joy that is your spirit in your heart, that He came on this Earth. Not only to save you, first to give you happiness, to give you joy, because human beings in their ignorance and in this tomfoolery are unnecessarily beating themselves and destroying themselves…. He comes there like a morning flower to make you happy; first to make you happy, to give you joy ….
You see a child anywhere, any child, such a joy-giving thing it is, and this is the child of the Divine that comes on this Earth as a child, is the most joy-giving thing. And that’s why Christmas for all of us, for the whole universe should be a festival of great joy, for He brought light for us by which you could see that there is someone called as God, there is someone who is going to remove this ignorance; this was the first beginning.
So for us it is necessary to be first joyous and be happy and relaxed, and not to take anything that seriously as we take, because divine life doesn’t make you serious because it’s all a play; it’s a maya. I have seen in all the rituals that people follow, in all the so-called religious people, they are too serious to be religious. A religious person will be bubbling with laughter. He doesn’t know how to hide his joy. And he doesn’t know how to control his laughter when he sees people who are unnecessarily serious ….
So be joyous that here at the Agnya Chakra again Christ is born within you, and He is there, and you know how you can ask for His help, always.
Shri Mataji, Christmas Party Talk, 1983
I did not want to go. I had travelled to that land of dreams. It was a light, serene place, a restful place. I had gone from life on this Earth. I had left the pain and the heat and gone away; away from my tired, sick body.
But when I heard him his voice was music itself. It threaded my soul back into sinewy surrounds, into the cavities of bone and flesh. Breath was born in my lungs again and my heart reverberated to the sound of his voice. It was my heart which heard his call. Then my ears responded, muffled as they were. My hands tried to pull the cloth from my face. There was the scent of aloes and of myrrh. My steps were slow and weak, my limbs numb. I leaned on the wall with one hand as I came, dragging the weighted linen which wrapped me. Blinded by the light, I felt the shock, the indrawn breath of the crowd but I couldn’t see them.
Then my sister Martha touched me warily. I could smell the wood smoke and warm bread in her hair. Her tears wet my cheek. Then Mary, my other sister, held my hand, rubbing the numbness out. I felt like a child again: their little brother once more, to be cosseted and plied with grapes and oranges.
Then Jesus held a lamp before my eyes and asked me to see. First the lamplight and then his dear face came into focus. We were all smiling. But later Mary came to me when I was resting. She looked troubled.
“Lazarus, this will not pass unnoticed by the men who would harm him. I fear we are near the end. They cannot bear his miracles”.
And Mary Magdalene was with us then. She was the one who saw more than the rest of us. She was completely devoted to Jesus. She came into the room holding the alabaster jar she had bought some time back.
“He will be going soon. We must prepare,” she said.
I was still dazed, not ready to understand the sadness in her eyes.
After supper she came with a basin and water to wash his feet and then rubbed them dry with her hair, weeping silently. Then she broke the top from the jar and poured the perfumed oil onto his feet and tenderly rubbed them. The rest of us sat in silence; except for a late bird ringing its bell tone in the tree outside, everything was stilled as we breathed the rich perfume. Then one of his companions said to Mary as she gathered up the shards.
“But this was valuable ointment. You are an extravagant woman. Why did you not put its price in the poor-box?”
Then Jesus spoke across Mary’s bent head, “There will always be poor people needing money. But Mary has seen what is coming. She understands my destiny. Did you not see her tears? She knows I am soon to leave you.”
He understood our hearts so well. I looked around at his companions, the men he had chosen. Some looked uncertain, puzzled by Mary’s act and by his reproof of Judas. Judas himself did not speak again but looked away, his lips tightly pressed.
A few, like John and I, had unshed tears. But we really didn’t understand him as well as Mary had. What harm could come to him? He who had this day called me back from the grave where I’d been lain three days before? Who could challenge such a commander of men as this?
Now that the year is past I can see that he came back to us four years ago, from the land of Hinde, the land of the Magi, only because he knew he must be killed. He had to allow the terrible, cruel will of the most aggressive men to manifest fully. Only then could he show the power of our Spirit which transcends all. My little death and return was not enough.
There were moments in the days which followed my return, after he was taken, when I could have wished he had not called me back. When we heard that they were torturing him, we could hardly even bear to breathe.
And later, after he and his mother, who is Mother of us all, after they’d gone away to Hinde, then, it seemed to me that it still was not ended: that the proof he’d shown would not be enough yet for people to change, to make themselves like him. There was still so much sadness in our lives.
When we were with him we could see and feel the truth of all that he said. He was clearly the manifest love of our Father. Even the dust of the roads couldn’t dull the radiance of his person. His body was fragrant, as if the flowers gave their perfume to him as he passed. The air around him shimmered and wherever his eyes looked colours grew brighter. His voice cooled our inner ear and caused our restless minds to expand into holy spaces.
But for all that, we couldn’t change the world when he had gone. The light went with him. Only his mother could comfort us then. She was truly a warrior’s mother. Later we realized that she had always known he was to be the sacrifice ─ apparent sacrifice, for death had no power over him. But in the days of darkness when we thought he had gone from us it was his mother, Mary, who drew us together and kept us from drowning in our grief.
We had gone to her house thinking to comfort her, to give voice to our mourning. We discovered her serene. She was arranging flowers in a vase and smiled a little at our pale faces and offered us food and comfort. As more and more people came she greeted each one with words of courage and nourished their poor faint bodies with fresh grape juice and wholesome bread. Some were shocked to find her so calm, so queenly. Had we not seen and shared her great pain? Seen through our tears as we’d witnessed his dying? As we’d clung together in that dark, dreadful place? But now, so soon after, she is untroubled. I marvelled at her nobility as she took each newcomer into her care. We had become quite a crowd, mostly silent but absorbed in the tranquility she spread about us.
Then we heard lively footsteps and all turned towards the doorway. Stephen appeared, glowing, overflowing with joy, breathless from his haste. His words were unbelievable. I thought at first I’d misheard him saying, “He is risen.” But there was no mistake. He looked directly across the room to Mary. Our eyes followed his and through our tears again we saw her smile and move her head in gentle affirmation, “Yes.”
Our hearts filled, and it is wonderful that we did not all leap up and exclaim and make a great noise. I imagine that the silence then was like it must have been at his first birth in that stable when his radiance and hers must have filled every living thing around with awe and peace. Then I understood how she had been able to fill us all with quiet satisfaction, with her own calm. She had always been so sure of him, this mother of warriors. She was absolutely certain of the ability of her son to transcend even death. He had always been like that. And they had known each other from before the beginning of the world. It was with this new awareness that she began to prepare us for the battles we were all to face in the years to follow.
(Photograph: The Resurrection of Lazarus by Jean Jouvenet. Courtesy of commons.wikimedia.org)