The intensity of longing for enlightenment,
the"divine nostalgia" for unity with Divine
is a driving force, motivating the seeker to advance
on his/her quest for enlightenment.
The desire to walk in the footsteps of the masters is the calling of the spirit and the soul of every person. When the time comes for a person to break free of cultural and traditional limitations, and learn the truth behind the phenomena of miracles, we provide guidance, teachings and protection for the seeker to acquire true mystical knowledge and infinite faith.
There is a nagging emotional memory—
deeply embedded in the memory bank of each person, of union with the One Being. In the bedrock of awareness there is still a sense of what it felt like to be in that indescribable state of bliss. This nostalgia calls the seeker to not to be satisfied with less than who they really
Divine nostalgia acts like a guiding compass, and stirs each person to push forward on their path. We look for this intense yearning as a sign that the seeker is ready to be initiated into the path of performing miracles.
If this longing is present, it makes our job much easier, to make it possible for people to be directly taught by an initiate, or in cases where the motivation is less intense, for us at least to help them procure books for private study.
This is the time for people to advance in the direction of empowering enlightenment. It is not enough to worship those who have gone before;
it is necessary to follow in their footsteps,
becoming an elder, doing what They did.
When a child of God gazes upon any situation and wishes to bring healing and joy to it, the skills, understanding, and mastery for accomplishing this must be in place.
Here is one of our stories:
It was a cloudy early spring afternoon.
Sarah passed by a few blocks of inner city slums on her way back from classes at University. Often she stopped and gazed upon the row of dilapidated houses.
The children who lived on this street rarely played outdoors. Sounds of laughter were seemingly never heard.
She longed to do something to help, but she realized sadly that alcohol, poverty, anger and abuse were rampant here, Like everyone else who knew this area, she was afraid to interfere.
She felt old familiar feelings of compassion, frustration and helplessness surge through her.
Why did the scriptures talk about miracles, and then when a miracle was really needed, it was so difficult to come forward with one?
This seemed so frustrating and tragic and hypocritical to her. Feelings of anger and determination rose up within her.
She was no longer going to put up with it! Oh how deeply she wanted to help!
She tightly closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she remembered the sadness of these little children. She prayed to Divine Being," Why don’t you empower me? How can you provide all these scriptures about miracles and yet leave me feeling so helpless like this?"
Just then she opened one eye and saw a sad, frightened, forlorn little girl looking at her. The tiny child was sitting on the front porch steps of the middle house on the right, clutching a broken dirty doll.
Clenching her fists even harder, heart breaking, she silently screamed, “Why can’t I help her? Why don’t you help me to help her? Why!"
Several days passed. Overcasts skies cleared and Sarah was back at
University watching students walking under protective branches of the large oaks in the quadrangle.
Ever since that afternoon in the ghettos she had felt suspended in a place of no-time and distant emotionality, as if her soul had left and gone somewhere else while her body mechanically went through the usual motions.
A new hope was growing within her. A new knowingness shed its light in her soul. She was not going to pretend any longer. That small forlorn girl meant the world to her. If she couldn’t reach out and help her, what did it all mean anyway?
Had it been only a cruel pretense to be taught all of her life to believe she was a co-creator with God?
Shaking her head, she spotted a park bench nearby.
As she sat down, she asked Divine Providence, “Why does the world have to be like this? Why does that little girl have to suffer?”
She had always known deep within her that a better world was just waiting to be brought into being. Now the longing to bring this better world into being began burning like a comforting but raging fire, consuming her.
She sensed her face burning red.
Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she pretended to reach down and get something out of her satchel. That is when she noticed the legs of a man approaching and standing before her.
Very shy, she waited for him to leave.
He waited longer.
Finally, she cleared her throat, looking up at him.
He gazed down quietly at her, in stillness and silence, slightly smiling.
Then, like a bolt of lightening, electricity filled the air.
Lightning energy grabbed ahold of her.
As it did, wonderful feelings flowed through her and she did something very strange. She lifted up her arm and gave him her hand, as if she had known him forever. Gently, he helped her to her feet.
Then the blood rushed to her head as she felt like the top of her head had blown off. Her crown chakra was wide open. The heavens shone down upon her.
A bolt of lightning shot up her body and then up into the strange and glorious lights shining above her.
He steadied her as the dizzying rush of energy continued and got stronger and stronger.
Eternity seemed to pass by them.
Finally, a deep peace brought closure. When she came back to ordinary consciousness, she saw only his back as he walked slowly away. Then she noticed that lying next to her was a strange book.
Holding the slender volume in her hand, she opened the cover and saw the title: “The Path of the Master”, by Brother Barnabus. Copyright 1942.
Trembling, she turned the page. She became absorbed. It was a tale of a person just like herself who had found a school of enlightened teachers and then went on to become a savior of the lost and wounded during a terrible war. She wolfed down every sentence, every word.
Later that afternoon she felt very different. She realized that she could do exactly what the heroine in the book had done.
She began to realize that reality was not a chaotic complex of confusion but was living, willing, malleable creative substance just waiting for an artisan to mold it, to form it, to make it into something soft and beautiful.
She closed her eyes and summoned up a vivid image of the delapidated houses and the forlorn little girl. Closing her eyes more tightly, she imagined the golden light that had engulfed her earlier engulfing that entire street. She imagined the little girl being filled with the purest, whitest, holiest cores of the celestial lights. She felt beautiful divine feelings flowing inside of her and the child.
She focused on the images and the feelings for what seemed a long long time , and rejoiced as they got stronger and clearer .
She called on the heavenly hosts to assist and add their creative energy to hers.
She finally opened her eyes, noticing that twilight had almost arrived.
It was time to go home.
Walking along, she glanced again down the street where the little girl lived.
The street was quieter now. There were feelings of stillness and peace that had not been there before.
She noticed a shaft of the setting sun illuminating a daffodil blooming outside the fence where the little girl lived.
Even greater feelings of grace and mercy blessed her. Later that night she dreamed a wonderful dream of the little girl laughing and playing with a butterfly that had landed on the daffodil.
Later that week, on a bright and sunny afternoon, she was passing by again and saw the little girl out playing in her small front yard. There was a new happy puppy, and her little brother was with her. They were laughing. She noticed a rubber ball on the ground, and a few new toys lying about.
Feelings of peacefullnessand profound gratitude flooded her. With an intuitive certainty that only a master can know, she knew that everything was okay.
She knew that the lives in that household, and all of the lives on that street, had been turned around by blessings of the holy spirit.
The old realities of anger and despair had been replaced. Over the next months and years as she got her degree, she watched the people on that street blossom and grow.
How beautiful are the miracles that flow from faith and asking.
“Ask and ye shall receive.”