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KUTHUMI
WRITTEN ON THE FEAST OF SAINT FRANCIS OF ASSISI
Today, being dedicated to the commemoration of Francis of Assisi, the minds,
hearts and consciousness of many of mankind dwell with kindness, with reverence
and perhaps a little awe, upon that phase of my life expression.
Because this mass consciousness is directed toward the experiences of Francis,
it stirs the etheric and akashic records within my own consciousness and brings
to the fore again the sweetness and beauty that I was privileged to feel through
touching the hem of the Christ Consciousness.
In Assisi, I belonged to a class called by the mind of the senses "the
nobility," which title, however, was shallow and empty of the inner meaning. I
well remember during those gay and carefree clays of my youth how there pressed
upon me from time to time a passing Breath that contained an elusive scent and
feeling of another realm, to which somehow I felt that I had once belonged. As
this experience intensified, the "richness" of my daily life palled upon my
senses and an unrest rose within me that sent me often and more often into the
beautiful countryside where my soul seemed to experience a temporary peace and
this yearning and searching fire within me was, for the time being, assuaged. I
can remember yet, lying on the green grass by the side of a small but very clear
stream and hearing the rustle of the wind in the trees above my head, while my
soul, yet bound to the body, hovered on the brink of eternity... reaching,
reaching, reaching toward an indescribable and unexplainable SOMETHING of which
I knew not, but which my soul in itself sought, knowing no restraint of reason.
Those months and years, when the body and the soul were at odds, were strange
and restless ones, for, when the body sought its pleasures, the soul was
distressed, and when the soul would burst its bonds of flesh, intent upon an
individual search which the reason could not understand, the body, like a sulky
child, restrained its pinioned wings and deliberately set obstacles before its
groping, upward reaching. There was no peace within me, and, according to my
family and friends, there was no peace around me nor in my company, for I was
torn between allegiance to both these factors that seemed determined in
themselves to secure supremacy over my going out and my coming in.
This day I speak of, when the sky was blue and the wind was not aggressive, but
gliding through the trees in playtime fashion, the soul within me (which always
received the greatest impetus in the Cathedral of Nature) was in the ascendancy
and my outer self, like a good-natured baron, contemptuously allowed it a few
hours of freedom. All at once, during her faltering, stumbling flight,
searching, seeking, reaching, there came a great Light and within that Light was
the perfume, the fullness of all that my soul had sought. Within it, also, stood
a Beautiful Being whose outline became clearer as the trembling of my heart was
stilled and then I saw the most beautiful face that ever God created. Then I
somehow knew that in that Majestic Presence I saw myself as I was meant to be
and the words spoken so many centuries before swept through my memory "This is
my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased," and I also realized that this
Shining Vision set before mine eyes was the Father's Example of what all men
should become.
The great Master Jesus (for such he was) did not speak, but yet the love that
poured from his Presence filled me with a courage, a strength and a feeling
that, from the shapeless mass which I yet expressed, there could be fashioned
such a Being as him. I felt the Presence of the Father and I knew that in Jesus
the Father had given us a glorious manifestation of himself, hoping that it
would bring to our remembrance the glory we had with him in the beginning. The
vision vanished and I felt that I was no longer alone but that I had a purpose
and a memory that became the impulse of my life. No longer was there a question,
but that all my being must now be bent toward becoming the son. I knew that not
only the Father, but the Beloved Jesus filled my spirit from that hour
henceforth and all the miracles that have been accredited to "Francis" are but
the blessing of the Holy Trinity, which through me endeavored to bring to
mankind's attention again the example of the Beloved Son in Whom the Father was
well pleased.
Perhaps this simple, homely talk may give you, my friends, a little courage or
comfort, and, perhaps, in a major sense - "Purpose."
May I again offer you the blessing that has become associated with
my name!
May the Lord Bless thee and keep thee.
May he show his face to thee and have mercy on thee.
May He turn his countenance to thee and give thee Peace.
May the Lord bless thee.
Amen.
Kuthumi