Rosicrucian Writings Online
"God Spoke!"By H. Spencer Lewis, F.R.C.
[From The American Rosae Crucis November 1916]
IN our mad ambition to conquer the formidable and attain the very pinnacle of material heights, we lose sight of the little, sweet essentials of life; and it is often in the twilight of life only that we realize we have wandered far away from that narrow road which, after all, leads to the only goal of contentment and peace.
More especially do we wander far from the natural elements of religion. We enter those modern, recently constructed, and as yet untrammeled paths of "interpreted" religion where the true and real God is little or not all considered or understood. We lose sight of the simple laws and words of God and our worship of Him becomes so involved, so complex, so profound, that God actually becomes a stranger to our hearts and consciousness.
Yet God is so close, so near to us, so intimate and so easily understood that we may hear the Divine Voice, feel the Divine Presence and realize the Divine Mind every hour in the day.
I make plea for a return to the simple worship of God. I urge that we unite in an endeavor to realize God, consciously, as a living presence, and to hearken unto the Voice and observe His handiwork.
You have thought that exclamation to be a doctrinal reply from the over-zealous Bible student. You have, perhaps, thought it to be the blind belief of the religious fanatic; or you may have thought it to be the metaphorical reply of the religious idealist.
But, my beloved friends, I have heard God speak; and I say it, declare it, in the coolness of careful thought, without undue fervor or zeal. To me it is beautifully true, wonderful, inspiring, but it is not phenomenal, supernatural or mystic in any sense.
I have wandered idly through a field of daisies, lying in a peaceful valley with the great blue heaven above me, the sun shining brightly, birds light-heartedly passing from bough to bough, all nature gay, bright, sweet and glorious; strife, turmoil and evil far away; nothing around me but goodness and Godliness. And I have felt the oneness of all nature, all God's manifestations; I have forgotten personality of self and individuality of ego; I have lost myself in the simplicity and grandeur--not the complexity and marvels--of all about me. And, I have sat down in the midst of the daisies to try and attune my consciousness with their simplicity. And I have reached out and drawn close to my cheek one of these daisies that I might feel its soft, innocent face against mine, and I have looked into its eyes, its soul. Then--the occasion will ever be remembered--I saw the harmony of its form; the grace of its design, the symmetry of its yellow head, the regularity of its petals, the method of its unfoldment, the simplicity of its anatomy and--God Spoke! Through the daisy God revealed to me in unmistakable language, the infinite wisdom of His mind, the superiority of His ways and His laws.
God spoke! Truly, and I heard, and understood; God spoke as only God can speak. Could man but speak as God speaks--ah! the vanity of the thought. Yet man demands that, to be heard and understood, God must speak in his limited, self-made, finite language, and man, therefore, hears not the voice of God.
The organist, rambling over the keys while his soul expands and vibrates to greater area, hears sweet chords, beautiful notes, harmonious, euphonious arias, peal forth, while he is still unconscious of the mechanical features of his playing. And when he has completed one passage of divine music he knows that God spoke--and in a manner as only God can speak.
The artist, the writer, the sculptor, each has heard the Voice of God and has understood while others seek the Voice in place and manner demanded by doubt, skepticism and "higher criticism".
Watch the little imprisoned gold fish in the crystal aquariums. Let a beam of sunlight strike the silvery surface of the water and refract its rays through the world in which they live and you will soon see the revived activity. Drop some crumbs upon the water and note the instinct of preservation; tap the aquarium suddenly and see the instinctive action of fright, basic law of self-protection manifested. Study the periodicity of breathing of water, then air; analyze the perfect mechanics of motion in swimming, diving, rising and immobility. And, as you do these things God will speak to you and you will learn a lesson as only God can teach.
Look into the eyes of the heart-hungry, poverty-stricken child as it gazes into the windows of the stores at this holiday time. Note its pathetic, quiet, philosophical acceptance of conditions which in truth are making the young heart and mind bleed and ache. And as you look, smile! Take the child into the store and buy for it, give it, those simple--not complex or luxurious--things which it longs for and which our children in their advanced (!) education would spurn; and when those deep set, longing, sweet eyes look up into yours with tears and silently say "thank you," you will know that God spoke--spoke as only God could speak.
And turn your way to the desolate home where the father has not heard the Voice of God but has sought the voice of evil; where the young-old mother is striving to make the widely separated ends meet; where sickness has stricken one child and medicine is unobtainable, and food--of the simple kind, not luxurious--is required for the baby that brought God's voice once to the mother; where all is sad at the time of greatest rejoicing elsewhere. Go there, not to Temple, Church or Cathedral to hear God speak, and give that which you would give with less appreciation to yourself. And, as you sleep in your bed of comfort that night the poor mother's prayers of thankfulness will come to you in the silence of the night; and your soul, your consciousness, will know, if you do not, that God spoke!
And, pass the corner of the busy thoroughfare where time and tide pass so swiftly by; where each in eager pursuit of self satisfying interests see not the lips of God about to speak; where stands upon the corner, 'neath shelter from the cold and storm, the ragged urchin boy urging all to buy his wares; his hands are cold, his feet is wan, his eyes are filled with tears; at home there are a few who wait for his late coming in; he is hungry, too, yet he must not spend one single penny of the fund his mother needs for food; his thoughts are of the family and "sister," his chum and friend; he would gladly sacrifice most anything to take her just a gem; stop there and speak to him, as you pass by, and then go on and return again; this time give him just a big red rose and say: "for 'sister,' lad, as friend to friend"; then watch the eyes enlarge with pride; and see the sorrows flee; you'll find the boy is a man at once, with God-light in his soul. And then, as in your throat you feel that lump, and in your veins a tingle comes, you'll know that somewhere in the aura of your life, God spoke, as only God can speak.
Yes, God speaks, and He has spoken to me. God waits and waits to speak to you and if in this life you give no chance for interview, a time will come, when life is done, that through the sorrows, pains and lessons of the past, your soul will feel, your heart will know, your mind will hear and you shall find that God did speak at last as Father to His child.
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