Hazrat Inayat Khan continues his evocation of the nature and qualities of the Messenger begun in the previous post.
The claim of Christhood seemed to the people too great for Jesus; that is why he was crucified by the intolerant world. Christ was not crucified because the people of his time were unevolved, but because it is always difficult to live among people above whose standard of goodness one has risen. If Christ appeared today with the claim of Christhood, even today he would be crucified. Christ cannot be without the cross, nor can the cross be without Christ. Christ and cross both stand together.
What is asked of a messenger is to be as fine as a silken thread, that he may tune his lute as high as he chooses; and yet to be as strong as the gut string, so that he may endure the wear and tear of life in the world. To be so tender as to respond to every call for sympathy, and to be so firm as to bear all things. To be in the world and yet not of the world. To live and not to live, for the Lord God alone lives.
What does the prophet bring? Does he bring new doctrines, new teachings, and new laws? He does, and yet he does not, for there is nothing new under the sun, and it is ever the same law which he comes to fulfil. When the need is there, the prophet cries aloud that which has always been whispered gently by the lips of the wise of all ages. Beyond and above the words, he brings the light which clears things, making them simple and as if they had always been known to the soul on earth; he brings life, revivifying the hearts and souls which otherwise are like dry bones in the grave of the human body. Yes, the prophet brings a religion, but that is not all: what he really brings to earth is the living God, who is otherwise hidden in the heavens.
And who is the Master? He is seen by all, and yet not really seen. He is known to many, and yet recognized by few. He speaks to all, yet his silence quickens every soul. Most attached is he, and yet detached; most interested, and yet indifferent. Sad of disposition, and yet most joyful; poor as man can be, and yet so rich. King in his soul, he yet walks with the bowl of the beggar in his hand from door to door. Warning of danger and consoling the broken-hearted, comrade of the youthful and friend of the aged, master of life within and without, yet the servant of all. Such is the being of the Master. He is man in the sight of man, but God in the Being of God.
To be continued…