Book Two

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Servantship
It appears an odd word,
yet within it lies the meaning of sacrifice,
of Love,
of true Being.

What, then,
can we say of sacrifice?

The cloak of ignorance
has been cast off,
the darkness of a solitary thought
dissolved in the simple brilliance
of a Light far brighter
than ten thousand suns,
and the soul of one
who has seen through the vanity
of useless wandering
is again restored
to the place from which
it has not ever ventured forth.

The holy one
is again become first,
and sees that nowhere
is there to be found a second.

I AM the first-born of my Father,
standing before all things.
Moving not,
I travel far.
Embracing all things, I touch myself.

Creation arises within me.
I AM the first and the last,
the alpha and omega.

Fulfilled begond all measure,
I need nothing.
Possessing the whole of Creation,
I desire nothing.

That which has been,
I AM.
That which is,
I AM.
That which shall be,
I AM.

Looking far,
I behold not my ancient beginning.
Gazing near,
I see not my end.

I AM a circle of heavenly Light
embracing all things,
knowing all things,
allowing all things.

My splendor
fills the vastness of space
and is contained
between two thoughts.

The wind is birthed
from my holy breath,
and carries my glory
to all far places.

I AM the power
by which all dreams are dreamt.

I AM the purpose
of all actions performed.

I AM the Way,
the Truth, and the Life,
and the whole of Creation
returns to the Father through me.

I AM the praying,
the prayer,
and the answer.

I AM the dream,
the dreamer,
and her awakening.

I AM the sin,
the sinner,
and the salvation.

I AM the vast ocean
from which
the dew drop arises.

I AM the tear
on the cheek of a newborn
who brings me into form and time.

I AM the words
before your eyes,
the writer,
and the one who even now reads.

I AM the one dreamer
bold enough to imagine
the illusion of separation,
and the one worthy
of releasing the allure of sleep.

I AM,
simply, that,
I AM.

It is this
that the awakened Son proclaims,
without a trace of thought
to obscure the brilliance and purity
of his being.

She looks for herself,
and sees only
the Father.

He reaches to himself,
and embraces only
the whole of Creation.

The glass,
once filled with a momentary thought
of imaginary sustenance,
is again
become the emptiness
overflowing with living waters.

The holy chalice
is raised to her lips.
She drinks eternally,
and is satisfied.

Herein
is the meaning of sacrifice:
Never has there existed
what must be eternally unreal,
and what is not
can be neither lost
nor sacrificed.

What, then,
would you cling
so tightly unto?

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Servantship
is that which arises
when the death
of what could never possibly be
is irrevocably allowed.

It is the perfect heritage
extended from the Father
to the Son,
and is of one substance
with the Mystery
that our Heavenly Father is.

Servantship
requires only
the enactment of sacrifice,
that sacrifice which is,
from the beginning,
already completed:
the Grace of God.

Our choice to remember
who we are
is the enactment
of that sacrifice
already made in Heaven.

Sacrifice,
when completed,
gives rise to the birth of Love
both unconditional
and incomprehensible,
a Love which can only come
to be truly recognized
when any mind finally,
and irrevocably,
chooses to awaken
from the senseless dream
of the dreamer.

It is not a love tainted
by being directed
to the objects of the world,
nor felt only when a mind
momentarily perceives a satisfaction
born of the temporary organization
of the objects and events it embraces,
for no such love
is truly unconditional.

Therefore,
such love perceived
is not Love at all.

But what arises
is that self-same Love
that is already with us
from before time is,
the Love from which the
Son of God is birthed,
the Love which has already
fulfilled the Atonement
required by the brief -
and meaningless -
thought of separation.

It is that Love
which is
the very presence of God,
who is Love itself,
and only this.

Love seeks not for itself,
but finds its completion
in its eternal
and unreserved extension.

It is a Love
enacted by the Son
which unceasingly mirrors
the Love by which the Father
has begotten the Son.

It is a Love
which gives when asked
and holds nothing for itself.

It is a Love
that embraces all things,
for it sees no separation
in the whole of Creation.

It is a Love
that touches all who behold it
with a gentleness and certainty
whose taste is sweet above honey;
it quenches the thirst of the soul.

And this,
without effort,
for it is a Love
that extends from -
and to -
true Being.

Seeing naught but the substance
of what alone is Real
in all that its eyes rest upon,
it severs with the sword of wisdom
the stranglehold of illusions
from the heart
of the one who beholds
the person of the arisen Christ.

It is not a Love
to be created,
but a Love that has finally
been allowed,
rising without resistance
from the soil of perfect surrender.

The dreamer,
vanquished and reborn,
decrees:

I live,
yet not I,
but Christ,
dwells as me.

And the Word is made flesh,
and dwells among us.

In the world,
but not of the world,
for the world is overcome
not by effort,
but by Grace…
the simple correction
of one mistaken perception.

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Who, then, is the servant?
What is she likened unto?

The servant is free.
No longer fettered
to the tiny fears
once seen as unscalable walls
reaching to block
the Light of the Son,
he loves not the things of the world,
for they hold no value.

The servant is humble.
No longer fettered
to the false arrogance
that once was made
to shield her from her aloneness,
she clings not to false knowledge,
for she knows that she does not know,
nor does she need to.
Trusting all things,
allowing all things,
she transcends all things
by first loving and embracing
all things.
And their passing
leaves not a trace upon her.

The servant is capable.
With no anxiety
for the things of tomorrow,
he enacts
the incomprehensible Love
of the Father in this moment.
Innocent as a child,
he considers not limitation,
for he sees with certainty that:

The works I do
you also shall do,
and greater works than these
shall you do.

He knows simply
that of himself he does nothing,
but the Father through him
does all things.
Where could incapacity arise?

Emptied of herself,
the servant effortlessly
dons the cloak
given her of the Father,
whether the cloak of this world
or another.
She moves freely
between Heaven and Earth,
rejoicing always
as the embodiment
of prayer without ceasing:
“Holy Father, now there is Light!”

The servant
is likened unto one
who has journeyed to a distant land,
for his master had commanded him:

Go, and share with all
who have ears to hear
and eyes to see.

Give to them of my abundance,
and give freely.

Now,
when the servant heard,
she went immediately forth
and was found -
from waking to sleeping -
to be doing
as her master had asked.

And it came to pass
that many who received
secretly laughed
at the folly of the servant.
Many thought him mad,
and many more
either lost or discarded
what he shared with them.

Only a few,
having heard,
received what was given to them
and went and did likewise,
for in their hearing
they became like the servant,
and what they gave away
was returned to them tenfold.

So joyous in her task
was the servant
that she could hear not
the judgments of the small-minded.

Will you choose to have ears to hear?

The servant
is one who has
transcended history.

Quite literally,
she looks upon her past
and sees it, indeed,
as having passed away,
dissolved as mist
before the arising sun
from deep and forested valleys.

Not one dark corner remains
in the valleys of the mind,
cut and shaped by the forces
of limiting thought.

Rivers of radiant Light
flow unimpeded now,
emanating from the ocean of God’s Love,
cascading waterfalls of vision
that embrace the whole of Creation.

Though disguised in simplicity,
the servant sees
his every loving gesture
touching the farthest star,
and participating in the miracle
of the Atonement.

The servant
always recognizes his own.
Herein is revealed
the true body of Christ,
the mystical Church
which far transcends
the loftiest of theologies.
Herein is revealed
the essence of brotherhood.

The servant
seeks out her own
and celebrates with them
without ceasing,
for awakened minds
are eternally joined as one.

The servant is gentle.
Clinging not
to what is not given her to do,
neither anger
nor impatience
arises.

The servant trusts.
Embracing all things,
having given the world
up to his Father,
he is content in this moment.
The whole is present in the part,
and the part embraces the whole.
Forgetting not Heaven,
he blesses Earth,
and even his smile illuminates the world.

With nothing to do,
she does nothing.
With all things to do,
she accomplishes all things -
yet sees not a trace of distinction
between these.

The servant is at peace.
But more:
he is peace.

Receiving doubt,
he returns Love.
Receiving judgment,
she returns Love.
Receiving the projections of fear,
he returns Love.
Receiving love
not yet made wholly pure,
she returns Love.

Receiving Love
given purely,
he allows himself to receive it.

Abiding in unbroken union
with God,
she receives Love
without ceasing.

Though the world gives
and takes away,
his cup is always filled;
he drinks deeply with every breath.
Satiated,
he laughs at the world’s illusions,
and his laughter heals the world.

The servant
is simply incomprehensible
to the perceptions of the world.
For where the world perceives lack,
the servant knows unlimited abundance.
Where the world perceives struggle,
the servant knows perfect harmony.
Where the world perceives
the pressure of time,
the servant knows the grace of eternity.

No reconciliation is possible,
for the things of Heaven and Earth
shall pass away,
but the things of God shall not.

And the first -
made so by the worldshall
be last.

The last -
being the creation of God -
shall again be made first
in the mind of the awakened
joyous,
servant of God,
who is but Love.

As it was in the beginning,
is now,
and forever shall be.

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What, then,
can the qualities
of genuine service
be likened unto?
Observe the waters
that flow from the highest mountains,
winding, cascading, twisting, churning,
resting inevitably in the sea.

Their destination
is neither hoped for, nor imagined.
It is known,
resting always in certainty.
And once the journey has begun,
the end is certain.

The river begins
as but a drop of rain
that falls from the heavens
freely given.

It forms itself in places unseen
and is shaped into a constant flow
that is not interrupted.

Seemingly shaped by the earth it touches,
it becomes the shaper of waterfalls
and canyons;
and what river of living waters
does not speak of beauty
to its beholder?

The river nurtures
all that it touches
with the very sustenance of Life.
It recognizes not obstacles to its journey,
but -
by embracing them -
overcomes them.
Even the sound of its passing
brings respite to those who listen.

It laments not
when others draw from it,
seemingly without gratitude,
for it knows its Source to be unlimited.

The secret of its peace,
and of its certain power, is this:
It already abides at one with the sea,
having arisen from it,
and returning always to it.

No veil of illusion
has arisen in its being
to create a sense of separation.
Therefore,
its journey begins in its certain end.

Let your service be given
like unto the rivers of life
that flow from the highest mountains
to the sea.

Think not you must know
the nature of the journey,
nor that you must judge
whether the twists and turns
are acceptable.

For unto you there is given
the gift of one teacher
whose guidance never errs.
His Voice is certain,
his presence eternal.
Have I not said unto you:
“I will send you a Comforter?”

Yet,
the one whom I send
was received by me of our Father.
Because I have received Him,
He is given unto you equally.
Like an ancient melody,
his Voice is as a gentle song
at once familiar;
silence is the threshold
that carries the heart
to the inner chamber of the Holy One.

To give truly,
one must give all they have.

For to give
while holding one part back
is to believe one has not all things.
And to she who believes she has not,
much will be taken,
while to she who knows she has all,
even more shall be added,
and her giving shall be unlimited
and without end.

She who gives all receives all.

The true servant gives even this:
all traces of attachment
to the fruit of her giving.
For her giving has been already seen
to be from the Father,
and so the fruits are given to her.

Thus the servant proclaims:
“Why do you call me good?
There is only one who is good:
God, who is but Love.
And if you would truly receive
what I would give you,
go, and do likewise.”

Hear again:

He who gives all, receives all.

The servant
gives as he has been given,
but remembers it not.
Caring not for the accolades of the world,
he collects no ribbons,
and keeps no trophy.
But the face of Christ
seen in each he serves
is etched in his awareness forever;
he remembers them
and gives thanks to the Father,
for the servant lives
the simplest of truths:

My brothers and sisters are my salvation.

The servant knows she fixes nothing.
Seeing not a fearful world,
she does not deliver it from “evil.”
Looking not upon illness,
she calls not herself a healer.

Herein,
learn the secret of the miraculous:
The servant does nothing
save to extend Love
to the Christ who dwells in another,
having learned to see
past the appearances
that are the world;
and the one who is ill
recognizes that the servant
has recognized her
as she is, and decrees:
“I am seen as I AM,
and release my illusions now.”

Love heals,
and Love alone.

Those unaccustomed to miracles
run after the servant, asking:
“How do you do these things?”
To which the servant replies:
“Love has done these things.
Of myself,
I only asked that my Father
correct my perception of you.”

Love will flow through any mind
that asks for
and allows
the correction of its perceptions.

How, then,
does the servant serve?

By being only the presence of Love.

The extension of Love,
untainted by the thought of a doer,
is the quality of genuine service,
a reflection in this world
of the Love which begets eternally
the holy and only begotten child of God.

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