Come unto me
by L. Gurney Parrott
No man can come to me except the Father which hath sent me draw him.
St John 6:44
Those whomsoever God wills are of themselves drawn to the Godman, or the Godman Himself finds them out, no matter where they may be.
These words are true. I know this by experience, not mere belief. This is an account of how I came to the Master, Sant Kirpal Singh, the culmination of a lifetime’s search for God and my first steps on the Spiritual Path.
In 1957, after a two-year sojourn in the Nilgiri Hills, I was leaving Bombay by air for London. I had a chance meeting with a young Indian official at the airport and an occasional exchange of letters with him during the next nine years. The autumn of 1966 found me in Malta trying to adjust myself to a severe bereavement – and failing. I was miserable, off-balance, and quite unable to call upon the Spiritual Power and understanding I thought I had acquired over long years of study and effort.
In this state of mind I wrote to my Bombay friend to say that I was thinking of re-visiting India. I received an enthusiastic reply, including the statement that I must meet his Master, Sant Kirpal Singh, who would be in Bombay during the Christmas week. There followed a tremendous eulogy of his Master that left me quite cold. I had a fairly wide acquaintance with the various books on world religions, especially the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita and the various forms of Yoga. I had also studied the teachings of Sri Ramakrishna Paramhansa and the works of Swami Vivekananda, for which I had great reverence and love.
I had, however, come to the conclusion that whatever Truth there was in these scriptures and personalities, they seemed to be of the past and it was doubtful if they had any relevance to the present. Past Masters there had been, but were there any – was there even one – today? I doubted it. Any how, I was not in a mood for Masters. I knew nothing about Sant Kirpal Singh. I had not even known that my friend had a Master. Such was my mood, but I went ahead with my plans even so. Why? I did not know. For three weeks I tried to get a passage by sea and failed. In a fit of irritation and frustration one day I suddenly decided not to go and wrote to my friend accordingly.
A few days later, however, I was suddenly conscious of a gentle, unseen presence, and distinctly heard a voice say:
Go to India!
Imagination? Perhaps. I immediately went out and bought a return air-ticket for Bombay, where I arrived on 19th of December to a heart-warming reception at the airport.
The next morning my friend took me to the house where the Master was staying. I was still in a critical and unresponsive mood, however, as I stood self-consciously in my socks – having, as custom demanded, discarded my shoes – in a corridor, apathetically watching people bang admitted to the Master in a room at the end of it. I felt rather foolish, very English, an outsider and an intruder, the only European present on that occasion, with not the least idea of what it was all about, and not very optimistic that the Master would even see me, or, if He did, that He would probably have me thrown out. In my then state of mind I had forgotten the words of the Master Jesus:
Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out!
Suddenly, my reverie was broken by a voice at my elbow saying:
The Master will see you now.
I turned, to see a smiling young man in a blue turban, and exclaimed involuntarily:
come this way.
In a turmoil of conflicting thoughts, I followed him.
As I entered the room, a tall strongly-built, white-bearded figure rose from a couch and came forward to greet me, taking both my hands in His, and saying,
This took me by surprise. I had expected something oriental, some pious words, some indication of religiosity, but there was nothing.
There was nothing unusual in His dress – white turban, black three-quarter coat over a white tunic and trousers and slippers – no religious emblem; no prayers; no incense; no music; just a simplicity and a naturalness which of themselves were far more impressive than any pomp or splendour could be.
With gentle courtesy He Himself brought forward an armchair and placed me in it, resuming His seat on the couch. This brought Him well below my level – such is His humility – and I found myself looking down on Him. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with an uprush of emotion and realised that I could not possibly stay in that position and slipped to the floor at His feet. In that moment alone was unconsciously expressed an instant recognition and acceptance of the Spiritual Grace and Power flowing from the Master.
He only smiled and said tranquilly:
Tell me something about yourself.
– You know it already, Master,
What is there to say?
– Never mind,
tell me something and we’ll take it from there!
I tried to speak of my past life but emotion gripped me and I had to stop after a few sentences, fighting for self-control. Seeing my distress, the Master made a small gesture and immediately I was calm again. He went on to speak of the Christ and His teachings, of the Kingdom of Heaven within us and of the Light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world.
When I rose to leave, He said:
Come again tomorrow, early, about 8 o’clock.
Next morning, I found myself one of about seventy or eighty people in a large room, squatting on the floor and I – thanks to the Master’s thoughtfulness – sitting in a chair at the back. The Master sat in an armchair at the front of the assembly with men on His right and women on His left.
In a few simple words He told us that the Master-Power would give us a peep within, and that each one of us would have Spiritual Experience, according to his or her Spiritual Development and receptivity. All we had to do was to introvert our minds, still our thoughts, and focus our attention at a point between the two eyebrows, there to watch and wait quietly and reposefully, without any strain or worry.
It was a stupendous statement. Here in the simplest possible way, again without any of the usual ritualistic accompaniments of an approach to God, was the assertion that by the Master’s Grace alone, our Inner Eye, the Third Eye, would be opened and we should see the Light of God. Only the Power of a Godman – the Word made flesh –, could do it. As I composed myself for the ensuing meditation – and it is not surprising if for some time I failed to control my whirling thoughts – I must confess that I was still watchful and critical, and more than a little sceptical.
Here was a practical demonstration of the Truths taught by all the religions. I was conversant with the theory and here was the practice; yet more incongruous than anything else was the mere fact that I was taking part in it. Could I be blamed for doubting? No one could feel less worthy than I to receive such a gift; it surely was not possible!
For some time so it certainly seemed, for nothing happened and the demon doubt reared again his ugly head. With an effort I dismissed such thoughts and resumed meditation, but not before casting a swift glance around to see if anything unusual was going on! No, there they all were, sitting quietly with eyes closed, and there was the Master sitting in front, and the sunshine was streaming in at the windows and the birds were singing outside. I closed my eyes again.
Suddenly, the Light came within, slowly as the breaking dawn and grew in intensity until it seemed the sun was about to rise above the horizon, and in that Light other manifestations arose about which it is not permitted to speak.
Fortyfive minutes by my watch and the Master closing the meditation asked each person separately and privately what he or she had seen, explaining and commenting. It is not possible to convey my astonished delight, not to say rapture. Here was practical proof of:
Believe not the words of a Master-Soul unless thou seest the things He tells about with thine own eyes.
And if the theory of religion was hereby demonstrated to me in the laboratory of the soul, by Whom had it been accomplished? Who was that apparently ordinary Man Who could impart Spiritual Experience? Who did so as a free gift? Who spoke with authority? But, wait, there was yet another step to be taken before a complete answer could be given, and we were told to assemble again in about an hour for meditation, this time for Sound, the Word, or the Voice of God.
If I was almost stunned by the marvellous revelations in the first meditation, what would happen in the second? Again we assembled and were told to place our hands on our foreheads and insert the thumbs into our ears to exclude outer noises, and to listen without strain to what should manifest itself. For a long time again nothing happened, and then the Sound came, falling into one of five categories. There the most wonderful experience imaginable ended. Impossible to convey the joy and serenity, the certainty of the reality of spirit once it has been seen and heard.
At once comes the corollary of an earlier statement – Who is this Man Who does what He promises in both Vision and Sound Divine?
As I taxied back to my hotel that evening, I suddenly realised that all my misery and sorrow had gone and I was brimming over with happiness. I understood then as never before the meaning of those words:
Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden.
When I got to my room I switched on the light and as I moved round for some reason I closed my eyes, and there before me was the Master in His radiant form, smiling, shining like gold! I opened my eyes and closed them again, and there He was. I opened them and walked round the room amazed, then closed them again, and He was still there. I cried aloud in joy and astonishment:
It is true, it is all true – it is real, it is real.
Christmas-eve, 1966, never to be forgotten!
Footnote: 1) Source: ‘Godman – XV. Master and His Work.’