The Impact of a Saint

A personal remembrance in words of the Master’s visit to New England in October 1963
Russell Perkins

So long, so long ago it seems—those glorious days in October that Master came to New England and transformed my life.

My life Judith and I had been initiated in 1958, but despite a strong impetus before, during, and after initiation, after a year and a half of increasingly half-hearted practice we “left that Path” and lived a worldly life for two years. Then, having been pulled back by Master’s inexorable long rope, we discovered that the fruit of prolonged abstinence from meditation and true living was absolute darkness and silence. I can still remember the shock I felt the first time I sat down for Bhajan after two years without it, and heard nothing—nothing at all. With a rush I saw just how foolish I had been and what I had thrown away. But it was too late; what I had been given, I had lost, and since I could no longer fool myself into thinking that a worldly life was sufficient, I had no choice but to keep sitting and wait for Master to life the veil. Eventfully, the Sound was restored to me; but for two long years I sat in darkness, with just one or two exceptions.

Mater arrived in the United States on September 1, 1963, a Sunday; and although we missed the first sight of Him at the airport, we saw Him later that same day. I think everyone can imagine the excitement and anticipation mixed with a little fear (suppose he wasn’t what he was supposed to be?) that was with us all during the long trip from New Hampshire down to Washington. When we got there it was about 3:30 p.m., and Mr. Khanna told us that Master was just leaving for the Friends Meeting House to hold Satsang, and we could follow Him over. We jumped in the car, backed into a driveway across the street so that we were facing the house directly, and just at that instant Master came out! We had a marvelous darshan for just half a minute; even now, after seeing Him coming out of the house and getting into the car. Just the way He held His magnificent head and walked our was moving beyond words. At sight of Him, Judith burst into tears; and I was overwhelmed with a sense of my own triviality. Seeing Him, I understood instantly why the books lay such stress on the Company of Saints.

Master stayed in Washington for 27 days, but we were only there for three of them; He had agreed to spend a day and night at out home in New Hampshire (then called “Sant Bani Farm”) and the house was badly in need of a great deal of work before it would be fit for Him. The night we were due to leave, He granted us a very sweet darshan in His room, gave us prashad, and talked lovingly about coming to our farm. He also told us firmly that we should stay over and attend the meditation. He was conducting the next morning. We did.

I had never attended a group meditation conducted by the Master before, and was totally unprepared for this one (the first of the 1963 tour). After giving us really excellent instructions, He left the room for an hour while we sat; on returning, He questioned each person individually at to what he had seen! The problem was, as unusual, I had seen nothing; I hadn’t expected anything different really; it didn’t bother me, because it was what I was used to. I noticed, however, with a real sense of foreboding, that out of hundred people or so in the room, I was one of maybe four that hadn’t seen any light at all. Person after person reeled off their experiences while listened incredulously; even my own wife had had an experience! But not me.

By the time Master reached me, I had irrationally worked myself up into some kind of weird depression in which I was blaming Master for not giving me anything. He looked at me. “Yes?” “Nothing sir” (sullenly). “Nothing?” “Nothing.” He fixed me with the most penetrating gaze I had ever seen. “Why not?” “I don’t know, sir.” “Were you conscious of your breathing?” “No, sir.” “Did you have a headache?” “No, sir.” “Then why not?” “I do not know, sir.” (In my heart I was thinking, Aren’t you supposed to know that? Isn’t it your fault?) Master looked at me again. Oh, God, that gaze! “Everyone else has had this thing; why not you?” I was defeated; I said weakly, “I don’t know, sir.” He looked at me again. “Are you initiated?” (Oh God, I thought, Oh God! Doesn’t he know whether I’m initiated or not? Oh God, oh God!) “Yes, sir.” “Did you have an experience when you were initiated?” “Yes, sir.” “If you had then, why not now?” “I don’t know, sir.” He looked at me again, a long, long look. “All right; go and sit over there; I will give you another sitting later.” I did go over and sit with the others, but I did not get another sitting; we had to leave too soon. In the car on the way home, all the pent-up rag and frustration and humiliation burst through, and for many minutes I am afraid that I cursed the name of the Son of God; I can say this because I know that he has long since forgiven me.

(Later of course it became perfectly clear to me what Master had been doing with me in those minutes: He had been giving me a crash course in humanity and ego-smashing which I desperately needed if there was to be any hope for me at all. He know perfectly well, of course, exactly who I was and I was initiated or not; just the nigh before he had assured me that he would come to our farm! But every one of his questions was aimed at breaking down a very hard rock of arrogance, which was effectively preventing any further development. Just two nights previously I had been introduced as group leader, much to my ego’s satisfaction; to be asked by the Master Himself in front of the same people of I was initiated or not was so humiliating it was unbearable. But Masters don’t fool around; they look into the heart of the disciple and give him what is required in order to bring about the greatest possible growth.)

Eventfully, I calmed down, and even the nightmare of those minutes faded away; remaining were the very moving recollections of the way Master looked as he moved about, the loving darshan that He had given us, and the sense of timelessness that had pervaded the whole stay; as though we had stepped out of the modern world for a few days. Anyway, we had a great great deal of work to do, preparing for His visit; so much work that there was literally no time for morbidity. We worked day and night; I had left my job and Judith and I did nothing but work on the house for twelve or fourteen hours a day. My meditations, which were no good anyway were forgotten about (Judith kept hers up by getting by with two hours of sleep a night—literally); all sense of a future was lost—as far as we were concerned, the world ended on Octobver11 (the day Master was coming). Those were difficult day in many ways, but I thin they were the happiest days of my life up to that point, despite the fat that the repairs on the house involved out going into debt with absolutely No assurance of being able to pay it back. But we could see only one thing—the Master was coming!

The next time we saw him was in Boston at Mildred Prendergast’s house where he was staying.

He was sitting on Millie’s bed, cross-legged. His face seemed sad, and the total effect of His presence was that He seemed too large for the room. He looked at me and asked right away, “How are your meditations?” (Oh, no!) “Not so good.” “Why not?” I started to say, “Because I’ve been working on the house, getting ready for you,” but I didn’t. Somehow, something in me knew better. He looked at me. “Are you initiated?” This time, half of my mind gave up and spun off a great distance away. From what seemed like many miles I head my voice say, “Yes, Master.” “When were you initiated?” “May, 1958, Master.” He looked thoughtful. “Five years. That’s long time.” Suddenly I realized that while His words were hard, His tone was a very gentle; and I saw the love in His gaze. He asked me very softly, “What is the use of taking the Initiation if you are not going to do anything with it?” Suddenly the pat of my mind that was away came back, and I felt with that question, It’s going to be all right. I looked at him. My heart was broken in two, but there was that beautiful hope. “No use, Master.” But I was beginning to understand.

That night Master gave the second of three discourses at the Second Church in Boston. It was difficult to follow his talk: the acoustics were bad and there was a decided echo; but if ever a Biblical prophet stood in a Christian church it was that night.

Two days later, on Thursday, October 10 (his last day in Boston, and the day before he came to Sant Bani) he gave Initiation. Something very strong told me to attend that Initiation, and I did. I got up early on a frosty morning and drove down to Boston, my heart singing; Master had given me peace, though I could see no reason for it. At that Initiation, the first ever that I had attended with Master personally conducting, He gave me back everything I had lost and more besides. Never in my life had I swum in the Ocean of Light as I did that blessed golden morning Nectar Boston. “Oh God, thank you, Oh God, thank you, “I kept saying over and over, tears in my eyes. After the sitting the Master came around asking the now initiates what they had seen. He came to the back where we older ones were sitting as asked cheerfully, “Every thing all right here?” I could say nothing; I looked at him and caught his eye, and he twinkled. Oh thank God! Thank God! And it was all Him; He know all about everything and always had!

The following day He came to Sant Bani and our new life in Him began; it is not possible for me to write about the next two days; pictures convey better than words the nature of his visits to Sant Bani and Kirpal Ashram. It was his visit to Sant Bani that made it ashram; in fact, it was he that named it as such; and whatever benefit has been derived from that place has come only from the tremendous charging and impetus that Master gave it in October, 1963. Just before he felt, he was asked when he was coming back; and replied, “I will never leave this place.”

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