Teachings and Discourses of Rumi (Part 7.)
“Owing as much to the extent of his inner treasure as to his external wealth he was called the King of the Entire World and would regularly share his bounty with others. Every day he gave away gold — one day to the sick, on another to the destitute, on others to widows, orphans, even businessmen, lawyers, and priests.
The King of the World would give freely to all, with the one stipulation that all recipients must receive their gifts in silence.
Now there was a certain man, a lawyer, who could not restrain himself from appealing vocally to the King and so he was rebuffed. But the man did not give up his efforts and appeared the very next day before the King in the guise of an invalid. Of course, the King was All-knowing and was not fooled. The man was again turned away.
This went on for some days more, the man appearing in different disguises, being found out, and then turned away. Finally, the man struck a bargain with an undertaker to wrap him in a burial shroud and place him in the path of the King. This was done and when the King passed by he dropped a gold piece upon the shroud.
The man grabbed it immediately and could not restrain himself from telling the King, “You denied me your bounty, but see how I have tricked you!”
To this the King smiled and replied, “Man must die before he dies and by your trick you have died before you died and so have gained the treasure.” — The Masnavi of Rumi
Hamid sighed deeply and said to his friend. “I am an old man; I have no interest in gold or things of this world.”
“Ah,” replied his friend, “the stories of Rumi are very deep, very deep. Our King is no ordinary King, His gold is no ordinary gold, and the death before dieing of which he speaks is devoid of dust, decay, or resurrection.”
“That is the death my soul longs for,” said Hamid.
“To have such a death is a gift; in no other way can that real death, that Final Fana, be attained.”
“And how can I become worthy of such a gift?” Hamid said and shook his head.
“If it was a question of worthiness, then few would attain it. One must be either totally empty or totally forgetful. Of the two, forgetfulness is the better option.”
“Forgetfullness?” asked Hamid with another sigh. His friend took a sip of tea and said,
“There was once a man who wished to see the King. And so he set out walking, but hadn’t gone very far at all when he was approached by a friend who said, ‘I hear you are going to the King; please take this message to him for me.’ The man agreed and folded up the message and stuffed it into his pocket. ‘Now don’t forget,’ implored the friend. ‘I will not forget,’ the man assured his friend.
The man continued on and soon was stopped again, and again was given a message to take to the King, and again he stuffed it into his pocket and promised he would not forget.
The man was stopped many times along the way and by the time he arrived at the Darbar of the King his pockets were stuffed to overflowing, but when he entered the Darbar and saw the King in all His Divine glory and resplendence, he was totally overwhelmed and fell unconscious on the floor.
The King saw him and said to His attendants. “Look at that man. He has lost all consciousness in the sight of Me. Come, let us see.” And the King rose from His throne and went to the man and kneeled before him. “Look at this,” He said to His attendants, and began to withdraw, one at a time, all of the notes that were stuffed in the man’s pockets; and each message he opened, and read, and attended to, with perfect attention in His invisible way.” — A story attributed to Rumi.
(To be continued…)
The King of the World would give freely to all, with the one stipulation that all recipients must receive their gifts in silence.
Now there was a certain man, a lawyer, who could not restrain himself from appealing vocally to the King and so he was rebuffed. But the man did not give up his efforts and appeared the very next day before the King in the guise of an invalid. Of course, the King was All-knowing and was not fooled. The man was again turned away.
This went on for some days more, the man appearing in different disguises, being found out, and then turned away. Finally, the man struck a bargain with an undertaker to wrap him in a burial shroud and place him in the path of the King. This was done and when the King passed by he dropped a gold piece upon the shroud.
The man grabbed it immediately and could not restrain himself from telling the King, “You denied me your bounty, but see how I have tricked you!”
To this the King smiled and replied, “Man must die before he dies and by your trick you have died before you died and so have gained the treasure.” — The Masnavi of Rumi
Hamid sighed deeply and said to his friend. “I am an old man; I have no interest in gold or things of this world.”
“Ah,” replied his friend, “the stories of Rumi are very deep, very deep. Our King is no ordinary King, His gold is no ordinary gold, and the death before dieing of which he speaks is devoid of dust, decay, or resurrection.”
“That is the death my soul longs for,” said Hamid.
“To have such a death is a gift; in no other way can that real death, that Final Fana, be attained.”
“And how can I become worthy of such a gift?” Hamid said and shook his head.
“If it was a question of worthiness, then few would attain it. One must be either totally empty or totally forgetful. Of the two, forgetfulness is the better option.”
“Forgetfullness?” asked Hamid with another sigh. His friend took a sip of tea and said,
“There was once a man who wished to see the King. And so he set out walking, but hadn’t gone very far at all when he was approached by a friend who said, ‘I hear you are going to the King; please take this message to him for me.’ The man agreed and folded up the message and stuffed it into his pocket. ‘Now don’t forget,’ implored the friend. ‘I will not forget,’ the man assured his friend.
The man continued on and soon was stopped again, and again was given a message to take to the King, and again he stuffed it into his pocket and promised he would not forget.
The man was stopped many times along the way and by the time he arrived at the Darbar of the King his pockets were stuffed to overflowing, but when he entered the Darbar and saw the King in all His Divine glory and resplendence, he was totally overwhelmed and fell unconscious on the floor.
The King saw him and said to His attendants. “Look at that man. He has lost all consciousness in the sight of Me. Come, let us see.” And the King rose from His throne and went to the man and kneeled before him. “Look at this,” He said to His attendants, and began to withdraw, one at a time, all of the notes that were stuffed in the man’s pockets; and each message he opened, and read, and attended to, with perfect attention in His invisible way.” — A story attributed to Rumi.
(To be continued…)
posted by Michael Kovitz at 8:03 AM
1 Comments:
being worthy is the idea that struck me reading this post.
Because we cannot be worthy, there is grace. Grace is a gift given in love, and we often don't know what to do with it! :-) And it's not just a "feel good" thing.
Kathleen Norris says, "For grace to be grace, it must give us things we didn't know we needed and take us places where we didn't know we didn't want to go. As we stumble through the crazily altered landscape of our lives, we find that God is enjoying our attention as never before."
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