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Chapter 8: I Treat Jesus as a Poet

Your eyes are very choosy. If you are waiting for a friend, then even in a crowd you can see him. But if you are not waiting for him, if you have completely forgotten about him, then when he comes and knocks on the door, for a moment you are puzzled: who is he?

They had settled the fact that Jesus was dead, so when Jesus came across their path they could not recognize him, they could not see him. It is even said that he walked for miles with two disciples while they talked about Jesus’ death. They were very miserable because of it - and Jesus was walking with them, they were talking to him! But they could not recognize him. Only love can recognize, even after death - because love recognized when you were alive. For love, death and life are irrelevant.

Jesus was recognized first by Mary Magdalena, a prostitute. She came running to the male disciples who were holding a great conference: What to do? How to spread the word to the whole world? How to create the church?

When they were planning for the future, she came running and said, “What are you doing? Jesus is alive!”

They laughed. They said, “Mad woman, you must have imagined it!” - man’s mind always thinks that such things are imagination. They started talking to each other: “That poor woman, Mary Magdalena. She has gone mad. Jesus’ crucifixion has been such a shock to her.” They felt pity on her.

She insisted, “Don’t feel pity on me. Jesus is resurrected!”

They laughed and they said, “We understand. You need rest, you are too shocked by the fact that he is dead. It is your imagination.”

Around Buddha, around Krishna, around Jesus, Mahavira, there have always been a great number of women. They were the first-comers, they were the first disciples. It is natural. So don’t be surprised.

Two thousand, or two million years.the human mind will remain the same. Humanity as a whole remains the same. The revolution is individual; you can be transformed as an individual. Then you go beyond the crowd. But don’t be worried about such things.

This question is from Chaitanya Sagar. He’s always worried about such things. I never answer him, but he’s always worried: worried about others, worried about the world, he is worried about the organization, worried about the ashram, worried about my disciples, worried about me - never worried about himself. All these worries won’t help. Time is short, life is very short. Use it.

Just the other night I was reading a play by Samuel Beckett: a small book, the smallest possible in the world - a short play. The name of the play is Breath. The length of the whole play is only thirty seconds.thirty seconds! There is no actor in it, no dialogue. Just a stage.