Chapter 36: The Miracle of the Flower
The other day I had narrated an event, and yesterday you replied in your own way. The event, the question and answer, is known to you and me only. Now I can understand what must have transpired between Buddha and the disciple Mahakashyapa. Beloved, beautiful Osho, it’s not the language but the silence that has and had asked, that has answered and had answered. Words are not spoken, but I have listened. There was a flower between Buddha and the disciple Mahakashyapa. Between you and me there was something else. You know and I know what it was - something that you brought and gave, and something that I received. Everybody has seen it, and yet no one knows it. The disciple Mahakashyapa laughed, and I shed tears. My beloved, beautiful lord, my heart bows down to you full of gratitude and thankfulness, and eyes full of tears of joy and happiness. The event is repeated again on September the twenty-second, nineteen eighty-six. Let this be recorded. Would you like to comment?
Govind Siddharth, the laughter of Mahakashyapa and the tears of yours, do not mean different things. Perhaps you laughed more deeply than Mahakashyapa. When laughter is abysmal, it can only come out into tears - tears of joy, tears of gratitude, tears of blissfulness.
Yes, something has transpired between me and you. And the date that you are giving is absolutely accurate; it will be on record.
The master can give only something which cannot be seen by the ordinary eyes.
Even though Gautam Buddha had given the flower to Mahakashyapa, it was not the flower that made him laugh, it was something else. The flower was just an excuse. Everybody saw the flower. Only a few - those who had eyes to see the invisible and to hear the unsaid - were able to understand that the flower was not the real thing, it was a cover-up.
And for twenty-five centuries, mystics have been discussing what was really transmitted. It cannot be just the flower; the flower can be given to anybody. Something else was given. But Buddha was very kind, even to those who are blind. If he had not given the flower and just transmitted the wordless message, Mahakashyapa would have laughed all the same. But the people who could not see the invisible would have thought either that Mahakashyapa was mad, or would have felt ashamed that they could not see what had transpired between the master and the greatest disciple.
After twenty-five centuries man has come of age; and I hope that I can transfer the unseeable without hiding it behind an excuse. Neither has Govind Siddharth to feel ashamed for his tears, nor do the others have to feel that he must be mad because they can’t see anything happening - and particularly in this temple of the mystery school. Only those few people are present who will understand at least the possibility of something mysterious, miraculous happening. You are here only for that miracle; you are not here to listen to a talk, to listen to words, theories, philosophies. You are here to taste something of the beyond.
And that day, Govind Siddharth tasted something of the beyond. He experienced the flowering. I have not given a flower to him, but he has experienced the flowering of his inner lotus.
Every one of you, sooner or later, is going to taste, to experience the same mystery.
He has, what Gautam Buddha used to call, “become an elder.” He has arrived to the point which we call enlightenment. And you should rejoice in it, because one of you becoming enlightened makes it easier for you to become enlightened, makes it possible, brings it within your reach.