Unity in Spirit

“There is one God,

I and my Father are one.”

Hail to thee, my brother!

Friend of heart and soul—

Father, sister, mother,

Part and yet the whole.

In the past I knew thee,

When thou wast a flower

On my stem I bore thee,

Blossom of an hour.

In the “Now” behold me

Hidden in thy breast;

In the life around thee,

Both as host and guest.

I and thou transfigured,

Thou and I become;

Unity prefigured,

For we two are one.

We have already explained why the unity spheres are so-called. The unity consists in the reconcilement of man with himself and in the first unfoldings of the true oneness of his nature.

Man in his earthly stage is often if not always conscious of warring elements in himself, of opposing forces which are sometimes so evenly balanced that he cannot control one by the other but is torn by the conflicting powers. Paul has stated this experience so fully and clearly that his words must always be the textbook on this subject. It is not the power of thinking of ourselves as of a separate entity that now passes away but it is the discord that is merged in harmony and the sense of impotency that vanishes, being replaced by the strength that comes from this true unity. The consciousness that we cannot do the good we wish, nor refrain from the weakness that we despise—this it is that saddens our earthly life and makes us at times think we are only mortal and human, instead of immortal and divine. All such discords pass away in the unity spheres—the spirit was being prepared for it in the Hades state, for there it found the “will ” could do much, now it can do all things. “United to me ye can do all things, severed from me ye can do nothing.” Be at one with true manhood and all things are possible but severed from the true and living vine ye can do nothing.

It is true that the man, though at peace with himself, is not yet perfect—there are still many traits to be developed and perchance some evil yet to be burned away—how, then, can there be this concord; does light have any agreement with darkness? The imperfect and undeveloped parts of his being are in abeyance and remain so for awhile until he passes into the next sphere; while those parts that are “ripe ” are strengthened and brought into play. So the words of John or rather of Jesus to John may be understood. “He that is holy, he that is righteous and he that is filthy, let him be so still.” That is if I am not yet thoroughly clean or true or again, if I am holy but not yet truly loving I do not become so here, in this sphere, but other qualities are being tested and strengthened and the fire of deep experience will burn away the dross in good time. All that is evil is left without the gates of the city and the man, perhaps bereft of his right hand or his right eye (for a time) enters into the city where nothing can defile and where all tears are wiped away.

This is the time or rather this is the point in the soul’s history spoken of in John’s revelation when evil is bound for a thousand years and when the redeemed part of the man enters the perfect state (typified by the 144,000 who wear white robes)—while that part, which is yet imperfect remains in abeyance and is spoken of as cast into the fire or left without the gates of the city. The perfection, you will understand, is partial, though complete as far as it goes. There comes a pause in the conflict with the evil and discordant elements and in the calm and sunlight of this peace he grows and is strengthened rapidly.

Though he is no longer out of harmony with his surroundings, this is not to imply that there is no conflict or growth—his powers may be taxed to their utmost but not beyond; the strength is always sufficient to the day and he grows as a plant might, the surroundings of which were perfectly suited to its needs. All his powers are living, in motion, not intermittently but constantly—this is a very high development of life.

In the “spheres” action as outward or in the least degree differentiated from the being has no place. The spirit does not need to help his brother; he is help. He does not love his neighbour, he is love. He does not show mercy; he is mercy. No sun of benevolence shines in the city of his spirit; he himself, the Lamb, the Man is the light thereof. No sea of cleansing pity breaks on the shore of his being, for he himself is pity. From his spirit’s centre, all rays go forth; yet they are not cut off from him—the rays are himself and he is the rays. One does not say to his brother I and thou; for thou and I are one and there is no difference.

Yet there is nothing vague, hazy, passionless in this state; the man as he grows more and more into the God is not less alive but more—the infinite contains in itself the finite and the God has the man in his bosom.

This new being is well typified by the Seer who, when he wants to illustrate the vision speaks of the spirit as all eyes within and without and when he speaks of motion and activity speaks of him as all wheels within wheels; that perfect circle of life whose centre is absolute rest.

Further, the pneuma does not make his environment, he and it are one. He does not make anything, he creates and he is at once the creature and the creator—“I and my Father are one.”