God: A Story of Revelation (Enlightenment Collection Book 4)

by Deepak Chopra

One comfort to the mayor was that his daughter would never learn to read and write. There is no better protector of faith than ignorance.

We stew in our sins, knowing that divine punishment is certain while divine love never arrives.”

All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well,

“I praise all of God’s creations. It can’t be that one part is perfect and the other part diseased. We are pained by knowing that we have sinned. That pain was given to us to show where we have lost love. If we listen to our own pain, we will find a way through to love once more. Sin is repaid by bliss.”

“We are led by every sign, by everything that happens to us, toward love.

That is why all is well. That is why all shall be well.

“Too many people have told you that your soul was in danger. Before you believe anyone, ask if they have ever seen their own souls.”

The romance of being in the world but not of it—which is the essential romance of mysticism—clashes with harsh social reality.

We may never come to the full knowing of God till we know first clearly our own Soul.

She is someone who had to figure out, as every seeker

must, how to live in the world with such extraordinary knowledge.

Each religion is like a training program for dropping the shell of mortality in order to live in the gleaming sheath of immortality.

He couldn’t blame the earth for his troubles. Perhaps the times were to blame.

written other controversial things: that infinite stars shone in the sky, each one a planet with human life on it; that all things were made of God, not just by God; that in every man, even the grossest sinner, divine light is present.

I am as safe as my thoughts, he

‘The true redemption should be the liberation of the soul from error, so that it can reach union with God’.”

had believed that all sins are steps away from the light, all redemption steps toward it.

To question God is to move closer to him.”

Faith and science began as enemies, because facts threatened to depose faith. This threat was clear to the Church authorities who pounced on scientific breakthroughs as if they were heresies. A fact cannot be a heresy unless you force it to be.

He saw what other mystics had seen, that nature is a field of light emanating from the Godhead.

Everywhere there is incessant relative change in position throughout the universe, and the observer is always at the center of things.

The Divine Light is always in man, presenting itself to the senses and to the comprehension, but man rejects it.

The unit of light is the photon, and physics recognizes that all interactions responsible for matter and energy in the cosmos involve the photon. In other words,

human beings exist in the field of light, and our bodies, quite literally, came from stardust.

Going even farther, some farsighted physicists wonder if the universe has a mind; to them, it acts like a living being as it evolves and...

The human brain, so far as we know, is the most complex thing in existence. Was it really a product of random chance over the past 13 billion years? To believe in randomness as the only creative force in nature, one physicist quipped, is like sayin...

Guilt has shifted, however, becoming a psychological issue rather than a religious one.

Your fellow man is your mirror. If your own face is clean, the image you perceive will also be flawless.

“You cannot possess God. The mystery remains endless, all the days of our life. But you can feel it inside and cherish that feeling, like a precious pearl.”

His father had retreated into a kind of bemused detachment. Rabi knew this mood very well. It was predictable, in fact. Every time his father waxed passionate about a subject, immediately he seemed to be sucked into himself.

Father and son gazed at the clouds gathering like misty fleece over the far peaks.

Since the mystery

is different for everyone, nobody can tell if they were thinking the same thoughts. At least they shared ...

Rabi had not just grown up under his parents’ noses. He had seen life and love through his mother, as he saw mind and service through his father. Where did these gifts come from? Where did they go?

“I slept and dreamed that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.”

We are all mysteries to ourselves, and when we start to think, we are eavesdropping on messages sent from beyond.

What do I long for? Something that is felt in the night But not seen in the day.

“Do you ever think about God?” Rabi had asked as a boy. “Always. What else is there to think about? The world takes care of itself, no matter how hard people try to run it.”

Every poet is restless. The muse is a demanding mistress. But he had the mystery before him, always to follow, never to capture.

Tagore took his time among the slender trees that seemed like maidens with their delicate leaves swaying in the breeze. He was seventy, and the forest meant more to him than did Hitler.

The real world. It kept racing on its frantic pace, fueled by the next crisis. In such a world, what fuels peace?

In the hubbub Einstein leaned over and whispered. “I memorized a line of yours. ‘We come nearest to greatness when we are great in humility.’ I believe it.”

Human nature is infinite. It can reach the divine.

It wasn’t his brain that had unfolded relativity; it was wonder.

As long as God couldn’t be understood, he held power.

Saints were like scientists who journeyed into the unknown and came back to report, through their mystical experiences, that God was real.

Einstein wanted God to exist in some form. He famously said, “Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”

If the building blocks of the universe no longer had any fixed physical properties, turning into ghosts, then why believe that the universe itself was any different?

Tagore declared that the observer creates perceived reality, that absolute truth was unattainable through objective facts.

At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable. Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.