SAINT GERMAIN SHARES HIS EXPERIENCES AS CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS
Christopher Columbus at the royal court of Spain, presenting his request to Queen Isabella I and Ferdinand V and a gathering of courtiers.
BELOVED SAINT GERMAIN RECALLS HIS LIFE AS CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS
Beloved Saint Germain, on board S.S. “Florida,” Miami to Cuba
“…When lifestreams believe in and have faith in the vision of another, they form a mighty pillar of sustained energy, to hold the consciousness that bears the vision high, and that feeling of trusted and trustful friends was the victory of Jesus and Morya and Kuthumi and myself, and every one of us who finally stepped over the threshold into freedom. Life and love do not forget, and we who live beyond the veil do not forget fidelity and constancy.”
It is many a long year since I felt the swell of the ocean beneath my feet as I paced the deck of a boat, but the barque that I refer to (the “Santa Maria”) was not as seaworthy as the one that carries your precious selves tonight, and yet it seems but yesterday that I trod the uneven boards that comprised the deck—looking at a horizon that would not yield a shoreline.
Long after the hands had retired at night did I pace that deck, with the taste of the salt-spray upon my lips, as my eyes endeavored to fashion out of the clouds, out of the heaving billows, out of fancy, a land that I was sure existed as I was sure that I had a hand of flesh and feet that balanced against the roll of the sea that I might stand erect. And yet, the spirit within me sagged as the days rolled into weeks, and the calculations I had made so carefully did not yield the goal toward which I had set my consciousness and into which I had woven the reluctant energies of men of vision who, believing in my purpose, chose to forgo the security and safety of the known European Continent, and against the almost superhuman ignorance of that day, ventured forth upon my word.
It is not a pleasurable experience to engage the life interests and the bodily safety of men, and then, in the darkness of the night—upon a chartless sea—question your own faith, knowing that not only your own, but the well-being and salvation of others, depended upon the accuracy of your perception.
Can you believe that power that lies within a vision before it becomes an accepted fact? Do you know what it is to thrill to that vision before the substance of the appearance world has yielded proof of its reality?
All this has long since passed for me, but you, again, are weaving your life energies into a vision of a free people. You, too, are on the uncharted spiritual seas, engaged on a high adventure, with sails unfurled and vision set toward an unknown shore. You have felt the exhilaration that precedes a new journey—you have felt the despondency and uncertainty that is characteristic of the unascended consciousness, and which clings so powerfully to form.
To you I bring the conviction of my own faith in my vision, for one day the horizon did yield land, and one day a green island swam before my misted eyes. One day the sun reflected on the waving palms. One day the land birds flew over the salt-encrusted masts. One day my heart leapt to find my vision fact, and at the same time my knees bent in gratitude to God for sustaining our course westward in the face of almost insurmountable odds.
So shall it be in your experience, and in that of others who have touched the fringe of a God-free people, where disease, death, decay and dissolution are no longer the heritage of the human bodies of men. This vision seems as fantastic now as a globular world was to the peoples of the fifteenth century, but nevertheless as surely a predictable fact in the future.
You believed me then, you within this room, who sailed with me across those uncharted seas. You shared in my despair and you shared in my victory. You were within the secret circle, who examined with me, each night, the length and course of our daily journey set down in the private log I carried and wherein I writ my knowledge of the sea we had traversed, although we kept another log for the sailors, lest, in fright, at knowing how far we had come from my calculated goal, they would refuse to continue on—and on—and on.
In the hold of the ship, in a cabin much smaller than this, we sat the night the compass “failed,” not knowing that as we turned and sailed due west instead of north, the Polar Star would affect the needle. In looking at it that night, we felt that our last hope was gone, and yet, when we faced the men the next day, we could not tell them that we were no longer northward bound, lest they become more discouraged than they already were. Remember you, that hour? I shall never forget it through all eternity. Yet, despite that small irreconcilable “defect,” we did find land.
Beloved (referring to chela present—Ed.), you were not among that group, but in a monastery in the heart of Spain. I left my son with you. It was through your intervention that I gained access to Isabella’s throne, and tonight I give to you my hand in love and gratitude for that service, for opening to me the ear, the heart and the purse that enabled me to outfit my small number of ships and their crew.
You (referring to chela present—Ed.) were among my friends. You saw San Salvador. You saw Cuba. You shared my personal agony, and you shared with me the joy I felt at the hot sand beneath our feet, the paradise of the good, steady earth after the toll of the sea, the restful green of grass and shrub after the grey, billowy waters of the wide Atlantic. Truly, this night brings memories to my heart, and brings warm remembrance to you, my friends!
When we enter the consciousness of a group of people who have shared a cooperative endeavor, it stirs for us the great book of memory, and we can unfold from the history of our lives much of pleasure, and in so doing bring to you the specific radiation of that flame and ray which is ours to give. This I do for you tonight!
Strange, how the creaking of the boards and the roll of the ship bring me back to that sense of oneness in a shared danger, in a shared companionship, and it gives me a sense of security in knowing that my work is in the hands of those who have shared and cooperated with my vision for centuries, in the safe compass of the heart’s love, who proved their friendship in the world of form, while yet it was filled with the errors that are the heritage of the human consciousness. It makes me happy that through that misted consciousness in which you still function, you are kind enough to perceive and give me an opportunity to share with you an essential truth.
When lifestreams believe in and have faith in the vision of another, they form a mighty pillar of sustained energy, to hold the consciousness that bears the vision high, and that feeling of trusted and trustful friends was the victory of Jesus and Morya and Kuthumi and myself, and every one of us who finally stepped over the threshold into freedom. Life and love do not forget, and we who live beyond the veil do not forget fidelity and constancy.