KAHLIL GIBRAN
Jesus The Son of Man
I want to include another book by Kahlil Gibran, Jesus, the Son of man. It is one of the books which is almost ignored. Christians ignore it because it calls Jesus the son of man. They not only ignore it, they condemn it. And of course, who else cares about Jesus? If Christians themselves are condemning him, then nobody else cares about it.
Kahlil Gibran is a Syrian from very close to Jerusalem. In fact in the hills of Syria, people – a few people at least – still speak Aramaic, the language of Jesus. Amid those high- reaching cedars, anyone, even a fool, is bound to be amazed, mystified. Kahlil Gibran was born in Syria under the cedars reaching towards the stars. He comes very close in representing the real man Jesus – closer than the four so-called disciples who wrote the gospels. They are more gossips than gospels. Kahlil Gibran is closer, but Christians were angry because he calls Jesus the son of man.
I loved the book. The book related different people′s stories about Jesus: a laborer, a farmer, a fisherman, a taxcollector – yes, even a tax-collector – a man, a woman, all possibilities. It is as if Kahlil Gibran is asking many people about Jesus – the real Jesus, not the Christian Jesus; the real Jesus, made of flesh; and the stories are so beautiful. Each story needs to be meditated upon.
The Madman
Another book by Kahlil Gibran, The Madman. I cannot leave it out, although I confess I wanted to. I wanted to leave it out because I am that madman about whom he is talking. But I cannot leave it out. He talks so meaningfully, so authentically about the very innermost core of the madman. And this madman is no ordinary madman, but a Buddha, a Rinzai, a Kabir. I wonder – I have always wondered – how Kahlil Gibran could manage it. He himself was not the madman, he himself was not the enlightened one. He was born in Syria, but lived unfortunately in America.
But there are wonders and wonders, questions without answers. How did he manage? Perhaps he did not manage it himself... perhaps something, someone – what Sufis call Khidr, and Theosophists call K.H., Koothumi – must have taken possession of him. He was possessed, but not always. When he was not writing he was a very ordinary man, in fact more ordinary than the so-called ordinary man: full of jealousy, anger, passions of all kinds. But once in a while he became possessed, possessed from above, and then something started pouring through him... paintings, poetry, parables.
The Prophet
I apologize because this morning I did not mention a few books that I should have mentioned. I was so overwhelmed by Zarathustra, Mirdad, Chuang Tzu, Lao Tzu, Jesus and Krishna that I forgot a few of the books which are even far more significant. I could not believe how I could forget Kahlil Gibran′s The Prophet. It is still torturing me. I want to unburden – that′s why I say I am sorry, but not to anybody in particular.
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The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran. I could easily drop The Prophet for the simple reason that it is only an echo of Friedrich Nietzsche′s Thus Spake Zarathustra. In our world nobody speaks the truth. We are such liars, so formal, so full of etiquette.... The Prophet is only beautiful because it echoes Zarathustra.
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It is a strange phenomenon: Kahlil Gibran wrote his masterpiece The Prophet when he was only eighteen years old, and struggled his whole life to create something better but could not. Ouspensky could not go beyond Tertium Organum even though he met Gurdjieff, lived and worked with him for many years. And such is the case with J. Krishnamurti: his book The First and Last Freedom is really the first and the last.
The Garden of the Prophet
Kahlil Gibran wrote many books in his mother tongue. Those that he wrote in English are well known: the most famous, The Prophet and The Madman... and there are many others. But he wrote many in his own language, few of which are translated. Of course translations cannot be the same, but Kahlil Gibran is so great that even in translation you can find something valuable.
I am going to refer to a few translations today. The third is Kahlil Gibran′s The Garden of the Prophet. It is a translation, but it reminds me of the great Epicurus. I don′t know that anybody except me has ever called Epicurus great. He has been condemned down the ages. But I know that when the masses condemn a man there is bound to be something great in him.
Kahlil Gibran′s book, The Garden of the Prophet reminds me of Epicurus because he used to call his commune The Garden. Everything a person does represents him. Plato called his commune The Academy – naturally; he was an academician, a great intellectual philosopher. Epicurus called his commune The Garden. They lived under the trees, under the stars.
Once the king came to see Epicurus because he had heard how these people are immensely happy. He wanted to know, he was curious as to why these people were so happy: What could be the cause? – because they didn′t have anything. He was puzzled, because they were really happy, they were singing and dancing.
The king said, "I feel very pleased with you and your people, Epicurus. Would you like a gift from me?"
Epicurus said to the king, "If you come again, you could bring a little butter, because for many years my people have not known butter. They are eating just bread without butter. And one thing more: if you come again please don′t stand like an outsider; at least for the time you are here become part of us. Participate, be one of us. Dance, sing. We don′t have anything else to offer you."
Kahlil Gibran′s book reminds me of Epicurus. I am sorry that I have not mentioned Epicurus, but I am not responsible for it. His book was burned, destroyed by the Christians. All the copies that were available were destroyed hundreds of years ago. So I cannot mention his book, but I have brought him in through Kahlil Gibran and his The Garden of the Prophet.
The Voice of the Master
...Another translation of Kahlil Gibran, The Voice of the Master. It must have been a very beautiful book in the original, because even in translation here and there are traces of beauty, footprints. But that is bound to be so. The language that Kahlil Gibran spoke is very close to the language of Jesus. They are neighbors. Kahlil Gibran′s home was Lebanon. He was born in the hills of Lebanon, under the cedars. They are the greatest trees in the world. Looking at a cedar of Lebanon you can believe van Gogh, that trees are the desire of the earth to reach the stars. They are hundreds of feet high and thousands of years old.
Kahlil Gibran represents Jesus in some way; he belongs to the same dimension, although he was not a christ. He could have been. Just like Confucius, he also missed. There were people alive in Gibran′s lifetime to whom he could have gone, but the poor fellow was roaming in the dirty streets of New York. He should have gone to Maharshi Ramana, who was still alive, who was a christ, a buddha.
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Kahlil Gibran would have been immensely benefited if he had gone to Maharshi Ramana. Then he would have heard The Voice of the Master. Maharshi Ramana would also have been benefited by Kahlil Gibran, because he could write like nobody else. Ramana was a poor writer; Kahlil Gibran was a poor man but a great writer. Both together would have been a blessing to the world.
The Wanderer
Again and again I come back to Kahlil Gibran. I have loved him and would have liked to help him. I have even waited for him, but he is not born yet. He will have to seek for some other master in the future. The Wanderer is my choice for this number.
The Wanderer, by Kahlil Gibran, is a collection of parables. The parable is the oldest method of saying that which is profound; that which cannot be said can always be said in a parable. It is a beautiful collection of small stories.
What a con-man I am! Even with closed eyes I am watching Devageet not only trying to say things – he is even using his leg, which is not very gentlemanly, and behind the back of a master...! What to do, this is how the world is.
The Spiritual Sayings
Another book by Kahlil Gibran, The Spiritual Sayings. Now I must object, even though the objection is against Kahlil Gibran whom I love. He cannot be allowed to write "spiritual sayings". Spiritual? – although the book is beautiful it would have been better if he had called it Beautiful Sayings. Beautiful, not spiritual. To call it spiritual is just absurd. But still I love the book, just as I love all absurdities.
I am reminded of Tertullian, whose book – forgive me – I have not included. It was impossible for me to include them all, but at least I can mention his name. Tertullian′s famous saying is: credo quia absurdum – I believe because it is absurd. I don′t think there is another saying in all the languages of the world which is more pregnant than this one. And Tertullian is a Christian saint! Yes, when I see beauty I appreciate it – even in a Christian saint.
Credo quia absurdum – this should be written in diamonds, not even in golden letters. Gold is too cheap. This saying: I believe because it is absurd, is so valuable. Tertullian could have written a book entitled Spiritual Sayings but not Kahlil Gibran.
Prose Poems
I have always appreciated Kahlil Gibran; I would like to appreciate him once more before I condemn him. don′t worry, I am not just saying the word condemn lightly, I am really saying it.
Ninth is Kahlil Gibran′s book Prose Poems – beautiful. Nobody in the modern world, except Rabindranath Tagore, can write such prose poetry. It is strange that both are foreigners to the English language. Perhaps that is why they can write such poetic language. They come from different languages: Kahlil Gibran from Arabic, which is immensely poetic, pure poetry; and Rabindranath from Bengali, which is even more poetic than Arabic. In fact if you see two Bengalis fighting you will be surprised because you will think that they are exchanging loving words among themselves. You will not be able to conceive that they are fighting. Even in fighting the Bengali is poetic.
I know it from my own experience. I was in Bengal and saw people fighting – sheer poetry! I was amazed. When I came to Maharashtra I saw people just talking, gossiping, and I was worried: were they fighting? Should the police be informed? Marathi is such a language that you cannot say sweet nothings in it. It is harsh, hard. It is a fighting language.
It is strange that the English have appreciated both Kahlil Gibran and Rabindranath, but they have not learned anything from them. They have not learned the secret of their success. What is the secret of their success? Their ′poeticness′.
Thoughts and Meditations
This is a book by Kahlil Gibran which I never wanted to condemn publicly, because I love the man. But I have to do it so that it is on record that I can condemn a man even though I love him, if his words do not represent the truth.
The book is Thoughts And Meditations. Now, I cannot agree with it, and because of it I know that Kahlil Gibran never knew what meditation is. In this book ′meditations′ are nothing but ′contemplations′; only then can they go with thoughts. Ashu, you don′t have to go with thoughts, you have to go with meditation – with me, not with Kahlil Gibran. So go higher. Unless you achieve it I am going to stop talking like this very soon. I want to affirm my transcendence in every way. No buddha has done it before. I want to be a pioneer.
I am against this tenth book because I am against thought. I am also against it because Kahlil Gibran uses the word meditation in the Western sense. In the West meditation simply means to think about something concentratedly. That is not meditation. In the East meditation means to not think at all. It has nothing to do with ′about this or that′, it is non-objective. There is no object in it, only pure subjectivity. Soren Kierkegaard said: The innermost core of man is pure subjectivity. That′s what meditation is.
-Osho, "Books I Have Loved"