Om Shanti touched on a very poignant and useful topic today: how a devotee of the Lord was wronged, and what came of it.
Throughout the ages, the Lord, through the mouths of various Saints of different denominations, has constantly repeated: “Do not harm My anointed ones.” The example of this devotee is vivid confirmation of WHAT happens when the servants of the Lord are oppressed.
And yes, we can attack the person who acted this way. But let us pay attention to HOW the story is presented: without condemnation, simply as a statement of fact—the person acted wrongly; the person later suffered; the person came to the Spiritual path through that suffering. And precisely because the person suffered as a result of their wrongful act and reached the heights of the Spirit, we have no right to judge their difficult and arduous journey, along which they walked for a long time and with great difficulty, yet ultimately came to the Lord. Considering the final result, this person’s path is Sacred, which means they had to do what they did in order to reap the fruits of their actions and move on to a new stage. The Lord leads everyone, each and every one, to Himself by entirely different, individual paths, and it is not for us to become judges of other people’s actions.
In the Bible, Jesus says: “It is necessary that temptations come, but woe to the one through whom temptation comes...” In other words, this very Path is being shown, just as in Om Shanti’s story: this negative mission must and will be carried out by someone, but woe to the one who carries it out... For everything is God’s will—even such grievous events.
An example from childhood. There were three mentally ill people of different ages in our courtyard. One of them was the nephew of my mother’s friend. My mother always taught us not to hurt him and not to be afraid, since he was harmless and posed no danger. But no one played with him; everyone, if not exactly afraid, avoided maintaining contact. And, giving in to the general mood, I began to keep my distance. He had experienced stress while still in the womb—his mother lost her husband during her pregnancy, and this may have affected him in that way...
The second person was a woman who had graduated from university with a gold medal and was very cultured and intelligent. She had a family—a husband and children. Then, suddenly, she fell ill. The children in the courtyard teased and mocked her. I did not take part in the bullying, but I stood there and watched.
And the third was a boy from our school, from our class. He studied alongside everyone else, but, as I now understand, he had moderate autism. The children laughed at him and took his things away. He cried because of it—even when he was already in his final year of school. I did not participate, but neither did I try to protect him.
Considering that I had such a special person in my close circle and had been taught by my mother, I did not hurt such people, but I also failed to give them the protection they deserved, even though I could have—stood up to the others or called an adult. And now, a very important conclusion: sometimes it is not only an action but also INaction that creates karma. I did not participate—but I did not help either.
Later, I had a child with autism. And I learned firsthand what it is like to be the parent of such a person, how difficult and painful it is to protect them from an aggressive world, and what such a person experiences in stressful situations.
Someone may say: “BUT YOU DIDN’T HURT THOSE PEOPLE.”
Yes, I did not hurt them. But I did not stop the others or reason with them either, although I could and should have, because my mother had instilled in me the right attitude toward such people.
The rule that operated here was: “Knowledge carries increased responsibility.” The more one knows, the more one is held accountable.
And when people tell me that others were the ones who hurt them, yet nothing happened to those people, while I take all the sins of the world upon myself, I always answer: they knew less, and therefore less is expected of them, as of children who are still immature. After all, would anyone think of punishing a one-year-old baby for getting covered in porridge?! But if a seven-year-old knocks a plate onto the carpet, they will already be asked to be more careful, or even to clean up after themselves. It is the same here.
It is not without reason that the Lord says: “Do not harm My anointed ones. And do not judge another person’s path without walking it yourself.”
Throughout the ages, the Lord, through the mouths of various Saints of different denominations, has constantly repeated: “Do not harm My anointed ones.” The example of this devotee is vivid confirmation of WHAT happens when the servants of the Lord are oppressed.
And yes, we can attack the person who acted this way. But let us pay attention to HOW the story is presented: without condemnation, simply as a statement of fact—the person acted wrongly; the person later suffered; the person came to the Spiritual path through that suffering. And precisely because the person suffered as a result of their wrongful act and reached the heights of the Spirit, we have no right to judge their difficult and arduous journey, along which they walked for a long time and with great difficulty, yet ultimately came to the Lord. Considering the final result, this person’s path is Sacred, which means they had to do what they did in order to reap the fruits of their actions and move on to a new stage. The Lord leads everyone, each and every one, to Himself by entirely different, individual paths, and it is not for us to become judges of other people’s actions.
In the Bible, Jesus says: “It is necessary that temptations come, but woe to the one through whom temptation comes...” In other words, this very Path is being shown, just as in Om Shanti’s story: this negative mission must and will be carried out by someone, but woe to the one who carries it out... For everything is God’s will—even such grievous events.
An example from childhood. There were three mentally ill people of different ages in our courtyard. One of them was the nephew of my mother’s friend. My mother always taught us not to hurt him and not to be afraid, since he was harmless and posed no danger. But no one played with him; everyone, if not exactly afraid, avoided maintaining contact. And, giving in to the general mood, I began to keep my distance. He had experienced stress while still in the womb—his mother lost her husband during her pregnancy, and this may have affected him in that way...
The second person was a woman who had graduated from university with a gold medal and was very cultured and intelligent. She had a family—a husband and children. Then, suddenly, she fell ill. The children in the courtyard teased and mocked her. I did not take part in the bullying, but I stood there and watched.
And the third was a boy from our school, from our class. He studied alongside everyone else, but, as I now understand, he had moderate autism. The children laughed at him and took his things away. He cried because of it—even when he was already in his final year of school. I did not participate, but neither did I try to protect him.
Considering that I had such a special person in my close circle and had been taught by my mother, I did not hurt such people, but I also failed to give them the protection they deserved, even though I could have—stood up to the others or called an adult. And now, a very important conclusion: sometimes it is not only an action but also INaction that creates karma. I did not participate—but I did not help either.
Later, I had a child with autism. And I learned firsthand what it is like to be the parent of such a person, how difficult and painful it is to protect them from an aggressive world, and what such a person experiences in stressful situations.
Someone may say: “BUT YOU DIDN’T HURT THOSE PEOPLE.”
Yes, I did not hurt them. But I did not stop the others or reason with them either, although I could and should have, because my mother had instilled in me the right attitude toward such people.
The rule that operated here was: “Knowledge carries increased responsibility.” The more one knows, the more one is held accountable.
And when people tell me that others were the ones who hurt them, yet nothing happened to those people, while I take all the sins of the world upon myself, I always answer: they knew less, and therefore less is expected of them, as of children who are still immature. After all, would anyone think of punishing a one-year-old baby for getting covered in porridge?! But if a seven-year-old knocks a plate onto the carpet, they will already be asked to be more careful, or even to clean up after themselves. It is the same here.
It is not without reason that the Lord says: “Do not harm My anointed ones. And do not judge another person’s path without walking it yourself.”
