We Are Approaching A Very Pivotal Moment
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Robert Kauffman Atlanta, Georgia April 27, 2025
Temple of Light Service
Thank you, Steve. You’ve taken us on a fascinating journey through time to the present—which is also our entire history. I’m particularly moved by your emphasis on victory; the capstone of the ebbs and flows of those who have come before. [greatcosmicstory.blogspot.com/our-living-cosmic-timeline.html]
I spent a week thinking about what I would say this afternoon, and I would like to share something very personal for me. I believe we are approaching a very pivotal moment—all of us personally, and without a doubt, the human world as a whole. Many very large cycles appear to be coming into sharp focus at this time; and we are together today because we have specific parts to play in this vast outworking.
What parts do we play? This afternoon I want to focus on a role I consider central to all of us here, today, that is to allow heaven and earth to be one in heart and mind. I see this as our primary job. Interestingly, this job is not a new one but extends beyond the bounds of space and time. In preparation for this afternoon, I was guided to the Book of Psalms and I rediscovered a rather poetic description of the process that’s now at hand.
Please explore with me the wisdom of the 23rd Psalm. I’m going to read it to you and then I’ll follow with a description of what I mean: “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
OK, I’ll hold right there for a moment. I used to interpret the word “want” as a rather passive verb—I’d just sit down and let it happen. But now it comes to mind that that’s an absolute command—as in—as Terry said last month—there are no ‘yeah, buts’ tolerated here! Let me continue:
“He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
And this one I particularly love: “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD, forever.”
This makes great sense to me. If the opening line is seen as a command, and I fulfill it, the promise of the LORD follows seamlessly. It outlines a sacred commission, and it reminds me of the Master’s words: “Be still, and know that I am God.”
I’ve been considering forgiveness as a principle part of this work. Accordingly, we have been promised a seat at the table prepared “in the presence of mine enemies”. We have been given the opportunity to sit in stillness before that imagined table. Now I have understood that “mine enemies” come in many forms. As a child, I was directed to meditate upon the sins of the world—my sins, the Seven Deadly Sins, the “thou shalt nots”—all things that are routinely considered “bad”. As I learned to repent, however, I found it comforting, and freeing, and in my heart, I could say: “Ah, it is good!”
But as my mind ponders these things, I have to start considering “good”, because it occurs to me that in the Psalm there’s never a mention of either “good” or “bad”. And with regard to “mine enemies”, there’s no mention of any difference; it’s whatever is holding me back. So, I’m left with the thought that I have used forgiveness often as a technique to transform my transgressions into valuable life-experience—basic building blocks for attaining a good and secure life. But always reaching for the “good” stuff has never succeeded in filling my days with great peace and joy. How often do I actually lie down in green pastures on my own; how often do I sit still beside the cool waters? In fact, I realized I was constantly in the business of planning, strategizing my life, creating a self-image. These plans, goals and aspirations are not easy to give up. I’ve relied on them as a security against the unknowns of life. But taking control of our lives is also not mentioned in the Psalm—only to take my seat at the LORD’s table. Few there are who have ever completely done this. Do I dare? Do you dare?
This conundrum is not just my own, of course. There are evidences throughout the Bible. Perhaps the most significant is the story of the disciples in the upper room. After the ascension of the Master, according to the record, Peter was leading the remaining disciples, and the women, in what was essentially a business meeting—for example, they were voting on a new candidate to take the place of Judas. When suddenly, what’s been called the “Day of Pentecost” descended upon them. Now I can only imagine the dual impacts that the Ascension of the Master and the Pentecost had upon them all. In the rush of the moment, it seems clear that Peter reverted to impulses that we would all recognize: He rushed to take control, as was his tendency and his talent, but he was ignoring the pattern of leadership that the Master had set up. And many in that grouping failed to heed the Master’s warning to “Tarry in Jerusalem”. And as we know, it did not end well.
Don’t you think it’s time for us to finish the work, as described in the Psalm? In order to play our part perfectly, we must each give our lives to our LORD and KING. Is there anything we’re still holding back? In a class recording in 1953, titled “The Shekinah Fire”, [greatcosmicstory.blogspot.com/the-shekinah-fire.html] Uranda presented a stunning description of what I have called “our primary job on earth”. That job description will undoubtedly change in the future, but at least for the present, Uranda’s image is precise and clear. He says to all responding ones:
“When it begins to appear, when the glowing Light is first seen, we have evidence that the Presence has been there for a considerable period, that the creative field has been maintained, that there have been no adverse vibrational factors, no discords, no resentments, no critical attitudes, no conflicts, no fear; for where these things rule, we never see the beautiful Glowing Light; or the Cloud of Glory revealing the evidence of the Presence of the One Who Dwells.” And he continues: “As we begin to meditate on these words, we begin to appreciate the great significance of the simple words: ‘Be still, and know that I am God’.”
What Uranda describes is nothing less than the tipping point from “I” to “We”; from consciousness of “mine” to “Thine”. Now this is not to imply that we haven’t experienced thousands of moments of real unity within our own experience. I have wonderful memories—in particular during my 9 years at Glen Ivy. But in the process of passing through a long season of purification, there have been many opportunities—some challenging and some easy, and I bet we could all say that. It is evident that the time has come to let it all go. There has been a table prepared for each one of us to receive our world and reflect it into the eyes of the LORD. As each one of us does this—and maintains the fire of his passion for the LORD—we do in fact begin to inhabit the same space in consciousness. Uranda described that as well:
