Kuthumi and the Brothers of the Golden Robe February 8, 1976 And Lo the Word Was Clothed with Mater
To Those Who Would Know the Four Cosmic Forces in the Four Quadrants of Mater:
Mater is the crystallization of the Mother-flame. Mater, the Latin form of Mother, is the term which devotees use to express their reverence for life in matter. Matter is Mother; Mother is matter and much more.
Mother is the womb of life in which the creation moves. And all of the material cosmos is like a seed in the womb of the Divine Mother. What shall come forth from this seed? Life? Eternity, the Mantled? Or morbidity? Anti-matter? Not-time or a black hole in space? We must consider the dissolution of worlds even as we calculate the Egg of Mater becoming the crystallization of the God-flame out of the seed of Spirit.
The seed is a nucleus of cosmic consciousness planted by the All-Father In the womb of the All-Mother to be nourished by the flowing of Her love, the knowing of Her wisdom, the blowing of Her power as the winds of the Holy Spirit caress these little ones, these tender children held in arm by earthly father and mother. And lo, He spoke! And His Word is the worlds turning and the stars burning And the whole of creation yearning for Mother. And lo, the Word was clothed with Mater--macrocosms and microcosms of soft nebulae, star clusters and vapory bridal veils, masses of matrices geometrized, systematized, congealed. And lo, the body of God in Mater doth appear!
The seed of Spirit as a million billion seeds in matter--and all life bows before the one Creator, Infinity sealed in finitude. A tear in the Mother’s eye, the heart's overflowing joy--love is fulfilled in love. A God is born, a God will rise, the herald of our paradise!
Of all of this--this beauty petaled, fragrant, flowing—this beauty moving out, then in, then out again from center to circumference of Almighty Being—of all of this they would fabricate the counterfeit creation. Is not the original pristine splendor enough? Aye, ’tis the satisfaction of the gods and goddesses who rule the stars and galaxies. But the betrayers must fabricate an alternate system, a minus polarity that is not matter but maya, mystification, mortality.
They have mirrored the creation Of our Father-Mother God. But the mirror of the soul debauched and dejected does not reveal the quality of the original but only miasma smearing the matrix of Mother to justify an unreal position the fallen ones have created, an unreal world positioned in the netherworld Of astral dark and dank, a time and energy frame which they have stolen from the Mother, suspended in the space usurped from the Buddha.
Like gypsies these fallen ones roam the Cosmic Egg feigning a freedom that is the denial of the Self when it ought to be the deification of the self. Where can these gypsies go? They are frightened! They flee hither and thither. The eye of the Mother is upon them. She watches as they play their games Of sex cults and success cults in the very folds of Her royal robe.
Where shall they flee from Mother? There is no place to go to hide--inside a cave or under a log or in the luxury of the land they acquired by affluence and that atheism justified by arch-deceivers and their philosophies--Ayn Rand and Madalyn Murray and the marching "liberators" of women. They too exist in Mother’s matter. And whether or not their quasi-existence becomes the Life resurrected, the Life universal and triumphant, no matter for none can flee the ultimate grace of Mother. None can forever avert the face of Mother. Their reckoning will come, is come, and their calculations must be by freewill to define being: to be or not to be.
But in the meantime all who have chosen the left-handed path to elevate the lesser instead of the greater Ego have organized their mechanized existence in imitation of every facet of the creation of the mind of God. They have sought to sever the light Of the Four Cosmic Forces which turn the energies of God in the planes of Spirit and of matter. By freewill they have stolen the light, and they steal it still.
Whirring about like bumblebees and toy planes and trains and cars they scurry here and there with all of the noise of their self-importance. And lo, they present to mankind the wonder of their counterfeit creation! They have even imitated the hierarchical structure of the sons and daughters of God, and they have positioned themselves in order of self-importance on a bamboo scaffolding, imitation of the ladder of Hierarchy. Look! Here they come--a Halloween parade! The masked fallen ones peering through the masks of paper-mache painted to look like Morya and Kuthumi, Saint Germain and even Jesus the Christ. Their sacrilege knows no end, and they dupe the self-deceived among the human race who already wear the mask of ego on their face.
For every post and position held by an ascended master or an unascended chela in the Hierarchy of the Great White Brotherhood there is one or a dozen or a hundred impostors maliciously, mischievously impersonating that name and that flame. Thus the false hierarchy rules in the underworld of the mass subconscious of the evolutions who have sought escape from the oneness of our Father-Mother God.
Their lies and fabrications cover with sackcloth and with mourning very truth of the Holy Spirit and every true image of the real. They have sought to conceal the Mother from Her children. But with all the jungles of their madness and the jangles of their mechanization they have never cut off the flow of Mother for the children of the Father.
They have never cut off the longing of the souls of these little ones for Her face, Her tender embrace and the warm milk of Her love flowing, nourishing souls with nutrients of the Word.
Now is matter coated With the soot of their sarcasm and their sin. Now shall matter be swept clean by the clarification of the law, crystallization of purity, practicality and power---the golden-white light of the Mother's halo which She now lays upon the altar of matter, a lei of white roses, lilies, forget-me-nots, and babies-breath which She places around the neck of each and every one of Her children. O Fairest of the fair, O Mother of the World whose image is reflected true in true Mater, not maya: behold how Thy children love Thee! Behold Thy children come to Thee!
Behold Thy children carrying cups of liquid essence light's own effervescence, cups filled with nectar of the gods and goddesses who come to deliver the children of the Mother from the dark ones and their dreadful desecration of divinity, that Deity within. O Mother of the World, see Thy children like pilgrims walking on the way of sunlight into the golden day! 0 Mother, look! Thy children on the homeward way!
I AM
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