‘The
truth will prevail...’
a
Sai-devotee’s struggle for disenchantment
by
Matthijs van der Meer
Published
in Spiegelbeeld October issue 2000
Initially
I didn’t see the point of it: I wanted a guru with small circle of followers
and not one already trailing 30 million behind its robe. But the unlikely was
to be: I found myself persuaded to act against ‘the inclination of my ego’
and became a Sai-devotee.
Once
being it I tried being it to the full. Having faith didn’t turn out to be
that difficult to me. Primed as my mind had been by authors like Spalding and
Yogananda, the influence of Sai-VIPs
like Sandweiss, Krystal and Murphet soon made me consider the miracles of Sai
Baba a ‘matter of fact'. Given that premise, I couldn’t conceive of
Sai Baba not operating in good faith. Whomsoever was capable of performing
miracles was in any case speaking the truth. For, as I reasoned, on such a
level no being would be stupid enough to squander its own spiritual capital by
telling things untrue. So if Baba declared himself to avatar, God in human
form, this had to be the case. And why not after all? If God was to
be almighty, assuming a human form couldn't possibly be any trouble to Him.
And once doing so, He might as well tell straight with it who He was!
Consequently I was puzzled by people’s lack of tolerance for me being a
devotee. Because to me it seemed I didn't have much choice: could one after
all expect me not to follow God?
Still
apart from the lack of tolerance, I was even more amazed at people’s lack of
interest. While to me it seemed just inconceivable to assume so many authors,
of which several made clear to have set out as sceptics, should in their
findings all be supposed to have fallen prey to the same kind of deceit — so
many stories, and often of such compelling authenticity... And wasn’t it
downright fabulous that Sai Baba indeed seemed willing to show us that mind
was potentially capable of presiding over matter and that miracles were
indeed possible? Just this aspect in itself ought to have been of
shocking significance to at least the establishment of theoretical physics!
But no response whatsoever came about from such directions. Hence I had to
arrive at conclusions for myself — relying on the reports of those who (in
times of smaller numbers of devotees) had preceded me:
He
moved his hand in the mode he has adopted to create objects and there appeared
a white soft mass about the size of half of a closed fist. He extended his
hand and showed it to us. "It is sugar candy", he said. Then, in a
childlike voice of wonder, "Look, you can still see the process of
creation."
In
the palm of his hand there was water slowly disappearing into the mass of
sugar candy. [.] By the time we arrived in California, the sugar candy was
quite hard and brittle (Hislop 1985, 44).
For
whomsoever bothered to look at it, there hardly seemed to be room for doubt.
It were the details which convinced. And what was more: Sai Baba promised anyone
sincerely tuning in to him to be guided on life’s way! I myself had been in
pinching trouble for years (of which even chums knew little) and had been
setting my heart on the least speck of hope. So naturally I soon, that is, in
the summer of '89, at the age of 19, was to travel to Baba.
An
‘interview’ (group-meeting) followed and for the first time I saw the
miracles at close range. Also, Baba shortly took me aside in the adjacent room
behind the curtain. "How do you feel?" he earnestly asked,
subsequently, before I could say anything, summarizing my problems like an
express-train. "Don’t worry", he emphasised, "I’ll help
you!". After that he unknotted my pants and took a look at the luggage in
my underwear. He thereupon made a ‘materialising movement’ after which a
sticky liquid appeared on his fingers, which he smeared on my belly.
Afterwards my euphoria knew no bounds. Soon I burned with restlessness: I
hankered after the sequel of the story (an escape from my life situation). And
therefore I would not disappoint Baba. I would make sure to serve him to the
best of my capability — this was a chance I was not to miss! I had, in
short, truly become a devotee.
Prick
of the needle
After
years of intensely sweet hope in February '93 the dream got disturbed. Of
course, there had been instances for reading negative opinions on Baba before.
But the study by Dale Beyerstein was the first sound of criticism sufficiently
substantiated to be taken seriously. The sense of acute dilapidation which
then took hold of me will remain with me for life.
Here as well it were the details which convinced. For instance with regard to Baba’s supposed creation of a so-called ‘lingam’ (an ovally shaped smooth stone), which he annually coughed up from his throat with Mahasivarathri. Among others, Beyerstein quotes the devotees themselves: "Baba has said He often finds it difficult to postpone or prevent the formation of lingams within Him". (N. Kasturi, quoted in Beyerstein 1992, 71). Remarkable of course: God finding something difficult... While vomiting up a lingam is a fairly common feat among Indian ‘holy men' in general, as tells us the great Houdini by another quotation. It is done by just (be it after some training) swallowing one in advance — with the proviso that regurgitation of the lingam is to take pl