Not found by you...
Hundreds have met with him in the inner worlds and well as in the flesh.
Not counting the Eckist here in A.R.E. who have shared their personal
experiences, I have posted just a few examples at the end.
Post by Darrick
He was invented out of whole cloth, from the mind of Paul Twitchell.
No Tibetan Buddhist has ever heard of him!
Logical fallacy Darrick. Likely no Tibetan Buddhist has heard of Harold
Klemp either. That doesn't prove anything. BTW, how did you contact _all_
the Tibetan Buddhists?
Post by Darrick
Rebezar Tarz in NOT Tibetan!
So...? Is that supposed to prove something besides your ability to use
logical fallacies and misspell? Have you checked all the Tibetian name
throughout history and not found Rebazar Tarzs listed? You couldn't have
since you can't even spell it right. So tell us, what do you case this
Post by Darrick
Twitchell made up the name from the Spanish "rebasar" (to go beyond)
and "Tarzi"; a common last name in India and Pakistant
Prove that. Where did you get the documentation that shows that is anything
more than someone's imagination?
Post by Darrick
travelled to India to be inited by Kirpal Singh of Ruhani
So far you are batting Zero. That's not true.
Post by Darrick
Twitchell later changed his name to Sudar Singh...that first
name has no meaning in any Indian language). Twitchell got that name
from Sundar Singh; a guru who died before Twitchell was born.
Are you really this immune to the real facts? Or do you repeat others false
information and opinions knowing full well that they are misrepresentations?
Post by Darrick
Time to wake up.
Maybe you should go back to sleep since you appear to be living in a dream
world of others false information. ;-)
Post by Darrick
Twitchell lied about his age,
Nope. Another David Lane myth. You sure are gullible. There has not been
one single piece of documentation that supports that. Or do you have one?
Post it here please. David Lane couldn't provide even one where Paul
actually wrote or said what his age was. It seems he was content to let
other believe what his age was. That's not a lie, albeit him having fun
being a bit mischievous at withholding it. Are you aware that lack of
information proves nothing? It took an Eckist to find out when he was
Post by Darrick
lied about his time in India,
Then where you lying when you said he went to India?
Post by Darrick
lied about his journeys,
And of course you can support that by posting the proof here right? :-/
Post by Darrick
lied about his soul-travels
That's pathetic. You expect anyone to believe that you have the ability to
know Paul's inner experiences when you haven't shown that you even have the
wherewithal to know what he did in the physical?
Post by Darrick
(and this is why Kirpal had him excommunicated from Ruhani Satsang).
Why do you try this nonsense when you have been shown the real chronology of
Paul's interactions with Kirpal.
Post by Darrick
He was a liar, and Darwin
Gross was even a worse liar (and womanizer).
All you have shown us is that you are an uniformed name caller and false
rumor spewer. Do you really believe that is all it takes to convince
The proof of what I say in this post is that you can not answer my
questions, will not even attempt to refute them, even acknowledge them, or
discuss them is a reasonable and respectful manner. You can't provide any
documentation to support the opinions of other that you keep repeating here.
You will continue to spout these false, misleading, unsupported, and
inflammatory allegations as if you never saw the information that clearly
You don't really have _anything_ of substance or you would have provided it
in answer to several of my other posts. Worst of all, you appear oblivious
as to the image this behavior sends to the readers here.
Post by Darrick
This man performed miracles...just like Jesus! Either he was the
In case you haven't noticed, no one here has shown they have any interest in
this guy. Repeatedly posting this only serves to have more people dismiss
anything you write. The kind of behavior, such as this post, only serves to
worsen your intented proselytizing.
Meetings with Rebazar.
A Special Spiritual Message Saved This Ecuadoran Woman's Life
by M. R.
"If you want to survive," boomed the deep voice of my visitor, "you must
follow my instructions. As soon as the sun rises, you must go to the bus
A heart attack had forced me to quit my job, and after fifteen days in
bed, I was as weak as a kitten, unable to do anything for myself. I stared
in disbelief at the bearded stranger by my bedside. Who was he? Where had
he come from?
Strangely I felt no fear. The beautiful energy that radiated from him was
familiar. I had felt that comforting presence at my side day and night
since I had fallen ill.
"The bus stop is seven blocks away," I protested. "How will I ever get
"If you want to survive, you must go now," came his reply. "Walk slowly.
Catch the bus to Santo Domingo Plaza."
Again I asked, "How can I walk seven blocks in this condition?"
Brushing my protest aside, he repeated his command, "You must go now!"
Then he was gone.
I dragged myself out of bed and struggled into my clothes. All the way to
the bus stop I fought to stay on my feet, shaking and sweating profusely.
But every time I faltered, I heard my benefactor's voice: "Keep going,
keep going." Finally I reached the bus stop.
When the bus to Santo Domingo Plaza arrived, I felt a steadying arm help
me aboard. There was no one in sight.
At my destination, I exited the bus and began to walk slowly across the
plaza as I had been instructed. My inner guide spoke again. "Sit and rest
on that bench for a few minutes. Then resume walking up the hill. Be
alert. There is a man on his way down who has what you need."
After resting a bit, I continued on. I was ready to collapse when I saw a
small Indian man, about fifty years old, clad in a red poncho, a round
white hat, and short white pants. He was carrying a small basket. He had a
Heading down the hill straight toward me, the vendor cried, "Herbs for
your heart! Herbs for your heart!" I tried to hurry toward him, but the
pain in my chest made it impossible to go any further. I waited anxiously
for him to reach me.
"Grandpa, how much for all your herbs and the basket to carry it in?" I
"One centavo," he replied sweetly. I could scarcely believe my ears. I
wanted to hug him, but I knew it would be unseemly. Instead I placed my
arm on his shoulder and thanked him profusely. I was so grateful. But my
effort had weakened me even further, so I sat down on the curb, hugging my
lifesaving basket. I turned to wave one more thank-you, but the little man
After a long and difficult journey home, I prepared the herbs and began to
take them. In eight days, my heart was completely healed. I began to
exercise to regain my strength and was back at work twenty days later.
All this happened many, many years ago. Years later, after I joined
Eckankar, I discovered the identity of my black-bearded, maroon-robed
savior-the ECK Master Rebazar Tarzs! He had sat invisibly by my bed
throughout my illness and directed me to the mysterious vendor whose herbs
saved my life.
An Appearance by the Tibetan ECK Master Rebazar Tarzs
By J. C.
For nearly two years my sister Jane, who is a psychiatrist, had been going
through the experience of being publicly maligned by the press. Quite by
mistake her secretary had incorrectly billed a patient, and one of the
large health insurance companies decided to use Jane as a legal test case.
They took her to court and let her have it with both barrels.
Her lawyer extracted more and more money from her only to drop the case at
the last minute. Upon investigation Jane found that her case was indeed
indefensible and that he had been leading her down the proverbial garden
In our phone conversations (Jane lives in another state), I could hear the
exhaustion and discouragement in her voice. She didn't know if she could
get through a court appearance with lawyers hurling accusations at her.
"Joyce, even though I'm innocent, I'm afraid I'll break down emotionally,
which will make me look guilty."
That conversation prompted me to write her a letter with a message that
came from deep within myself. I told her about the dark night of Soul-a
time of desolation we experience for our spiritual benefit. I explained
that it was often a turning point in our lives.
"The ECK Masters are dedicated to helping Souls through this dark night of
Soul. They often appear in dreams, so examine your nightly adventures
closely. I am enclosing a copy of the ECKANKAR Journal-be sure to read the
article by Sri Harold Klemp in which he recommends softly singing
'HU-Mahanta' for spiritual help."
The next time I talked to Jane, she had been through her first court
appearance. She mentioned that she had repeated that phrase, "HU-Mahanta,"
over and over to herself. It seemed to keep her mind off the negative
situation. I said I was glad to hear that and asked if she could she
remember any helpful dreams.
"Well, it's funny. I can't seem to remember my dreams, but my friends have
gone out of their way to tell me theirs. And people have been helpful. I
especially remember this unusual priest. I first noticed him looking at me
in the courtroom. Later, when I went downstairs to fill out some papers,
he was there too. He came over and put his hand on my shoulder and said,
'I know the trouble you are going through. It will turn out for the best.'
How would he know that, since I've never seen him before?"
At that point it occurred to me to ask what this priest looked like. She
gave me an exact description of the great Tibetan ECK Master, Rebazar
Tarzs! I suggested that perhaps he was one of the ECK Masters of the Order
of Vairagi that I had told her about.
Some weeks went by before we talked again, at which time she said, "Joyce,
it's the most amazing thing! I was looking through the ECKANKAR Journal,
and there was a picture of the priest. His name is Rebazar Tarzs!"
The postscript to this story is that Jane's trouble wasn't alleviated. She
had to endure the accusations made in court and upheld by the law, and so
lost her means of livelihood in that state. The strain was too much for
her marriage, and it fell apart. But the last time I spoke to my sister
she seemed rejuvenated. She was very excited about starting her new life
on Cape Cod, which, she said, is like a dream come true. And I know I'll
write her a letter from time to time from that place deep within, so we
can both learn more about the mysterious ways of Spirit.
By Phil Morimitsu
I sat down at my desk to do a little reading, but I was restless. I
wondered about the whole business of humility. I'd remembered hearing some
talk of humility, of how, if you thought you had it, you probably didn't.
It seemed like it was some mystical thing that you had to be lucky enough
to have been born with, like a pedigree. I put my book down and went for a
While walking down one of the streets near my apartment, I started talking
to myself. "I wonder how Masters like Rebazar Tarzs gained humility?"
Rebazar Tarzs was one of the Masters I'd always had an affinity for, as
well as great respect. He was a no-nonsense person, strong without being
arrogant. But was he humble? I realized that I really didn't know what
humility was. I'd always had the impression that humility meant that you
groveled before everyone and put yourself on the ground for others to walk
on. But here was a Master who, in the farthest stretches of my
imagination, I couldn't imagine doing these things. So I knew right then
and there that it was my conception of humility that was off.
Then there was Sri Harold Klemp's very firm but gentle demeanor. I always
felt a sense of humility from him. What was it that these two Adepts had
"I could get us both together, and you could compare us," came a voice
over my shoulder. It was Wah Z.
"Well, I don't mean to be so crass, Wah Z," I answered as I kept walking,
"but it might help if I could ask the two of you about it."
At that instant, I had the strange feeling that there were three of us
walking together. It was a solid, firm, and strong presence. It was
Rebazar Tarzs. He didn't even have to say anything; I was getting such a
"So you want to learn about humility?" he said to me.
We reached a small corner park, and I sat on one of the benches. Wah Z
joined me, and then Rebazar appeared in front of us both under one of the
trees. He was in his usual knee-length maroon robe. At times, in schools
or wisdom temples, I'd seen him in a pure white robe, with one thin gold
stripe around each sleeve cuff, but now he was dressed for outdoors. He
was a tall five feet eleven and a half inches and looked to be about
thirty-three to thirty-five years old. He was built lean like a
prizefighter-maybe a middleweight or light heavyweight. He had a broad
face, taut, that was dark like he had a deep tan. He was wearing a beard,
neatly trimmed and short, which was black like his hair. He had absolutely
no body fat, as far as I could tell. There was a sharpness when he spoke.
He attacked the words in an almost restless manner. Everything he said had
a resolution to it-well-punctuated. He used his hands a lot, almost like
karate chops. He'd use his whole hand like a blade carving the air as he
spoke, moving quickly and sharply. His eyes flashed as if he could cut you
with his gaze, but there was also an ease to this being. He was a strange
combination of dynamism and ease at the same time. He looked like the kind
of guy that no one in their right mind would want to mess with, but also
one that you knew would never give you a bum steer.
"You can consciously acquire humility," he said abruptly.
I said nothing. I just listened and waited for the next thing he was going
to say. I glanced over to Wah Z who was sitting on the park bench next to
me. He was smiling, and I felt he was trying to hold back his mirth while
watching me sit and listen with such strict attention to this powerful
"Think of the ways you love your Master." His eyes bore into mine, as I
thought of Wah Z. "You cannot love without first opening your heart."
I nodded silently.
"Now when you wear the cloak of humility, you open your heart. Think of
all the Masters you've met and read about. When you met them, did they not
all open their hearts to you?"
I thought about it, and yes, he was right. That was the one outstanding
characteristic of all the ECK Masters I'd met. They put others first,
opening their hearts to them.
Rebazar continued, "We find that humility is the ability to see the
divineness in each person, before it manifests outwardly, no matter who
they are. For is not each being and creature a spark of the Divine Sugmad?
And as we learn from each man, we share the open heart, and love. Thus
love and humility go together."
He looked at me, then to Wah Z. The two Masters gazed at each other for a
second, then both grinned. Rebazar turned his gaze to me. His eyes bore
into me like cold ice that burned at the same time. His expressionless
face slowly turned into a grin, and then I found myself grinning too. Then
he burst out laughing, his head thrown back, his hands on his hips. All
three of us were now laughing out loud. When the laughter gradually
stopped, he was gone; but I could still hear the faint chuckling of his
sharp voice fading away. I turned to Wah Z and without saying a word, we
both got up and started back to my apartment.
Encounter with an ECK Master
By M. J. C.
Many years ago, my husband and I traveled to a large city to meet with a
longtime member of Eckankar. We had become very interested in Eckankar
after my husband had found an ECK book in our local library.
Now we wanted to talk to someone who had experience with it.
When we arrived, we were met with much love and warmth. We were shown to
the ECKist's living room. On the wall was a large painting of a man with
black hair and short beard wearing a maroon robe. He was standing with one
foot in a small boat and the other foot on the rocky shore. His hand
reached out, as welcoming as his wonderful smile.
I recognized him at once. I had known him during my childhood and searched
for him ever since. Now twenty-five years later, here was a painting of
Old memories I had long forgotten started coming back. My heart was
pounding with excitement.
As soon as we were back in the car, I asked my husband who the
black-haired man in the painting was.
"He's Rebazar Tarzs, one of the ECK Masters. Why ?"
"That man saved my family's lives during the Korean War," I replied, as
the memories came flooding back. It was so exciting, as if it had happened
only a few days ago.
The war had been going on for months. We were trying to get away from the
North Korean soldiers and stay away from the combat zones. My brothers and
sisters and I were constantly hungry, sometimes walking for many days
without food, hoping to find a safe place to rest.
At last we made our way into the south, away from the fighting. There were
so many people and no food or water. My parents soon found their money was
worthless. Those who had extra food wanted clothes or blankets in
During the bombing of our home, we had had only enough time to dress and
take our soon-to-be useless money with us. A blanket or coat would have
been worth much more.
We were all alive and together, but slowly starving and unbelievably
tired. All the rules of our society had changed, and we just didn't know
how to survive in this new arena of war. Our hunger forced my parents to
go out on longer and longer searches for food and water or things that
could be traded for food. One day I felt I needed to go with my mother on
her daily search. She told me to hold on to her shirt and not to let go,
no matter what happened.
Everywhere we went, there were people and children crying. I grew tired,
but my mother told me that if I fell the people would take me away. I
don't know how far we walked, but that fear kept me going.
By the end of the day, I was so weary I stumbled and almost fell. When I
looked up, I saw two big boots in front of me. Then I gazed into the eyes
of a big dark man in a strange uniform.
For a moment fear clutched me. But the love from his eyes was so beautiful
A smile spread across his broad face. My weakness disappeared. As we stood
in war-torn Korea, he said in a strange language, "You will be all right."
Yet I understood each word. Who was this man? My mother, unmoving and
silent, stared in awe. The man took off his jacket and handed it to me.
"Trade this for the food you need," he said. I nodded my understanding,
took my mother's hand, and headed back to our family.
As we walked away I turned to look once more at his love-filled eyes. But
he was gone! He was too tall to disappear so quickly among the people
around us. Yet he was nowhere to be seen. I remember having such a deep
sense of loss-for someone I didn't even know.
Since my childhood, I had often wondered about that wonderful man. Now
after finding Eckankar I can visit with him again from time to time.
I know that Divine Spirit and the ECK Masters have been protecting and
guiding me for a long time. They have been there for me not only in times
of suffering but also in times of joy.
Experience in India
By Jaswinder Kurr
I grew up in a small farming town in India, near the school where my
father taught. From my bedroom window, I could see the Himalayas towering
behind green pastures. They seemed to stretch into the heavens, as far as
the eye could see.
Sometimes when I gazed out deep in thought, I would become aware of a
presence in my room. I looked around only to find no one there. Yet I
seemed to know where the person was standing.
I discovered that if I turned my head really fast I could glimpse a man in
a maroon robe, with dark, clear eyes.
One day my mother said, "Jassie, the next time you see this being in your
room, challenge the purity of his intentions by saying, 'Sat Nam,
Vi-Guru.' If he is not working for your highest good, he will disappear."
Sat Nam is a name for God. Vi-Guru is a true teacher. In Eckankar this is
the Mahanta, my inner guide. These words were very familiar to me because
my parents are Sikhs, and these are common terms in that religion.
Anytime I became aware of this man in my room, I would just close my eyes
and say, "Sat Nam, Vi-Guru." Instead of vanishing into thin air, his
presence would get stronger! Somewhere along the line, without consciously
being aware of it, I accepted him as my friend.
Whenever I visited my grandparents, I would walk a mile or so through a
beautiful pasture, past a lake with a grove of mango trees. As I walked
and skipped along, I would become aware of footsteps right beside me. They
would stay with me for a while and then go away.
This continued until I was in my early teens, when I moved to England. I
did not feel this presence again for several years. Then a friend gave me
a book on Eckankar. I read it and was really impressed. Finally someone
was speaking my language!
One day, as we sat discussing the book in my friend's home, I looked
across the room and saw a painting on the wall. Walking up to it, I
pointed to a figure in the painting.
"Who is this man?" I asked.
My friend smiled and said, "He is the great Tibetan ECK Master, Rebazar
"This is the man who used to appear in my room years ago."
At that moment of recognition my whole being vibrated. All the many
experiences I'd had with Rebazar Tarzs flashed before my eyes.
I realized that no matter what path we follow, what we believe or don't
believe, these spiritual giants, the ECK Masters, work to uplift us. They
guide and protect us and are right beside us, waiting for a spark of
recognition or an opportunity to take us a spiritual step forward.
If you want to meet one, try singing HU tonight.
An ECK Master Appears at My Patient's Bedside
By M. B.
Twelve years ago, before I was in Eckankar, I worked as a nurse in a
coronary intensive care unit. One day the charge nurse said, "Why don't
you take care of this patient, Mary. I think she'd enjoy your care."
The woman's name was Ann. Following a heart attack in which she nearly
died, she was seeing into other dimensions of reality. The other nurses
thought she was confused and hallucinating. I knew she wasn't.
One day I came in to find her chatting away with her Aunt Bertha and Uncle
Fred, who had both translated (died) years ago. She asked if I could see
"No, but I believe you can," I replied.
"Other people think I'm crazy," she said.
I assured her that I didn't. Over the next few days I asked her if she
could see anyone else.
"Yes, there is someone in the corner of the room," she said. She called
him the Dark Angel and said she didn't like him very much. She didn't
think he was bad, just severe. He was waiting for her. She didn't like to
look at him since his presence meant she was going to die.
"Let's pray together, and we'll ask God to send somebody else," I offered.
The only prayer we both knew was the Lord's Prayer, so we said that
together. When we finished, she looked over in the corner again. The Dark
Angel was gone. Another man with black, curly hair and dark eyes had taken
his place. He was wearing a dark red robe with a rope for a belt and
sandals. He carried a tall staff.
"He looks like a monk. He has the most beautiful eyes," Ann said.
I asked his name, and she replied, "Ra . . . buzzer."
"His name is Bizarre?" I asked.
"Oh, I don't know what it is. It's Rumpelstiltskin," she said, referring
to the old children's story. I could see she was getting agitated, so we
stopped talking about it.
For the rest of her stay in the hospital, the man in a maroon robe stood
in the corner of Ann's room. She took a great deal of comfort from his
Nine months after caring for Ann, I went to an ECK center and saw pictures
of the ECK Masters for the first time. I recognized Rebazar Tarzs as the
Master who had brought such comfort to my patient during her illness. He
is the ECK Master who helped Paul Twitchell establish Eckankar as a
Israeli Woman Remembers Healing and Love from a Tibetan ECK Master
By S. O.
I have developed a friendship with a young man living in Jerusalem. Most
of his body is paralyzed. Nevertheless, he is active in various meditation
and New Age groups and volunteers to help other handicapped people.
Whenever I speak with this man, he is in high spirits despite his physical
problems. He is a beautiful vehicle for Divine Spirit. Because we often
talk about our mutual interest in the spiritual life, one day I offered to
visit him and share the divine love song of HU. After that he invited me
to give introductory talks on Eckankar in his home.
At one of these meetings I read a passage from Sri Harold Klemp's book
Soul Travelers of the Far Country. I passed the book around so attendees
could see the pictures of the ECK Masters on the cover. A woman named
Marianne became very excited.
"Who are these ECK Masters?" she exclaimed.
"They came to me about twelve years ago when I was having a very difficult
She pointed at Rebazar Tarzs, saying, "He kept coming to me for about a
year. His presence gave my life a tremendous boost."
Looking at Gopal Das, she said, "He came to me several times about twelve
years ago. He is very tall, right?"
I confimed this from my knowledge of the ECK writings.
"When I was about twenty-six years old," Marianne continued, "I received a
phone call from a man who said a friend had told him I was a very
interesting person he should get to know. We arranged to meet. This man
looked very much like Rebazar Tarzs. We had a brief and unusual
friendship. Odd thing is, every time I went to Tel Aviv to visit him,
there was a heavy downpour of rain. After about two months he disappeared
from my life as suddenly as he had entered."
After Marianne became a member of Eckankar, she realized the rain had been
a symbol of spiritual cleansing. Rebazar Tarzs had been saying to her,
"When you have cleansed yourself, you will be able to receive the high
teachings of ECK."
As for me, I recognized I might never have had the privilege of witnessing
Marianne's rediscovery of the ECK Masters if I had not met my young
handicapped friend in Jerusalem and shared the sacred love song of HU with
him. The steps Divine Spirit takes to reach a Soul who is ready often seem
roundabout, but they are more direct than we can know.
A Meeting with an ECK Master
By D. F.
One evening while a friend and I stowed away in her bedroom to confide in
one another away from her children, our light conversation turned to
serious philosophical matters. We opened our hearts and divulged many
secret thoughts and goals. One of mine, I told her, was to experience
grace-whatever that truly meant.
She smiled and leaned across her bed to pull a book from the shelf. As she
handed it to me, I remember feeling as if the exchange was taking place in
The words on the cover sank into my heart: The Flute of God by Paul
She didn't say much except that the book was written by the man who
founded a teaching called Eckankar. He was a spiritual master she had met
once in a dream. She also said she had read the book no less than twenty
times over the years, and each time she read it, its words ran deeper and
As soon as I got home, I opened the book. Each paragraph was so meaningful
and so right; I would reread them two, three, and four times. It was less
that I was learning something and more that the book confirmed what I'd
always thought, felt, and known to be true. I must have exclaimed, "Yes!"
out loud a hundred times in the first few days of poring over that little
During my twelve-hour workdays not much else was on my mind except The
Flute of God. In the third week after receiving this spiritual gift,
something extraordinary happened.
It was 7:00 a.m., and I was standing on a New York subway platform. I
hoped to get a seat on the train so I could read in comfort all the way to
Wall Street. I jumped on the subway and saw one seat. But I decided to
relinquish it to another person who was competing for it and opted instead
to lean against the dirty end-door of the car.
Once under way, I wedged my briefcase between my feet and pulled out my
treasured Flute of God.
Several minutes later, I looked up for no particular reason. I found
myself staring directly into the eyes of a man standing two feet in front
of me. At that moment time ceased to exist.
Gazing into his eyes, I was engulfed by all-consuming love. I cannot
describe the feeling. It was actually far more than a feeling. It was a
knowing, deep and complete. I felt as if I'd come home. Perceptions were
passed to me, all truths of some kind, but I couldn't articulate them to
another person because they could not be separated into thoughts. There
was a wholeness about this knowing.
The next moment was overwhelming. I became aware that we shared a bond in
an all-consuming love that was unspeakably deep.
That scared me, and instantly I was back on the subway-staring at a
stranger. I must be out of my mind for staring back at this guy, I
thought. He's probably some kind of weirdo. I tore my gaze away, noticing
that I was physically very warm. But I had an overwhelming urge to return
to his eyes, so I glanced back up.
Again, perceptions flowed quickly before I tore myself away. I settled for
looking at his hand instead, which rested on the handrail overhead. He had
grasped the handrail of the subway car to steady himself.
When I felt I could take no more, I said so. Bending my head low, staring
into The Flute of God, I said inside myself, "Look, I can't take this
anymore, please go. And please don't go suddenly, because if I look up and
you aren't there and the subway hasn't even stopped to let you off like a
normal person, I'll really freak out. So I'll wait until the next stop,
and when the subway doors have opened giving you time to leave, I'll look
So I waited. And when the subway doors had opened and began to close again
I looked up. He was gone.
Later that evening I met my friend who'd given me the book and her
daughter. The first thing I said to them was, "You guys! I met someone
today. I mean I really met someone today."
They looked at me curiously and somehow grasped what I meant. (They'd been
members of Eckankar for years, though I didn't know it at the time.) The
first question the daughter asked me was, "What did he look like?"
Look like? I hadn't thought about it. Stumbling, I told her he looked
Indian. Not American Indian but like someone from India. His skin was a
deep tan color. And as I thought about it, his presence had been almost
too vivid, like in a dream. He had a dark black beard, but it was cropped
really close to his face, giving a clean-cut impression.
The daughter got all excited and impatiently asked me what he was wearing.
Again, I had to think. "Well, you know it's strange; he wore a three-piece
suit. It had a vest (an outdated style), and the color was odd too. It was
a dark red or maroon and seemed to be made of a heavy wool."
At this, both of my friends became highly excited. The daughter was
yelling, "You met Rebazar Tarzs!" Rebazar who? I had no idea who they were
talking about. (Even though I'd seen the name in The Flute of God, I had
mispronounced it.) But I knew I'd met a spiritual teacher of some kind.
When she said, "Rebazar Tarzs" aloud, my whole being was shaken to the
They asked if there was anything else about him, and I said that the most
important feature was his eyes. They were a deep chocolate brown, and his
gaze was so intense it was indescribable.
At that, the daughter said I had to go to their house that night, to look
at some pictures she had of the ECK Masters.
It would be two hours before we could leave for their house due to a
meeting we were hosting. I felt elated and scared. I was sad that I hadn't
shown this being more respect somehow, and I walked around thanking him
inwardly a hundred times for taking the time to visit me. I knew that it
was the most real thing that had ever happened to me.
Later that evening I stood in my friend's house looking through her
pictures of ECK Masters. We came across a black-and-white sketch of a man
I instantly identified as the person I'd met on the subway.
She smiled and said, "Yes, that is Rebazar Tarzs."
An Out-of-Body Healing
By G. O.
In 1978 I had a severe accident while working for a railroad out near an
Indian reservation. I was crushed between two train cars and lost one leg
just below the knee. Just after the impact, my coworkers laid me on the
ground, and I was instantly out of the body.
Two beings met me in that other dimension, and one of them said, "Come
this way, I want to show you something."
They led me to an unusual temple. I spent forty-eight hours drifting in
and out of consciousness, as they taught me. I learned about myself as a
spiritual entity, that we live forever, why I'd lost my physical leg, and
that I had other, nonphysical bodies: the Emotional, Mental, Causal,
Etheric, and Soul forms.
Before I woke up, the beings said, "We will always be with you. Only now
we will come to you in the dream state, to remind you of what you've
For the next three weeks in the hospital, they met me in the inner worlds
every time I fell asleep. I never paid much attention to this experience.
I thought it was related to the heavy sedatives the doctors gave me. I
didn't share the experience with many people.
At the end of the three weeks, they told me they would continue to teach
me in the "light form." The dreams stopped, but I began to see little
sparkling lights out of the corner of my vision. It was disturbing, but I
still attributed it to sedative aftereffects.
Four days later I met a Blackfoot Indian family. They worked as trappers
and invited me to go with them into the wilderness the following year if I
got myself an artificial leg.
The following year I was guided back up to the mountains for more
spiritual and physical healing. I met the family again and began a
wilderness adventure with their dog team, tepee, log house, and canoes.
One afternoon I was outside working on the log house and overheard them
singing a word called HU. I ran outside and told them how beautiful it
was, and to please continue. They sounded so beautiful together. The
father went and got a book called The Shariyat-Ki Sugmad. "If you like the
music," he grinned, "maybe you should read the book. These are the
scriptures of Eckankar."
Every night they sat around the lanterns and read to each other from many
different books. But I never paid much attention. "I don't believe you
find answers in a religious book," I scoffed. "There's no truth in them.
Truth is inside."
"Well," he smiled, "I agree. But let me put it this way: You have nothing
to lose. You're in the middle of the wilderness."
The first words I read when I opened the book were "the first section of
these works, which was dictated by Fubbi Quantz, the great ECK Master, who
serves at the Katsupari Monastery in northern Tibet."
A feeling of strange familiarity came over me. I yelled to the father, "I
know this, I know this exactly! I've been to this monastery, I know what
All the family started rejoicing, they were so happy. The father went to
the house to get pictures of the ECK Masters.
When he showed them to me I instantly recognized one of the beings who had
helped me when I lost my leg. His name was Rebazar Tarzs. From that moment
on, I became a follower of Eckankar.
Without the ECK Masters' guidance, my accident would have led me into such
a dark place. Instead, it brought me the light of truth.
A Meeting with Rebazar Tarzs
By Dan Stryder
Suddenly, the Tibetan ECK Master Rebazar Tarzs was standing before me in
the dim alley where I walked. His gaze was intense.
"Do you understand what the Living ECK Master was trying to show you with
your last experience?" he said abruptly. "I don't think you do!"
The sudden appearance of this maroon-robed Adept sparked a deep emotion in
me, for he had been in my thoughts constantly all day. For some reason,
the sound of his voice and image of his face had been just beneath the
surface of my thinking, as if about to emerge. Now here he was, his black
hair and beard fading into the dark shadows of the twilight, a peaceful
glint in his eyes.
"Do you mean the Soul Travel experience last night?" I asked.
"I thought Harold was letting me have a chance to see that Soul survives
as the individual. That the individual is the true state of Soul."
Rebazar Tarzs turned to see the curious face of a black-and-white cat
peering through an opening in the fence. The cat seemed caught between
some inner desire to approach this ECK Master and its natural instincts
for survival through safety. Rebazar Tarzs took a few steps and knelt down
to scratch its furry ears, and the cat purred.
As I felt the power of the ECK Master's presence move with his attention
to the cat, I began to wonder if indeed I had missed something very
important from my experience.
Finally, he turned to me and said, "Now look, this Living ECK Master we
have is a very subtle Master, and not many understand him. But I am going
to be a bit more blunt when I say that he was trying to move you to that
state where you could see the whole of Eckankar. You are close to catching
it, and when you do, nothing will be able to shake it from you.
"One might think that after all these years of study you would have caught
the secret, but remember, not many will reach that point in this lifetime.
Look at all the masses of people on this planet. Look at movement after
movement that continues to abuse and take advantage of the individual
because they have not understood the secret.
"The one thing you should always remember is that all these movements, all
these groups, are battling for the individual. They have found the secret
that only Soul, the individual, is the central operating unit in the
worlds of God. Nothing can happen except through Soul. Nothing can exist
without It. The ECK, or reality, will only respond to Soul and nothing
else. This means that whoever can capture Soul, as you might net the fish
of the sea-as the Christians put it-will have the greatest power known.
"So why does man continually throw himself into groups and movements? He
sees himself as a Christian, a Democrat, a Communist, or a thousand other
designations, but never as Soul, the individual. He feels the need to
belong, so he searches out a group consciousness. He dearly loves to live
by rules and regulations, so he joins an organization. Alone, he feels
helpless, so he takes part in some action team with high aspirations to
change the world. This is Soul's way of looking for survival.
"But one day Soul outgrows these outer movements, which lose their
fascination for It. Soul begins to ask questions such as: Who am I? Where
am I going? But no one can answer them except the individual. Then Soul
begins the long, hard road to extricate Itself from the group
consciousness and regain Its individuality. This is when the ECK Masters
step in to offer their assistance, and thus the path of ECK appears when
the time is ripe. Now do you see how this all ties together?"
"I think so," I answered. "But then, how can there be an organization
carrying the name of Eckankar? Isn't this a contradiction?"
"There is not much in this world that isn't," he said. "When the ECK, the
Life Force, flows into this world It takes every form. It might be a
flower, a river, or a solar system. It might even be a mirage in the
desert or a vision of God. The ECK flows into this world but never finds
completion or perfection, so It is always changing: always dying in Its
old forms to be born into the new. It might come together to produce a
spiritual era, or It might hide for ages behind the traditional teachings.
The ECK is all of life, so don't try to fit It into some little box.
"The Living ECK Master might use an organization if his mission dictates
it, or he might work with a few close ones as a team. He is free to use
whatever means he can. But the minute his followers begin to feel they are
above others, the minute they begin to talk in "shoulds" or "should
nots"-or limit in any way a person's individual path of truth-then they
can become more of a hindrance than a help. He might try to lift them
beyond these areas, but he cannot force them; and if the situation grows
bad enough, he might just leave everything behind and walk the lonely
hills by himself, searching for those who truly seek the Light of God.
"Now don't shake your head, because this has happened in the past and will
happen again. This is indeed what makes for a contradiction. Thus, unless
the seeker looks beneath the surface of what he sees, he may never glimpse
the true teachings of ECK. He might miss what the Master is trying to tell
"OK. Now I want to go back to this subject of the ways that Soul searches
for survival. If It cannot find survival through individuality, then Soul
might find it in fame or infamy. In other words, if Soul can preserve Its
image or name in the memories of others, then It might feel It has
survival. Or It may find survival vicariously through fleshly offspring,
such as the father or mother whose whole interest is the lives of their
"Soul might take up some job that It feels is important in the running of
an organization. This can be Its mission, you see? Or It might choose
survival in the feeling that It is one of the few who knows some secret,
ages old. This is how the mystery schools have preserved themselves. They
claim to be a brotherhood that has endured from the ancient days of
civilization by passing down certain secrets. These secrets may not bring
immortality, but the individual finds survival by feeling a part of this
"The point is that when Soul has a purpose or a goal, then It has
survival. But when Soul accepts the dreams of others, It loses something
vital. Once the individual begins to act out someone else's goal, or some
purpose established for It by others, then the interest and affection It
has for what It is doing becomes weakened. Do too much of this and Soul
can lose the very source of inspiration and ideas that will lead It out of
Its troubles and into the higher spiritual worlds.
"So you see, the true freedom of Soul to act upon Its wishes is the very
origin of your power to succeed. The greater your goal, the greater your
power to reach it. And out of this freedom and power comes the deepest
love for every act you perform. These are the three aspects, as I have
said before: freedom, power, and love.
"Now those who have said that harmony should come first and freedom second
are wrong. Without freedom, harmony is an act or a show; but with freedom,
harmony is the greatest expression of the divine law. This is what the
movements of today have overlooked. They have hidden the secret that Soul
is the central operating unit of life. This is why the individual is such
a trampled-on unit in our modern world.
"So, if you wish to have freedom within the worlds of God, to become the
spiritual traveler yourself, then you must first learn to control your own
will. An undisciplined will is your worst enemy. Next, you must control
your imagination; let nothing limit it, nor conform it. Last, you must
begin to make contact with the spiritual power Itself. You must learn to
live in the ECK and through It. The ECK Masters are always near those who
are bold and adventuresome.
"This is some of what you should have gotten from the experience the
Living ECK Master gave you!"
"I had no idea," I said.
The Tibetan nodded his head and pointed his finger at me. "There is always
more to ECK than meets the eye," he said, and let out a hearty laugh that
was infectious; it was so full of life.
Thirty Years Becoming an ECKist
By J. H.
Before 1982, I'd never heard the name Eckankar. In October of that year, I
met a young lady while visiting my sisters in Gary, Indiana. She told me
she was an ECKist.
My reply: "What's an ECKist?"
Well, she told me. So when I got back home to Dayton, Ohio, I picked up
some materials on Eckankar. That's when it came back to me.
Thirty years before, I had met a man I could never forget. When I turned
to a picture of Rebazar Tarzs in the ECK material, I said, "That's him!"
* * *
I was driving my cab on the night shift in Milwaukee. A call came over the
radio, and I said to myself, "I want that call!" But I was six or eight
miles away and figured I'd never make it in time. Still, I started driving
in that direction.
Thirty-five minutes passed and still no one took the call, so the
dispatcher gave it to me as soon as I came in. I will never forget the man
I picked up.
I drove up to the curb, got out, opened the back door, and asked the man
to get in. "No thanks," he said, "I'll sit in the front with you." When I
glanced up into his eyes, they seemed to look right through me.
We started out for our destination, the North Shore Station. As we drove,
he sat there and told me everything about myself, even my secret
prayers-things that no human being alive could know. I felt like someone
had poured hot water over me.
Before stepping out of the cab, he turned and said, "We will meet again."
This was Rebazar Tarzs.
A few weeks later, a friend and I had to make a rush trip to Toledo, Ohio,
through pouring rain. I was driving at speeds up to a hundred miles an
Just outside the suburbs of Milwaukee, a traffic light flashed red, and I
was forced to stop. Suddenly the car felt funny, and when the signal
changed, it wouldn't steer!
My friend and I gave a groan and climbed out into the rain to investigate.
Once glance told the story. The front wheels were sagging in different
directions, totally out of control. The tie-rod had come loose.
We stood quietly for a moment, thinking about what could have happened if
the rod had fallen off five minutes earlier. There would've been no way to
Before we could say anything, another driver got out to ask if he could
help. I explained the situation and said there was really nothing he could
do. The man didn't say anything before walking back to his car, so we
assumed he was leaving.
But after a moment the fellow returned, and we just stood there as he
knelt beside the helpless car. After a few minutes, the man straightened
up and said, "It's OK now!"
Naturally, we both bent down to look at the tie-rod as he jumped into his
car and sped away. It was fixed! Shock and amazement hit both of us at the
same time, and we turned to each other, saying, "Are you thinking what I'm
We drove the rest of the trip in silence. I kept muttering to myself that
I couldn't wait to get home, get down on my knees, and thank God for
saving my life. I felt that was the only way I had been spared.
As soon as I got home, I made good on my promise. I marched upstairs to my
room, shut the door, and got down to pray. I remember saying I wanted to
thank Him for saving my life and that I wanted proof that He heard me.
Well, I got my proof. While on my knees, It, the Spirit of God, took me
out of my body. No words can describe all the things that happened in that
room. When I got back into my body, I was hollering, "I believe, and I'll
never doubt again!"
Then a voice chuckled, "I told you we would meet again!"
Many times after that, that inner voice helped me through difficult
situations, letting me know, "I am always with you." Again, this was
* * *
Thirty years later, after recognizing the picture of Rebazar Tarzs in the
Eckankar material, I had another experience I'd like to share.
My car was hit while it was parked one night. I didn't even notice the
damage till the next day, when I parked in the same spot.
So I went down to the police station and made out all the routine reports.
As I walked back to my car, someone pulled into the police parking lot and
parked next to a truck. Darned if the inner voice didn't speak up and say,
"That truck hit your car."
So I turned around (I was through doubting this time!), went back in, and
told the sergeant. Naturally he exclaimed, "How would you know?"
"Well," I replied, "just check it out." So he did, and sure enough, it was
Now you know why-after thirty years of miracles-I know ECK is for me!
A Meeting with Rebazar Tarzs
By Sri Harold Klemp
An ECK initiate wrote to me about her first meeting with Rebazar Tarzs,
which took place when she was in the first grade. She is well aware that
some people question the existence of the ECK Masters. They are quick to
assume that Rebazar Tarzs, Fubbi Quantz, and the others whose names appear
in the ECK works must have been figments of Paul Twitchell's imagination.
Yet, this woman was having experiences with these ECK Masters in the early
1930s, some thirty years before Paul brought out the teachings.
Her letter also helps to explain some of the nightmares that children and
adults have-and what they can do about them. People who ask me for help in
ridding themselves of nightmares do not realize that what the ECK Masters
want to do is to teach you how to face your own fears.
Nightmares are simply your own fears, manifested on the inner planes. As
long as you are overcome by fear, you are never really free; and you will
never have freedom until you learn how to face yourself.
The whole point of Eckankar is to teach the individual how to reach
spiritual freedom and to go back to God in this lifetime, by way of the
Light and Sound. In ECK this education is carried out through the Mahanta
and through the assistance of the ECK Masters.
Her letter read:
Every now and then we read or hear that someone is questioning the
existence of the Masters of the Vairagi. But Rebazar Tarzs started
teaching and guiding me when I was in the first grade. This was in the
My first recall of him was a series of dreams that are still as vivid now
as when they were occurring. One night I found myself in a long
underground tunnel. I knew there were bodies buried in the walls. At
intervals there were candles burning in niches.
I heard growling and snarling behind me and turned to see a pack of
vicious-looking wolves coming toward me. I turned and ran.
Being chased by creatures is a nightmare many children have. They don't
realize, of course, where the creatures come from or what to do about it.
The letter goes on to say:
I ran until I was so tired, but they were still behind me. I called out
for help, and I heard, "Turn around and face them." I kept on running and
shortly came awake.
The next night I found myself in the same place, and the wolves were still
chasing me. After a while they sounded closer, and I turned to find they
had gained on me.
I called out for help and saw two men. One was dark and wore a
reddish-brown robe. (Later she identifies him as Rebazar Tarzs.) The other
was lighter in coloring, dressed in white with a white beard. (Though she
never identifies him, this was Fubbi Quantz.)
I ran toward them, but they receded in front of me. I called again for
help, and the dark man said, "Turn around and face them." I thought, I've
already looked at them twice-and kept on running. Soon I found myself
This went on for two more nights. I didn't ask for any more help. I just
managed to stay ahead of the wolves.
On the fifth night, once again I found myself in the same situation, but
this time I passed one of the candles and noticed that it flickered. So
did the next one. I looked up to see that they were almost used up. Each
candle I passed was the same way.
I knew I could not negotiate the rough ground and the turns in the dark.
Once again I called for help, and once again the two men were there in the
distance. Once again the dark man with the beard repeated, "Turn around
and face them."
The thought that came was, If I'm going to die, I would rather do it in
the light than in the dark. I stopped and turned to face the wolves. I
looked at them for a few seconds, then they disappeared. The men who had
been in the distance were now standing beside me with their hands on my
shoulders, smiling at me. And then I awoke.
The next night, I found myself above ground, standing at the beginning of
a long lane with trees growing on both sides. At the end of the lane was a
big house with a door. The top of the door was stained glass. It had all
the symbols of the different religions. There was the six-pointed star,
the cross, the crescent moon, and others. There was a bright light shining
behind the door. I didn't know how, but I knew what each symbol meant.
I started to walk down the lane. A priest in a black cassock came out from
behind a tree and told me to turn back, the place was evil. As I stood
there, I heard another voice urge me on. I recognized the voice from the
tunnel with the wolves and turned. It was the dark, bearded man in the
maroon robe. Where I had felt fear and danger from the priest, I felt
strength, kindness, and love from the bearded man. I continued to walk
toward the door then found myself awake in bed.
The next night, I was on the lane where I had left off. Once again the
priest was trying to frighten me into turning back with threats of death
and hell. The man in the maroon robe urged me on with love and kindness.
My trust was with the bearded man with the beautiful eyes and the good
strength. I walked on.
This went on for two more days until, on the fifth day, I found myself at
the foot of the steps leading to the door. The priest said that if I went
up and opened the door, I would burn in hell forever. The bearded man
urged me to have no fear and to open the door.
I walked up the stairs and opened the door. Instead of a room on the other
side, there was brilliant, white, loving light and such beautiful music.
Once again, the bearded man was beside me with his hand on my shoulder. We
walked into the light, then I found myself awake in bed again.
Here she switches to her outer life:
Some weeks later, I started catechism class in preparation for first
communion. The nuns and the priest would often say that if someone was not
a Catholic, they could never go to heaven. Each time, I was reminded
inwardly of the door and what I had found behind it. That treasured friend
and teacher was there to help me in the inner world of dreams and on the
Then she refers to occasions where Rebazar Tarzs helped her in her outer
life. Some of them are quite dramatic, though she doesn't go into great
One day on the outer, he helped me save my parents from two men who had
come to kill them. Another time I had just learned to swim a little that
day. He talked me through so that I was able to save my cousin from
It wasn't until my sophomore year in high school, 1940-41, that I finally
brought his name back from the dream state. It was Rebazar Tarzs.
I had been studying with both Jesus and Rebazar for many years. One day
Jesus said-three times-that I must learn to die and that I would be
studying with Rebazar.
Saint Paul referred to this in the Bible when he spoke of dying daily.
That means learning to rise above the human consciousness into the
spiritual consciousness. To do this, we must leave the concerns of our
daily life behind for a little while every day. There is no other way to
go into the high states of Spirit.
The letter goes on to say:
The next night I found myself with Rebazar again. He said that Jesus
taught up to this region, but it was time to go on into other regions.
Then he said, "Bless you in the name of the Sugmad," and kissed me over
the Spiritual Eye.
The next night I sought out Jesus and asked about what Rebazar had said.
He repeated the same thing, blessed me in the same fashion, and said, "Now
return to your Master." I did, and there I stayed.
In 1970, she finally read her first book by Paul Twitchell, ECKANKAR-The
Key to Secret Worlds. Not only was she surprised to run across the name
Rebazar Tarzs, but to learn that Paul had met him too.
She then expressed her gratitude to the Mahanta, Rebazar, Paul, and the
other Masters of the Vairagi. "My life has been so enriched by you all.
Thank you," she said in closing.
Another dozen out of hundreds of such meetings with Rebazar can be read
There are more in the A.R.E. archives.
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