The first question:
For me, you are all the masters that have been before and all the masters that will come. More and more a strange knowing grows that only death is the door to this perfect union with “I don’t know what.” Loving the master – love – only gives us glimpses of what death can make us see. Is this not so?
Love is a small death, and death is great love. They are not two things. Love is a small wave in the ocean of death. Hence people are afraid of love too, as much as they are afraid of death.
People only pretend the game of love, they don’t go into it. They keep a distance from any deep commitment, from any total involvement, because if you really go very close in the world of love, the flame of love is going to burn your ego.
People love – at least they pretend, they believe that they love – because life without love is meaningless. If they don’t love life is meaningless; if they really love the ego disappears. Hence they make a compromise: they go only so far. They don’t go to the deepest core of it, they only touch the surface. They cannot remain without it; without it they are utterly futile. Then life is a desert with no significance, no song. Then life is utterly futile – you only vegetate, you don’t really love, you don’t really live. Loving and living are synonymous.
So people have to at least play the game of love; that keeps them involved. But they don’t really go into it. They keep out of it, because if they really go into it then the ego disappears. Then they are no more, then godliness is.
The experience of orgasm, of deep orgasmic joy, is the first experience of the divine. Godliness comes when two lovers meet and merge into each other. When two are no more two, when that union happens, the divine penetrates you. Then the beyond comes to the earth, the sky meets the earth.
But rarely are you in an orgasmic unity; rarely are you so much in tune with the other that you are ready to sacrifice your ego. In fact, you go on doing the contrary: your love is also an ornament for your ego; your love is also a new treasure to strengthen the ego, to gratify the ego. Rather than destroying it, your games about love go on nourishing it.
But your insight is absolutely right: love can only give you glimpses. If you allow the ego to disappear, love will make you available to something of the unknown. Love will teach you how to die; love is the first lesson of death. Death is the crescendo of love, the highest peak. Those who know how to love know how to die. Their death is not an end; it is a beginning, it is a birth, it is moving into the divine. It is transcending the human and entering the superhuman. It is transcending the mortal and entering into the immortal. Death is a portal, a door.