By Adamus Saint-Germain

Back in the Mystery Schools of old, music was a very important part of both everyday life and the spiritual studies. Music was heard throughout the halls of the School during the day, and even gently into the night to lead the students off into the dream state on the harmonic notes. Music, such a beautiful human creation, is so very important in the sacred journey. 

There is a type of music in the angelic realms, but it is not like the music here on Earth. Music on Earth is a vibration, an energy wave, floating through the air and meeting your ears, where it is translated by the mind into beautiful tones and rhythms. How could there be such fine music in the other realms where there is no physical reality to feel it or human ears to hear it? Indeed, music on Earth is such a special part of the spiritual journey and has always been important in the Mystery Schools. 

As a matter of fact, we usually sang our words and greetings at the Mystery Schools, much like we did back in Atlantis, because it conveys more of the energy and feeling. Every student at the Mystery School played a musical instrument of some type so they could feel that vibration awaken something within their soul, and also bless and entertain others. In the Mystery Schools, we used music as a way of conveying sensory feelings and perceptions, so everyone would play. Sometimes it would be very harmonic and beautiful; other times it would be very dissonant, because that is music as well. It is much like human life. Sometimes, we would even transcend the music and go into silence, which of course is not really silent at all.

Indeed, there are those who seek silence, thinking everything will be quiet, but it’s not. In the absence of external noise all the noise of the inner being can be heard, with its challenges and conflicts, as well as its beauty and harmonies. The silence is never silent as long as you are there, as long as consciousness is present. 

The Master was sitting in his room doing nothing, because that’s what Masters do if they so choose – nothing. There was a knock at the door and he knew exactly what was coming next. The Master knew who was on the other side of the door and what the conversation would be; not every particular word, but certainly the beginning and the end of the conversation.

“Enter,” he called out. The door opened and the student came in. The Master motioned for him to come sit near the warm fire and said, “Dear student, what is it on your mind?” The student was a very, very talented musician, and served as the Master of Music at this and several other Mystery Schools. But on this day he looked very troubled and frustrated.

The student settled into a chair, paused for a few moments and finally said, “Master, it’s time.” The Master nodded and the student continued, “We have gone beyond just words, from speaking to singing.” 

“Yes, yes. Nothing new,” the Master said. The student continued, “And we do a lot of music that opens the soul, fills the heart and brings life to the dreams. It is true, real music.” The Master said, “Yes, at times, it is.”

The student paused again, then took a deep breath and came to his point. “I insist that, henceforth, at all of the Schools, there is no talking; that no words are used at all, not even singing. I insist that there be nothing but pure music. Look at the students. They’re getting nowhere! They’re learning very little. We need to go to the next step, and I insist that we take them there using only music and occasional times of silence.” 

The Master took a deep breath and, without using words to break the heavy silence, conveyed to the student exactly what he was thinking. But the student was so focused on in his agenda that he didn’t feel what the Master was communicating.

Then the Master spoke aloud. “There are students who still feel the need and desire to speak, and they speak. There are those who still love the singing, and they sing. So, my dear friend, I don’t think it’s reasonable for you to ask that we only have instrumental music or silence. No, I don’t think that’s reasonable at all.”

The student had anticipated this and was ready to put all his cards on the table. “Master,” he said, “I love you dearly. We’ve been together for a long time. You have given me many opportunities and allowed me to share my passion for music with the students. But either we drop the words now, and use only music and silence to come into the pure and true mystical experience, or Master, I must leave.”

Concealing a smile, the Master said, “Then so it is” and motioned to the door. The student was surprised. He thought there would be some negotiation, but he hadn’t heard the silent words the Master had shared that said, “No negotiation, because then you end up with something less. You end up confused.” The Master again motioned to the door and said, “Namaste.” 

The student grabbed his instruments and headed for the door, filled with anger and frustration. As he passed through the door, the Master said in very clear and audible words, “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” 

And so it was that the Mystery Schools continued on with words, singing and music, and the silence that is never really silent. 

Approximately 473 years and many, many lifetimes later, the student was still playing his music. He had been doing it for lifetimes, traveling around the countryside, playing at small festivals and trying to teach humans the sacred mystical meaning of music. But not many listened. Not many understood the depths to which the student understood the sacred beauty of music.

Oh, and in those lifetimes, he often got frustrated with people. All they wanted was for him to play a cheerful little tune, something they could dance to, something they could use to escape from their dreary lives for a few moments. Although this annoyed the student, he played at some of these gigs anyway, believing it was the only way he could earn a living. 

One day, he was playing at a Celtic Festival. Inside, he felt as if he was slowly suffocating, even dying, because they really didn’t understand, and sometimes even thought to himself, “Maybe it really was better at the Mystery School. There they understood, at least to a degree, and certainly they understood better than these humans who just drink beer and scream at me to play more, faster and harder.”

The student was living out yet another of these rather frustrating lifetimes that really didn’t bring him any further along in his sacred music. Now he played simple bar music, good for drinking beer, but not much else. So it was that finally, in this lifetime, one day the student received a call out of the blue from someone who said, “Hey, I’ve got a gig for you. Do you want to play for this new spiritual group that’s in town?”

Now, the student actually despised playing for most spiritual groups. He would almost rather play in bars and festivals than for a spiritual group, because at least the people accepted the music for what it was. At the spiritual gatherings, they pretended to know about sacred music. They pretended to understand and float off into the ethers, but the student knew in his heart that it was all just makyo; simply spiritual nonsense and distraction. So, when he got the call to play for this spiritual group he’d never heard of before, his first reaction was to say “No.” But, well, he needed a few coins in his pocket, so he forced himself to accept. 

He showed up at the appointed time and walked into the room with quite an attitude. He had a look of checking it out, because he was suspicious. Then he noticed that it didn’t feel quite the same as a lot of other spiritual groups. There was something different about the people in the room, about what was going on. He shrugged it off and played the first set, as agreed, just before the main presenter came on. But he wasn’t giving it his all or even putting his heart into it, because he really didn’t care. 

Then the presenter came on stage, and suddenly there was a transformation. Through the voice of what was just an ordinary human came the voice of the Master addressing the audience. And the Master commanded the student, “Come up here and play a new song. I want it to be called ‘I Am that I Am’ and we’ll make it up as we go.” The student felt a flash of anger surging through his body at being summoned up to the front and told to create a song in the moment without any preparation. He would much rather play at a bar or a festival than put up with this nonsense, but even so he came back up to the stage. 

He felt something interesting and different about this Master, something he loved and something he also despised, because indeed he was meeting the Master once again. Yes, it was a different lifetime with a different body and a different name, and the Master was being channeled by someone else. But it was indeed the Master’s energy.

So the new song was created. It was beautiful, and something happened in that moment. Something changed for both the student and the Master. The music woke up something within the student, an old passion, a remembrance of the Mystery Schools, and a fondness for this beautiful journey. He remembered a warmth and even a deep friendship with the Master. In fact, the impromptu song turned out so well that he and the Master continued to work together, traveling from land to land and gathering to gathering for many years. 

Then one day they sat down and had a little chat. The student said, “I remember you. You were the Master of the Mystery Schools and now you’re back. I remember the beautiful moments that we had, and I remember how I walked out, leaving behind so much that I loved.” The Master took a deep breath and said with a smile, “Ah, dear student, you were kicked out. It was time for you to go.” 

The student said, “Master, music is still such an important part of what we do, but I’ve learned a lot about it in these lifetimes on my own. I learned there’s a lot more to it than just my own agenda. More than anything, I learned that there is something even beyond music.”

“Oh, you are so right,” the Master said. “Human words can help a person find their path because their ears hear and their mind understands. Whether they are words of spiritual teachers and philosophers, words of channelers, or words that are printed in books, the words help get one on a path, where before they might have had no idea that the path even existed. Then it is music that allows them to fly along the path, to rise up out of their purely human condition and soar like an angel along the path. And it is silence that allows them to go beyond, to transcend the path itself, to understand there is so much more beyond what is known. 

“The words, the music and the silence are indeed very important. But, dear student, what I wanted to tell you, back on that fateful night at the Mystery School when I kicked you out, was that it’s actually about wisdom. It is the wisdom that fills the cup of the soul. Not the words, not the music, not the silence, but the wisdom. 

“When your soul first realizes ‘I Exist,’ you’re like an empty chalice, a vessel waiting to be filled. Every experience a person has, every lifetime they live adds a few drops of wisdom to that chalice. No matter how much pain and suffering they endure, no matter how much anguish, no matter how many deaths they die, it all keeps adding wisdom to that cup. The soul begins to fill, feeling its existence in a way it never, ever felt before. It strips away all of the details like dates and times and even emotions, and distills everything right down to the core essence, the only thing that really matters, the wisdom. 

“The soul keeps adding wisdom from every experience and every moment until it finally becomes so full of wisdom that it actually creates love. You see, love didn’t come first. Wisdom came first, and it keeps filling and filling until at some point the soul overflows. And that, my friend, is called enlightenment. When that cup of the soul overflows with wisdom and falls back down upon itself, it is like you falling in love with yourself over and over and over again. You don’t think about it. You don’t try to create it. You don’t tell yourself you love yourself. You just do. Imagine falling in love with yourself in every breath, in every action, in every moment, like a continual orgasm of love from soul back to soul. 

“That, my dear old friend, is what fills the cup. Not words, not singing, not music and not silence. It’s the wisdom.” 

The Master paused for a little while and they sat together in silence. Finally, he spoke again. “Dear student, I will never call you ‘student’ again. From now on I will call you Master G.” 

This tale is based on a true story of one now known as Gerhard Fankhauser (oryom-music.com). About this story Adamus said:

“We had some incredible encounters, heated debates, and many discussions of music. This one, Master G, had such a desire to work with every student at the Mystery School to bring them to a new level of consciousness through music, because it had brought enlightenment to him. Music helped him understand the sacred journey. But eventually, in this lifetime, he came to understand that it’s wisdom that fills the cup of the soul. 

“And now he plays beautiful music; music of the soul, music that makes the wisdom smile, music that shares a message, music that inspires. He still plays at a few bars and festivals, but now he’s living in his passion.”

Gerhard and his music group Yoham play at many Crimson Circle events around the world. There is a unique and loving relationship between he and Adamus Saint-Germain. Together they created something called a “Merabh,” which is a melding of Adamus’ words and Gerhard’s music. It provides a safe and musical space for the listener to allow an effortless and graceful shift of consciousness. On many occasions Adamus calls Gerhard up to the stage to create a new song in the moment, and each time the musical magic of Master G comes through.

This is story 13 from the book Memoirs of a Master.