Why is it difficult to apply the principle of divine endowment to others?

Osho, you said that if even a little thirst has arisen and even a little courage, surrender to God. But how can a surrender done out of fear lead to fearlessness?

Resolve is the effort of a miserly mind. Surrender is a wholly different matter. Resolve stands near the ego. And now and then a rare person has reached by resolve. One can arrive by resolve too; but in the last moment he must drop his immense ego—and that is very difficult. Once in a while some Mahavira succeeds; that is why I say it is right to call Mahavira by that name—for hardly anyone ever succeeds on that journey. It is very difficult. Difficult because first you build up the ego, refine it; you take everything into your own hands. And in the final moment, when all has ripened, when the ego has been fashioned in its subtlest form, hard as a diamond—so that it can cut through all things and nothing can cut through it—at that very moment you must surrender. At that moment you have to let go…

Someone asked Jesus, “Can it be that we seek God and also get the pleasures of the world?” Jesus said, “Do not think of worldly pleasures at all. First seek the kingdom of God, then all else shall be added unto you.” The seeker of God, the man of divine endowment, is searching for God in this very moment. All else follows, but he does not demand it. The less the demand, the more comes. Those who beg remain beggars; those who do not beg become emperors. Life is full of such riddles! Those who ask remain beggars; what they have is taken away. Those who give become emperors; what they do not have is given too. Jesus has a paradoxical saying: “If you ask, even what you have will be taken away; if you give, even what you do not have will be given.

Osho, This sacred, incomparable vision has vanished—O Lord, may I not, in ignorance, again wallow in the mire of self-interest.

People think: if we go within, we will find ourselves. Those who think so have read scriptures, not lived experience. They have heard of meditation but have not tasted it. The deeper you go within, the more you will find that “you” are not. The day you touch the ultimate depth, you will discover: there is no such thing as “I.” It was a lie, a falsehood that arose from unfamiliarity with oneself. With self-knowing, the self goes. With the self goes self-interest. Then the music begins; the single-stringed lute sounds! No, now you will not be able to sink back into self-interest, because I am breaking the self. You say: “May I not, in ignorance, again wallow in the mire filled with self-interest.” Your prayer is apt; your fear is understandable; I understand your fear… One trembles: for so long one has lived in self-interest; here, in my shadow,…

Another sannyasin friend said, ‘Osho is supremely compassionate,’ ‘Then why this distinction in the sharing of compassion—that only a chosen few receive the prasad of his ambrosial words?’ And hearing that very remark, I was reminded of my own unworthiness and backwardness. And I have begun to fear that perhaps for this very reason Osho may, in his own way, throw me out. Kindly be gracious enough to dispel our doubts and fears.

- “I am special; hence I was chosen.” Then you have gone astray. You miss at the very threshold. - “By grace alone I, unworthy, have been chosen.” Then you are on the right path. The Sufi mystic Junayd used to say in his daily prayer, “I am amazed—there is no worthiness in me, and yet I live. I have earned nothing, and this supremely blessed life has been given to me. I am amazed, for there is no reason why such peace should shower upon me. Where people burn in such restlessness, why does this peace rain on me?” There was a strange line in his prayer: “O God, I cannot believe You are just. You must be partial toward me—showering so much on one so unworthy.” And that was his worthiness. To see oneself as unworthy is worthiness on the path of the spirit. The day you take…

Osho, yesterday you said that jealousy is included in respect. I have immense respect for you, but the jealousy inherent in it keeps poisoning it, and I feel guilt and pain. Does reverence transcend this poison-laced respect?

It needs a little explaining—it's a delicate point. Whenever you respect someone, you do so because you see in that person something you do not have. You respect because you glimpse in the other something you would also like to possess. A beggar respects an emperor because he, too, longs to be an emperor. So on the one hand he respects, and inside he also envies. Because he is not yet an emperor but wants to be. You have attained what he wants to attain. He respects you as skillful, successful: “I stand far back in the line; you have gone ahead to where I should have been.” So you are powerful, clever, intelligent, strong—he respects you. But inside a fire of jealousy also burns—if he gets the chance, he would like to be in your place and push you aside. And if the beggar gets that chance, he will…