The old man in the dream concluded his statement by saying: 'The truths and ideas
preached by us were presented as the teachings of Jesus. But Jesus the person was
never born. Various proofs attesting this fact will be brought to light when this place is
dug up.' At that moment — it was midnight — the Swami awoke and asked a sailor
where the ship was; he was told that it was fifty miles off Crete.
The Swami was startled at this singular coincidence. The idea flashed in his mind that
the Acts of the Apostles might have been an older record than the Gospels, and that
Buddhist thought, coming through the Therapeutae and the Essenes, might have helped
in the formulation of Christianity. The person of Christ might be a later addition. He
knew that Alexandria had been a meeting-place of Indian and Egyptian thought. Later,
when the old sites in Crete were excavated, evidence was found connecting early
Christianity with foreign sources.
But Swami Vivekananda never refused to accept the historical Christ. Like Krishna,
Christ, too, has been revealed in the spiritual experiences of many saints. That, for
Vivekananda, conferred upon him a reality which was more real than historical
realities. While travelling in Switzerland, the Swami one day plucked some wild
flowers and asked Mrs. Sevier to offer them at the feet of the Virgin in a little chapel in
the mountains, with the remark, 'She too is the Mother.' One of his disciples, another
day, gave him a picture of the Sistine Madonna to bless. But he refused in all humility,
and piously touching the feet of the child said, 'I would have washed his feet, not with
my tears, but with my heart's blood.' It may be remembered that the monastic Order of
Ramakrishna was started on Christmas Eve.
During the two weeks' voyage, Swami Vivekananda had ample time to reflect on the
experiences of his three years in the Western world. His mind was filled with
memories of sweet friendship, unflinching devotion, and warm appreciation from both
sides of the Atlantic. Three years before, he had come to America, unknown and
penniless, and was regarded somewhat as a curiosity from the glamorous and
inscrutable East. Now he was returning to his native land, a hero and prophet
worshipped by hundreds and admired by thousands. Guided by the finger of God he
had gone to Chicago. In the New World he had seen life at its best and its worst. He
found there a society based on the ideals of equality, justice, and freedom, where a man
— in sad contrast with India — was given every opportunity to develop his
potentialities. There the common people had reached a high standard of living and
enjoyed their well-earned prosperity in a way unimaginable in any other part of the
world. The American mind was alert, inquisitive, daring, receptive, and endowed with
a rare ethical sensitivity. He saw in America, in her men and women of letters, wealth,
and position, sparks of spirituality which kindled at the touch of his magic words. He
was impressed to see the generous confidence and richness of heart manifested through
the pure and candid souls who gave themselves to him once they had recognized him
as a trustworthy spiritual guide. They became his noble friends and slaves of love, and
did not shrink from the highest sacrifice to help in the fulfilment of his mission.
But withal, the Swami saw the vulgarity, garishness, greed, lust for power, and