Awakening in Unity: Yogananda & Rev. Moon at the Lake Shrine

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Paramahansa Yogananda:

Beloved friends of spirit,

When I first stepped onto the shores of America in 1920, I carried with me not only the sacred science of Kriya Yoga, but also a silent prayer—that East and West might meet, not just in trade or politics, but in divine understanding.

Many years later, to sit beside Reverend Sun Myung Moon at this sacred lake—my sanctuary of peace—was a fulfillment of that prayer.

He came from Korea. I came from India. Yet the moment we met, I felt no distance, no barrier. Only recognition. A soul who had also heard the Divine call. A brother who, in his own way, had given his life to awaken sleeping hearts.

In this conversation between us, there is no debate—only devotion. No contest—only communion. We speak not for ourselves, but for the One Spirit that lives within all. Jesus, whom we both love with deepest reverence, said, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” And so we offer this dialogue as a small offering of peace—for your heart, and for the world.

You may find here things familiar, and things surprising. But above all, I pray you feel something true. For that is the only purpose of words between souls: to remind each other of who we truly are.

(Note: This is an imaginary conversation, a creative exploration of an idea, and not a real speech or event.)

Table of Contents

Topic 1: Why Did We Come to America?

Topic 2: Who Is Jesus, Really?

Topic 3: What Is True Love?

Topic 4: The Role of Meditation and Prayer in the Modern World

Topic 5: The Future of Humanity — Can We Awaken in Time?

Final Thoughts by Paramahansa Yogananda

Topic 1: Why Did We Come to America?

Setting: The Lake Shrine, late afternoon. The lake reflects golden light. Paramahansa Yogananda, dressed in his flowing orange robe, sits peacefully beneath a tall pine. Rev. Sun Myung Moon arrives with a warm smile, his presence equally serene. The two men embrace like long-lost brothers.

Yogananda:
Brother Moon… I felt your soul before I ever met your form.

Rev. Moon (holding his hand gently):
And I felt yours walking across the Pacific. When I first arrived in America, I thought, “This land must have already been blessed by someone who came before.” Perhaps it was your spirit that welcomed me.

Yogananda (smiling):
I came in 1920, on a boat from India, guided by an inner call I could not deny. I saw in America a land not just of freedom, but of potential—where East and West might one day walk hand in hand.

Rev. Moon:
And I came in 1971 with a mission burning in my chest. Korea was too wounded then… but America, I believed, still carried God's hope. I came not just to speak about God, but to awaken Him in families.

Yogananda:
Ah yes, families. Your vision was so rooted in the world, while mine often floated among the stars. Yet now, I see the complement. You sought to anchor heaven on Earth through relationship.

Rev. Moon:
And you, dear brother, taught people how to ascend—to rise above the noise and hear God’s whisper inside their breath.

Yogananda (laughs softly):
Maybe we are two hands of the same divine artist—one sketching the outline of heaven, the other coloring it with love on Earth.

Rev. Moon:
Exactly. And we both came to America because it was meant to be a canvas. The nation is still young in spirit, unshaped by millennia of religious crust. I saw it as a place where something new could begin.

Yogananda:
As did I. But when I arrived, many in the West were sleeping. Their eyes were open but their hearts had not yet been introduced to silence. I came with meditation, not as an escape, but as a return.

Rev. Moon:
And I came with family as the altar. A place where love is tested, refined, and perfected. America had strong churches but no blueprint for God-centered love. That was my mission: not only to teach about God, but to restore His family.

Yogananda:
The same God, two paths. Mine inward, yours outward. But tell me—did you ever feel lonely in your early days here?

Rev. Moon (nods slowly):
Many nights. I would pray alone, weep sometimes. I was misunderstood—even hated. But God whispered, “Endure, My son. The seeds you plant will rise after your tears.”

Yogananda:
I too was seen as exotic, or even dangerous. But when a soul recognizes truth, it needs no translator. That’s what kept me going—those rare eyes that would shine with remembrance.

Rev. Moon:
You came as a messenger of unity between East and West. You brought Krishna and Christ into the same temple.

Yogananda:
And you brought Adam and Eve into God’s embrace again. We were both restoring something ancient.

Rev. Moon:
When I preached to American youth, I told them, “You are not orphans. God has never left you. You must return home—not just to church, but to love.”
Did you feel America had forgotten how to love?

Yogananda:
Not forgotten—but distracted. I saw their yearning. It was in their jazz, in their poetry, in their search for something real. They just didn’t know it was already inside them.

Rev. Moon:
So we both came not to convert, but to remind.

Yogananda (with gentle laughter):
Yes! Not to replace their faith, but to deepen it. To help them see Jesus as not just Savior, but brother, yogi, friend.

Rev. Moon:
I saw Jesus not only as the Messiah but as a son who bore too much alone. My heart broke for his loneliness. I came to finish what he could not—for that is what God asked.

Yogananda (touched):
That is devotion of the highest kind—to serve not yourself, but a vision greater than this lifetime.

Rev. Moon:
And now, we sit here—two immigrants, two servants—looking at this lake. Isn’t it funny how far we traveled to bring people home?

Yogananda:
Home is not a place. It is a state of knowing God. And it is the greatest joy to find someone else who remembers that same truth.

Rev. Moon (grasping his hand again):
Then let us walk this lake together, brother. Let the East and the West be one breath. Let us speak softly so the trees may listen.

Yogananda:
And let our words echo in the hearts of those still searching—for they are why we came.

(The two men rise slowly and begin to walk the sacred path around the lake, their robes flowing gently in the wind. The sun slips lower into the horizon, and the shrine holds their silence like a blessing.)

Topic 2: Who Is Jesus, Really?

Setting: Early evening. The lake is calm, the air still. Paramahansa Yogananda and Rev. Sun Myung Moon sit again beneath the great pine. A gentle ripple moves across the water as doves settle on a nearby branch.

Rev. Moon (gazing at the water):
Even the lake seems to hold its breath when we speak of him.

Yogananda (nodding):
Yes. His name—Jesus—carries a vibration that stirs even the stone to remembrance. But so much of who he truly was has been lost to time and fear.

Rev. Moon:
I have wept for him more times than I can count. Not because he failed, but because the world failed him. He came to build God’s kingdom on Earth—not just spiritually, but physically. Yet humanity was not ready.

Yogananda:
Indeed. The Christ was not confined to a cross, nor to a creed. He was consciousness—an awakened son of God who walked in union with the Infinite. I saw in him the same divine light that shines through Krishna, through Buddha.

Rev. Moon:
And yet, he carried a particular mission. He was not only a teacher, but the bridge—between fallen humanity and God’s original design. He came to restore the family, to marry, to show love in action.

Yogananda (gently):
And yet that part of his mission was cut short. How it must have pained his heart to love so deeply… and be crucified for it.

Rev. Moon (voice low):
I felt his sorrow many nights. He spoke to me—not in words, but in waves of grief and hope. He wanted so much more for the world. I told him, “I will carry your dream forward. I will not let it die with nails and wood.”

Yogananda:
That is devotion in its purest form. And yet, your understanding of Jesus would scandalize many Christians.

Rev. Moon:
Yes. They could not see that loving Jesus means also understanding him—not worshiping his wounds, but completing his purpose. He came to create heaven on Earth, not just to promise it after death.

Yogananda (smiling):
You speak boldly, my friend. As I did. I too said Jesus was a yogi—one who had mastered body, mind, and soul. He said, “The kingdom of God is within you.” That is not metaphor—it is invitation.

Rev. Moon:
He taught that God is a parent, not a punisher. A Father and a Mother whose love waits for every lost child. But theology made Jesus into an idol instead of a brother.

Yogananda:
Yes. A brother. A guide. A radiant example of what we too can become. He did not come to be set apart forever—he came to awaken the Christ in us all.

Rev. Moon:
And yet, how few dare to accept that. To be like Jesus? It frightens people. They’d rather sing to him than walk his path.

Yogananda (softly):
It is easier to bow before a statue than to silence the mind and face God within. I taught my disciples: meditate on Jesus until you feel his presence. Not as a man of history, but as living Spirit.

Rev. Moon:
And I told mine: build the family that Jesus never got to have. Create a lineage of love that will stand in place of the broken crosses of history.

Yogananda (looking up at the evening sky):
When I meditated on Jesus, I felt his heart was like the sea—deep, aching, endless. His loneliness came not from rejection, but from how few truly understood him.

Rev. Moon (deep breath):
That is why I have spent my life crying out to him—not “Lord, save me,” but “Brother, I am here. I understand. Let’s finish this together.”

Yogananda:
Do you think the world is ready now?

Rev. Moon:
Not yet. But cracks have formed in the walls of dogma. People are hungry again—not for religion, but for revelation. That is the world Jesus longed for.

Yogananda (smiling with joy):
And perhaps, through our combined voices—East and West, mystic and messiah—some will hear the echo of truth.

Rev. Moon:
I believe they will. His light has not gone out. It burns now in every soul brave enough to love without condition.

Yogananda (placing his hand on Rev. Moon’s heart):
Then let us be the lamps, brother. Not the light itself, but those who carry it.

Rev. Moon (returning the gesture):
And may the Christ in both of us rejoice, for his dream is not dead. It lives in the courage to see who he really was—and who we are meant to become.

(The lake grows still again. A warm wind moves through the trees. Somewhere in the shrine garden, a bell rings once—clear and eternal. The two men sit in silent reverence, Jesus alive between them.)

Topic 3: What Is True Love?

Setting: The stars begin to emerge as twilight settles over the Lake Shrine. A few lanterns glow along the walking path, their soft light dancing across the water. Paramahansa Yogananda and Rev. Sun Myung Moon remain seated on the same bench, hearts open, their voices now gentle with intimacy.

Yogananda (quietly watching the water):
What a mysterious thing love is. It moves without hands, speaks without words, and yet, it is the force that binds the galaxies and the soul.

Rev. Moon (nodding deeply):
And yet the world treats it so cheaply. They confuse love with desire, affection with possession, and forget that true love begins not with taking, but with giving.

Yogananda:
Exactly. True love is never born from need, but from realization. It is the knowing: “I and the other are not separate.” When the ego dissolves, love simply is.

Rev. Moon:
That is why I taught about “living for the sake of others.” Not as duty, but as joy. When we give unconditionally, we return to our divine origin. That’s where love becomes eternal.

Yogananda:
I often told my disciples that love is God’s perfume. You cannot see it, but you know when it’s there—because suddenly, peace arrives. Stillness. Expansion. The heart opens like a flower.

Rev. Moon (smiling):
And then comes responsibility. Love is not just feeling—it is commitment. I built my whole life around this: husband to wife, parent to child, even stranger to stranger. True love creates eternal bonds.

Yogananda (soft laugh):
You were a builder of families, and I a builder of solitude. But in truth, we were both servants of love—just in different temples.

Rev. Moon:
Yes. And love is not limited by form. Whether in marriage or meditation, in family or forest, if it brings you closer to the divine and to others, it is holy.

Yogananda:
I once told someone, “If you could feel even a fraction of God’s love, you would melt into joy for a thousand years.” That love does not punish. It uplifts, liberates.

Rev. Moon:
And it multiplies. That is the mystery. When you give it, it grows stronger. It moves from one heart to another—until nations can be healed, wars can end.

Yogananda (closing his eyes briefly):
When I was in deep meditation once, I felt a love so vast it made the stars seem like fireflies. It was the Mother aspect of God—tender, infinite, aching with compassion for every soul.

Rev. Moon (softly):
I know that love. I felt it when I held my children for the first time. I felt it when I watched my wife pray through tears. I felt it when I forgave those who betrayed me.

Yogananda:
That is the love that Christ lived. Not just the love of those who praise you, but the love that embraces even the betrayer. Judas kissed him, and still, Jesus called him friend.

Rev. Moon:
Yes. True love carries no resentment. It blesses even when bleeding. It hopes even when rejected. That is the love that can rebuild the world.

Yogananda (placing his hand over his heart):
And it is within all of us. It does not need to be created, only remembered. Love is the original language of the soul.

Rev. Moon:
And it is the language that God still speaks, waiting for His children to respond—not in words, but in action.

Yogananda:
I always felt that the greatest miracle is not walking on water, but to love purely—without fear, without conditions, without wanting anything in return.

Rev. Moon:
And I say the greatest family is one built on that love. Not control, not convenience, but devotion. A man and woman loving each other as God’s reflection—raising children not in their image, but in Heaven’s.

Yogananda (grinning):
It seems we walked different roads to the same garden.

Rev. Moon (grasping his hand):
Then let us plant a seed here—at this lake, in this moment—for anyone seeking true love to find it within themselves first. Not through romance, but remembrance.

Yogananda:
Yes, let this place be a whisper to the world: You are loved. You always have been. And you were born to love in return.

(A silence falls between them. Not empty—but full, glowing, sacred. In the distance, a small breeze stirs the chimes near the windmill chapel. The air is scented with pine and possibility.)

Topic 4: The Role of Meditation and Prayer in the Modern World

Setting: Night has fallen over the Lake Shrine. Stars shimmer above, and the water mirrors the heavens. A candle flickers beside the two men. The world around them is quiet. They speak now not just for each other—but for every seeker listening in silence.

Yogananda (gazing at the stars):
When I first introduced meditation to the West, many thought it was strange… some even feared it. But the soul has never needed permission to return home.

Rev. Moon (nodding):
And when I called people to pray with tears, to speak to God as a Parent, many laughed. They wanted results, not relationship. But still, the sincere ones stayed—and we wept together before Heaven.

Yogananda:
Prayer and meditation are not so different. Prayer is the soul’s cry. Meditation is the soul’s listening. Both are forms of union—each beautiful in its own rhythm.

Rev. Moon:
I love that. Yes, prayer is like calling out, and meditation is like hearing the echo return from God’s heart.

Yogananda (smiling):
Exactly. In prayer, we reach out with longing. In meditation, we remember we were never separate to begin with.

Rev. Moon:
In today’s world, the noise is louder than ever. So much distraction, so much digital light, so many voices shouting “Me! Me! Me!” How can anyone hear God anymore?

Yogananda:
That is why silence is more urgent than ever. Not as escape—but as medicine. Meditation is the stillness that heals the nervous system, opens the heart, and re-centers the soul.

Rev. Moon:
And prayer—deep prayer—not reciting words, but weeping for the world, crying for God’s dream, listening for His whisper—this transforms even hardened hearts.

Yogananda:
People think meditation means doing nothing. But in truth, it is the highest action—to still the mind and merge with Spirit. Only then can we act from truth, not from habit or fear.

Rev. Moon:
Yes. That’s what I taught my followers: Don’t just pray for blessings. Pray to become the blessing. Align with Heaven so completely that your very existence becomes an answer to someone else’s prayer.

Yogananda:
Beautifully said. That is the fruit of true inner practice—compassion in action.

Rev. Moon:
I encouraged daily prayer—morning, evening, even at meals. Not as ritual, but as reminder. That we are not alone. That our choices affect not only ourselves but generations to come.

Yogananda (with a gentle laugh):
In India, we say, “As you think, so you become.” Meditation is not about removing thoughts—it is about transcending them, choosing the ones that serve the soul.

Rev. Moon:
And the modern world needs this clarity more than ever. With so many lies, so much confusion, people don’t know what to trust. But when they pray or meditate sincerely, the truth arises from within.

Yogananda:
That is why I taught Kriya Yoga. Not just posture or breath, but a science of soul-liberation. It trains the mind to go inward, upward, beyond body, beyond emotion, until only God remains.

Rev. Moon (curious):
When you meditate, do you feel God as personal… or infinite?

Yogananda:
Both. First, I feel Him as light, energy, vastness. But then, He smiles as Mother… or Father… or Friend. God adapts to our love. What about you?

Rev. Moon (touched):
I always felt God as Parent. A Parent broken-hearted over His children. That’s why my prayer was often full of tears. Not for myself—but for God, and for the sorrow He carries.

Yogananda (softly):
How rare it is to pray for God. Most pray to God, asking for favors. But to feel God’s pain… that is true love.

Rev. Moon:
And that’s what I wish for this generation. Not more belief—but more experience. Not religion by inheritance, but awakening by practice.

Yogananda:
Then let us invite the world: Turn off the noise, even for a few minutes. Sit, breathe, pray, listen. You do not need to climb a mountain to find God. He is already seated in your own breath.

Rev. Moon:
And when you pray, pray as a child who trusts, who hopes, who loves the Parent more than the gift. That kind of heart will change the world.

Yogananda:
So let us teach them again. Not with pressure, but with presence. Not with argument, but with example.

Rev. Moon:
Yes. May our lives be the quiet sermon. And may everyone who sees the peace in our eyes ask, “Where did you find that?”—and may we smile and say, “Within.”

(The candle beside them flutters slightly in the breeze. Above, the stars seem to lean in closer. The two men bow their heads in silence—not to end the moment, but to expand it. In that stillness, the world breathes easier.)

Topic 5: The Future of Humanity — Can We Awaken in Time?

Rev. Moon (quietly):
Brother… sometimes I wonder. We have planted seeds all our lives. But is the soil ready? Is humanity still asleep… or just beginning to stir?

Yogananda (softly):
Every soul carries the memory of God. It is not a question of readiness, but of remembrance. Awakening is not a revolution—it is a return.

Rev. Moon:
Yes, but the world is trembling now. Division, hatred, identity without spirit. People are rising up—but often without direction. Is there enough time before we destroy ourselves?

Yogananda (calmly):
Time bends for truth. One soul awakened can shift the destiny of a thousand. The question is not “Can the world awaken?” but “Who will choose to awaken?”

Rev. Moon:
Then perhaps we are still in the birthing pains of something divine. A spiritual spring trying to break through the winter of ego.

Yogananda (nodding):
Exactly. And birth is messy, brother. The chaos, the confusion—it’s not the end. It’s the beginning. Pain awakens longing, and longing brings people back to God.

Rev. Moon:
That is my prayer. That people will tire of false freedom, false love, and return to the sacred. That they will see through the glitter and choose truth again.

Yogananda:
They will. Slowly. Some through suffering. Some through stillness. Some through love. Each soul has its own path to the divine.

Rev. Moon:
But is love enough, Yogananda? Sometimes I think humanity needs more than sweetness. It needs discipline. Restoration. A divine structure to grow within.

Yogananda (smiling):
That is why you came. To offer form. And I came to offer flow. One without the other is incomplete.

Rev. Moon (grinning):
Two wings of the same bird, then?

Yogananda:
Yes. To help humanity fly home.

(They both laugh softly, the lake reflecting their warmth.)

Rev. Moon:
But still, there are wars. Children without parents. Souls that deny even the existence of soul. How do we help them?

Yogananda (thoughtfully):
Not by preaching louder—but by radiating stronger. Let every person become a living proof of peace. When someone meets us, let them feel God—even if they do not know His name.

Rev. Moon:
So our lives themselves must be the message.

Yogananda:
Yes. And our love the invitation. You see, God doesn’t force awakening. He whispers it—through beauty, kindness, a stranger’s smile. These are the gentle knocks on the door of the soul.

Rev. Moon (with emotion):
Then we must keep knocking. Even if they don't answer yet. Because when they finally open the door, it must be love that stands waiting.

Yogananda:
Exactly. And they must feel no shame—only welcome. That is how we save the world: not by conquest, but by remembrance.

Rev. Moon:
Still, I feel time pressing. I feel Heaven urging. There is so little margin left. Earth cries out. Families fracture. Even religion itself is weary.

Yogananda (gently):
Yes. But pressure can create diamonds. And sometimes, the darkest night is just before the dawn.

Rev. Moon:
Do you believe we will see the dawn?

Yogananda (looking up at the stars):
We already are. Look closely—among the young, the artists, the humble hearts. Look at the souls rising up with no name or platform, only purity. They are the new saints, the new servants.

Rev. Moon:
I have seen them too. In tears. In prayer. In their longing for something more. They are not yet organized—but their hearts are ready.

Yogananda:
Then let us bless them, even now. Let this conversation echo in their spirits. Let them know they are not alone. The future is not in the hands of presidents or priests—it is in the awakening of each individual soul.

Rev. Moon (softly, with deep conviction):
Yes. And let us remind them: Heaven is not far. It is waiting to be chosen—every moment, with every breath.

Yogananda (reaching out his hand):
Then let us seal this moment. You and I, two souls from different lands, bound by the same divine longing—that all beings awaken and return to love.

Rev. Moon (taking his hand firmly):
Together, brother. Not in competition, but in completion. Our voices as one prayer. Our lives as one offering.

(They rise slowly, hand in hand. The mist around the lake parts as if in silent witness. The stars shine brighter above. And somewhere in the unseen, a great bell tolls—soft, deep, eternal.)