Today I had the meditation group after school. Three turned up in spite of the rain and the wind. It was very calm and peaceful in the little chapel. I began to think about where saying the mantra over and over again leads. It brought up a possible question someone might ask – why concentrate on the mantra to the exclusion of thought? It occurred to me that in the journey to the cave of the heart, when one enters the cave, a holy place, it wouldn’t do to be distracted, to be so busy with ones thoughts that one didn’t know what was going on, that one didn’t notice the beauty and experience the peace. That’s why it is important not to be caught up in thoughts, why one needs to be alert and aware, receptive to everything. In one sense it is a long journey to the cave. One goes through many moods, states of mind, is buffeted by many storms. The thing to do is press on regardless. To disregard all that is going on round about. I was trying not to think of all this, telling myself that I would write it all down later, when all that was bothering me vanished and I felt immersed in peace, quite indescribable. I kept saying, ‘This is now. The eternal is in the now.’ The journey to the cave is the shortest journey. One was there all the time but did not know it.
Meditation
July 7th, 2007Cosmic dance
July 6th, 2007I keep thinking about the metaphor of the cosmic dance as a description of reality. Barbour* quotes Peacock who says that God is like a choreographer of an ongoing dance, or the composer of a still unfinished symphony, experimenting, improvising and expanding on a theme and variations. It is nice to see that others have the same sort of insights. How does one go about helping others to become aware that they, we, all of us are caught up in a kaleidoscopic interchange? We worry but worry is a form of selfishness. It is trying to keep all the strands of ones relationships hugged close and tight. It is only by letting go and giving oneself and others over to the dance that freedom comes.
*Barbour I.G; Religion in an Age of Science, SCM, London, 1991 p. 177
Being human
July 5th, 2007Coming out of Mass tonight, as we were driving away I overheard two men talking. We were driving very slowly and my window was open. One was saying, “I asked the priest why God allows mentally handicapped people to be born. Do you know what he said?” I didn’t hear what the other replied. The first went on, “He said that they are the luckiest people in the world; they don’t know the difference between right and wrong.”
It set me thinking. We had Father — for Mass and I wondered if it was he the man was talking about. I always wish when I hear things like this that I was in the situation so that I could point out what I think. What a theology of man is included in such a view!! The mind boggles. What a tragedy it would be to be born not knowing the difference between right and wrong. The essence of being human is to know right from wrong. Never to have to wrestle with good and evil, to choose between better or worse, between selfishness and love; such a person would never achieve maturity; such a person could never become a saint, never aspire to the heights.
Then I began to think a little further. Is this the ideal that the Church, or at least this priest, is presenting? Perfection is innocence – never to have known evil. Does this mean never to have known good? Are they not two sides of the same coin? To be an untouched virgin, a child in spirit. I can see why the hierarchy would want to put across this ideal. If the institutional Church were made up of such it would have few or no problems, no dissent, just meekness and obedience. Is this why the cult of the Virgin is promoted? And does it go deeper, I wondered? Is there a longing on the part of such priests for a return to the protection of childhood innocence and the insulation from responsibility that went with it? I wouldn’t be surprised. There is something very deep here which needs to be further thought out.
Then there is the, unforgivable really, mistaken idea of what it is like to be mentally handicapped. No comprehension of the agony, the unending frustration, the daily torture of being a prisoner of a wayward brain, of malfunctioning chemistry, of errant genes. It may well be that some live in a state of bliss but you only have to look at the agonised faces and afflicted bodies to know that they are not many.
Reality
July 4th, 2007The more I think about it and the more I read it seems to me that the correlation between inner and outer is far more extensive and deep rooted than we can ever dream or imagine. I was reading about the difference between objective and subjective survival after death. The latter is a worry. It is impossible to imagine disembodied existence. Out of the body and near death experiences are no help really because they always occur in the context of the body and relate to the body. The problem arises when there is no body at all; when the body has decomposed and all that remains are scattered atoms and molecules. What then? I think the solution, or a possible solution, lies in the insight of Irenaeus. “God became man so that man might become God.” This is not to be thought of as a drop of water falling into, and becoming merged with, the ocean. Much more it is becoming in the sense of union without loss of individual identity. A participating in the being and the activity of God. Unimaginable. Yet the incredible thing is that it is a present reality – the only thing is that it is not a reality of which we are conscious. Sometimes there are glimmerings that we are standing on the threshold of an unimaginable vastness of being, sometimes a sense that this so solid and substantial world is translucent and reality is only an enclosing shell. Crack through the shell, break out of the egg and then we shall know.
The new mysticism
July 3rd, 2007Reading William Johnston’s Letters to Contemplatives.* He talks about a new mysticism. It is coming to birth, he says, as a result of a dialogue with Eastern religions. It has five characteristics.
1. It appeals to the laity and not just to monks and nuns, although the gurus and teachers still tend, in the main, to be celibate religious. Contemplation is not just the preserve of the few.
2. It speaks a different language. It does not use the abstract terminology of the scholastic theologians. It is holistic and person centred. It is aware of the distinction between the ego and the self; it is filled with awe and wonder, not just of God, but also of the mystery of the self; it is aware that the person is multidimensional and of the complexity of consciousness in the process of development and transformation; it is aware of the flow of energy within and without.
3. It emphasises the importance of posture and breathing.
4. It stresses the importance of faith – a radical faith which sustains in the darkness and the nothingness. (I am not sure that this is something new.)
5. There is emphasis on enlightenment. Mysticism has a goal – the experience of God.
To all this I would add something else. The new mysticism is not just situated within the structures and rituals of institutions and churches. Nor is it dependent on particular life-styles such as celibacy, community living, solitude, or daily routines. The former are important in that they provide continuity and a context within which knowledge can be passed on. The latter are important if a person wants to explore and develop his experience and achieve enlightenment. But they are not necessary and there are many, many who live with a deep awareness of the interconnectedness of all that is, and especially, of all life; who are aware of their immersion in and emergence from the One who is at the heart of all that is; for whom the material world, the now world, is translucent – that through the thin membranes which circumscribe our existence shines the love and the joy of a Reality which cannot be expressed.
This is the new mysticism. It is a mysticism based on experience and not enculturation, or methodology. The most interesting thing from the point of view of the Catholic Church is that it does not necessarily arise from the experience of church going, from the liturgy, or from the sacraments – though all of these are milieux where God is encountered by many believers and the result of mystical experience may be a turning to and an increased commitment to the Church for some. But the important point is that the Church and its liturgy is not the primary source of their encounter with God. God is experienced in living and this experience of God in the day to day rush, in the routine tasks and chores, in personal encounters and relationships, in the interludes and in the (short) moments of silence, solitude and awareness is often of a heart-stopping intensity.
Another thing about the new mysticism is that it is not terribly conscious of being a way, or a ladder, or a journey towards perfection, or enlightenment, or union. ‘Professional’ mystics, if one may use that term, monks and nuns and lay people with spiritual advisers, whether Christian, Hindu or Buddhist, are the inheritors of their spiritual traditions and are constantly being reminded of the paucity of their experience in comparison with the giants of the past. A path and its stages is mapped out for them together with constant warnings of dangers and false trails.
The modern mystic knows none of this, at least, not at first. All he knows is his experience and, because he has nothing to compare it with, it is appreciated for what it is. There is a freshness and an innocence and a humility which is not to be found in communities dedicated to spiritual athleticism. An exemplar of all this is Etty Hillesum. More on her later.
* Fount, London, 1991
Signs and meaning
July 2nd, 2007Is that it? Is that what ultimate reality is – a quantum vacuum? But then I began to think – this is the danger of rationalising, of using verbal symbols in order to try to understand and articulate reality. In the end we produce a formula, a collection of symbols which is a description – just that and nothing more. ‘Ultimate reality is a quantum vacuum’ is just as inadequate as ‘God is Trinity’. In a sense both are negative statements. Each expression says more about what ultimate reality, or God is not than what it is. What is needed is a language of experience.
Words are signs, signs invested with meaning. The signs are arbitrary. Dog, chien, perro all mean the same thing. We understand the signs because we have learnt what they mean through experience. We can use signs and symbolic reasoning to extend our knowledge. We may have experience of A+B and B+C but we may never have experienced A+C. However by the use of logical reasoning we can extrapolate from our knowledge of A,B and C to make a good guess at the results of A+C. All this is spelled out in Charles Tart’s essay ‘Hidden Shackles’ (Tart Charles T., Hidden Shackles: Implicit Assumptions that Limit Freedom of Action and Enquiry in Zollschan, Schumaker and Walsh eds., Exploring the Paranormal, Prism Press, Dorset,1989)
The problem lies a) in discussing reality beyond our experience, reality which we have not experienced and to which we give signs which are rooted in our experience but which may or may not be useful in describing this extra-experiential reality, and b) in discussing one’s subjective experience.
a) We can do the first 1) by the use of analogy and metaphor and 2) by the use of logic to manipulate these analogies and metaphors to make deductions. The problems with this approach are
• The appropriateness of the analogies and metaphors. ‘Father’ is not much use as a description of God to someone who has been abused as a child by his father. We must be very careful not to confuse the analogy with the analogue, the metaphor with the metaphrand.
• Hidden assumptions. Unless we are aware of these, and of the fact that to a great extent our perception is constructed, we are not going to get very far. We must be open to surprise.
• When all is said and done the deductions and conclusions are still only signs and symbols which may extend our thinking but do not extend our experience.
b) This is why it is so important if we are to communicate our subjective experience that our analogies and metaphors should be rooted in common experience and not in the intellect or intellectual conceits.
Karma and forgiveness
July 1st, 2007An interesting thought about karma and the need for this idea in Christianity. Kenny, in his book Christ outside Christianity* says that one of the drawbacks with this idea is that it does away with the idea and sin and forgiveness. But I think this is to misunderstand both karma and forgiveness. I don’t think there can be any doubt that what we do has an effect on us. Good actions have a good effect, bad actions a bad effect. There is no escape from the consequences of our actions. This idea, according to Kenny, deprives us of forgiveness – one of the most beautiful concepts in Christianity. If there is a law of karma, he says, there can be no forgiveness.
I think karma and forgiveness operate in two different dimensions. Karma has to do with our becoming, with our making of ourselves. Karma is the effect of my actions on me. Forgiveness has to do with relationships. Forgiveness can set right my broken relationships, between me and others, between me and God. Once the relationship has been healed, my healing can begin. But forgiveness does not wipe out the effect of my sin on me. It does not immediately make me a non-sinner. This was one of Luther’s insights and perhaps a knowledge of karma might have helped him to find a solution to his problem earlier. I may be forgiven, but the ‘I’ that has been forgiven is the ‘I’ that I have had a hand in making and the only thing better about the forgiven ‘I’ is that now ‘I’ relates and before ‘I’ did not. The relating is all important because in this new relationship a new ‘I’ begins to emerge.
* Kenny, J.P.,Christ Outside Christianity, Spectrum, Melburn, 1971
Giving birth
June 30th, 2007Life seems to be about giving birth. Paul talks about all creation groaning in travail as what is to be struggles to become.
Giving birth is not a momentary event which happens once at the beginning. It is not just the emergence of the new born from the old, and then the two exist, new and old, side by side.
Giving birth is a process, a long drawn out process of gradual emergence of the new from the old, of new drawing its being from the old, of the new drawing out the being of the old, changing it and transforming it.
Giving birth can be a painful experience when the being of the old is caught up in the new which has not learnt to see and blindly wheels, stumbles and gropes, wounded and bleeding. It is also a joyful process but, more often than not, the joy is mixed with suffering.