Author Archives: Monksway

Puzzles, Enigmas, Bewilderments, Perplexities

Among the Sufis perplexity is a very important notion and a critical stage in spiritual growth.  My perplexities are not that kind of thing….a bit more mundane but still quite significant.  Here’s a few of them:

A.  Recently there was a story on CNN about the Holy Grail!  And relics in general.

https://www.cnn.com/holy-grail-leon-spain-valencia-genoa/index.html#:~:text=In%20Europe%20alone%2C%20there%20are,them%20and%20pray%20over%20them.

It appears that there are something like 200 churches in Europe that claim they have the Holy Grail (and how many heads of John the Baptist are there?)!  And somebody said that if you added up all the wood that is claimed to be from the Holy Cross, you would be able to build a house.  It seems that in Late Antiquity and in the medieval world there was quite a “relic industry.”  People wanted relics and mementos; people got what they wanted. (Today the tourist business thrives in places with this kind of stuff.) There is a very popular kind of religiosity that seems to be almost centered on relics, “holy sites,” miraculous saints, etc.  I don’t understand this; it is, at least to me, a big puzzle.  

When I was a little boy, I collected baseball cards.  It gave me a feeling of “connectedness” with those guys whom I idolized.  So I kind of get that.  Then, when I was a novice monk, my novice master gave me a relic of St. Sharbel, the Lebanese hermit whom I admired.  And a friend gave me a small rock which he  had brought back from Mt. Athos.  These also gave me a sort of reassuring “connectedness,” but they were not even a small theme in my spirituality.  But it appears that these kind of things seem to be so central to many people. This feels like a crypto  superstition.  So, instead of focusing mind and heart and one’s whole being and life on that one reality which we call God, folks obsess about miracles, “incorrupt bodies,” speaking in tongues, possessing or seeing relics of “holy people,” “holy sites,” paranormal phenomena, etc.   I am totally bewildered what that spirituality is all about.

B.  The election uncovers another bunch of awful puzzles.  Consider this:  a remarkable number of Christians, mostly Protestant Evangelicals, support Trump.  And not just support but believe that he is somehow “God’s chosen one” to protect us from “satanic forces.”  Here is an NBC News story about this:

https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/2024-election/christians-swarm-washington-pray-america-turn-god-electing-trump-rcna175162

I am totally dumbfounded!  One wonders what is  going on!?  Makes one sympathetic to atheists! 

C.   I identify with the Catholic community, so you might think that I feel smug and congratulating myself that I am “not like them,”  the folks above.  Nope.  Can’t do.  There was a poll taken at Notre Dame University among the students, and it turned out that the majority of students preferred Trump.  Catholic voters in Pennsylvania are polling in favor of Trump, etc.  Here’s another recent story:

https://www.ncronline.org/news/catholic-voters-favor-trump-most-battleground-states-according-new-ncr-poll

 Also, so many figures in the Trump camp, like Vance, claim to be committed Catholics.  At the very least don’t these people know something of Catholic social thought?  Odd.  General Milley, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs during the Trump years, recently said that Trump is a “fascist to the core” and “the most dangerous man” to the welfare of this country.  Things like this do not seem to bother these Catholics.  I really wonder what constitutes the religiosity of these people, what is their spirituality all about?  

One could say that the issue of abortion holds sway here, and I think that may be partially true.  But one issue does not explain this phenomenon.  And I am afraid there is a darker truth here.  Again, not the whole story but definitely it  is  there as a factor.  Over the years you will find a strain of Catholicism that is inclined toward authoritarianism, both in Church and State.  There is this need to impose, even by force, one’s notion of Christianity, indeed, even of Catholicism  itself, one’s notion of social order, one’s notion of patriotism, etc.  These folks have never been comfortable with how messy democracy can get.  Like the monarchist Catholics in France who yearn for some kind of “restoration” of the “old order,” these people look at the pope as s kind of king, and the bishop in his diocese as a kind of king within that realm; and the Church is a Kingdom.  The celebration of the Feast of Christ the King is no longer a redefinition and transformation of power into servanthood, but a theologically warped celebration of religious power.   It’s not hard to see  how that kind of Catholic would be attracted to someone oozing with aspirations to be a “strong man,” a dictator in effect if not in name.  Given all this, I am still puzzled by how warped the Catholicism of some Americans is.  If only they could recognize the distortions within their religiosity……

D.  American history.  I love reading  that stuff and pondering what I learn there.  Inevitably one runs up against a “brick wall” of understanding….it’s impossible to figure out the rationale for some things….because there isn’t any.  Among  the most prominent of these, I think, is slavery.  

The fact is that most Southerners in the pre-Civil War era did not own slaves.  I have seen various estimations that range from 10% to something like 30%.  But the other fact is that the “Southern cause” enthralled the overwhelming majority of Southerners.  Most of those men walking into the fierce Union firepower at Gettysburg…Pickett’s Charge…did not own  slaves.  What were they willing to die for?  For a small minority to be able to own slaves?  Probably not.  Some Southern historians put it this way: for loyalty….to their  land…they were mostly farmers…most of the Southern economy was agrarian…the land which was invaded by the “industrial” North.  Also, loyalty then to their way of life, loyalty to their State, loyalty even to Robert E. Lee.   Insane and delusional.  Thus the myth of the “Lost Cause” rose up, the myth that the South was engaged in a “noble cause.”  It was a lie and a delusion then, and so it is today, no matter what some historians are saying.  It didn’t matter that so few actually owned slaves….the fact is they all tolerated slavery.  After their defeat in the war, the South worked as a whole to structure their society in a segregationist way….not to mention the Klan, vigilante groups, and brutal police forces that terrorized Black people.  Today the South and the border states are peppered with various mementos that valorize this delusion and maintain a remnant of a deeply enigmatic attitude of the  heart, and there is a strong resistance to taking down the statues or renaming some institutions, etc.

  But lest the North get sanctimonious about it, we need to remember that the phenomenon of segregation was prevalent also in the North even if it was not totally institutionalized.  How white people considered black people was a national tragedy that to this day affects us all.  In the Old South this enigma that I am pointing to is the desire not just to see certain people as inferior but even more so to turn another human being into a commodity, a property that I can own.  This goes beyond “not liking” someone, hating them, even seeing them as an “enemy.”  Where does that come from?  Incidentally, slavery in the ancient world was not racially based….usually it meant that you were on the losing side of a war or some conflict.  In the U.S. it was deemed that a whole class of people by nature were somehow less than human or that a whole class of people  can be turned into a commodity because of their very nature.

A religious angle to all this:  where were all the Christian churches in all this?   Apparently all over the place…..from the few that supported the Abolitionist Movement and the Underground Railroad to the many in the Deep South who exemplified a deafening silence about how all this should look to a follower of Christ.  One should also add that a number of religiously grounded colleges, even in the North, benefited from trafficking in slaves.  But what really gets me is that the Jesuits in Maryland owned slaves.  How these ecclesial elites, well-trained in religion and secular studies, endorsed such a practice totally bewilders me.

E.  Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus.  Love the Latin…so succinct!  Usually translated as:  Outside the Church there is no salvation.  First enunciated in this form by St. Cyprian of Carthage in the 3rd Century, early patristic period.  I forget when but at some point it was declared as an infallible doctrine of the Roman Catholic Church.  I suppose by now one can see a “little” problem in all this!

For centuries, until the Vatican II Council in the early ‘60s, this statement was taken literally.  In part this explains the strong missionary push by the Church, and you can also kind of see how the European colonists looked at the people of the New World…..a part of the “massa damnata” that was doomed to hell.  So even coerced conversions were for their own good!  There were some remarkable exceptions like the few Jesuits who made it to China and India in the  17th Century.  They were overwhelmed by the beauty, the power, the depth of the religious consciousness they found there.  They tried to adjust their Christianity to fit in but the Vatican put a stop to all that.

With Vatican II the Church softened its view of the other great world religions, but the theologians could not do away with an infallibly declared position.  So there was a problem!  They came up with various solutions, like looking at all these other religions as a good preparation for Christianity and therefore as somewhat “salvific” in a sense; or looking at other religionists as “anonymous Christians,” and so on.   Catholics who had real and deep contact with authentic religious practitioners from the other world religions found these solutions inadequate at best or even totally wrong.  Merton simply ignored this dilemma in the last years of his life and continued exploring the depths of Buddhism and Islam.  The actual lives of these people spoke to him more than the limitations  of some doctrinal conundrum.  Abhishiktananda is even more  interesting because more radical.  In the last years of his life he simply rejected all this.  For him Christianity, the Church,  was “incomplete” without the presence  and insights of the other great world religions.  Our understanding of Christ and who we are is deficient in a serious way without  the vision of the other great religions.  Needless to say doctrinally this does not fly!  At least in any official sense.  And to me it seems that it presents an even deeper enigma…..but one in which I feel much more at home.

The Tao of the Wilderness / The Wilderness of the Tao

I am sitting by a campfire, lively breeze blowing through  giant pine trees, granite cliffs on one side, distant snow-capped mountains on the other; a stream flowing downhill over pebbles and boulders can be heard in the distance; at night the pitch black sky lights up with seemingly endless stars, somewhere far off an owl hooting….  I make a cup of coffee over the fire and converse with this wilderness…. 

Mostly we don’t think of that starry sky as also a wilderness, but it is that.  It is “wild” in the root meaning of that word, not humanly controlled or manipulated, not running by human wisdom, but by its own inner wisdom which the ancient Chinese called the Tao.  I look at the Milky Way, that fuzzy white spread of millions of stars like our sun, our galaxy, and millions of other galaxies out there whose light takes millions, even billions of years to get here….it is all so incomprehensibly and unimaginably vast, and yet in a very real way it is all our home.  Every atom of every fiber of our being was made in those stars billions of years ago…and so with everything we touch, we breathe, we eat….  In the deepest sense there is nothing “out there” that is alien to us.

“Nature is not a place to visit. It is home.”

                                                           Gary Snyder

“I greet the breeze that happens along,

                  and lift a cup to offer to the vastness….”

                                                    Su Shih

BUT, there is a sad story to tell: 

I’ve written about this before, but it bears repeating—we, modern humans, experience different kinds of relationships to what we call wilderness:

  1. Wilderness is seen as a resource for wealth….lumber, metals, farmlands, land for development, land ownership(privatization of wilderness land), etc.  In other words, wilderness as another commodity.
  2. Wilderness as a context for recreation….simply another theme park….
  3. Wilderness as an obstacle, a challenge….  The first Europeans who came  upon the Grand Canyon cursed it because  it was getting in their way on the search for the fabled “Seven Cities of Gold.”  Today people jack up their Jeeps and trucks with massive tires and love to ride over the wild terrain.  
  4. Wilderness as a context and a kind of boundary for religious/spiritual engagement.  This one is fascinating in its various convolutions:  The early English colonists in North America saw the wilderness as “dangerous,” where the devil had free play, where the “heathen Indians” lived.  Two centuries later, the whole thing flips around in the American Transcendentalist Movement with Emerson and Thoreau, where the wilderness is the locus of spiritual growth.  Similarly with the ancient Christian monks in a not so obvious way.  Wilderness as “opening an inner door” to a Mystery of Wholeness.

Nothing really new in all this….in many ways these four have been with us for a long time…..but it was not always looked on as “wilderness.”

The root of the word “wilderness” is of course “wild,” and this word has taken on so many different shades of meaning over the centuries. “Wild” signifies processes and dynamics that are not human guided, human controlled, human originated, etc.   Millenia ago, during the period of hunter-gatherer cultures, what we call “wilderness” was simply “home.”  There was not this distinction, this dichotomy.  And even in recent ages for some indigenous cultures which had not been touched by the great civilizations of Europe or Asia, this was still true.  Chief Luther Standing Bear:  “Only to the white man was nature a ‘wilderness’ and only to him was the land ‘infested’ with ‘wild’  animals and ‘savage’ people. To us it was tame. Earth was bountiful and we were surrounded with the blessings of the Great Mystery. Not until the hairy man from the east came and with brutal frenzy heaped injustices upon us and the families that we loved was it ‘wild’ for us. When the very animals of the forest began fleeing from his approach, then it was that for us the ‘Wild West’ began.” 

 

Gary Snyder:  “Wilderness is a place where the wild potential is fully expressed, a diversity of living and nonliving beings flourishing according to their own sorts of order. In ecology we speak of “wild systems.” When an ecosystem is fully functioning, all the members are present at the assembly. To speak of wilderness is to speak of wholeness. Human beings came out of that wholeness, and to consider the possibility of reactivating membership in the Assembly of All Beings is in no way regressive….  The wild-often dismissed as savage and chaotic by “civilized” thinkers, is actually impartially, relentlessly, and beautifully formal and free. Its expression-the richness of plant and animal life on the globe including us, the rainstorms, windstorms, and calm spring mornings-is the real world, to which we belong.”

                                                                     

An ancient Chinese poet wrote:  “The nation is destroyed; mountains and rivers remain.”  The poet was Tu Fu (often written as Du Fu), one of China’s finest poets and a giant figure in world literature.  He lived during the great Tang Period, around 750 CE.  This line is taken from a poem written during the end of that period when the cultural, religious, and technical achievements of the Tang were destroyed through a brutal civil war.  Tu Fu’s poetry is suffused with a quiet sadness at the  impermanence of all human constructs, all human endeavors, all that is human….and he engages a kind of awestruck consolation in contemplating the natural world….a theme much favored by many Chinese poets and artists.  From this evolves the awareness that human beings are simply a part of a great community of Being of which  each member, whether it be a blade of grass, a butterfly, a human being, a star, a kitten,  a mountain, a river, etc., unfolds in being through a hidden inner dynamic they called Tao.

Many, many centuries later, a new awareness unfolds,….a modern Japanese poet imitated this line but in reversal:  “Mountains and rivers are destroyed, but the State remains.”

“One of the penalties of an ecological education is that one lives alone in a world of wounds. Much of the damage inflicted on land is quite invisible to laymen. An ecologist must either harden his shell and make believe that the consequences of science are none of his business, or he must be the doctor who sees the marks of death in a community that believes itself well and does not want to be told otherwise.”

                                                     Aldo Leopold

“Something will have gone out of us as a people if we ever let the remaining wilderness be destroyed; if we permit the last virgin forests to be turned into comic books and plastic cigarette cases; if we drive the few remaining members of the wild species into zoos or to extinction; if we pollute the last clear air and dirty the last clean streams and push our paved roads through the last of the silence . . .”

                            Wallace Stegner

We get the message!

The fact is that the wilderness has been attacked, abused, exploited in all cultures and in all ages, more or less.  In the Critias, one of Plato’s Dialogues, one of the characters laments about the clear-cutting on the outskirts of Athens which caused serious soil erosion.  Gary Snyder says that as a young man he thought that he had  found in the Japanese and Chinese world, cultures that lived in harmony with nature.  When he went over there he found  that picture was only partially true and more complicated than he first realized.  And so it is everywhere…… Snyder also said that in his opinion the last humans to live in a fully harmonious and true relationship with nature were the neolithic hunter-gatherers.  The moment you have the development of settled communities in agriculture, you begin the process of urbanization and civilization, and then somehow humans lose a certain sense of their place in the great scheme of things and their interactions with the surrounding natural world are largely negative.  (They are tossed out of “Paradise!”)  All the great urban civilizations of the past, Babylon, Athens, Rome, Jerusalem, Xian, etc. have shown destructive tendencies and ignorance of who and what they are  The landscapes of Europe, China….are nothing like what they were 5000, 10,000  years ago.  And modern civilization is way past that point where we can even imagine what that awareness was like.  Mother Nature seems to be trying to get our attention through climate change, but does it really look like we “get it”!?  In modern civilization we find ourselves in this technological/electronic cocoon where wild nature seems alien to most of us, something “out there,”  something maybe set aside for us, for our recreation or perhaps exploitation….  What is  needed here is not some “good intentions,” but a real  transformation of consciousness/awareness that we are a real part of this wild nature and it is truly part of us.  In other words a new, deeper sense of our place in the Community of All Beings.

You would think that religion would help in this regard.  Can only speak for my own Christianity, and this is a truly muddled affair!  There have been environmentalists who have put the whole blame for environmental degradation on a certain mindset that Christianity brings.  They point to Genesis and that mandate to “subdue the earth” and hold dominion over all its creatures…..that this kind of language leads us to see ourselves apart from the natural world, superior to it,  and to activity that is simply for our own gain.  Then, when the first Europeans came to this continent, they came armed with this mindset to the nth degree!  They saw before them a vast wilderness, that which was not civilization as they knew it,  that they could “subdue” and hold dominion over.  Much more troubling, however, were the people who lived in this wilderness, whose very humanity could be questioned; well, they were “wild” in this scheme of things, so they too could be “subdued” and put under the newcomers dominion….if they managed to stay alive…..  The rest of this history is too awful to think about…..

Modern Christian theologians and thinkers have tried to correct this view.  They claim that such an interpretation of Genesis was a distortion of the meaning in the creation story…that humans are charged with a kind of stewardship of the natural world, and the “good steward” is an emphatic scriptural trope.  Pope Francis has reminded us of all that.  That may well be the case; but there still is a problem.  That  mandate is at the very least ambiguous, but more importantly even this “stewardship” thing creates a framework of dualism when you look at wilderness/the natural world.  There is you, the human, and there is the “other,” wild nature; and how do the two “meet” and what transpires in that meeting?

 “Conservation is getting nowhere because it is incompatible with our Abrahamic concept of land. We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect.”

                                                                            Aldo Leopold

But there are hints and resources within Christianity for a much different kind of vision, something beyond and deeper than stewardship.  Consider Francis of Assisi, even Isaac the Syrian, or take a look at a fictional representation of a whole tradition in Dostoevsky’s Father Zosima.   And various modern Christian voices like Thomas Merton’s….one of Merton’s favorite lines from the Old Testament was Job 39:26:  “Is it by your wisdom that the hawk soars….”  It doesn’t sound like we “own” that hawk!  There’s a Zen  koan in here somewhere!  He called it a pure Zen insight, but that whole “speech” of Yahweh is harmonious with what the ancient Chinese mystics called the Tao.  And then there is the very committed modern Catholic writer, Wendell Berry:

“Until we understand what the land is, we are at odds with everything we touch. And to come to that understanding it is necessary, even now, to leave the regions of our conquest – the cleared fields, the towns and cities, the highways – and re-enter the woods. For only there can a man encounter the silence and the darkness of his own absence. Only in this silence and darkness can he recover the sense of the world’s longevity, of its ability to thrive without him, of his inferiority to it and his dependence on it. Perhaps then, having heard that silence and seen that darkness, he will grow humble before the place and begin to take it in – to learn from it what it is. As its sounds come into his hearing, and its lights and colors come into his vision, and its odors come into his nostrils, then he may come into its presence as he never has before, and he will arrive in his place and will want to remain. His life will grow out of the ground like the other lives of the place, and take its place among them. He will be with them – neither ignorant of them, nor indifferent to them, nor against them – and so at last he will grow to be native-born. That is, he must reenter the silence and the darkness, and be born again.”

Very sound and deep,  theologically and spiritually!

And, in concluding our story:

“Pull down thy vanity, it is not man

Made courage, or made order, or made grace,

Pull down thy vanity, I say pull down.

Learn of the green world what can be thy place.”

               Ezra Pound, Canto LXXXI

“The sun shines not on us but in us. The rivers flow not past, but through us. Thrilling, tingling, vibrating every fiber and cell of the substance of our bodies, making them glide and sing. The trees wave and the flowers bloom in our bodies as well as our souls, and every bird song, wind song, and tremendous storm song of the rocks in the heart of the mountains is our song, our very own, and sings our love.”  

                                   John Muir

Undoing Spiritual Knots

Seyyed Hossein Nasr, the Islamic scholar, wrote:  “Every authentic spirituality has  its distinct perfume which is an extension of the perfume of paradise….”  Indeed!  However, one could also say that likewise each authentic spirituality has an aspect, a version, a subtext, that perhaps entangles one in what I would call “spiritual knots,” driving one into futility, frustration, or just plain delusion….definitely not paradise!  I am not going to define what a “spiritual knot” is nor go more into it.  It is more of a fuzzy term that covers a number of issues and problems but all converging on one point.  We will simply look at a few examples, sayings, expressions, etc. that perhaps hint at what is the essence of the “spiritual knot,” that one point.

Each religious tradition can enable or even engender the build-up of spiritual knots, but also each has the resources within itself to “undo” the knot and free the person.  And each tradition has individuals who see through the “problem”  and are free and are a revelation of “what it’s all about!”  I said “each” religious tradition, but here I will risk an unprovable opinion:  the Islamic Sufis seem to me to be best at this business of “undoing spiritual knots” (and perhaps Zen comes a close second!);  and my own Christian tradition may very well be among the best at facilitating these knots….but I won’t push that point!  So this little survey will be top heavy with Sufis!  Let us begin:

  1. An old Sufi saying:  “On the heart of Poverty three renouncements are inscribed:  Quit this world.  Quit the next world.  Quit quitting.”

Comments:  

A Rinzai Zen master could not be sharper or more direct.

  Some spiritual seekers (in all traditions) try to turn Poverty into a “merit badge” for a “spiritual boy scout”!  This ends that. 

Do not think that this is Step 1, Step 2, Step 3.

Most spiritual seekers think they know what this quitting is all about.  Turns out that it usually takes a long life’s journey before one gets a hint…if even then…..   In other words, do not think that you know what this quitting will entail in your life.  Hint: it’s not giving up stuff in Lent!

Recall the Desert Father stories about several old monks who are beset by robbers.   In one story, after the robbers leave, the old monk laments that he wished he had more to give them.  In another story, the old monk chases after the robbers with an item that he says they forgot to take!  Zen has similar stories.

Quiz:  Which quitting is operative in these stories?  None?  All?  Or which one?   (The answer  key  is to be found in your own heart.)

  1. Bulleh Shah, a true master of undoing spiritual (and social) knots.  So little known in the West, but a revered Sufi holy man among his people.  Philosopher, poet in the his Punjabi language, Sufi, revolutionary reformer, lived around 1700 in the Punjab….today a part of Pakistan, bordering India.  Persecuted by fundamentalist Islamic authorities in his own time, he lived impoverished his whole life but always joyous; he challenged the caste system which was absolute in his day; questioned religious authorities; had to run for his life at least once, but today revered as a holy man and prophet.  Needless to say, his poetry, difficult to translate, has no excellent translators, loses a lot in translation (a lot of it is a bit rich in affective language for my taste)…..but you can still catch the thought ….and it leaves you amazed and speechless.  Here is an example, one of his most famous poems:

Not a believer in the mosque am I,
Nor a disbeliever with his rites am I.
I am not the pure amongst the impure,
I am neither Moses nor Pharaoh.
Bulleh, I know not who I am.

Not in the holy books am I,
Nor do I dwell in bhang or wine,
Nor do I live in a drunken haze,
Nor in sleep or waking known.
Bulleh, I know not who I am.

Not in happiness or in sorrow am I found.
I am neither pure nor mired in filthy ground.
Not of water nor of land,
Nor am I in air or fire to be found.
Bulleh, I know not who I am.

Not an Arab nor Lahori,
Not a Hindi or Nagouri,
Nor a Muslim or Peshawari,
Not a Buddhist or a Christian.
Bulleh, I know not who I am.

Secrets of religion have I not unravelled,
I am not of Eve and Adam.
Neither still nor moving on,
I have not chosen my own name!
Bulleh, I know not who I am.

From first to last, I searched myself.
None other did I succeed in knowing.
Not some great thinker am I.
Who is standing in my shoes, alone?

Bulleh, I know not who I am.”


― Bulleh Shah

And then there is this:

Going to Makkah is not the ultimate,

Even if hundreds of prayers are offered.

Going to River Ganges is not the ultimate,

Even if hundreds of cleansings (Baptisms) are done.

Bulleh Shah, the ultimate is

When the “I” is removed from the heart!

M

(An excerpt from “Makkeh Gaya” poem)

Comments:  Like  I said, this man is a master at undoing “spiritual knots.”  But first, there is  the struggle to even recognize the spiritual  knots within one’s heart precisely as spiritual knots.  

  1. Some spiritual knots can be engendered or enabled by the classic texts through the peculiar language of the ancient spiritual masters, like the Desert Fathers……

 “A brother came to see Abba Macarius the Egyptian, and said to him, “Abba, give me a word, that I may be saved.” So the old man said, “Go to the cemetery and abuse the dead.” The brother went there, abused them and threw stones at them; then he returned and told the old man about it. The latter said to him, “Didn’t they say anything to you?” He replied, “No.” The old man said, “Go back tomorrow and praise them.” So the brother went away and praised them, calling them, “Apostles, saints and righteous men.” He returned to the old man and said to him, “I have complimented them.” And the old man said to him, “Did they not answer you?” The brother said no. The old man said to him, “You know how you insulted them and they did not reply, and how you praised them and they did not speak; so you too if you wish to be saved must do the same and become a dead man.”

 A brother questioned Abba Moses saying, ‘I see something in front of me and I am not able to grasp it.’ The old man said to him, ‘If you do not become dead like those who are in the tomb, you will not be able to grasp it.’

 Abba Poemen said that a brother asked Abba Moses how someone could consider himself as dead towards his neighbor. The old man said to him, ‘If a man does not think in his heart that he is already three days dead and in the tomb, he cannot attain this saying.’

So….what do we make of this “dead” talk?  Years ago, when I was studying theology at a very progressive place, I met a group of older Catholic religious who were celebrating their sense of liberation through Vatican II.  To them this kind of language seemed psychologically repressive, unhealthy, something to reject in favor of a “more positive” approach that would affirm their humanity.  Then there were the very conservative religious who felt that Vatican II had eviscerated their religious life.  They were  inclined to see this language as a call to “greater effort,” a kind of stifling of negative feelings that, alas, keep recurring no matter how many rosaries you do, no matter how many Masses and novenas, no matter your best  intentions (meaning no matter how much you beat yourself up!)  Both groups suffered from some serious “spiritual knots”; both groups lacked someone who could undo those knots…like Bulleh Shah….or just a more sensitive, comprehensive listening to the Desert Fathers.  Their language can be at times problematic, but if you listen to them carefully you will not only undo these knots but also many others that perhaps never  even seemed as knots.

  1. Same thing holds for modern texts and modern spiritual masters….like Abhishiktananda.  Under the influence of the Upanishads Abhishiktananda tends to frame the whole spiritual journey around certain key terms:  self/Self, awakening, “Aham” or “I am,” “tat tvam asi,” etc.  Now whatever meaning or nuance these terms had in the ancient culture that produced the Upanishads (around 1000 to 600 BCE), this kind of  language in the modern west (or even modern India) can lead to some serious distortions….as Monchanin, his monastic companion for several years, pointed out and as any number of so-called “gurus” or spiritual teachers have well  illustrated.  To avoid this one has to read his teachings with a certain spiritual acumen and common sense……which is not so common after all!!  A careful, sensitive reading of Abhishiktananda in total has the potential of undoing any of these kinds of problems and leads one  into profound depths.

Here is an interesting quote from Abhishiktananda concerning the phenomenon of the sannyasi/monk:

“The monk, or the sannyasi, who still thinks, ‘I am a sannyasi’, is not a true sannyasi. He may have to say this to suit the point of view of those with whom he is speaking, in order to make them understand that he is no longer one of them and no longer has a share with them in the things of this world. It is the same with his clothing, which is not so much for his own sake as it is for others, to show that he is separate in society, or more accurately, separate from society…. When alone by himself the monk cannot any longer think ‘I am this, I am that, I am a renouncer’….”

Excellent point and fully in spirit with Bulleh Shah.  Whatever nitpicking you might have about this statement, you can see that his language is “on the way” to something even deeper where he joins the profound Sufis.

(Ancient Sufi saying:  “The true Sufi is one who is not.”  Unpack that statement and you are “home”!)

Here’s another quote:

“The Spirit blows where he wills. He calls from within, he calls from without. May his chosen ones never fail to attend to his call! In the desert or the jungle, just as much as in the world, the danger is always to fix one’s attention upon oneself. For the wise man, who has discovered his true Self, there is no longer either forest or town, clothes or nakedness, doing or not-doing. He has the freedom of the Spirit, and through him the Spirit works as he wills in this world, using equally his silence and his speech, his solitude and his presence in society. Having passed beyond his ‘own’ self, his ‘own’ life, his ‘own’ being and doing, he finds bliss and peace in the Self alone, the only real Self, the parama-atman. This is the true ideal of the sannyasi.”

What a marvelous, profound statement….and yet not without its potential misreadings and spiritual knots.  But really I wonder if you can express it any better than this…..

  1. Lets look at how the Sufis do it.  

But first we have to deal with a difficult spiritual conundrum:

Every authentic spiritual tradition has some sort of language, either in the classic texts or the more modern ones, that in effect says what Bulleh Shah said: “get rid of the ‘I’ in the heart.”  It may be disguised in various ways but it’s still there.  Consider the Christian Gospels, consider how all that “language of the cross,” the language of “renouncing oneself,” the language of “losing one’s life in order to gain it,” etc., how that all points to that one dynamic.  But here comes the problem….you cannot “remove,” or “renounce” that “I”…..no more than you can pull yourself up by your bootstraps.  This leads to one of the worst spiritual knots there is….you get all caught up in methods, programs, systems, you redouble your efforts, try to find that magic spiritual master,…you have become Sisyphus rolling that heavy rock up that hill! 

 Look at the structure of this sentence:  “I renounce my ‘I’.”  Who is doing the “renouncing,” the “removing”?  After all this renouncing and giving up and removing, it turns out the “I” is still alive and well and maybe even a bit more robust! Our Sufi friends have a solution, and it’s summed up in one word:  fana, annihilation.  There’s no way to sugarcoat this; but note, this does not entail an erasure of personhood—rather it is a dissolving of that self-centering, that orientation toward self, that dynamic that is taken for our personhood.  

There is an interesting story from early Chan (Chinese Zen) that compliments this:

Hui Neng, one of the great patriarchs of Zen, one day encountered a young monk who was meditating.  He asked him why he was meditating, and the young monk replied that he was seeking enlightenment.  Hui Neng then picked up a tile on the ground and started rubbing it with a rock.  The young monk asked him what he was doing.  The old patriarch said that he was trying to make a mirror.  The young monk said that was not possible with how he was doing it.  Hui Neng smiled at the young monk.  Knot cut.

The Sufis (and Zen) really deconstruct, dismantle, that “I,” that self seeking even spiritual gain.  Islam is adamantly set against all forms of idolatry, and for the Sufis the most critical form of idolatry is this “I” (the nafs) that puts itself at the center.  The Sufis say that when you shatter this idol then there is only God.  And who you are is in this Reality….which is the ONLY reality.  

Reza Arasteh, who was a modern Sufi, Islamic scholar, psychologist, wrote:  “…the Sufi’s task is to break the idol of the phenomenal self, which is the mother idol: having achieved this aim his search ends.  Empty-handed, empty-minded and desire-less, he is and he is not.  He has and he has not the feeling of existence.  He knows nothing, he understands nothing.  He is in love, but with whom he is not aware of.  His heart is at the same time both full and empty of love….”  (Bewilderment and perplexity at a deep level are  important stages on the Sufi path….what John of the Cross called the “dark night of the soul.”)

There is this Sufi account:

In the Koran, Pharoah is reputed to have said, “I am your highest Lord.”

Al-Hallaj (probably the most famous Sufi in history) said, “I am the Absolute Truth.”

There are two different “I”s here.   God clarifies:

“Pharoah saw only himself and lost Me, and al-Hallaj saw only Me and lost himself.”

A Sufi story that attacks the knot directly:  Rabia, a most esteemed holy woman, a profound Sufi, living in what is today Iraq around 900 CE.  She encounters a younger male Sufi who brags to her, “I have not committed a single sin for years.”  Rabia answered him, “Your very existence is a greater sin than all else!”   I can just imagine so many people I have known in the past who would freak out at that language and totally dismiss it.  So what is going on here?  Rabia focuses with laser precision on that  “shingle of identity” that young Sufi is carrying.  And what is striking and so, so common is that this young man sees himself in that cheap identity which he also sees as his living existence before God.  He does not see it as it really is—an obstacle to a true awakening to his identity.  So, like a Zen Master, she doesn’t undo the knot….she cuts the knot!  

Gospel story that compliments this:  The “rich” young man who has “kept” the Law and all its precepts but he cannot accept Jesus’ invitation to “give it all up and follow him”….in other words, find his identity in Jesus.  Quiz:  What constitutes this young man’s riches?

Two pertinent Sufi sayings:

  1. Only God can truly say “I”—your “I” is a mere nothingness.  (That doesn’t mean it is an illusion or doesn’t exist, but its existence is like comparing the light of a small candle to the total light of our galaxy….and even that is giving our existence “too much reality.”)
  1. There is not enough room in this house for two “I”s—the heart.
  1. In conclusion, a schematic of the Sufi path from the Turkish Sufis:

There are three parts:

  1. Sharia (law): exemplified by “yours is yours, and mine is mine.”

b.  Tariqa (truth): “yours is yours, and mine is yours also.”

c.  Marifa (gnosis/knowledge):  “there is neither mine nor thine.”

In Sharia we have a world of  clear boundaries.  This makes social life possible, facilitates it, gives us a context for a reasonable, stable life in which we can develop in several ways.  But this is also the place where spiritual knots flourish.

In Tariqa the boundaries begin to blur.  The Sufi does not leave Sharia, but he can begin to transcend it as it were, moving beyond its requirements.  You can see some Desert Fathers here also!  Spiritual knots are still possible

In Marifa the boundaries vanish.  All is changed.  Your suffering is my suffering, your gain is my gain….whatever….there is ONLY God!!  No knots possible.

A beautiful quote from al-Ghazali, great medieval Sufi, speaking from the land of Marifa:

“Each thing has two faces, a face of its own, and a face of its Lord; in respect of its own face, it is nothingness, and in respect of the Face of God it is Being.  Thus there is nothing in existence save only God and His Face, for everything perishes but His Face, always and forever.”

If you want to know how life looks like under Marifa, read and ponder the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew….maybe only a Sufi can truly understand and live that text!!

Exploring Some Backroads of Spirituality

The other day  I was thinking of Robert Frost’s famous poem, “The Road Not Taken.”  Here is the text:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

A quiet, supremely understated poem.  Not flashy, not teasing you with hidden meanings, no cryptic allusions, no brilliant maneuvers of language….. you could easily breeze by this poem thinking you “got the message,” not realizing the depths it is addressing in your own being.  I am not going to engage in a literary exercise explicating this or that aspect of the poem, but we will use it to explore some “backroads of spirituality.”

Two roads diverge in a wood…..a special moment in one’s life…a critical decision…..this yes, all of that, but these “two roads” are also present in every moment, in every thought, in every emotion.  And note:  the poem is remembering such a moment or a series of moments, a  kind of retrospective, because often it is only in looking back that we can properly discern such a moment or such a time. And it’s not the case of one road looking “bad” and the other one “good.” That would make it easy in a sense.  But both are attractive, and both are equally opaque about what the journey will be like.  But one road seems well-traveled and the other “less traveled,” implying more uncertainty taking that path, more questioning perhaps.  It’s obvious that Frost is first of all talking about his own vocation as a poet.  And choosing that road “has made all the difference.” This has to do not with anything external to him, not with any kind of rewards/successes/gains, etc.,  but with his very personhood.  In traditional religious language one might say “he is doing God’s work,” or “God made him to be a poet,” or something like that.  The trouble with that language is that the “road” then seems so external to one when in fact it is your very personhood, your real vocation so to say, who you really are.  The reason it is “less traveled” is that ONLY you can be on that road that IS you!  And the road that shows signs of much travel is the realm of roles.  Instead of being who we are meant to be we can try on all kinds of roles….like various fashions of clothes.  Instead of participating in the Divine Creativity that unfolds as  our life with all its mysterious twists and turns, all its mistakes and pain and celebrations, all its messy joys and sadness, instead of entering into the Divine Vision of it all….”and God saw that it was good,”…rather we are seduced into a chimera of various roles and looking into a mirror to see how we look…..  And the sad thing is that religion is as equally prone to this distortion as secular culture.  Religiosity is too often a role that someone takes on, one fits in a nice niche,  one is socially approved….etc.  And the ultimate problem, then, is that one never knows who  one is in a profound way; one only knows the role one has taken on and which is what others see and approve in one way or another.

Now we turn to another artist, and a very different milieu:  Billie Eilish.  You might wonder what a pop star has to contribute to a reflection on spirituality, but I am on one of those “backroads” here.  Billie is one mixed up young lady, but I like her very much.  Her songs mainly appeal to young people, especially young women; but at times she hits some striking universal notes (no pun intended!). 

 Recently she won a Grammy and an Oscar for a song which she co-wrote with her brother for the movie Barbie:  “What was I made for?” The producers of the movie came to Eilish and asked her to write what they called the “heart song” for Barbie.  This very popular movie, a kind of fantasy that has all the character of an allegory/parable pertaining to our basic humanity, but especially so for young women.  Barbie is of course the pop classic doll which millions of young girls grew up with.  She of course is made as a doll to sell and make money for her maker.  The movie has her coming to life, becoming human; and on one level it deals with the social and psychological problems young women encounter in our society, the kind of roles they are expected to play, etc.,(Barbie the doll seemed to be a kind of indoctrination of young girls into “girl roles”),  but on quite another level, almost unwittingly, it questions us all about our lives, what we see as the point of it all, the “why” of it all, asking us to shed the roles that we have taken on as a pseudo answer to that question, and to enter that road less traveled, our own humanity….  Here is a link to Billie’s performance of the song on TV on Saturday Night Live:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zvnKOf3gf4

A more lovely rendition was given by her at the Oscar awards, but the lyrics got truncated for time purposes I suppose:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1rL1EHELPAk

The title of the song made me think of my old Baltimore Catechism, the pre-Vatican II tool of religious instruction.  The whole thing flowed in question and answer format.  I still remember in 6th grade, in 1956, Sister Evangelista assigning questions and answers to be memorized.  Questions like: what is faith? what is hope?  And of course one of the early questions was something very much like “what am I made for?” though I forget (sorry, Sister) the exact words.  Now there is nothing wrong with this format as such or with the answers, but the problem is that both question and answer become merely a formula of words.  You don’t really grasp the meaning of this kind of question until that question “grasps” you, becomes your “heart song,”  and you kind of wrestle with it, and it is only then that you discover the “two roads” before you, and your answer will no longer be simply a formula of words…..and it will make all the difference.  The beauty and magic of Billie’s song is that practically inadvertently she picks up that question for Barbie and pushes it to a level where one senses the  question’s unfolding urgency and anguish when one is no  longer satisfied with just a “role” in life,  a set of clothes so to speak.  But the “road less traveled” takes one from the psychological games of identity and plunges one  into the mystery of one’s own being….which is pure gift.

In a completely different mode, coming from a totally different angle, there is then,  this interesting example:  just the other day Scottie Scheffler won the most prestigious golf tournament in the world, the Masters.  Scheffler is a devout evangelical Christian, and you might quite reasonably think the two facts are totally unconnected and really have nothing to do with our reflections above.  But look at this write-up  of Scheffler’s victory on CBS Sports:

“It struck me Sunday as the second nine unfurled and patrons hustled toward Amen Corner that Scheffler is different than his peers. He was walking upstream toward the 11th tee as the crowd rushed like water toward the green to see what he would do….  This is emblematic of how he lives. Scheffler, unlike most other golfers, is Very Not Online…..  Scheffler is guided by his Christian faith, about which he has become increasingly vocal…… About how he is not defined by his golf score or his success but rather his faith.

“While Scheffler is not devoted to his faith for the purpose of winning golf tournaments — quite the opposite, in fact — in listening to him speak about it, one would find it difficult for a golfer to have a better mindspace. He holds the line between ‘cares a lot’ and ‘identity not tethered to outcome’ perfectly.

This is not a state of mind he works hard on adopting like other golfers; it’s simply his belief system. It’s who he is.

“’I was sitting around with my buddies this morning, I was a bit overwhelmed,’ Scheffler said Sunday evening. ‘I told them, ‘I wish I didn’t want to win as badly  as I do.’ I think it would make the mornings easier.’

“’I love winning. I hate losing. I really do. And when you’re here in the biggest moments, when I’m sitting there with the lead on Sunday, I really, really want to win badly.  And my buddies told me this morning my victory was secure on the cross. And that’s a pretty special feeling to know that I’m secure for forever and it doesn’t matter if I win this tournament or lose this tournament. My identity is secure for forever.’

“The freedom Scheffler’s faith provides — allowing him to be secure in himself knowing all that’s required is doing the best he can any given week — is a trait professional golfers strive to achieve through myriad psychological tricks, coaches and techniques

“’I wish I could soak this in a little bit more. Maybe I will tonight when I get home. But at the end of the day, I think that’s what the human heart does. You always want more, and I think you have to fight those things and focus on what’s good.  Because, like I said, winning this golf tournament does not change my identity. My identity is secure, and I cannot emphasize that enough.’”

Now there’s a lot here.  Scheffler speaks of his “identity,” who he really is, what his life is about….  In good Evangelical fashion he sees it in connection with the reality of Christ, more specifically the Cross.  This can be taken superficially…just more words….just another costume one puts on…..or maybe a kind of emotional vitamin that props one up with energy for a while.  But here I  get the feeling that Scheffler is more than scratching the surface of this reality, though one should also acknowledge that there is a lot more depth here than what he experiences. 

 Scheffler’s expressed sentiments do have a kind of “Pauline flavor”!  St. Paul, in his Letters, so often tackles the problem of identity or on what basis does one actually live his life….and in a very personal way using himself as an example.  Being a Jew and a zealot, he has a breakthrough into an identity that transcends all such boundaries.  So he teaches and preaches that being Jewish or being Gentile is no longer “who you are.”  Nor does what you do ground your identity….this is one of the meanings of his polemic against “salvation through works.” That does not mean a denial of his historical situation; he readily admits his Jewish lineage; he does not deny his Roman citizenship; he does not ignore his leadership position within the communities; but what is most truly important for him is his new-found  identity “in Christ.”  And this is not something that anyone or anything can take away/change/destroy.  So, returning to Scheffler, you can see how those who, unlike Scheffler, build their identity in winning/achieving/accomplishing, in what they do, in “works,” well, that is a “house built on sand,” and so the anxiety, fear, insecurity, and all the psychological games they undertake to deal with this.  And if you think this is found only in secular life and not monastic life, for example, well, you would be mistaken.  A monk can mouth all the right words and sincerely believe in his own monastic identity, but it just might be another costume, albeit a  more “acceptable” one.  But something can come along and completely knock the stuffings out of that monastic identity….or at the very least seem like a real threat to what once appeared so “solid.” The nature of what one is about is then no longer “out there” as a “sure thing.” Maybe the monk arrives where the two roads diverge, or maybe even the monk might sing, “What am I made for?”  And the institutional setting is not always conducive to supporting such a moment or such a period  in one’s life.

One last thought:  There is an interesting parallel to Scheffler’s stuff in Zen, especially Japanese Zen.  The Zen archer  hits the bullseye, and the Zen craftsman creates a beautiful result in his work…..not because they “tried” very diligently, not because they “wanted it” more, but precisely   because there was no more “I” achieving something in order to validate itself.  There is no anxiety or expectation that what they do grounds their “I”.

But really the people who have gone the deepest in this kind of dynamic and who seem to understand it best are our friends, the Sufis.  More about this another time.

 

Just Another Poor Translation

We are getting close to Ash Wednesday, one of my most favorite days….and then there’s Lent!  Who could ask for more?  And this year Ash Wednesday falls on Feb. 14….coinciding with Valentine’s Day.  Kind of a jarring combo there, but I’m sure there will be some who will manage to pull off a double celebration.  I won’t be doing that here.

Ash Wednesday has several layers of meaning, and even as a youngster I was intrigued by the significance of this feast.  Even then I surmised that “giving up” something “for Lent” was at best a symbolic gesture.  But when the priest called me “dust” as he put ashes on  my childhood forehead, this sent a chill down my spine…not of fear or dread or anything like that, rather a sense of something very deep yet very personal being said to me.  Since I have been writing these reflections I have on several occasions pondered the challenging mystery of Ash Wednesday.  So I will once more throw out some thoughts, some old, some new, as this feast and this season never ceases to intrigue  and amaze me.

  1. “Folly Chasing Death around the Broken Pillar of Life”  I wrote about this a while back…it is the theme of a float that appears in the great Mardi Gras parade in New Orleans just before Ash Wednesday.  The history of this float goes way back to the 19th century.  It’s a fascinating symbolic portrayal of what Ash Wednesday and Lent are suppose to cure (though it’s not always seen that way).  It is a depiction of what my ancient Chinese  friends called “boiling red dust.”  It is that constant activity, whether internal or external, to fortify and enhance the ego self, the built- in futility and delusion of all activity that is centered on self. self-interest, self affirmation.  It is also what our Buddhist friends diagnose as “suffering”(and we could learn a lot from them about all this), pushing that “rock” up that hill of life.  So, so much of social activity (even “religious”)  seems to be just that.  In this we encounter  the core delusion of existence.  So…Ash Wednesday/Lent is suppose to bring us face to face with this core delusion of our existence.
  1. Traditional Biblical religion was aware of this problem, and we see it portrayed in the Bible in various allegorical and symbolic ways….like the “Tower of Babel” story for example.  The Bible also proposes a “cure” and calls for a “change” in perspective which it names “repentance” and “conversion,” and this has certain symbolic gestures.  In Job 42:6, at the end of his confession, Job repents in sackcloth and ashes. And in the city of Nineveh, after Jonah preaches conversion and repentance, all the people proclaim a fast and put on sackcloth, and even the king covers himself with sackcloth and sits in ashes, as told in Jonah 3:5–6.  These kinds of things are all over the Bible.   The gestures seem odd at first; they seem depressing to some people, just a lot of negativity.  Certainly serious, perhaps somber, and sometimes even morose….our modern culture is not at home with this language of conversion and repentance…too filled with negativity.  A certain kind of negation is definitely an important part of Lent, but it must symbolically address the core problem:  what self centeredness and self-interest are really all about; and, more critically, point to a new awareness from which new actions, new life, a new sense of self will flow.  An illuminating comparison can be made with the Buddhist notion of “Right View,” the first on the “Noble Eightfold Path.”  On Ash Wednesday and Lent we are really invited to fundamentally change our understanding of what  is Real and what is unreal!
  1. Abhishiktananda summarized the essence of the spiritual life in this manner:  

“The essential task is the surrender of the peripheral ego to the interior mystery.”

Now it may not look like it, but Ash Wednesday and this incredible statement are both pointing to the same thing.  The “peripheral ego” is as insubstantial as dust, but it claims everything we do, everything we perceive, everything we think …so all becomes a kind of “folly”….recall the  opening lines of the book of Ecclesiastes.   To “de-center” from this psychological mirage is at the heart of what we call “conversion.”  And the call to “repentance” is an opening and an invitation to a much deeper and very different sense of self…sometimes called “no-self.”  There is no other liberation from this “folly” which ultimately ends in futility, despair, death.  To help us understand this we can do no better than call on our Sufi friends, who have a profound and amazing grasp of the issue.

  1. From Rumi:

“Knock, And He’ll open the door
Vanish, And He’ll make you shine like the sun
Fall, And He’ll raise you to the heavens
Become nothing, And He’ll turn you into everything.”

The whole Sufi program in a nutshell! 

For the Sufis, Abhishiktananda’s  “peripheral ego” is called the “nafs, and“surrender” is called “fana,” which translates best as “extinction” or “annihilation”…ouch!….sure sounds like a term that can scare someone!   But it’s not like one comes down with a sledge hammer on  one’s psychological “I,” a kind of suppression  No, nothing like that at all….rather more like realizing the “right view” of this “I.”  It is a deep existential realization that this “I” that claims center stage is as insubstantial as dust, a real nothingness as it were.  But from the Sufi standpoint the main problem with this “I,” the nafs, is that it stands in opposition to God.  Here “I” am; there is God….it makes an “otherness” of God that is never really bridgeable.  

Only the word “I” divides me from God.
Yunus Emre

But the Sufis know that this “separation” is a kind of mirage; there is a much deeper sense of “I” which is both you and not-you at the same time; it is the mystery of mysteries, the inner sanctum of what is most real, the place where God’s “I” and your “I” are one….the most incomprehensible and inexpressible reality.  Someone like Meister Eckhart pointed to this mystery in his own way:  “The eye with which I see God is the same eye with which God sees me.”  And recall some Pauline statements (which sometimes become religious platitudes) like:  There is NOTHING that can come between you and the love of God for you in Christ.

And I cherish this from al-Hallaj:

“I saw my Lord with the eye of the heart
I asked, ‘Who are You?’
He replied, ‘You’”

There is also the Islamic notion of the “faqir,” sometimes written in English as “fakir,” and usually translated as “the poor one.”  Among the Sufis this was a very important reality, and it had much more to do with interior poverty than with material things…but those also.  You might say that the poverty of the faqir is a poverty of “I-ness.”  If this is not at the heart of all Lenten “giving up” of this or that, then that gesture becomes a religious façade and even worse, an enhancement of that peripheral ego.  In any case, we do have an example of an “ultimate faqir”:  al-Hallaj.

  1. Mansur Al-Hallaj.  The most remarkable Sufi in all of history, and the one who leaves you in absolute silence when you meet him.  For a good part of his life he lived in Baghdad in the 9th century.  And what was peculiar for him he preached openly and in the streets and markets of Baghdad his mystical spirituality of oneness with God….stuff that was suppose to be discreetly talked about in small, almost secret groups.  Also, he had a deep regard for Jesus (true for Islam as a whole) and a most intense longing to be like him even to the point of being crucified.  Well, as they say, be careful  what you wish for….this is exactly what happened to him.  The authorities in Baghdad arrested him for preaching heresy openly to the public…as in the quote above.  (Eerie the similarity with Jesus!)  He was jailed for a long time, would not recant, and finally they crucified him(the details of all this are not clear but the top scholar on his life puts it like this).  On the cross he proclaimed, “Anā al-ḥaqq,” “I am the Truth,” meaning “I am God,”(al-Haqq can be translated either as “Truth,” or as “Reality”…. as al-Haqq was/is one of the most sacred names for God in the fascinating Islamic theology of God’s Names. )  And you can see the implications of this word in all its translations.  This so outraged the authorities that they dismembered him, burnt the remains, and scattered his ashes in the Tigris River.

Mansur Al-Hallaj was not a raving madman.  In his ecstatic proclamation he was bearing witness to the “annihilation” of that superficial “I,” becoming the ultimate faqir….all that was left of him was the Divine Reality in al-Hallaj….”God’s I” manifest as his “I”.  This is at the heart of all Sufi teaching.  A Sufi saying:  You are not you when you are you but (you are you) when God is you!  

A Christian example of a true faqir:  St. Francis of Assisi.  Think of his stigmata.  Whether legendry or historical, the story of the stigmata is not some religious sideshow or spurious validation of his life(as presented in some other cases).  Rather think of this story in the light of al-Hallaj.  Also, there is that remarkable parable Francis tells his disciple:  “What is Perfect Joy?”  You can only misunderstand this parable as a call to a masochistic life if you don’t see it as a witness to the total faqir ideal of the Sufis.

  1. In the spirit of Mansur al-Hallaj recall St. Paul’s radical statement:  “I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me.”  That “not I” is what Lent is all about.  That “not I” is a negation, yes, but what it negates is as insubstantial as dust yet it seems like your very being.  That “not I” opens you to your liberation from the shackles and limitations of your ego identity.  
  1. If you’re wondering about the title of this reflection, maybe this Sufi saying will help:

“God’s language is silence; all else is a poor translation.”

Happy Lent!

Han Shan, Poet, Buddhist Fool, Hermit, Spiritual Guide, Good Friend

Han Shan, otherwise in translation known as Cold Mountain, lived around 700/800 CE in the late Tang Period, China’s real “Golden Age.”  I feel very close to this person; he has been a kind of spiritual guide for me for many years.  Granted this might seem strange…after all he is so far away in time and space!  And you couldn’t have a greater difference than the one between our cultural setting and his.  But I am reminded of what T. S. Eliot once said when he was criticized for seemingly ignoring his contemporaries in his poetic work.  He asked:  “Who are my contemporaries?  My contemporaries are the people who have the same questions I have!” You kind of get the idea!  In any case, let me go into this a bit more.

By the way, there is a decent write-up of Han Shan in an online encyclopedia at this link with some translations by Burton Watson:

https://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Hanshan

Han Shan, the poet.  Best place to start because frankly it is the only place you can meet him:  his poetry.  He has written no books, no treatises, no essays; he has no “teaching,” he pushes no doctrine; he has no “spiritual methods” to pass on.  Right away I like the guy!  But if you think this makes him a vacuous purveyor of spiritual fluff, you would be very wrong.  For several decades that he lived as a vagabond hermit he wrote scattered poems; it was other folk who collected them up in time and published them.  Even today he is an  iconic figure in Chinese lore.  And this brings us to a key problem for us:  he wrote of course in Chinese!  If his writing were expository of some kind, a reasonable translation would capture most of the meaning.  But we are talking about  poetry, ancient Chinese poetry, one of the most subtle art of all arts.  Han Shan is difficult even for modern Chinese!  The subtle allusions, the double and triple meanings of a word, the quiet symbolism that can slip right by you, all this and more prove to be quite a challenge to the modern Chinese speaker whose language now is a flattened  out modern conveyer of information….like all the other modern languages.  So you can imagine what a translation does to Han Shan!  You’re probably getting about 40 to 50 percent of what is in the poem at best, but for some of us even that little is enough to enchant us.  I readily admit, though, that Han Shan is not everybody’s cup of tea.  And in translation he can seem at times very bland and pedestrian….but like in the case of the proverbial iceberg you are then seeing only the “tip.”  Fortunately for those of us whose only access to Han Shan is in translation, we  have quite a few good ones to help us.  

Back in mid-century there was Arthus Waley, then Burton Watson, Gary Snyder, Red Pine, and most recently the team of Peter Levitt and Kazuaki Tanahashi, and then a number of others.  This team and Red Pine translated the whole Han Shan canon; the others only a small portion of the poems. 

 I first met Han Shan through the poetry of Gary Snyder.  I was interested in the literature of the Beat Movement of the mid ‘50s, and I picked up an anthology of Beat writings when I was a freshman in college.  Gary Snyder, who did not strictly belong to this movement, was included in the anthology.  He was a poet, and at times hung out with Allen Ginsburg and Kerouac, so he was in!   More importantly, Snyder was a serious student of Chinese at  UC Berkeley and for a seminar project he translated about 20 of Han Shan’s poems, and the anthology picked up some of these translations.  To these folks Han Shan seemed like a Beat figure of the late Tang!  In any case I was immediately taken by the poetry of Han Shan.  Having read a lot of poetry,  even at that age I recognized that this was a beautiful work of translation (and I still regard his translations as the best…too bad there’s so few of them), and my own spiritual quest was deeply attracted to this ancient figure. 

There is very little we know for sure about the historical life of Han Shan.  Needless to say the scholars are all over the place trying to determine “facts” about his life and “facts” about his poetry.   We won’t go into all that.  To be sure we can glean a little bit about him from his own poetry.   He seems to have been born into a well-to-do ambience; then well educated and earning some kind of position in the current ruling government.  Also he got married.  However, in the tensions and the turmoil and strife of the late Tang, at a certain point he had to run for his life (Red Pine surmises).  His wife seems to have died, and around the age of 30 he becomes a vagabond hermit.  A small chunk of his poems are about his life in society, but even there you can see the orientation to a spiritual quest.  The majority of his poems, however, were written in Tientai, the mountain range where the mountain called “Cold Mountain” was located.

Here is Han Shan in his own words, summarizing his life’s journey:

In my first thirty years of life

I roamed hundreds and thousands of miles.

Walked by rivers through deep green grass,

Entered cities of boiling red dust.

Tried drugs, but couldn’t make Immortal;

Read books and wrote poems on history.

Today I am back at Cold Mountain:

I’ll sleep by the creek and purify my ears.

(trans. By Gary Snyder)

Some notes:

  1. Note the implied restlessness of his young life, constantly looking for something,  both inner and outer, neither civilization nor the natural world bring him peace.

 

  1. “drugs”….an allusion to the pop religion of his time,  pop Taoism which was already prevalent….the profound mysticism of Lao Tzu and Zhuangzi transformed into a magical search for elixirs of immortality.  Then, an allusion to the Confucian training that he got in becoming an official of the government.
  1. “Cold Mountain”……MOST IMPORTANT….”Han Shan” translated into English is “Cold Mountain”…..so the line can read:  “Today I’ve come home to Han Shan.”  There is layer upon layer of meaning here.  In ALL his poems, the words “Cold Mountain” always have at least three meanings: 1. The person of Han Shan; it was not his original name, but it’s the name he took upon himself when he became a hermit; 2. The geographical location, this mountain where he lived as a hermit; 3. And his state of heart, his mind, his level of awareness….and this of course is the key.  It reminds one of that notion in Cistercian spirituality, one begins one’s journey in the land of “unlikeness,” alienated from one’s true self, and one journeys to the land of “likeness,” where one is “in the image of God.”  In other words, a profound return to who you really are.  Similar dynamic in Buddhism….always really a kind of “return.”  
  1. Note now a different relationship to nature.

Now look at this poem (also trans. By Snyder):

Men ask the way to Cold Mountain
Cold Mountain: there’s no through trail.
In summer, ice doesn’t melt
The rising sun blurs in swirling fog.
How did I make it?
My heart’s not the same as yours.
If your heart was like mine
You’d get it and be right here.

Such beautiful economy of expression….physical geography and “spiritual geography” blending into one.

Han Shan, the Buddhist fool.  Several things to say here.  This is one of the most remarkable aspects of Han Shan’s life:  his total severance from any institutional ties.  He is not a “monk” belonging to a monastery.  He could have easily joined a  monastery (either Buddhist or Taoist), which then as now would have been the usual thing to do.  In fact, there was then (and still there today) a monastery a few miles from his mountain.  Sometimes he would go there begging for food, and he befriended a ragged worker in the kitchen (Shi te or Shide) who would help him out.  So, like the Christian Desert Fathers, when he “left the world” he set out on his own, no map….really not even a religious one.  Many regard him as Buddhist, and he shows signs that he was well-versed in Buddhist thought; but he also blends in a lot of the Taoism of Lao Tzu and Zhuangzi.  The fact is that “officially” he is not anything!  And at times he seems to enjoy poking fun at the official members of both religions.  You really can’t nail him down to some category of belonging.

And then there is his physical appearance!  There also he meets all criteria for a “fool”!   Han Shan in his own words!

People hereabouts call me
“The crazy hermit of Cold Mountain.”
They say: “His face is butt-ugly,”
“His rags smell of mange,”
“Everything he utters is jabberwocky,”
“Anything we say dumbs his ears!”
What do I reply?
“Climb Cold Mountain and sit with me awhile

(trans. by Stanton Hager)

And this poem:

Men who see the Master

Of Cold Mountain, say he’s mad.

A nothing face,

Body clothed in rags.

Who dare say what he says?

When he speaks we can’t understand.

Just one word to you who pass –

Take the trail to Cold Mountain!

(trans. by A. S. Kline)

Han Shan, the hermit.  What can you say?  The hermit life, in whatever tradition and in whatever era, basically defies articulation.  The less words, the better.  The hermit’s natural home is a deep silence and an unspeakable simplicity.  Or as Merton once put it in the Japanese edition of Thoughts in Solitude:

“This book says nothing that has not already been said better by the wind in the pine trees.  Its pages seek nothing more than to echo the silence and the peace that is ‘heard’ when the rain wanders freely among the hills and the forests.  But what can the wind say when there is no hearer?  There is then a deeper silence: the silence in which the Hearer is No-Hearer.”

To begin to understand Han Shan you have to approach him in that mindset.  If your notion of the hermit life is filled with a lot of formalities, a lot of “religious” sentiments, a lot of “specialness,”  then you will miss Han Shan by the width of the universe!

And here he is once more in his own words telling you about his hermit life:

I divined and chose a distant place to dwell-
T’ien-t’ai: what more is there to say?
Monkeys cry where valley mists are cold;
My grass gate blends with the color of the crags.
I pick leaves to thatch a hut among the pines,
Scoop out a pond and lead a runnel from the spring.
By now I am used to doing without the world.
Picking ferns, I pass the years that are left.

(trans.by Burton Watson)

 Han Shan does not romanticize the hermit life, nor does he minimize its hardness:

The trail to Cold Mountain is faint
the banks of Cold Stream are a jungle
birds constantly chatter away
I hear no sound of people
gusts of wind lash my face
flurries of snow bury my body
day after day no sun
year after year no spring

(trans. by Burton Watson)

Han Shan, the spiritual guide.  This is most interesting and probably not many would agree with this title for him.  He seems to be lacking  in all the credentials you need for this position! I mean he is not like Milarepa, an awesome figure of amazing powers; he is not like one of the Desert Fathers who practiced great austerity.  He has no “program” for “spiritual realization”; he is not a proponent of any teaching.  And certainly he is not like a modern spiritual director who makes a living teaching spirituality.  So, it seems like there’s nothing there!

And unlike spiritual teachers of legend, Han Shan admits to feelings of sadness and loss (not unlike Jesus!)….he comes across as a fragile, vulnerable human being, who has journeyed through his own tangled humanity into the depths of his own heart and mind.  What he finds there is only hinted at; what is beyond words is also beyond poetry!

But frankly I think this whole thing about spiritual guides is overblown and over rated.  Some people are always looking for that “special” person, and God knows what that “specialness” is all about!  But in any given situation your true spiritual guide may be your neighbor, your spouse, your teacher, your co-worker, etc.  All you need is “attention.”  Simone Weil made attention the key to the whole spiritual life.  From a Christian perspective, God always provides the “spiritual guide” that we need in all circumstances.  We can begin the real journey by paying attention in that deepest sense.  And really it is to this that Han Shan invites us in all his poetry.  There is a “path” that Han Shan has taken, certainly not an easy, magical, powerful way; there is no program, no formula for this path.  And like a good, humble spiritual guide Han Shan is inviting you in so many ways to your own path that passes right through your own personhood, into the depths of your mind and heart.  At a certain point the Path and the person become one.

Clambering up the Cold Mountain path,
The Cold Mountain trail goes on and on:
The long gorge choked with scree and boulders,
The wide creek, the mist-blurred grass.
The moss is slippery, though there’s been no rain
The pine sings, but there’s no wind.
Who can leap the world’s ties
And sit with me among the white clouds?

(trans. by Snyder)

Han Shan, good friend.

Question:  Why do you consider Han Shan a good friend?

Answer:  See all of the above!

Christmas Without the Eggnog

A little Christmas reflection here.  Lots of good ones out there; one of my favorites from long ago was Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.  It is not the sentimental story that many  have made it out to be.  But my all time favorite and, in my opinion, the best Christmas reflection of all time is Merton’s essay in a little known book, Raids on the Unspeakable:  “The Time of the End is the Time of No Room.” Merton lifts the meaning of Christmas  from a kind of mushy “never, neverland” setting where people decorate trees, drink eggnog and buy gifts, etc.  Lots of temporary good feeling with a slight reference to some vague religious sentiments.  But Merton also lifts the meaning of Christmas from theological objectification where Christmas is an event “out there” long time ago, and then you try to draw various meanings from it.  Meister  Eckhart in the 14th Century already said that it matters little to worship Christ being born in Bethlehem if Christ is not born in your heart.

Merton’s reflection turns on one phrase in the Nativity narrative:  “There was no room for them in the inn.”  And In a stroke of genius he melds the Advent theme with the Nativity narrative.  

Here is a beginning excerpt  from that essay:

“We live in the time of no room, which is the time of the end.  The time when everyone is obsessed with lack of time, lack of space, with saving time, conquering space, projecting into time and space the anguish produced within them by the technological furies of size, volume, quality, speed, number, price, power, and acceleration.

The primordial blessing, “increase and multiply,” has suddenly become a hemorrhage of terror.  We are numbered in billions, and massed together, marshaled, numbered, marched here and there, taxed, drilled, armed, worked to the point of insensibility, dazed by information, drugged by entertainment, surfeited with everything, nauseated with the human race and with ourselves, nauseated with life.

As the end approaches, there is no room for nature.  The cities crowd it off the face of the Earth.  As the end approaches, there is no room for quiet.  There is no room for solitude.  There is no room for thought.  There is no room for attention, for the awareness of our state.

In the time of the ultimate end, there is no room for man.”

And then Merton turns sharply and more explicitly to the Nativity narrative itself:

“Is this pessimism?  Is this the unforgivable sin of admitting what everybody really feels?  Is it pessimism to diagnose cancer as cancer?  Or should one simply go on pretending that everything is getting better every day, because the time of the end is also – for some at any rate – the time of great prosperity?  

Into this world, this demented inn, in which there is absolutely no room for him at all, Christ has come uninvited. But because he cannot be at home in it – because he is out of place in it, and yet must be in it – his place is with those others who do not belong, who are rejected because they are regarded as weak; and with those who are discredited, who are denied the status of persons, and are tortured, exterminated. With those for whom there is no room, Christ is present in this world. He is mysteriously present in those for whom there seems to be nothing but the world at its worst. For them, there is no escape even in imagination.  They cannot identify with the power structure of a crowded humanity which seeks to project itself outward, anywhere, in a centrifugal flight into the voice to get out there where there is no God, no man, no name, no identity, no weight, no self, nothing but the bright, self-directed, perfectly obedient and infinitely expensive machine.

For those who are stubborn enough, devoted enough to power, there remains this last apocalyptic myth of machinery propagating its own kind in the eschatological wilderness of space – while on Earth, the bombs make room!

But the others: they remain imprisoned in other hopes, and in more pedestrian despairs, despairs and hopes which are held down to Earth, down to street level, and to the pavement only: desire to be at least half-human, to taste a little human joy, to do a fairly decent job of productive work, to come home to the family…desires for which there is no room.  It is in these that he hides himself, for whom there is no room.”

At the end of the essay Merton recalls us to the Joy of Christmas, the Joy which we sing of (“Joy to the world”),  which joy is not that as the world gives; the Great Joy which suffuses the Nativity scene is not the vacuous ephemeral joy proposed by the world, which in fact does not take away our pervasive anxiety, our frantic loneliness, our buried despair.    Rather, the Great Joy is the first taste of that unspeakable actuality which is beyond all our conceptions.  It will truly seem foolish to so many of us!

Merton wrote this reflection in 1966, at the height of the Vietnam nightmare and in the midst of the tensions and strife of the Civil Rights struggle.  A lot has changed since then, and yet spiritually speaking it is more pertinent than ever.  To borrow from Thoreau:  “Most men lead lives of quiet despair.”  Well, today it is anything but quiet!  And those of our contemporaries who wallow in excess make Merton’s remarks look very current.  Recently I saw these two news stories….at first I thought this must be Onion material, but no it is real!  The first one is about Sam Altman, one of the big names in AI. He has amassed about 100 million dollars worth of properties in Hawaii, Napa, San Francisco, and Big Sur, and here he is in his own words:

“Altman told the founders of the startup Shypmate that, ‘I prep for survival,’ and warned of either a ‘lethal synthetic virus,’ AI attacking humans, or nuclear war.

‘I try not to think about it too much,’ Altman told the founders in 2016. ‘But I have guns, gold, potassium iodide, antibiotics, batteries, water, gas masks from the Israeli Defense Force, and a big patch of land in Big Sur I can fly to.’”

Source: The New Yorker via Business Insider 

And then there is the well-known Mark Zuckerberg and you can read about his project in Hawaii with its enormous self-sufficient underground bunker and with multi mansions costing more than any other private dwelling ever:

https://nymag.com/intelligencer/article/zuckerberg-hawaii-compound.html

And then there is this quote from Business Insider:

“LinkedIn cofounder Reid Hoffman once told the New Yorker he estimates more than half of Silicon Valley billionaires have invested in some type of ‘apocalypse insurance,’ like an underground bunker.”

Now I am not going to dwell on these examples; they are just extreme symptoms of a whole culture poisoned by greed, paranoia, power, lust, etc.  It’s as bad as ancient Rome, just more high tech!  Interesting and paradoxical that the accumulation of great wealth leads to great fear and great insecurity….the opposite of what your average poor person thinks….!

In any case, what I really want to get to with these examples is to highlight an incredible contrast with the Nativity scene.  The vulnerability of the Holy Family in contrast to the “walls” and security these people need.  We will discover the Divine Presence only in our own   vulnerability, our own personal poverty, our own namelessness.  The Angel came THAT night not to the mansions and fortresses of that society, but to “outsiders,” the shepherds tending their flocks.  The Great Joy was announced not to the “makers & shakers” of society but to those who symbolically represent all whose only resource is the Divine Presence.

Some Notes

  1.   There is this story about the great master of Rinzai Zen, Hakuin, 17th century: 

A samurai came to Hakuin and said:

“I want to know about heaven and hell.  Do they really exist?” he asked.

Hakuin looked at the soldier and asked him, “Who are you?”

“I am a samurai,” announced the proud warrior.

“Ha!” exclaimed Hakuin. “What makes you think you can understand such insightful things? You are merely a callous, brutish soldier! Go away and do not waste my time with your foolish questions,” Hakuin said, waving his hand to drive away the samurai.

The enraged samurai couldn’t take Hakuin’s insults. He drew his sword, readied for the kill, when Hakuin calmly retorted, “This is hell.”

The soldier was taken aback. His face softened. Humbled by the wisdom of Hakuin, he put away his sword and bowed before the Zen Master.

“And this is heaven,” Hakuin stated, just as calmly.”

Indeed.  Amazing how in all the great spiritual traditions there is some variant of this:  the “Two Paths,”  “the Choice.”  In the Hebrew Bible, Yahweh tells the People of Israel:  “I put before you Life and Death.  Choose.”  In the Didache, one of the earliest Christian writings after the Gospels, it says:  There is a way that leads to Life, and a way that leads to death.  In the Upanishads we read of the call to move from the mode of unreality to Reality, from darkness to Light.   And so on.  Needless to say we are not talking about physical life or death but rather two radically different ways of being in the world, in history.  In a sense our very being is this crossroads where these two paths present themselves for our choice always and everywhere.

I write all this with the echoes of war and slaughter in the background.  In history it seems never to change.  One reason for that is that the “way of death,” “hell,” never appears to us for what it really is….   It comes to us as an apparent “good” or at least a “necessity.”  A way to stop the “bad”; a means to solve the “problem” facing us; something that will help us overcome what we fear, etc., etc.  

I am not talking just about our current situation.  In all places and all times we find our fellow human beings facing the same choice.,…and more often than not choosing “death.”   Consider what happened when a rouge group of radical fundamentalist  Islamic fanatics attacked the U.S. on 09/11.  Our reaction led to two major wars in which hundreds of thousands of people were killed.  It looked more like a bloodlust for revenge rather than a seeking of justice.  Needless to say it did not solve any “problem.”  Amazing how this occurs continually throughout history.  I think of early colonial America, New England, 17th century, when the first British colonists were pushing onto  certain land where some Native Americans from a small tribe felt that was a serious act of trespass and a threat to them.  Several colonists were killed.  All the colonists banded together and massacred this tribe…no one was left.  I also think of early medieval France, where the Albigensians seemed like a threat to the Church.  The pope called upon some nobles to “solve the problem.”  The Albigensians got slaughtered, thousands of them.  Also, shortly later, St. Bernard, yes SAINT Bernard, called for the killing of the Islamic inhabitants of the Holy Land….to most of Europe they seemed like a real threat to Christianity….except to Francis of Assisi.   And lest anyone think that somehow primitive, indigenous people were less prone to such choosing, history would prove them wrong.  An example:  the Hopi tribe around 1700.  The Hopi have had a reputation as a “peaceful” group of people, and mostly that has been the case.  However, there are a few very dark moments.  Around 1700 the Hopi village of Awatovi was apparently wandering from its traditional religious beliefs, even flirting with Christianity.  The half dozen other villages were alarmed at this development.  The men got together and in one night massacred all the inhabitants of Awatovi, except for a few women and children.   The amazing thing was that these were their fellow tribesmen, their own kin, not some outside group threatening them.

So these are just some examples of THAT choice of path, life or death, heaven or hell, and here they are writ extra large and played out on the grand stage of history.  Here we are mostly “spectators,” troubled and bewildered by what we see.  However, that choice is also very much present in the nitty-gritty of our everyday life.  At times secretly and obscurely, at other times very obviously, we are always and everywhere present at that choice in all we do, say, think….  In a very real sense in all that we actually then become life or death, we become hell or heaven.  That’s what Hakuin was getting at.

  1. The vow of poverty.

I am thinking of the classic vow that Catholic monks and nuns profess (and some religious), and this is not to be confused with the economic condition that can be quite deleterious to people, both physically and mentally.  In fact even the vow, ancient as it is, can still be muddled, misrepresented, and totally distorted.  Lets ponder this one a bit.

First, a couple of funny stories: 

When I was studying theology in Berkeley back around 1982, I was once invited by a group of young Jesuit fellow students to go out for a festive meal.  It was quite a gourmet affair!  At the end I naively asked how were we paying for this, thinking we would all share in the cost.  One of the Jesuit’s held up a credit card and proclaimed:  “Our Lady of Visa!”

A few years earlier Dan Berrigan visited that Jesuit theologate for about several months.  Berrigan was a famous (in some circles infamous!) Jesuit:  poet, good friend of Thomas Merton and Dorothy Day, and a radical peace activist.  He believed in living in Catholic Worker simplicity.  After experiencing life at the Jesuit theologate for a while, he quipped:  “If this be poverty, bring on chastity!”  (Actually he was not far off on that one, but that’s another story!)

                                                                                                                                                                               

What the vow of poverty really means is not easy to grasp.  Our notions about it can be truly muddled in several different ways:

  1. Poverty is viewed in a sort of arithmetic mode—so if you have 10 things, then get rid of 4, you have increased  your observance of “poverty.”  This kind of approach comes from a mistaken imitation of iconic folks like Francis of Assisi and some of the Desert Fathers and also from some language in the Gospels.  The fact is that all these point to a much deeper sense of what this vow is all about, and which you can completely miss by a crude imitation.  Yes,  a kind of simplification of life is truly commendable and spiritually healthy, but it is not yet at the heart of this vow of poverty.
  1. Also commendable is the attempt to live in solidarity with the truly poor of the world.  A strong motivation for “poverty” but also not yet at the heart of it all.
  1. A common distortion of the vow of poverty takes place when the monk/religious claims “poverty” while relying expansively on the collective resources of the group….and the financial support of wealthy benefactors.  Now there is nothing wrong in monks holding out a begging bowl as it were.  It is an ancient tradition in many places.  There is an equally strong tradition where monks should be self-supporting through the labor of their hands.  In any case, the individual religious benefits from the collective wealth of the institution.  Needless to say this opens up a lot  of possibilities to distortions of all kinds.
  1. Another problem view of the vow of poverty…..what I call the “modern age approach.”  “We modern people have different needs and a different sensibility, so the vow of poverty will be expressed differently by us.”  Yes, there is a grain of truth in all this, but one problem is that poverty begins to mean whatever we want  it to mean.  At times this practice becomes a total joke and really a scandal .  

What is at the heart of the vow of poverty?  We can begin by saying that the vow initiates a kind of deconstruction of our identity through “ownership.”  “I am what  I own.”  Or, “I own, therefore I am.”  What I possess gives me a sense of my own reality…..such is the subtext of much of social life.    So the vow brings (or should bring) all this into question.  I mean, what a strange thing “ownership” really is, if you think about  it!  Look at those archetypal stories about the monk and the robber who has come to rob his cell….the monk running after the robber with some item that the robber somehow missed!  Those kind of stories hit at that central illusion of this ego self “owning” something.  And then think of that absurdity of “owning” land.  The earth we live upon is a shared reality.  Native Americans had no sense of individuals owning particular plots of land; the tribe as a whole looked upon an area of land as a hunting ground for the tribe.  This points to what Thich Nhat Hanh called “interbeing.”  The essence of our existence is interrelatedness; in a very real sense we live a shared reality, not as “owners” but as participants in that reality.  In my opinion Catholic theology and spirituality does not do a very good job of elucidating that vision.  The closest we get is the notion of “stewardship.”  We are called to be good “stewards,” etc., etc.  So the vow of poverty is a marker of sorts of our “interbeing,” but you see it has to be real.  And this is the hard part!  Because that may mean quite different things in different concrete contexts.  And, really, one can even use physical poverty to solidify one’s illusory notion of this ego self “not owning” anything.  In that case, the vow not only does not deconstruct this “owner ego,” but it in fact puts him/her on a pedestal to be admired….  The bottom line is that it takes real spiritual discernment (so, so hard to get) to see what is your path of poverty.

And if you want a glimpse of what ultimately the real “practice of poverty” teaches us, here is a quote from Merton that tells it all:

“At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us… It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely…I have no program for this seeing.  It is only given.  But the gate of heaven is everywhere.”

  1. A song:  “Suzanne”

Just like Jerry Garcia’s “Ripple,” this is a very special song….one of my big favorites.  It comes from pop culture, but it is sooooo  much more than that!  Written by Canadian songwriter and poet Leonard Cohen, it has the multi layered textuality and the subtle symbolism of great poetry but with no pretense at all.  Here are the lyrics:

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river
You can hear the boats go by, you can spend the night beside her
And you know that she’s half-crazy but that’s why you want to be there
And she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China
And just when you mean to tell her that you have no love to give her
Then she gets you on her wavelength
And she lets the river answer that you’ve always been her lover

And you want to travel with her, and you want to travel blind
And then you know that she will trust you
For you’ve touched her perfect body with your mind

And Jesus was a sailor when he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching from his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain only drowning men could see him
He said all men will be sailors then until the sea shall free them
But he himself was broken, long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human, he sank beneath your wisdom like a stone

And you want to travel with him, and you want to travel blind
And then you think maybe you’ll trust him
For he’s touched your perfect body with his mind

Now, Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river
She’s wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters
And the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbor
And she shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers
There are heroes in the seaweed, there are children in the morning
They are leaning out for love and they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds the mirror

And you want to travel with her, and you want to travel blind
And then you know that you can trust her
For she’s touched your perfect body with her mind

On one level the poem seems to start out as an intriguing and warm portrayal of a man’s relationship with a mentally disabled woman.  But the poem very quickly jumbles all such expectations.  I wonder what the people from pop culture circles made of this song!  To begin to understand it’s multi layered symbolism, “you will have to travel blind.”  Some quick notes and hints:

Consider Suzanne not only as a real woman, but also as symbol/embodiment of Hagia Sophia, Holy Wisdom,  Sophia, Divine wisdom….in Jewish mysticism (Cohen is Jewish) and in late Russian theology God’s wisdom is feminine, Sophia, related to the Holy Spirit.  Do you see now that the sudden intrusion of Jesus is not so “intrusive”?  

Note the dark allusion to “your wisdom.”   Implied contrast to Suzanne’s “wisdom.”

The image of this mentally disabled girl as  icon/embodiment of Divine Wisdom is a rich paradox beyond words.   Connections to the “fool” tradition….another manifestation of Divine Wisdom….Suzanne as “fool.”

(Haunting echoes of Oedipus for whom wisdom and blindness are coterminous.)

But don’t forget the poem is also about a complex man/woman relationship.  

Recall also Merton falling in love with that nurse, which  inspired his beautiful meditation on Hagia Sophia.

And at this  link you will hear Cohen’s own rendition of this beautiful song with the lyrics showing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svitEEpI07E

Fools & Fools

A topic I have neglected for decades, but one which I was very fond of back in the ‘70s and ‘80s when I was in formal monastic life.  More specifically, I was intensely attracted to this phenomenon known as the “fool for Christ.”  This person is much better known in Eastern Christianity and understandable perhaps only within the cultural and religious matrix of that world than anywhere  or anytime in the West.  However, these days you could easily say that he/she is merely a “storybook presence” anywhere, if even that.  Given all that, there is something profound within that reality that challenges our common knowledge and ordinary vision of things.  So….lets reflect a bit on this fool….

The ”fool for Christ” is a specifically Christian version of a more universal type.  The “fool” as such makes his/her appearance in all places and in all times.  You usually don’t think of the Asian traditions as being any kind of bearers of this reality, but truly they are.  I won’t be examining the Asian version of the “fool” at this time, but here’s a few examples:  Zhuangzi  , one of the key figures of original Taoism, Han shan, poet and hermit of the late Tang….these are reasonably known….but there’s a couple of Zen masters  much less so.   There is Baisao in the 17th century, a Japanese Zen monk who left his monastery and the priesthood and peddled tea in the streets of Kyoto.  And then there is Daito Kokushi, an incredible Zen master who lived under a bridge in Kyoto for two decades….eventually even the Emperor became his apprentice and disciple.  And many more.  The Sufis in Islam also have a great tradition in this regard, but that  too deserves its own treatment.

What do we really mean when we say this person is a “fool” in the sense we intend?  The word is very ambiguous, and possibly naming very disparate phenomena and so having confusingly different meanings.  Trying to define our “fool” is not the way to go.  Instead we should approach this reality phenomenologically….just look at this kind of life as a lived experience and not  freeze labels on it.

Sticking to the West, lets begin in ancient Greece:  Diogenes the Cynic (a word with a different meaning in ancient Greek than in modern English…..Cynicism was a school of philosophy.)  Briefly, from Wikipedia:

“Diogenes made a virtue of poverty. He begged for a living and often slept in a large ceramic jar in the marketplace. He used his simple lifestyle and behavior to criticize the social values and institutions of what he saw as a corrupt, confused society. He had a reputation for sleeping and eating wherever he chose in a highly non-traditional fashion and took to toughening himself against nature. He declared himself a cosmopolitan and a citizen of the world rather than claiming allegiance to just one place.

… believing that virtue was better revealed in action than in theory….he became notorious for his philosophical stunts, such as carrying a lamp during the day, claiming to be looking for a human being (often rendered in English as “looking for an honest man”). He criticized Plato, disputed his interpretation of Socrates, and sabotaged his lectures, sometimes distracting listeners by bringing food and eating during the discussions. Diogenes was also noted for having mocked Alexader the Great, both in public and to his face when he visited Corinth in 336 BC. 

….while Diogenes was relaxing in the morning sunlight, Alexander, thrilled to meet the famous philosopher, asked if there was any favor he might do for him. Diogenes replied, ‘Yes, stand out of my sunlight.’ Alexander then declared, ‘If I were not Alexander, then I should wish to be Diogenes.’ To which Diogenes replied, ‘If I were not Diogenes, I would still wish to be Diogenes.’ In another account of the conversation, Alexander found the philosopher looking attentively at a pile of human bones. Diogenes explained, ‘I am searching for the bones of your father but cannot distinguish them from those of a slave.’”

Among other things this points to one very critical characteristic of the “fool” in our sense of the term: a clarity and boldness in truth-telling.  Now we need to face a certain conundrum.  Our “fool” may be mentally ill or simply pretending to be so.  In either case the truth-telling dynamic is present and is  key. Obviously not every mentally ill person has this gift; some simply suffer from this illness and find themselves  in a labyrinth  of darkness.  But our “fool” is so gifted and has a boldness and clarity within a certain range of experience.  However, it is often hard or impossible to tell which phenomenon we are witnessing!

The second example I want to bring forward is from literature:  the Fool in Shakespeare’s King Lear.  A truly remarkable figure!  He can easily be brushed aside as a certain type that was not uncommon in the courts of medieval Europe, a jester, a court entertainer, a comedian, a clown, etc.  But this Fool is all that and so, so much more.  Here I want to quote from a letter by Simone Weil.  This was written to her parents just a few weeks before her death at age 34.  This amazing woman, a true genius if there ever was one, a genuine mystic, had just seen Shakespeare’s play once more, and she was profoundly affected by this Fool.  Weil:

  “When I saw Lear here, I asked myself how it was possible that the unbearably tragic character of these fools had not been obvious long ago to everyone, including myself.  The tragedy is not the sentimental one it is sometimes thought to be; it is this:

There is a class of people in this world who have fallen into the lowest degree of humiliation, far below beggary, and who are deprived not only of all social consideration but also, in everybody’s opinion, of the specific human dignity, reason itself—and these are the only people who, in fact, are able to tell the truth. All the others lie.

In Lear it is striking. Even Kent and Cordelia attenuate, mitigate, soften, and veil the truth; and unless they are forced to choose between telling it and telling a downright lie, they maneuver  to evade it. What makes the tragedy extreme is the fact that because the fools possess no academic titles or episcopal dignities and because no one is aware that their sayings deserve the slightest attention—everybody being convinced a priori of the contrary, since they are fools—their expression of truth is not even listened to. Everybody, including Shakespeare’s readers and audiences … is unaware that what they say is true. And not satirically or humorously true, but simply the truth. Pure unadulterated truth—luminous, profound and essential.“

In the beginning of the play we see the valuing of justice, the social order, and the reality of kingship (which symbolizes and embodies the unity of the whole realm).  We also see the valuing of loyalty, filial devotion, and respect for old age.  But Lear is socially blind and totally lacking in self-knowledge.  Disaster begins with his choices and chaos unfolds as soon as Lear misreads the words and gestures of his three daughters, two of which have evil intentions seeking to dispossess their father and get rid of  him.  As the play unfolds Lear ends up seeing that justice, order, and kingship are just smooth terms that conceal  raw, brutal power; and as madness threatens his mind, paradoxically his self-knowledge grows, but all to no avail now.  All along the Fool has been at his side, whispering, singing, riddling the truth to him but also to no avail.  In one of the last scenes Lear is wandering alone on the heath (wilderness area of Old England…and a kind of anti-Garden of Eden), in a storm and in the darkness of night…..and only the Fool is his companion, never abandoning him.

(Here we might remember a more diluted version of this phenomenon in that fairy tale, “The Emperor’s New Clothes.”  It is The Child, and only the child, who openly names the reality that is in front of everyone but not acknowledged for one reason or another:  “The Emperor has no clothes on….”)

And here we are getting close to our very special fool: the fool for Christ.  To get to the special Christian character of this fool, we  need to turn to the New Testament, specifically to Pauline language:

“We are fools for Christ’s sake, but you are wise in Christ; we are weak, but you are strong; you are honorable, but we are despised.”

“Do not deceive yourselves. If you think that you are wise in this age, you should become fools so that you may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God’s sight.”

“For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. 19For it is written, ‘I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.’ Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? 21For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, God decided, through the foolishness of our proclamation, to save those who believe. 22For Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wisdom, 23but we proclaim Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, 24but to those who are the called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. 25For God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength. 26Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. 27But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; 28God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, 29so that no one might boast in the presence of God. 30He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption,….”

You cannot overstate how shocking and radical this language really is.  However, the basic Christian/Catholic in the pew (and this includes the monk in  his comfortable monastery) cannot really hear the original power of this language in our lives.  It has all been eroded away.  First, by the natural process of continual repetition that goes on and on in “proclamation” without first the words passing through the heart and disclosing a reality there for which we  have no words.  Secondly, and more importantly, the “message” has been softened and softened and softened….until there are only the words….and there is no life anymore in those words….in all our religious language in the midst of all the linguistic noise of our environment.  In the second half of the 20th century thoughtful people began to speak of the “Silence of God.”  

But lets get back to the historical, existential “fools,” both in western Christianity and in Eastern Orthodoxy.  We begin to find examples of this “foolishness” among the Desert Fathers, and the phenomenon appears through the centuries, though with remarkable variety.  Some exhibit eccentric, off-beat behavior; some feebleness of mind, either real or pretended; some take up radical poverty and homelessness; some hang out with thieves and prostitutes, etc.  If you go on the internet and consult Wikipedia on “foolishness for Christ,” you will find a host of examples.  What may be surprising is to see Francis of Assisi among the examples….he has been coopted and made to seem very “establishment” in modern times.  But if you think about it, he fits right in.  Certainly some of the other members of that primitive Franciscan movement truly belong.  However, what’s most interesting is what happens in Russia.  From medieval times to the 19th century there manifested a whole subculture of “fools for Christ,” the yurodivy.  The Russian Orthodox Church recognized this “foolishness” as a special and blessed way of life.  Even the autocratic Tsar recognized and respected “the fool.” And this figure appears in Russian art and literature.  There are at least 36 canonized “fools” in the Russian Church; among the most famous is a woman, St. Xenia of Petersburg.  

At this point it is important to remember two critical characteristics of this “foolishness for Christ.”  First, you can throw out the window all modern notions of vocation when considering this reality.  No one takes this life up at the end of a process of discernment; there is no “formation,” no novitiate, no identity problems (“what is our group’s charism?! What is our special place in the church?).  No, you are more likely hurled into this life; it is not a matter of choice.  Or one day you just wake up into this reality.  It was certainly not something you planned!  Or, most  likely, you don’t even recognize this reality as it unfolds in your life.  The “real thing” does not stand there, looking at itself in the mirror, saying, “Ok, now I am a Fool.”

Secondly, and more importantly, all the eccentricities of the Fool are merely, to borrow a Zen phrase, “a finger pointing at the moon” (the moon is a symbol of full enlightenment in Zen poetry).  The Fool is there in the service of an amazing inner reality, one which cannot be measured, cannot be controlled, cannot be encompassed, cannot even be conceived within the categories of our usual organized social and religious life.  Think again of that Pauline language.  It speaks of God’s wisdom as unspeakable foolishness of sorts.  Now there are two distinct traditions of reflection on Divine Wisdom.  There is the theological, contemplative “Hagia Sophia,” Holy Wisdom, the feminine side of the Divine Presence.   And a beautiful example of this can be found in Merton’s profound meditation with that precise title: “Hagia Sophia.”  Russian theology and literature have been deeply influenced by this tradition.  Then there is the other tradition of Divine Wisdom, the Pauline Divine Foolishness.  Lest we tame this term into a pious platitude, the historical Fool is there like a slap in  the face of our conventional, respectable religiosity.  

Now lets return to that universal, spiritual question: who am I?  Back to that mirror…you stand there and look at yourself…..you see yourself in a manner of speaking….you are somebody….there are all these credentials….some you were born into, some you acquired, some you saw as blessings, others as something else!  But remember this, you are  an expression of Divine Wisdom, and absolutely none of those credentials can indicate that.  And that Divine Wisdom is both Hagia Sophia and that Divine Foolishness which ultimately smashes that mirror you are constantly looking at.  It is then that the real spiritual life begins, and you find that you are never, never far from the “fool for Christ.”  In that “place” suffering and joy are intertwined, gain and loss have no meaning, and solitude and communion are simply the two  sides of the same Reality.

Observations

  1. Recently I saw this story on the online version of the New York Times.

How to Live a Happy Life, From a Leading Atheist

“I want people to see what a meaningful, happy life I’ve had with these beliefs,” says philosopher Daniel C. Dennett. “I don’t need mystery.”

I was certainly curious and eager to read this story which seems to be a kind of review of a new book by Daniel Dennett.  However, I needed to pay the New York Times for the privilege of reading it, and that I was not going to do.  But I  could still ponder these words just as they are.

Daniel Dennett is a well-known philosopher of science, very much admired by the bigwigs of Silicon Valley, a militant atheist, and a person whose writings I would generally avoid.  Here I am  intrigued by his  choice of words:  “meaningful,” “happy,” “need,” “mystery.”    The first two words are easy to dispose of.  Consider two iconic figures of the 20th century:  Hugh Hefner and Karl Rahner.  They were diametrical opposites in life.   The former espoused a philosophy of hedonism; the latter was a humble but brilliant Jesuit theologian.  But both could have said  they were living a “meaningful, happy life” within the context of their values and world view.  So these two words are rather vacuous until given a clear semantic context.

The next two words, “need” and “mystery,” are much more puzzling.  It does seem that his statement amounts to saying that “I don’t need the notion of God.”  Mystery = God.  Ok, understood, but I suspect that his understanding and use of the word “mystery” is of the common notion which would be applicable in science also.  Mystery here is a problem, enigma, riddle, puzzle; it’s something which baffles or perplexes. So, “mystery” simply means a certain lack of knowledge, which lack can or will be supplied sooner or later.  The reality in front of us is a mystery to us because of some current limitation to our knowledge, our understanding, our vision.  And this limitation can potentially be overcome at some future point when we apply more resources, etc.  Mystery is a provisional state; given enough time, enough resources, enough research, it will dissipate.  What seemed like a mystery in 1750 is now explained by science.  The murder of so-and-so remains a mystery until more evidence solves it.  Etc.  So I think Dennett relegates the notion of God to this level of mystery and he feels  he has “solved” that and it turns out he can live without it.

Now theology and authentic mysticism have a very different understanding of “mystery” as it applies to that  Ultimate Reality which we call God.  In the Catholic tradition we have the likes of Gregory of Nyssa, Pseudo-Dionysius, Thomas Aquinas, and the modern Karl Rahner, all of whom have emphatically pointed to God’s absolute incomprehensibility, meaning this is not something due to OUR limitations in this life but that this is the very nature of God.  In Rahner’s language, God is the Holy Mystery which is infinite, inexpressible, absolutely incomprehensible; but which yet draws near to us personally in self-communication deep within our being, our personhood, and deep within history in the person of Jesus Christ.  This self-communication unfolds as Love, as forgiveness, as truth, as beauty, as absolute goodness.  And when we die this self-communication of God continues for all eternity as we never exhaust the divine fullness.  God’s infinite Love fills our hearts with an infinite capacity to receive the endless ecstasy of the Divine Life.  This is Catholic theology at its best as it opens the door to an authentic mysticism.

Returning to Prof. Dennett’s statement, the “mystery” that Christian thought and mysticism speak of is not something that you need…like some extraneous element “outside” you….like something that you can choose.  Yes, there is a profound choice to face, but this is not it.  This Mystery is like the air you breathe…it surrounds you…you live within it…and you encounter it in all you see, whether a tiny leaf falling from a tree, a far-off galaxy whirling with millions of stars, a tear on a sad face….  This Mystery is also the fabric of your deepest personhood; it is that into which you are invited to lose yourselves in order to be constituted as persons.  Human beings are essentially oriented to mystery.  So, no, I don’t “need” mystery also, as if I were lacking something; it is the “givenness” of my existence, of my life.

  1. Two very different visions of the “good life.”

Also something that I saw in the news recently: examples of some strikingly different choices in what one might call the “good life.”  The first is a seemingly harmless version of hedonism, what I would call “escapist hedonism,” a kind of beach bum life.  This was espoused in the  songs of Jimmy Buffett, musician, song writer, and super rich.  He recently died so he was in the news, and his songs peppered You Tube.  His top hit and a key to his “message” is “Margaritaville.”  A very catchy tune which you can hear and see the lyrics here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67J_sUz7cdY

Actually Buffett was very hard working at pushing and selling this beach bum vision of life and made millions.  It’s a daydream kind of life which really amounts to nothing, but amazingly hordes of fans bought into this daydream.

The next choice is also another variant of hedonism, what I would call “engaged hedonism”:  the Burning Man Phenomenon.   Every year just before Labor Day some 80,000 or so people gather on the playa of the Black Rock Desert 90 miles north of Reno, and set up a temporary encampment of sorts for a week of “activities.”  It is quite a phenomenon to say the least with people coming from all over the world.  This year it was a bit of a mess due to unexpected rain!  

It is actually difficult to say what this is all about, but they do emphasize words like “participation,” “engagement,” “spontaneity,” “creativity,” etc.  The fact that sex and drugs are part of the picture is simply assumed, no need to talk about it.  People from various walks of life come (the ones I’ve met were very nice), but mostly they are well-off and many are very rich…I’ve heard of talk of some bringing a chef….some tents had chandeliers and portable showers…..  Actually it costs several thousand dollars just to be there, so you better have money.  

There’s a pretense that this is some kind of alternative society.  People leave the “constraints” of their regular life and are given the space to “cut loose” for a week.  That makes you wonder what their regular experience of life is like, what’s it all about!  The whole week’s experience culminates on the final night when an effigy of a human being, a totem of sorts, is burned in a huge display of fire and fireworks.  Again, not sure what  this means; certainly this fire is not the fire of the Burning Bush, nor is it the fire in which heretics were burned, nor  is it a warm quiet camp fire.  It seems to represent human creativity, spontaneity, or something like that.  But it is all, more or less, ego self-expression; and all the distortions of the ego get projected out into the beauty and night of the desert….which by    the way the participants do not notice….such is the self-absorption.  It’s such an historical irony that in the past the desert was where the first monks went out….to transcend the ego and encounter God.

Here’s a brief You Tube video where you get to see a bit inside and meet some of the people:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGuW8AoipKY

And the next version of the “good life” ….”and now for something completely different”—to borrow from Monty Python!

Recently I saw a story on CNN about a family that hiked the three great trails of North America.  Mother and father are both doctors, and they have 5 children….and  all went!  First they  did the Appalachian Trail; the experience was so positive that nobody wanted to stop!  So next they did the Continental Trail in the Rockies; and  this year they did the incredible Pacific Crest Trail.  What a story!  They “homeschooled” their kids even out on the trail.  Looking at the photos of the family out in the wilderness, you can see the healthy faces of the kids; I mean healthy in a deep human way.  This experience will shape their  minds and hearts for life.  It opens up an awareness that no amount of money can buy.  And mom and dad sure do seem to have a good sense of what a “good life” entails.

Here is a link to that story:

https://www.cnn.com/travel/family-seven-hiking-americas-longest-trails/index.html

And for a different take on Burning Man, try this from The Onion:

https://www.theonion.com/what-to-know-about-burning-man-1850812531

  1. A few easy steps!

I am not a fan of spiritual methods, Christian or Buddhist or whatever.  But this  set of instructions speaks to me!  It is an excerpt from a poem by my favorite modern poet, W. S. Merwin…..the poem is called “Exercise.”

First forget what time it is
for an hour
do it regularly every day

then forget what day of the week it is
do this regularly for a week
then forget what country you are in
and practice doing it in company
for a week
then do them together
for a week
with as few breaks as possible

follow these by forgetting how to add
or to subtract
it makes no difference
you can change them around
after a week
both will help you later
to forget how to count

forget how to count
starting with your own age
starting with how to count backward
starting with even numbers
starting with Roman numerals
starting with fractions of Roman numerals
starting with the old calendar
going on to the old alphabet
going on to the alphabet
until everything is continuous again

Reminds of a couple of old zen/tao masters….one said to forget the self…the other said he wanted to meet the sage who had forgotten words!

When everything is continuous again…..!