When we have achieved the ability to see ourselves as we are – which is to say, when we have integrated our attachment to being this or that and our fear that we may never achieve it – we no longer need to seek our identity in the mirrors of others peoples' eyes. We KNOW what we are. And when we KNOW what we are, we also know that what other people THINK we are cannot possibly change it. At this point the perceptions of others are reduced to what they really are – the perceptions of others. They are not our SELVES, and they cannot in any way define us. At this point we become authentic. Authenticity leads to peace of mind.
I suspect people in public life have an especially difficult time with authenticity. After all, the very phrase “public life” means, “life in the public eye,” which is another way of saying, “life in the public perception.” People who seek a life in public perception tend not to be very introspective, and it is introspection that leads to authenticity.
This is not an introspective age and we Americans, in particular, aren’t very introspective. We live in the world of matter. We believe in science, the quantifiable, the “objective” – by which we mean, the external. We want our achievements and abilities graded: batting averages, football rankings, opinion polls, report cards, achievement tests, IQs, SAT scores.
Interestingly, this obsession with the external “objective” is the flip side of an internal myopia. The need to see ourselves mirrored in other people’s judgments of our abilities and achievements masks our inability to see the abilities and achievements themselves. Having abandoned our inner life, we have exiled ourselves to worrying about what OTHER people are thinking, rather than what WE are thinking. We spend our lives trying to manage OTHER peoples’ perceptions and expectations, rather than taking time to discover and enjoy the unique, idiosyncratic being WE are EXPRESSING. Make no mistake: inauthenticity is not a respecter of identities. Slavery to the opinions of others manifests equally in the aspiration to be a high school politician, a cheerleader, a bad-boy or a clown. If we are trying to manage other peoples' perceptions, we have not achieved authenticity.
One interesting thing about authenticity is that if we have it, we immediately recognize and appreciate it in others, and if we don’t have it, we don’t recognize or appreciate it at all. That’s because when we are authentic, we see other people as they are. When we are inauthentic, we are so busy trying to figure out what we SHOULD be thinking (because of what OTHER people might think of others and what other people might think of US if we think this or that about others) that we cannot possibly see anyone as they really are. What's possibly even worse, we can't trust what other people tell us, because we aren't sure that if we were in their place we would say something truthful ourselves.
It has become something of a national pass-time among Americans to disparage politicians. Yet the undeniable fact is, America is a democracy and every single politician in America was elected. So sorry as I am to say it, if we Americans want our politicians to be more authentic, we're just going to have to become more authentic ourselves.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
THE ECONOMIC CRISIS AS METAPHOR
First, the economic truth. The mainstream formulation that lays responsibility for the current economic crisis on excessive debt, or leverage, is only half right, because that debt could not exist without excessive global savings and the misguided government activities that have facilitated and perpetuated it.
Here’s the formula:
— Concentrations of wealth and export driven government policies result in savings that cannot be productively invested
— Savings that cannot be productively invested are unproductively invested , resulting in asset bubbles
— Unproductive investments fail, asset bubbles burst
— Financial intermediaries whose capital is tied up in overpriced assets are threatened with collapse
— Governments intervene to shore up financial intermediaries and purchase overpriced assets
— Assets are reflated, preserving wealth concentrations and excessive savings
— Excessive savings result in new, uneconomic investments
— New asset bubbles inflates, and so on
As noted above, most commentators blame the current situation on excessive debt, and there is a grain of truth in this. If human beings – particularly in the United States – did not want to consume more than can afford, we would not be facing the current problem. Advertising driven consumerism is an inherent aspect of modern American culture. And the apparent inability or unwillingness of many Americans to delay gratification has created an ever-increasing demand for consumer credit. But consumer credit is only a small part of the problem.
It is common knowledge that the United States has become a debtor nation. As widely reported, on September 30, 2008 the federal budget deficit crossed the $10 trillion threshold. But this number doesn’t include Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid and other unfunded obligations. If these unfunded obligations are included – as they are in the Government’s audited statements (which are well hidden, but nevertheless available on the Treasury’s website) the accumulated negative net worth of the federal government is now $59.1 trillion, or about $516,000 per household. Compared with this, the additional $112,000 per household for mortgages, car loans and credit card debt looks small! Nevertheless, all in, the average household debt of $628,000 is more than twelve times median household income ($50,233 as reported by the Census Bureau for 2007).
But this debt could not exist unless someone was willing to lend the money, for the undeniable fact is, every dollar of debt represents a dollar of savings. To the person who borrowed it, it's a debt, but to the person who lent it, it's an asset. And it is actually these assets, and their relentless pursuit of an economic return, that has created the situation in which we find ourselves.
According to the Federal Reserve’s most recent Survey of Consumer Finances, the richest one percent of families in the United States own 34.3% of the nation's net wealth (equivalent to accumulated savings). The top 10% of families own 71%. And the bottom 40% have virtually no savings at all (2/10s of 1% of total wealth to be exact). Concentrations of savings like this have not been seen since in the U.S. since just before the Great Depression.
But dislocation of savings is even more pronounced on an international level. In 2005, Ben Bernanke gave a speech in which he discussed the steep upward trajectory of the U.S. balance of payments deficit (from 1.5% of GDP in 2000 to 5 3/4 % in 2004). He asked the question, “Why is the United States, with the world's largest economy, borrowing heavily on international capital markets – rather than lending, as would seem more natural?” Although most commentators had ascribed the external borrowing to a low domestic savings rate and accompanying U.S. budget deficits, Bernanke didn’t buy it, pointing out that the U.S. current account deficit continued expanding during Clinton’s second term, when the U.S. budget was actually running an aggregate surplus of $300 billion. So if a low savings rate wasn’t the answer, what was? Bernanke’s answer was interesting:
"Although domestic developments have certainly played a role … over the past decade a combination of diverse forces has created a significant increase in the global supply of saving – a global saving glut – which helps to explain both the increase in the U.S. current account deficit and the relatively low level of long-term real interest rates in the world today. … [A]n important source of the global saving glut has been a remarkable reversal in the flows of credit to developing and emerging-market economies, a shift that has transformed those economies from borrowers on international capital markets to large net lenders."
In other words, rather than investing their savings at home, rich people in emerging-market countries were investing them in the United States. And in fact, their governments were facilitating the process by issuing debt and using the proceeds to buy U.S. Treasury securities and other assets “Effectively, governments have acted as financial intermediaries,” according to Bernanke, “channeling domestic saving away from local uses and into international capital markets.” From a governmental perspective, this was done, at least in part, to build up foreign exchange reserves to protect against possible capital outflows. But the fact is, it would not have been done to the extent it was if the power elites in those countries had not wanted to protect their savings.
In any given society at any given time, there are a limited number of investments that will yield an economic return. Exactly what those investments are will depend on the state of economic and technological development in that society at that time, as well as the distribution of wealth and income. When the demand for economic investments (determined by the level of saving) exceeds the supply, the prices of investments are bid up to a point where they no longer yield an economic return. When that happens, savings begin to flow into uneconomic investments.
While this sounds theoretical, if we take a look at what happened in the recent housing bubble, we can clearly see the process at work. As the bubble reached its zenith, the supply of savings flowing into collateralized mortgage obligations had become so great that economic returns could not be provided based on the current incomes of prospective borrowers at all. Rather, loans could be justified only on the assumption that the borrower’s income would increase in the future (so-called Alt A loans) or that the future savings of the borrower – measured in terms of increased asset values – would be depleted to make the payments. This was clearly an extreme situation.
In a free market economy, excess savings are automatically drained out of the system through asset deflation, as investments that do not provide an economic return decline in value. But we do not have a free market economy in the United States. Rather, what we have seen in recent decades is a pattern of government intervention on behalf of certain preferred groups – primarily well-to-do American and foreign citizens and foreign central banks – designed to prevent asset deflation, preserve excess savings and protect existing concentrations of wealth.
Whatever the problem has been – the Savings and Loan Crisis of the 1980s, the Dot-Com Bubble of the 1990s, or the Housing Bubble of the early 2000s – the cause has always been the same: excess savings that drove down the cost of capital and encouraged uneconomic investment. And the “remedy” has always been the same as well: reflation of asset values through the injection of money borrowed by the public sector. Actually, this “remedy” has not only protected existing concentrations of wealth, it has tended to concentrate domestic wealth further, because, as deficits were increased, taxes were decreased on those with high marginal rates of saving (i.e., the rich) while the increase in public sector debt forced cuts in expenditures favoring those with high marginal rates of consumption (i.e., the poor), further reducing their savings.
As stated above, the quantity and character of investments that will yield an economic return at a given point in time depends to some extent on the state of economic and technological development in a society. But I would argue that it also depends on the distribution of wealth. People who have not yet met their basic needs spend all of their income to meet those needs, while people who have already met their basic needs don’t have to. And while savings are necessary to finance capital investment, consumption is necessary to provide investment opportunity as well. There is a story that Henry Ford decided to give his workers a half day off on Saturdays. Asked why he did it, Ford replied that if his workers had no time off, they would also have no use for his cars. In other words, he recognized that his employees were also his customers, and it was their consumption that provided him with an economic investment opportunity. This way of thinking is notably lacking today – in the United States, and in emerging-market economies.
As noted, concentration of wealth and excess savings is not just a problem in America. The so called “export driven” model in emerging-market economies – based on keeping domestic wages low in order to capture an ever-increasing share of foreign markets – has resulted in excess savings in the form of foreign exchange surpluses. Invested in dollar denominated obligations, these savings have served to keep U.S. interest rates artificially low, encouraging uneconomic investments, whether in technology, consumer industries, or housing. The savings of emerging-market nations should be used to build infrastructure and raise wages at home, thereby increasing domestic demand. They should not be squandered on nonproductive foreign assets. And if they are, the U.S. government should certainly not intervene to perpetuate the misallocation of assets at the expense of future generations.
Debt is often reviled, and legitimately so – it enables irresponsibility, promotes anxiety and culminates in guilt. But make no mistake, debt cannot exist without savings to fuel it. And when excessive concentration of wealth drains resources away from what is needed to finance basic expenditures, it creates dislocations.
As people acquire wealth, they also acquire power. If they do not embrace philanthropy, they seek out ways to justify inequality. They buy media outlets; they endow chairs at universities; they finance think-tanks that promote their way of seeing the world. If their efforts are successful, they can wholly or partially define the universe of discourse within a society. This is also what we have seen in America.
Tax cuts, deregulation and free market economics have been mantras in the Unites States since the 1980s. But tax cuts have not been accompanied by decreases in public sector spending. And when unwise economic decisions have resulted in market crashes, free market principles have been cast to the winds, with governments borrowing money helter-skelter to protect existing wealth concentrations against loss at the expense of the general public – nearly half of whom do not even have appreciable savings.
Here’s the formula:
— Concentrations of wealth and export driven government policies result in savings that cannot be productively invested
— Savings that cannot be productively invested are unproductively invested , resulting in asset bubbles
— Unproductive investments fail, asset bubbles burst
— Financial intermediaries whose capital is tied up in overpriced assets are threatened with collapse
— Governments intervene to shore up financial intermediaries and purchase overpriced assets
— Assets are reflated, preserving wealth concentrations and excessive savings
— Excessive savings result in new, uneconomic investments
— New asset bubbles inflates, and so on
As noted above, most commentators blame the current situation on excessive debt, and there is a grain of truth in this. If human beings – particularly in the United States – did not want to consume more than can afford, we would not be facing the current problem. Advertising driven consumerism is an inherent aspect of modern American culture. And the apparent inability or unwillingness of many Americans to delay gratification has created an ever-increasing demand for consumer credit. But consumer credit is only a small part of the problem.
It is common knowledge that the United States has become a debtor nation. As widely reported, on September 30, 2008 the federal budget deficit crossed the $10 trillion threshold. But this number doesn’t include Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid and other unfunded obligations. If these unfunded obligations are included – as they are in the Government’s audited statements (which are well hidden, but nevertheless available on the Treasury’s website) the accumulated negative net worth of the federal government is now $59.1 trillion, or about $516,000 per household. Compared with this, the additional $112,000 per household for mortgages, car loans and credit card debt looks small! Nevertheless, all in, the average household debt of $628,000 is more than twelve times median household income ($50,233 as reported by the Census Bureau for 2007).
But this debt could not exist unless someone was willing to lend the money, for the undeniable fact is, every dollar of debt represents a dollar of savings. To the person who borrowed it, it's a debt, but to the person who lent it, it's an asset. And it is actually these assets, and their relentless pursuit of an economic return, that has created the situation in which we find ourselves.
According to the Federal Reserve’s most recent Survey of Consumer Finances, the richest one percent of families in the United States own 34.3% of the nation's net wealth (equivalent to accumulated savings). The top 10% of families own 71%. And the bottom 40% have virtually no savings at all (2/10s of 1% of total wealth to be exact). Concentrations of savings like this have not been seen since in the U.S. since just before the Great Depression.
But dislocation of savings is even more pronounced on an international level. In 2005, Ben Bernanke gave a speech in which he discussed the steep upward trajectory of the U.S. balance of payments deficit (from 1.5% of GDP in 2000 to 5 3/4 % in 2004). He asked the question, “Why is the United States, with the world's largest economy, borrowing heavily on international capital markets – rather than lending, as would seem more natural?” Although most commentators had ascribed the external borrowing to a low domestic savings rate and accompanying U.S. budget deficits, Bernanke didn’t buy it, pointing out that the U.S. current account deficit continued expanding during Clinton’s second term, when the U.S. budget was actually running an aggregate surplus of $300 billion. So if a low savings rate wasn’t the answer, what was? Bernanke’s answer was interesting:
"Although domestic developments have certainly played a role … over the past decade a combination of diverse forces has created a significant increase in the global supply of saving – a global saving glut – which helps to explain both the increase in the U.S. current account deficit and the relatively low level of long-term real interest rates in the world today. … [A]n important source of the global saving glut has been a remarkable reversal in the flows of credit to developing and emerging-market economies, a shift that has transformed those economies from borrowers on international capital markets to large net lenders."
In other words, rather than investing their savings at home, rich people in emerging-market countries were investing them in the United States. And in fact, their governments were facilitating the process by issuing debt and using the proceeds to buy U.S. Treasury securities and other assets “Effectively, governments have acted as financial intermediaries,” according to Bernanke, “channeling domestic saving away from local uses and into international capital markets.” From a governmental perspective, this was done, at least in part, to build up foreign exchange reserves to protect against possible capital outflows. But the fact is, it would not have been done to the extent it was if the power elites in those countries had not wanted to protect their savings.
In any given society at any given time, there are a limited number of investments that will yield an economic return. Exactly what those investments are will depend on the state of economic and technological development in that society at that time, as well as the distribution of wealth and income. When the demand for economic investments (determined by the level of saving) exceeds the supply, the prices of investments are bid up to a point where they no longer yield an economic return. When that happens, savings begin to flow into uneconomic investments.
While this sounds theoretical, if we take a look at what happened in the recent housing bubble, we can clearly see the process at work. As the bubble reached its zenith, the supply of savings flowing into collateralized mortgage obligations had become so great that economic returns could not be provided based on the current incomes of prospective borrowers at all. Rather, loans could be justified only on the assumption that the borrower’s income would increase in the future (so-called Alt A loans) or that the future savings of the borrower – measured in terms of increased asset values – would be depleted to make the payments. This was clearly an extreme situation.
In a free market economy, excess savings are automatically drained out of the system through asset deflation, as investments that do not provide an economic return decline in value. But we do not have a free market economy in the United States. Rather, what we have seen in recent decades is a pattern of government intervention on behalf of certain preferred groups – primarily well-to-do American and foreign citizens and foreign central banks – designed to prevent asset deflation, preserve excess savings and protect existing concentrations of wealth.
Whatever the problem has been – the Savings and Loan Crisis of the 1980s, the Dot-Com Bubble of the 1990s, or the Housing Bubble of the early 2000s – the cause has always been the same: excess savings that drove down the cost of capital and encouraged uneconomic investment. And the “remedy” has always been the same as well: reflation of asset values through the injection of money borrowed by the public sector. Actually, this “remedy” has not only protected existing concentrations of wealth, it has tended to concentrate domestic wealth further, because, as deficits were increased, taxes were decreased on those with high marginal rates of saving (i.e., the rich) while the increase in public sector debt forced cuts in expenditures favoring those with high marginal rates of consumption (i.e., the poor), further reducing their savings.
As stated above, the quantity and character of investments that will yield an economic return at a given point in time depends to some extent on the state of economic and technological development in a society. But I would argue that it also depends on the distribution of wealth. People who have not yet met their basic needs spend all of their income to meet those needs, while people who have already met their basic needs don’t have to. And while savings are necessary to finance capital investment, consumption is necessary to provide investment opportunity as well. There is a story that Henry Ford decided to give his workers a half day off on Saturdays. Asked why he did it, Ford replied that if his workers had no time off, they would also have no use for his cars. In other words, he recognized that his employees were also his customers, and it was their consumption that provided him with an economic investment opportunity. This way of thinking is notably lacking today – in the United States, and in emerging-market economies.
As noted, concentration of wealth and excess savings is not just a problem in America. The so called “export driven” model in emerging-market economies – based on keeping domestic wages low in order to capture an ever-increasing share of foreign markets – has resulted in excess savings in the form of foreign exchange surpluses. Invested in dollar denominated obligations, these savings have served to keep U.S. interest rates artificially low, encouraging uneconomic investments, whether in technology, consumer industries, or housing. The savings of emerging-market nations should be used to build infrastructure and raise wages at home, thereby increasing domestic demand. They should not be squandered on nonproductive foreign assets. And if they are, the U.S. government should certainly not intervene to perpetuate the misallocation of assets at the expense of future generations.
Debt is often reviled, and legitimately so – it enables irresponsibility, promotes anxiety and culminates in guilt. But make no mistake, debt cannot exist without savings to fuel it. And when excessive concentration of wealth drains resources away from what is needed to finance basic expenditures, it creates dislocations.
As people acquire wealth, they also acquire power. If they do not embrace philanthropy, they seek out ways to justify inequality. They buy media outlets; they endow chairs at universities; they finance think-tanks that promote their way of seeing the world. If their efforts are successful, they can wholly or partially define the universe of discourse within a society. This is also what we have seen in America.
Tax cuts, deregulation and free market economics have been mantras in the Unites States since the 1980s. But tax cuts have not been accompanied by decreases in public sector spending. And when unwise economic decisions have resulted in market crashes, free market principles have been cast to the winds, with governments borrowing money helter-skelter to protect existing wealth concentrations against loss at the expense of the general public – nearly half of whom do not even have appreciable savings.
If we were to take all the assets and all the liabilities in the world at any given time and put them on a spreadsheet, they would cancel each other out. It does not matter who owns and who owes. In good times and bad times, prosperity and depression, booms and busts, the same economic resources exist on earth. And except in times of war and natural disaster, there is always enough to provide the essentials. Luxuries, perhaps not.
So the problem is never one of resources. It is one of trust. Regardless of why or how savings become concentrated, why and how liabilities are created, when the distribution of wealth becomes sufficiently unbalanced that debtors can or will no longer meet their obligations, trust is lost.
If we step back and view the last decades as metaphor, it is not a pretty picture. Grasping, striving, manipulation, abuse, ever-deepening anxiety, ever-increasing greed – a veritable gumbo of unholy emotions. It is easy to see the dark side. But what’s the point of it all?
From a spiritual perspective, the point is to let it go. The point is to turn away from this Halloween show and realize that what is gained on this earth is left on this earth, and what is lost on this earth can never be a loss to our souls. We arrived here with nothing and nothing is what we will take when we leave. Our relationships with loved ones and most important, our relationship with God -- that is what matters. And until we realize it, we will suffer the nightmare of gain and loss.
In this world, Mother no one can love me
In this world, they do not know how to love me
Where is there pure loving love?
Where is there truly loving me?
There my soul longs to be
There my soul longs to be
-- Paramahansa Yogananda
If we step back and view the last decades as metaphor, it is not a pretty picture. Grasping, striving, manipulation, abuse, ever-deepening anxiety, ever-increasing greed – a veritable gumbo of unholy emotions. It is easy to see the dark side. But what’s the point of it all?
From a spiritual perspective, the point is to let it go. The point is to turn away from this Halloween show and realize that what is gained on this earth is left on this earth, and what is lost on this earth can never be a loss to our souls. We arrived here with nothing and nothing is what we will take when we leave. Our relationships with loved ones and most important, our relationship with God -- that is what matters. And until we realize it, we will suffer the nightmare of gain and loss.
In this world, Mother no one can love me
In this world, they do not know how to love me
Where is there pure loving love?
Where is there truly loving me?
There my soul longs to be
There my soul longs to be
-- Paramahansa Yogananda
Friday, August 29, 2008
The Secret You Don't Want to Hear
I’m going to tell you something that nobody has ever told you. Something that nobody ever will tell you. Something you probably don’t even want to hear it. Nevertheless, I'm going to tell it to you.
You’re not real.
That’s right. You - which is to say, all the dear little qualities, opinions, talents, abilities, gifts and graces, plans and schemes, hopes and fears, successes and failures, likes and dislikes – all the things that make you that incomparable, delectable, indefinable “you” – the ideals you cherish, the memories you treasure, the feelings you hold onto – none of them are real. They are like bubbles. They are flights of fancy, castles in the air, dreams within a dream. And the dream, my friend, is you. The myth of your separate existence and the time and the space it inhabits, it is all a dream. And the dreamer is God. The only real and lasting Being, the only Source, the only Power, the only Substance, the Beginning and End, Alpha and Omega, it is God. And the only point of view from which creation can be reconciled or justified, the only perspective from which it makes the slightest bit of sense, is God’s.
Consciousness is God. Awareness is God. The dimensionless dimension in which this colossal show goes on, is God. And the same eternal Awareness that permeates all space and time, also permeates the dream that is you. Locked in the cage of your body and mind, playing the role of your existence, that Awareness has come to believe it is you. And it will go on thinking it is you, seeking conditions that appear congenial, avoiding conditions that appear hostile, exploring the potentialities of your dream-existence, life after life, until it finally exhausts them all. And it will exhaust them. First, because it has eternity to do it in, and second because nothing individuality can offer will ever satisfy the aching need for Eternal Omniscience that is in God.
Thirty-five years ago (or 35 lifetimes, or 35 millennia, whatever) when I first understood by inference the truth of what I have just written, frankly, it scared the hell out of me, I can tell you. Because it seemed to mean that the only goal of individual existence was that one reached the end of it. Given the suffering that comes with any degree of self-examination, that seemed cruel to me. I couldn’t see why God would so delude himself as to create such as me. What’s more, I couldn’t imagine what the end of me might mean in terms I could understand or appreciate. Locked in the labyrinth of my life and my mind, I had no way to experience that pure Awareness that lay behind it, and which is God.
Things are different now. I will not say I have found God, because I have not. But in meditation, there have been glimpses. Finding God is not like finding a penny - or a dollar, or a diamond. It is not an event; it is not an act. It does not have a beginning or an end, because God does not have a beginning or an end. God is Eternal Awareness, and the only way to find God is to remain in unbroken awareness of that Awareness. In that Awareness, individuality is dissolved. Eternal Awareness of Eternal Awareness. That is what it means to find God.
You’re not real.
That’s right. You - which is to say, all the dear little qualities, opinions, talents, abilities, gifts and graces, plans and schemes, hopes and fears, successes and failures, likes and dislikes – all the things that make you that incomparable, delectable, indefinable “you” – the ideals you cherish, the memories you treasure, the feelings you hold onto – none of them are real. They are like bubbles. They are flights of fancy, castles in the air, dreams within a dream. And the dream, my friend, is you. The myth of your separate existence and the time and the space it inhabits, it is all a dream. And the dreamer is God. The only real and lasting Being, the only Source, the only Power, the only Substance, the Beginning and End, Alpha and Omega, it is God. And the only point of view from which creation can be reconciled or justified, the only perspective from which it makes the slightest bit of sense, is God’s.
Consciousness is God. Awareness is God. The dimensionless dimension in which this colossal show goes on, is God. And the same eternal Awareness that permeates all space and time, also permeates the dream that is you. Locked in the cage of your body and mind, playing the role of your existence, that Awareness has come to believe it is you. And it will go on thinking it is you, seeking conditions that appear congenial, avoiding conditions that appear hostile, exploring the potentialities of your dream-existence, life after life, until it finally exhausts them all. And it will exhaust them. First, because it has eternity to do it in, and second because nothing individuality can offer will ever satisfy the aching need for Eternal Omniscience that is in God.
Thirty-five years ago (or 35 lifetimes, or 35 millennia, whatever) when I first understood by inference the truth of what I have just written, frankly, it scared the hell out of me, I can tell you. Because it seemed to mean that the only goal of individual existence was that one reached the end of it. Given the suffering that comes with any degree of self-examination, that seemed cruel to me. I couldn’t see why God would so delude himself as to create such as me. What’s more, I couldn’t imagine what the end of me might mean in terms I could understand or appreciate. Locked in the labyrinth of my life and my mind, I had no way to experience that pure Awareness that lay behind it, and which is God.
Things are different now. I will not say I have found God, because I have not. But in meditation, there have been glimpses. Finding God is not like finding a penny - or a dollar, or a diamond. It is not an event; it is not an act. It does not have a beginning or an end, because God does not have a beginning or an end. God is Eternal Awareness, and the only way to find God is to remain in unbroken awareness of that Awareness. In that Awareness, individuality is dissolved. Eternal Awareness of Eternal Awareness. That is what it means to find God.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
What Child is This?
If the world is metaphor, as I have written, the primal metaphor is family. Our relationship with the father – provider of the vital essence that becomes our life – is our relationship with the Heavenly Father, the divine Intelligence that dreams our existence. Our relationship with the mother – who nurtures us in the womb, and provides for our needs in infancy – is our relationship with the Divine Mother, the infinite Compassion that sustains us throughout eternity. If we have a loving relationship with our earthly Father and Mother, it is because, in the past, we have developed that relationship with God. And if there is something lacking in our relationship with our parents, there is something lacking in our relationship with God.
Yet whether the relationship with our parents is good or bad, perfected, or a work in process, sooner or later, they die; and sooner or later, we are left alone. There is a profound finality in this, whether it comes when we are 7 or 70; and there is an indelible poignancy in it – whether acknowledged or not. For in the end, we are each one of us orphans. We are each one of us alone. Each one of us will leave this world as we came into it – in utter isolation, in the presence of God alone. And if we feel inadequate, if we feel bereft, it is because our relationship with God is not yet deep enough.
My own Mom passed away June 29th in Boston. It wasn’t a surprise; she was 93, and for the last few months, her health wasn’t good. But she soldiered on to the end, singing “Blue Skies” to my wife on the phone a day before she died, making it a point to tell me what a great son I was, and how beautiful her life had been – as I told her she’d been a great Mom. “I’m not going to say goodbye,” she said. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
If life is a school, as they say, then death is the final exam. You can’t fake it, you can’t cheat, you can’t cram. Your whole life is a preparation for it. She passed the test, my Mom. What can I say? I miss her terribly.
Which is to say, I still have work to do. I am not close enough to God.
Yet whether the relationship with our parents is good or bad, perfected, or a work in process, sooner or later, they die; and sooner or later, we are left alone. There is a profound finality in this, whether it comes when we are 7 or 70; and there is an indelible poignancy in it – whether acknowledged or not. For in the end, we are each one of us orphans. We are each one of us alone. Each one of us will leave this world as we came into it – in utter isolation, in the presence of God alone. And if we feel inadequate, if we feel bereft, it is because our relationship with God is not yet deep enough.
My own Mom passed away June 29th in Boston. It wasn’t a surprise; she was 93, and for the last few months, her health wasn’t good. But she soldiered on to the end, singing “Blue Skies” to my wife on the phone a day before she died, making it a point to tell me what a great son I was, and how beautiful her life had been – as I told her she’d been a great Mom. “I’m not going to say goodbye,” she said. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
If life is a school, as they say, then death is the final exam. You can’t fake it, you can’t cheat, you can’t cram. Your whole life is a preparation for it. She passed the test, my Mom. What can I say? I miss her terribly.
Which is to say, I still have work to do. I am not close enough to God.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Justice in Gehenna
The good die young.
The rich get richer.
No good deed goes unpunished.
Behind every great fortune is a great crime.
Is the world ruled by law? Justice dispensed according to a law of cause and effect?
Seriously, what do you think, yes or no?
Under the Federal Sentencing Guidelines, you does less time for a fraud that costs ten thousand investors their life savings than you do for selling an undercover agent an ounce of crack cocaine. And you won’t do hard time, either.
If you buy a company in Ohio, fire the workers and move their jobs to China, you make more money than if you don't.
If you drop a bomb on an Iraqi grandmother, throw the wrong guy into a cell in Guantanamo, or distort the available intelligence to start a senseless war, chances are, you’ll retire on a pension.
These things are true. Indisputable phenomena. The question is, why?
Most of us believe in a God of righteousness. We believe this God has laws. We believe the laws are just. We believe there exists a law of cause and effect that applies to human actions – what they call in the East, a law of karma. This is a universal belief. The whole world believes in a justice of one form or another.
Why on earth would we believe that? I’m not denying that justice seems to prevail sometimes. But other times it surely doesn’t. If it’s a law, why isn’t it reliable? If the world is just, why don’t we SEE more justice in operation?
Let’s say you’re dumped on an island with a bunch of people you never met before. You have no idea how you got there. You just wake up one morning and there you are. Not being the nosey type (or particularly sociable) you decide the best thing is to just go about your business, keep you head down, and fend for yourself.
You build a little hut and enter survival mode – hunting, fishing, eating coconuts. Everything is alright for awhile, but then unpleasant things starts to happen. You go spear fishing one day and when you get back, the coconuts you gathered that morning are gone. A couple days later, the extra spear you made is missing. And a couple days after that, there’s a guy there WITH the spear – telling you he’s taken over your hut, and you’d better get the hell out now unless you want to fight him to the death for it – which he seems eager to do. So after a minute, you swallow your pride, turn tail and head off to start work on a new hut – and a new spear. But no sooner do you get yourself settled, than the pattern repeats itself. Except that this time, instead of one guy with a spear, its two guys, and the time after that, it’s five guys. And pretty soon, it becomes clear to you that this particular island is populated by a bunch of lunatics and criminals – and they are starting to band together. It seems your basic choices are to fight for your rights (individually or in some form of group), find a better way to hide, or give up building huts and become a nomad. Unless, of course, you could find a way off the island.
This is not a baseless story. A year ago, I spent a couple weeks on Molokai, the least developed of the Hawaiian islands. Molokai is known (among other things) for having the highest sea-cliffs in the world, with waterfalls cascading two thousand feet in a sheer drop to the sea. While I was there, we took a boat around to the windward side, where the cliffs are. It’s a beautiful, but forbidding place, of high winds, a heaving sea and crashing surf. As we headed around the point into the full force of the wind, I saw what looked like ruins, perched on a spit of isolated flatland that lay at the foot of impassable cliffs, the only access being by sea. It looked like some kind of settlement, and I asked the boatman if that’s what it was. He nodded, and I asked him why anyone would live in such a God forsaken place.
He smiled. “To get away from the wars,” he said. And I thought about that.
As I’ve suggested elsewhere, (Gehenna posted here April 24, 2008), the world is our island, and the message of Jesus Christ, Bhagavan Krishna and the rest of the saints and sages throughout the ages is, “If you want to find happiness, get off the island.”
"My Kingdom is not of this world," Jesus said (John 18:36). “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth …. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.” (Matthew 6:9-20).
In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna tells his disciple, “O devotee: Get away from My ocean of suffering, death and misery!” (Ch XII, Yogananda’s translation)
Now the truly peculiar thing about the island we live on is, we can leave any time we want to. There’s no forbidding ocean around it, no mighty wind, no crashing surf. True, people will try to talk us into staying – our family, coworkers, friends. They’ll tell us we’re crazy. And they’ll mean what they say. They’ll have our best interests at heart. There will be no reinforcement. Our culture will engage us, dissuade us, entice us. But the bottom line is this: the only thing that can keep us on the island of this earth is our desire for the things we think we can get here and our fear of giving them up.
Now, suppose you were a just and loving God, and for that very reason, you had created this island with its mélange of troublesome inhabitants. (You could call it hell, or Gehenna, for example.) And suppose further that a principal characteristic of the inhabitants you had created was that you had given them something called “free will” – the apparent ability to decide what they would do and not do, based on their own perceived self-interest. Of course, having created this island and these inhabitants, you would know that the only hope any of them would have for achieving lasting peace would be to get the hell off the island and move on to a place where the inhabitants had learned to identify their self-interest with the interest of a larger group. But having given the inhabitants free will, there wouldn’t be any way you could force them into doing it.
Now taking all that as given, the question is, what would “justice” look like on the island?
The answer is, it would look pretty much the way it does on earth. Virtue would apparently be punished and vice rewarded, because the real punishment would be getting what you wanted (this would motivate you to stick around and suffer some more) whereas the real reward would be getting disillusioned (which would motivate you to get out of the place for good).
This is why the great masters agree, the best thing is not to get involved with the world. Renounce it. Give it up. It is fundamentally irredeemable.
I admit, it’s a hard truth, but then, when was truth ever easy.
The rich get richer.
No good deed goes unpunished.
Behind every great fortune is a great crime.
Is the world ruled by law? Justice dispensed according to a law of cause and effect?
Seriously, what do you think, yes or no?
Under the Federal Sentencing Guidelines, you does less time for a fraud that costs ten thousand investors their life savings than you do for selling an undercover agent an ounce of crack cocaine. And you won’t do hard time, either.
If you buy a company in Ohio, fire the workers and move their jobs to China, you make more money than if you don't.
If you drop a bomb on an Iraqi grandmother, throw the wrong guy into a cell in Guantanamo, or distort the available intelligence to start a senseless war, chances are, you’ll retire on a pension.
These things are true. Indisputable phenomena. The question is, why?
Most of us believe in a God of righteousness. We believe this God has laws. We believe the laws are just. We believe there exists a law of cause and effect that applies to human actions – what they call in the East, a law of karma. This is a universal belief. The whole world believes in a justice of one form or another.
Why on earth would we believe that? I’m not denying that justice seems to prevail sometimes. But other times it surely doesn’t. If it’s a law, why isn’t it reliable? If the world is just, why don’t we SEE more justice in operation?
Let’s say you’re dumped on an island with a bunch of people you never met before. You have no idea how you got there. You just wake up one morning and there you are. Not being the nosey type (or particularly sociable) you decide the best thing is to just go about your business, keep you head down, and fend for yourself.
You build a little hut and enter survival mode – hunting, fishing, eating coconuts. Everything is alright for awhile, but then unpleasant things starts to happen. You go spear fishing one day and when you get back, the coconuts you gathered that morning are gone. A couple days later, the extra spear you made is missing. And a couple days after that, there’s a guy there WITH the spear – telling you he’s taken over your hut, and you’d better get the hell out now unless you want to fight him to the death for it – which he seems eager to do. So after a minute, you swallow your pride, turn tail and head off to start work on a new hut – and a new spear. But no sooner do you get yourself settled, than the pattern repeats itself. Except that this time, instead of one guy with a spear, its two guys, and the time after that, it’s five guys. And pretty soon, it becomes clear to you that this particular island is populated by a bunch of lunatics and criminals – and they are starting to band together. It seems your basic choices are to fight for your rights (individually or in some form of group), find a better way to hide, or give up building huts and become a nomad. Unless, of course, you could find a way off the island.
This is not a baseless story. A year ago, I spent a couple weeks on Molokai, the least developed of the Hawaiian islands. Molokai is known (among other things) for having the highest sea-cliffs in the world, with waterfalls cascading two thousand feet in a sheer drop to the sea. While I was there, we took a boat around to the windward side, where the cliffs are. It’s a beautiful, but forbidding place, of high winds, a heaving sea and crashing surf. As we headed around the point into the full force of the wind, I saw what looked like ruins, perched on a spit of isolated flatland that lay at the foot of impassable cliffs, the only access being by sea. It looked like some kind of settlement, and I asked the boatman if that’s what it was. He nodded, and I asked him why anyone would live in such a God forsaken place.
He smiled. “To get away from the wars,” he said. And I thought about that.
As I’ve suggested elsewhere, (Gehenna posted here April 24, 2008), the world is our island, and the message of Jesus Christ, Bhagavan Krishna and the rest of the saints and sages throughout the ages is, “If you want to find happiness, get off the island.”
"My Kingdom is not of this world," Jesus said (John 18:36). “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth …. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.” (Matthew 6:9-20).
In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna tells his disciple, “O devotee: Get away from My ocean of suffering, death and misery!” (Ch XII, Yogananda’s translation)
Now the truly peculiar thing about the island we live on is, we can leave any time we want to. There’s no forbidding ocean around it, no mighty wind, no crashing surf. True, people will try to talk us into staying – our family, coworkers, friends. They’ll tell us we’re crazy. And they’ll mean what they say. They’ll have our best interests at heart. There will be no reinforcement. Our culture will engage us, dissuade us, entice us. But the bottom line is this: the only thing that can keep us on the island of this earth is our desire for the things we think we can get here and our fear of giving them up.
Now, suppose you were a just and loving God, and for that very reason, you had created this island with its mélange of troublesome inhabitants. (You could call it hell, or Gehenna, for example.) And suppose further that a principal characteristic of the inhabitants you had created was that you had given them something called “free will” – the apparent ability to decide what they would do and not do, based on their own perceived self-interest. Of course, having created this island and these inhabitants, you would know that the only hope any of them would have for achieving lasting peace would be to get the hell off the island and move on to a place where the inhabitants had learned to identify their self-interest with the interest of a larger group. But having given the inhabitants free will, there wouldn’t be any way you could force them into doing it.
Now taking all that as given, the question is, what would “justice” look like on the island?
The answer is, it would look pretty much the way it does on earth. Virtue would apparently be punished and vice rewarded, because the real punishment would be getting what you wanted (this would motivate you to stick around and suffer some more) whereas the real reward would be getting disillusioned (which would motivate you to get out of the place for good).
This is why the great masters agree, the best thing is not to get involved with the world. Renounce it. Give it up. It is fundamentally irredeemable.
I admit, it’s a hard truth, but then, when was truth ever easy.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Evolution
Each soul is an individuated particle of consciousness, which has temporarily fallen in love with its individuality. So charmed has it become with this individuality, in fact, that it has temporarily lost sight of its universal nature and come to believe it IS the individuality.
The soul in this state of identification is called the ego.
As the ego explores, exhausts and eventually become disillusioned with its separate existence, the soul never changes in essence. It is pure consciousness, or awareness, untainted by its individuated content. It is this power of awareness that gives the ego the ability to learn and grow.
The limited is constrained by its limitation. Only by contact with the unlimited can it integrate what it thinks it is not.
There comes a time for each individual when the potentials of its particular uniqueness have been exhausted. This is a necessary part of the process because it is only when an individuated particle of consciousness has fallen OUT of love with its individuality that it becomes motivated to rediscover what it truly IS.
This, in a nutshell, is the drama of creation - or at least one version of it.
Evolution is a slow process – so slow that those progressing through it often fail to recognize or understand what is going on. In the final act, as evolution proceeds toward an understanding of what the soul truly IS, the process becomes uplifting. But in the long slog when the soul is experiencing the inherent limitations of individual existence – hunger, thirst, pain, injury, failure, death, thwarted desire, unrequited love – the process can be excruciating. In fact, it’s so painful at times that the ego simply can’t face it. This results in denial, or repression, a process that divides egoity into “conscious” and “subconscious” portions. But the consequences of action are never lost, so while this division provides temporary respite from the awareness of pain, the pain itself never leaves. It is only displaced, and continues to manifest in one way or other, until consciousness manages to penetrate the experience, and through acceptance and understanding, dissolve and break it down.
If evolution is sometimes painful, it is also sometimes exhausting. That’s why, regardless of how good or bad the day, no matter how exciting, insightful and exhilarating our experience has been, each night we eagerly abandon it and fall asleep. That is to say we forget our egoity and its physical metaphor, the body, and in deep sleep, enter at least for a time, the realm of our universal identity. And at the end of life, we enter the big sleep. Only this time we abandon awareness of the body for long enough that it decays, and we have to incarnate in a new one before we can resume the process of evolution again.
The pain and exhaustion of our former lives would be overwhelming if we could remember the details, which is why we cannot. But the effects of past causes can never be lost. So while the specific memories oremain hidden from us, when we are confronted with similar situations again – usually repeated because we failed to resolve them to our satisfaction the first time – the associated feelings return along with them. These mysterious feelings, that seem to come from nowhere, we call “moods”.
As each soul is different, so the course of its evolution is different, with many ins and outs, ups and downs along the way. In some incarnations, desires are gratified; in others, not. Sometimes we are rich, sometimes we are poor. In some lives the body is sick and weak; in others it is well and strong. In some lives we may be famous; in others, we are unknown.
Some waves are big and some are small. Big waves provide the drama of the creation; they heave and soar, born of violent upheavals, racing through life whipped by storms of desire, finally crashing with a frothy roar. Little waves arise too, making their gentle way through the world with barely a trace, falling peacefully and unnoticed on the shore.
This post is dedicated to you all.
The soul in this state of identification is called the ego.
As the ego explores, exhausts and eventually become disillusioned with its separate existence, the soul never changes in essence. It is pure consciousness, or awareness, untainted by its individuated content. It is this power of awareness that gives the ego the ability to learn and grow.
The limited is constrained by its limitation. Only by contact with the unlimited can it integrate what it thinks it is not.
There comes a time for each individual when the potentials of its particular uniqueness have been exhausted. This is a necessary part of the process because it is only when an individuated particle of consciousness has fallen OUT of love with its individuality that it becomes motivated to rediscover what it truly IS.
This, in a nutshell, is the drama of creation - or at least one version of it.
Evolution is a slow process – so slow that those progressing through it often fail to recognize or understand what is going on. In the final act, as evolution proceeds toward an understanding of what the soul truly IS, the process becomes uplifting. But in the long slog when the soul is experiencing the inherent limitations of individual existence – hunger, thirst, pain, injury, failure, death, thwarted desire, unrequited love – the process can be excruciating. In fact, it’s so painful at times that the ego simply can’t face it. This results in denial, or repression, a process that divides egoity into “conscious” and “subconscious” portions. But the consequences of action are never lost, so while this division provides temporary respite from the awareness of pain, the pain itself never leaves. It is only displaced, and continues to manifest in one way or other, until consciousness manages to penetrate the experience, and through acceptance and understanding, dissolve and break it down.
If evolution is sometimes painful, it is also sometimes exhausting. That’s why, regardless of how good or bad the day, no matter how exciting, insightful and exhilarating our experience has been, each night we eagerly abandon it and fall asleep. That is to say we forget our egoity and its physical metaphor, the body, and in deep sleep, enter at least for a time, the realm of our universal identity. And at the end of life, we enter the big sleep. Only this time we abandon awareness of the body for long enough that it decays, and we have to incarnate in a new one before we can resume the process of evolution again.
The pain and exhaustion of our former lives would be overwhelming if we could remember the details, which is why we cannot. But the effects of past causes can never be lost. So while the specific memories oremain hidden from us, when we are confronted with similar situations again – usually repeated because we failed to resolve them to our satisfaction the first time – the associated feelings return along with them. These mysterious feelings, that seem to come from nowhere, we call “moods”.
As each soul is different, so the course of its evolution is different, with many ins and outs, ups and downs along the way. In some incarnations, desires are gratified; in others, not. Sometimes we are rich, sometimes we are poor. In some lives the body is sick and weak; in others it is well and strong. In some lives we may be famous; in others, we are unknown.
Some waves are big and some are small. Big waves provide the drama of the creation; they heave and soar, born of violent upheavals, racing through life whipped by storms of desire, finally crashing with a frothy roar. Little waves arise too, making their gentle way through the world with barely a trace, falling peacefully and unnoticed on the shore.
This post is dedicated to you all.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Consciousness
Western science limits itself to the physical world: matter and motion within space and time. Scientific "proof" relies on the testimony of the five senses and various instruments designed to magnify the capacity of the senses to perceive various physical phenomena.
Western science does not deal with mental phenomena (ideas) or emotional phenomena (feelings). In the West, these are considered the realm of philosophy and psychology, rather than that of "pure science". This view is resolutely held in the face of the irrefutable fact that all creation -- human and otherwise -- clearly begins in the mind.
And, of course, science does not deal with consciousness, which can be defined as “pure awareness, independent of its content.” Scientists rely on -- indeed they could not exist without -- this attribute. But they don't study it. At times, philosophers have turned their attention to the subject of consciousness, but their discussion is muddled. They confuse consciousness with mind or the contents of mind: ideas and sensory phenomena. Of late, it has even become fashionable to seek an explanation for consciousness in organic chemistry or biology. These efforts are based on an ingrained and unexamined materialism, which results in what I call “cause-effect reversal”. These philosophers are like drunken men, wandering in a park, who wave their arms and think they have caused the wind.
“I think, therefore I am,” is exactly wrong. "I am, therefore I think", is closer to the truth (although I can also exist without thinking).
Awareness, or consciousness, is the primary and fundamental Fact of the Universe. Awareness is a mirror, that reflects whatever is held before it. Awareness without specific content can also be called Being. Awareness focused on itself is Self-Aware Being, which can also be called Self, as Self is nothing other than awareness of one’s own awareness or being.
The mistake Western philosophers make is in assuming consciousness is the effect of something else, when in reality it is the cause.
The great mystery of the universe is how the universe was (is) created. As I have suggested elsewhere, the universe is created first in intention. By that I mean, the intention within Consciousness to separate subject from object. In pure Self-Awareness, there is no separation. There is only Being. But, in the thought “creation”, the ideas, “creator” and “created” arise. Inherent in “created” is the idea of individuation. That which is “created” is separate both from the "creator" and everything else the creator has defined. Space and time are the “dimensions” of the created universe; individuation is the principle it comprises.
Within this scheme of subject and object, creator and created, another principle arises. To illustrate what it is, suppose you’re dreaming. In your dream, you’re in a bar talking baseball with a colleague from work. Your colleague (who happens to be a New Yorker) starts making disparaging remarks about your favorite team (which happens to be the Boston Red Sox). A heated argument ensues, and you wind up punching your colleague in the nose.
What does your colleague think about that?
He doesn’t think anything about it, does he? After all, he’s a dream colleague. He isn't real. He exists only in your consciousness. As the dreamer, you know all this this is true. But suppose you were to give your dream colleague the power of consciousness, do you suppose he would agree with you?
I have said that the first quality of consciousness is REFLECTIVITY; in other words, consciousness is like a mirror that reflects whatever it is focused upon.
As we have seen, the second quality of consciousness is PLASTICITY: its ability to assume any and every form.
A third attribute of consciousness, of which we, as individual parts of the creation, are both beneficiaries and -- for the most part -- unwitting victims, is its UBIQUITY. Consciousness permeates and comprises everything; it is all-in-all in the creation.
As God (or in other words, Eternal Self-Aware Consciousness) projects thoughts within the eternal mirror of Itself, each of those thoughts is also comprised of Itself, and is therefore conscious. But since each thought is apparently limited by it's nature (i.e., the character of its individuality) when that thought views its reflection in the mirror of Consciousness, it naturally assumes its “self” is the individual “self” of that thought and not the Universal Self of that which created it. Since each thought is limited in space and time, the "self" of that thought comes to believe it is similarly limited.
This mistaken notion creates the sense of egoity – “I” and “not-I”. A desire arises for the continuation of "I", which, in turn creates loves and hates, fears and desires. What is favorable to the continued existence of "self" is called "good"; what is unfavorable is called "bad", and so on.
The refinement and redefinition of egoity is behind the process of evolution; it is the essential magnetism, the fundamental polarity from which all the forces of the world are derived.
When I was a boy, I used to wonder, “If God made the Universe, what did he make it out of?”
The answer is, he made it out of Consciousness. Or more accurately, he became it.
Western science does not deal with mental phenomena (ideas) or emotional phenomena (feelings). In the West, these are considered the realm of philosophy and psychology, rather than that of "pure science". This view is resolutely held in the face of the irrefutable fact that all creation -- human and otherwise -- clearly begins in the mind.
And, of course, science does not deal with consciousness, which can be defined as “pure awareness, independent of its content.” Scientists rely on -- indeed they could not exist without -- this attribute. But they don't study it. At times, philosophers have turned their attention to the subject of consciousness, but their discussion is muddled. They confuse consciousness with mind or the contents of mind: ideas and sensory phenomena. Of late, it has even become fashionable to seek an explanation for consciousness in organic chemistry or biology. These efforts are based on an ingrained and unexamined materialism, which results in what I call “cause-effect reversal”. These philosophers are like drunken men, wandering in a park, who wave their arms and think they have caused the wind.
“I think, therefore I am,” is exactly wrong. "I am, therefore I think", is closer to the truth (although I can also exist without thinking).
Awareness, or consciousness, is the primary and fundamental Fact of the Universe. Awareness is a mirror, that reflects whatever is held before it. Awareness without specific content can also be called Being. Awareness focused on itself is Self-Aware Being, which can also be called Self, as Self is nothing other than awareness of one’s own awareness or being.
The mistake Western philosophers make is in assuming consciousness is the effect of something else, when in reality it is the cause.
The great mystery of the universe is how the universe was (is) created. As I have suggested elsewhere, the universe is created first in intention. By that I mean, the intention within Consciousness to separate subject from object. In pure Self-Awareness, there is no separation. There is only Being. But, in the thought “creation”, the ideas, “creator” and “created” arise. Inherent in “created” is the idea of individuation. That which is “created” is separate both from the "creator" and everything else the creator has defined. Space and time are the “dimensions” of the created universe; individuation is the principle it comprises.
Within this scheme of subject and object, creator and created, another principle arises. To illustrate what it is, suppose you’re dreaming. In your dream, you’re in a bar talking baseball with a colleague from work. Your colleague (who happens to be a New Yorker) starts making disparaging remarks about your favorite team (which happens to be the Boston Red Sox). A heated argument ensues, and you wind up punching your colleague in the nose.
What does your colleague think about that?
He doesn’t think anything about it, does he? After all, he’s a dream colleague. He isn't real. He exists only in your consciousness. As the dreamer, you know all this this is true. But suppose you were to give your dream colleague the power of consciousness, do you suppose he would agree with you?
I have said that the first quality of consciousness is REFLECTIVITY; in other words, consciousness is like a mirror that reflects whatever it is focused upon.
As we have seen, the second quality of consciousness is PLASTICITY: its ability to assume any and every form.
A third attribute of consciousness, of which we, as individual parts of the creation, are both beneficiaries and -- for the most part -- unwitting victims, is its UBIQUITY. Consciousness permeates and comprises everything; it is all-in-all in the creation.
As God (or in other words, Eternal Self-Aware Consciousness) projects thoughts within the eternal mirror of Itself, each of those thoughts is also comprised of Itself, and is therefore conscious. But since each thought is apparently limited by it's nature (i.e., the character of its individuality) when that thought views its reflection in the mirror of Consciousness, it naturally assumes its “self” is the individual “self” of that thought and not the Universal Self of that which created it. Since each thought is limited in space and time, the "self" of that thought comes to believe it is similarly limited.
This mistaken notion creates the sense of egoity – “I” and “not-I”. A desire arises for the continuation of "I", which, in turn creates loves and hates, fears and desires. What is favorable to the continued existence of "self" is called "good"; what is unfavorable is called "bad", and so on.
The refinement and redefinition of egoity is behind the process of evolution; it is the essential magnetism, the fundamental polarity from which all the forces of the world are derived.
When I was a boy, I used to wonder, “If God made the Universe, what did he make it out of?”
The answer is, he made it out of Consciousness. Or more accurately, he became it.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
The Source of the World
What I am going to describe cannot be demonstrated, nor can it be deduced from the known world. It logically precedes the senses, and cannot be cognized by them. Therefore, it is not subject to what is called scientific proof. Nevertheless, what I will describe is true and can be experienced in a way I will describe in a minute.
That which is beyond creation I will call Spirit. Spirit is pure consciousness, independent of any specific content other than the awareness of its own infinite and eternal being. Though in our conscious mind, we cannot really grasp what that awareness is like, we can think about what it does NOT include. It does not include any sense of lack or want, because there is nothing extant that is not already included within it. There is no sense of desire for the same reason. There is no body, so there is no hunger or thirst, no pain or discomfort. Also, there is no fear of illness or injury because there is no body to be injured or harmed and nothing external that could possibly threaten or harm it. The existence of Spirit is eternal, and it is aware only of its eternal existence.
Think about that for a minute.
No hunger or thirst nor any fear of them, no aches or pains, no fear of illness or injury, no sense of lack or want, no fear of death, no need for anything. What would that feel like?
If you go deep into this thought, you will first experience a profound peace – a sense of completeness, wholeness and security. You will let go, and relax. If you go deeper still, into the certainty that this state of being is real, and that it actually applies to YOU, you will begin to experience a certain joy.
That joy is the third and final attribute of Spirit.
As Spirit is consciousness itself, it is instantly and eternally aware, not only of its own eternal conscious being, but also of the joy that flows from the comprehension of it. The awareness of possessing that joy (in addition to the awareness of knowledge, security and completeness) creates even more joy, of which Spirit, then, immediately becomes aware.
This awareness, in turn, creates more joy, and more awareness. And more joy. And more awareness. Awareness and joy, awareness and joy, awareness and joy -- these ever alternate (or vibrate) in Sprit.
Subject and object, subject and object, subject and object.
This is the initial division.
This is the source of the created world.
(To be continued.)
That which is beyond creation I will call Spirit. Spirit is pure consciousness, independent of any specific content other than the awareness of its own infinite and eternal being. Though in our conscious mind, we cannot really grasp what that awareness is like, we can think about what it does NOT include. It does not include any sense of lack or want, because there is nothing extant that is not already included within it. There is no sense of desire for the same reason. There is no body, so there is no hunger or thirst, no pain or discomfort. Also, there is no fear of illness or injury because there is no body to be injured or harmed and nothing external that could possibly threaten or harm it. The existence of Spirit is eternal, and it is aware only of its eternal existence.
Think about that for a minute.
No hunger or thirst nor any fear of them, no aches or pains, no fear of illness or injury, no sense of lack or want, no fear of death, no need for anything. What would that feel like?
If you go deep into this thought, you will first experience a profound peace – a sense of completeness, wholeness and security. You will let go, and relax. If you go deeper still, into the certainty that this state of being is real, and that it actually applies to YOU, you will begin to experience a certain joy.
That joy is the third and final attribute of Spirit.
As Spirit is consciousness itself, it is instantly and eternally aware, not only of its own eternal conscious being, but also of the joy that flows from the comprehension of it. The awareness of possessing that joy (in addition to the awareness of knowledge, security and completeness) creates even more joy, of which Spirit, then, immediately becomes aware.
This awareness, in turn, creates more joy, and more awareness. And more joy. And more awareness. Awareness and joy, awareness and joy, awareness and joy -- these ever alternate (or vibrate) in Sprit.
Subject and object, subject and object, subject and object.
This is the initial division.
This is the source of the created world.
(To be continued.)
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
God of Creation
The most universal conception of God is that He (or She or It) is what created the universe.
Unfortunately, if there is a God, He (or She or It) cannot be perceived. Since the five senses are all parts of the created world, God would have created them, along with all the qualities they perceive. The Creator would contain and lie beyond EVERY quality; therefore, NO quality could be said to define or describe Him (or Her or It).
That includes the qualities measured by scientific instruments.
Therefore, the existence of God cannot be scientifically proved. Or disproved.
God is not just impossible to describe, He (or She or It) is difficult to discuss. Not just our senses, but our very language, and the concepts it seeks to express, are parts of creation. Words cannot describe That which created and logically transcends them. Nouns cannot refer to It. Adjectives cannot describe It. Even pronouns are a problem. Take the first sentence of this paragraph. Is God a He, a She or an It? Each denotes a sex. But the Creator of sex necessarily transcends sex, so even simple pronouns are misleading.
Indeed, the only logical way to approach the subject of God through the intellect is by pointing out what God is not. This is the path of discrimination followed by the ancients.
So let us see what we can throw out.
To save time, let's start with the basics. According to modern physics, the fundamental components of the known universe are matter, energy, space and time (or, if you like, matter-energy and space-time), but as we'll see in a minute, these are nothing but ideas – and murky ones, at that, with circular definitions that dissolve on close inspection.
Take matter, for example. Matter is generally defined as “the substance of which physical objects are composed.” The term substance is defined as “the essence of an object without which it would not exist.” In philosophical terms, we would call this, its “Being”.. The existence of substance cannot be proved. It rests on the theory that an object is distinct from the properties it manifests. This notion appeals to common sense, but in reality, it is an article of faith. There is no way the reality of substance or Being can be proved.
In physics, the two key properties of an object are its mass – conceived as the “quantity of matter in an object” and its energy – conceived as the actual or potential velocity of an object (sometimes expressed as the amount of “work” it can do). Velocity is defined as a change in the position of an object in space over a period of time.
Mass is measured in terms of an object’s resistance to acceleration. Velocity may be viewed as the result of an object’s capitulation to acceleration. According to the special theory of relativity, there is an equivalence of mass and energy. As the velocity of an object approaches the velocity of light, its mass also increases. If an object could reach the velocity of light, its mass would become infinite and time would stop.
That this is true is obvious. If an object had infinite mass, by definition it would contain all the matter (substance, being) in the universe, and if this were true, space would disappear and the very concept of velocity, or motion in space through time, would become meaningless. In other words, we would have arrived at a point beyond creation.
Space and time constitute the fabric of creation. Whether they are understood as realities, or as conceptual dimensions, the created universe could not exist without them.
In its essence, space represents the idea of division. If there were only one thing in the universe, space would have no meaning and could not be measured.
Time represents the idea of change. If there were no change in the universe, time would have no meaning, and could not be measured.
Space has no meaning and cannot be measured without individuation. Time has no meaning and cannot be measured without change. Space and time represent dimensions of the created universe. Without them, there could be no created world and nothing to describe. With them we enter the world of forces and motions, particles and waves.
What logically precedes space is indivisible Substance or Being. What logically precedes time is changelessness of Being. And one other thing.
For there is another element of creation that science largely ignores. That element is Awareness. Awareness (we can also call it Consciousness) is the quality of observation, the mirror in which the created universe is reflected. Without Consciousness, there would be no subject, no observer to measure, describe, or define physical phenomena. Within creation, this power of awareness or observation is divided, as Substance or Being is divided by individuation in space and time. Preceding Creation, there can be no such division -- only undifferentiated, indivisible Consciousness.
So these items, taken together – indivisible Conscious Being – describe a God preceding creation.
While nothing more can be deduced logically from an examination of the system.
That does not mean, however, that there is nothing else that can be experienced or said.
HWS
Unfortunately, if there is a God, He (or She or It) cannot be perceived. Since the five senses are all parts of the created world, God would have created them, along with all the qualities they perceive. The Creator would contain and lie beyond EVERY quality; therefore, NO quality could be said to define or describe Him (or Her or It).
That includes the qualities measured by scientific instruments.
Therefore, the existence of God cannot be scientifically proved. Or disproved.
God is not just impossible to describe, He (or She or It) is difficult to discuss. Not just our senses, but our very language, and the concepts it seeks to express, are parts of creation. Words cannot describe That which created and logically transcends them. Nouns cannot refer to It. Adjectives cannot describe It. Even pronouns are a problem. Take the first sentence of this paragraph. Is God a He, a She or an It? Each denotes a sex. But the Creator of sex necessarily transcends sex, so even simple pronouns are misleading.
Indeed, the only logical way to approach the subject of God through the intellect is by pointing out what God is not. This is the path of discrimination followed by the ancients.
So let us see what we can throw out.
To save time, let's start with the basics. According to modern physics, the fundamental components of the known universe are matter, energy, space and time (or, if you like, matter-energy and space-time), but as we'll see in a minute, these are nothing but ideas – and murky ones, at that, with circular definitions that dissolve on close inspection.
Take matter, for example. Matter is generally defined as “the substance of which physical objects are composed.” The term substance is defined as “the essence of an object without which it would not exist.” In philosophical terms, we would call this, its “Being”.. The existence of substance cannot be proved. It rests on the theory that an object is distinct from the properties it manifests. This notion appeals to common sense, but in reality, it is an article of faith. There is no way the reality of substance or Being can be proved.
In physics, the two key properties of an object are its mass – conceived as the “quantity of matter in an object” and its energy – conceived as the actual or potential velocity of an object (sometimes expressed as the amount of “work” it can do). Velocity is defined as a change in the position of an object in space over a period of time.
Mass is measured in terms of an object’s resistance to acceleration. Velocity may be viewed as the result of an object’s capitulation to acceleration. According to the special theory of relativity, there is an equivalence of mass and energy. As the velocity of an object approaches the velocity of light, its mass also increases. If an object could reach the velocity of light, its mass would become infinite and time would stop.
That this is true is obvious. If an object had infinite mass, by definition it would contain all the matter (substance, being) in the universe, and if this were true, space would disappear and the very concept of velocity, or motion in space through time, would become meaningless. In other words, we would have arrived at a point beyond creation.
Space and time constitute the fabric of creation. Whether they are understood as realities, or as conceptual dimensions, the created universe could not exist without them.
In its essence, space represents the idea of division. If there were only one thing in the universe, space would have no meaning and could not be measured.
Time represents the idea of change. If there were no change in the universe, time would have no meaning, and could not be measured.
Space has no meaning and cannot be measured without individuation. Time has no meaning and cannot be measured without change. Space and time represent dimensions of the created universe. Without them, there could be no created world and nothing to describe. With them we enter the world of forces and motions, particles and waves.
What logically precedes space is indivisible Substance or Being. What logically precedes time is changelessness of Being. And one other thing.
For there is another element of creation that science largely ignores. That element is Awareness. Awareness (we can also call it Consciousness) is the quality of observation, the mirror in which the created universe is reflected. Without Consciousness, there would be no subject, no observer to measure, describe, or define physical phenomena. Within creation, this power of awareness or observation is divided, as Substance or Being is divided by individuation in space and time. Preceding Creation, there can be no such division -- only undifferentiated, indivisible Consciousness.
So these items, taken together – indivisible Conscious Being – describe a God preceding creation.
While nothing more can be deduced logically from an examination of the system.
That does not mean, however, that there is nothing else that can be experienced or said.
HWS
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Money
In the created universe, the law of cause and effect governs all things. Whether in the realm of the physical, the psychological, the economic, or the political, actions have consequences. The laws of creation don't require our belief for their operation. What goes up, comes down. It comes down whether we believe it will or not. It is affected neither by our charm, our ingenuity or the depth of our self-deception.
In human affairs, cause and effect operate as reciprocity. You give me a Christmas card; I give you one. I lend you twenty; you pay me back -- and if you don't, you're unlikely to see another twenty. Saints may turn the other cheek, but in the realm of egoity (you and me; us and them) we all keep careful score.
What goes around comes around. Actions bring reactions. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Part of becoming an adult is accepting the inevitability of all this. Sure, there are folks who try to game the system, get something for nothing. They play the lotto, go to Las Vegas, kite checks, take things and forget to pay for them. These people think they can beat the house, but in the long run, the house cannot be beaten. Sooner or later, these people lose. There isn’t anything uncertain about it. It’s built right into the system.
We live in a complex society. What started out as simple barter has become an intricate web of international multiparty transactions. Somewhere along the line, money was created to denominate the relative value of the things we exchange -- our time, our effort, our resources. Money permits me to exchange my time selling advice in California for a barrel of oil pumped out of the ground in Canada, a bale of cotton spun into a bolt of cloth in India, a television set assembled in China, or a pair of shoes cobbled in Brazil. If I don’t need these things right away, money lets me hold onto (“save”) the value of the work I’ve done until I do need them. And it even lets me pledge the value of work I haven’t done yet. I can buy something now (“borrow”), and promise to pay for it later -- assuming I’m willing to pay a little extra for the convenience.
The monetary system today is incredibly complicated – so complicated, in fact, that almost no one understands it. But as complicated as it is, the system is still subject to the law of cause and effect: reciprocity. If I give something up, I want it back. And if I have to wait, I want something extra.
As the term is used today, “money” no longer represents an interest in precious metal --silver, gold –- or anything else. A twenty dollar Federal Reserve note entitles me to receive another twenty dollar Federal Reserve note, nothing more. The dollar (and the euro and the yen) are all “fiat currencies”, meaning they exist solely by fiat of the governments that issued them. Their "values" represent nothing more than ideas – numerical indices of what we owe, and what we are owed. The continued existence of this system relies on nothing more nor less than the assumption by each participant that the other participants will continue to honor the system. In other words, it relies on an assumption of stability. If that assumption goes, the system goes with it.
The value of a fiat currency ultimately depends on the supply and the demand for it. Over time, the demand for a currency rises (and falls) with the overall output of goods and services in the economy that uses it. The supply of a currency is determined by the government that issues it. If the amount of a currency is kept more or less in line with the output of goods and services in an economy, the value of the currency remains more or less stable. If the amount of currency grows faster than the economic output of the economy – as for example, if a government is printing money to fund expenditures for wars, retirement benefits, social programs or anything else that is out of line with the government's receipts – the supply of the currency winds up increasing faster than economic output, and that currency declines in value. When this happens, the people holding the currency experience what is known as “inflation”.
Thus, inflation represents a collective attempt by the people in a society to live beyond their means -- to borrow money they have no way of repaying. When this happens, other nations may be willing to provide goods and services in exchange for the debtor nation's currency for awhile, but that willingness will decrease over time. As it does, the debtor nation's currency will decline in value. Since the currency is inherently worth nothing more than the paper it's written on, there is essentially no limit to how far its value can fall.
The world is based on reciprocity. Countries, as well as individuals, are subject to the law. There are those who try to game the system, of course. Ultimately, these countries lose. There isn’t anything uncertain about it. It’s built right into the system.
In human affairs, cause and effect operate as reciprocity. You give me a Christmas card; I give you one. I lend you twenty; you pay me back -- and if you don't, you're unlikely to see another twenty. Saints may turn the other cheek, but in the realm of egoity (you and me; us and them) we all keep careful score.
What goes around comes around. Actions bring reactions. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Part of becoming an adult is accepting the inevitability of all this. Sure, there are folks who try to game the system, get something for nothing. They play the lotto, go to Las Vegas, kite checks, take things and forget to pay for them. These people think they can beat the house, but in the long run, the house cannot be beaten. Sooner or later, these people lose. There isn’t anything uncertain about it. It’s built right into the system.
We live in a complex society. What started out as simple barter has become an intricate web of international multiparty transactions. Somewhere along the line, money was created to denominate the relative value of the things we exchange -- our time, our effort, our resources. Money permits me to exchange my time selling advice in California for a barrel of oil pumped out of the ground in Canada, a bale of cotton spun into a bolt of cloth in India, a television set assembled in China, or a pair of shoes cobbled in Brazil. If I don’t need these things right away, money lets me hold onto (“save”) the value of the work I’ve done until I do need them. And it even lets me pledge the value of work I haven’t done yet. I can buy something now (“borrow”), and promise to pay for it later -- assuming I’m willing to pay a little extra for the convenience.
The monetary system today is incredibly complicated – so complicated, in fact, that almost no one understands it. But as complicated as it is, the system is still subject to the law of cause and effect: reciprocity. If I give something up, I want it back. And if I have to wait, I want something extra.
As the term is used today, “money” no longer represents an interest in precious metal --silver, gold –- or anything else. A twenty dollar Federal Reserve note entitles me to receive another twenty dollar Federal Reserve note, nothing more. The dollar (and the euro and the yen) are all “fiat currencies”, meaning they exist solely by fiat of the governments that issued them. Their "values" represent nothing more than ideas – numerical indices of what we owe, and what we are owed. The continued existence of this system relies on nothing more nor less than the assumption by each participant that the other participants will continue to honor the system. In other words, it relies on an assumption of stability. If that assumption goes, the system goes with it.
The value of a fiat currency ultimately depends on the supply and the demand for it. Over time, the demand for a currency rises (and falls) with the overall output of goods and services in the economy that uses it. The supply of a currency is determined by the government that issues it. If the amount of a currency is kept more or less in line with the output of goods and services in an economy, the value of the currency remains more or less stable. If the amount of currency grows faster than the economic output of the economy – as for example, if a government is printing money to fund expenditures for wars, retirement benefits, social programs or anything else that is out of line with the government's receipts – the supply of the currency winds up increasing faster than economic output, and that currency declines in value. When this happens, the people holding the currency experience what is known as “inflation”.
Thus, inflation represents a collective attempt by the people in a society to live beyond their means -- to borrow money they have no way of repaying. When this happens, other nations may be willing to provide goods and services in exchange for the debtor nation's currency for awhile, but that willingness will decrease over time. As it does, the debtor nation's currency will decline in value. Since the currency is inherently worth nothing more than the paper it's written on, there is essentially no limit to how far its value can fall.
The world is based on reciprocity. Countries, as well as individuals, are subject to the law. There are those who try to game the system, of course. Ultimately, these countries lose. There isn’t anything uncertain about it. It’s built right into the system.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Gehenna?
Though most Christians tend to forget it, Jesus was a Jew and so were most of the people he was teaching.
In the time of Jesus, the Jews believed that a Messiah (Mašíah) would be coming on earth to judge the wicked and restore righteousness.
It was part of the Jewish tradition that the prophet, Elijah, would return to earth before the Messiah to prepare the way. “Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord.” (Malachi 4:5) So, when people began to wonder whether Jesus was the Messiah, the question also came up, if Jesus is the Messiah, who's Elijah?
It was in this context that Jesus told his disciples that Elijah had already come, and he was John the Baptist. “For this is he, of whom it is written, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee. … and if ye will receive it, this is Elias, which was for to come.” (Matthew 11:10, 13-14)
Most of us have heard all this before, of course, but consider for a minute what it means.
It means that Jesus and his disciples all expected and believed that someone who had died hundreds of years before could come back on earth in a new body.
In other words, they believed in reincarnation.
Or take Jesus’ conversation with his disciples on the way to Caesarea Philippi. Jesus asks them, “Who do people say I am?” And they say “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” (Mark 8: 27-30). This conversation is incomprehensible unless the disciples all believed in reincarnation.
So let’s assume for the moment that Jesus and the disciples believed in reincarnation.
That doctrine, as commonly taught, includes the notion that rebirth works in furtherance of the law of cause and effect as applied to human actions. In other words, the things that happen to us in this life are a result of what we did before.
That the disciples of Christ believed this is suggested by the episode recounted in John, Chapter 9, where Jesus heals a blind man on the Sabbath. “And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?” In other words, the disciples clearly believed a man who had been blind since birth could have brought the situation upon himself by sinning before.
To those who believe in reincarnation, the “judgment” one receives at the end of life comes not by way of a permanent assignment to heaven or hell, but through rebirth in relatively favorable or unfavorable circumstances. Certainly this isn’t what most people who call themselves Christian believe. They believe that those who receive Jesus Christ will ascend to everlasting life, and everyone else will be condemned to burn in hell forever.
But did Jesus ever say that?
Actually, Jesus never used the word “hell” at all. In fact, that concept didn't exist in Jewish theology at the time. The word Jesus used that is translated in the Gospels as "hell" is “Gehenna”.
Gehenna is derived from “Ge Hinnom”, which meant literally, “Valley of Hinnom”. This valley is an actual place outside the south wall of the ancient city of Jerusalem, stretching from the foot of Mountain Zion eastward to the Kidron Valley. It is mentioned a number of times in the Old Testament, and has extremely unsavory associations. Jeremiah refers to it as the site where “high places” were built to Baal, and children were burned in sacrifice to the pagan god, Molech. (Jeremiah 32:35). After King Josiah forbid these practices, the area was turned into a dump where refuse was burned, and that’s what it was in Jesus’s day: a garbage dump.
Jesus uses the word, Gehenna, eleven times, mostly to describe the consequences of improper actions (See, e.g. Matthew 5:22, 29, 30; 10:28, 18:9, 23:15, 33c; Mark 9:43,45; Luke 12:5.) Without going through all these references, it’s fair to say that virtually none of them requires or even suggests Jesus meant anything other than “a gully where idols were once worshiped in barbaric fashion and where garbage (including the dead bodies of criminals) are now burned.”
Jesus wasn't a fan of this world. He warns his disciples, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal.” (Matthew 6:9-20).
He made it plain, “My kingdom is not of this world.” (John 18: 36). When the Pharisees asked him when the kingdom of God would come, he answered: “The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17: 20-21)
So if this isn’t the kingdom of God, what is it?
* * *
The story goes that a woman once asked the great yogi, Paramahansa Yogananda, whether he believed in hell or not.
He hesitated a moment, then looked at the woman quizzically and said, “But Madam, where do you think you are?”
Maybe Gehenna?
In the time of Jesus, the Jews believed that a Messiah (Mašíah) would be coming on earth to judge the wicked and restore righteousness.
It was part of the Jewish tradition that the prophet, Elijah, would return to earth before the Messiah to prepare the way. “Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord.” (Malachi 4:5) So, when people began to wonder whether Jesus was the Messiah, the question also came up, if Jesus is the Messiah, who's Elijah?
It was in this context that Jesus told his disciples that Elijah had already come, and he was John the Baptist. “For this is he, of whom it is written, Behold, I send my messenger before thy face, which shall prepare thy way before thee. … and if ye will receive it, this is Elias, which was for to come.” (Matthew 11:10, 13-14)
Most of us have heard all this before, of course, but consider for a minute what it means.
It means that Jesus and his disciples all expected and believed that someone who had died hundreds of years before could come back on earth in a new body.
In other words, they believed in reincarnation.
Or take Jesus’ conversation with his disciples on the way to Caesarea Philippi. Jesus asks them, “Who do people say I am?” And they say “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” (Mark 8: 27-30). This conversation is incomprehensible unless the disciples all believed in reincarnation.
So let’s assume for the moment that Jesus and the disciples believed in reincarnation.
That doctrine, as commonly taught, includes the notion that rebirth works in furtherance of the law of cause and effect as applied to human actions. In other words, the things that happen to us in this life are a result of what we did before.
That the disciples of Christ believed this is suggested by the episode recounted in John, Chapter 9, where Jesus heals a blind man on the Sabbath. “And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?” In other words, the disciples clearly believed a man who had been blind since birth could have brought the situation upon himself by sinning before.
To those who believe in reincarnation, the “judgment” one receives at the end of life comes not by way of a permanent assignment to heaven or hell, but through rebirth in relatively favorable or unfavorable circumstances. Certainly this isn’t what most people who call themselves Christian believe. They believe that those who receive Jesus Christ will ascend to everlasting life, and everyone else will be condemned to burn in hell forever.
But did Jesus ever say that?
Actually, Jesus never used the word “hell” at all. In fact, that concept didn't exist in Jewish theology at the time. The word Jesus used that is translated in the Gospels as "hell" is “Gehenna”.
Gehenna is derived from “Ge Hinnom”, which meant literally, “Valley of Hinnom”. This valley is an actual place outside the south wall of the ancient city of Jerusalem, stretching from the foot of Mountain Zion eastward to the Kidron Valley. It is mentioned a number of times in the Old Testament, and has extremely unsavory associations. Jeremiah refers to it as the site where “high places” were built to Baal, and children were burned in sacrifice to the pagan god, Molech. (Jeremiah 32:35). After King Josiah forbid these practices, the area was turned into a dump where refuse was burned, and that’s what it was in Jesus’s day: a garbage dump.
Jesus uses the word, Gehenna, eleven times, mostly to describe the consequences of improper actions (See, e.g. Matthew 5:22, 29, 30; 10:28, 18:9, 23:15, 33c; Mark 9:43,45; Luke 12:5.) Without going through all these references, it’s fair to say that virtually none of them requires or even suggests Jesus meant anything other than “a gully where idols were once worshiped in barbaric fashion and where garbage (including the dead bodies of criminals) are now burned.”
Jesus wasn't a fan of this world. He warns his disciples, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal.” (Matthew 6:9-20).
He made it plain, “My kingdom is not of this world.” (John 18: 36). When the Pharisees asked him when the kingdom of God would come, he answered: “The kingdom of God cometh not with observation: Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” (Luke 17: 20-21)
So if this isn’t the kingdom of God, what is it?
* * *
The story goes that a woman once asked the great yogi, Paramahansa Yogananda, whether he believed in hell or not.
He hesitated a moment, then looked at the woman quizzically and said, “But Madam, where do you think you are?”
Maybe Gehenna?
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Mother
The first metaphor is Mother. Birth is the second.
We come into the world helpless, but we do not come alone. We come into the womb of the mother. In that womb we are complete and happy, without need or want, cares or concerns, problems or troubles. We are perfectly nurtured, protected, and provided for. Our troubles begin with the awareness of the separate existence of self, which begins with the birth of the body.
You may not think you remember, but see if this doesn’t ring a bell for you.
Darkness, silence and peace. Then –
Brilliant, glaring light (the operating room). Eyes unable to focus. Objects and colors moving in a hazy field of view. Sounds that are too loud, human sounds, people moving, voices. Objects hard and painful to the touch. The space beyond, cold and forbidding. Then –
Searing, burning pain that begins in the back of the throat and races down the throat and into the lungs (the first breath). Then, even worse, the gasping, grasping need to repeat the excruciating process again … and again … and again.
Familiar?
The womb represents our undifferentiated existence in universal consciousness (God). Birth is the creation of our individuality – which from the individual perspective, is initially involuntary. The experience of physical birth provides us in each life with a sense of comparison between the attractiveness of the inner and outer worlds. The starkest reminder is the first breath – that gasping, grasping need to continue our separate existence, in spite of the excruciating pain that necessarily accompanies it. It is the breath that ends our comfortable, undifferentiated life in the womb, and begins our tumultuous earthly existence. We are so attached to the existence of this world that it is almost impossible for the average person to appreciate its limitations. Accidents, illness, old age and death confront us all, but generally cause us to cling all the more tightly to the world. Yet in a subtle way, we are reminded each night of the limitations our existence here. For no matter how captivating and involving the activities of the day, we willingly give them up each night so we can return to the inner world of undifferentiated consciousness.
Though we arrive here helpless, as I have said, we are born into relationship, and our first relationship is with the mother. Mother represents in the paradigm the perfect nurturing and care-giving nature of God. In pregnancy, she plays the role unconsciously, giving protection and sustenance from her body. With the birth of the child, the role becomes conscious – though still somewhat instinctive. The helplessness of the child brings forth nurturing in the mother, for the welfare of the child is essential to the survival of the species. As the child grows older, it does not want to be helpless any more; it wants to be independent, self-reliant and strong. So the child pushes the mother away. But the mother understands the child’s need for independence and ultimately lets the child go off to learn the lessons of the world and, if all goes well, to return as an adult with a mature understanding, so that in the end there can be an exchange of love by free choice, beyond the realm of instinct.
That is the metaphor of the perfect mother, which is the soul’s relationship with the Motherhood of God. This Motherhood is real – it is a creation of the universal consciousness, as real (or unreal) as the ideas of us all. Each one of us is born in the womb of this Mother, and our lives here on this earth are helpless before the Lord. No matter how intelligent or accomplished or powerful we may be, we cannot determine the outcome of our actions. No matter how carefully we plan, we may fail. No matter how hard we train, we may lose. And there will come a time for each one of us when we will fall victim to sickness, old age and death, no matter how faithfully we exercise, how healthfully we eat, or how many vitamins we use. If we acknowledge our undeniable position before God, we automatically bring forth God’s mercy, for mercy is the nature of God as the Mother. But if we insist on playing the part of independence, if we push God away, then the Mother withdraws, allowing us to go out in the world to “make it on our own” – which, as we will discover, is impossible.
To the baby, the mother is everything. But on this earth not all mothers are perfect. In this world, the mother may not be interested in the child, or she may feel angry or trapped, or unfulfilled. If the mother is selfish, uncaring or cruel, if the mother withdraws, the child comes to believe it is unworthy of love. This feeling may be directed inwardly as depression or outwardly as anger. Lacking faith in the fairness of the universe – and in ones’ own self – there may be a tendency to self-destruction, or there may be a compulsive need to demonstrate outwardly one’s mastery and control. Both of these represent an inability to trust and let go. One may embrace materialism or nihilism, secular humanism or totalitarianism, skepticism or fundamentalism, but in none of these comfort be found. For nothing can substitute for surrender to the love of the Mother.
If a child is born to an uncaring mother, it is because the child has itself been uncaring. Human action is by no means exempt from the law of cause and effect, and the cycle of birth and death is how the system functions. We appear in this world as infants, apparently pure, blank slates, but each experience that is written on the slate of our lives is mathematically determined by our own past actions. In each experience we are given a choice: to blame (the world, and thus ourselves), which will condemn us to remain what we were before, or to forgive (the world, and thus ourselves) allowing us to grow in understanding, and to become emotionally mature.
It is only in the costume of flesh that we can play the game of separate existence on the circus stage of the world. And it is only by learning to play our part perfectly that we can join the eternal audience of angels or, if we so choose, graduate to the role of writer or director in a world of our own making.
We come into the world helpless, but we do not come alone. We come into the womb of the mother. In that womb we are complete and happy, without need or want, cares or concerns, problems or troubles. We are perfectly nurtured, protected, and provided for. Our troubles begin with the awareness of the separate existence of self, which begins with the birth of the body.
You may not think you remember, but see if this doesn’t ring a bell for you.
Darkness, silence and peace. Then –
Brilliant, glaring light (the operating room). Eyes unable to focus. Objects and colors moving in a hazy field of view. Sounds that are too loud, human sounds, people moving, voices. Objects hard and painful to the touch. The space beyond, cold and forbidding. Then –
Searing, burning pain that begins in the back of the throat and races down the throat and into the lungs (the first breath). Then, even worse, the gasping, grasping need to repeat the excruciating process again … and again … and again.
Familiar?
The womb represents our undifferentiated existence in universal consciousness (God). Birth is the creation of our individuality – which from the individual perspective, is initially involuntary. The experience of physical birth provides us in each life with a sense of comparison between the attractiveness of the inner and outer worlds. The starkest reminder is the first breath – that gasping, grasping need to continue our separate existence, in spite of the excruciating pain that necessarily accompanies it. It is the breath that ends our comfortable, undifferentiated life in the womb, and begins our tumultuous earthly existence. We are so attached to the existence of this world that it is almost impossible for the average person to appreciate its limitations. Accidents, illness, old age and death confront us all, but generally cause us to cling all the more tightly to the world. Yet in a subtle way, we are reminded each night of the limitations our existence here. For no matter how captivating and involving the activities of the day, we willingly give them up each night so we can return to the inner world of undifferentiated consciousness.
Though we arrive here helpless, as I have said, we are born into relationship, and our first relationship is with the mother. Mother represents in the paradigm the perfect nurturing and care-giving nature of God. In pregnancy, she plays the role unconsciously, giving protection and sustenance from her body. With the birth of the child, the role becomes conscious – though still somewhat instinctive. The helplessness of the child brings forth nurturing in the mother, for the welfare of the child is essential to the survival of the species. As the child grows older, it does not want to be helpless any more; it wants to be independent, self-reliant and strong. So the child pushes the mother away. But the mother understands the child’s need for independence and ultimately lets the child go off to learn the lessons of the world and, if all goes well, to return as an adult with a mature understanding, so that in the end there can be an exchange of love by free choice, beyond the realm of instinct.
That is the metaphor of the perfect mother, which is the soul’s relationship with the Motherhood of God. This Motherhood is real – it is a creation of the universal consciousness, as real (or unreal) as the ideas of us all. Each one of us is born in the womb of this Mother, and our lives here on this earth are helpless before the Lord. No matter how intelligent or accomplished or powerful we may be, we cannot determine the outcome of our actions. No matter how carefully we plan, we may fail. No matter how hard we train, we may lose. And there will come a time for each one of us when we will fall victim to sickness, old age and death, no matter how faithfully we exercise, how healthfully we eat, or how many vitamins we use. If we acknowledge our undeniable position before God, we automatically bring forth God’s mercy, for mercy is the nature of God as the Mother. But if we insist on playing the part of independence, if we push God away, then the Mother withdraws, allowing us to go out in the world to “make it on our own” – which, as we will discover, is impossible.
To the baby, the mother is everything. But on this earth not all mothers are perfect. In this world, the mother may not be interested in the child, or she may feel angry or trapped, or unfulfilled. If the mother is selfish, uncaring or cruel, if the mother withdraws, the child comes to believe it is unworthy of love. This feeling may be directed inwardly as depression or outwardly as anger. Lacking faith in the fairness of the universe – and in ones’ own self – there may be a tendency to self-destruction, or there may be a compulsive need to demonstrate outwardly one’s mastery and control. Both of these represent an inability to trust and let go. One may embrace materialism or nihilism, secular humanism or totalitarianism, skepticism or fundamentalism, but in none of these comfort be found. For nothing can substitute for surrender to the love of the Mother.
If a child is born to an uncaring mother, it is because the child has itself been uncaring. Human action is by no means exempt from the law of cause and effect, and the cycle of birth and death is how the system functions. We appear in this world as infants, apparently pure, blank slates, but each experience that is written on the slate of our lives is mathematically determined by our own past actions. In each experience we are given a choice: to blame (the world, and thus ourselves), which will condemn us to remain what we were before, or to forgive (the world, and thus ourselves) allowing us to grow in understanding, and to become emotionally mature.
It is only in the costume of flesh that we can play the game of separate existence on the circus stage of the world. And it is only by learning to play our part perfectly that we can join the eternal audience of angels or, if we so choose, graduate to the role of writer or director in a world of our own making.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Point of View
The world is a metaphor. You, me, our bodies, our world ... everything is metaphor. By this I mean that everything is capable of being seen at a higher level -- as pattern, as concept, as pure idea. And that "seeing" is the purpose of our experience here, the purpose of our existence, our relationships, our world. When we realize this, when we begin looking for the metaphor, the game begins. Until then, we are living by instinct -- drifting in a dream, groping toward pleasure, recoiling from pain, moving in circles through the same monotonous set of experiences, again and again and again. When we begin to seek meaning, when we look within, there is the possibility of something else.
So the game -- and make no mistake, this is a game we're playing -- is to perceive a series of metaphors. Each time we figure one out, and move beyond our emotional reaction to it, we change, we grow, we get unstuck. And we move on.
So the game -- and make no mistake, this is a game we're playing -- is to perceive a series of metaphors. Each time we figure one out, and move beyond our emotional reaction to it, we change, we grow, we get unstuck. And we move on.
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