From Exclusivism to Convergence Part 1

By James M. Somerville

John Hick, a noted British philosopher of religion, estimates that 95 percent of the people of the world owe their religious affiliation to an accident of birth. The faith of the vast majority of believers depends upon where they were born and when. Those born in Saudi Arabia will almost certainly be Moslems, and those born and raised in India will for the most part be Hindus. Nevertheless, the religion of millions of people can sometimes change abruptly in the face of major political and social upheavals. In the middle of the sixth century ce, virtually all the people of the Near East and Northern Africa, including Turkey, Syria, Iraq, and Egypt were Christian. By the end of the following century, the people in these lands were largely Moslem, as a result of the militant spread of Islam.

The Situation Today

Barring military conquest, conversion to a faith other than that of one's birth is rare. Some Jews, Moslems, and Hindus do convert to Christianity, but not often. Similarly, it is not common for Christians to become Moslems or Jews. Most people are satisfied that their own faith is the true one or at least good enough to satisfy their religious and emotional needs. Had St. Augustine or St. Thomas Aquinas been born in Mecca at the start of the present century, the chances are that they would not have been Christians but loyal followers of the prophet Mohammed.

Realizing how dependent on circumstances one's religious commitment is, many well-informed Christians today are inclined to be relativists. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why mainline churches are suffering a loss of membership or at least a diminution of active participation. University-trained churchgoers tend to be less enthusiastic about their faith than were their predecessors. They distrust the ancient scriptures, created by men with little knowledge of science and cosmology or the size and age of the universe, reflecting an archaic worldview that does not speak to our contemporary concerns and understanding. What we are witnessing, then, is a shift in the composition of church membership. The evangelical and fundamentalist communities are growing while the mainline churches are losing members.

Where have the dropouts gone? Some, nowhere at all. They have simply given up on religion. Others have taken up Eastern meditative practices, which they find more rewarding than the verbal prayer they were accustomed to in their mother churches although they may still regard themselves as Christians or Jews. Some in the Jewish community call themselves a "Ju-Bu." They are Jews by birth and upbringing who have studied Buddhism and find it a useful supplement to their own Jewish faith and practice. It is also not uncommon today to find a Hindu ashram headed by a swami or guru who is not an Indian but an American or a European.

The invasion of the East represents a reversal of what Christian missionaries had in mind in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when they went to Asia and Africa to convert the infidel, though with no great success in Asia. Now purveyors of the Asian religions have come to the West and are enjoying a notable success, not so much in making converts as in convincing Americans and Europeans that Western religions are not the only spiritual paths of worth.

Proselytism and Responses to Diversity

When people in one part of the world want to make their faith palatable to those elsewhere, they often make an attempt at acculturation. Nonessential elements of the faith that would be distinctly foreign to others are suppressed, and the religion is made to look more like what the natives are accustomed to. So recently Christian missionaries in Asia and Africa have adapted their practice to the expectations and preferences of the people they have chosen to live with. In the same way, practitioners of Eastern religions try to modify their systems so they will not seem too bizarre to Westerners.

With or without adaptation, however, the aim of the zealous missionary is to make converts. As might be expected, that aim does not sit well with the natives. India does not welcome Catholic and Evangelical missionaries who have come to India with the intention of winning souls away from Hinduism or any of the other Indian religions. Russia has recently limited the stay of European and American missionaries to three months. The Russian Orthodox Church, which is gradually recovering from seventy-five years of persecution under an atheistic regime, is not at all pleased with the arrival of foreigners bent on luring Russians away from Orthodoxy to embrace some other form of Christianity. People are very sensitive about their traditional religion. Intruders are not welcome.

Churches are instinctively conservative. Catholics used to hold that a person who abandons his childhood faith, even to join another Christian denomination, has committed a grave sin. Orthodox Jews often deal severely with those who marry non-Jews, especially Christians. One response is to hold a symbolic funeral service for "the departed" and exclude the offenders from all contact with their family until they return to the fold. Author Salmon Rushdie has learned to his sorrow that any criticism of things dear to Moslems can result in a death sentence with a reward for his execution. Some Hindus maintain that those who leave India for the West to make their fortune and never return are disloyal to the Vedic tradition. Thus religions have a way of exerting moral pressure and imposing penalties on those who fail to conform.

Given the fact that the largest religions have gone their separate ways and are not likely to merge, it is clear that there is never likely to be a single world religion. Consequently the adherents of every religion are faced with the necessity of deciding how to think about other faiths. Scholars in religious studies, such as John Hick, Paul Knitter, John E. Cobb, Jr., and Raimon Panikkar, have distinguished three differing approaches to the existence of many religions in the world. These approaches are often called "exclusivism," "inclusivism," and "pluralism." To them I would add a fourth---"convergence."

Exclusivism

In the face of the diversity of religions, those in the exclusivist camp maintain that there is only one true religion, their own, and that all the others are in error to a greater or lesser degree. Many feel an obligation to work diligently to convert those in error for their own good and bring them to a knowledge of the truth. Hence, making converts is often a major concern of religious fundamentalists. After all, St. Peter declared, when he was arraigned before the Temple authorities some days after Pentecost: "There is salvation in no one else [other than Jesus], for there is no other name given among mortals by which we must be saved" (Acts 4.12). Those who hold this view are not likely to devote much time and effort to learning about the many false religions. Since they are all false, why should anyone want to cram their heads with a knowledge of things that are not true? Doing so might even lead to a temptation to abandon one's own true faith or to the weakening of faith by an exposure to error.

Until quite recently, Catholics were not supposed to read works on the Index of Forbidden Books. Even professional educators were expected to obtain special permission if they felt the need to read them. The Index was meant to warn the unsuspecting that certain ideas were in conflict with the authentic teaching of the Catholic faith, a conflict they might not be fully aware of unless they were alerted to the danger. The effect of the ban on books---the Church had given up burning them---was to situate the Catholic Church squarely on the side of exclusivism.

The mentality of the nineteenth and the first half of the twentieth centuries was that there is no sustainable religious truth outside the teaching of the Church, and the only reason scholars should bother to study the works of forbidden authors was to refute them. Sometimes, however, such opposition can turn out to be counterproductive. Origen, the third-century theologian and scholar, wrote an entire treatise attacking the writings of Celsus. But Origen was honest enough to report the words of Celsus with reasonable accuracy, thus immortalizing Celsus and his thought for generations to come.

Needless to say, Catholics have not been the only ones to maintain that they alone are right, that all others are wrong, and that error has no rights. Luther is well known for the raw language he used in anathematizing the Pope of Rome, other Protestant reformers, and, in his later years, the Jews. Ask any zealous Moslem and he will assure you that Islam has superseded both Judaism and Christianity as the true religion. Even within Judaism, the ultraorthodox are hard pressed to recognize as true Jews those who espouse the ordination of women and engage in ecumenical efforts which might seem to relativize God's teaching or the Torah.

Doctrinal absolutism and exclusivism are characteristic of the three Abrahamic religions, though they all also have their liberal and moderate wings. Because of that internal diversity, it is inaccurate and quite unfair to propagate a stereotypical view of any of those religions, including Islam. Only a minority of Moslems support terrorism, while the vast majority are peace-loving and prayerful people, more prayerful, in fact, than most Christians on a day-to-day basis.

The more one learns about a second or third faith other than one's own, the greater is one's appreciation of them. And nothing helps one gain a deeper understanding of one's own religion than travel abroad, coupled with the broadening effect of reading about the teaching and practice of other religions, even those that are themselves exclusivist.

Inclusivism

Troubled by the fact that, after nearly two thousand years, some 80 percent of the people on earth are not Christian, some Catholic theologians began to feel that they had to deal with the question of the salvation of so many nonbelievers outside the true Church. What of the old axiom, Extra ecclesiam nulla salus—Outside the church there is no salvation?

As long ago as the Council of Trent (1545--1563), it was suggested that people who lead moral lives but have no knowledge of the saving grace of Christ can be saved by a "baptism of desire." This is not the ordinary means of salvation intended by God, but for people ignorant of Christianity yet who have good intentions, a baptism of desire can substitute for the baptism of water and provide access to salvation. Those who are saved by this extraordinary means still owe their good fortune to the mercy of God and the grace of Christ purchased by his death on the cross. Although the concept of baptism of desire thus retains the belief that there can be no salvation without Christ, it goes a step beyond exclusivism in seeking a way to include non-Christians on the path to salvation. A more contemporary version is Karl Rahner's concept of "the anonymous Christian," a righteous non-Christian who, without knowing it, lives a life in accord with the basic moral principles of the Christian faith.

In spite of such efforts, the basic premise of inclusivism may seem condescending, only a disguised form of exclusivism. That is true if inclusivism means that Christians have nothing to learn from non-Christians. If, on the other hand, what is meant is that the Christ principle is everywhere present and active in the world, whether as Logos or as Divine Wisdom, inclusivism is not so condescending. Then, while it would be true to say that the Christ was in Jesus, it would also be true to say that Jesus was in the Christ, implying that the Christ is broader than the Jewish idea of the Messiah, viewed as a particular individual. The Christ would then be seen as everywhere present and active, that is, as the Wisdom of God in which the great teachers of humanity have all participated. Then we might ask with Raimon Panikkar, "Whose Christ is he?"

Christians have a share in the divine revelation, but so too have others. May not these others have certain aspects of revelation not found explicitly and immediately in the Christian deposit of faith? In that case, while it would be true to say that Christianity provides its adherents with adequate means for salvation, that fact should not deny that other religions are "equal opportunity" sharers in leading their members to salvation. Panikkar might agree with this in principle but would probably want to add a cautionary note, "not quite so equal." In other words, this is not yet what is known as pluralism, the recognition that distinctively different religious traditions are paths to God and are worth preserving.


James M. Somerville taught philosophy for many years at Fordham University, where he was chair of the department and co-founder of the journal International Philosophical Quarterly. He is Professor Emeritus of Philosophy from Xavier University in Cincinnati and a Quest Book author (contributing to The Goddess Re-Awakening, 1989). His most recent book is The Mystical Sense of the Gospels (Crossroad, 1997).


Explorations: A Miracle of Nothingness

By Clarence R. Pedersen

Theosophical Society - Clarence Pedersen is currently the president of the Theosophical Book Gift Institute. He is the former Publications Manager for the Theosophical Publishing House and in the 1970s served six years on the Board of Directors of the American Section.Tell me please--what do I do when all the games have been played? When all the songs have been sung? When all the books have been written and all the books have been read? What do I do when I have done all this and I have done all that? When dialogue becomes monologue and the monologue slowly disappears into the mists of the Great Silence? What do I do if the omnipresent "why" of existence does not answer my question?

Am I empty then? Or is it that "my cup runneth over"? Or what? And why?

Is there perhaps an informed but unformed reality that lingers a fraction of a micromoment beyond my consciousness? Perhaps a reality that needs expression as it clamors silently for validation? Surely it needs substance.

No! Not so! It needs nothing! I--I am the one doing the needing, the longing, the aching. Reality is my rock. And I am comforted by my belief that, in spite of its nothingness, it is there. But of course this is only a belief. It is not an experience. Still I smile in inner contentment and gratitude when I believe that I feel its touch; when I feel its blessing.

But define it for me, please. What is this whose touch I cannot return? With whom I cannot discuss? And thus I can easily refute it. Yet I cannot refuse it. Whether I call it a dream, or a fantasy, or a moment of wishful thinking—still I cannot refuse it. Why is this? What is this I cannot refuse? Except when it interferes with my daily tasks or pleasures--my outreach to the world. (I am endlessly busy reaching.)

Yet even then I don't refuse it. I am simply unaware of it. It passes me by like a comet in a distant galaxy. Not noticeable. It is beyond my Umwelt--my capacity of awareness. I am oblivious to it.

It cannot be proven. Nor can it be denied. It is as enigmatic as eternity. As senseless as spacelessness. It is nonsense.

And so I leave it in the closet of my consciousness—with the door tightly closed—in pure darkness (where the light is brightest). And every now and then, in a rare unbusied moment, I glance surreptitiously at my closet door, wondering, "Could this be where my answer is hiding? And if so--why?"

But I have misplaced the key, and there is nobody to help me find it. But then perhaps there is nothing to find. A miracle of nothingness. Who knows?

One day, when my mind was empty, I discovered to my surprise that the closet door was never locked, and so I peeked inside and was engulfed with total tenderness. And it was really, really hard not to smile. And feel blessed.

It all fades away quickly of course. Fades from my enquiring and acquiring mind. My mind--the inquisitor.

I ask myself, "Will it return? This powerful, all knowing nothingness?" But that's the wrong question. It never went anyplace. How can it return? Go! Open the door again!


Clarence Pedersen is currently the president of the Theosophical Book Gift Institute. He is the former Publications Manager for the Theosophical Publishing House and in the 1970s served six years on the Board of Directors of the American Section.


Legends of the Grail: The Chivalric Vision

Originally printed in the November - December 2003 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Ralls, Karen. "Legends of the Grail: The Chivalric Vision." Quest  91.6 (NOVEMBER - DECEMBER 2003):210-215.

By Karen Ralls

Theosophical Society - Karen Ralls, Ph. D., FSA Scot., is an Oxford based medieval historian and Celtic scholar. She was Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Edinburgh and Deputy Curator of the Rosslyn Chapel museum exhibition. She lectures worldwide and is author of The Quest for the Celtic Key, Music and the Celtic Otherworld and Indigenous Religious Music. This excerpt is from her latest book The Templars and the Grail (Quest Books, 2003).The Grail and the quest for it have gripped the Western imagination possibly more than any other legendary tradition. It "is the embodiment of a dream, an idea of such universal application that it appears in a hundred different places . . . Yet, although its history, both inner and outer, can for the most part be traced, it remains elusive, a spark of light glimpsed at the end of a tunnel, or a reflection half-seen in a swiftly-passed mirror" (Williams, Elements 1). Though usually thought of as a medieval theme, it is very much alive today like the memory of the Knights Templar, which also continues to hold our fascination. Both the Grail legends and the Templar mythos have resonated through the centuries. And despite the lack of concrete historical evidence, people have tried to link the two in various ways even believing that the Templars had the Grail.

Like the Ark of the Covenant, the Grail is presented as profoundly mysterious. It can be dangerous, even deadly, to certain people with good reason, tradition says. Some people see the Grail, but others don't. To those who do, it often appears surrounded by brilliant light, sometimes carried by a beautiful maiden, in other accounts moving by itself in midair. In the end, it may be not an object at all but a spiritual treasure—the truth and love of God.

The era of the Grail Romances

Despite the enormous antiquity of the Grail material, it did not appear in literary form by and large until the Grail romances of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Given the complexities of medieval dating, scholars cannot always determine the precise date for a manuscript; they can say, however, that many Grail romances were written between 1190 and 1240—within the Templar Order's era. Many were authored by monks, in particular, Cistercians and Benedictines. These two Orders, though associated in some ways, were distinct from each other as well as from the Templar Order. There is no historical evidence that a Templar wrote a Grail romance, although some romances have Templar-related themes and details.

The years 1190-1240 fall during the High Middle Ages, one of the great experimental and creative epochs in European history. This period saw not only the writing of the Grail romances and the rise and fall of the Templar Order but also—among other things—construction of the High Gothic cathedrals, the peak of the cult of chivalry, a tremendous upsurge in pilgrimage, the great popularity of the Black Madonna shrines, the troubadours and the Courts of Love, and the rise of certain Hermetic and alchemical themes after a period of dormancy in the West. This cluster of cultural phenomena, expressing the spirit of the times, was contemporaneous with such political and social developments as the Crusades, the signing of the Magna Carta, the time of the Cathars, and the growth of the famed universities of Paris, Oxford, and Bologna—and the lives of such figures as Henry II, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Richard the Lionheart, and St. Francis. Historians note that the quest for knowledge and the arts during this time was nothing short of phenomenal. It was an era of extraordinary flowering.

The notion of a single Grail story is a common present-day misconception. There is no such thing.The Grail romances are many and varied and often do not agree with each other. One could say there is a general, prototypical Grail story, but even that must be an amalgamation of themes, people, and places from different manuscripts. Another popular misconception is that the Knights Templar are the same as the Arthurian knights of the Round Table. This is not the case.

Remarkably, however, the first Grail romance, like many of the first Templar knights, came from the area around Troyes, Champagne.

With both subjects—the Templars and the Grail legends—Troyes seems to figure prominently.

Chrétien de Troyes and Robert de Boron

One of the earliest known instances of the Grail motif in writing is Le Conte du Graal,written by Chrétien de Troyes in 1190, just a few decades after the Templar Order's founding.Chrétien's main character, Perceval, is a guileless knight, the archetypal Fool, whose primary trait is innocence. He sees the Grail during a feast at "a mysterious castle presided over by a lame man called the Fisher King . . . Chrétien calls the object simply 'un graal,' and its appearance is just one of the unusual events which take place during the feast . . . at this time, Perceval is also shown a broken sword which must be mended. The two objects together, sword and grail, are symbols of Perceval's development as a true knight" (Wood, The Holy Grail 171).

Unfortunately, Chrétien died before he could finish his story, so other writers attempted to complete it. These versions, called the Continuations, embellish the tale and bring in other Grail themes, such as the Grail floating on a platter in midair, the bleeding lance, the broken sword, and the curious theme of the Chapel of the Black Hand, where a mysterious hand continuously snuffs out the candles. As more Continuations were written, other details—such as the magic chess board, the spear, the cup, and the Precious Blood—were added, and Perceval has even more challenging adventures. In one Continuation, a lady at the Chapel of the Black Hand offers Perceval a white stag's head and a dog, which he loses and must find again before he can return to the Grail castle. Once a certain broken sword is mended, Perceval "as grail ruler heals the land. After seven years he retires to a hermitage, and when he dies, the grail, lance and dish go with him"(Wood 171).

Burgundian poet Robert de Boron wrote two Grail romances, Joseph d'Arimathie and Merlin—his most famous works—sometime between 1191 and 1200. Walter of Montbeliard, his patron—who, like Chrétien's patron, was a crusader—commissioned de Boron to write both. De Boron gives a definitively Christian tenor to his Grail story, presenting the knights' quest as a spiritual search rather than the usual courtly adventure undertaken for a lady's love or the king's honor. In Joseph d'Arimathie, which scholars now believe may have been written in Cyprus, Pilate gives the cup used at both the Last Supper and the Crucifixion to Joseph of Arimathea. Joseph is later put in prison, where he has a vision:

Christ brings the grail to Joseph in prison where it sustains him and teaches him its secrets.Joseph is freed by the emperor Vespasian who has been cured by Veronica's veil (another mysterious relic associated with Christ's passion) . . . Joseph establishes a second table of the grail, and Bron catches a fish which is placed on the table and separates the just from the unjust. The object is called the Holy Grail

Alain, the leader of Bron's twelve sons, goes to Britain to await the "third man" (Perceval?) who will be the permanent keeper of the grail (Wood 172).

Bron then becomes the Fisher King, and Joseph returns to Arimathea. Bron himself eventually goes to Britain, taking the Grail with him.

Early thirteenth-century prose versions of Robert de Boron's works link the Grail story more closely with Arthurian legend. Diu Krone, by Heinrich von dem Turlim, presents Sir Gawain as the hero, while the Cistercian Queste del Saint Graal features Galahad. In the latter, the quest for the Grail becomes a search for mystical union with God. Only Galahad can look directly into the Grail and behold the divine mysteries. The Queste presents Galahad as the son of Lancelot, thus contrasting chivalry inspired by divine love, as with Galahad, against that inspired by human love, as between Lancelot and Guinevere. This is the best-known version of the Grail story in the English-speaking world. It was the basis for Sir Thomas Malory's famous late-fifteenth-century prose work Le Morte d'Arthur—in turn, the story-line source for much of the film Excalibur and the musical Camelot.

The Many Forms of the Grail

Various Grail romances present the Grail as different objects: a cup or chalice, a relic of the Precious Blood of Christ, a cauldron of plenty, a silver platter, a stone from Heaven, a dish, a sword, a spear, a fish, a dove with a communion Host in its beak, a bleeding white lance, a secret Book or Gospel, manna from Heaven, a blinding light, a severed head, a table, and more. Indeed, a truth about the Grail is that it takes different forms. In Chrétien's Le Conte du Graal, the Grail is a platter bearing a single Eucharist wafer. Robert de Boron's account introduces the Grail as the chalice Jesus used at the Last Supper. In the Queste del Saint Graal it is the dish from which Jesus ate the Passover lamb, which now holds the Eucharist wafers. Wolfram von Eschenbach presents it as a luminous pure stone. The anonymously written Perlesvaus describes it as five different things. There is no single Grail story, and no single Grail—this point cannot be emphasized enough.

The Grail can manifest differently to each seeker. It can be an earthly object, which may or may not be endowed with sacrality; it may be the goal of a spiritual search. Ultimately, it remains a mystery."So the pointers to the Grail may only suggest a path to a beatific vision of its manifestations. Each finder discovers a unique insight into the divine . . . Through the control of the body and the refining of the spirit, an understanding of self might be followed by a revelation of the divine. To attain the ever-changing Grail is to search deep within and so reach out to a personal path to God" (Sinclair, Discovery of the Grail 124).

The Grail as a Stone

Wolfram clearly identifies the Grail in his account as a stone: "A stone of the purest kind . . . called lapsit exillas . . . There never was human so ill that if he one day sees the stone, he cannot die within the week that follows . . . and though he should see the stone for two hundred years [his appearance] will never change, save that perhaps his hair might turn grey" (Matthews, Elements 52-3). The term lapsit exillas can be translated as either "stone from Heaven" or "stone from exile"—which some scholars believe could mean a meteorite. Later in the story Wolfram says the Grail stone is an emerald that fell from Lucifer's crown during the war in Heaven; angels who took neither side in that war brought it to earth, where it remains.

The hermit Trevrizent tells Parzival that the Grail guardians, the Templeisen, living at the Grail castle exist by virtue of this stone alone. Some analysts believe this relates to the idea of manna, the special food from Heaven that sustained the ancient Israelites as they wandered in the desert. So also, the Grail knights receive their only nourishment from a divine source. They exist on its luminosity and holiness, and it sustains them physically, rewarding them, as Wolfram points out, with perpetual youth. It can also heal the sick.

When Parzival arrives at Trevrizent's hermitage, he seems unfamiliar with Christian customs.Trevrizent shows him the chapel and stresses that it happens to be Good Friday, so the altar has been stripped bare and no consecrated Host is left there. (The centuries-old custom in the Catholic Church was to "banish the Host" on Good Friday. Since the Vatican II Council, the Host is no longer banished but is removed to a darkened "altar of repose" until Easter morning.) Trevrizent says that on Good Friday at the Grail castle, a dove descends from Heaven and deposits a wafer on the lapsit exillas. This empowers the stone to provide continual nourishment for the Templeisen.

Various writers through the centuries have suggested that the Grail as a stone refers to the famed philosopher's stone, lapis elixir, mentioned in alchemical writings. French Celtic scholarJean Markale comments:

There is first of all an alchemical allusion, lapis exillis being quite close tolapis elixir, which is the term used by the Arabs to designate the Philosopher's Stone. Next the stone of the Grail guarded by angels irresistibly summons thoughts of the Ka'aba stone in Mecca . . . One is reminded in particular of the tradition that states that the Grail was carved into the form of a vessel from the gigantic emerald that fell from Lucifer's forehead . . . In addition, Wolfram's Grail/Stone bears a great resemblance to the Manichaean jewel, the Buddhist padma mani, the jewel found in the heart of the lotus that is the solar symbol of the Great Liberation and which can also be found in the Indian traditions concerning the Tree of Life (Markale, Grail 133-4).

Wolfram's stone could also derive from the legendary lapis exilii, the Stone of Death. Wolfram tells us that a phoenix sits on the luminous stone and is burned to ashes and reborn there—an echo of the alchemical theme of death and rebirth.

Templar-Related Elements in the Grail Romances

What kinds of connections exist among the Templars, the Grail, and the Grail romances? The historical record provides no evidence that a Templar wrote a Grail romance—or that the Templar Order ever possessed the Grail, though people through the centuries have been certain they did have it. We do know, however, that some of the romance authors' patrons were crusaders, though not necessarily Templars, and that these writers certainly knew of the Templars'achievements in the Holy Land. And a number of Templar-related themes and details appear in some Grail romances, ranging from symbolism to the portrayal of the perfect knight to important concepts of chivalry and chivalric behavior.

The Grail and Templar themes mingle the most closely in Wolfram's Parzival. Wolfram is the only Grail romance writer to intimate that his Grail guardians were Templar knights. The medieval German word for "Templars" was Tempelherren, but scholars generally acknowledge Wolfram intended his Templeisen to be viewed as Templars. Parzival's unique focus on the Templars may be partly because both Wolfram and his patron, Hermann I of Thuringia, were drawn to the East. In an earlier work, Willeham, Wolfram shows sympathetic interest in Muslim culture. Hermann I, a promoter of the knightly ideal, himself took up the cross and went on the German crusade of 1197-98. He was also fascinated by astrology, which was gaining popularity in twelfth-century European courts following the influx from Spain of Arabic texts in Latin translation (Nicholson, Love, War, and the Grail 108). Scholars believe Wolfram's Mount of Salvation—on which the Grail castle sits and where the Templeisen live—is a veiled allusion to Mount Sion in Jerusalem, since the original nine Templars lived on the Temple Mount. However, unlike the Templars, his Templeisen's shields bear a turtle dove—a symbol of peace, not holy war.

Wolfram portrays Parzival as related to the Arthurian line through his father and to the Grail family through his mother. Wolfram's Grail family is not the courtly society of Arthurian legend but a divinely chosen vehicle in world affairs, comprising the Templeisen and others whom the Grail silently selects to carry on its tradition. Women are included in the Grail family. Although Wolfram mentions a Grail succession, he also says the Grail lineage derived from it is a secret only the angels know. Certain people are assigned, by God through the Grail, to guard the Grail for posterity, thereby reuniting humanity with God, that is, "restoring the wasteland."

The early-thirteenth-century Old French Arthurian romance Perlesvaus, known also as The High Book of the Grail, was authored by a cleric with Benedictine connections (Bryant). In this tale, the Grail castle sits in both the earthly and the heavenly Jerusalem—an idea with obvious Templar connotations. Perlesvaus (Perceval), is a knight of Christ, though not explicitly a Templar. He travels overseas to an island where he visits the Castle of the Four Horns. Here he encounters thirty-three men in white robes with red crosses on their chests, like the medieval Templars' dress. His own shield displays a red cross with a gold border around it, similar but not identical to the historical Templars' shield. Perlesvaus stresses throughout the idea of holy war against the infidel—clearly mirroring the Crusades, in which the Templars played a starring role. It relates Arthur and his knights' efforts to impose by force the New Law of Christianity in place of the Old Law. Atypically for a Grail romance, Arthur's knights are portrayed collectively as a kingdom, not as individuals on their own quests. This resembles the Templar Order's underlying ethos, where the group's intention is more important than an individual's personal quest.

The Queste del Saint Graal, written by a Cistercian monk in 1215 for another crusader patron, Jeande Nesle, makes numerous allusions to the Templars. The star of this romance is Galahad—here a descendant of King Solomon—who is devout, chaste, and destined from birth to achieve the Grail.Galahad isn't called a Templar; he is a secular knight. However, at a monastery of white brothers he receives a white shield with a red cross on it that once belonged to Joseph of Arimathea—perhaps because he is portrayed as a direct descendant of Joseph through his mother. The medieval Cistercians were called the White Monks, and the Templars' white mantle was marked with a red cross.

While in Perlesvaus the Grail castle is Jerusalem, in the Queste the Grail knights go to Jerusalem with the Grail, but only after they complete their quest. When Galahad, Perceval, and Bors reach the Grail castle, they encounter nine more knights who have achieved the Grail. One has to wonder if this is a veiled reference to the original nine Templars. All twelve knights then celebrate communion, and Christ himself is the priest—a reenactment of the Last Supper. Galahad, after eating the consecrated host administered by Christ, has a vision of himself as Christ crucified and dies in ecstasy before the altar. Grail scholar R. S. Loomis comments: "In this celestial liturgy Christ is the officiant as well as the victim . . . Presumably it is [the] well-established belief in the presence of angelic visitants at the celebration of the Eucharist and in the assumption of the priestly office by Christ Himself which has led to the introduction of these two features . . . [in the Queste's] reenactment of the Last Supper" (Loomis, The Grail 193-4).

The great Cistercian abbot St. Bernard in mystical states sometimes experienced himself as Christ crucified. In his famous Sermons on the Song of Songs he discusses extraordinary mystical experiences, some involving the mysteries of the consecrated Host, or Eucharist "bread." He refers to "Solomon's bread," an Israelite forerunner of the Christian Eucharist that often induced mystical experiences." Seeing oneself as Christ crucified, especially after ingesting the consecrated Host, was central to the Syriac Mystery of the Cross. Theologian Dan Merkur writes:

It is significant that Bernard began the very first of his Sermons with series of allusions to the Eucharist. Among them was a discussion of Solomon's bread . . . Bernard was privy to the mystery of manna. He knew of a bread that had had use as a mystical sacrament in the temple of Solomon. How did Bernard come by his knowledge of manna? A passage in the fifty-second Sermon tends to indicate that Bernard was familiar with internal controversies in the Syriac mystical tradition. By the late seventh century Syrian mystics had developed alternative techniques for the performance of the Mystery of the Cross (Merkur, The Mystery of Manna 106).

That Bernard knew of mystical experiences concerning the consecrated Host with roots going back to the time of Solomon's temple is amazing enough. Note too that the Queste's author was also a Cistercian; the Templars and Cistercians were closely connected, especially in France; and Bernard was active in both Orders. Clearly these links formed a web of associations. We know some Templars spent time in Syria; they may have learned about the Syriac Mystery of the Cross from fellow Christians there.

The figure of Galahad in the Queste underscores the secular ideal of Christian knighthood and chivalrous behavior. It is the nonmonastic Galahad—not a Templar—who is the successful Grail knight. He embodies the perfect Christian knight, perhaps even as the Templars conceived this. Yet he dies not in glory on a battlefield but in the Grail castle. Perhaps the Queste's Cistercian author is saying one can reach Christian chivalrous impeccability without joining a military religious Order. Or perhaps he is suggesting that a knight must seek salvation on his own, not as part of an enclosed community. Rather than fighting the enemies of Christ on the battlefield, the task is to slay one's own demons within and perfect one's character.

Bernard's teachings describe a person's progress toward spiritual perfection as a series of states of grace. The Queste, heavily influenced by Bernard's views, presents Galahad's quest for the Grail in similar terms. He is portrayed, as the Templars are portrayed, as striving for knightly perfection in word and deed. However, the mystery of the Grail is in fact found at another level of experience, as an ineffable inner knowing. Nearly all the romances agree on this. It is this aspect of the Grail that beckons many to their own spiritual journeys today.


Karen Ralls, Ph. D., FSA Scot., is an Oxford based medieval historian and Celtic scholar. She was Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Edinburgh and Deputy Curator of the Rosslyn Chapel museum exhibition. She lectures worldwide and is author of The Quest for the Celtic Key, Music and the Celtic Otherworld and Indigenous Religious Music. This excerpt is from her latest book The Templars and the Grail (Quest Books, 2003).




References

  • Loomis, R.S. The Grail: From Celtic Myth to Christian Symbol. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1963, 1991.
  • Markale, J. The Grail. Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions, 1999.
  • Matthews, J. Elements of the Grail Tradition. Shaftesbury, Dorset: Element, 1990.
  • Merkur, D. The Mystery of the Manna. Rochester, VT: Park Street Press, 2000.
  • Nicholson, H. 2001. Love, War, and the Grail: Templars, Hospitallers and Teutonic Knights in Medieval Epic and Romance 1150-1500. History of Warfare Series, vol. 4.
  • Sinclair, A. The Discovery of the Grail. London, England: Random House, 1998.
  • Wood, J. October 2000. The Holy Grail: From Romance Motif to Modern Genre. Folklore 3:171.

The Lord of the Rings and the Journey to the Heart of the Universe

Originally printed in the November - December  2002 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Vachet, Helene. "The Lord of the Rings and the Journey to the Heart of the Universe." Quest  90.5 (NOVEMBER - DECEMBER  2002):204-213.

By Helene Vachet

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
      Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,
      One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadow's lie.
      One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
      One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

—J. R. R. Tolkien

There is a road, steep and thorny, beset with perils of every kind, but yet a road, and it leads to the very heart of the Universe. I can tell you how to find those who will show you the secret gateway that opens inward only, and closes fast behind the neophyte forevermore. There is no danger that dauntless courage cannot conquer; there is no trial that spotless purity cannot pass through; there is no difficulty that strong intellect cannot surmount. For those who win onwards, there is reward past all telling—the power to bless and save humanity; for those who fail, there are other lives in which success may come.

—H. P. Blavatsky



EVERYONE HAS ACCESS to at least two worlds—the one in which we live and the one in which we dream and imagine. In fantasy literature, we can directly enter the world of dreams and find a place so real that we can learn and grow from our experience in it. Experiencing a great story can transport us directly into the inner recesses of the universe within ourselves, which we all share, and can open the door to the mysteries of that inner world. This transformational process can be seen especially in a reader's encounter with The Lord of the Rings, by J. R. R. Tolkien.

Written mainly between 1937 and 1949 (which places most of the writing during World War II), The Lord of the Rings did not become a best seller until the 1960s. Despite that late start, it can arguably be called the greatest work of fiction of the twentieth century. Its main themes—good versus evil, friendship, the importance of the individual, and reverence for nature—are as relevant today, during the current campaign against terrorism, as when the book was written. Every chapter has passages that students can interpret in various ways according to their religious and philosophical beliefs. Mary McNamara, a Los Angeles Times staff writer, said, "50 million copies of the trilogy and 40 million copies of its precursor, The Hobbit—have been sold in 35 languages, which puts the Tolkien oeuvre somewhere between the Bible, 'Mao's little Red Book' and that boy wizard [Harry Potter]." New Line Cinema has spent $300 million, hoping that their efforts to translate the story to the screen will produce the films of the century.

The Lord of the Rings is the story of "the fellowship of the ring," consisting of the wizard Gandalf the Gray, two men (Aragorn and Boromir) the elf Legolas, the dwarf Gimli, and four Hobbits (small people with great hearts Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo the "Ring Bearer"). The book follows the adventures of the fellowship as they set out to destroy the One Ring, the ultimate symbol of evil. If they do not succeed and the war to gain control of it is won by the Dark Lord, Sauron, life as it was known will end and the free people of Middle-earth will be enslaved.

To save Middle-earth, the One Ring—the Ruling Ring—fashioned ages ago by the Dark Lord,Sauron, must be destroyed by throwing it back into the Cracks of Doom, where it was originally forged. No one, not even a great wizard or warrior can wear the One Ring without being corrupted by its seductive powers. Frodo reluctantly volunteers to carry the ring to its destruction. Elrond, the immortal, bearer of the greatest of the Elven rings—Vilya, the Blue Ring—agrees that this quest is Frodo's destiny: "I think that this task is appointed for you, Frodo; and that if you do not find a way, no one will."

The great War of the Ring cannot be detailed here, but the encounters of some of the leading characters with the One Ring as they journey to the Cracks of Doom can be briefly treated. Because we, ourselves, have not yet destroyed the products of the One Ring—our desire for power, our greed, selfishness, pride, and lust—we can learn from the reactions of these characters as they encounter the Ring. The characters fall into two categories, like those in Blavatsky's passage above—"those who win onwards" and "those who fail," and there is also a shadow.

The Shadow

The shadow is a psychological manifestation of the occult and scientific concept of polarity. Ed Abdill, a Theosophical writer and speaker, says that all polarities derive from the initial polarization of the One, which results in the breaking of the primordial unity of all things to form the universe. From this act, come such polar opposites as space and substance, inner life and outer form, positive and negative, and good and evil. Without polarity, there would be no universe, no struggle, no contrast, no limitation, no growth, and no shadow.

One of Carl Jung's great insights, one that particularly resonates with The Lord of the Rings, was that the ego (our conscious sense of ourselves) and the shadow (the unconscious or repressed aspects of our personality) come from the same psychological source and that they exactly balance each other. To make light is to make shadow. One cannot exist without the other. This concept is critically important in understanding one's danger in joining a spiritual organization, in doing good deeds, and in following a spiritual path. The shadow also explains why so many converts are disillusioned when they join a spiritual organization. They want to make spiritual progress, and they ignore their shadows at their peril. In The Lord of the Rings, the truly wise are attentive to their shadows.

Maria Louise von Franz, the Jungian writer, identified the shadow with the entire unconscious,everything that is not known consciously. If we fail to acknowledge our shadows and pretend that we are more advanced than we are or if we fail to realize that we have unfinished karma waiting to surface and neglect to integrate our shadow, it will regress as time progresses. If the shadow becomes too powerful, it can take over the conscious personality. The Ruling Ring is utterly evil and acts as a triggering mechanism to unleash the shadow when anyone possesses it or desires it. That is the price one pays to access the Ring's power. To its wearer, the One Ring gives mastery over other living creatures, in proportion to the evolutionary stature of its owner.

Those Who Win Onwards

Frodo

The Hobbit Frodo has inherited his dwelling, his riches, and a magic ring from Bilbo Baggins, his uncle, who many years previously had gone on an adventure with the wizard Gandalf and twelve dwarves to regain the treasure taken by the dragon Smaug. During his adventure, Bilbo encountered a Hobbit like creature called Gollum, who had lost a magic ring that Bilbo had just found. The Fellowship of the Ring, the first book of the trilogy, begins with Bilbo's one-hundred and eleventh birthday party and the passing of that ring to Frodo.

The experience of the ring, which Frodo learns is in fact the One Ring, provides a catalyst that expands Frodo's consciousness so that he is able to transcend his own experience. Its power enables him to understand others, and the importance of his mission gives him the courage to proceed on his journey to destroy the Ring. However, the power of the Ring keeps Frodo so ensnared that he cannot relinquish it without assistance.

In Lothlórien, the idyllic land of the Elves, Frodo meets the Lady Galadriel, and, with his heightened awareness, he is able to perceive her Elven ring. Galadriel says:

It cannot be hidden from the ring-bearer, and one who has seen the eye. Verily it is in the land of Lórien upon the finger of Galadriel that one of the three remains. This is Nenya, the Ring of Adamant, I am its keeper. He [the Dark Lord] suspects, but he does not know—not yet. Do you not see wherefore your coming is to us as the footsteps of doom? For if you fail, then we are laid bare to the Enemy. Yet if you succeed, then our power is diminished, and Lothlórien will fade, and the tides of time will sweep it away. We must depart into the West, or dwindle to a rustic folk of dell and cave, slowly to forget and to be forgotten.

Although Frodo is not able to release the ring without help, his martyrdom in carrying it, and the increased understanding he displays particularly at the end when dealing with the corrupted Saruman and Wormtongue, earn his passage to the Undying Lands across the great sea. One can compare Frodo's hesitancy and timorous questions at the beginning of the quest, when he finds out that Sauron may be seeking the ring, to his growth at the end of the trilogy. At first he is distraught:

"But this is terrible!" cried Frodo "far worse than the worst that I imagined from your hints and warnings. O Gandalf, best of friends, what am I to do? For now I am really afraid. What am I to do? What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature [Gollum], when he had a chance!"

Near the end of the last book, Frodo responds to Saruman's failed attempt to kill him in a different way:

"No, Sam!" said Frodo. "Do not kill him even now. For he has not hurt me. And in any case, I do not wish him to be slain in this evil mood. He was great once, of a noble kind that we should not dare to raise our hands against. He is fallen, and his cure is beyond us: but I would still spare him, in the hope that he may find it."

Frodo, in his journey to the Cracks of Doom, that is, into matter, has passed beyond what life in his comfortable world of the Shire can teach him. He is ready for the next step in the evolutionary journey, like the Fool of the Tarot cards. The Fool carries a pouch, which can symbolize a bag of memories, the essence of all his past experience, carried forward from one incarnation to another. We must use spiritual sight as a means of unlocking the secrets of that pouch, not the ring of power made by Sauron; instead, we must look within to find the path to the heart of the universe.

Gandalf

The apotheosis of the Wizard Gandalf begins in The Fellowship of the Ring, the first book of the trilogy, and is a continuing theme. Near the beginning of the story, Frodo guilelessly offers the Ring to Gandalf, saying that bearing it is too great a task for him, but Gandalf refuses the Ring:

With that power I should have power too great and terrible. And over me the Ring would gain a power still greater and—more deadly. . . . Do not tempt me. I dare not take it, not even to keep it safe, unused. The wish to wield it would be too great for my strength.

Gandalf's insight reveals that he understands the nature and peril of the shadow. From his refusal to take the Ring, Gandalf gains the increased strength of will to resist and help break the power of Saruman, the Balrog, the Orcs, the Ringwraiths, and other evil beings in Middle-earth and to complete his task of heading the forces of good against Sauron, the Dark Lord. In the process, he transforms himself from Gandalf the Gray to Gandalf the White; and, in the end, earns the right to depart by sea to the Undying Lands. So the power to do good stems from our strength, which is the result of winning the battle against temptation—:in other words, facing and integrating our shadow.

Gandalf can be compared to the Tarot card of the Hermit. Its number is nine, which stands for completion or attainment, meaning that control has been established over the beast in us, our animal nature, symbolized in The Lord of the Rings by the Balrog. The Hermit carries a lantern, the light in which appears as two interlaced triangles, symbolizing human consciousness in contrast with Saruman's degeneration at Orthanc.

Galadriel

In the course of the great adventure, Frodo and the company of the Ring pass into Lothlórien, where Frodo offers the One Ring to the Elven Queen, Galadriel, after she shows him his future in her magic mirror. This episode is similar to Frodo's offer of the one Ring to Gandalf:

"You are wise and fearless and fair, Lady Galadriel. . . . I will give you the One Ring, if you ask for it. It is too great a matter for me."

". . . And now at last it comes. You will give me the Ring freely! In place of the Dark Lord you will set up a Queen. And I shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night. Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning! Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love me and despair! . . . I pass the test. . . . I will diminish and go into the West, and remain Galadriel."

In Tolkien's Unfinished Tales, Galadriel is described (before her arrival in Middle-earth) as having dreams of far lands and dominions that might be her own to order as she would without tutelage, but what saves her from being seduced by the Ring is her noble and generous spirit and her reverence for the Valar, the godlike beings of the Undying Lands. Also she has a marvelous gift of understanding and insight into the minds of others, and, unlike the Dark Lord, she uses her power with mercy and wisdom. Tolkien says that in reward for her service against Sauron and, above all, for her rejection of the temptation to take the ring when offered to her, her prayer is granted, and she is allowed to take a ship to the Undying Lands, a place suggestive of the after-death kingdom of Devachan. It almost seems that Frodo was meant to offer the one Ring to both Gandalf and Galadriel to give them the opportunity to face and integrate their shadows.

There is a connection between Galadriel and the Star card of the Tarot. The goddess depictedon it is pouring substance from a pitcher into a pool, reminiscent of the Mirror of Galadriel.Thus naked star woman, earth mother goddess, and Aquarian water-bearer is the same eternal Isis whose identity is kept secret from us by invisible veils of maya. However, she reveals herself voluntarily through greater insight into her workings to those who have proven their worthiness, like Frodo. This is evocative of what Joy Mills, a noted Theosophist, has said about Yoga. The practitioners of Yoga remove the veils that bar the profane from knowing, but the veils are there to force us to go through the process in order to raise our consciousness to the point of knowing.

Those Who Fail

Sauron

Sauron was one of the Maiar, an angelic being, comparable to Lucifer, the fallen Angel of depicted on-Christian tradition. Sauron, like Melkor, his teacher—an earlier personification of evil, did not sing to the same tune as Iluvator, the divine Creator of The Silmarillion, J. R. R. Tolkien's epic mythology of Middle-earth. Sauron's desire for individuality and power engulfed him in many schemes to gain the secrets of the Elves and to control others. His selfish desires closed his inner ear and kept him from hearing the beauty in Iluvator's song, which expresses the harmony of the world and the brotherhood of all beings.

In early times, Sauron's beauty of face and form masked his corruption, just as the wisdom of Gandalf and the beauty and intuition of Galadriel masked the potential for evil in their shadows. What saved them was their ability to look inward. Sauron deceives not only others but also himself. Eventually, his treachery and evil deeds completely corrupt his vision, and he is unable to retain and manifest the beauty of form that was characteristic of his kind, so he degenerates into a hideous creature with a yellow lidless eye. He becomes so obviously evil that he can no longer deceive anyone by his appearance. We can learn from Sauron's downfall to look within for a true inner vision of the universe and not be deceived by outward appearances, however compelling they may seem. His lidless eye is always looking for the Ruling Ring, outwardly, away from Mordor, because it was inconceivable to him that anyone would take the ring, unused, to the Cracks of Doom in Mordor in order to destroy it.

We also learn from Sauron that Tolkien's view of evil is cyclical, as is the Theosophical view of all life. H. P. Blavatsky in The Secret Doctrine (2:189) writes, "those glorious thinkers, the Occultists, trace cycle merging into cycle, containing and contained in an endless series." Gandalf says to Frodo, "always after a defeat and a respite, the Shadow takes another shape and grows again." Sauron is a shape that rose again from being the vanquished Necromancer of Mirkwood to becoming Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor.

There is a link between Sauron and the Tarot. Each card of the Major Arcana of the Tarot deck is related to a Hebrew letter. The name of the Hebrew letter ayin, which is associated with the card of the Devil, means "eye" and signifies "outward appearance." Sauron is depicted as a lidless yellow eye, ever moving and searching. The Devil has been called the "father of lies." In Jewels of the Wise (Holy Order of Mans, 1974), the unknown author writes, "The Devil, called 'father of lies,' is holding up his palm to full view, trying to tell you that what you see before you is all there is . . . in contrast to the Hierophant, who told you that there is always more than is seen or can be revealed." The Hierophant's message relates to intuition and inner hearing, keynotes of Gandalf and Galadriel.

Saruman

Saruman is head of a secret order, Wielders of the Flame of Anor. He is one of the Istari, the Order of Wizards, to which Gandalf also belongs. In the Unfinished Tales, Tolkien says the Istari have the ability to incarnate at will. Wizards were sent to Middle-earth by the Valor. They were not to rule others or overpower them with majesty of form, but rather, in the guise of humble, aged men, to advise and persuade humans and elves to be good and to unite in love and understanding. This sounds like the Great Brotherhood of Masters in esoteric tradition.

Saruman, also known in The Unfinished Tales as the White Messenger, who was skilled to uncover all secrets, fell from his high mission and became proud, impatient, and enamored of power. In fact, he became a rival to Sauron, the Dark Lord, and sought to overthrow him by gaining the One Ring, but instead was ensnared by that mightier dark spirit. In The Masters and the Path, C. W. Leadbeater says about the Path, "There is the possibility of falling back. . . . if there is the least tinge of pride in the man's nature, he is in serious risk of a fall."

There is a correlation between the Tarot card of the Tower and Saruman with his fortress of Orthanc. The tower can signify an attempt to build a link from earth to heaven instead of from heaven to earth. In other words, to build an earthly structure to a far-off God, instead of preparing the temple of our own vehicles, fit to hold the indwelling God already there. Another interpretation that fits this situation is the imprisonment of ourselves within the narrow strictures of our self-imposed beliefs instead of realizing that the bricks of our tower are composed of the clay of Adam and therefore vulnerable.

In Jewels of the Wise, the author also compares the Tower card to the athanor, the alchemical vessel in which the alchemist transmutes base metals into gold. The athanor is "a furnace used by the alchemists, in which a constant heat was maintained by means of a tower which provided a self-feeding supply of charcoal" (Oxford English Dictionary). In other words, in the athanor our base human natures are transformed into spiritual natures, unlike at Orthanc, where spiritual aspirations have given way to pride and baseness is encouraged. It is curious that athanor and Orthanc share the middle letters -than-.

The Hebrew letter peh, meaning "mouth," associated with the Tower card, is drawn like the letter kaph "closed hand," except that a small tongue has been added. It is as though peh gives utterance to that which was comprehended by kaph. Saruman had the power to enchant and ensnare others by his voice, and as he became corrupted, so was his message. It is fitting that his servant and messenger is called "Wormtongue."

Saruman, like Sauron, degenerated in proportion to his greatness. He was the head of the White Council, but his true metal soon became apparent to the bearers of the Elven rings. Cirdan, the shipwright at the Gray Havens, gave Gandalf, not Saruman, Nenya, the Red Ring; and Galadriel says that if her advice had been followed, Gandalf, not Saruman, would have been made head of the White Council. Therefore, to the discerning or intuitive, the seeds of evil or self-destruction can be perceived early. Saruman's downfall, like that of Sauron, the Dark Lord of similar name, was brought about through pride, contrasting with Gandalf's humility. His desire to be important caused him to settle at the fortress of Orthanc and to specialize in the study of the lore of the Ring.

Saruman's link to Sauron stems from his study of subjects similar to those of Sauron, and the final connection between them was a palantir, a seeing stone, by which the ancient race achieved telepathic communication. This linking of his mind with that of Sauron, who had the master palantir, completed the task of corruption. Éliphas Lévi wrote that the Astral Light (which H. P. Blavatsky said is used for telepathic communication) can be "a tempting Demon . . . and the inspirer of all our worst deeds." Saruman degenerated into Sharkey, a fallen wizard, who amused himself by causing as much destruction as possible in Hobbiton and by ordering his underling, Wormtongue, to resort to cannibalism.

According to Robert Johnson, a Jungian scholar, the shadow, when left alone, regresses to a primitive state. This regression would also apply to the collective shadow and explains hate crimes, serial murders, periodic wars, and terrorism. It also explains why certain larger than life figures, both in reality and fiction, emerge as princes of light and darkness who can grow into great heroes or degenerate into great or petty criminals. The regression of the shadow explains the degeneration of Saruman, Sauron, and Gollum.

Gollum

Gollum is enigmatic. In many ways, he is the most complex character in the whole work. He is a creature of conflicting desires of good and evil. Unlike Bilbo, Frodo's uncle, the Ring finder, who assumed ownership of the One Ring with pity and compassion, Gollum assumed his ownership by killing his friend Deagol and claimed it as his birthday present. The Ring immediately gained ascendancy over him. Yet, in spite of his evil deeds, Gollum saved Middle-earth. If he had not pursued Frodo, the quest would have failed. Why was Gollum like an agent of karma who was born and lived in a period that positioned him to assume this role? It seems that evil is a necessary part of the eternal equation. Would someone totally corrupted have been placed by the universe in such a position?

Gollum's role is foreshadowed from the beginning when Bilbo had difficulty parting with the Ringand later when Frodo's reluctance to show it to anyone who wanted to see it went further than mere caution to protect it. Gollum guided Frodo and Sam to Mordor on the treacherous path through Cirith Ungol, which was the only way that Frodo could enter Mordor undetected by Sauron. The selection of this path was dictated by Gollum's desire for Shelob, the great spider, to kill Frodo, from whose discarded body Gollum hoped to retrieve the Ring. But that evil desire does not negate the good that was achieved by Gollum's intervention at Mount Doom. There he bit off Frodo's finger to gain the ring, but he destroyed it as he fell with it to his death in the Cracks of Doom. Although Gollum failed in terms of personal redemption, surely his deed, however unplanned by him, generated enough good karma to insure a new existence in the eternal life cycle under better circumstances. Only the wise know.

There is a relationship between Gollum and the Tarot card of Death. Death can be considered a change or transformation from one state to another. Michael Stanton, professor of English literature at the University of Vermont, calls Gollum a classic case of split or dual personality, a doppelgänger. The split is between that aspect of the poor creature whose original name was Smeagol and who speaks of himself as "I" and the aspect of what he has become, called Gollum, who speaks of himself as "we." The "we" side of his personality is ensnared by the Ring; the "I" side is the reflection of an originally free being.

The transformation that Gollum brings about in Middle-earth is much greater than his personal psychological change. His act of biting off Frodo's finger brings an end to the reign of Sauron and the beginning of the new age of human beings. The symbol associated with the card of Death is the Hebrew letter Nun, meaning a "fish," coincidentally Gollum's main dietary staple. When Gollum finally leaves the caves where he was hiding from the sun, he finds his way into the forest of Mirkwood where he catches unwary prey and sucks their blood like a vampire—one of the undead.

Conclusion

In facing one's own shadow, one reaches a holy place. That is the reward. The once hidden nextstep in the journey is now possible. In The Wizard of Earthsea, by Ursula LeGuin, the boy wizard Ged finally faces the shadow that has been pursuing him and calls it by its name, which is his own,and he is then able to achieve his destiny—to become the Archmage of Earthsea. We must not, like the pair in Maeterlinck's play The Blue Bird, wander the earth in search of fulfillment when it is in our own backyard. What we avoid in our own life will provide the clue to our great battle—to recognize and name our shadow.

Without the challenge of the Dark Power, Frodo, Gandalf, and Galadriel would not have grown.We develop only by going against opposition and facing our shadow. All the characters who won"onwards" found their key to the path to the heart of the universe by looking inward, to the God within, which unlocks all mysteries. If we are successful, there will be no "dweller on the threshold" to confront at death. There will be no secrets of character yet to face. The only secret will be the next unknowable journey.

Cited books by J. R. R. Tolkien:

  • The Hobbit; or, There and Back Again. London: G. Allen and Unwin, 1937.

  • The Lord of the Rings. 3 vols. (The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers, The Return of the King). London: G. Allen and Unwin, 1954-55.

  • The Silmarillion. London: G. Allen and Unwin, 1977.

  • Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-earth, ed. Christopher Tolkien. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1980.


Helene Vachet, a retired educator who taught "Myths and Magic" in the Los Angeles School District, is a third-generation Theosophist and a past president of the Besant Lodge in Hollywood. She last appeared in the Quest in November-December 2001 with her article on "Harry Potter and the Perennial Quest."


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