Quest Magazine

By Michael Hurd

Originally printed in the MAY-JUNE 2005 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Hurd, Michael. "Near Eternal." Quest  93.3 (MAY-JUNE 2005):108-109

As one dreams, the mind appears as a vast warehouse; alive with much that is both familiar and alien to the dreamer. In dreams one may participate, interact, or even lose one's self within this boundless storehouse of memory, fantasy, and unknown terror. Oh, to discover the secrets of this hidden world, to awaken to its strange and unusual acquaintances, and to command the limitless behaviors committed within this vast and elaborate scheme.

Seeking to bridge the waking and sleeping realities, I sit and watch through hours of disciplined meditation; steadily hoping to find an answer within the pattern of my own thoughts.

Reassuringly, teacher insists that my answers will come, but until that time I am blind and deaf to the truth of my existence as an eternal being. To those with ears that listen, please hear my call. Please come to me during these endless moments of watching and waiting. If you cannot offer me what I seek, then at least stay with me through these times; that your presence may offer me some comfort, in knowing that I am not alone in my search.

Dryness in my eyes, a knot in my brow, back muscles aching, legs and buttocks fast asleep; teetering on the edge of absolute boredom and despair, I hear a whisper.

"Stop!"

Fear and a very deep attraction grip me into place. She has my full attention.

"Tonight, as you dream; tonight, it begins."

The encounter passes quickly, leaving me deeply shaken and yet, strangely intrigued. This mixture of fear with fascination, this unique commingling of apparent opposites, has brought me to an intensity of awareness beyond compare. Never before have I felt so very much alive, and yet completely powerless to govern my own fate. The arrival of this night shall force the dreaded moment. Tonight, I surrender to the unknown.

Night surrounds me. Wanting the sandman's presence, I undertake the course of a measured entry into sleep. Slow, steady breathing welcomes me into this hidden world, until the battle is won, and all is lost.

"Open your eyes."

My eyes opened, disappointed at finding little more than a shifting haze.

"Do you know where you are?"

"I'm not sure. I can't see anything."

"You linger upon the threshold. Every evening you come to this very place, and each night your fear keeps you from entering in. This period of indecision must end. Tonight, you must choose. Shall I loosen the sleep from your eyes?"

"Yes, no, wait! What will I see?"

"It's different for everyone. One's truth is one's own. No one else will see it in quite the same way."

"I'm thankful you've come to help, but I'm still so very afraid."

"You would not have come this far, nor would I have been sent, if you were not entirely prepared for this moment. Matters will be much clearer once your eyes have been opened. Shall I release the light of your awakening?"

"No, wait! I have so many questions."

"The purpose of your life's work is known to you. If you are to complete your task, you must choose to accept the truth of what you seek. The two realities can and will be reunited, but only with your cooperation. Accepting this, your life cannot continue in the same way. Surrendering to the truth will bring a clarity of thought and purpose previously unknown to you. Acceptance of the truth will also invoke an endless state of wakefulness. The truth finds little rest, and so shall you. Never again, to know the "bliss" of ignorance, you will be forever in the service of the Eternal. Shall I commit you to the reality of your greatest aspiration?"

"Wait! I want to know more."

"Is it truth you desire, or desire itself? Your moment of decision has arrived. Are you now ready to begin?"

My moment of decision arrives suddenly, not out of any wanting for the truth, but within a final moment of complete surrender. Beyond the limit of fear there is an expanse of thought where purpose and will unite, where all seems inevitable, in order. In that moment I simply allow the truth, allowed all, without reservation, hope or expectation, without "ends and means" or identification. The Truth is finally welcome.

Michael Hurd is a religious education teacher and facilitates teenagers to become more spiritually and religiously aware. He lives in Ontario, Canada with his family. 

VOLUME 93, NUMBER 3

Sandcastles
By Betty Bland

Two Paradoxes of Reality: A Revelation
By Jon L. Ross

The Four Stages of Religious Development
By James M. Somerville

Religion and the Quest for Personal Truth
By Clare Goldsberry

Near Eternal
By Michael Hurd

Longing: From Relationship to Religion . . . and Beyond
By William Elliott

The Believers
By Roderick Bradford

By Jon L. Ross

Originally printed in the MAY-JUNE 2005 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Ross, Jon L. "Two Paradoxes of Reality: A Revelation." Quest  93.3 (MAY-JUNE 2005):106-107

"The tree is me." I read this statement in a document years ago. My first reaction was: How could that be? The tree is over there and I am over here. We are completely separate and distinct from each other.

For several days, as I went about my daily routine, the phrase "The tree is me" would not leave my mind. Then one day while I was in the train station on my way to the office, a hand touched me on the right shoulder. I looked around—nobody was standing near me. Instantly, a peaceful feeling spread throughout my body. I was overcome with joy. I felt that this feeling must be similar to "the rapture" of which people speak—I truly believe that I was "touched by an angel."

As I walked out into the bright sunshine, I suddenly knew—yes, the tree is a part of me, a part of my concept of reality! The building across the street is also! The bridge spanning the river is in my reality! So is the person coming toward me, and the traffic coming and going! The entire world, as I perceive it and give meaning to it, constitutes my world—my conception of reality. The world is to me what I make it to be. During the remainder of my walk to work, I felt as if I were walking several inches above the sidewalk.

A paradox of reality is that what is real is at the same time not real; each and every one of us creates our own view of reality. Because we create it, it is a personal view of reality—our view that is different from a reality that already exists. Each of us customizes our own concept of what is real through our individual thoughts, emotions, beliefs, and subsequent actions. Our actions are shaped by our current and past perceptions and experiences. And most of us will spend our lives depicting and/or defending the "real world" we ourselves have invented or adopted. This is not a problem until we insist that the individualized world we perceive is the right or the true reality. This need to claim the contents of our self-created reality as the only right and true reality is the biggest hurdle we humans must overcome to live in harmony.

In my current view of reality (which changes with the acquisition of additional knowledge, experience, and understanding), a Supreme Entity consisting of unconditional Love (God) created the entire universe and everything in it. In the process, we humans evolved into thinking beings that can interpret the universe as we desire. In effect, I believe that every person living on the planet creates his or her own conception of reality. And amid all these individual views of reality there is another reality that we cannot know, do not know, or know only partially.

Another paradox of reality is that though our own personal view of reality affects all our relationships with others—either positively or negatively—it is at the same time a very powerful influence on our personal growth or decline.

In accepting that our reality is self-created, we realize that none of us knows how much of it is the "true reality." This being so, we can therefore create any reality we desire. Why not create a personal reality that brings peace and harmony to our life? We have total control over how we interpret the world we live in. We may not control how other people treat us and feel about us, but we do control how we perceive and respond to whatever life brings our way.

Since, your thoughts, beliefs, and actions determine your concept of what is real, the following are some things you can do to help change your reality and live the life you truly want to live.

Create a reality that gives you peace and comfort in lieu of fear and anger . Change your thoughts about why you turned out the way you did. Believe that your mother, father, guardian, or anyone who has caused you to feel pain and suffering (emotional or physical) did the best he or she could do within his or her understanding of what is real. You are not bound to your current view of reality. It can grow with you. It will change as your thoughts/beliefs change. Within your view of how things are lies the power you need to mold and shape the type of person you want to be.

Try not to project the problems in your life onto others. When you do, your anger or resentment will let the person whom you perceive as having caused your problem control a good portion of your thought processes, thereby prolonging the suffering. You are the captain of your ship. You have the power to decide when and where it will take you. That is not to say that life is easy or fair. But you can and should take responsibility for your perception of reality.

It absolutely matters what you believe. Do you know what you believe? What your concept of reality is? Think about it. Compile a list on paper if necessary. Begin your list with the words "I believe." When you are finished with the list of your beliefs, which is the foundation of your perceived reality, take ownership of this world you have created. Examine it—you don't need to be directly touched by an angel to examine your concept of reality. After reviewing your list, ask yourself: Is there another belief system, another reality that I can create that will give me more joy in life? If yes, then create it. How? Be open to the world around you. Keep revising your list of beliefs and live life enthusiastically.

Jon L. Ross received his M.A. in adult education from Northern Illinois University. Now retired, he lives in Glen Ellyn, Illinois. He has been a member of the Society for three years. This is his first contribution to Quest.

By James M. Somerville

Originally printed in the MAY-JUNE 2005 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Somerville, James M. "The Four Stages of Religious Development." Quest  93.3 (MAY-JUNE 2005):86-89

True open-mindedness is not a condition we are born with. Children assume that their parents' values and prejudices are the correct ones and that the way things are is the way they ought to be. In adolescence, we may begin to challenge the values and assumptions of our childhood and become open to other ways of thinking and acting. This attitude of receptiveness to new ideas develops in stages, and it can be spoken of as a kind of enlightenment.

Anyone on the road to enlightenment should be able to view objectively and sympathetically opinions quite different from what may be the sectarian absolutes accepted by his or her friends and relatives. In searching for a few words to characterize each of the four stages of religious development, I have settled upon the following: (1) the ecclesial or sectarian, (2) the retrospective or familial, (3) the transcendent, and (4) the nondual or advaitan. The ecclesial or sectarian adheres to the present, the way things are now and should forever be. The retrospective or familial looks to the past, to the anointed founder or flag bearer of one's faith. The transcendent goes beyond both the present of the ecclesial and the past of the retrospective to the eternal source of all being. Finally, the nondual transcends transcendence in the sense that it encompasses the present and past as well as the eternal in the realization that there is only one Reality in which we have our being. Enlightenment is the conviction that we, as free and intelligent agents, participate in the Source, that in some sense "We are That."

The Ecclesial Level

I take the ecclesial to stand for the religious or political establishment with some kind of constitution consisting of rules of behavior to be obeyed and doctrines or dogmas to be believed. People need some kind of shelter to come into out of the rain, and the ecclesial, or sectarian, level of commitment provides such a refuge, for lost souls are confused about life and its meaning. Others have never felt lost: they are convinced that by the grace of God they have embraced or been born into the one true religion or ideology without which no one can be safe. Adherents are instructed in exactly what their traditional scriptures mean and are warned of the serious consequences if they deviate from the norm. With this dogmatic approach, the unforgivable offense is to leave the denomination or reject any of its teachings. The apostate's punishments in the afterlife are beyond description. Thus, the strict ecclesial establishment incorporates powerful cultural inducements, to join the community and never leave it. In addition, members have an obligation to spread the word and convert others, to rescue those who have fallen away from the true faith and practice. This constitutes an ideal formula for the survival and propagation of the tradition.

Theologically, those with an ecclesial mentality'whether they are ultraorthodox Jews, Christians of the extreme right, or Muslim fundamentalists'incline toward selective scriptural literalism and religious exclusivism. In an open society, they tolerate nonconformists because they lack the power to suppress them, but in situations where they have complete control, they are not so lenient. Obviously, not all members of ecclesial establishments are so narrow-minded. For a truly enlightened person can learn from and be comfortable with a form of practice based on a particular tradition other than one's own'whether Christian, Jewish, or Hindu'without compromising one's primary commitment. For example, many Jews incorporate Buddhist practice in their lives.

The Retrospective Level

Most religious traditions look back to a charismatic leader or founder, one whose person and teaching the members of the ecclesia depend on for guidance and inspiration. Moses, Jesus, Muhammad, the Buddha, or one of the incarnations of Vishnu, such as Sri Ramakrishna, are the inspirational figures to whom sectarians have recourse when in doubt about what to believe or how to act. Not all sectarians interpret the doctrine of the original teacher in the same way. Jews subscribe to the Law of Moses, or the Torah, but not all agree on how much of the Pentateuch can actually be traced back to Moses. First-century Pharisees incorporated elements of an oral tradition into their teaching and practice, contrary to the belief of the Sadducees. Some Jews are exclusivists; others in the Renewal movement are ecumenically oriented and seek to work with and learn from other faiths. Islam is divided into two great sects, the Sunnis and the Shiites. Mahayana Buddhism as it developed in China and Japan differs considerably from the Hinayana Buddhism of south and Southeast Asia, especially regarding the extent to which the later scriptures are understood to reflect the actual words of Siddhartha Gautama. And, of course, Christianity is divided into three major sects, Catholicism, Protestantism, and Eastern Orthodoxy, with Protestantism embracing scores of different ways of interpreting the teaching of Jesus.

Whereas the ecclesial outlook concentrates on the now of the existing one true faith, the retrospective or familial looks to the past, to the founder and the sacred scriptures that preserve his teaching. However, there is no demonstrably right way to read the mind of the founder of an entire family of believers. At this stage, baptized Christians, while preferring one ecclesial position to the others, respect the values and commitment of Christians of different denominations'people who, like themselves, look back to Jesus. The same holds for Buddhists and Muslims with regard to their respective founders. While there may be rivalries and a history of disagreement between committed Muslims, for example, they are all members of the same religious family. Unfortunately, some of our fiercest enemies are often the family members who are closest to us, as the religious wars between different Christian denominations and rival Muslim sects sadly attest. Very often the enmities can be traced to outrages that took place many centuries ago. People love to cling to their sacred hatreds.

Admittedly, it can be hard for members of one religious family to convert to the mentality of a completely different religious tradition. Although we can usually experience fellow feeling among members of our own religious family--even if they belong to a different sect and interpret the teaching of the master in a different way--few can entertain the same degree of warmth confronted with the teaching and symbols of a "foreign" family from the other side of the globe.

The Transcendent Level

How to progress beyond a feeling of discomfort when in the company of members of an entirely different spiritual family? One can pretend to be broad-minded, but a high degree of spiritual openness is required for one to feel completely at home in the foreign environment of an alien religion. Yet, there is a way of looking beyond appearances in the recognition that all the major world religions do teach and believe in the existence of a transcendent order, of the pine, however defined. At this level, the transcendent level, all religions converge, and family differences become less and less important. Christian Cistercian monks have little difficulty in engaging in contemplative prayer with Tibetan Buddhists, as they proved when they lived and prayed together for several days in the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky. There can be warm fellow feeling in such an encounter, whose players are engaged in mystical experience of the Other, beyond the narrowness of sectarianism. The Source is One. People call it by different names.

But, as might be expected, the transcendent level of understanding has its limitations. The focus of the mystical experience can migrate from a transcendent being to a God who becomes personified and yet beyond our reach. In the minds of many, even of sincerely religious people, God is somebody else, a being so far beyond our poor capacity to conceive that He, She, or It becomes the Great Absence. Such a God is a cosmic being who dwells beyond the most distant galaxies. The Deity may intervene at times in answer to prayer, but the very idea of intervening suggests habitual absence and distance. So while theologians may talk about God's immanence as well as transcendence, the transcendence so predominates that we are left with a form of radical dualism: God is out there and we are down here. Having exorcised the demon of sectarianism and seen that all religious families are on the same quest, we now learn that the object of our quest lives in the great Elsewhere.

Advaita in the Form of Modified Nondualism

There is a form of immanentist nondualism that denies any kind of transcendence. It may take the humanistic form or the scientific one, but in either case it seeks to derive all that exists from matter, with mind and spirit dogmatized as byproducts of molecular complexity. It often goes hand in hand with the kind of scientific snobbery that ridicules any mention of the possible existence of a transcendent order. Along with this kind of materialistic monism, there is also a species of idealistic nondualism, such as that proposed by Sankara. It treats the material world as maya, or illusion. It is a form of Hinduism that a committed Vedantist like Sri Aurobindo positively rejected.

Ramanuja Acarya's modified nondualism, called Visistadvaita, is no friend of the kind of theistic dualism described earlier. Neither does it go to the opposite extreme and adopt the out-and-out nondualism of classical Hinduism. Ramanuja's nondualism is the kind with which the mystics of the world are familiar. What they tell us is that they experience some kind of oneness with God, or the Absolute Self. But the human spirit never is nor does it ever become God in the sense that God is God. Nevertheless, the chosen few know that the substance of their being is made out of God-stuff. Their spirit is not qualitatively coextensive with God, but they truly participate in the pine Life. God is wholly present in such a way that it becomes impossible to determine which is God and which is the self. When blue and yellow combine to produce green, it is almost impossible to distinguish the two primary colors in the secondary color. Such is the nature of the experience of the unity of God and self in the mystical state. However, the mystic knows, in reflecting on the experience afterward, that the blue and the yellow'God and self'do remain distinct. The yellow is not the blue, even though their union results in the phenomenon I have called green. Few of us experience this unity, or "greenness," in our day-to-day activities. Nevertheless, we are all green at the deepest level.

Last night I had a most vivid and interesting dream, yet I cannot recall it now. As with dream after dream, so much of our inner life escapes us. On the other side of the dream, at the deepest level, there lies the vast forgotten world of the true Self where Atman is Brahman. The mystic simply has the gift of experiencing in a more vivid way what is ultimately true of the constitution of every one of us. Once that identification has been realized, or accepted by faith, one begins to see the world and all creation as God does. In the eyes of the pine, there is neither Jew nor Hindu, Christian nor Buddhist. When we share God's way of seeing, even religious family divisions break down. For we all are, literally, children of God, pine offspring, living images of the Source. The fully enlightened person does not see a Muslim or a Jew but only the living, pine presence in every other man, woman, and child.

Finally, then, the true test of enlightenment is whether one is able to see God in all things, not only in human beings, whether saints or sinners, but also in lower forms of life, down to and including the atom. Once "I" manages to experience "Godness" in everything, it follows inexorably that I, too, am That. I now know that my true Self and the Self of others subsist in the bosom of the Absolute beyond every manner of sectarian or familial description. As God ceases to be somebody else out there, so too does my neighbor become not somebody else but an extension of myself and of God's all-encompassing Self.

Yet even in the rarified atmosphere of high mysticism, the leopard cannot change its spots. One has to be somewhere. If one is culturally a Catholic American male of Italian descent, there is no need to abdicate or attempt to be something else or nothing at all. As ecumenical as I may feel, I have to see the world from the point of view of what I am in this body, in this incarnation, now. One can be a particular person with a particular past and present while not being confined to that role. Charity may begin at home, but it is not limited to the narrow circle of one's immediate community; it is as wide as the universe. To live and act in that guise is to be enlightened.

James M. Somerville is professor emeritus of philosophy from Xavier University in Cincinnati, Ohio. He was cofounder and executive editor of the International Philosophy Quarterly is widely published including The Mystical Sense of the Gospels (Crossroad, 1997)and Jesus: A Man for Others (Univ. of Scranton Press, 2004). He lives in North Carolina with his wife Beatrice Bruteau.