The Play of the Mind: Form, Emptiness, and Beyond

Originally printed in the September-October 2000 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Welwood, John. "The Play of the Mind: Form, Emptiness, and Beyond." Quest  88.5 SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2000): pg 190-195.

By John Welwood

Form is emptiness, emptiness itself is form; emptiness is no other than form, form is no other than emptiness.

—Heart Sutra

In every crescendo of sensation, in every effort to recall, in every progress towards the satisfaction of desire, this succession of an emptiness and fullness that have reference to each other and are one flesh is the essence of the phenomenon.

—William James

In the gap between thoughts nonconceptual wisdom shines continuously.

—Milarepa

Western philosophy has studied the mind mainly through conceptual thought and rational analysis; as a result, it has granted thinking, even "thinking about thinking," the highest status. Modern depth psychology has gone beyond this traditional understanding by giving greater importance to what eludes thought--subconscious feelings, wishes, impulses, images. Yet modern psychology's view of mind remains limited because, in characteristic Western fashion, it focuses on the contents of mind, while neglecting mind as an experiential process.

William James  was an early critic of psychology's tendency to overemphasize the contents of the mind, while ignoring the flowing stream of consciousness itself--which for him was like saying that a river consists of nothing but pailsful, spoonsful, quartpotsful, barrelsful, and other molded forms of water. Even were the pails and the pots all actually standing in the stream, still between them the free water would continue to flow.

In directing attention toward the flow of consciousness, the free water that cannot be confined to its molded forms, James comes close to the Buddhist understanding of everyday mind as a mindstream, a continuous flow of moment-to-moment experiencing.

Buddhist psychology goes one step further, however. Beyond the static Western focus on contents of mind and the more dynamic view of the mindstream as a flow of experiencing, it recognizes a still larger dimension of mind--the presence of nonconceptual awareness, or "nonthought," as it is sometimes called. In contrast to the forms that consciousness takes--thought, feeling, perception--the larger nature of consciousness has no shape or form. Therefore, it is often described as "emptiness." If the contents of mind are like pails and buckets floating in a stream, and the mindstream is like the dynamic flowing of the water, pure awareness is like the water itself in its essential wetness. Sometimes the water is still, sometimes it is turbulent; yet it always remains as it is—wet, fluid, watery. In the same way, pure awareness is never confined or disrupted by any mind-state. Therefore, it is the source of liberation and true equanimity.

When we start to observe the play of the mind, what we most readily notice are the contents of consciousness--the ongoing, overlapping sequence of perceptions, thoughts, feelings. As we develop a subtler, finer, more sustained kind of witnessing, through a discipline like meditation, we discover in addition to these differentiated mind-moments another aspect of the mindstream that usually remains hidden: inarticulate gaps or spaces appearing between our discrete thoughts, feelings, and perceptions. These spaces between the pailsful and bucketsful of water floating in the stream are hard to see at first and impossible to remember because they have no definite form or shape we can grasp. Yet if we do not try to grasp them, these undifferentiated mind-moments can provide a glimpse of the larger reality that lies beyond the mindstream: the pure ground of nonconceptual awareness that encompasses and also surpasses all the activities of mind.

Thus the play of the mind includes three elements: differentiated and undifferentiated mind-moments, and the larger background awareness in which the interplay between these two takes place. In the Tibetan Mahamudra tradition, these three elements are known as movement, stillness, and awareness. The alternation between movement and stillness--differentiated and undifferentiated mind-moments--makes up the flowing stream of consciousness that is the foreground level of mind. And through the relative stillness of the silent spaces between thoughts we find a doorway into the essence of mind itself, the larger background awareness that is present in both movement and stillness, without bias toward either. This larger awareness is self-existing: it cannot be fabricated or manufactured because it is always present, whether we notice it or not.

In terms of the Buddhist teaching of the three kayas, we could say that the contents of consciousness belong to the nirmanakaya, the realm of manifest form. The pulsation of the mindstream, with its alternation between movement and stillness, belongs to the sambhogakaya, the realm of energetic flow. And the larger open ground of awareness, first discovered in moments of stillness, is the dharmakaya, the realm of pure being itself, eternally present, spontaneous, and free of entrapment in any form whatsoever.

Form and Emptiness in the Stream of Consciousness

Our most common experience of nonthought or emptiness is the appearance of little gaps between our thoughts--which are continually occurring, though normally overlooked. For instance, after speaking a sentence, there is a natural pause, marked by a punctuation mark when written out, which allows a split-second return to undifferentiated awareness. Or between the words of the sentence itself, there may be halts and gaps (often covered verbally by "hm" or "ah") that allow split-second attention to a preverbal sense of what we wish to say.

As one of the first Western explorers of consciousness, William James was particularly interested in these undifferentiated moments in the mindstream--which he called the "transitive parts," in contrast to the more substantial moments of formal thought and perception. James (1890, 243-4) also understood the impossibility of using focal attention to try to observe these diffuse transitional spaces that occur between more substantive mind-moments:

Now it is very difficult, introspectively, to see the transitive parts for what they really are. If they are but flights to a conclusion, stopping them to look at them before the conclusion is reached is really annihilating them. . . . The attempt at introspective analysis in these cases is in fact like seizing a spinning top to catch its motion, or trying to turn up the gas quickly enough to see how the darkness looks.

The difficulty of apprehending these undifferentiated moments through focal attention has led Western psychology to disregard or deny them as having any importance in the stream of consciousness, an error that James  called the "psychologist's fallacy":

If to hold fast and observe the transitive parts of thought's stream be so hard, then the great blunder to which all schools are liable must be the failure to register them, and the undue emphasizing of the more substantive parts of the stream.

The mind's tendency to hold onto solid forms is like a bird in flight always looking for the next branch to land on. And this narrow focus prevents us from appreciating what it is like to sail through space, to experience what one Hasidic master called the "between-stage"--a primal state of potentiality that gives birth to new possibilities. Continually looking for a belief, attitude, identity, or emotional reaction to hold onto for dear life, we fail to recognize the interplay of form and emptiness in the mindstream--out of which all creativity arises.

Beauty itself is a function of this interplay. Things stand out as beautiful only in relation to the space surrounding them. The loveliest antiques mean nothing in a cluttered room. A sudden clap of thunder is awesome not just because of the sound, but because of the silence it has interrupted, as James (1890, 240) points out:

Into the awareness of the thunder itself the awareness of the previous silence creeps and continues; for what we hear when the thunder crashes is not thunder pure, but thunder-breaking-upon-silence-and-contrasting-with-it. . . . The feeling of the thunder is also a feeling of the silence as just gone.

Similarly in music, the contour, meaning, and beauty of a melody derive from the intervals between the notes. Recognizing this, the great pianist Artur Schnabel once wrote, "The notes I handle no better than many pianists. But the pauses between the notes--ah, that is where the art resides." A single tone by itself has little meaning, and as soon as two tones are sounded they are instantly related by the shape of the space or interval between them. The interval of a third conveys a totally different feeling-quality than does a fifth. Since any pair of tones the same interval apart will sound rather similar, the sequences of intervals are what give a melody its particular quality, rather than the particular tones themselves.

Thus music provides an interesting analogy for the interplay between form and emptiness within the larger ecology of mind. Form is emptiness: the melody is actually a pattern of intervals between the tones. Although a melody is usually thought of as a sequence of notes, it is equally, if not more so, a sequence of spaces that the tones simply serve to mark off. Emptiness is form: nonetheless, this pattern of intervals does make up a definite, unique melodic progression that can be sung and remembered. And the ground of both the tones and the intervals is the larger silence that encompasses the melody and allows it to stand out and be heard.

Our usual addiction to the grasping tendency of mind causes us to overlook the spaces around thoughts, the felt penumbra that gives our experience its subtle beauty and meaning. Neglecting these fluid spaces within the mindstream contributes to a general tendency to over-identify with the contents of our mind and to assume that we are the originator and custodian of them. The troublesome equation "I = my thoughts about reality" creates a narrowed self-sense, along with an anxiety about our thoughts as territory we have to defend.

Absolute Emptiness: The Larger Ground of Awareness

So far we have focused on gaps in the mindstream--spaces between thoughts, moments of quiet--that represent a relative kind of emptiness. These gaps are relatively formless in comparison to the more graspable forms of thought, perception, or emotion. And the stillness in these gaps is only relative because it is easily disrupted or displaced by the next moment of activity that occurs in the mindstream. This type of stillness is simply an experience among experiences--what the Tibetans call nyam (temporary experience).

Beyond the relative emptiness we discover in these gaps in the mindstream there lies the much larger, absolute emptiness of nonconceptual awareness, which Buddhism regards as the very essence of mind. This nonconceptual awareness is an absolute stillness or emptiness because its space and silence actually pervade, and thus cannot be displaced by, whatever goes on in the mind. Meditation practice can help us find this larger stillness in movement, this larger silence within sound, this nonthought within the very activity of thinking.

Without sustained and disciplined inner attention, it is almost impossible to discover, enter, or abide in this absolute ground of steady awareness. For as long as we skim along the surface of consciousness, our moments of stillness are quickly disrupted by the activity of thought, feeling, and perception. Meditation practice provides a direct way to tune into this larger dimension of nonconceptual awareness. As one Tibetan text  describes this discovery:

Sometimes in meditation there is a gap in normal consciousness, a sudden complete openness. . . . It is a glimpse of reality, a sudden flash which occurs at first infrequently, and then gradually more and more often. It may not be a particularly shattering or explosive experience at all, just a moment of great simplicity.

Meditation is designed to help us move beyond the surface contents of the mind. Underneath the mind's surface activity, the ocean of awareness remains perfectly at rest, regardless of what is happening on its surface. As long as we are caught up in the waves of thought and feeling, they appear solid and overwhelming. But if we can find the presence of awareness within our thoughts and feelings, they lose their formal solidity and release their fixations. In the words of Tibetan teacher Tarthang Tulku (1974, 9-10):

Stay in the the thoughts. Just be there. . . . You become the center of the thought. But there is not really any center. . . . Yet at the same time, there is . . . complete openness. . . . If we can do this, any thought becomes meditation.

In this way, meditation reveals the absolute stillness within both the mind's turbulence and its relative calm.

Here then is the deeper sense in which form is emptiness: The essence of all thought and all experience is complete openness and clarity. In this sense, Buddhist psychology provides an understanding of mind that resembles the quantum physics view of matter. In quantum field theories, "the classical contrast between the solid particles and the space surrounding them is completely overcome" (Capra 1975, 210). Just as subatomic particles are intense condensations of a larger energy field, so thoughts are momentary condensations of awareness. Just as matter and space are but two aspects of a single unified field, so thought and the spaces between thoughts are two aspects of the larger field of awareness, which Zen master Suzuki  described as "big mind." If small mind is the ongoing grasping and fixating activity of focal attention, big mind is the background of this whole play--pure presence and nonconceptual awareness.

The following diagram illustrates the relationship between the three aspects of mind discussed here:

In this figure, the dots are like differentiated mind-moments, which stand out as separate events because of the spaces between them. Although these spaces appear to be nothing in comparison to the dots, they nonetheless provide the context that allows the dots to stand out as what they are and that joins them together. The spaces between the dots also provide entry points into the background, the white space of the page, which represents the larger ground of pure awareness in which the interplay of form and emptiness takes place.

Big Mind

The big mind of pure awareness is a no-man's-land--a free, open reality without reference points, property boundaries, or trail markers. Although it cannot be grasped as an object by focal attention, it is not an article of faith. Quite the contrary, in the words of a Tibetan text, "The nothingness in question is actually experienceable" (Guenther 1959, 54). Unfortunately, when the untutored mind regards it as a mere blankness or nothingness, the jewel-like radiance of this pure awareness becomes obscured. As Dzogchen teacher Tenzin Wangyal (1997, 29) points out:

The gap between two thoughts is essence. But if in that gap there is a lack of presence, it becomes ignorance and we experience only a lack of awareness, almost an unconsciousness. If there is presence in the gap, then we experience the dharmakaya [the ultimate].

The essence of meditation could be described quite simply, in Tenzin Wangyal's words, as "presence in the gap"--as an act of nondual, unitive knowing that reveals the ground of being in what at first appears to be nothing at all. As another Tibetan text (Guenther 1956, 269) explains, "The foundation of sentient beings is without roots. . . . And this rootlessness is the root of enlightenment." Only in the groundless ground of being can the dance of reality unfold in all its luminous clarity.


References

Capra, Fritjof. 1975. The Tao of Physics. Berkeley, CA: Shambhala.

Guenther, Herbert V. 1956. "Tibetan Buddhism in Western Perspective: The Concept of Mind in Buddhist Tantrism." Journal of Oriental Studies 3:261-77.

Guenther, Herbert V. 1959. "The Philosophical Background of Buddhist Tantrism." Journal of Oriental Studies 5:45-64.

James, William. 1890. The Principles of Psychology. New York: Holt.

Suzuki, Daisetz T. 1970. Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind. New York: Walker, Weatherhill.

Tarthang Tulku. 1974. "On Thoughts." Crystal Mirror 3:7-20.

Trungpa, Chogyam, and M. Hookham, trans. 1974. "Maha Ati." Vajra 1:6-8.

Wangyal, Tenzin. 1997. A-Khrid Teachings. Vol. 2. Berkeley, CA: privately published.


John Welwood, PhD, is a clinical psychologist and the associate editor of the Journal of Transpersonal Psychology. He has been a student of Tibetan Buddhism for thirty years and is the author of many articles and seven books. This article is excerpted from his latest book, Toward a Psychology of Awakening: Buddhism, Psychotherapy, and the Path of Personal and Spiritual Transformation (Shambhala, 2000). Copyright © John Welwood, 2000.

 
 

The Mystic Path to Inner Peace

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2001 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Abdill, Edward. "The Mystic Path to Inner Peace." Quest  89.5 ( September-October 2001): 178-183

By Edward Abdill

Theosophical Society - Ed Abdill author of The Secret Gateway, is vice-president of the Theosophical Society in America and past president of the New York Theosophical Society. His article "Desire and Spiritual Selfishness" appeared in the Winter 2011 Quest.

"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." So wrote H. P.Blavatsky about the metaphorical road that leads to enlightenment. But how can any road lead "to the very heart of the universe"?

Such a statement will not seem impossible if we first consider theTheosophical view of what we really are as human beings and how we evolve through time. We human beings have a complex nature. We are, Theosophically speaking, a compound.

Clearly we are physical creatures, and just as clearly our physical nature has no permanence. It is said that every seven years our bodies consist of a totally new set of atoms. The physical body is thus in a constant state of change, dying once every seven years of our life. Yet the sense of self that we feel so strongly endures throughout our whole life. If that self were only the body, surely we would be a different person every seven years, but we are not. We are still the same self.

We also have an emotional nature that is in a constant state of change. It is subject to immediate changes from moment to moment, and over the years to gradual, even in some people transformative, change. The self that endures through these changes cannot be the emotional nature.

We also have a mind that has an extraordinary potential. Like the animals, we can use our mind to help us get what we want, but unlike the animals, we are capable of abstract thought and of self-examination. Changing thoughts run through our mind, and the way we view the world through our mind may change radically over the years or, in some cases, with a flash of insight.

Through all these changes, the self remains the same, and at the deepest level of our consciousness lies a most extraordinary power: the power of self-transformation. It is a power that inheres in what religion calls the immortal soul and what Theosophy calls the reincarnating ego. It is the Inner Self, the observer, the witness, consciousness itself, that endures through the changes. True, we can and do express ourselves through the body, the emotions, and the mind. Yet we can also observe our physical, emotional, and mental states.

Although our conscious attention is drawn by every fascinating or terrifying event in our lives, the pure consciousness called "self" is unperturbed by the objects before it. The Ancient Wisdom suggests that the enduring self inheres in the Eternal, in the "very heart of the universe." The self that we are is, as Walt Whitman said in "Song of Myself," "both in and out of the game." We can stand a part and witness the whole process that we call "me," and we can change it.

If that is true, then we might ask why we do not identify with that Inner Self. We might just as well ask why we do not identify with our own personal subconscious. Psychologists know that our focus and our sense of self often block perception of the darker aspects of our own mind. Can it not be that our sense of self, that is, those experiences we call "self," also block even deeper aspects of our own being from conscious experience? If so, then is it possible to bring that innermost self to full consciousness?

The esoteric teaching is that not only do matter and form evolve in our world, but the subjective states that include our emotional, mental, and spiritual natures also evolve. Through all the kingdoms, up to the human stage, evolution proceeds without self-conscious intervention. That is to say, it is a passive process not under the direct control of individual plants or animals.

At the human stage, that changes. Physical evolution has come to a halt.There is no evidence that new, more evolved, more capable, physical creatures will appear on our earth. The human form seems to be the final physical stage in our world. Evolution of the subjective domain, however, is far from complete. If there is to be any further evolutionary change in our psychological and innermost nature, we must bring that change about by conscious effort. Modern psychology recognizes that, if we wish to be free of neurotic behavior and resulting pain, we must make an effort to see the world in a different light and change ourselves. We cannot buy a psychological pill from the therapist with the assurance that if we take it we will live happy and productive lives. We must delve within ourselves, see ourselves, and seek new insights and ways of responding to the world if we are to become whole.

Curiously, our development tends to recapitulate the evolutionary process. As humans, we move through the passive states rather quickly in the womb and during infancy. Then we begin to gain mastery over each level of our being. At  first, we identify with the physical body. We need to get some reasonable control of it at the beginning of each incarnation, as the race as a whole did in the distant past. Then the maturing process demands that we get a reasonable control over our emotions and that part of our mind closely associated with our emotions. We also develop our intellect, some only slightly, others very highly. Most stop there.

The wiser ones of the race sense, as Walt Whitman did, that we are not contained between our hat and our boots. There is an Inner Self that urges the conscious self to change, to develop, to reveal more of the potential that lies within, to gain mastery over the whole self at all levels of its expression.That Inner Self is Plato's charioteer, reining in the horses so that the charioteer is in charge rather than the horses.

The Inner Self has a purpose for each incarnation. We incarnate for a reason. We are not here only because of biological processes. In a single life,our own Inner Self determines to develop particular qualities and strengths. It strives to achieve positive results by overcoming resistance.

We readily accept that to develop muscles we must over come the resistance of weight. What we do not realize is that the very same principle is applicable at the emotional, mental, and spiritual levels. Not only do we grow physically strong by overcoming physical resistance, we grow strong psychologically and spiritually by overcoming resistance.

Every human being experiences some emotional and mental anguish in life. We may worry about our financial security; sorrow over a lost love; have anxious concern for the well being of relatives, friends, or ourselves; or experience many other disturbing events and situations. It would be delightful if our problems would simply go away or others would take care of them for us. Yet deep down we know that we must solve our own problems. We must change ourselves, grow, develop, and become stronger without losing compassion. Even so, most of us change only when our weaknesses force us to do so.

The process is something like this. If we lack self-confidence, we may find ourselves dominated by others. We may even provide an opportunity for the unethical to take advantage of us. If we remain timid, we cannot adequately express our own potential. Lack of self-confidence results in frustration that eventually becomes more than we can bear. The resulting emotional pain may then force us to develop our own will and courage.

Those who are habitually angry soon alienate others and find themselves without friends. Loneliness may result. From being left out of social occasions, such individuals may learn to replace anger with patience, become more flexible, and even less self-centered.

If we tend to be disorganized, we find that we are inefficient. Our  supervisors on the job discover this as well, and if we don't do something about it, we may find ourselves out of a job. Such karmic consequences force us to train our minds.

This process of being confronted by the consequences of our weaknesses and of our erroneous actions gradually leads to greater insight and character development. After a near incalculable length of time over many incarnations,this process eventually awakens the Inner Self to conscious life, and eventually to enlightenment.

There is, however, a more direct route--one that only the few dare to take.

Just as the outer evolutionary process proceeds by orderly, definable stages, so does the inner side of evolution in human consciousness. Most human beings travel the broad path that winds ever so slowly around the mountain toward its summit. A few take a more direct and arduous route, sometimes referred to as "the Path." They take this difficult route, not out of desire for personal benefit, but from a one-pointed yearning to serve suffering humanity more effectively. Each step on this Path is marked by a major shift in consciousness--a kind of new birth.

The more difficult route has been called by various names in different mystical traditions. In China it is "the Tao," in Hinduism "the Path ofInitiation," in Buddhism "the Noble Eightfold Path," in Judaism "the Way of Holiness," in Christianity "the Way of the Cross." Plato described it in his analogy of the Cave, and in The Voice of the Silence, H. P. Blavatsky speaks of its stages as "portals." All those sources indicate that it is difficult and dangerous but that, if successful, it brings reward past telling.

To enter the Path one must be consumed by, as Blavatsky puts it, "an inexpressible longing for the Infinite." In Biblical terms, one must "love the Lord, thy God, with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as thyself." And one must be willing to face the dangers and hardships of the way ahead, and be willing to lose one's life for the sake of the Infinite in order to find it in Life Eternal.

Nearly all traditions report that the personality must be purified. That is,we need to see and destroy habit patterns that are inimical to the development of the Inner Self. These habit patterns are not simply physical ones such as smoking or drinking. In fact, the more insidious ones are those that take refuge in the subconscious levels of our emotions and mind. They are subtle manifestations of self-centeredness that throw a mist over the conscious mind so that we are unaware of the motive behind our actions.

H. P. Blavatsky outlined the qualities she believed to be essential on the spiritual path in a simple, yet profound, statement entitled "The GoldenStairs." They include a clean life, an open mind, a pure heart, an eager intellect, an unveiled spiritual perception, a courageous endurance of personal injustice, a brave declaration of principles, and a valiant defense of those unjustly attacked.

From the pulpits of temples and churches, one often hears about the requirement to live a clean life. Indeed, that is important, but it is only the first step for those who want to press onward to what Blavatsky called "theTemple of Divine Wisdom." However difficult it may be to live a clean life, to develop the other qualities requires far more effort. In fact, they may take not only many years, but many lifetimes.

Theosophical sources tell us that entering the Path in earnest draws down upon us the karma of more than one lifetime. It concentrates the work--speeds everything up. Challenges that would ordinarily be spread over several lives are concentrated into one. Depending on the intensity and sincerity of our commitment, we are forced to confront and overcome many more difficult problems than would ordinarily face us. This intense acceleration of our karmic debt is what makes the Path, as mystical Christians call it, the Way of the Cross.

Speaking of this Path to an English newspaper editor, A. P. Sinnett, one of Blavatsky's teachers wrote:

You were told, however, that the path to Occult Sciences has to betrodden laboriously and crossed at the danger of life; that every new step in it leading to the final goal is surrounded by pitfalls and cruel thorns; that the pilgrim who ventures upon it is made first to confront and conquer the thousand and one furies who keep watch over its adamantine gates and entrance—furies called Doubt, Skepticism, Scorn, Ridicule, Envy and finallyTemptation--especially the latter; and that he who would see beyond had to first destroy this living wall; that he must be possessed of a heart and soul clad in steel, and of an iron, never failing determination and yet be meek and gentle, humble and have shut out from his heart every human passion that leads to evil .Are you all this? [Mahatma Letters, no. 62, chronological 126]

Paradoxically, the very first steps on the Path do not seem so difficult. Rather, they tend to be joyous. One feels born into a new and higher life. In the scriptures and myths of various cultures one often finds allusions to the entrance and various stages along the Path. In Christianity the beginning of the Path is symbolized by the Nativity—a joyous time. Speaking of this first stage,Blavatsky (The Voice of the Silence, "The Seven Portals") writes: "The road that leads there through is straight and smooth and green. 'Tis like a sunny glade in the dark forest depths."

The second portal is also somewhat joyous, but omens of difficulty appear. In Christianity it is the Baptism. In the Christian story, Jesus is now an adult and he must surely know that although he is beginning his mission, his life will not be easy. About this portal, Blavatsky writes: "And to the second gate the way is verdant too. But it is steep and winds up hill; yea, to its rocky top. Gray mists will overhang its rough and stony height, and all be dark beyond. As on he goes, the song of hope soundeth more feeble in the pilgrim's heart. The thrill of doubt is now upon him; his step less steady grows."

The third gate reveals the full extent of the future sacrifice. It is symbolized by the Transfiguration in Christianity. For the first time, Jesus tells his disciples that he will be taken from them and killed. He now fully knows his destiny. Symbolically, it is the personal ego that must die so that the divine Inner Self may rise from the dead. Blavatsky writes:

The more thou dost advance, the more thy feet pitfalls will meet. The path that leadeth on is lighted by one fire—the light of daring, burning in the heart. The more one dares, the more he shall obtain. The more he fears, the more that light shall pale—and that alone can guide. For as the lingering sunbeam, that on the top of some tall mountain shines, is followed by black night when out it fades, so is heart-light. When out it goes, a dark and threatening shade will fall from thine own heart upon the path, and root thy feet in terror to the spot.

The fourth and final gate is symbolized in Christianity as the Crucifixion. Blavatsky writes:

For, on Path fourth, the lightest breeze of passion or desire will stir the steady light upon the pure white walls of Soul. The smallest wave of longing or regret for Maya's gifts illusive, along Antahkarana--the path that lies between thy Spirit and thy self, the highway of sensations, the rude arousers of Ahankara--a thought as fleeting as the lightning flash will make thee thy three prizes forfeit--the prizes thou hast won. For know, that the ETERNAL knows no change.

Only through the death of the personal ego can the Divine Self come forth to reign. What appears to be death is in fact a gateway to the awakening of the Inner Self that inheres in the Eternal.

We may ask, with Christina Rossetti, "Does the road wind up-hill all the way?" The answer comes, "Yes, to the very end . . . my friend." We can make it to the end. But if we fail, we can try again and again until success comes.

Yet even if we shun the difficult Path and take the longer, more common route of evolution, it is helpful to remember that often the things that we think are important are, from the view of the Inner Self, completely unimportant.

The next time we get very upset over something, we might remember the little boy who would not eat his prunes at dinner. His mother told him that he had been very naughty. "People are starving in the world," she told him, "and you won't eat your prunes. God will punish you for this." Then she sent him to his room for the rest of the evening. About an hour later a terrible thunderstorm came, and she remembered what she had said to her young son. She ran upstairs to his room to comfort him and to explain that God was not punishing him by sending the storm. When she opened the door, she found him standing with his hands on his hips, looking out at the storm and saying: "Such a fuss for two prunes." Could it be that, however gigantic our problems seem, most of them are just two prunes?

As near-death experiences suggest, what is finally important is what we learn, how much we grow in strength, insight, compassion, wisdom, and self-mastery. Few other things matter much, and most things don't matter at all. They are just two prunes.

In Mozart's opera The Magic Flute, Prince Tamino was not concerned with small matters. He took the noble Path filled with danger. His bird-catching friend Papageno took the more common route. To him, a happy life with wine, food, and a loving wife was enough. Papageno was not wrong. He was a good man, but what was important to him was the cares and concerns of the personal self. The Prince was willing to make personal sacrifice to obtain the ultimate prize. He took the mystic Path to inner peace.

No matter which path we choose, when we pass through a difficult time, we might remember to dig within ourselves to find the resources, the strength, the hitherto unknown talent buried deep within our own selves, to solve the problem. For it is in the solving of a problem, meeting resistance head on and conquering it, that we grow.

The arduous trials and the luminous hopes of this mystic path to inner peace are succinctly expressed by Blavatsky in a short piece called simply "There Is a Road":

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 inwardly only, and closes fast behind the neophyte forever more.
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 onward, 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.

In this poetic form Blavatsky tells us of the difficulties, but she also assures us that there are no insoluble problems. We can succeed, if we will listen to one of her teachers, who wrote, "We have one word for all aspirants: TRY."


Edward Abdill is a former Director of the Theosophical Society in America and a past President of the New York Theosophical Society. He lectures in both English and Spanish around the nation and internationally. He is a Phi Beta Kappa and has a Master's Degree in Latin American Studies from New York University.


Viewpoint: Lucifer: What's in a Name

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2001 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Algeo, John. "Viewpoint: Lucifer: What's in a Name." Quest  89.5 ( September-October 2001): 162-163.

viewpoint

By John Algeo, National President

Questions on many subjects come across the desk of the National President of theTheosophical Society in America. Indeed, every question that no one else at the national center knows how to respond to sooner or later finds its way to my in-box. Of course, some of them, I don't know how to respond to either, but many questions that are puzzling at first will give way to answers with a bit of poking and persistence. An example is the following.

Question: Why is Lucifer the only angel whose name does not end in -el?

Answer: Most of the angelic names are from Hebrew. The element -el in Hebrew means "God" and is widely used in names, both angelic and human: Gabriel "God is my warrior, " Immanuel "God is with us," Joel  "Yah(weh) is God," Michael, "Who is like God?" Raphael "God has healed, "Uriel "Light of God," and so on. Because the angels were especially near to God, their Hebrew names often include the element -el. But Lucifer is a Latin name meaning literally "light bringer" or "light bearer" (lux, luci- "light" and-fer "bear" or "carry," as also in Christopher "He who carries Christ," the saint of that name often being depicted in religious paintings as carrying an infant Jesus on his shoulder).

How Lucifer got to be used as a name for a devil is a complicated story. In the Book of the Prophet Isaiah (chapter 14), there is a passage talking about the King of Babylon, who was not a favorite of Isaiah's. Verse 12 of that chapter runs (in the oldest known version of the Bible): "How you are fallen from heaven, O day-star, son of the morning! How you have been cut down to the ground-you who laid low the nation" (Dead Sea Scrolls Bible 292).

The King of Babylon had apparently been given (or perhaps himself assumed) the title "Day-Star," which is a name for the planet Venus, the first planet or star seen in the morning just before the sun rises, hence the King was also called "son of the morning." The identification of important monarchs with heavenly bodies has always been common, as for example King Louis XIV of France was called the "Sun King." Now, the word Lucifer "light bearer" was the Latin term for the "day-star" or Morning Star because it brought in (or bore) the light of the day.

So when the Hebrew scriptures were translated into Latin, the word lucifer was used in this verse, rendered into Latin as Quomodo cecidistide cælo, lucifer, qui mane oriebaris? That is literally, "How have you fallen from heaven, light bearer, who are born in the morning?" The reference to falling from heaven was doubtless Isaiah's way of putting the Babylonian king in his place by sarcastically observing in effect: "OK, you call yourself the Day Star of Heaven, you who think you're so high and mighty, but look at you now--you, the so-called Day Star, have fallen from your place in the heavens and have yourself been cut down to the ground."

However, the early Christian interpreters misunderstood the expression "fallen from heaven" and, instead of recognizing it as a figure of speech playing on the destruction of the wicked King of Babylon, who called himself the Day Star, they thought it was a literal statement about a fall from heaven and identified the event with the legendary fall of Satan. So they thought that the term "Day Star," or "Lucifer" in Latin, referred to Satan. And thus a term for the planet Venus became one of the names of a devil. It was a mistake caused by misunderstanding figurative language as a literal statement, a common problem among fundamentalists.

The story does not end there, however, at least not for Theosophists. When Helena Blavatsky moved to London in 1887, she decided to start a new magazine, and she chose to name it Lucifer, against the advice of some of her friends. The choice of that name was surely due, at least in part, to Blavatsky's wicked sense of humor. She knew very well that the literal-minded and unimaginative of her day would associate the name with the devil. She was saying in effect: Very well, you think I'm a devil well, here's another little tidbit for you to chew on. That is, she used the name to tweak the noses of the literalists.

The very first article in the first issue of the magazine was "What's in a Name?" and was by Blavatsky herself. In it she explained what the name really means and how it came to be misunderstood and misapplied. She also explained why it was the right name for her magazine, which was intended (as St. Paul says in 1 Cor. 4.5) to bring "to light the hidden things of darkness." She wrote that the purpose of her new magazine was "to fight prejudice, hypocrisy and shams in every nation, in every class of Society, as in every department of life." To top it off, the illustration on the cover of the magazine depicted a brilliant youth holding aloft a blazing star that he is bringing to earth.

Blavatsky furthermore pointed out that in the Book of Revelation, Christ referred to himself as "the bright and morning star," that is, Lucifer. And the Gospel of St. John (1.4) says, "In him . . . was the light of men." Blavatsky identified Christ with Prometheus, who brought fire and thus light to humanity and who was thus etymologically a Lucifer or Light-bearer. Christ, Prometheus,and Lucifer were all symbolic bringers of light to the world and consequently savior figures.

Blavatsky certainly did not believe in the existence of any literal devil, under whatever name. And she doubtless thought that ideas about the devil were a mixture of legends and misunderstandings of metaphorical and symbolic language, of which the name Lucifer is a prime example. For that reason also, it was a good name for her magazine.

The answer to the question we started with, then, is that Lucifer was not originally an angel at all (good or bad), but the planet Venus as the morningstar. The morning star or light bringer Lucifer was associated with Christ and Prometheus as mythic figures who brought light to humanity.


References

Abegg, Martin, Jr., Peter Flint, and Eugene Ulrich. The Dead Sea Scrolls Bible: The Oldest Known Bible Translated for the First Time into English. New York: Harper Collins, Harper San Francisco, 1999.

Blavatsky, Helena P. "What's in a Name? Why the Magazine is called 'Lucifer.' "Lucifer 1 (September 1887): 1 -7. Reprint Collected Writings 8:5 -13. Wheaton, IL: Theosophical Publishing House, 1960.

"Lucifer." Oxford English Dictionary. 2nd ed. on Compact Disc. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992


The Theosophical Odyssey of D. M. Bennett, Part One

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2001 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Bradford, Roderick. "The Theosophical  Odyssey of D. M. Bennett, Part One." Quest  89.5 ( September-October 2001): 172-175.

By Roderick Bradford

Bennett . . . was a very interesting and sincere person, a Freethinker who had suffered a year's imprisonment...despite the fact that a petition, signed by 100,000 persons, was sent to President Hayes on his behalf. . . . There was a candor and friendliness about the man which made us sympathize at once.

—Henry Steel Olcott
Old Diary Leaves, 2:328 -30

Theosophical Society - Roderick Bradford is a freelance writer and documentary video producer in San Diego, California. He has recently finished the manuscript of his first book, tentatively titled "TheTruth Seeker: The Biography of D. M. Bennett, the Nineteenth Century's Most Controversial Publisher and First-Amendment Martyr.D. M. Bennett arrived in Bombay, India, aboard the Cathay steamer at 2:00 am on January 10, 1882. Because of the late hour and the high tide, the ship cast anchor in the bay and passengers had to wait until morning to disembark. Bennett was standing on deck soon after day break, viewing the city of nearly 80,000, when he received a note from Colonel Henry Olcott instructing him to remain on board until Olcott arrived by boat to take him ashore. Bennett had corresponded with Olcott from Suez, accepting an invitation to call upon him and Madame Blavatsky. "I of course was glad to meet them," Bennett wrote, "and renew our old acquaintance and to see in India those whom I had known in America."

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De Robigne Mortimer Bennett (1818 -1882) was the founder, publisher, and editor of the Truth Seeker, the largest and most radical free thought and reform journal in the world. The popular sixteen-page New York weekly was "Devoted to Science, Morals, Freethought and Human Happiness." D. M. Bennett was the country's leading publisher of freethought literature, including philosophical, biographic, scientific, and anti-religious books, tracts, and pamphlets—and the most controversial.

D. M. Bennett's life was spent in three seemingly unrelated phases.Throughout his life, Bennett made and lost several small fortunes. But only in his last decade did he become a lightning rod for controversy while publishing the Truth Seeker. However, he was involved with less notoriety in other controversial movements, including Shakerism, Spiritualism, and alternative medicines. His first twenty-seven years were spent as a devout Christian and prominent member (scribe and physician) of the United Society of Believers in Christ's Second Appearing, or Shakers as they were commonly known. In the mid-nineteenth century, the Shakers were the most successful and enigmatic utopian movement in America.

Bennett played an important role during the Shakers' spiritualistic revival period— the Era of Manifestations. As a ministry-appointed journalist, he recorded his fellow believers' "divinely inspired" messages. When the revival period subsided, some of the younger members began losing their religious fervor. In 1846, Bennett and another member, Mary Wicks, left their Shaker family to get married. Their departure and apostasy was a shocking event for the celibate society and demoralized the remaining believers for years.

For the next three decades, the couple lived in different parts of the country, operating various businesses, including drugstores, and successfully marketing patent medicines known as Dr. Bennett's Family Medicines, which Bennett developed with his Shaker herbal and homeopathic knowledge. Besides reading the Bible, he began studying the scientific and philosophical works of Darwin, Huxley, Spencer, and Mill. He also read everything written by Thomas Paine, and it was the revolutionary author's deistic Age of Reason that converted Bennett to freethought.

After an argument with a clergyman about the efficacy of prayer, Bennett decided to start his own publication as an alternative to the Christian-controlled press. Inspired by Thomas Paine, Bennett became America's most passionate and prolific critic of religion. His editorial policy favored birth control, labor reform, women's rights, and taxation of church property. The Truth Seeker and its crusading editor soon became seen as threats to the nation's most influential religious leaders and wealthy manufacturers.

The Truth Seeker was founded at the height of the anti-religious movement in America, coinciding with the proliferation of organized liberal leagues and the beginning of what would later be called the Golden Age of Freethought. D. M. Bennett and Robert Ingersoll, "the Great Agnostic," both served as vice presidents of the National Liberal League, an organization devoted to the complete separation of church and state. Madame Blavatsky (CW5:119) lauded the thriving movement and "the wonderful increase of the party of Freethought, the rapid growth of Infidel Societies and Infidel Literature" as a counter balance to "theological exotericism." When criticized for promoting freethought literature in the Theosophist magazine, Blavatsky defended "the outspoken fearless books of Paine, Voltaire, Ingersoll, Bradlaugh and Bennett."

For a decade during the Gilded Age, D. M. Bennett was arguably both the most revered and the most reviled publisher in America. His devoted subscribers to the Truth Seeker, numbering in the tens of thousands, practically venerated the Shaker-turned-freethinker. But he also had powerful enemies. In 1877 he became the target for America's self-appointed arbiter of morals— Anthony Comstock. With the support of some of the country's most powerful Christian citizens, Comstock, the self-described "weeder in God's garden" went after the"infidel" publisher with a vengeance.

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Anthony Comstock (1844 -1915) at the age of twenty-nine founded the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice and successfully lobbied Congress for the passage of a federal statute popularly known as the "Comstock Law." As the society's chief vice-hunter, Comstock waged war on "obscene" books (including classic works of literature) and the writings of freethinkers, whom he considered satanic "infidels." He bragged of driving 15 persons to suicide, and his name has been enshrined in our language in the term comstockery "censorious opposition to alleged immorality." Bennett was one of his favorite targets.

D. M. Bennett's hard-fought battle against censorship (he was arrested three times) culminated in one of the historically unjust trials of the nineteenth century. He was sent to prison for mailing Cupid's Yokes, a twenty-six-page polemic by Ezra H. Heywood, critical of Comstock and advocating the abolition of marriage. It was a fifteen-cent pamphlet he did not write or necessarily agree with— but which he believed he had the right as an American citizen to sell. His arrest, trial, and conviction for sending "obscenity" through the United States mail caused hundreds of thousands of supporters, including Shakers, to come to his defense, sending money, signing petitions, and writing personal letters to President Rutherford B. Hayes.

Bennett was the most polarizing figure in freethought. In 1879, the National Liberal League was at its zenith and on the verge of developing a third political party—The National Liberal party. Organized freethinkers were becoming a political force, and hoped that their most prominent member— Robert Ingersoll— would run for the highest office in the land. But Bennett and his advocacy for total repeal of the Comstock censorship laws divided the National Liberal League. Complicating matters was the publication of love letters written by Bennett to a woman not his wife. Scribner's Monthly, one of the country's most popular magazines, denounced Bennett as the "Apotheosis of Dirt." The exposé provided ammunition for Anthony Comstock.

Bennett's free speech advocacy and the monumental petition campaign of 200,000 signatures in his support infuriated the nation's most powerful men and women, including the First Family. Although it was the largest petition campaign of the nineteenth century, it failed to persuade the President. Hayes was influenced by his devout wife and swayed by a counter-petition campaign orchestrated by Comstock. Although Hayes pardoned Ezra Heywood, the author of Cupid's Yokes, he let Bennett, elderly and in poor health, languish in one of the worst prisons in America, where he nearly died from the harsh conditions. Decades later, the former president admitted in his diary that he had made the wrong decision and that the pamphlet was not obscene.

After Bennett's eventual release from prison, his supporters provided funds for a year long tour around the world. On the final leg of that tour, Bennett came to the Theosophical Society headquarters in Bombay. The Theosophical Society had attracted a wide range of people, including many prominent freethinkers. Many of its "infidels" were former believers in orthodox Christianity, still searching for some form of spiritual sustenance to fill the void. Several of Bennett's close friends and associates had promoted Theosophy, including Albert Rawson and Charles Sotheran. Both were early prominent members of the Theosophical Society in New York.

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Albert Rawson was secretary of the National Liberal League and president of the National Defense Association, an organization founded to defend persons arrested for violating the puritanical Comstock laws. He was also a high-ranking member of several secret societies, including the Scottish Rite Masons and the Rosicrucians, and a founding member of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine. Rawson was also a close friend and early supporter of Madame Blavatsky. He contributed a detailed account of his adoption as a "brother" while visiting the Adwan Bedouins of Moab and his initiation by the Druze in Lebanon, to Blavatsky's Isis Unveiled (2:313 -5). In 1882, the year Bennett traveled to India, Rawson went to Rochester, New York, at the request of Abner Doubleday, to organize the first branch of the Theosophical Society outside New York City.

D. M. Bennett and Albert Rawson, who were close personal friends, often traveled together, including a trip to Europe in 1880. However, Bennett seems to have been either unaware of or uninterested in Rawson's deep involvement with Theosophy and secret societies. Nevertheless, in 1881, soon after arriving home from their trip abroad, Bennett commented in the Truth Seeker on a newly published book, Knights Templarism Illustrated. "Not being a Knight Templar, a Mason, or a member of any secret order," he wrote, "we are not able to say whether the book tells the truth or not, but we presume it is mainly correct. The reader will have an opportunity to judge for himself."

Charles Sotheran was one of the forming members of the Theosophical Society in New York and the Society's first librarian. Also a friend of Blavatsky, Sotheran published a letter in her Isis Unveiled (2:388 -91), regarding Masonry and claiming a connection between America's founding fathers and the Illuminati. Bennett published Sotheran's Allesandro di Cagliostro, Imposter or Martyr? in his Truth Seeker Tracts series. Cagliostro was an eighteenth-century occultist persecuted by the Inquisition as a heretic. The mysterious martyr was admired by some early Theosophists— including Rawson, Sotheran, and Madame Blavatsky.

D. M. Bennett began reporting Colonel Olcott's investigations into Spiritualism in the Truth Seeker in August 1875 shortly before the founding of the Theosophical Society. Subsequently Bennett noted the Society's activities and announced the departure of Olcott and Blavatsky for India in 1879. When Bennett renewed his acquaintance with Olcott and Blavatsky during his world tour, his imminent arrival in India was announced in one of the Mahatma Letters (no. 37) to Alfred P. Sinnett, the editor of the most influential newspaper in India, the Pioneer, and the author of two books, The Occult World and Esoteric Buddhism, that introduced Theosophy to the general public around the world.

Sinnett received letters signed by certain figures known in Theosophical lore as "Masters" or "Mahatmas" and their chelas (disciples). In a letter from one of the latter, he was informed:

I am also to tell you that in a certain Mr. Bennett of America who will shortly arrive at Bombay, you may recognize one, who, in spite of his national provincialism, that you so detest, and his too infidelistic bias, is one of our agents (unknown to himself) to carry out the scheme for the enfranchisement of Western thoughts from superstitious creeds.

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Within a few hours of the note from Olcott having reached Bennett aboard ship off Bombay, the Colonel arrived with the Hindu Damodar K. Mavalankar and the Parsi Kavasji M. Shroff to take the sixty-three-year-old editor ashore.Colonel Olcott's carriage was waiting on the busy dock ready to convey the party to the Society's headquarters four miles from the landing. After a brief stop allowing Bennett to get mail from America, they proceeded through the lively streets of Bombay to the Theosophists' residence, called the "Crow's Nest,"situated on a hill northwest of the city.

"Madame Blavatsky and Col. Olcott occupy very commodious premises," Bennett noted, "commanding a beautiful view of the bay and ocean that is not often excelled." Bennett learned that the house was rumored to be haunted, perhaps explaining why its rent was surprisingly low, considering the luxurious estate with palm groves, gardens, and breathtaking vistas. But for two of the world's leading investigators of the occult, it was perfect. "They are not the kind of people to be afraid of ghosts," he commented, "and were not at all disinclined to live in a house where ghosts and phantoms are said to congregate."

Bennett was cordially welcomed at the Crow's Nest, and found himself "agreeably surprised" by the Society's remarkable success in India. Within days of arriving, he had conversations with native Indians including Hindus, Brahmans, and Parsees, who all gave "uniform testimony" of the good work Olcott and Blavatsky were doing in gathering the diverse creeds "and especially in opposing the work of Christian missionaries" in India and Ceylon (Sri Lanka).Bennett was pleased to learn that some Truth Seeker Tracts had been translated into Sinhalese "and circulated among the truth-seeking people." These publications, he proudly reported, were interfering with the Christian missionaries, who "are doing their utmost to add this portion of the world to Christendom."

In Colonel Henry Steel Olcott, or the "White Buddhist," as he was called, Bennett found a kindred spirit in the fight against Christianity and for"universal mental liberty." He praised Olcott and Blavatsky's magazine, theTheosophist, devoted "to oriental philosophy, art, literature, and occultism, embracing mesmerism, Spiritualism, and other secret societies." Bennett reported that the Theosophist, which began publication in October 1879, "is ably conducted and contains many interesting and original articles." He was especially impressed with the Colonel's indefatigable work on behalf of the native population.

It is evident from Old Diary Leaves that Olcott admired D. M. Bennett and his mission. One of the Colonel's hobbies was "reading" a person's face for character. His extensive and complimentary description included an overview of Bennett's Shaker background and the "sham case . . . manufactured against him by an unscrupulous detective [Anthony Comstock] of a Christian Society." He depicted Bennett's forthcoming book, A Truth Seeker around the World, as an"interesting work."

H. P. Blavatsky also had a high regard for Bennett. "Mr. Bennett's path to authorship and leadership in the Western Freethought movement," she wrote in theTheosophist (CW 4:147), "did not run through the drowsy recitation rooms of the college, nor over the soft carpets of aristocratic drawing rooms. When his thoughts upon religion filled his head to overflowing, he dropped merchandising and evoluted into editorship with a cool self-confidence that is thoroughly characteristic of the American disposition, and scarcely ever looked for in any other race." However, Olcott and Blavatsky's respect and almost reverence for D.M. Bennett and his work put him and the Theosophical Society in a quandary.

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The weary Bennett was hoping to enjoy a few days' rest at the storied bungalow. But his arrival in Bombay coincided with a debated and controversial period in the history of the Theosophical Society, a time when the organization was coming under increased scrutiny and criticism, Blavatsky's alleged psychic feats were at their height, and secret letter-writing "Masters" were most prolific. Bennett would, as a result, remain in Bombay for more than two weeks, embroiled in a rancorous and well-publicized argument with an enemy of both freethought and Theosophy.

In an on going crusade, Christian missionaries were attacking Theosophy and "heathen Buddhists." One of the most vociferous critics was the Rev. Mr. Joseph Cook (1838 -1901), who pronounced Theosophy "a combination of mist and moonshine" and its founders "charlatans." Cook had gained notoriety in the 1870s as a firebrand minister, author, and lecturer who aggressively defended his Congregational faith. In 1882, he was at the pinnacle of his fame as Boston's most popular preacher;  his Monday lecture series was attended by thousands of enthusiastic followers.

While the Boston Globe praised Cook's "abstruse knowledge and great command of the language," he also had critics. In the North American Review, John Fiske challenged Cook's attempts to reconcile science and religion as "Theological Charlatanism." The Dictionary of American Biography found "no reason to doubt Cook's sincerity, but his learning was not accurate or profound, and he was often unfair to those whose views he opposed. Even his friends acknowledged that his belief in his own learning and ability was exaggerated."

Bennett and Olcott had a mutual enemy in Cook, who was a staunch Comstock supporter and whom the Colonel described as "a burly man who seemed to believe in the Trinity with himself as the Third Person." In what may or may not be a bizarre coincidence, Cook arrived in Bombay only a few days before the Theosophical Society's anniversary celebration and simultaneously with the notorious editor of the Truth Seeker. Cook's arrival was the cause of additional controversy for Bennett, resulted in a personal dilemma for Colonel Olcott, and negatively affected Theosophy as a whole.

The same day Bennett arrived in Bombay, Cook gave a lecture attacking Olcott and the Theosophical Society. Olcott and Bennett attended the lecture, together with a large audience of European missionaries and their followers, as well as "intelligent" natives, who, Bennett reported, "take but little stock in Christian dogmas." The Bombay Gazette proposed a debate between Cook and Olcott. Two days later, during his speech at the Theosophical Society's anniversary meeting, Olcott mentioned the debate proposal to the audience but told his listeners he disapproved of controversies and had no time for such a debate but perhaps Mr. Bennett "may have a few words to say upon the subject."

Bennett reluctantly made a speech giving a brief account of his arrest, trial, and imprisonment. As to the Christian-sponsored opposition to Theosophy, "I know something of this sort of opposition," he declared; "I know something of Christian love and charity. I have had an opportunity of tasting it." He reviewed Cook's lecture, finding the preacher's hypothesis that nature is controlled by some "imaginary weaver," dishonest and depriving "her [nature] of the credit which is justly due to her." Bennett concluded his speech arguing against Cook's assertion that the doctrine of immortality originated with Christianity. He told the largely Hindu audience that Christianity had nothing new to offer them and nothing superior to what they had "many hundreds of years before Christianity was known in the world. Probably better morals have never been taught than were in the passages by the sages and philosophers of your country."

(To be concluded)




References

  

Bennett,

De Robigne M., ed. The Truth Seeker: Devoted to Science, Morals, FreeThought, Free Enquiry and the Diffusion of Liberal Sentiments. Paris, IL: Liberal Association of Paris, IL, vol. 1, no. 1 (Sept. 1873)

         ---.   

A Truth Seeker around the World: A Series of Letters Written While Making a Tour of the Globe. 4 vols. New York: D. M. Bennett, 1882.

Blavatsky,

Helena Petrovna. Collected Writings. 15 vols. Wheaton, IL: TheosophicalPublishing House, 1966 -91.

         ---.   

Isis Unveiled. 2 vols. 1877. Reprint. Wheaton, IL: TheosophicalPublishing House, 1972, 1994.

de Zirkoff,

Boris. "Bennett, De Robigne Mortimer." In Collected Writings of H. P. Blavatsky, 4:625 -33. Wheaton, IL: Theosophical Publishing House,1969.

Heywood,

Ezra Hervey. Cupid's Yokes; or, The Binding Forces of Conjugal Life. Princeton, MA: Co-operative Pub. Co., 1878, 188?.

         ---.   

The Mahhatma Letters to A. P. Sinnett from the Mahatmas M. and K.H. in Chronological Sequence . Ed. Vicente Hao Chin, Jr. Quezon City, Manila, Philippines: Theosophical Publishing House, 1993.

Olcott,

Henry Steel. Old Diary Leaves, Second Series, 1878 -83. London: Theosophical Publishing Society, 1900.

   Warren,

Sidney. American Freethought, 1860-1914. New York: Gordian Press, 1966.




Roderick Bradford (rodbradford51@hotmail.com) is a freelance writer and documentary video producer in San Diego, California. He has recently finished the manuscript of his first book, tentatively titled "TheTruth Seeker: The Biography of D. M. Bennett, the Nineteenth Century's Most Controversial Publisher and First-Amendment Martyr." This article is abstracted from that work.

 
 
 

What is Christian Scripture

Originally printed in the SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 2001 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Hoeller,Stephan A. "What is Christian Scripture." Quest  89.5 ( September-October 2001): 165.

Observations stimulated by the Theosophy-Christianity Con­ference, November 5 -7, 2000
(Continued from Quest July-August)

Stephan A. Hoeller

 

WE MAY ASK NOT ONLY "What is a Christian?" but also "What is a Christian scripture?" What counts as sacred scripture within a Christian context, and what is its role within the framework of a dialogue between Theosophi­cal and Christian partners?

The Bible has always occupied an important position in Christian thinking. Among believers with an allegiance to the Protestant reformation, the Bible has even assumed an unquestioned centra­lity. The canonical Bible has been interpreted and dissected by many persons, both esoterically inclined and otherwise. What may be of signal interest for purposes of a dialogue of the kind envisioned is the appearance in our days of an "Other Bible," a set of alternative scriptures dating back to the earliest centuries of the Christian dispensation.

The extensive collection of scriptures discovered in 1945 at Nag Hammadi, Egypt, holds great promise as a basis for a dialogue. While some of the tractates in the codices are admittedly difficult to relate to conven­tional Christian teachings, others are far more amenable. One of these, The Gospel According to Thomas, contains a large number of sayings of Jesus, most of which would be viewed with interest by any fair-minded Christian. Some of the sayings are virtually identical with sayings in the New Testament, while others are of a more esoteric character. Several editions of the New Testament that in­clude this scripture as the "Fifth Gospel" are now on the market. Another such work,The Gospel of Truth, contains a most inspiring, devotional meditation on the salvific work of Jesus. Any sensitive Christian could not help but be deeply impressed by these writings as well as by others in the same collection.

My experience has been that most Christians, often even of the most conventional variety, respond favorably to these scriptures. It would seem therefore that they may be a suitable basis and common ground for dialogue. The Gnostic overtones of these writings, along with their explicitly Christian character, make them emi­nently suitable to act as a bridge between aTheosophical and Christian worldview.

Many scholars who translated and sympathetically commented upon the Nag Hammadi scriptures are Christian ministers. Their ranks include the chief instigator of the translation project, the former head of the Institute of Antiquity and Christianity, Dr. James Robinson. As the result of the publication of these scriptures, there has been a marked change in the attitude of Christian scholars toward Gnosticism and related schools of esoteric Christianity. Formerly abominated as irredeemable heresies, these approaches to Christianity are increasingly viewed as capable of contributing usefully to our understanding of early Christian history and often to the Christian message in general.

Regrettably, the views of Christian scholars are often unknown to the rank and file in the churches. Theosophical writers and lecturers could make a valuable contribution to the dialogue by engaging in an informed study and exposition of these scriptures and by making them available to Christian people.

Such are some observations that have been stimulated by the Conference on Theosophy and Christianity of November 5 -7, 2000.    


 

Stephan Hoeller, a bishop in the Gnostic Church, is a popular lecturer and the author of several Quest Books. He is writing an introduction to Gnosticism as his next volume for the Theosophical Publishing House


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