The Priest and the Biologist

Printed in the  Winter 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation:  Sorkhabi, Rasoul"The Priest and the Biologist" Quest 108:1, pg 28-31

Teilhard de Chardin and Sir Julian Huxley offer a grand vista of human life as they integrate Darwin’s theory of evolution with our social and spiritual development.

By Rasoul Sorkhabi

Theosophical Society - Rasoul Sorkhabi is a professor of geology at the University of Utah. He has published numerous articles on the interfaces of modern science and spiritual philosophy.On July 12, 1941, in the midst of World War II, Teilhard de Chardin, a French Jesuit priest and geologist living in China, sent a letter from Peking to his friend the Abbé Breuil in Paris, in which he wrote: “I am continuing to work towards a better presentation, clearer and more succinct, of my ideas on the place of man in the universe. Julian Huxley has just brought out a book, or rather a series of essays, called The Uniqueness of Man, in a way so parallel to my own ideas (even though without integrating God as the term of the series) that I feel greatly cheered . . . I know that my book has arrived safely in Rome and has been under consideration for three months. I don’t dare to hope for favorable news: and yet isn’t this just the time for a Catholic to speak openly and as a Christian on lines determined by the best scientific thought of today?” (Chardin, Letters, 283–84).

Teilhard is alluding to the fact that his book the now-classic Le phénomène humain (The Phenomenon of Man) reached Rome for ecclesiastical censorship in 1944. Later that year, Teilhard learned that his book, like his previous philosophical writings, was not permitted for publication. Because of World War II, Teilhard’s letter did not reach the Abbé Breuil until July 5, 1945. Nevertheless, this letter is significant even today, because it juxtaposes two eminent intellectuals and scientists: Teilhard and Sir Julian Huxley, the latter a secular humanist and zoologist, who, like Teilhard, made a pioneering attempt to reconcile Darwin’s theory of evolution with humankind’s cultural and spiritual growth.

Many people know about Teilhard or Huxley through numerous books and articles about each of them, but less known is the friendship and intellectual exchanges between these two men from 1946, when they first met in Paris, until 1955, when Teilhard died. Here I explore this subject based primarily on their own letters, writings, memoirs, and accounts of their meetings. In this article I pursue two specific questions. First, how did Teilhard and Huxley come independently to a similar position on the theory of evolution; second, how did they entertain a lasting friendship and respectful dialogue despite their different backgrounds—one an ordained priest and the other an admitted atheist? These questions are especially relevant to our time, where polarization rather than understanding is promoted by extremists in both science and religion.

Two Parallel Lives

Teilhard was born in 1881 in the French province of Auvergne, with its green mountains and volcanic soil. His father was a landowner and an amateur naturalist; his mother a devout Catholic. At age eleven, Teilhard entered a Jesuit school. In 1901, when the French government restricted religious institutions, the Jesuits moved their houses to the U.K. Teilhard, then twenty, went there to study theology and natural science, and was ordained a priest in 1911. He then returned to Paris and conducted research on mammalian fossils at the National Museum of Natural History. He got his PhD in geology from the Sorbonne in 1922. The following year, Teilhard went to China for geological research and lived there in exile, working for the Geological Survey of China until the end of World War II, because the Catholic officials did not welcome his evolutionary ideas in Europe.

Julian Huxley was born in 1887 in London to a family of intellectuals. His younger brother, Aldous, became a famous novelist. His grandfather Thomas Henry Huxley was a renowned biologist and agnostic thinker. An eager defender of Darwin in the second half of the nineteenth century, he was called “Darwin’s bulldog.” Julian studied at Eton College and later at Balliol College, Oxford, where he majored in biology in 1909. He held various positions at Rice University in the U.S., Oxford University, King’s College (University of London), the Royal Institution of Great Britain, and the Zoological Society of London. Huxley was a prolific writer of scientific texts and essays, and Teilhard had read some of his work before they first met.

Meeting in Paris

The year 1946 saw major changes for both Teilhard and Huxley. In that year, Teilhard returned to Paris from China, and Huxley was appointed director-general of the newly established United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) in Paris. Recalling these years in his Memoirs, Huxley writes: “Perhaps the most interesting acquaintance I made was that of the Jesuit, Père Teilhard de Chardin, to whom I was introduced in the lobby of Unesco by the geologist Edmond Blanc. Blanc thought that I, as the author of Religion without Revelation, ought to know Teilhard, who had written a number of essentially humanist works with an evolutionary as well as a religious background” (Huxley, Memoirs, 27).

In a letter to a friend dated November 7, 1946, Teilhard reported on his meeting with Huxley: “During October I had also a dinner with Julian Huxley (executive-secretary of UNESCO), but with Breuil and a few others, so that I could not contact him on the vital points. But I sent him a recent article of mine about Planetisation and he answered me that we were very close” (King and Gilbert, 191).

This meeting was the beginning of their friendship, which lasted nearly a decade and during which they met several times, wrote letters to each other, and attended a few conferences together.

The New Humanism

Both Huxley and Teilhard, who had witnessed the deadly effects of two world wars, were concerned that traditional belief systems as well as modern science could be misused for destructive purposes. This partly motivated them to offer a humanistic position for science and thus create a bridge between rational science and spiritual life. Huxley called it “evolutionary humanism”; Teilhard called it “neo-humanism.”

At the heart of this new humanism was the concept of evolution, which both Huxley and Teilhard had studied as practicing scientists. Huxley the zoologist focused on the processes of evolution: his book Evolution: The Modern Synthesis, published in 1942 and revised in 1974, still remains a major work on this subject. Teilhard the geologist was more interested in the fossil record and patterns of evolution over geological time. His scientific perspective is best described in a small book he wrote in 1949 in Paris: Man’s Place in Nature, echoing the title of Thomas Henry Huxley’s 1904 book, Man’s Place in Nature and Other Anthropological Essays. Teilhard wrote this book purely on scientific grounds, without including theology, in the hope that it would not meet the fate of his previous writings. But the Catholic authorities did not let him publish it either.

According to Huxley and Teilhard, when we look at the history of life on earth, we see a pattern of progress from simpler forms to more complex and more conscious ones. Huxley discusses what this “evolutionary progress” means (Huxley, Evolution, chapter 10): Although millions of species have become extinct in the past, they have not taken life backward; rather, life forms have branched, radiated, and flourished. Moreover, each surviving species, whether higher or lower, is well adapted to its environment: a jellyfish is as well suited to its environment as a bird, and one cannot survive in the other’s. This is specialization at the species level, and many well-adapted species may remain unchanged for hundreds of millions of years. Nevertheless, viewing life as a whole, the history of evolution shows that specialization and species have become more complex and more cogent through time. Capability to move, see, feel, control body temperature, communicate, manipulate the environment, and overcome physical limitations have become stronger and more refined.

With the appearance of humankind, both Huxley and Teilhard argued, there was a new threshold in evolution: self-reflection, or life becoming conscious of itself. Conscious cultural evolution thus began. Science as well as religion are by-products of this new evolution—something that no other species has ever achieved. In other words, Darwin’s theory of evolution did not reduce humankind to unimportance: humankind is a unique phenomenon in the history of earth. “Biology,” Huxley wrote, “thus reinstates man in a position analogous to that conferred on him as Lord of Creation by theology” (Huxley, Man Stands Alone, 5).

From this perspective, Huxley offered an optimistic view of the future, in which men and women progress in science, arts, technology, and culture. Teilhard gave a religious flavor to his equally optimistic outlook. The culmination of human’s evolution, he said, was “Christ consciousness.” This was the Omega Point, which would unite evolved humanity with the Word that was present at the beginning (John 1:2). Teilhard also posited the emergence of a new realm on earth in addition to the lithosphere (rocks), the atmosphere (the air), the hydrosphere (the oceans) and biosphere (life forms); he called it the noosphere—the interconnected realm of the human mind. Today some people regard the global spread of the Internet and information technology as a validation of Teilhard’s concept.

Difference Is Good

The parallels between Teilhard’s and Huxley’s thought should not lead us to ignore their differences. These actually make their ideas complementary and our examination of their thoughts richer.

To begin with, Teilhard’s focus was Christianity. As a Christian apologist, he wanted to reconcile evolution with his religion; he did not venture into how other religions would embrace the evolutionary science. Huxley, on the other hand, had no affiliation with Christianity or any other religion. He viewed all religions as evolutionary products of human culture and thinking, and suggested how to develop the role and function of religion in harmony with modern knowledge and needs.

Teilhard viewed evolution as a universal characteristic of matter. Huxley, on the other hand, limited his discussion to the evolution of life on earth. In The Phenomenon of Man, Teilhard offers a grander view of evolution in four phases: (1) the creation of the universe (“cosmogenesis”), including the formation of earth (“geogenesis”); (2) the development of life forms (“biogenesis”); (3) the emergence of human intelligence (“homogenesis”); and (4) the spiritual convergence of humankind at the Omega Point (“christogenesis”).

Two other differences between these men are mentioned in the following comment by Huxley: “I have always regretted that Teilhard neglected to explain and discuss the mechanisms of biological evolution as well as its results in its long temporal course, and I was quite unable to follow him in his conclusions about Christification, Point Omega, and the like. But this in no way detracts from his essential achievement of linking science and religion across the bridge of evolution.” (Huxley, foreword to Barbour, 9).

Huxley’s remark about the religious tone of Teilhard’s ideas overlooks the fact that Huxley promoted his “evolutionary humanism” as a “developed religion without revelation”; he embraced the importance of “religious sentiments” and suggested that the traditional religions needed to update themselves about modern science. He even spoke of his “evolutionary humanism” as a “developed religion” (Huxley, Religion, chapter 9).

For his part, Teilhard believed that Huxley’s evolutionary science was missing a sense of psychological “drive” or spiritual energy inherent in matter and life. In a letter to Huxley dated February 27, 1953, Teilhard formulated his criticism in a question: what is it that drives evolution and life forms to take advantage of chances (through natural selection) toward more complexity and greater consciousness? (Cuénot, 304). This is also probably why Teilhard once wrote: “Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire” (Chardin, Toward the Future, 86).

Theologian Charles Raven, Teilhard’s first American biographer, commented: “If the world is a cosmos and evolution its history, the progress must be judged not only by its origins but by its results. No honest student of it can ignore the fact this planet has been the birthplace of life and man, and of Christ and the saints” (Raven, 158).

The intellectual differences between Huxley and Teilhard reveal themselves in their style of writing. When one reads Huxley’s essays, one feels that it comes from the pen of a scientist who is reaching out to our best human side. Teilhard’s essays are rich in poetic expressions, romantic conversation with the universe, and at times even prayers.

The Religion of Tomorrow

Teilhard died in New York, where he had been living in his second exile since 1951. His philosophical works were published only after his death, thanks to the efforts of Jeanne-Marie Mortier, his literary executor in Paris. When the English translation of The Phenomenon of Man was published in 1959, it included a lengthy introduction by Julian Huxley, which called it “a very remarkable work by a very remarkable human being,” and ended, “We, mankind, contain the possibilities of the earth’s immense future, and can realise more and more of them on condition that we increase our knowledge and our love. That, it seems to me, is the distillation of The Phenomenon of Man.” Huxley, who died in 1975 in London, lived long enough to witness the tremendous popularity and impact of his friend’s ideas and writings, even though the Vatican placed a monitum (warning) on Teilhard’s books in 1962.

In an essay written just a month before his death, Teilhard talked of “the religion of tomorrow,” in which humankind partakes in the grand scheme of evolution toward its best possibilities; Teilhard also envisioned a “re-born Christianity, capable of becoming the religion whose specific property it is to provide the driving force in evolution” (Teilhard, Heart of Matter, 99). This was indeed the common ground between Teilhard and Huxley, who also wrote: “Spiritual forces at work in the cosmos are seen as part of nature just as much as the material forces . . . Our basic hypothesis is thus not merely naturalistic as opposed to supernaturalist, but monistic as opposed to dualistic, and evolutionary as opposed to static” (Huxley, Religion, 210).

Recent popes, especially Benedict XVI, have spoken or written approvingly of Teilhard's ideas, and have even sometimes used his phrases in their speeches, but alas, without acknowledging that Teilhard had to endure the injustice of not being able to publish in his lifetime.

Huxley and Teilhard present an illustrative case, not only of a dialogue and common ground between science and religion but also of respect, friendship, and compassion that our violent and divided world needs in these critical times.


Sources

George B. Barbour, In the Field with Teilhard de Chardin. Foreword by Sir Julian Huxley. New York: Herder and Herder, 1965.

Cuénot, Claude, Teilhard de Chardin: A Biographical Study. Translated by Vincent Colimore. Baltimore: Helicon, 1965

Huxley, Sir Julian. Evolution: The Modern Synthesis. 3d ed. London: George Allen & Unwin, 1974.

———. Man Stands Alone. New York: Harper & Bros., 1941. Published in the U.K. under the title The Uniqueness of Man.

———. Memoirs II. New York: Harper & Row, 1973.

———. Religion without Revelation. Rev. ed. New York: Harper & Bros., 1957.

King, Thomas M., and Mary W. Gilbert, eds. The Letters of Teilhard de Chardin and Lucile Swan. Washington: Georgetown University Press, 1993.

Raven, Charles E. Teilhard de Chardin: Scientist and Seer. New York: Harper & Row, 1962.

Sorkhabi, Rasoul. “Geology and Spirituality: The Evolution of Teilhard de Chardin.” The World & I online magazine, June 2005.

———. “Sir Julian Huxley Bridged Biology and Humanity.” The World and I online magazine, April 2006.

———. “Pierre Teilhard de Chardin and Sir Julian Huxley: A Tale of Two Friends.” Teilhard Studies 79 (fall 2019).

Teilhard de Chardin, Pierre. The Heart of Matter. Translated by René Hague. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1978.

———. Letters from a Traveler. Translated by Bernard Wall. New York: Harper & Row.

———. The Phenomenon of Man. Translated by Bernard Wall. Foreword by Sir Julian Huxley. New York: Harper & Row, 1959. A new translation of this work is entitled The Human Phenomenon. Translated by Sarah Appleton-Weber. Brighton, U.K.: Sussex Academic Press, 1993.

———. Toward the Future. Translated by René Hague. New York: Harcourt, 1973.


Rasoul Sorkhabi, PhD, is a professor of geology at the University of Utah. His life spans both East and West, as he has lived and studied in Iran, India, Japan, and the U.S. He has published numerous articles on the interfaces of modern science and spiritual philosophy. His article “Garden of Secrets: The Real Rumi” was published in Quest, summer 2010. For more information, visit: www.rasoulsorkhabi.com.


Technospirituality: Shifting beyond the Flow

Printed in the  Winter 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation:  Oliver, Lucy"Technospirituality: Shifting beyond the Flow" Quest 108:1, pg 24-27

By Lucy Oliver

Theosophical Society - Technospirituality:  Shifting beyond the Flow - Lucy Oliver has been a teacher and practitioner of meditation derived from the Western esoteric tradition for over forty years. After studies in sacred symbolism at Oxford University, Lucy has developed Symbolic Encounters, a method of pointing out the symbolic roots in language on a path of knowledge.The terms technospirituality or psychospirituality suggest a modern approach to exploring human consciousness outside traditional religious frameworks, which generally includes leading-edge research into altered and nonordinary states. It is a development facilitated by the rapid advancement of technology and pharmacology, allowing states of consciousness which were once generated within a spiritual context to be reproduced, manipulated, and monitored to order. An evolution perhaps, but certainly raising questions about the nature of spirituality.

A huge range of mechanisms for producing altered or higher states are automatically classed as “spiritual” activities, although differentiated from “religion,” which is institutional, cultural and belief-based. Now with philosophical and even neuroscientific backing, it appears that spirituality is resurgent with a new wave of intelligent, high-functioning thinkers and practitioners.

As exciting and compelling as the new possibilities are, I would argue that for all its virtues, the thrust of much contemporary spirituality has actually lost its grip on Spirit. The field of Spirit, as it has been acknowledged and honored from ancient times, is not secular, is not the same as humanism, and is not defined by mind states or psychological codification. Also by its very nature, it is known in a manner above and beyond the measurable physiology that is correlated with it.

The rules for encountering Spirit are particular, and not the same as in the field of scientific research or modern psychology. Ultimately spirituality is not about human-centered issues at all, so it is not fundamentally about the functional and personal benefits (happiness, well-being, health, peace, even insight or shift of perspective), which almost all modern versions target as objectives. By definition, spirituality is not humanism.

From a symbolic point of view, the earth has not been the center of our cosmos since Copernicus. The sun is no longer the center of our galaxy, and our galaxy is not the center of the universe. It is a true challenge to embrace the analogue of these shifts away from earth/human-centered perspectives. Just as the Ptolemaic worldview generated epicycles to account for perceived reality, sophisticated rational explanations can work very well—except for those areas which have to be excluded from the model as nonrational and nonscientific. These are exactly the arena of Spirit.

The problem is that we do not have the language to address Spirit outside traditional religious frameworks. There is presently no context for it that does not descend into superstition or psychism except within established traditional teachings and employing the language of those traditions. The reason is simple: Spirit speaks for itself; it inspires its own language. It can’t be faked or concocted from mind, rationality, or emotion, and religious traditions have generally been the guardians of such speaking.

Although there are traditions of oral transmission outside institutional frames, the voice of the Spirit in human history has for the most part been preserved through religious systems. Many of these depict the spectrum of spiritual perception and reality in a series of levels ranging from the grossest materiality to the finest supersensible realms. One such is a simple model of four simultaneously existent hierarchical “worlds” as portrayed in the Kabbalah: Assiyah (the earthly realm), Yetzirah (the dimension of psyche), Briah (the realm of the spirit), and Atzilut (the level of the divine).

In ordinary usage a “world” circumscribes a particular sphere of activity, with its own rules and parameters: for example, the world of fashion, the world of racing; the medical world etc. In daily living, these different worlds interlink and coexist, and we choose whether or not to identify with them. In the same way, traditional four-world teaching depicts a hierarchy of human consciousness and potential experience ranging from grosser to finer states of perception. Each is a world, but they interpenetrate hierarchically, so the finer ones are present within and infuse the densest and visible, which we call materiality.

Here I would like to recast these concepts in updated terms in order to reflect the principles behind the metaphysical structure and to provide a fresh perspective on contemporary trends.

We can characterize these four interpenetrating worlds as surface, flow, rhythm, and field, in ascending order from the densest (visible materiality) to the subtlest realm of experience. Renaming these worlds in demythologized terms opens them up for a contemporary context. It is also an exercise in abstract thinking, which, I argue, is a condition for the transition we need to make.

Surface is everything visible. It is all that we ever actually encounter with the senses: the surfaces of things, hard, shiny, colored, moving, still, textured, molecular, vibratory.

Flow describes psychological experiencing: how we interact with surfaces, the associations we make, the meaning we create. Flow embraces, connects, and responds to surrounding conditions, as water follows gravity and contour.

Rhythm interrupts flow and, once established, can sustain itself independently. Rhythms repeat, like the tides, the seasons, the beating heart. Beats are discrete. Cycles can be huge and work together.

Field may appear to have no flow or rhythm, but these dynamics are present, structuring the stillness and space. Any field is as wide as its hidden forces allow.

From Flow . . . 

Modern psychospirituality prioritizes the cultivation of flow states, often assisted by pharmaceuticals in varying doses, especially microdoses of psychedelics and other mind-enhancing drugs, which have led to an explosion of fast, cutting-edge thinking in arenas like Silicon Valley. The flow state facilitates new connections and networks beyond normal mind processing and cognition (altered or nonordinary states), activating powerful neurotransmitters, along with sensations of pleasure and meaningfulness. These states are also cultivated in the military, through extreme sports, or in any context where hyperperformance has a useful function, and are also explored for pleasure because of their addictive quality.

All these methods induce and amplify flow states, which are also valued for the change of vision and values they can inspire, which is where they appear to rival the traditional context of spirituality. Meditation is also employed for functional purposes as one of the tools of “spiritual technologies.”

Along with the potential benefit for individuals (there are of course dangers and downsides, including overdependence), altered states are heralded as a potential corrective to the world’s current problems and crisis. It has been proposed that a phase shift is needed in the collective psyche, and that the type of awareness promoted through flow states may contribute to the new solutions and perspectives required for humanity’s advancement or survival.

In addition to increasing functionality, flow feels harmonious, carrying thought and emotion as a river flows serenely to the sea. But rocks can interrupt that flow and create eddies, pools, changes in the current, turbulence. To generate power, the serenity must be dammed, then released in a fast torrent. Energy comes from interruption, yet the river is still flowing towards the sea. Its flow continues beneath and around the interruptions and different rhythms created in the phases of its journey. In rhythm is power.

. . . To Rhythm

In the hierarchy of worlds, rhythm lies beyond flow, and represents a jump, a transition to a different kind of perception, with different rules of engagement.

 On the global stage, some leading futurist and systems thinkers are seeing the current disruption of the old social and political order as evidence of a phase shift. I suggest that we are actually faced with a global shift from the dominance of flow to a stage of rhythm. The eruptions of the unexpected are disrupting our comfort zone, and at present we haven’t learned how to handle them. Making sense of the situation requires large overview thinking, based on the plausible hypothesis that what appears as interruption could be a manifestation of larger rhythms beyond our ken, whether planetary, social, or individual.

We don’t as yet have a common mythological or spiritual framework to integrate the new possibilities that arise from breaking up the old order. New spiritual technologies may appear to represent an evolutionary advance, but they can also be regarded as a Promethean quest, stealing fire from the gods for human ends. Modern Titans don’t see a need for God, and once it is possible to produce altered states technologically and at will, spirit can seem to mean no more than mind.

Yet consciousness experimentation, without trying to reenvision what spirit might mean, is Promethean. When one is stealing fire from the gods to power commercial or narcissistic enterprises, it would be wise to remember that Prometheus ended up tied to a rock with an eagle eating his liver.

It could also be argued that states of mind are not necessarily identical with states of being. Being grows over time, perhaps as the outcome of years of self-discipline, austerity, and learning, all of which allow time and space for the chthonic action of spirit.

By the testimony of the world’s greatest sages and spiritual teachers, a shift towards the spirit is a movement towards simplicity—the transpersonal and formless. This contrasts with felt experiences, which are valued for their personal meaning and benefits. It is generally held that spiritual experiences per se are never the goal, but are merely confirmatory markers on the journey.

If new rhythms are imposed upon us as individuals, it may take a while to adjust, and a first response may be to resist and try to reestablish the familiar. To navigate the world of rhythm, a different kind of effort is required, perhaps involving less safety, more independence, a sense of heading into the unknown or navigating choppy waters. The hardest thing on an individual’s journey is to leave behind the pleasures of flow, including the satisfaction of understanding and the ability to connect happenings and concepts into a coherent narrative. The effort to grasp principles is an important step towards appreciating the value of rhythm, along with thinking more abstractly and looking for wider patterns. This effort is combined with staying the course, keeping steady, trying to key in to subtle rhythms, and trusting that the flow is continuing underneath towards the ultimate “sea,” which we may equate with Spirit.

Beyond Flow

Flow is a great advance on chaos, suffering, and lack of direction, so people seek more flow in their lives, and, when possible, access to hyperflow states. Flow states are the aim of many if not most contemporary meditation methods, including the ancient traditional forms as they are presented in retreat programs and similar venues (activating their full potential may require different conditions). Modern approaches also encourage and value felt experience over ideas of spiritual truth. Even powerful emotional experience is flow if an element of the personal remains.

By contrast, the force of rhythm is like the oscillation of tides at the edge of a great sea, pulled by other forces beyond. Underlying the body’s living flow, and the flow of thought, are rhythmic heartbeats, brain waves, inhaling and exhaling, circadian rhythms, all outside normal conscious control, and sustaining life for the long term. Physical rhythms naturally interact with the psyche, but when a creative insight or transformative vision arrives out of the blue, it feels like an incursion from beyond the usual processes of mind, as if from some larger order or process whose rhythm is on a different time scale. Large cycles, tidal movements of energy, sometimes produce a wave, and at others recede. Results are never guaranteed, and may not be in a foreseeable form. All these are characteristics of the world of rhythm.

This creative dimension originates from the world of rhythm. Perceptions, thoughts, or actions seem to arise from emptiness, naturally, in the moment and perfectly suited to it. Although such illuminations or breakthroughs could be the results of long mental gestation processes cycling beneath the radar of consciousness, they frequently appear as sudden—a product of the effortless effort extolled by mystics and sages. At this point, their paradoxical statements start to have relevance, like a code to a different operating system.

The wisdom of the world of rhythm is supported by religious teachings of the East and West. They offer large-scale perspectives on the cosmos and human life as well practical methods for developing nonattachment and steadiness. These methods are to be pursued without seeking results or being invested in outcomes. An example is the special kind of vision which Zen teaching calls seeing into the nature, which penetrates beneath the surface of things and through the flow of experience.

Clear States

Moments of such true seeing often occur in what could be called a clear state, which is devoid of the emotional high of the flow state. When awareness is open or still, the seed of an idea, thought, or perception can arise like a pulsation, which, then or later, takes on formation, perhaps while one is walking, doing some task, or sitting quietly. Seeing is a grasp of some truth or essence, which then develops through the flow of thought to manifest to the senses as surface once it is written out or acted upon.

The creativity of clear states can be quiet and unspectacular; their power is in consistency and hidden force. The mind can be trained to achieve these states through concentration on abstract symbols, which are themselves potent repositories of meaning irreducible to rational or intellectual thought. This process is a stage in the growth of consciousness toward the genuinely spiritual, and is often expressed in terms of emptiness, selflessness, or unconditioned Being.

However, there is yet one higher world.

 Into the Field

The developing technologies of flow are helping to concentrate our attention on the qualities of different states of mind and emotion, but as previously suggested, disruptions in the political and social flow of the status quo is exactly what could be expected of a collective phase shift, which is demanding a different rhythm and approach.

It might be heartening to look beyond this transition, into the highest, most subtle of worlds in this traditional formulation—the world of field. The other levels make more sense when viewed from this total context. There isn’t yet a language for field awareness in common currency. Note, however, that global and futuristic thinkers routinely use metaphors taken from the digital world. These thinkers are in effect generating a new mythology with their new metaphors, which, once you get the reference, work beautifully to articulate new thinking.

Watch a meditator settle the body into stillness, as the mind flow abates or moves to the periphery of attention, the rhythms of the breath become fine and imperceptible, and the field of experience becomes wide and without conditioned contours. It is like the moment just before a leap, all living forces held in check but potent, ready.

Ready for what?

To engage with the mystery of life. Despite all advances, we know neither the source nor the outcome of our own life, or of any life, or of the cosmos and the eons of its existence. The truly wise become so by acknowledging our participation in great cycles and rhythms, and may call this awareness Spirit, or God, or the Unconditioned, or a name of similar order. The power inherent in the macrocosm of the created universe, or in the microcosm of humanity, is not subject to measurement in a laboratory and never will be. This is getting closer to what I, like our ancestors, have understood as Spirit.

The meditator or sage is a technologist of the infinite not yet superseded. All genuine spiritual teachings preserve the wisdom that there is much further to go beyond flow consciousness, but actualizing this potential makes demands that only a few of us are willing to meet. In meditation we are assisted to traverse flow states and navigate the phases of rhythm by regular guidance, which is both a support and a training in the discernment and differentiation of the states of flow and field (however they are named). Rhythm and repetition are essential elements in the training of meditation, as in repeated letting go or bringing the mind back, and attention to the rhythms of breath, body, sound or image.

The creativity of rhythm arises from the unimpededness of field. Once all rhythms have become superfine, field is present. Field is Presence, without an “I” to enjoy or observe it. There is nothing to be done here, except return often and know that it goes with one at all times. Beyond it lies the Unconditioned.

 “Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook?” God demanded of Job (Job 41:1), finally extracting from him an acknowledgment that Leviathan, like all the works of God, are beyond human creativity and manipulation. With that admission, Job became aware of the field from which the creative arises, and his suffering was lifted. If an unnamable, indefinable God or Spirit infuses all the worlds of experience, acknowledging this reality is the only true basis for spirituality.


Lucy Oliver has been a teacher and practitioner of meditation derived from the Western esoteric tradition for over forty years. Her book The Meditator’s Guidebook has been in print since 1996, and her new book, Tessellations: Patterns of Life and Death in the Company of a Master, is an intimate insider’s view of working within a Western oral tradition. She lives in London, and after studies in sacred symbolism at Oxford University, has developed Symbolic Encounters, a method of pointing out the symbolic roots in language on a path of knowledge (www.meaningbydesign.co.uk). She was a founding member of Saros Foundation for the Perpetuation of Knowledge and of High Peak Meditation, established in the United Kingdom in the 1970s.


Florence Nightingale’s Scientific Spirituality

Printed in the  Winter 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation:  Macrae, Janet"Florence Nightingale’s Scientific Spirituality" Quest 108:1, pg 20-23 

By Janet Macrae

Theosophical Society - Florence Nightingale’s Scientific Spirituality - Janet Macrae holds a doctorate in nursing research from New York University. She is the coeditor of Suggestions for Thought by Florence Nightingale and the author of Nursing as a Spiritual Practice: A Contemporary Application of Florence Nightingale’s Views.Florence Nightingale is best known as the Lady with the Lamp, who nursed British soldiers during the Crimean War (in which Britain and France fought against Russia, 1854–56). This image is not only factual but highly symbolic, for she brought an enlightened vision to the healthcare at the British military hospital. A pioneer in the use of statistics, she used her famous pie charts to show the reduction in the death rates from infectious diseases after a series of sanitary reforms had been implemented. (Reproductions and analyses of these charts can be found in Cohen.)

Unlike many of her contemporaries, Nightingale saw no conflict between science and spirituality. In her textbook Notes on Nursing she wrote: “God lays down certain physical laws. Upon His carrying out such laws depends our responsibility” (Nightingale, Notes, 25). Nightingale’s work in nursing and public health was based on a profound spiritual philosophy she had developed in her adolescence and early adulthood. It included three core concepts: (1) that the universe is regulated by scientific laws created by a higher intelligence; (2) that within all human beings there is a divine nature, an inner tendency towards goodness; and (3) that according to the law of evolution, all human beings will eventually actualize their divine potential.

 Nightingale was one of the most broadly educated women of the nineteenth century. Her father, a graduate of Cambridge and a liberal-minded Unitarian, gave her a classical education, which she furthered with lifelong studies in comparative religion, particularly mysticism, and statistical science. One of her closest friends was Benjamin Jowett, a classical scholar at Oxford whose translations of Plato’s dialogues are still used today. At his request, Nightingale helped him with his introductions and summaries, sending him many “hints” for revision. Jowett thanked her, with a touch of humor, in a letter dated April 30, 1874.

I cannot be too grateful to you for criticizing Plato . . . I have adopted nearly all your hints as far as I have gone (however many hints I might give you, my belief is that you would never adopt any of them). (Quinn and Prest, 257)

Nightingale discussed her spiritual views at length with Jowett, but expressed them most fully in an 829-page manuscript entitled Suggestions for Thought. She never published this work but, with encouragement from friends, agreed to have six copies privately printed. An edited edition with an introduction and commentaries was published by the University of Pennsylvania Press in 1994. All the quotations below, unless otherwise stated, are from this edition of Suggestions for Thought.

Nightingale looked upon spirituality, that is, the consciousness of a Higher Presence, as an evolutionary phenomenon. She wrote that all human beings are capable of profound spiritual experiences, because the highest level of human nature, its essence, is divine. The finest human achievements, such as religious and mystical experiences, creative insights and expressions, and acts of courage and compassion, all arise from this inner divine nature. In her view, spiritual development is a process of harmonizing the personal self with the inner God consciousness, thus “extending the limits of the divine in man” (117). Nightingale considered herself a Christian, a follower of Christ, because she felt he was perfectly harmonized with the divine nature. But, she believed, in the course of evolution all human beings will arrive at this same perfection: “Human consciousness is tending to become what God’s consciousness is—to become one with the consciousness of God” (58).

If Nightingale were alive today, she would feel supported in her views by the work of the Religious Experience Research Center at the University of Wales, which found similarities between the spiritual experiences of modern individuals and those of mystics throughout history (Cohen and Phipps).

In a way analogous to that of the mystics, who experienced an underlying divine order and unity, Nightingale saw patterns in her statistical tables that were invisible to her normal consciousness. To her, these patterns and connections revealed the mind of a Higher Intelligence who regulates the universe through law as opposed to caprice. She referred to the laws or organizing principles of the universe as the “thoughts of God.” Although Sir Edward Cook, Nightingale’s early biographer, referred to her as a “passionate statistician,” she could also be called a spiritual statistician.

In keeping with her scientific perspective, Nightingale did not accept any religious doctrine she felt was inconsistent with the concept of universal law. She was in full agreement with her friend Jowett, who wrote in Essays and Reviews that

any true doctrine of inspiration must conform to all well-ascertained facts of history or of science. The same fact cannot be true in religion when seen by the light of faith, and untrue in science when looked at through the medium of evidence or experiment. (Jowett, 348)

She was decidedly against the common practice of praying for miraculous intervention, on the grounds that, first, it is contrary to universal law, as all actions have consequences that cannot be arbitrarily dismissed, and second, it keeps human beings from exercising and developing their own faculties and powers.

It did strike me as odd sometimes that we should pray to be delivered “from plague, pestilence, and famine,” when all the common sewers ran into the Thames, and fevers haunted undrained land, and the districts which cholera would visit could be pointed out. I thought that cholera came that we might remove these causes, not pray that God would remove the cholera. (126)

From Nightingale’s perspective, every level of manifestation, including the spiritual, is regulated by divine law. As causes produce effects, spiritual progress cannot occur without the establishment of appropriate conditions. “To think that we can be good under any circumstances is like thinking that we may be healthy when we are living over a sewer” (123). One of her most pressing questions, asked throughout Suggestions for Thought, is this: how can life, in all its aspects, be knowledgeably organized so that it enhances spirituality, that is, human greatness? The God-given tendency toward spiritual integration is within everyone, but without support it will lie dormant.

 For centuries, religious orders have attempted to organize life around a spiritual purpose. Nightingale studied and personally investigated various orders, but was disappointed to find that they gave little support for the individual members’ unique talents, interests, and ambitions, and that the organizations had become insular, concerned mainly with upholding established dogma. From her point of view, spiritual revelation is an ongoing process. There are spiritual laws, as well as physical laws, that have yet to be discovered. Intellectual freedom and critical thinking are therefore essential for true spiritual growth. She wrote in a formal letter to the nursing students at St. Thomas’ Hospital in London:

“And may I say a thing from my own experience? No training is of any use, unless one can learn (1) to feel, and (2) to think things out for oneself” (Nightingale, “Letter,” 214).

 Although it is doubtful that Nightingale was influenced by Buddha’s teachings, her statement is consistent with his advice, as expressed by her contemporary Max Müller:      

Do not believe in what you have heard: do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations; do not believe in anything because it is rumored and spoken of by many; do not believe merely because the written statements of some old sage are produced; do not believe in conjectures; do not believe in that as truth to which you have become attached by habit; do not believe merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. After observation and analysis when it agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, than accept it and live up to it. (Müller, 114)

Nightingale respected the Bible as well as other sacred texts, but she felt they were all a mixture of truth and untruth. Religious beliefs, in her view, should be treated as working hypotheses and, when possible, tested by accurate observation and data analysis. For example, she found that the facts did not support the religious idea that poverty enhances spirituality. Her extensive nursing observations revealed to her that the poor were no more spiritual than the rich. Moreover, she observed in her statistical tables that poverty was associated with crime, disease, and high mortality rates. “Surely it is a mistake to recommend poverty,” she concluded (135).

From Nightingale’s point of view, spiritual development is an applied science. Intellectual effort, however valuable, is not enough, for she wrote that “unless you make a life which shall be the manifestation of your religion, it does not much signify what you believe” (116). Growing spiritually involves courageously accepting the consequences of one’s mistakes, learning from them, and making the appropriate changes. This is a challenging process, and Nightingale had no illusions about her society’s willingness to change.

Most people have not learnt any lesson from life at all—suffer as they may, they learn nothing . . . When they begin the new life in another world, they would do exactly the same thing . . . And not only individuals, but nations learn nothing. A man once said to me, “Oh! if I were to begin again, how different I would be.” But we very rarely hear this; on the contrary, we often hear people say, “I would have every moment of my life over again,” and they think it pretty and grateful to God to say so. (65)

In Notes on Nursing, Nightingale wrote about the importance of “ready and correct observation.” This is essential for the improvement of both physical and spiritual health, because we need to see what has to be changed. Our vision is hampered, Nightingale stated, by certain tendencies: habitual thinking, blindly accepting established ideas, not bothering to ask questions about seeming anomalies, taking the status quo for granted, and giving free rein to the imagination.

If she were designing educational programs today, Nightingale would probably include meditation methods such as mindfulness, which help one to observe reality, internal and external, from a less conditioned perspective. She wrote that we need to change our consciousness so that the hidden gradually becomes visible. Indeed, the ultimate goal is “to see as God sees, which is truth” (143).

 In the letter to the nursing students mentioned above, Nightingale wrote that a period of quietude in their own rooms, “a few minutes of calm thought to offer up the day to God,” was indispensable in the ever increasing hurry of life (Nightingale, “Letter,” 213). For her, this was the highest form of prayer: opening oneself to the inner divine nature. She wrote to Jowett that the closing prayer of Plato’s Phaedrus is unequaled by any collect in the service book: “Give me beauty in the inward soul, and may the outward and inward man be at one” (in Cook 2.32).

 Nightingale expanded on this idea in Suggestions for Thought, writing that work itself can become a form of prayer. Finding work for which one is suited, that holds one’s interest and love, and doing it “unto God” will deepen our alignment with the inner spirit. From her perspective, any type of work can serve a sacred purpose, for it is one’s intent or motivation that will transform it.      

Work your true work, and you will find His presence in yourself—i.e., the presence of those attributes, those qualities, that spirit, which is all we know of God. (143)

Although Nightingale was certainly realistic, she was also optimistic about humanity’s future. She had tremendous confidence in the universal laws, in the guidance of the inner divine spirit, and felt that in spite of all the difficulties on the way, humanity would become “the working out of God’s thought,” which is its destination.


Sources

Calabria, Michael D. “Spiritual Insights of Florence Nightingale.” The Quest 3, no. 2 (summer 1990): 66–74.

Calabria, Michael D., and Janet A. Macrae, eds. Suggestions for Thought by Florence Nightingale: Selections and Commentaries. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1994.

Cohen, I. Bernard, “Florence Nightingale.” Scientific American 250, no. 3 (March 1984): 128–37.

Cohen, J.M. and J.F. Phipps, The Common Experience: Signposts on the Path to Enlightenment. Wheaton: Theosophical Publishing House, 1992.

Cook, Sir Edward. The Life of Florence Nightingale. 2 vols. New York: Macmillan, 1913.

Jowett, Benjamin. “On the Interpretation of Scripture.” In Jowett, Essays and Reviews. London: John W. Parker and Son, 1860.

Müller, Max. Three Lectures on the Vedanta Philosophy. London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1894.

Nightingale, Florence. “Letter to the Probationer-Nurses in the Nightingale Fund School at St. Thomas’ Hospital and the Nurses Who Were Formally Trained There.” In Barbara Dossey, et al. Florence Nightingale Today: Healing, Leadership, Global Action. Silver Spring, Md.: American Nurses Association, 2005.

———. Notes on Nursing: What It Is and What It Is Not. New York: Dover, 1969 [1860].

Quinn, E.V. and J.M. Prest. Dear Miss Nightingale: A Selection of Benjamin Jowett’s Letters, 18601893. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987.

Woodham-Smith, Cecil. Florence Nightingale. New York: McGraw-Hill, 1951.


Janet Macrae holds a doctorate in nursing research from New York University. She is the coeditor of Suggestions for Thought by Florence Nightingale and the author of Nursing as a Spiritual Practice: A Contemporary Application of Florence Nightingale’s Views.


Yoga and the Future Science of Consciousness

Printed in the  Winter 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation:  Ravindra, Ravi"Yoga and the Future Science of Consciousness" Quest 108:1, pg 12-16 


By Ravi Ravindra

Who am I? Whence is this widespread cosmic flux?
These, the wise should inquire into diligently
            Soon—nay, now.
                                                                        —Mahopanishad 4.21

Theosophical Society - Yoga and the Future Science of Consciousness - Ravi Ravindra is an author and professor emeritus at Dalhousie University, in Halifax, Nova Scotia, where he served as a professor in comparative religion, philosophy, and physics. A lifetime member of the Theosophical Society, Ravi has taught many courses at the School of the Wisdom in Adyar and at the Krotona Institute in Ojai, California. Am I primarily a body that has, in response to accidental, material forces and laws, produced a mind with both self-consciousness and consciousness of other people and things? Or am I essentially something else—variously called spirit, soul, Self, Brahman, God, Buddha mind, the Very Person—who has taken on both body and mind as an instrument for action, love, and delight in the world? Does the body have consciousness, or does consciousness have the body? Can the body exist without consciousness, and can consciousness exist without bodily functions?

It is quite clear how yoga and other spiritual disciplines respond to these questions. One of the fundamental assertions in yoga is that the true knower is not the mind. The real knower—called purusha, the Very Person—knows through the mind, not with the mind (see Ravindra, “Yoga”). As William Blake wrote, “I see not with the eyes but through the eyes.”

At issue is a hierarchy of levels of being, and therefore of consciousness, within a person, as well as the nature of the person. For this reason, every spiritual tradition regards “Who am I?” as the fundamental human question. As a contemporary Zen master in Korea, Chulwoong Sunim, said to me, “Who am I?” is the most essential and comprehensive koan.

This is also a basic question about the nature of the cosmos, for we are not apart from it, nor can we have any certainty about the nature and validity of what we know about the cosmos without having some clarity of what in us knows and how it knows. The Psalmist asks, “When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; What is man, that thou art mindful of him?” (Psalm 8:3–4).

The responses of contemporary science lie on the other side. One heuristic principle in particular interferes with the knowledge of a radically different and higher level. This concept enters as the Copernican principle in astronomy and cosmology and as the principle of uniformitarianism in geology and biology: one has to do with space and the other with time. According to the former, the universe as a whole is homogeneous and isotropic: the same laws of physics operate everywhere. The latter principle essentially says that the same laws and forces have operated in the past as in the present.

Consequently, scientific laws are believed to apply universally, in all regions of space, and throughout all periods of time. By this thesis, the materials and laws on other planets and galaxies, and in past and future times, can be studied in terms of the laws, materials, and forces known to us now on earth.

Neither of these principles—however successful from a scientific point of view—has anything to say about levels of consciousness (Ravindra, “Experience”). But they have led to a denial of any radical difference, not only in terms of space and time, but also in terms of levels of being among humans. They also subtly preclude knowing anything above the level of the mind by doing away with the analogical and symbolic modes of thinking, according to which a fully developed person could internally mirror the various levels of the external cosmos. 

A Science of Consciousness Requires Transformed Scientists

When ancient and medieval thinkers in Europe, China, and India, in their sciences of alchemy, astronomy, and cosmology, spoke of different planets having different materials and different laws, they meant at least in part that various levels of being or consciousness have different laws.

From this perspective, higher consciousness cannot be understood in terms of, or by, a lower consciousness. The subtler and higher aspects of the cosmos can be understood only by the subtler and higher levels within humans. True knowledge is obtained by participation and fusion of the knower with the object of study, and the scientist is required to become higher in order to understand higher things. As St. Paul said, things of the mind can be understood by the mind; things of the spirit by the spirit. The ancient Indian texts say that only by becoming Brahman can one know Brahman. The Gandharva Tantra says that “no one who is not himself divine can successfully worship divinity.” For Parmenides and for Plotinus, “to be and to know are one and the same” (Parmenides, Diels frag. 185; Plotinus, Enneads, 6.9).

This has implications for any future science of higher consciousness that would hope to relate with what is real. Such a science would have to be esoteric, not in the sense of being an exclusive possession of some privileged group, but in speaking of qualities that are less obvious and more subtle. Such a science would both demand and assist the preparation, integration, and attunement of the scientist’s body, mind, and heart so that they would be able to participate in the vision revealed by higher consciousness. In the felicitous phrase of Meister Eckhart, one needs to be “fused and not confused.” “There, insight is naturally truth-bearing,” says Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras (1.48–49; 2.15; 3.54).

This preparation is needed in order to open the third eye, for the two familiar eyes do not correspond to the higher vision. It is only the third that can see the hidden Sun, for, as Plotinus says, “to any vision must be brought an eye adapted to what is to be seen, and having some likeness to it. Never did the eye see the sun unless it had first become sunlike, and never can the soul have vision of the First Beauty unless itself be beautiful” (Plotinus, Enneads, 1.6.9).

The important lesson here for any future science of consciousness is the importance of knowledge by identity. We cannot remain separate and detached if we wish to understand. Rather we need to participate in and be one with what we wish to understand. Thus Meister Eckhart: “Why does my eye recognize the sky, and why do not my feet recognize it? Because my eye is more akin to heaven than my feet. Therefore my soul must be divine if it is to recognize God” (in Klostermaier, 533n.). Similarly Goethe:

If the eye were not sensitive to the sun,
It could not perceive the sun.
If God’s own power did not lie within us,
How could the divine enchant us?

In the well-nigh universal traditional idea of correspondence between the human being and the cosmos—the microcosm-macrocosm homology—it is easily forgotten that this idea does not apply to every human being. Only the fully developed person (mahapurusha) is said to mirror the whole cosmos. Such developed persons are quite rare. The idea of inner levels of being (or of consciousness) is absolutely central, as is the question of “What is a person?” It is difficult to believe that we can dispense with spiritual disciplines for transforming human consciousness by developing concepts or instruments from lower levels of consciousness.

Nevertheless, there is a ubiquitous unwillingness to accept the need for radical transformation or subjecting oneself to a spiritual discipline. Even when the idea of transformation has some appeal, often one wishes to be transformed without changing—without a renunciation of what one now is and with an attitude of “Lord, save me while I stay as I am.”

Moreover, it is not possible to come to a higher state of consciousness without coming to a higher state of conscience. The general scholarly bias tends to be towards a study of various levels of consciousness—which are much more often spoken of in the Indic traditions—and not so much towards various levels of conscience, which are more frequently elaborated in the biblical traditions. It would be difficult to make much sense of Dante’s Divine Comedy without an appreciation of levels of conscience. In many languages, such as Spanish, French, and Sanskrit, the word for both conscience and consciousness is the same. This fact alone should alert us to the possibility of an intimate connection between the two. The awakening of conscience is the feeling preparation for an enhancement of consciousness.

The Future Was and Is

Time has a different sense and meaning in different states of consciousness, and an essential feature of high levels of consciousness is a sense of timelessness, or the simultaneity of all time. The remark of Jesus Christ, “the lamb slain from the foundation of the world” (Revelation 13:8), that “Before Abraham was, I AM” (John 8:58), indicates the freedom from time sequence that is characteristic of high states of consciousness. Such states correspond to levels which are “eternal” (which is not the same as “everlasting”: Ravindra and Murray). According to the Yoga Sutra (4:33), the sense of time as sequence enters when the level of consciousness falls from the highest state. That highest state—kaivalya—is one of freedom precisely because it is free of the constraints of time.

By contrast, all scientific measurements are in the realm of time: otherwise there could be no measurement. One root meaning of the word maya (usually translated illusion) in Sanskrit is to measure. If the Real is that which is perceived in the highest state of consciousness, that which can be measured cannot possibly be real. The Real is immeasurable, but it can be tasted, experienced, delighted in.

When it comes to an understanding of higher consciousness, the revelations of the great traditions do not pertain only to the past. Of course, the texts and individuals in the traditions are from the past, but their major concern is the Real, eternally and for ever, neither in the past nor in the future.

The First Person Universal

In our attempts to find objective knowledge (the great aspiration of science, the yoga of the West), we cannot eliminate the person. What is needed in fact is an enlargement of the person—to be freed from the merely personal and subjective to be more inclusive. In order to comprehend, one needs to be comprehensive, not as a horizontal extension of more and more knowledge but as a vertical transformation, in order to participate in the universal mind.

To return to the opening idea in this paper, although it is true that we humans know and think, the question is what or who thinks. During a conversation with the author, J. Krishnamurti said quite simply, “You know, sir, it occurs to me that K does not think at all. That’s strange. He just looks” (Ravindra, Krishnamurti, 77). If K was a short form of Krishnamurti, what is Krishnamurti a short form of? Of the entire cosmos? Not him alone, so, potentially, each one of us. If so, one looks and knows through thought rather than with thought.

            The yoga of the East is towards the realization of the First Person Universal. Only such a person can know without opposition and separation, freed from any desire to control or to manipulate. Then one loves what one knows.


Sources

Klostermaier, Klaus K.  A Survey of Hinduism. 2d ed. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994.

Ravindra, Ravi. “Experience and Experiment: A Critique of Modern Scientific Knowing.” Dalhousie Review 55 (1975–76): 655–74. Reprinted as chapter 7 of Ravindra, ed., Science and Spirit. New York: Paragon House, 1991.

———. Krishnamurti: Two Birds on One Tree. Wheaton: Quest, 1995.

———. “Yoga: the Royal Path to Freedom.” In K. Sivaraman, ed., Hindu Spirituality: Vedas through Vedanta. New York: Crossroad, 1989, 177–91. Also included in Ravindra, Yoga and the Teaching of Krishna. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1997.

Ravindra, Ravi, and P. Murray. “Is the Eternal Everlasting?” The Theosophist 117 (1996): 140–46. Also included in Ravindra, Yoga and the Teaching of Krishna, Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1997.


Ravi Ravindra is emeritus professor of physics at Dalhousie University in Halifax, Nova Scotia. He is the author of a number of books including The Pilgrim Soul: A Path to Transcending World Religions; The Gospel of John in the Light of Indian Mysticism; and most recently, The Bhagavad Gita: A Guide to Navigating the Battle of LifeHe was interviewed in Quest Magazine in Summer of 2018: A Great Soul: An Interview with Ravi Ravindra.

A version of this article was originally published in D. Lorimer, Chris Clarke, et al., eds., Wider Horizons: Explorations in Science and Human Experience (Fife, Scotland: Scientific and Medical Network, 1999): 186–92.


Theosophy and Science: Do They Conflict?

Printed in the  Winter 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation:  Savinainen, Antti"Theosophy and Science: Do They Conflict?" Quest 108:1, pg 12-16

By Antti Savinainen 

Theosophical Society - Theosophy and Science: Do They Conflict? - Antti Savinainen is a Finnish high-school physics instructor.  He was on the editorial team that compiled From Death to Rebirth: Teachings of the Finnish Sage Pekka Ervast The relationship between Theosophy and science is intriguing yet paradoxical. On the one hand, many key Theosophical teachings are metaphysical, which means that they cannot be scientifically tested. On the other hand, both H.P. Blavatsky and the Mahatma Letters discuss the science of their time. After all, the Second Object of the Theosophical Society is “to encourage the study of comparative religion, philosophy, and science.” Master Koot Hoomi even stated that “modern science is our best ally” (Chin and Barker, 168). My aim in this article is to determine to what extent some statements in early Theosophy and in the work of the Anthroposophist Rudolf Steiner stand up to scientific scrutiny. I will also briefly address two scientific lines of study that support Theosophical teachings.

To begin, let’s look at some key features of modern science. Science is not a collection of facts; it is a method and a process that are extremely effective in answering certain types of questions. Scientific theories and statements should be validated by evidence. There are different levels of certainty in science: we know some things almost for certain (though not with 100 percent certainty; this is possible only in logic and mathematics). For instance, the law of electromagnetic induction is virtually certain, since it has been tested and retested for well over a hundred years, and much of our current technology has been built on it. On the other hand, many exotic new ideas at the frontier of physics are not certain at all. Replication and the test of time will decide which ideas will survive. Scientific theories are formulated using methodological naturalism: hence scientific explanations cannot appeal to influences from invisible worlds (which are so eloquently described in Theosophical literature), spirits, gods, or any other metaphysical principles. It is clear that methodological naturalism has served science extremely well. 

HPB and Science in the Nineteenth Century

Let’s first discuss the concept of the atom. At the end of the nineteenth century, some physicists considered the existence of atoms as speculative, since no direct evidence was available (although the kinetic theory of gases employed the idea of atoms very successfully). HPB had interesting things to say about atoms in The Secret Doctrine. She proposed that “the atom is divisible, and must consist of particles, or of sub-atoms.” This statement is consistent with modern physics. However, she continues: “But infinite divisibility of atoms resolves matter into simple centers of force, i.e., precludes the possibility of conceiving matter as an objective substance” (Blavatsky, The Secret Doctrine, 1:519).

The modern view regards electrons and quarks, along with particles mediating the interactions within the atom, as elementary particles. This is not to say that quarks could not possibly consist of even smaller particles, but this infinite divisibility might be impossible to verify experimentally. The idea of the atom as a force center is more interesting from the modern point of view: particle physicists consider particles to be excitations of fields, seeing physical fields rather than particles as fundamental aspects of reality. Yet HPB made a grave mistake in claiming that “the atom belongs wholly to the domain of metaphysics . . . it can never be brought to the test of retort or balance” (Blavatsky, Secret Doctrine, 1:513). Actually individual atoms can be manipulated with modern technology, and by using laser cooling and ion traps, ionized atoms can be seen even with the naked eye.

Nineteenth-century physics had no doubt about the wave nature of light: the empirical evidence was unequivocal. This led physicists to discard Newton’s corpuscular theory of light. HPB offered another perspective from the occult point of view:

True, the corpuscular theory of old is rejected, and the undulatory [wave] theory has taken its place. But the question is, whether the latter is so firmly established as not to be liable to be dethroned as was its predecessor? . . .

Light, in one sense, is certainly as material as electricity itself is. (Blavatsky, The Secret Doctrine, 1:579–80)

These views are largely in line with the modern view of the wave-particle duality of light. It seems that HPB’s conception of light is validated by modern physics, at least to some extent. One might be tempted to proclaim that she was ahead of her time in her treatment of atoms and light.

HPB could, and did, meaningfully discuss and criticize nineteenth-century science in her writings. Nonetheless, it is crucial to take all of HPB’s statements on science into account. Some of her discussions reveal that she didn’t fully understand the theory of classical mechanics (for instance, see her take on the rotational motion of planets and the tails of comets: Blavatsky, Secret Doctrine, 1:539, 542–43).

Overall, although her discussion of science was quite insightful in her time, it has not stood the test of time. As one Finnish professor of cosmology has written, the scientific ideas in The Secret Doctrine have been shown to be “erroneous, irrelevant, or complete misunderstandings” (Enqvist, 243).

Science in the Mahatma Letters

    Theosophical Society - Master Koot Hoomi wrote of science in regard to Theosophy: "Modern science is our best ally."
    "Modern science is our best ally." wrote K.H. in the Mahatma Letters. This famous portrait, painted by the German artist Hermann Schmiechen in 1884, is said to have been guided by the hand of the Master himself.

To turn to the Mahatma Letters, Master KH wrote that there are other solar systems with planets beyond our own. Although there was no empirical evidence for exoplanets in the nineteenth century, about 4000 of them were detected as of March 30, 2019. Master KH makes a peculiar prediction concerning the exoplanets:

“Science will hear sounds from certain planets before she sees them. This is a prophecy” (Chin and Barker, 325.)

It is impossible for sound to propagate in interstellar space. On the other hand, there is another way to interpret the prophecy: perhaps KH was referring to radio waves, which were the means of detecting the first accepted observation of an exoplanet in 1992.

Other statements were not correct: for example, KH’s views on gravitational potential energy and conservation of energy reveal a lack of understanding of classical physics (Chin and Barker, 166–68).

Here are two more examples of incorrect statements about science:

On additional planets: “Not all of the Intra-mercurial Planets, . . . are yet discovered, though they are strongly suspected. We know that such exist and where they exist” (Chin and Barker, 325).

On meteors: “We all know, that the heat that the earth receives by radiation from the sun is at the utmost one third if not less of the amount received by her directly from the meteors.” (Chin and Barker, 319).

It is quite clear that the Mahatma Letters contain erroneous statements on science. 

Rudolf Steiner and Science

Rudolf Steiner (1861–1925) was a prolific spiritual teacher, first in the Theosophical movement, and later in the Anthroposophical Society, which he founded. One might say that he was a polymath in spiritual science and its applications into practice. Among other things, he was well acquainted with classical physics, which he had studied at an institute of technology. Again, however, some of his statements on science have been shown to be completely incorrect. Let’s consider two examples on special relativity, which is now supported by an overwhelming amount of empirical evidence:

There is the further requirement that the concept or idea must be in accordance with reality. Now, a very lengthy discussion would be required if I were to show you that the whole of the theory of relativity does not agree with reality, even though it is logical—wonderfully logical . . .

Another affirmation of Einstein’s is that even the dimension of a body is merely relative, and depends on the rapidity of movement. Thus, according to the Einstein theory, if a man moved through cosmic space with a certain velocity, he would not retain his bulk from front to back, but would become as thin as a sheet of paper. (Kinnes)

The first excerpt treats special relativity as an abstract theory with no connection to reality. It may have been reasonable to say this in 1920, but later evidence (from particle accelerators and geographical positioning systems) has unequivocally shown that special relativity accords very well with reality. The second excerpt shows that Steiner had not understood the implications of the Lorentz contraction. The point is that there is no change in the proper length. It may be that this was not well explained in the sources available to Steiner.

Radioactivity was discovered in 1896, but full understanding of the phenomenon was reached only much later, with the development of quantum theory. Steiner took a stance on it soon after it was discovered: in his opinion, radioactivity had existed in nature for only a few thousand years (Grant, 1996). Then in 1918, Steiner claimed that it had existed only since the Mystery of Golgotha (the death and resurrection of Christ), that is, about two thousand years (Meyer, 165). This view is clearly wrong. Moreover, a year before his death Steiner said that the earth is younger than 20 million years. This is demonstrably wrong: the evidence for a much older earth is overwhelming. 

Tension between Spiritual Teachings and Science

One could safely say that it is not wise to read the Bible as a textbook of science. I would recommend the same approach for other spiritual sources as well. The fact that there are incorrect statements about science in Theosophical and Anthroposophical sources does not surprise me, even though I think very highly of these as spiritual teachings in general. It is not plausible to assume that spiritual teachers would have infallible expertise in every possible scientific question from here to eternity. Actually, this interpretation is supported in Master KH’s own writing: “You may be, and most assuredly are our superiors in every branch of physical knowledge; in spiritual sciences we were, are and always will be your—Masters.” (Chin and Barker, 34).

The Anthroposophist Christopher Bamford has written about how even the initiates are inevitably children of their own time: “Everyone, even an ‘initiate,’ incarnates in a specific time and culture, so that no matter how deep the love and wisdom they are able to infuse into their historic moment, they are nevertheless inevitably of that moment and thus express its contingent strengths and weakness to a greater or lesser extent” (Bamford, introduction to Steiner, 11–12).

Bamford makes an excellent point. Refusing to recognize errors in the Theosophical lore risks making the movement frozen in time. Taken to the logical extreme, this would mean that no evolution of spiritual or scientific views is possible. 

Where Science and Theosophy Agree

So far I have addressed only topics in which spiritual teachings are at odds with validated scientific views. Nevertheless, some areas of scientific inquiry do support spiritual teachings and challenge the naturalistic framework. One such area is near-death experience (NDE), which has been studied for over forty years. There is now reliable evidence about the process of dying as experienced by people who have lost all vital signs. The best evidence comes from prospective and longitudinal studies, such as the study published in The Lancet by van Lommel et al. (2001). Perhaps the most striking similarity between the NDE studies and Theosophy is in life reviews. Here are short excerpts about this subject from Master KH and the Finnish Theosophist Pekka Ervast (1875–1934):

At the last moment, the whole life is reflected in our memory and emerges from all the forgotten nooks and corners picture after picture, one event after the other. The dying brain dislodges memory with a strong supreme impulse, and memory restores faithfully every impression entrusted to it during the period of the brain’s activity. (Chin and Barker, 326)

He does not live in his reminiscences as he did while being physically alive. He just watches the great play and judges it objectively, calling each thing—depending on its own quality—as good or bad, crime or merit, and so on. He remains in a great light, so to speak . . . In fact, the viewer is the personalized higher self. In death the solemn experience of memories is not due to the ordinary physical personality; instead, it is due to the higher self. (Marjanen et al., 40)

Both of these descriptions match very well with the findings of NDE research.

Furthermore, some people undergoing NDEs have been able to recall accurately what was going on when they were being resuscitated, whereas a control group with no NDEs were highly inaccurate in describing their situations (Sartori, 2008). Furthermore, Holden (2009) reviewed eighty-nine published case reports documenting observations during NDEs with out-of-body experiences: 92 percent of the case reports were considered completely accurate. (It does not come as a surprise that skeptics have been keen to provide naturalistic explanations, no matter how contrived, for these findings.)

The second area of scientific inquiry that is relevant here, is research on children who report past life memories. The late Professor Ian Stevenson started this research in the 1960s, and his work continues at the University of Virginia, whose Division of Perceptual Studies has a database of about 2500 cases in which children have provided information on their (alleged) past lives.

Typically children talk about their past lives when they are aged two to five. In some cases, researchers have verified many statements made by the children before their present and past-life families have been in contact. On the one hand, no “perfect” case has been found, which leaves some space for doubt. On the other hand, some cases are very convincing: for example, James Leininger’s (Tucker, 2016).

Finally, it may be worth noting that the time between incarnations in the investigated cases is usually only a few years or less, whereas according to Theosophical teachings it is typically ten centuries or more. From the Theosophical point of view, this discrepancy suggests that children’s reincarnations are an exception: these individuals have not gone through the lengthy process of various afterlife states. 

Conclusions

It is exciting that the scientific research on NDEs and children’s past life accounts coincide very well with teachings of the perennial wisdom. These lines of study provide a challenge to the materialistic paradigm of science: if consciousness is a mere product of the brain, there should be no conscious experiences during the time the brain is not functioning, and any notion of reincarnation is totally impossible. Yet cases like those described above do happen. The essence of science, like Theosophy, is seeking for truth. This means that if the data suggest that the naturalistic worldview is too narrow, it should be broadened in the spirit of “follow the data wherever it leads.” In this sense, science can indeed be “our best ally.”

Nonetheless, there clearly are statements about science in Theosophy and Anthroposophy that have not withstood the test of time. This fact should be taken seriously, and we should ask the following question: which teachings are just contingent products of the past?

Whatever the answer turns out to be, there are certainly many great teachings in Theosophy which are crucial in understanding life from a higher perspective, such as the laws of karma and reincarnation, the evolving higher Self, and highly ethical ideals, which inspire us to become truly compassionate human beings.


 

Sources

All emphasis in quotes is from the original.

Blavatsky. H.P. The Secret Doctrine. 3 vols. Wheaton: Quest, 1993.

Chin, Vicente Hao, Jr., and A. Trevor Barker, eds. The Mahatma Letters to A.P. Sinnett in Chronological Sequence. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1998.

Enqvist, K. Olemisen porteilla (“At the Gates of Being”). Helsinki: WSOY, 2011.

“Exoplanet.” Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Exoplanet#History_of_detection, accessed Sept. 30, 2019.

Grant, N. “Radioactivity in the History of the Earth.” Archetype: Journal of the Science Group of the Anthroposophical Society in Great Britain 2 (Sept. 1996): https://sciencegroup.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/sgnl96.pdf, accessed Sept. 27, 2019.

Holden, J. M. “Veridical Perception in Near-Death Experiences.” In J.M. Holden, B. Greyson, and D. James, eds. The Handbook of Near-Death Experiences: Thirty Years of Investigation. Santa Barbara, Calif.: Praeger/ABC-CLIO, 2009: 185–211.

Kinnes, Tormod. “Rudolf Steiner Looks at Relativity”: http://oaks.nvg.org/steiner-relativity.html accessed Sept. 27, 2019. Kinnes cites Steiner’s The Riddle of Humanity, lecture 10.

Marjanen, J., A. Savinainen, and J. Sorvali, eds. From Death to Rebirth: Teachings of the Finnish Sage Pekka Ervast. Helsinki: Literary Society of the Finnish Rosy Cross: 2017, https://teosofia.net/e-kirjat/Pekka_Ervast-From_Death_to_Rebirth.pdf

Meyer, T.H. Ludwig Polzer-Hoditz, A European: A Biography. Forest Row, U.K.: Temple Lodge, 2014.

Sartori, P. The Near-Death Experiences of Hospitalized Intensive Care Patients: A Five Year Clinical Study. Lewiston, N.Y.: Edwin Mellen Press, 2008.

Steiner, Rudolf. The Occult Movement in the Nineteenth Century. London: Rudolf Steiner Press, 1973.

Tucker, J. “The Case of James Leininger: An American Case of the Reincarnation Type.” Explore 12 (2016), 200–07.

University of Virginia, Department of Perceptual Studies website: https://med.virginia.edu/perceptual-studies/our-research/children-who-report-memories-of-previous-lives/media/, accessed Sept. 27, 2019.

Van Lommel, P., R. van Wees, V. Meyers, and I. Elfferich. “Near-Death Experience in Survivors of Cardiac Arrest: A Prospective Study in the Netherlands.” The Lancet 358 (2001), 2039–45.


Antti Savinainen, PhD, is a Finnish high-school physics instructor who teaches both the Finnish national syllabus and for the international baccalaureate. Since receiving his PhD in physics in 2004, he has been involved with physics education research as a researcher and thesis supervisor. He has been a member of the Finnish Rosy Cross, a part of the Finnish Theosophical movement, for thirty years. He was on the editorial team that compiled From Death to Rebirth: Teachings of the Finnish Sage Pekka Ervast (see link in Sources above).


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