Serving a Higher Purpose: Letters to the National Lodge

Printed in the Fall 2019 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Bruce, David ,"Serving a Higher Purpose: Letters to the National Lodge" Quest 107:4, pg 27-31

By David Bruce

Theosophical Society - David Bruce, National Secretary TSA.  David Bruce manages the National Lodge, a community formed in 1996 to provide study courses for members who are not near a lodge or study center.The National Lodge of the Theosophical Society in America is a community formed in 1996 to provide study courses for members who are not near a lodge or study center. Since 2003, TSA national secretary David Bruce has been in charge of managing the National Lodge. Part of his task has been to write cover letters for the material that is sent.

“By the end of 2005,” David writes, “I had tired of producing letters that were too frothy to be of any consequence . . . Moreover, I realized that breezy salutations, padded with pastoral sketches of squirrels frolicking on the campus grounds, did very little to promote the cause of Theosophy. So I began using the letters as a vehicle to discuss and promote Theosophical ideas.”

This year Quest Books has published a collection of David’s essays from these letters, entitled Serving a Higher Purpose: Theosophy for a Meaningful Life. The letters are short because, as David points out, “originally they were printed on a single page of TSA letterhead, thus limiting the number of words that could be employed.” Nonetheless, they cover a wide range of topics, from the Ring-Pass-Not to “Why Johnny Can’t Meditate.” Other subjects include patience, the need for secrecy, and the limited utility of language. The letters reprinted below are David’s own handpicked selection, highlighting some of his most important themes, including the literary power of H.P. Blavatsky’s writings and her work The Voice of the Silence.

Untimely Departures

Why is it that some great souls die so young, their all-too-brief appearance on the world stage resembling shooting stars, flashing momentarily against the dark abyss? John Keats died in his twenty-fifth year, but not before leaving behind a legacy that later established him as one of the leading poets of the English Romantic era; his “Ode on a Grecian Urn” remains popular to this day. Percy Bysshe Shelley, a contemporary of Keats, died at the age of twenty-nine; he authored Prometheus Unbound and is said to be one of the finest lyric poets of his time. Emily Brontë had time for only one novel before she died at age thirty, but her Wuthering Heights has had numerous film adaptations, from as early as 1920 to as recently as 2011. The Austrian composer Franz Schubert managed to write ten symphonies, eleven string quartets, and assorted chamber music before he died at thirty-one. And if anybody ever deserved the label of genius, it was Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, whose musical oeuvre was astonishing, covering virtually every genre of his day. He never saw his thirty-sixth birthday. The Dutch painter Johannes Vermeer passed away at forty-three, his output consisting of mostly domestic scenes; more than three hundred years after his death, one of Vermeer’s oil paintings inspired the movie Girl with a Pearl Earring, starring Colin Firth.

That the sojourn in this world of these extraordinary people ended much too soon is apparent to the aesthetic sensibility. A thoughtful person cannot help but wonder if their early demise was due to chance or to design. If the capricious hand of fate was at work, these early deaths may be considered to be nothing more than items on the list of life’s tragedies. But what if these truncated lives were preordained, so to speak? What if they were meant to be?

Mahatma Letter 68 obliquely refers to the idea that the soul comes into an incarnation “destined to live” a certain span of time, an idea that seems compatible with the thought that each incarnation has a purpose (Chin and Barker, 200). Could it be that the life of a Mozart or a Keats was intended to grace the stage of life not for more than a few years but just enough for them to bestow their sublime gifts to humanity? We can only speculate. If the early departure of such souls was one of chance, we see tragedy. But if a hidden purpose was at work, the meaning of which we are unable to divine, we behold a mystery. Fortunately, the fruit of their creativity remains, enriching our lives and uplifting our spirits.

Diversity, Not Orthodoxy

For students of Theosophy, familiarity with its doctrines is desirable—a doctrinaire approach to their study is not. These doctrines, or principles, have been enunciated differently by various commentators, each of whom may have some unique insight or perspective. The timeless truths of Theosophy are such that no one writer or person can claim to have the final word. As Michel de Montaigne said, “Truth and reason are common to everyone, and no more belong to the man who first spoke them than to the man who says them later” (Montaigne, 170).

In Theosophical circles it is often noted that none of us are experts, that we are all students. That seems to be a very healthy point of view, for it helps prevent our intellectual inquiry from devolving from one that is fresh and open minded to one that is rigid and predictable. Cicero once observed: “The authority of those who want to teach is often an obstacle to those who want to learn” (Cicero, 188). Nevertheless, it is generally recognized that some students have been at it longer than others and therefore possess a considerable storehouse of knowledge and wisdom. That is a very different thing from posing as an authority. And while it is quite legitimate to acknowledge authorities in the fields of medicine, engineering, jurisprudence, and other areas of secular knowledge, it is improper—even absurd—to assume the mantle of authority in the field of Theosophical inquiry.

Those who are widely read are likely to have a broader perspective than those who are not. These words from T.S. Eliot, though made in a different context, are relevant:

Wide reading is not valuable as a kind of hoarding, an accumulation of knowledge, or what sometimes is meant by the term “a well-stocked mind.” It is valuable because in the process of being affected by one powerful personality after another, we cease to be dominated by any one, or by any small number. (Eliot, 102) 

I think Eliot is making a very valuable statement. When we expose ourselves to different points of view, we are not as likely to allow our opinions to crystalize into a rigid certainty, which may occur when we become overly enamored with the thoughts of a single but influential writer. And consider these words of H.P. Blavatsky:

Orthodoxy in Theosophy is a thing neither possible nor desirable. It is diversity of opinion, within certain limits, that keeps the Theosophical Society a living and healthy body . . . Were it not . . . such healthy divergences would be impossible, and the Society would degenerate into a sect, in which a narrow and stereotyped creed would take the place of the living and breathing spirit of Truth and an ever growing Knowledge. (Blavatsky, Collected Writings, 9:243–44)

As a farmer’s soil is enriched when crops are rotated yearly, so too will our understanding of Theosophy be enriched if we expose our minds to diverse and varied thought.

The Poignant Poetry of H.P. Blavatsky

It has been said that the poetry in The Voice of the Silence is as exquisite as its paradoxes are startling. By poetry is meant the artful use of language to create poetic imagery. Such images are formed when two unlike objects sharing like attributes are compared, as in the case of a person who is said to be in the twilight of his career. What connects twilight and career are endings; twilight comes at the end of the day, and all careers inevitably come to an end. One example of poetic imagery found in The Voice of the Silence: “thy dark garments of illusion” (Voice of the Silence, 33), compares ignorance to a piece of dark (and possibly heavy) clothing; one serves to cover the body, the other to veil the mind.

In the preface to this work, Mme. Blavatsky says: “I have done my best to preserve the poetical beauty of language and imagery which characterize the original” (Voice of the Silence, 9, referring to The Book of the Golden Precepts, of which The Voice of the Silence is a translation).We should not overlook or discount the power of poetry in this work. To underscore this point, let us state a simple fact: The mind is subject to illusion—a statement that is as unremarkable and forgettable as it is undeniably true. But under HPB’s skillful pen, this trite maxim becomes something else:

For the mind is like a mirror; it gathers dust while it reflects. It needs the gentle breezes of Soul-Wisdom to brush away the dust of our illusions. (Voice of the Silence, 44–45)

Here the prejudices and biases of the human mind are compared to dust settling on a mirror, one that becomes less and less able to reflect the light, just as a conditioned mind is less able to perceive and express the truth without bias and distortion. The simple beauty of the language serves to elevate a pedestrian truth to a memorable statement of enduring inspiration. However, HPB takes the same truth—the mind is subject to illusion—and articulates it very differently in the following passage:

The moth attracted to the dazzling flame of thy night-lamp is doomed to perish in the viscid oil. The unwary soul that fails to grapple with the mocking demon of illusion, will return to earth the slave of Mara. (Voice of the Silence, 19) 

The change of tone is as unmistakable as a melody that is played first in a major, and then in a minor, key. The mood shifts from one of quiet reflection to one of stern admonishment; and HPB does this solely through her choice of imagery. From the contemplation of dust gathering quietly on a mirror, we now envision the stark image of dying moths entrapped in hot, viscid oil. The underlying truth is the same in both verses, but the dramatic effect created by poetic imagery could not be more dissimilar. Careful readers will take time to savor the powerful wordplay found in the Voice, thus enhancing their delight and enjoyment of this little masterpiece.

Paprika, Oregano, and Literary Condiments

Spiritual books from the East often employ a literary device in which the teachings are put forth ostensibly as a dialogue between a wise guru and an aspiring devotee. We find this to some extent in Shankaracharya’s Crest Jewel of Wisdom, but much more so in the Bhagavad Gita, where Arjuna and Krishna engage in an ongoing conversation. Similarly, The Voice of the Silence makes limited use of this convention by framing its teachings as a discussion between a humble but worthy disciple (lanoo) and an enlightened preceptor. An intriguing aspect of this stylistic practice is the use of nicknames to designate the pupil. Arjuna, for example, is referred to as “Pandava,” “Bharata,” “son of Kunti,” “slayer of demons,” “conqueror of sleep,” and many other appellations. Although the use of sobriquets may at first create confusion in the mind of the reader, their real purpose is to add clarity and depth by revealing something significant about the disciple or the transformative process.

The first fragment of the Voice is essentially a monologue in which the guru is speaking to the lanoo, whose presence is implied, not stated. I found this to be an interesting parallel to the practice of the ancient Pythagorean school, which required the student to listen in silence during the probationary period of training. But the tacit presence of the pupil does not prevent his guru from addressing him by various monikers, some of which are quite colorful, a habit that he continues throughout the second and third fragments.

All told, my audit of the Voice identified at least three dozen such monikers. Some paint him as a rank novice (beginner, ignorant disciple), while those used in the third fragment foretell higher levels of spiritual attainment (Arhan, Bodhisattva, Master of Samadhi). Some point to requisite qualities that the disciple must develop (fearless warrior, thou of patient heart), while others intimate the nature of trials that lie ahead (pursuer of truth, slayer of thy thoughts, perceiver of external shadows). The first-time reader may glide over these subtleties without notice, but they are there all the same. Some may be tempted to dismiss them as nothing more than ornamentation, as in the use of melodic trills in Baroque music. But I would prefer a different metaphor, likening them to the paprika on a macaroni and cheese casserole, the bay leaves in soup, or the oregano in spaghetti sauce―all of which augment the main course by adding subtle but deeply satisfying flavors. As ideas are said to be food for the mind, the analogy is hopefully not too far-fetched.

The Nuances of Light and Darkness

“This earth . . . is but the dismal entrance leading to the twilight that precedes the valley of true light” (Voice of the Silence, 15).

Blavatsky’s metaphoric use of light in The Voice of the Silence is delightfully unconventional. In verse 140, the aspirant is told to “step out from sunlight into shade” (Voice of the Silence, 53), but in verse 18 (cited above) the implication is that he should be moving out of darkness and into light. It is the same metaphor used to very different effect, a literary distinction that serves to enrich the aesthetic enjoyment of the reader. Also surprising is the metaphorical pairing of the words light with valley. Symbolically, valleys are often used to represent pain and suffering (the valley of the shadow of death), whereas mountains suggest triumph, illumination, or a wider perspective. Again, in verse 37 Blavatsky refers to the “Vale of Bliss” (Voice of the Silence, 20), rather than associating a transcendent state of consciousness with a mountain peak. But this is not without precedent. Consider this passage from the Tao Te Ching: “The Valley Spirit never dies . . . [It] is the base from which Heaven and Earth sprang. It is there within us all the while.” Authors have on occasion used valleys to symbolize safety, growth, warmth, fertility, and abundance.

Shifting from style to substance, let us note that some readers may recoil at the depiction of earthly life as being dismal. Yet one cannot deny the existence of suffering. Human existence involves an oscillation of peaks and valleys, pleasure and pain, weal and woe. While the suffering often cuts deeply, the moments of felicity and mirth are all too ephemeral. Having observed this sad state of affairs, Fyodor Dostoevsky allegedly confessed, “There is only one thing that I dread: not to be worthy of my sufferings” (quoted in Frankl, 86).

We do not always listen to our better angels. We see through a glass darkly. Aspiring to higher things, we quickly tire and succumb to the gravitational pull of personal desires. Yet if we struggle, it is because we are human. I am reminded of a quote attributed to Somerset Maugham: “Only a mediocre person is always at his best.” We will fall, but we get up again. To err is human, but to get up in the face of adversity is heroic. The journey from darkness through twilight to the true light is the one true journey, a journey of many lifetimes. Patience and devotion are our companions. If fears and doubts arise, we have the testimony of countless shamans and saints and sages affirming that it can be done. Faith and fortitude, too, are our companions. Follow the true light, dimly perceived at first, like the partial sunlight seen from the bottom of a well; but as we continue to put one step in front of the other its growing intensity and brilliance will erase these pervasive shadows that we now take for light.

St. Augustine’s Dilemma

The opening stanza of The Secret Doctrine stops the rational mind dead in its tracks: “Time was not, for it lay asleep in the Infinite Bosom of Duration.” The rational mind wants to ask, “How can there not be time?” But what is time? We generally understand it as past, present, and future—this threefold division corresponding to the way we experience the world. Upon closer examination, however, the concept of time proves to be one of the most illusory aspects of phenomenal existence.

Mme. Blavatsky was not the first to point this out. Consider this passage of Augustine’s in his Confessions:

For what is time? Who can even comprehend it in thought or put the answer into words? . . . How is it that there are the two times, past and future, when even the past is now no longer and the future is now not yet? But if the present were always present, and did not pass into past time, it obviously would not be time but eternity. (Augustine, 264)

The Secret Doctrine describes the present as “a mathematical line which divides that part of eternal duration which we call the future, from that part which we call the past” (Secret Doctrine, 1:37). A true mathematical line has no existence in this three-dimensional world. What you see on the draftsman’s schematic is only a reasonable representation of it, for a mathematical line exists only in the realm of ideas, not in the world of form. Let us return to the Confessions of Augustine:

If any fraction of time be conceived that cannot now be divided even into the most minute momentary point, this alone is what we may call time present. But this flies so rapidly from future to past that it cannot be extended by any delay. For if it is extended, it is then divided into past and future. But the present has no extension whatsoever. (Augustine, 266) 

The rational mind reels in bewilderment before all this. Perhaps it was Marcus Aurelius who put it best: “Every instant of time [is] a pinprick of eternity” (Aurelius, 40).

Celestial Scribes

The cast of actors entering and exiting the pages of The Secret Doctrine includes some of the most elusive and mysterious characters you could imagine. Take, for instance, the Lipikas. Who are they? And what do they do? The reader is provided with precious little information—just enough to arouse curiosity. Scholars explain that the word Lipika comes from the Sanskrit verbal root lip, meaning to write, to inscribe, to engrave, which is why the Lipikas are sometimes called Recorders, Scribes, or Annalists—names meant to be taken not literally but metaphorically. Theosophists commonly refer to them as the Lords of Karma.

According to the author of The Secret Doctrine, “These Divine Beings are connected with Karma . . . [They keep] a faithful record of every act, and even thought, of man, of all that was, is, or ever will be, in the phenomenal Universe. As said in Isis Unveiled (I, 343), this divine and unseen canvas is the Book of Life” (Secret Doctrine, 1:104).

Commentators provide additional insights. According to Annie Besant, “They hold the threads of destiny which each man has woven, and guide the reincarnating man to the environment determined by his past” (Besant, 225).Theosophist Gottfried de Purucker says, “They are infinitely more impersonal and more automatic in their action than are the recorders in a court of law, setting down word by word, act by act, whatever takes place in the cosmic courtroom; and their record is infinitely accurate and just. There is no personal equation at all” (de Purucker, 2:400−01). Another Theosophical writer, Geoffrey Barborka, has this to say: “Each one may add to his own ‘Book of Life.’ In fact, everyone is doing so, whether a person is aware of it or not” (Barborka, 420).

One more thing bears mention. No human word or deed goes unnoticed by these Cosmic Scribes. In human affairs, people sometimes manage to evade accountability for their actions in the court of public opinion, or in the realm of jurisprudence, but not so with karma. For the Lipikas never take a vacation; they are on the job, so to speak, day and night. At the dawn of a new manvantara, they are the first to appear; and as Universal Day yields to Universal Night, they are the last ones there to turn off the lights.

The Cosmic Ladder of Life

One of the more fascinating themes in The Secret Doctrine is that of hierarchy. The English language confines the word hierarchy mainly to ecclesiastical matters, and so the general public remains unaware of its occult denotations. Because it is associated in the public mind with priestly matters, the term carries certain negative connotations—rigidity, dominance, and exploitation, for instance. But the esoteric meaning of hierarchy as presented in The Secret Doctrine inspires awe and wonder, revealing a hidden natural order involving various planes, or levels, of existence as well as a vast multitude of beings. Geoffrey Barborka describes this panoramic view as the cosmic ladder of life (Barborka, 57).

The strange-sounding names of the hierarchical beings appearing on the pages of Mme. Blavatsky’s magnum opus read like the cast of a Federico Fellini film: Architects, Builders, and Silent Watchers; Kumaras and Pitris and Agnishvattas; Elementals, Asuras, and Dhyan-Chohans; Lipikas and Lahs and Manasaputras. All this is likely to leave the first-time reader feeling as bewildered as a Norwegian cook who stumbles into an Indian spice shop. But with continued study, the names grow familiar, and their respective roles come into focus. It gradually becomes clear that each planetary or celestial being has its special role to play in the greater economy of the divine plan.

Some may find the idea of a cosmic hierarchy to be fanciful, if not preposterous. But is it really? Consider, for example, a large corporation employing tens of thousands of people. It is structured so that its manifold operations—finance and accounting, advertising and marketing, engineering and production, research and development—are all set up as separate departments run by competent managers, whose business it is to see that each unit carries out its part smoothly and efficiently. We live in an intelligent and purposeful universe. “As above, so below,” says the Hermetic axiom. If a mere human enterprise recognizes the value of organization, should we expect any less of the universe?


Sources

Saint Augustine. Confessions. Translated by Albert C. Outler. Nashville, Tenn.: Thomas Nelson, 1999.

Aurelius, Marcus. Meditations. Translated by A.S.L. Farquharson. New York: Knopf, 1992.

Barborka, Geoffrey. The Divine Plan. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1961.

Besant, Annie. The Ancient Wisdom. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1986.

Blavatsky, H.P. Collected Writings. 15 vols. Edited by Boris de Zirkoff. Wheaton: Theosophical Publishing House, 1960–91.

———. The Secret Doctrine. 2 vols. Wheaton: Quest, 1993.

———. The Voice of the Silence. Adyar: Theosophical Publishing House, 1982.

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

Cicero. Cicero on the Good Life. Translated by Michael Grant. London: Folio Society, 2003.

Eliot, T.S. Selected Prose of T. S. Eliot. New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1975.

Frankl, Viktor E. Man’s Search for Meaning. Boston: Beacon, 2006.

Montaigne, Michel de. The Complete Essays. Translated by Donald M. Frame. London: Penguin, 1993.

Purucker, Gottfried de. Dialogues of Gottfried de Purucker. Edited by Arthur L. Conger. 3 vols. Covina, Calif.: Theosophical University Press, 1948.

David Bruce is national secretary of the Theosophical Society in America.


The Dawn of Civilization: An Esoteric Account of the First Three Root Races

Printed in the Fall 2019 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Sender, Pablo ,"The Dawn of Civilization: An Esoteric Account of the First Three Root Races" Quest 107:4, pg 12-13

By Pablo Sender

Theosophical Society - Pablo Sender became a member of the Theosophical Society in his native Argentina and has presented Theosophical lectures, seminars, and classes around the world.The model for the evolution of humanity presented by the esoteric philosophy is far more complex than the modern scientific views on the subject. In The Secret Doctrine, H.P. Blavatsky states that humanity develops through seven great evolutionary cycles, called “Root Races,” which give rise to seven consecutive human civilizations.

Each of these humanities developed on different continents. At the end of each Root Race, there was a global geological upheaval that changed the face of the earth. Because of these continental changes, the vast majority of the remains from previous Root Races are currently under the oceans.

According to The Secret Doctrine, the First Root Race, nonphysical beings lacking in consciousness, began to develop over 1.5 billion years ago. The first self-conscious humanity resembling what we know today was the Third Root Race, which started over 18 million years ago. The anthropological records, historic and even prehistoric, belong to our current Root Race, which is the fifth (out of seven).

The esoteric story of human civilization is too vast to be covered in one article. Here we will limit ourselves to exploring the genesis of humanity and the beginning of civilization, according to The Secret Doctrine.

Assisted Evolution

Modern science explains the emergence of humankind as a result of chance chemical events and random mutations. The odds of this occurrence are so slim that scientists regard the evolution of humanity as nothing short of a miracle. Theosophical teachings, by contrast, say that this “miracle” is really the orderly work of natural forces with the assistance of intelligent beings. These intelligences guiding the process of evolution have been recognized in all religious traditions of the past. They were conceived of as gods, angels, devas, and so forth.

Unfortunately, these celestial beings have frequently been anthropomorphized in such a way that makes them appear as fanciful inventions. Perhaps this is inevitable, because we cannot really understand the nature of nonhuman intelligences. Even the Stanzas of The Secret Doctrine use mythological imagery and allegorical language to explain the origins and evolution of human beings.

Although accepting the participation of celestial beings, esoteric philosophy does not support a creationist view. It agrees with the evolutionary theory, extending it beyond the physical world into the intellectual and spiritual realms. This evolution, however, is not blind, random, or purposeless. It has clear aims, and the intelligent beings who guide it are not perfect, but are themselves evolving.

The First Root Race

According to The Secret Doctrine, once the earth was ready to hold human life, two groups of celestial beings were called upon to assist in the “creation” of man—the Lords of the Moon and the Lords of the Flame: “Bring forth men of your nature. Give their spirits a subtle form. Mother Earth will build a material covering” (Secret Doctrine, 2.75).

Their task was to provide the “spirits” (human monads) with an astral body that nature could use as a model to slowly start building a physical human form. The seven Lords of the Moon (seven hierarchies or groups, not seven individual celestial beings) responded to the call, but the Lords of the Flame remained behind, refusing to engage in the work of creation. They claimed that they were too spiritual and pure and furthermore did not have creative powers to build material forms. The Lords of the Moon, devas of a less spiritual nature, went to their allotted lands on seven different portions of the earth, ready to create the seven primordial groups of human beings. They emanated astral forms out of their own nonphysical bodies, which became the First Root Race of humanity—ethereal and gigantic. The rudimentary form (not yet a body proper) of the early humans was a mere shadow, and these beings were regarded as a “phantom race.” The astral forms were sexless—they were not born from parents but reproduced themselves by fission. For this reason, the First Root Race was called “the self-born.” The Lords of the Moon were capable of producing astral forms, but they were not able to give minds to the members of this race. The protohumanity of this Root Race was essentially an embryonic stage, devoid of understanding.

Being nonphysical, the forms could not be affected by fire, water, or other natural elements. This rendered them impervious to the harsh conditions of the planet at the time. In fact, the phantom race could not die—they lasted for the whole duration of their evolutionary cycle, being finally assimilated to the bodies of the next Root Race.

The First Root Race developed on the “primordial land,” which is said to be a region destined to last from the beginning to the end of the evolution on this Earth, surviving all cataclysms and continental changes that will take place in this evolutionary Round. The first continent is called the “Imperishable Sacred Land.” Blavatsky wrote:

Of this mysterious and sacred land very little can be said, except, perhaps, according to a poetical expression in one of the Commentaries, that the “pole-star has its watchful eye upon it, from the dawn to the close of the twilight of “a day” of the great breath. (Secret Doctrine, 2.6)

This primordial land was located at what was the North Pole of 1.5 billion years ago. This was not our current North Pole, under which there is no land. As The Secret Doctrine explains, the inclination of the earth’s axis has shifted since then, so this imperishable sacred land would be today somewhere in the northern hemisphere.

The Second Root Race

As the astral forms of the First Root Race floated around, the “spirit of the Earth” (referring to the elemental and nature spirits) was busy at work developing the bodies of the next Root Race. Using the astral forms as a template, nature built a denser, though still ethereal, covering around them. The original astral forms became now a subtler counterpart of the newly developed ethereal bodies of the Second Root Race. This humanity was called “the boneless,” indicating that it was not yet a physical race. They were “the most heterogeneous gigantic semi-human monsters—the first attempts of material nature at building human bodies” (Secret Doctrine, 2.138). These “semi-humans” showed an instinctive intelligence, but they were still devoid of mind and self-consciousness. They too reproduced asexually, using a method of “budding and expansion.” (Today there are some simple animals, such as flatworms, which reproduce by budding, although this process is mostly associated with bacteria and yeast.)

The egg-shaped aura surrounding the ethereal body extruded a small germ from itself, which would feed from its parent and expand until it gradually detached itself from its originator. In the later part of this Root Race, the “buds” began to look like drops of sweat—“a kind of exudation of moisture or vital fluid.” (Secret Doctrine, 2.132). For this reason, the late second Race was called “the sweat-born.”

The land on which this Root Race developed was called by Blavatsky “Hyperborea,” in reference to the mythical perfect land of the Greeks:

The “Hyperborean” will be the name chosen for the Second Continent, the land which stretched out its promontories southward and westward from the North Pole to receive the Second Race, and comprised the whole of what is now known as Northern Asia. . . . It was a real Continent, a bona fide land which knew no winter in those early days. (Secret Doctrine, 2.7)

During this Root Race, the Earth too became more “solid,” producing more dry lands. This caused a great displacement of the waters of oceans, which changed their beds. The ethereal bodies of this Root Race were still impervious to the weather, although not completely to the physical elements. In fact, the majority of this race was eventually destroyed by the water displaced in this first universal flood (of which there were several).

The Third Root Race

At the beginning of the next Root Race, the small “sweat drops” started to change. They grew, becoming hard and round, eventually turning into eggs, out of which individuals hatched. The Third Root Race, now known as the “egg-born,” was approaching a fully physical form—a race “with bones.” During the transition from the sweat-born to the egg-born, the asexual progeny became hermaphroditic, each body able to produce eggs on its own. By the middle of the Third Root Race, the eggs “began to give birth, gradually and almost imperceptibly in their evolutionary development, first, to Beings in which one sex predominated over the other, and, finally, to distinct men and women” (Secret Doctrine, 2.132). At this stage, reproduction began to take sexual form. This change, of course, took millions of years, but by the end, human beings were fully physical, born from the wombs of their mothers as male or female. They were again gigantic, adapted to the general conditions and surroundings of the earth at the time. Legends of giant races are present in most ancient mythologies. Still, this middle Third Root Race was the first one that resembled what we call “human,” and was now ready for the crucial step.

The Advent of Self-Consciousness

About 18 million years ago, after humanity developed a physical body, the time came for the “completion” of the human being—the awakening of mind and self-consciousness. According to the esoteric philosophy, this milestone could not be reached by the efforts of nature alone. It required the assistance of those celestial beings who had previously refused to involve themselves in the creation of the early human forms—the Lords of the Flame. While these celestial beings could not help with physical evolution, they were able to do what the Lords of the Moon could not—stimulate the intellectual evolution of humanity by ensouling the bodies.

The terminology about these celestial beings in The Secret Doctrine is confusing. For the purpose of this article, we will simplify and state that there were two groups of beings under the “Lords of the Flame.” One is the “Lords of Wisdom”—celestial beings that had finished their human evolution in previous cycles and could now be regarded as “gods.” The other group, the “Sons of Wisdom,” are celestial beings of various degrees of evolution who are in the process of going through the human experience. These Sons of Wisdom are our souls.

The Secret Doctrine says that some among the Sons of Wisdom—those who had attained a higher level of evolution in previous cycles—incarnated in the human forms and became spiritual sages (Arhats) after a few rebirths. In Blavatsky’s words:

The Sons of Wisdom, or the spiritual Dhyanis, had become “intellectual” through their contact with matter, because they had already reached, during previous cycles of incarnation, that degree of intellect which enabled them to become independent and self-conscious entities, on this plane of matter. They were reborn only by reason of Karmic effects. They entered those who were “ready,” and [eventually] became the Arhats, or sages, alluded to above. (Secret Doctrine, 2.167)

Most Sons of Wisdom, however, were only able to send sparks of themselves into the bodies. Although this was enough to awaken the mind of the early humans, they remained destitute of the higher, enlightened knowledge already attained by the group mentioned above. These individuals constitute the average humanity of today, which is in the process of acquiring wisdom by passing through the different Root Races.

Lastly, a prideful group of Sons of Wisdom, on seeing the primitive and mindless bodies they had to incarnate into, delayed their action. “We can choose . . . we have wisdom,” they said (Secret Doctrine, 2.161), and decided to wait for the bodies to evolve further before getting involved with them. But this was a mistake—the forms left unawakened turned into a mindless, semianimal race, called the “narrow-brained.”

This third group of Sons of Wisdom, who decided to wait, had hoped that the bodies would keep on evolving in the meantime. However, physical evolution had done the best it could under the guidance of the Lords of the Moon, after which they retired, passing on the responsibility of evolution to the Sons of Wisdom. These deserted bodies, instead of evolving, began to degenerate. The narrow-brained beings started to reproduce with animals and gave birth to a monstrous “race of crooked, red-hair-covered monsters, going on all fours” (Secret Doctrine, 2.184). Seeing this, the Sons of Wisdom decided to incarnate before the situation got worse, but they had to do so in forms that had been desecrated, thus becoming a backward race. The karmic effects of the “sin of the mindless” fell upon those Sons of Wisdom “who failed to do by them their Karmic duty” (Secret Doctrine, 2.185).

Meanwhile, quite apart from this, a hierarchy of “gods”—the Lords of Wisdom—had created their own human forms by means of kriya-shakti (thought power) and incarnated among the Third Root Race. As we will see later, they would become the rulers and teachers of the early humanity.

In summary, esoteric philosophy postulates that there were seven groups of souls of varying degrees of evolution incarnating in early humanity—from those who had almost completed their human journey in previous cycles to those who were newly developed souls on this evolutionary Round. This is an important concept. If all souls inhabiting human bodies were created equal just before incarnating, it is difficult to explain the mysteries of evil and inequalities in social, moral, intellectual, and spiritual capacities among human beings. According to Blavatsky, the fact that there was a difference in the maturity or “age” of the human souls from the very beginning “solves the secret of the subsequent inequalities of intellectual capacity, and gives a logical explanation to the incomprehensible Karmic course” (Secret Doctrine, 2.161).

The mind of the late Third Root Race was young and innocent, and humans were more spiritual than intellectual. They developed a kind of nature-sound language to communicate with each other, but the essence of the communication between individuals was from mind to mind, by means of the spiritual “third eye” of which they were endowed. Because of this, the Third Root Race could perceive intuitively their connection with nature and the divine. In Blavatsky’s words:

No sooner had the mental eye of man been opened to understanding, than the Third Race felt itself one with the ever-present as the ever to be unknown and invisible all, the One Universal Deity. Endowed with divine powers, and feeling in himself his inner God, each felt he was a Man-God in his nature, though an animal in his physical Self. (Secret Doctrine, 2.272)

Early Civilization

The continent of the Third Root Race was located in the area of the Pacific Ocean. Blavatsky wrote:

The third Continent, we propose to call “Lemuria” . . . extended from Madagascar to Ceylon and Sumatra. It included some portions of what is now Africa; but otherwise this gigantic Continent, which stretched from the Indian ocean to Australia, has now wholly disappeared beneath the waters of the Pacific, leaving here and there only some of its highland tops which are now islands. (Secret Doctrine, 2.7).

Before the awakening of the mind, weather had not been an issue, since “an eternal spring reigned over the whole globe” (Secret Doctrine, 2.135). Toward the end of this Root Race, however, there was a shift in the earth’s axis, and the world began to experience a change of seasons. Humanity found itself expelled from “paradise” and had to learn to survive in the new and hostile conditions. However, according to Theosophical teachings, this child humanity did not have to learn how to survive by the slow method of trial and error, as modern science proposes.

After (the separation [of sexes]) . . . the eternal spring became constant change and seasons succeeded. Cold forced men to build shelters and devise clothing. Then man appealed to the superior Fathers (the higher gods or angels) . . . Divine Kings descended and taught men sciences and arts, for man could live no longer in the first land (Adi-Varsha, the Eden of the first Races), which had turned into a white frozen corpse. (Secret Doctrine, 2.201)

At this juncture, the Lords of Wisdom stepped in and became the leaders and teachers of humankind. They are remembered in many traditions as the gods who were the “Divine Rulers” during the golden age of humanity. As mentioned before, the Third Root Race did not have a formal religion; but they had a natural childlike devotion for their Divine Kings, who guided and taught them:

At the dawn of consciousness, the man of the Third Root-Race had no beliefs that could be called religion. . . . But if the term is to be defined as the binding together of the masses in one form of reverence paid to those we feel higher than ourselves, of piety—as a feeling expressed by a child toward a loved parent—then even the earliest Lemurians had a religion—and a most beautiful one. (Secret Doctrine, 2.272)

It was the Golden Age, when

the gods walked the earth, and mixed freely with the mortals . . .

These gods incarnate taught humanity the rudiments of sciences and arts, and helped them build their first cities:

Under the guidance of their divine Rulers [they] built large cities, cultivated arts and sciences, and knew astronomy, architecture and mathematics to perfection. (Secret Doctrine, 2.273, 317)

But all this happened gradually. Many hundreds of thousands of years after the separation of sexes elapsed before the primeval civilization started. The Lemurians built their first cities out of stone and lava. Eventually, they were able to build huge cities using rare earths, metals, lava, marble, and black stones. According to Blavatsky, the first large cities appeared on that region of the Lemurian continent which is now known as the island of Madagascar (Secret Doctrine, 2.317). 

Conclusion

How are we to take this narrative? Is it supposed to describe real facts, or is it allegorical? Blavatsky admitted that, “to some extent . . . even the esoteric teaching is allegorical,” because the endeavor to present processes taking place on nonphysical planes “requires the use of symbols cast in an intelligible form” (Secret Doctrine, 2.81). That being said, Blavatsky claims that the story offered in The Secret Doctrine describes what actually happened.

If so, how far does this account agree with the findings of modern science? No remains could be found of the first two Root Races, which were nonphysical. But when we come to statements about the physical races (third and fourth), one of the difficulties in judging their veracity is that these races inhabited areas that are not easily accessible to modern anthropological research. Blavatsky and her teachers pointed out that the lack of remains belonging to the giant races can be explained by the fact that the greater part of the continents of Lemuria and Atlantis are now under the oceans. In the words of Mahatma Koot Hoomi:

No doubt your geologists are very learned; but why not bear in mind that . . . there may be, hidden deep in the fathomless, or rather unfathomed ocean beds, other, and far older continents whose stratums have never been geologically explored; and that they may some day upset entirely their present theories. (Chin and Barker, 310)

Anthropological studies do not yet present a reliable picture of human evolution. We learn every year of new findings that modify previously held theories, a number of them pointing in the direction of claims made in The Secret Doctrine. The time may come when clear evidence surfaces but until then, the esoteric and scientific views walk on different paths.


Sources

Emphasis in quotes is from the original.

Blavatsky, H.P. The Secret Doctrine. Two volumes. Wheaton: Quest, 1993.

Chin, Vicente Hao, Jr., and A.T. Barker. The Mahatma Letters in Chronological Sequence. Adyar, India: Theosophical Publishing House, 1998.


Pablo Sender PhD, has been a member of the Theosophical Society since 1996 and has presented Theosophical lectures, seminars, and classes around the world. He lives at the Krotona Institute of Theosophy in Ojai, California. He is the author of Evolution of the Higher Consciousness, and his articles have been published in Theosophical journals in several languages. Learn more at his website: www.pablosender.com.


Viewpoint: The Importance of Karma

Printed in the Summer 2019 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Hebert, Barbara ,"Viewpoint: The Importance of Karma" Quest 107:3, pg 12-13

Barbara Hebert, National President

Theosophical Society - Barbara B. Hebert currently serves as president of the Theosophical Society in America.  She has been a mental health practitioner and educator for many years.When we consider tragedy and loss in light of the perennial wisdom, it is almost impossible to avoid a discussion regarding karma. During the production of this issue, I had a conversation with Quest editor Richard Smoley about the Theosophical perspective on karma. As is usual with Richard, his statements make one think deeply; not surprisingly, then, our conversation elicited opportunities for me to contemplate my own personal perspective.

Before the coming of the Theosophical Society, very few people in the West had ever heard the word karma, and it is likely that even fewer understood its meaning. In the past 130+ years, much has changed. Most individuals living in the West have heard the term, and many have some basic understanding of it. We find memes and cartoons regarding karma, including references to instant karma. We hear it referred to in various terms: the Law of Cause and Effect; the Law of Action and Reaction; Universal Law; the Law of Harmony; the Law of Self-Created Destiny; and so on. Numerous books, articles, and talks about it can be found in both the East and the West, from both spiritual and pragmatic perspectives; some have been shallow, others very deep. But not everyone agrees about what karma is.

Below are a few statements about karma with which many esotericists would agree:

  •  It is a universal principle that is inherent in the universe.
  •  It is impersonal and inexorable.
  •  Every action has a reaction.
  •  Karma is inextricably linked to reincarnation.

In all honesty, I am not sure that we have much more of an understanding of karma than these few points. We frequently speak as if we understand karma in more depth, but do we? Is there a knowing or understanding that comes from deep inside of ourselves, or are we just repeating what we have heard and read? These questions elicit a need for self-introspection, listening to the still voice within.

At the end of the Theosophical classic Light on the Path, Mabel Collins presents an “Essay on Karma.” In it she tells us that the operations of karma cannot be fully understood “until the disciple has reached the point at which they no longer affect” him or her. Given this statement, we can recognize that it is not possible to grasp the entire concept at this point in our spiritual evolution; however, if we contemplate karma deeply, we may have some small intuitive glimpse of its workings.

Even without a thorough understanding of the teaching, we can use the four statements above to help us in our daily lives. These assertions provide us with direction and understanding as we consider karma in relation to tragedy and loss.

The belief that karma is a principle inherent in the universe implies that there is order in the universe. It implies that there is some sort of cosmic intelligence that has created a structure, and that the incidents that occur are not random, chaotic, or happenstance. Karma is a principle or law, just as gravity is a principle or law. Gravity is neither good nor bad—it simply is. Karma is neither good nor bad—it simply is.

Taking these statements further, we can look at the second assertion: karma is impersonal and inexorable. This sounds somewhat ominous, doesn’t it? However, gravity is also impersonal and inexorable, and we don’t usually perceive it as ominous. Gravity doesn’t decide, “I’m going to make that person fall but not that person.” Gravity always works the same way, without fail. Karma works the same way.

In light of the third assertion—“for every action, there is a reaction”—we have H.P. Blavatsky’s words in The Key to Theosophy: “Karma is the unerring law which adjusts effect to cause, on the physical, mental and spiritual planes of being. As no cause remains without its due effect from greatest to least, from a cosmic disturbance down to the movement of your hand, and as like produces like, Karma is that unseen and unknown law which adjusts wisely, intelligently and equitably each effect to its cause, tracing the latter back to its producer” (emphasis Blavatsky’s).

HPB tells us that karma is universal harmony. She uses the metaphor of a tree to describe it, saying that when the limb of a tree is bent forcibly, it rebounds accordingly. As Theosophists, we know that our every thought, word, or act causes a wave of energy, which has a rebounding response. This is the way in which the universe maintains equilibrium. For every cause, there will be an effect.

The fourth statement—“karma is inextricably linked to reincarnation”—takes us into a different arena. Theosophical literature talks about the evolution of the soul. It says that through a series of incarnations, we continue to learn and grow spiritually until that point in time when we become totally human. As John Algeo, former president of the TSA, writes, “The purpose of our many lives is to further the evolutionary development of our minds and souls.” We are expanding our consciousness as we live each life, and the goal is to further this evolutionary development, to become fully human, and in doing so to recognize the unity of all beings. Expanding our consciousness often involves some degree of pain or disruption. Looking back on our lives, we may ask ourselves: when have I learned or grown the most? Inevitably the answer involves the passage through a very difficult time, frequently one of loss and tragedy.

Blavatsky put this concept in a different way. In her pamphlet “Reincarnation and Karma,” found on the Theosophy World website, she talks about this growth:

The inner being must continually burst through its confining shell or encasement, and such a disruption must also be accompanied by pain, not physical but mental and intellectual.

And this is how it is in the course of our lives. The trouble that comes upon us is always just the one we feel to be the hardest that could possibly happen—it is always the one thing we feel we cannot possibly bear. If we look at it from a wider point of view, we shall see that we are trying to burst through our shell at its one vulnerable point; that our growth, to be real growth, . . . must progress evenly throughout, just as the body of a child grows, not first the head and then a hand, followed perhaps by a leg, but in all directions at once, regularly and imperceptibly. [Humanity’s] tendency is to cultivate each part separately, neglecting the others in the meantime—every crushing pain is caused by the expansion of some neglected part, which expansion is rendered more difficult by the effects of the cultivation bestowed elsewhere.

To put this discussion in a more practical light, let’s look at an example. Joe is trimming large limbs from the trees in his yard using a chain saw. He loses his balance and cuts his leg deeply. Does it matter if this incident is due to karma? No! It matters that Joe receive the medical attention needed to save his leg and possibly save his life. To take this metaphor a step further, let’s assume that Joe’s life is saved, but the muscles in his leg are so badly damaged that he may never be able to use it. Again, we may quickly assume that this terrible injury is due to karmic circumstances. We may wonder if in a previous lifetime Joe was in combat and severed the legs of his enemy, or if he took advantage of people who were physically challenged in some way, or if he lacked compassion for individuals who struggled, treating them unkindly or even viciously. We can wonder indefinitely, but does it matter? What matters is the situation in front of us.

It seems that the most important aspects of this situation are twofold. First, Joe needs to receive the appropriate therapy so that he may possibly regain some use of his leg. Second, Joe’s response (physically, emotionally, and cognitively) to the situation is critical. He can use the situation to grow and learn in ways that are unique to him and his evolutionary journey, in ways that increase his compassion and empathy for others. Joe can also choose to become angry and bitter over this devastating injury. It is Joe’s choice alone.

I’m not saying that Joe won’t have to deal with his feelings and thoughts—he definitely will; however, he can choose to work through the feelings and thoughts, which belong primarily to the personality. He can go beyond the personality and choose actions that will further his evolutionary journey.

We have all known individuals in situations similar to Joe’s. We may even think about historical personages such as Viktor Frankl, Anne Frank, Helen Keller, and Sojourner Truth. It’s a choice, and if we believe in the inextricability of karma and reincarnation, that choice determines the situations that may occur in future lifetimes.

So how does a knowledge of karma help us today when we face tragedy and loss? We may recognize that karma is intricately involved, but that is not the most important component. We must deal with the situation at hand both from the temporal and spiritual perspectives, allowing ourselves to further the evolution of humanity through a greater depth of understanding and compassion for all.


Members' Forum: For Such a Time as This

Printed in the Summer 2019 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Heubel, Peggy ,"Members’ Forum: For Such a Time as This" Quest 107:3, pg 9

By Peggy Heubel

None can doubt these days that turmoil in one form or another exists worldwide; no country seems to have escaped some form of conflict, disorder, or hardship, internally or internationally. Diplomacy, negotiation, tact, and a true acknowledgment by individual, local, and world leaders of the need for peace and harmony (through genuine, not self-centered, compromise) no longer exist. Or if they do, they are drowned out by the more powerful, more ambitious domestic and international heads of governments, who are strengthened by a belief in the superiority of their own perspective and of their own country over all others.

Such incivility and nationalistic posturing reflect the same characteristics in the majority of human beings. Egoism and selfishness, with apparent obliviousness to our collective and communal oneness, is overtly strengthening—we see it everywhere. By comparison, in the relatively recent past, this was not as obvious as it is in today’s climate. We could say these traits were, at the time, covertly simmering just under the surface of awareness.

We could perhaps understand if only one or two countries or a few handfuls of individuals here and there were exhibiting such negative qualities, but when we see general displays throughout all levels of society, how are we to understand what may be behind it? Seeing this is like watching as a viral illness grows to global proportions—and relatively suddenly.

Theosophists are familiar with the concepts of cyclic periodicity and understand that events recur after a relatively fixed and determined period of time, with the karma of every nation as an example. If periodicity is due to natural law, then the phenomenon now rampant on a global scale is a natural (and inescapable) part of human life.

For those of us who support the idea of universal brotherhood as another fact of natural law, with all its attendant ramifications (working toward a life of peace, harmlessness, respect, active compassion, and altruism to all), are we then to stand by, passively observe, and think all this will pass on to yet another cycle—one more aligned toward trying to live a life of practical brotherhood?

True Theosophists would never hold such an attitude, which is equivalent to watching someone about to walk off a cliff and doing nothing about it. A real Theosophist knows we have an obligation to act for universal good. We have personal obligations not only toward other individuals but to ourselves. In The Golden Stairs, we find two phrases that are applicable toward dealing with one of the most serious periods in human history: “a brave declaration of principles” and “a valiant defense of those who are unjustly attacked.”

As Theosophists, let us declare our beliefs; let us actively support brotherhood amongst all; let us, with courage and fearlessness, defend those who are weaker than us—who, out of fear, can’t speak for themselves. We have a voice; let us use it. Let us turn the tide that threatens to drown the entire world.


Peggy Heubel is president of the Theosophical Society of the East Bay in northern California. She is also a member of the Theosophical camp Far Horizons, a mentor for the TS’s Prisoner Correspondence Program, and a member of the board of the Theosophical Order of Service.


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