Quest Magazine

Printed in the Spring 2012 issue of Quest magazine. Citation: Besant, Annie. "Occultism and Occult Training" Quest  100. 2 (Spring 2012): pg. 67-73. 

By Annie Besant 

Annie Besant (1847-1933) was one of the seminal figures in the Theosophical movement. Joining the Theosophical Society in 1889, she rapidly moved to the vanguard of leadership, and was elected president of the international TS in 1907, a position she held until her death. She was the author of numerous books, including Esoteric Christianity, Thought Power, A Study in Consciousness, and The Laws of the Higher Life, and was active in numerous social and political causes as well.

The little-known lecture reproduced here was given at the first annual congress of the Federation of European Sections of the Theosophical Society, held in Amsterdam in June 1904. TS member and Quest contributor Kurt Leland drew it to our attention as being a succinct and comprehensive survey of the occult path. The lecture is reproduced in full, with no changes except for the correction of typographical errors and some modernization of orthography and punctuation.   —Ed.

Occultism has been defined by H. P. Blavatsky as the study of the Divine Mind in Nature; and, taking it in its broadest and deepest sense, I do not think that we can better that definition—the study of the Universal Mind as shown forth in the universe. Now those who have made such study, and have given some of the results of their study to the world, tell us that the universe exists first in the Universal Mind-that it exists there as Idea before it comes into manifestation in the grosser forms of matter; and, as you know, that view of the universe is found in all the great philosophies and religions of the world. We find the Greek philosophers speaking of an intelligible world, then of an intellectual, and later of the worlds of grosser matter. We find the Hebrews speaking also of a world of Mind, of which the physical world is but a gross and rough reproduction. We find it stated in the teachings of the Hindus and Buddhists that the universe is but the thought of the Supreme. And Theosophy, dealing with this a little more closely and more precisely, as its fashion is, draws for us a picture of the beginnings of a universe in which these ideas in the Universal Mind are drawn out by the great Architects; and then the Builders take them from the Architects and shape them into grosser kinds of matter, mental, astral, and physical.

The occultist, in trying to carry on his studies, finds himself face to face with two kinds of evolution, along both of which he must go. He is bound by the very name of his study to devote himself to the understanding of the Divine Mind in Nature; and inasmuch as that mind manifests itself through form in subtle matter, on which the grosser forms are modeled, he finds it also necessary, in his study of the thoughts of the Supreme Thinker, to prepare himself for the observation of the subtle forms in which those thoughts are clothed. His evolution, then, must be twofold.

On the one side he must evolve his own consciousness, so that that consciousness, working on higher planes, may be able directly to contact, to see, to study, to vibrate with, the thoughts in those subtler worlds; and, while he is evolving his consciousness to be able to intuit those thoughts, he must also evolve his subtler vehicles in which that consciousness may function upon the higher planes, and so be able by the development of his subtler senses to observe the various forms on those planes and see their relations with the physical plane.

For when we say—as we say truly—that Mind underlies the universe, and when we say that Nature has a life-side, we are dealing with rather different kinds of ideas, although ideas that are closely allied. For, in studying the Mind that underlies the universe, we are clearly on the side where Form is not; we are in a realm of Ideas in the subtlest sense of the term, where formlessness (as is often said) is to be found. When we come to deal with the manifestation of these ideas in the worlds we call invisible, and also in the visible, then in those worlds invisible we have to do with what is called the life-side of Nature—for by that phrase we intend to say that Nature is no dead mechanism, no soulless apparatus: that all that science knows as forces or as energies are really expressions of subtle lives; that all those forms and energies in Nature that form one great part of the study of scientific men, are really, on the higher planes, living beings; and that these living beings express themselves on the physical plane as the forces or the energies of the physical universe.

So that we may trace down a line along which the occultist would study the evolution of the form-side in Nature. He would begin with the Logos of a system; he would pass from him to his Viceroys, those we call the Planetary Logoi, each ruling over a department of his own; and then he would see round each Planetary Logos the great Rulers of the Elements which are to be the fundamental forms of matter in that department of Nature. He would see there those who are called in Hindu parlance the Kings of the Shining Ones, those who have for their bodies the great Elements in nature-meaning by that word “Elements," not the chemical elements of the physical plane, but Elements as spoken of in ancient philosophies describing the types of material used in the shaping of a universe. So that we should find one of these elements, Earth; and one that we call Water—(not water on the physical plane, but on the plane above the physical, the astral); and then above that the plane of Fire; and above that the plane of Air; and above that still higher the plane of Akasha, the Ether—the five planes with which here we have to do, and two higher yet, at present unmanifested and to us unknown.

Now each of these Elements from the occult standpoint forms in its entirety the body of one of these great Kings of the Shining Ones, whose who in Christian parlance would be called the Seven Archangels, rulers of the angels, having each beneath him and under his control a vast angelic host. And the conception of the occultist with regard to such an immense life is that you have a great spiritual Intelligence, who has evolved in past universes and comes into this world to be one of the great Builders of a universe, having as his body all the matter which is of one kind. Thus one of these Beings would be clothed in Ether as a totality, and every force that played in the ether would be the working of his intelligence, the expression of his thoughts. Another would be clothed in the supernal Fire, and all forms of fiery matter would be his body, or made of the material of his body, and all the energies that play in those forms would be his thoughts, the life, the fire, the energy, that play in that fiery matter. And so on all the way down.

So that you have this conception of Nature—that it consists on the side of life in great spiritual Intelligences, each of them ruling over a vast department of Nature and each of them clothed in a particular kind of matter—matter which is one of the Elements in the ancient sense of the term. And when we come down to our physical plane, we find that each of these Elements and each of these great Beings has his own representative in the physical universe also; for that which is a subplane of matter in the higher world is a plane of matter in the physical universe, and each subplane in the physical corresponds with or represents a plane in the higher, and each element is reproduced in the physical as a subplane of the physical and gives its name to that subplane. Thus down here on the physical plane, while the whole is all the great Element, Earth, the solid earth would be taken as the corresponding subplane; while the watery matter belongs to the great plane of the astral, and liquids on the physical plane would be the corresponding subplane or subelement. So again with Fire, which here is repre­sented by the gaseous bodies in Nature; and above that, in the occult sense of the word, Air, by the lowest of the ethers is repre­sented; and above that, the next higher great plane, the Divine Flame, is represented down here by the second of the ethers. The subatomic and atomic subplanes are the representatives of the two highest, the unknown Elements.

In this way, finding in the physical universe subplanes corresponding to each great kosmic plane, and thus subplanes corresponding to each of the primary Elements in the Kosmos—in this way the occultist, in studying even the physical, would not look on it quite from the standpoint of the ordinary scientific man. For he would see what he would call the subelements here—the solid, the liquid, the gaseous, the etheric, etc.—as directly connected with the great Lord of the Element in the kosmos or solar system. And so, if he is studying the life-side, that which is behind the phenomenal appearance of the subelement, he would then study the workings of the intelligence of that Being as shown out in the countless hosts of lower intelligences, who reproduce his thoughts in miniature and manifest his powers in miniature. Thus the whole of his study would be conditioned by this greater thought, and he would see in the manifestations of the physical plane the lowest expressions of the thought of a higher plane, and that would have a very practical bearing upon his dealing with Nature in a fashion I will return to in a moment.

The occultist who is trying to develop himself would deal first, in far more detail than I have outlined, with this great theory of worlds or systems of worlds and would become quite familiar with it in detail. That would be his first step, and a necessary step; for until he has mastered it as a theory it would be hopeless to attempt to practice it as an occult science. He must learn this theory as laid down by those who have verified it and studied it at first hand, in order that when he starts on his first practical and first hand study he may bring to it a trained intelligence, a cultured mind, and a consciousness which knows at least in theory what it is going to study.

Our would-be occultist, then, having mastered this theory in its details, will next concern himself with the evolution of his own consciousness. He will endeavor, by hard and strenuous thinking, by prolonged and careful meditation, to train the mental instrument with which he is to work upon the higher planes. And now will come his first great difficulty: he cannot begin to be an occultist until his mind is thoroughly under his control. As you know, men are for the most part under the control of their minds, where they are not under the control of their senses; but even the more developed are under the control of their minds, and do not control them. Until the mind is under control, it is useless as an instrument of occult research; for if it is to run about here, there, and everywhere, as it pleases, dragging its owner with it, it is clear that it will tend downwards towards the lines along which it has come in its evolution, impelled by desires, moved by attractions and repulsions; whereas the occultist who desires to know cannot afford to have attractions and repulsions; he is to study everything in the clear dry light of reason, and is not to shrink from one study nor to be attracted to another. The whole universe is before him; the Divine Mind is manifested in every part of it, and all that the Divine Mind has thought is worthy of study; there is nothing in that Mind, rightly understood, that can possibly repel. So that he must master his mind completely, and that is the first step the would-be occultist must take.

I say the first step, because I take it for granted that no one is thinking of becoming an occultist until he has purified his life and laid a firm foundation of virtue, of noble thinking, and of noble living. It does not do to leave that out of regard, though I am taking it for granted as being well-known to you, for it is of vital importance to him in his later studies. No man whose life is not pure, whose thoughts are not noble, whose character is not unselfish, should venture to touch occultism at all; for every fault he has will assail him, every failing will dig pits for his feet; and until he has laid his foundation of virtue he must not try to build on it the Temple of Occultism. Nor must he try to build that Temple until his emotions and senses are thoroughly under his control.

Let me put to you very briefly why this complete control of the senses, of the emotions, of the thoughts, is necessary for the occultist. Presently we shall find that he is going to move on subtler planes and use subtler vehicles. Now these vehicles he is going to practice in, made up as they are of very fine and delicate matter, will move and vibrate under far less force than will move and vibrate the physical body. It is a very simple fact known to every one of you, that the same amount of force put to the moving of a light body will drive it farther than if applied to a heavy body; a push that would not move a railway wagon would send a ball skimming many yards away. Now apply that well-known law to the vehicles in which the occultist is to work. So long as he is in the physical body he thinks and feels, but before the thought expresses itself it has used up almost the whole of its power in making the brain work at all; before an emotion shows itself as an emotion the greater part of it is exhausted in moving the heavy physical matter by which that emotion is expressed-so that you get only a very small residuum of thought and emotion showing themselves in the physical world. But now let the emotion go on to the astral plane. What happens? The same amount of thought, of emotion, moving in the astral body, will throw it into the most violent and fearful passion. If the man is not careful at first, he will run the risk of tearing his own astral body, and of doing great damage to those who are around him on the astral plane by the tre­mendous vibrations he sends out. He might knock another senseless, or even shatter his astral body, by the thought which down here would only show itself by a strong emotion.

Hence the need to control the thoughts and emotions. That is one of the reasons why, until the control of thought and emotion is achieved, no one will help another to go to work upon the astral plane in the definite, wide-awake, fashion. Uncontrolled people are like so many crackers or rockets flying all over the place—a danger to others, useless to themselves. So it is necessary that our would-be occultist should get the mastery of his mind and emotions, in addition to that purity of nature of which I have spoken.

Then comes the time when he is to work for the development of what are called the subtler senses. I am supposing he has gone along the line of evolution by which his consciousness has been unfol­ded, so that his consciousness is ready to understand, ready to receive impressions, ready to answer. When the consciousness is ready, the vehicles must be brought up to a fine point of response and the subtler senses must be evolved. Now these must be evolved in very definite ways, still all along the line of meditation, of a somewhat different type from that which evolves the consciousness: a meditation that deals directly with the astral and the mental senses, sets them to work, makes them active, and brings them under his control. When he has made progress along these two lines of evolving the conscious­ness and the subtler senses, the occultist will be ready to work upon the next two higher planes.

Then, as he begins to work, he will find a difficulty facing him—the difficulty of distinguishing between what he contributes to those two planes and the things which exist there independently of himself. And here he will make many a blunder for a very considerable time. Every feeling he has there takes to itself astral matter and presents itself as a living being; every thought clothes itself in mental matter and presents itself as an independent existence; and the first blunder that he will make, when he is able to see and to understand, is that he will always be getting back his own thoughts, he will always be finding his own ideas confirming themselves apparently by external agency. Hence many of the mistakes made by those whom we call untrained seers. If any such has a strong desire in his mind, he is sure to find it on the astral plane presenting itself as a most magnificent picture, and he will be convinced that it is his duty to follow out that image he has seen; and if it be one that can be reproduced on the physical plane he will be able to reproduce it here.

So also with doctrines, beliefs, convictions, of all kinds--the nearest thing to him will be the crowd of his own thoughts, emotions, and wishes. They will crowd all round him when he wakens on the higher planes, and it will be some time before he learns to quietly put all that crowd aside and to study the plane itself and not only his own creations upon it. Here comes in the value of his moral and unselfish training: for the more his thoughts are pure, the more they are under control, the more easily he will be able to manage them on the higher plane and give them their proper place; and the more they are free from all the promptings of desire, the safer he will be against the danger of hearing the echo of his own voice as his Master's voice, and regarding the figments of his own brain as commands put upon him by his Master.

As he goes on he will learn to distinguish, and there is one kind of touchstone which is very useful in the earlier days. If the thing he brings back is only the reflection of his own thought, a wish he desires to carry out upon the physical plane, then you may be sure there will be a great deal of feeling mixed up with it, grievous impatience, hurry, excitement, and anger, if the carrying out is opposed; whereas, if it be really a teaching of his Master, then he will show down here on the physical plane a calm, a peacefulness, an utter absence of excitement and passion of any kind. Now inasmuch as it is his Master's will, he will know that. His will must work itself out if only he does not oppose it; and that what is wanted on his side, that the Master's will may be done on the physical plane, is simply devotion, calm, and patience, putting no obstacle in the way but waiting until the impulse comes from the higher plane, which has in it the certainty of self-realization.

And the man who is trying to be an occultist will test himself in this way. If he finds himself very excited he will refrain from action, knowing that excitement is alien from the spiritual impulse. But if he finds a steady conviction which is able to wait for its realization, with no hurry, no excitement, which knows that every necessary circumstance will be brought into being by the Master, he may be sure his inspiration is from above and that he is not being led away by the echoes of his own desires. Hence, again, the enormous importance of that purifying process I alluded to, before real advance is made in occult knowledge and power.

Now a great change takes place in the higher vehicles of the occultist, a change which is slow but steady and which must be completed before he is really available as an instrument on higher planes than this. You have read in some of our Theosophical books, mostly in some books or papers of Mr. Leadbeater's, that the astral and the mental, as well as the physical, matter of which our bodies are composed, is elemental essence with a tendency downwards, that is to say, the ordinary mental body is made up of elemental essence, that of the higher kingdom, coming downwards towards the astral plane. So on the astral, the essence of which our astral body is composed is striving to come downwards to the physical; hence a continual downward movement in the very matter of our bodies.

Now as the occultist evolves, a change takes place in the material of which his astral and mental bodies are composed. The change consists in the rearrangement of the matter, and that rearrangement of the matter gives vehicles respectively for different kinds of life. The former arrangement of the matter gives vehicles for the downward-coming wave of the life of the Logos; the new arrangement of the matter of the astral and the mental bodies gives vehicles for the upward-climbing life of the Monad, the spirit of the man himself; so that, as this change goes on, the downward wave of the life of the second Logos leaves his astral and mental bodies, and his own life, the life of his own spirit, takes the place of that downward-sweeping wave. The result is an entire change in the direction and tendencies of these bodies; before, they tended to go down; now, they tend to go up. Before, the life pushed them downward; now, it is drawing them upward; so that in the perfected body of the occultist his own spiritual life is the ruler of the molecular arrangement, and it is that life which forms its vehicles of the subtler matter and shapes the matter into the bodies that thereafter he uses on the higher planes. This vast and wondrous revolution makes his body useful to him in the future instead of a hindrance, taking away that downward pulling of which he has ever been conscious and giving him as it were wings in his body, wings that lift him instead of clogs that drag him down. Here again comes in the need of that moral growth in self-consciousness of which I spoke. The only safety in this process is in the moral character, in the inner power of the man himself.

When he has thus builded his bodies, when he has thus evolved his consciousness, when he has thus developed his psychic senses, then is he an occultist indeed. Then he will be able to study without fear of error, then he will be able to investigate without fear of failure: for at that point he will be at the threshold of liberation, he will be ready for the Initiation that makes a man a Master. All through his discipleship he has been going through these stages, working along these different lines, and improving himself year by year. In his earliest studies he will make many blunders, and there is no mistake greater on the part of those who have not yet developed any of these faculties, or opened up their consciousness, than to suppose that when a person unfolds some of the astral or even of the mental subtler senses, that he becomes an infallible prophet, an infallible seer. Quite the contrary: he is liable to endless blunders, continual mistakes, and his only safety lies in the honest statement of what he believes to be the truth, and in a readiness to correct and amend it when clearer vision shows him to be mistaken; for there are many possibilities of mistake that open before the growing occultist. I have told you of those that face him on the very threshold.

Putting these aside, his next difficulty will be that there exist on the plane nearest to the earth many who will deliberately try to deceive him, to lead him wrong, to delay his growth, and to impede his gathering of knowledge. He can only gradually eliminate those, feeling them, sensing them, rather than seeing them, recognizing that subtle touch of magnetism which puts him on his guard, the signal of danger. And even when seeing straight and clear, the limitations of his vision are a fruitful source of error, for a thing does not look the same when you see it out of proportion. Seeing a fragment of a picture, you will have very little idea of that portion of the picture hidden from you, and you will not even see correctly the color of the bit you are able to sense, for colors are very much modified by surrounding colors and are not really the same to your vision when you see them surrounded by many other colors that influence the whole, as when you see one fragment shown with perhaps a white surrounding surface. Nor only is this true of color, but it is also true of form, and shapes seen out of proportion look quite different from the same seen in proportion; and seeing a fragment of the higher planes is often misleading because out of proportion to the whole.

So this lack, this limitation, bringing about a disproportion, is also one of the dangers against which the growing occultist must guard himself. And then there is the subtle temptation of pride and power, of thinking himself different from others and not realizing that he can only be an occultist in the higher sense when the forms are as nothing to him and the one life represents all being. Therefore is separateness called the great heresy, for to the occultist there is no more dangerous noose in which his feet may be trapped. If he thinks of himself as separate, at once he drops downward; if he thinks of others as separate from him, at once he is enmeshed in the web of delusion. He must keep clear the vision, which depends on unity, nor allow the pride of superior knowledge to make him hold himself as distinct from the ignorant and the unevolved. Such are some of the difficulties that surround him; and yet none of these difficulties can daunt the soul who has set his heart on knowledge, on the greater service of the world. True, they are difficulties; but difficulties exist only to be overcome. True, they are dangers; but dangers make brave the heart, make strong the muscles of the spirit. So that one who is ready for the occult Pathway will not be affrighted by the dangers nor depressed by the difficulties; but, taking patience in both hands, and with the perseverance that marks the true student, he will address himself to his difficult task, secure in his faith in his Master, secure in his faith in the God that is himself, profound in his love for humanity, whom he is resolute to serve. And thus armed with patience, perseverance, faith and love, he will tread his difficult Path and become an occultist indeed.

Printed in the Spring 2012 issue of Quest magazine. Citation: Kerschner, Janet. "The TS Archives: Bringing History into the Present" Quest  100. 2 (Spring 2012): pg. 62-64.

By Janet Kerschner

     Every day is an adventure in the archives of the Theosophical Society in America. Recently, for example, I received a heavy bronze tree plaque found by a visitor near the Garden of Remembrance at our Olcott headquarters. The inscription particularly caught my eye because of its inscription: "Presented by Butte Lodge May 6, 1925" (right). That was the very first day that trees were planted on the bare fields of our newly purchased estate in Wheaton (left). Archival records quickly showed that a Crimean linden was donated by the Butte Lodge at a cost of $10.50. The tree did not survive long, and was replaced by a sycamore. 

Archives are records of enduring value created or collected by an individual or an organization. The value can be legal, financial, historical, artistic, or intrinsic, but to an archivist the worth of a record is based on its authenticity as evidence of the originator's activities and interests. Archives are far from being dusty old papers, but are imbued with all the vitality of current events and foreshadowings of the future. Our institutional memory is a tapestry of correspondence and reports, recordings and photographs, databases and e-mails. The TSA archives holds organizational papers that were once actively produced, received, and used by our staff. In the 1920s TSA president L. W. Rogers wrote an article in The Messenger asking for trees to be donated; a bookkeeper recorded $10.50 received from Butte, Montana; a secretary ordered a bronze plaque; a typist created a list of the tree locations; and a photographer snapped the image. And, fortunately for us today, someone retained those records "for the archives," never guessing that we would be looking at them with new interest in 2012. 

 The TSA archives department exists primarily to preserve organizational records, but serves another major function as a repository for materials donated by individuals and groups. These special collections include the papers of the great Blavatsky scholar Boris de Zirkoff; the photo albums of author Clara Codd (right); a large mixed-media collection from past TSA president Dora Kunz and her husband; the postcard collection of Carl E. Holbrook, including many cards sent by C. W. Leadbeater; two volumes of photographs belonging to author and clairvoyant Geoffrey Hodson; and many more. The family of painter Henry Schwartz gave us a magnificent portrait of Jiddu Krishnamurti made in 1926 (which now hangs outside the president's office at our Olcott headquarters), along with papers and photographs from the old Oak Park Lodge.  Donations have come in many forms—boxed records from a lodge that closed; a single photograph; postage stamps featuring Theosophists; a palm-leaf manuscript; a horseshoe found on the grounds. A proactive archivist tries to locate papers held in private hands and to capture reminiscences as oral histories. Memoirs, correspondence, photographs, Web pages, and artifacts from families and lodges can add rich detail to the Society's history. Many of our accessions come unexpectedly, sometimes without explanation. One gentleman from Kentucky thought it was important for us to have a photograph of a dead weasel covered with eight swastikas, but he gave no idea of its significance. Our most recent gift, on the other hand, is truly a treasure—a small sculpture of a Bodhisattva, owned by TS cofounder Henry Steel Olcott, that was sent to us by historian Joseph E. Ross.

Olcott's Bodhisattva  We are grateful to Joseph E. Ross for our most recent donation. He sent us an exquisite Bodhisattva that Colonel Henry S. Olcott received from an influential family during his travels through China in 1890 (figure 8). (A Bodhisattva, in Mahayana Buddhism, is an individual who has vowed to postpone individual salvation in order to work on behalf of the liberation of all sentient beings.) Srimati Rukmini Devi, an Indian Theosophist celebrated for her efforts at reviving Indian classical dance, gave this piece of art to Joseph on October 2, 1978, so that it would be delivered to America to strengthen the links of East and West. Joseph writes that "the artisan who created it was well versed in Hindu symbolism, yet he melded it into a typically Chinese visage and trunk. The five circular coins on the cover represent the fourfold lower worlds of personality plus the one of the spirit represented by the bird...The landscape inside the cover represents...the planet earth. The figure sits on a lotus in space as represented by the starry background." The Bodhisattva was brought to this country in 1978, the Chinese Year of the Horse, as the horse is a transporter or carrier of things. Rukmini Devi told Joseph that this object holds subtle influences that would "leaven the climate of brotherhood and unity among all the people of the earth planet. It is a universal symbol written in Hindi Chinese script. Its presence now in the west is to strengthen the realization of Oneness."

In archival practice, records groups are identified by provenance (the creator or collector of the materials) and maintained in their original order. At times the provenance is unknown and must be deduced from the contents of the records. For example, an original signed letter would usually belong to the papers of the recipient, whereas a carbon copy of the same letter would be found in the files of the writer. Both the original and the carbon may have valuable handwritten notations as well as attached materials reflecting the different viewpoints of the writer and recipient. Often boxes of old papers arrive in a jumble, and the archivist must draw order from the chaos by devising a system of organization that will be useful for researchers. Each collection of records is documented in finding aids designed to describe the materials and their organization (left).  

 Management of archives requires continual balancing of preservation with access. Papers, photographic images, audiovisual materials, artifacts, and digital objects all have different requirements for physical preservation and access. Colored pigments and inks can deteriorate rapidly at normal office temperatures, and cellulose-based papers become brittle and discolored. The archivist must apply preservation measures to prevent or delay this degradation. Temperature and relative humidity are monitored, and the environment is kept free of dust, contaminants, mold, and insects—a demanding task for us in a structure built in 1926. Some documents are simply too fragile to handle, and access can best be provided through digital or printed surrogates. Preservation of digital media requires particular combinations of hardware and software that rapidly become obsolete, so continued access to digital materials depends on frequent migration to the latest-greatest technology. Preservation of older records is simpler. Papers and photographs are transferred into labeled, acid-free folders and boxes, with fasteners like rubber bands and paper clips removed.

Ultimately, continued access is the goal. We do not acquire and maintain archival materials like misers hoarding treasure. Free access is our policy, with very few exceptions. Administrative records are not restricted except for certain personnel and legal matters, but privacy and confidentiality must be respected. Dora Kunz, for example, left us case studies of healing sessions using Therapeutic Touch, a healing modality of which she was the coinventor. Legally, the names of patients must be redacted (omitted or covered up) before we can permit researchers to view those papers. Copyright is another legal issue that must be considered when dealing with unpublished works and photographs. Restrictions are occasionally imposed on donated collections, although we try to establish the broadest rights that donors will allow as we draw up deed of gift agreements.

 Inquiries come daily in many forms. TSA staff and members often need photographs, copyright information, membership records, and general fact checking. Lodges, camps, and other groups have asked for assistance with preservation issues, advice about grant proposals, and anniversary celebrations. Last summer, old scripts from the archives enjoyed a revival as skits performed at Pumpkin Hollow Retreat Center in Craryville, New York.

A few questions come from the general public, and occasionally involve dramatic misconceptions. A foreign student telephoned asking about Henry Steel Olcott, of whom he knew little except that Olcott was a national hero in the young man's home of Sri Lanka. He said that in a competition in his secondary school he had been awarded the "Sir Henry S. Olcott Award" for public speaking. It came as a surprise to him that Olcott was an American colonel rather than a British knight! Another caller wanted to know if Olcott had fathered illegitimate children in South Asia, and I had to convince him that this was extremely unlikely given Olcott's impeccable ethics and Buddhist vows.

The requests of academic researchers range widely. Some questions have involved Reiki founder Mikao Usui; early Theosophical terminology; L. Frank Baum, author of The Wizard of Oz; the fourth dimension; architect Marion Mahoney Griffin; the Association of Hebrew Theosophists; composer Alexander Scriabin; the architecture of Theosophical communities; and educator Maria Montessori. Archival collections cannot always contribute the needed information, but our excellent library and its periodicals usually fill in the gaps. Grateful academics often reciprocate with information of their own. The Thomas Edison Archives recently sent scans of letters addressed to the inventor by a Theosophist, and a Reed College archivist traded photos and facts about lecturer Pieter K. Roest, who helped write the postwar constitution of Japan.

Books are one of the material benefits coming out of assisting researchers. Each author prints an acknowledgement, "Courtesy of the Theosophical Society in America Archives," adding to our name recognition and leading future researchers to our resources. Authors donate copies of their works, which become available in our national library.

Genealogical research can be very rewarding. Often a member simply wants to know when or whether a deceased relative was also a member, but archival materials can also bring healing across miles and decades. Stephan, an East German scholar, e-mailed asking whether his great-aunt Ilse Getz had been a member of the Society. As a matter of fact, in the mid-1930s, when Nazism was on the rise in Germany, Ilse and her husband Franklin (figure 6) immigrated to the United States. After being welcomed into the Society by members of the Oak Park (Illinois) Lodge, they moved to the headquarters campus in Wheaton, where he became a bookkeeper and she worked in the kitchen. The young couple lost contact with their families during World War II, and could not resume communication in the years of communism in East Germany. Stephan visited our campus to see where Ilse had found a home. Membership records, old issues of The American Theosophist, papers from the Oak Park Lodge, and photographs of our staff told her story. Stephan's grandmother had never known what happened to her dear sister, and the family was thrilled to see photographs of Ilse and Franklin from the 1940s, young and happy. Stephan wrote, "Your efforts reopened a lost past. Since yesterday there are and will be again people who look at the photos of this couple with deep emotional involvement and the intention to remember and explore their lives."

History at this individual level has proved compelling to some of our youngest volunteers in the archives. Several high school students helped me sort correspondence from 1946 concerning a massive project to ship parcels to needy European Theosophists. The teenagers were amazed to read accounts of harrowing wartime experiences along with appeals for thread, shoelaces, and soap (figure 7). They made earnest efforts to read letters written in French and German and urged me to scan the documents for a Web page. I was struck by the power of the past to engage young hearts.

     Our archival collections have materials that are found nowhere else. When Ananda College in Sri Lanka planned its 125th anniversary celebration, we were able to assist the college's Old Boys Association with scans of school periodicals and papers from 1914-17, when Fritz Kunz served as principal. No other archives could provide that little slice of history, and it is pure pleasure to be able to share items that have been neglected for decades.

     Working as the TSA archivist carries me in directions that I never anticipated. I have new acquaintances in Siberia, Portugal, South Africa, Israel, New Zealand, Sweden, and many other countries. Daily I am discovering the depth and breadth of Theosophical influence in the world, and I try to bring it to light in displays, writings, and presentations. Web displays will be featured in the near future, and work is progressing on an on-line encyclopedia.

     Theosophists who want to keep our history vibrant can help in many ways. Members of lodges, other local groups, and Theosophical families should consider how their own records are stored. Keep programs, clippings, membership rosters, and correspondence, in addition to legal papers. Remember to take lots of photographs, including action shots, and label them with names and dates. During our 2012 Summer National Gathering, scholar Michael Gomes will be conducting a workshop on how to write a lodge history, so you can follow his guidance in documenting your own group. Consider having a work-study visit here at the Olcott campus to assist in scanning documents, identifying people in old photographs, writing research articles, and developing displays. Interview your older members, and send World War II memoirs to the archives as a contribution to an upcoming book about wartime experiences.

Always remember that the TSA archives and the Henry S. Olcott Memorial Library have resources that can aid your studies, and that we appreciate your assistance in providing resources for future theosophists. Contact the Archives at archives@theosophical.org or 630-668-1571, extension 353.

Janet Kerschner joined the Theosophical Society in America staff in 2006 and serves as archivist. She has a graduate degree in library science and is a member of the Academy of Certified Archivists. Among many other projects, Janet is currently working on a book about Theosophists during World War II.

Printed in the Spring 2012 issue of Quest magazine. Citation: Terpack, Walter. "Stewards of Eternity" Quest  100. 2 (Spring 2012): pg. 56-58.

By Walter Terpack 

My grandmother would use the word "terrific" to describe bumper-to-bumper traffic, as in the song "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays." Here "terrific" was close to its original meaning of "to cause terror." While that may have been adorable with her Bronx accent, in my generation the word has come to mean something closer to the opposite of what she described. When my parents commented on my soccer performances throughout my youth, if they said I'd had a terrific game, instead of basking in apparent praise, perhaps I should have asked them to be more specific.

We recognize these forms of verbal evolution from their context and we alter our word choices accordingly. It's not just words and their definitions that evolve but also our understanding of a concept and its importance. "Love" and "joy" have meant the same thing for centuries. What has changed, possibly even evolved, is our understanding of their role as determined by the human psyche and their rare distinctions of being singular, without opposite, in describing states of unalloyed conscious presence.

Few people unfamiliar with Theosophy would imagine that the process of evolution might be anything more than incidental. Some, particularly Western, societies and religions have themselves evolved into institutions that try to convince man that he is a lowly sinner with no hand in his own evolution. They seem to prefer to have him believe that life and circumstances are beyond personal influence and the things that happen to us are simply God's will or the events of life, which some naively assert are unfair.

As Theosophists, we are encouraged to be aware of a more personal type of evolution. In a sense, we are all agricultural scientists, or husbandmen, selecting traits in ourselves, cultivating and nurturing them. Though the word "husbandman" seems outdated and exclusive of women as a synonym for "farmer," it hints at a nurturing quality more commonly found in the female. Agrarian Wendell Berry, in his essay "The Unsettling of America," tells us, "The farmer, or husbandman, is by definition half mother." We know that a farmer owns, operates, or works on a farm or pays for the right to collect revenue or profits from its production. The husbandman, however, is concerned with the general management of domestic affairs and resources. The word "husbandman" implies responsibility and accountability, not only for production, but for ensuring that it's not at the expense of future production.

While a husbandman is usually concerned with crops and stock and their conversion to edible products, in order to evolve we require spiritual sustenance and tools. We are stewards of eternity, learning from experience to recognize what must be sacrificed for a greater good, keeping in mind the laws of nature and the demands of nurture.

Like plants, we are rooted in our environment. Unlike plants, we can choose to take evolution into our own hands. John Algeo, past president of the Theosophical Society in America, shares a fundamental concept in his study guide Theosophy: An Introductory Course: "The process of evolution, which begins by unconscious impulse, must eventually become a conscious process directed by the free will and ever increasing self-awareness of the evolving entities. The conscious participation by human beings in evolutionary change is symbolized as walking a path." Theosophy, the wisdom tradition, guides and inspires us to take the next step along the path. Throughout history, human beings have faced challenges unique to their respective eras, despite innovative technological advances. Yet this perennial philosophy, as it is so aptly called, remains an effective cauldron for transmuting the ills of any epoch into spiritual progress. When we follow the Theosophical road map and take the three routes recommended to us—study, meditation, and service—we can come to know our dharma, or what nature's aim may ultimately be for us.

For the spiritual aspirant as for the husbandman, study of one's craft is imperative. In order to prepare ourselves for so arduous a journey, plotting a course is as important as having a destination. History has given us stories and lessons from messengers blessed with wisdom and providing us with seeds for thought, transformation, joy, inspiration, love, forgiveness, and healing. As we study the lives of the adepts and Mahatmas and immerse ourselves in spiritual traditions, we become more capable of directing our own evolution. These Masters have already sown their seeds and reaped their harvests, and they have saved the seeds from those harvests in order to pass on to us knowledge that might save us whole seasons of ignorance and frustration.

For the husbandman, the act of cultivation is indispensable to progress. Preparing a seedbed by eliminating all unwanted vegetative growth capable of stealing water or nutrients from the intended crop is akin to our meditation practice. Daily we stake out an intention along with an allocation of time. During this time we sit; we are thorough yet gentle in our cultivation. Beneficent intentions are felt, pondered, and embraced at the altar of our higher Self. Anything detrimental to our goals is abandoned where it lies, or better yet, cast aside to the compost pile of doubts, fears, and worries. This is contemporary alchemy, where the elevated vibrancy of our meditation heats up, transmuting bad habits, character flaws, and past "sins" into beneficial constituent elements, which contribute to the fertility of our personal potential. At the end of the session, we are gifted with a fertile patch of Eden. There will be days when we sit, but only end up having wrestled with vines or itchy from poison ivy. These too are days when we become wiser and stronger from the exertion.

"The key to the advancement of human evolution is a dedication by the individual to the service of others, that is, altruism—an awareness of brotherly unity and a forgetfulness of personal separateness." John Algeo again, this time with practical encouragement to step into the stream leading back to the One. As we align ourselves with spiritual ideals, we naturally become less aware of ourselves and more aware of others. When, in addition to meditation, study, and service, we participate in life with a grateful heart, we become more capable of recognizing the many faces of suffering. Less self-involvement affords us more time and opportunity to be of assistance to those who need it. On an evolutionary trail, there will naturally be representatives of different levels of spiritual maturity. We speak of the Mahatmas on one side of the evolutionary scale, but along the rest of the scale, there are those who cannot thrive without the love, compassion, and support that others might provide. "In the theosophical context," Robert Ellwood, past vice-president of the TSA, tells us, "service is work done for the benefit of others, whether human or beast, and thus an expression of compassion and a ‘push' along the evolutionary trail upward." We apply what we have garnered through meditation and study to the service of others. Just an inch of water here or a topdressing of compost there can make all the difference in a world where small gestures have immeasurable impact.

There are pitfalls to evolution when attempts are made to shortcut nature or proceed with a limited, self-interested perspective. Most obvious are those seen in agriculture. By the process of adaptation, strains of plants or trees become capable of withstanding previously unfavorable conditions by slowly overcoming challenges, such as climate, soil pH, and the availability of water and other nutrients. Even plants grown in a greenhouse require a period of "hardening off" or else they will be susceptible to the cool air of spring, wind, and direct sunlight. When done naturally and incrementally, most living things will adapt into hardier organisms, better equipped to survive or thrive in a new environment. Genetic alteration and chemical treatment for the purpose of disrupting natural processes have less predictable, potentially disastrous results. We frequently hear of antibiotic-resistant bacteria or chemical-resistant weed or insect pests, many of which are no longer affected by the application of something which would have devastated them just a few short seasons ago. Coexisting peacefully, in full partnership with nature, is assuredly a wiser option. There is a guarantee of basic health in ecological systems where Nature becomes teacher.

We have been introduced by birth into a system so beautifully evolved that we can use any challenge available to us as an impetus to further ourselves along the course we've chosen. If we take a cue from Nature and realize that some of the richest, most fertile soil for growing will be made up of rotted manure, decomposing vegetation unfit for consumption, and other natural debris, it becomes obvious that nothing was intended to be wasted in this plan. Nothing is trivial; tragedies and mistakes are adorned with lessons and opportunities, and human beings are worthy of their karma and have contributions to make no matter what their station. Life is what impels us along our path, and our lives and communities are filled with teachers who either have wisdom to share or can, even with their faults, make us more tolerant, compassionate, or forgiving. We don't even require teachers who know more than we do! There is no shortage of events in our lives that couldn't inspire us to consider our own personal evolution. These are the gifts that resonate within us and confirm our divinity.

Making a conscious choice to step onto a path has its practical applications. Many of us have known what it's like to live the alternative—a life where one responds unconsciously to the circumstances which were creations of a life lived unconsciously. The detours along such a course may lead to depression or dysfunction. Fortunately for the suffering traveler, these places have an alarm clock–like ability to wake us from our reactive slumber. Aspiring to our destiny, we evolve mindfully, aware of consequences, with the understanding that love, compassion, and forgiveness bear real fruit, true to their seeds.

Personal evolution and the development of character begin with thoughts, which manifest as acts, and develop into habits. When we consider the many instances we interact with others in a typical day, we can take small, incremental, but sure-footed evolutionary steps by facing our dharma and responding appropriately. 

References 

Algeo, John. Theosophy: An Introductory Study Course. Wheaton: Theosophical Society in America, 2006.

Berry, Wendell. "The Unsettling of America." In The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry. Washington, D.C.: Shoemaker & Hoard, 2002.

Ellwood, Robert. Theosophy: A Modern Expression of the Wisdom of the Ages. Wheaton: Quest, 1986.

Walter Terpack studies Theosophy, endeavoring to apply its principle toward personal transformation and healing. He is a native of New Jersey and a participant in the TS's prison outreach program.

The Theosophical Society in America provides information on Theosophy to prisoners through pamphlets, books, and correspondence courses. Many prisoners become members of the TSA due to the sense of purpose and direction that the teachings provide. If you would like to participate as a mentor in the prison program, please contact the National Secretary at 1-800-669-1571, ext. 301.

Printed in the Spring 2012 issue of Quest magazine. Citation: Mereton, Philip. "Does God Evolve?" Quest  100. 2 (Spring 2012): pg. 56-58.

By Philip Mereton

One popular approach to dealing with the diversity of religions is to adopt the view that each one—from Hinduism, Buddhism, and Taoism to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam—lays claim to its own spiritual world. No one religion has a monopoly on truth, enlightenment, or access to a supreme being. Given the diversity of faiths, a goal might be to seek understanding through a dialogue between followers of different belief systems while retaining a commitment to one's own faith. (See Harvard's Pluralism Project, whose stated mission is "to help Americans engage with the realities of religious diversity through research, outreach, and the active dissemination of resources": pluralism.org.) In this spirit, the Dalai Lama writes about a "true kinship of faiths," whereby followers of the world's religions are urged to seek a higher ground built upon compassion and understanding.

Pluralism and "kinship of faiths" models offer an attractive option for convincing those of different faiths that what joins religions—reverence for a higher ground of being—is much deeper than what divides them. Yet the "kinship of faiths" model also has a serious drawback. It assumes that both God and religious systems are static and unchanging, like a human being who has been transmogrified into the stone shape of a praying figure. This view assumes that, in contrast to even the lowest of life forms, God or Spirit does not itself evolve.

What I would like to suggest in this article is something radically different—that religious systems are not static and that God is an evolving being.

In the first place, what do I mean when I say that religious systems are not static? I mean that all religions strive for an endpoint—moksha (liberation from the wheel of rebirth) to Hindus, nirvana to Buddhists, harmony with the Way for Taoists, and the arrival of a messiah or Judgment Day for the Abrahamic religions. So let's suppose that at some point, prayers are answered, and enlightenment is reached or revelation is concluded. This presupposes, at the very least, that the perspectives of the world religions as they exist now are incomplete and subject to growth and change over the course of time.

 Let's next suppose that God is not a static, unchanging Being, but rather the ground of being that itself is evolving through time. From this perspective, we can view history in a Hegelian sense, and see that humans over time evolve spiritually in alignment with the evolution of God.

If, as the Upanishads teach, the individual self (Atman) is God (Brahman), then perhaps individual people express the forms of God over time. We then have two parallel tracks: God, or the one mind, evolves through time to recognize that it encompasses all reality. From the perspective of the individual, people evolve spiritually through time to realize they are God, collectively and individually. The human form is thus a physical reflection of God's struggle to understand itself and the world.

Some may believe that since God is infinite, it already possesses all possible qualities, so there is nothing for it to evolve into. This abstract thought, however, may ignore reality and disparage the very object of reverence. If there is a God, it is alive, and, like all living things, it cannot help but learn and grow with time and experience.

The supposition that Spirit evolves with time is a cornerstone of the idealist philosophy of the German philosopher G. W. F. Hegel (1770-1831) and others. In his History of Philosophy, Hegel wrote, "Everything that from eternity has happened in heaven and earth, the life of God and all the deeds of time simply are the struggles for Spirit to know itself, to find itself, be for itself, and finally unite itself to itself." The objective of world history, according to Hegel, is for Spirit to know itself as encompassing all reality; the "history of the world, with all the changing scenes which its annals present, is this process of development and the realization of Spirit—this is the true Theodicea, the justification of God in History...what has happened, and is happening every day, is not only not ‘without God,' but is essentially his Work."

These ideas are echoed by other thinkers. For the Indian philosopher Sri Aurobindo (1872-1950), man is a being in transition to a higher form of existence; over time he climbs the ladder of consciousness from Higher Mind and Illumined Mind to Supermind and Overmind. Along the way, the rising consciousness molds new physical forms (or species) and with this expanding awareness eventually carries out a divine life on earth. For the French philosopher Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955), evolution is synonymous with the rise in consciousness. Drawn upward by the Omega Point (resembling the Christian God), consciousness continues its ascent as it converges toward God and world unity.

 In the process philosophy of the English philosopher Alfred North Whitehead (1861-1947), time and change rather than things represent the fundamental reality. God is both the source and the end of the cosmic process. To Whitehead, "God is the infinite ground of all mentality, the unity of vision seeking physical multiplicity. The World is the multiplicity of finites, actualities seeking a perfect unity."

The thought that Spirit evolves in time may seem abstract and otherworldly, but the point is actually simple. I mean that if God (or the underlying ground of being) is a creative force, or mind, then it cannot help but grow, mature, and evolve with time. Let's try two examples.

Imagine a child prodigy who, at sixteen years old, plays the violin better than all of the great masters. She controls the instrument and plays it as if the course of history led to her having the violin in her hands. But over time she practices, learns from experience, and gains greater mastery. The creative force changes and improves with time. She was a master at age sixteen, a better one at twenty-six, and so on. Creativity and talent, even when unlimited, improve when driven through the grindstone of experience.

Here is another example. Who will be better at predicting the technology of 2020—a futurist in the 1890s or one in the 1990s? Even though the earlier futurist may have had a virtually unlimited imagination, the later futurist has the benefit of a hundred years of technology to stimulate the same imagination. The deeper into the future the mind travels, the more it knows more about what the future may bring.

Now imagine God as an evolving Spirit or mind moving in time and adopting different physical forms. Is this an odd thought? Not really. This viewpoint matches up well with the concepts of reincarnation or rebirth integral to Hinduism and Buddhism. Under these concepts, upon death of a physical body the inner soul reemerges to undertake a new bodily form. This process of rebirth continues until the Hindu reaches moksha or the Buddhist attains nirvana.

Viewing God as an evolving Being—with humans acting out this process of evolution in physical form—furnishes a basis for reconciling the world's religions. With this assumption, we can interpret the great religious texts, such as the Bible, Qur'an, and Upanishads, in a new light. In these texts, the authors are simply articulating the word of God as God understands itself at that time.

This means, for instance, that the Qur'an would be the word of God spoken to Muhammad, but in the language and mind-set of Spirit's stage of evolution at that point in history. The same would be true for the Old and New Testaments. Under this interpretation, Jesus Christ becomes, like Moses and Muhammad, a voice of the one mind of God who brings a message of peace to the earth.

From this perspective, we can see a flaw in current religious orthodoxy. It is often assumed, for example, that when Muhammad articulated the word of God in the Qur'an this literal message would hold for all eternity, as if it were engraved in stone tablets handed down from heaven. But if God is viewed as an evolving Spirit, with Muhammad as a messenger, then the Qur'an simply represents God's understanding of itself at a specific time in history.

Is this view blasphemous? How so? It simply acknowledges that an infinite Spirit itself evolves through time, coincident with the spiritual world of people. To read any religious text as the final word of God overlooks the fact that God itself is never "final," never complete, but always moving through history.

Eastern religions furnish a different perspective on the same theme. For example, Buddhists believe that life is suffering caused by an unhealthy attachment to the material world. The goal of life then becomes to achieve a release from this attachment and enter into the flow of eternal becoming. But the Buddha lived in a world of suffering, and his spiritual insight took him only as far as his place in history would allow. If escaping the world of rebirth means to dwell eternally in the world of nonphysical Spirit, then the natural question is, what is the purpose of the physical world? Under this new picture of God as an evolving Spirit, the goal is to escape the wheel of rebirth by escaping death itself: the one mind of God finally comes to understand itself and realizes it not only encompasses all reality, but also is at the source of reality. God comes down to earth as the man-god.

Thus, if we place the founders of the world's great religions in time and overlay their teachings and revelations against the backdrop of a God evolving in time, we come upon a different way to unite religions. Each faith, it turns out, expresses the mind of God trying to understand itself as it strives for complete knowledge and enlightenment; but each faith can reach only as far as God's level of maturity and knowledge can take it at a given point. If this approach is on the right track, we would expect humankind gradually to draw in the Spirit of God, to move away from projecting God as an outside power and, consistent with other evolutionary philosophies, eventually reach the point where it consciously carries out the life of God on earth. 

Each faith ascends the same mountain but along a different path. At the top of the mountain, we find not separate spiritual worlds, but a place for all faiths under the sky of the evolving mind of God.

Philip Mereton is a practicing lawyer with a philosophy degree who lives with his wife and daughter in Glen Ellyn, Illinois.  He is the author of The Heaven at the End of Science: An Argument for a New Worldview of Hope. He can be reached at philipmereton@yahoo.com.