Quest Magazine

Originally printed in the Summer 2011 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: "Impractical Wisdom." Quest  99. 3 (Summer 2011): 84.

Tim Boyd

National President 

There are times in our lives when events move so swiftly that they require us to make our best efforts to merely keep from falling behind. Often we will later look back on these as times when we learned a great deal, whether or not we met the challenges faced. In these situations, we find the measure of ourselves and discover whether the time spent in inner preparation has prepared us for the rush of outer activity.

In recent months, I have found myself at the center of such a perfect storm of activity. To get ready for my upcoming term as president of the Theosophical Society in America, I moved from my Chicago home of thirty-seven years to the Olcott campus in Wheaton. Simultaneously I began my education into the substantial intricacies of administering the Society. If the Lords of Karma were listening to me, all of this would have been enough, but of course there was more in store. At the very moment when I was struggling to pack up my home and move, the TS got the call that the Dalai Lama had accepted our May 2010 request to allow us to sponsor a visit by him to Chicago. But instead of the 2012 date we had originally discussed, his visit was now to be in July 2011—less than five months away.

Our initial urge was to beg off and wait for a more opportune time. When it became clear that His Holiness' entire schedule for 2012 had recently been cast into question, we realized that if the TSA was going to host his visit, it would have to be now or never.

Still, we were uncertain in the face of the enormity of the undertaking. Although we knew we would be unwise to pass up this opportunity, Betty Bland and I engaged in a little game listing the reasons why we knew it was impossible. The most obvious was that Summer National Gathering was already scheduled for the week after the potential visit. Next, we reasoned that we had no experience planning an event of this magnitude. And where could we find a suitable venue on such short notice? Obstacle after obstacle was presented and evaporated under our scrutiny, until we reached the final obstacle, the stopper, the great killer of dreams—money—hundreds of thousands of dollars. That one we could not see our way around.

We decided to put a time limit on making a decision. We asked the Office of Tibet to give us a week. During that time we would explore our options, daunting though they seemed. A few phone calls later, and we were catapulted into meetings with national production companies, representatives for rock stars—even some of Oprah's people wanted to get involved. Quickly we found that the Dalai Lama's name drew a crowd of high-level people who could put together a large-scale event and make it possible for the Chicago community to hear His Holiness' message on"Bridging the Faith Divide."

Why did we hesitate even then? Over the years I have found that when we are faced with such a dizzying array of choices, there is often the possibility of"paralysis by analysis." At the level of the reasoning mind, an answer is hard to find. At such times a deeper level of perception is needed. One of the best ways to invite such a moment of clarity is to turn back to the basics. The fundamental question around which all of the details of this event had to revolve was"What is our motivation?" In numerous Theosophical writings we run across the idea that motive is everything. Our inner motivation in performing any task colors and determines the real value of the outcome.

So what were our motives? They began with a sense that the Dalai Lama can confer a blessing. His presence and message speak to deep levels inside of all people. He brings a message that empowers and cuts through superficial thinking. Our motivation was to create a space for the maximum experience of this presence. To accomplish this, we wanted to work with like-minded people—people for whom the deepening of consciousness and compassion were an important component of their lives. We planned to create an environment for the event that would embrace participants on multiple levels, visual as well as auditory, and leave an impact that would continue beyond the last word spoken on stage. We wanted to include the Tibetan community, who have suffered greatly with the loss of their homeland, and to finish the event with substantial funds that could be given to assist Tibetan refugees. We wanted to reaffirm and reenergize the longtime connection between the Theosophical Society and the Dalai Lama. We wanted our own TS members to be able to share in the responsibility of presenting one of the greatest men on the world stage today. We hoped that the Theosophical Society would be recognized for its contribution in seeding the consciousness of humanity with a vision of unity and cooperation. We also had an intention of modeling right behavior and right values in all aspects of the event, so that even the most mundane detail would be infused with spirit. In short, we hoped this event could serve as practice in living the Theosophical lives we have committed ourselves to.

Moving to this simpler point of view brought it all into focus. Quickly the right people either appeared or were identified. With the right people, the doors opened to meet all of the other needs. Even the financing became a nonissue as generous people came forward to commit substantial sums of money.

In some spiritual circles, there is a wish—expressed in numerous prayers such as"Use me, Lord,""Let your light shine through me," or"Let the will of the highest be done in me"—that our lives merge with the divine life and will. We want to be used to bring peace to the world, heal the pain of a suffering humanity, and right the countless imbalances inflicted on nature, and we invite some defining moment that will marshal all of the qualities we believe we have cultivated. We want to do great things. But we often forget that greatness is the result of compassionate attention to the infinite number of mundane events and small details that make up our daily lives. The great moment is this moment. The suffering of humanity is lessened by addressing the suffering of the person in front of me right now. The great initiation will one day be presented because of my attention to the daily initiations I face in getting my daughter off to school, listening to a hurt and complaining friend, or declining to be fearful in the face of the war, turmoil, and disaster that occupy the daily news. There is no moment more spiritual than this one. There is no task greater than the one in front of me now. There is no genuine spirituality that ignores the present moment in its longing for some future greatness.

The Theosophical Society has been given a great opportunity in the Dalai Lama's visit. It is the result of countless selfless efforts by our members in the 135 years since the TS's founding. Our members worldwide have attempted to deepen their understanding of the world's religions and to establish an awareness of the unity of all life. That is what has brought us to this point. As with all things, this event will come and go, but like a lingering fragrance, it will leave its imprint in our consciousness. When it has passed, we will pick up where we left off. The same work will be waiting for us, the same schedule, the same friends, the same world. The challenge before us will also be the same—to see the world with fresh eyes and to treat each moment as precious and extraordinary. May we rise to meet this challenge.

Originally printed in the Summer 2011 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation:  "From the Editor's Desk." Quest  99. 3 (Summer 2011): 82.

It's time for some straight talk about the Masters.

     Koot Hoomi, Morya, Hilarion, the Comte de St. Germain'the hidden Masters who, we are told, inspired and nurtured the fledgling Theosophical movement'are shadowy figures, as they no doubt meant to be. Human nature being what it is, speculation, imagination, and sheer fancy have been pulled in to fill in the gap of knowledge, with results ranging from the improbable to the comical. As Pablo Sender points out in his article in this issue, the Theosophical Masters are frequently confounded with the Ascended Masters of several New Age movements, although the Theosophical Masters never claimed to have "ascended" and indeed insisted that they were human beings in fleshly incarnation.

     How much of the early accounts of the Masters is truth, how much is speculation, and how much is sheer flapdoodle? I am sure that there are nearly as many opinions on this score as there are Theosophists, and since I did not witness those events, I can only respond to them with that old esoteric maxim "Neither accept nor reject."

     And yet some things can be said. In the first place, it seems misguided to dismiss the notion of the Masters as mere fiction. There are too many such figures on the fringes of history'forest-dwelling yogis, Sufi shaikhs, and individuals like the unnamed "Friend of God in the Highlands," a fourteenth-century German sage who provided guidance to the German mystic Johannes Tauler. There are also the Rosicrucian brothers, the maggids or inner-plane teachers of the Kabbalah, and the Immortals'the Taoist sages who are said to dwell undetected in the mountains of China. They all point to one conclusion: that the potential for human development is much greater than we usually believe and that some rare individuals over the centuries have realized this potential.

These stories, like those surrounding the Masters in the early days of Theosophy, are fascinating'too fascinating, perhaps. They have encouraged many to gauge their own expectations in the light of these accounts. But such expectations are unrealistic.

     To put the matter bluntly, if you are expecting a turbaned Master to materialize in your living room some evening, you are going to be disappointed. Whatever the early Theosophists did or did not experience, their contacts were of a unique time and place and are highly unlikely to be replicated for us 125 years later. It is probably safe to say that any meeting you may have with a genuine Master is not going to be what you expected.

     Why? At least two reasons suggest themselves. To begin with, a Master may be defined as someone who represents a level of knowledge higher than that of the student. If the Master is indeed embodying this higher level, he or she is not going to bear much resemblance to your preconceptions. After all, your expectations are based on lower-level concepts.

     Furthermore, development on the spiritual path requires one to penetrate the surfaces of ordinary reality and see beyond what is apparent. For those who fail to learn this elementary lesson, there are any number of posers with elaborate names and titles, pretentious costumes, and extravagant claims that will be more than happy to satisfy their expectations, usually for a handsome price.

     I remember one story of an individual I knew who was, if not a Master, certainly closer to one than anyone else I have ever known. He had taught his students a movement practice, and the students gave a performance of it one day. Two people who witnessed the show were leaders of another esoteric school, one reputed'and apparently with good reason'for being able to make things "go bump in the night." They ran up to the teacher and asked who was responsible for the performance. To which the man replied with a drawl, "I'm not really in charge...You have to go and find so-and-so"'indicating a pupil who was managing the event for the evening. And off the two went.

     Was the man playing games with them? As alleged adepts in their own right, should they have been able to see through his little subterfuge? Possibly. At the very least, the story teaches what most seekers either know or soon learn'that the trail to knowledge is not only hidden but deliberately hidden. This is not to create difficulties for their own sake; rather, it is to teach us to see past appearances. If we can't accomplish this, we are unlikely to go very far.

     Another story: some Kabbalistic traditions speak of the Messiah not as an individual who will come at the end of time, but as the spiritual head of humanity at any given point'an equivalent of the Sufi concept of the qutb or "Pole of the Age." According to this story, a man went to an esoteric school to meet a great Master and was kept waiting in the courtyard. In a corner of the courtyard he saw a man sweeping. The visitor recognized the sweeper as the Messiah. And the sweeper, seeing this, put his finger to his lips and said, "Shh."

     The punch line to this story: if you meet a Master, maybe the best thing to do is keep your mouth shut.

Richard Smoley

Originally printed in the Fall 2011 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Richard Smoley. "The Dalai Lama Comes to Chicago." Quest  99. 3 (Summer 2011): 126.

By Richard Smoley

The Theosophical Society presented its largest event in decades on July 17-18, 2011, when it hosted three appearances in Chicago by the Fourteenth Dalai Lama of Tibet. The theme was "Bridging the Faith Divide: Compassion in Action," emphasizing a major concern both for the Dalai Lama and for the TS leadership in recent years.

     At the first day's event, which took place at the University of Illinois in Chicago, the Dalai Lama addressed a crowd of over 8000. He was introduced by TS president Tim Boyd, who called him "one of the greatest people on the world stage today." Boyd noted that the Dalai Lama's first contact with the Society came during a visit to the Society's headquarters in Adyar, India, in 1956, during a trip that was only his second out of Tibet. The Dalai Lama confirmed this, saying that he was impressed by the atmosphere of the Adyar headquarters, which he said was both "spiritual" and "respectful of all religions."

     The Dalai Lama also congratulated the state of Illinois for its recent abolition of the death penalty and presented a traditional white blessing scarf to state Governor Pat Quinn, who was on hand for the event. "I think most religions [that] believe in God make a distinction between sin and sinner," the Dalai Lama said. "God condemns sin, but not a sinner. [For a] sinner, there must be forgiveness." Blessing scarves were also presented to Boyd and to former TS president Betty Bland.

     While the Dalai Lama's speech was sometimes hard to follow—he joked at one point about his broken English—his message was clear and compelling. For the last 3000-4000 years, he observed, the goal of religion has been "to help humanity, to bring inner peace. The use of religion for money, power, fame [is] not [the] proper use of religion." But it was these uses, he said, that are the leading causes of religious conflict in the world today. "Conflicts [are] not for the sake of religious faith, but for power."

     The Dalai Lama observed that there are some crucial differences among the world's religions, notably between the theistic faiths, such as Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, on the one hand, and the "nontheistic" faiths on the other, which, he said, included not only Buddhism but Jainism and the Samkhya school of Hinduism. "One [group of religions] has a creator, one does not," he pointed out. "To carry [the] message to followers, theistic religions use the idea of God. [The] real meaning of God," he said, is "infinite love and compassion." The nontheistic religions, by contrast, say that the universe arose out of "causes and conditions."

     Despite these differences, all religious traditions have the same goal, he went on to say. "Spirituality is like medicine for illness. Although there is a "variety of medicines for different illnesses, [medicine as a whole] has the same purpose—to bring better health to humanity." Religion can be seen as a medicine for the mind, he added.

     Nevertheless, the Dalai Lama also stressed that "there are honest, truthful people who are not religious. [For] basic human moral principles, religion [is] not necessary." This represented a key point in his discourse. The basis for universal understanding will never come through some kind of grand unification of religions, he contended, but rather by emphasizing the basic moral values that everyone, believer and nonbeliever alike, shares. The "number one commitment," he said, should be to promote "warm-heartedness" among all peoples.

     The Dalai Lama also emphasized the need for separation of religion from the state. "No one can force religious belief," he said. He held up India over the last thousand years as a model of tolerance and respect for all religions. On several occasions during the two-day event, he praised India and its heritage, noting that Buddhism was introduced to Tibet from India in the eighth century ad. "Every particle of my brain is filled with Indian thought," he observed at one point, adding, "For the last fifty years, my body [has been] sustained by Indian rice and dal," a lentil stew that is a staple of Indian cuisine.

     The Dalai Lama went on to warn against changing religious traditions. One reason for Buddhism's popularity in the West, he contended, was that "modern people love something new. For a few months, [they] show interest, then forget. Better to keep your own traditions—it is much safer. Otherwise [there is a] danger of confusion."

     The Dalai Lama concluded Sunday's gathering with several suggestions for promoting religious harmony. In the first place, he suggested meetings among scholars of different faiths to discuss their differences and similarities. Second, he said, it would be useful to have meetings of practitioners of each faith "who have some deeper experience." (He recounted a meeting of his own with a Catholic monk in Spain who had lived for five years as a hermit." The monk's summary of his experience was, according to the Dalai Lama, "meditate on love.") Third, he encouraged "group pilgrimages to different holy places of different religions," a practice he has engaged in since 1975. Finally, he said that conversations among religious leaders themselves were necessary.

     At the Monday event, which took place at Chicago's Harris Theater, the Dalai Lama conversed with religious leaders of the three Abrahamic faiths, in a panel moderated by Eboo Patel, a Muslim and founder of Interfaith Youth Core, an organization that brings together young people of different religious and moral traditions for cooperative service and dialogue. Other panelists were the Rev. Canon Peg Chemberlin, president of the National Council of Churches of Christ–USA; Rabbi Michael Lerner, a spiritual progressive and founder of Tikkun magazine; and Ingrid Mattson, former president of the Islamic Society of North America. (An interview with Mattson can be found on page TK of this issue.)

The Dalai Lama's comments on Monday were largely restatements of points he had made the previous day, although he also spoke out against blanket condemnation of any religious faith. "Some people generalize Islam as a militant religion," which, he said, was "unfair," calling it "totally mischievous" to stigmatize whole traditions. Actually, he said, there are a "few mischievous people" among all faiths.

     Among the panelists, Ingrid Mattson stressed that "personal encounter" was the key to success in interfaith activity, a point that was echoed by both of the other panelists. Chamberlain cited an instance of an interfaith service at the Roman Catholic Cathedral of St. Paul in Minneapolis on behalf of victims of the 2008 Minneapolis bridge collapse, while Lerner pointed out that it was exchanges between the Jewish theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel and Pope John XXIII that led to the elimination of anti-Jewish references in the Catholic liturgy after Vatican II.

     Lerner's were among the more interesting comments by panelists. He said that according to Judaism "a central part of our task is to embody God's being in our own reality....God-energy transforms the world from the way the world is to the way it ought to be." What ordinarily counts as "realism"—dismissing ideals and higher values as impractical—is, from a Jewish point of view, "idolatry," since the familiar reality of the world as we know it is not God, and it is wrong to put this reality above God. "Don't be realistic!" Lerner urged.

     In his address, the Dalai Lama said that it was "wrong to expect that everyone is going to be good. Even nonbelievers are part of humanity. Everyone wants to be happy. No one wants to be violent. Everyone wants peace, [a] happy life [in a] happy world." He added that "no one wants trouble"; people only act in violent ways "out of ignorance." He genially differed with Lerner's comments about realism, saying that "realistic action" was necessary. "You have to know [the] situation; wider investigation [is] necessary. You must be objective and realistic in order to develop."

     On Monday afternoon, there was a special event for members of the Theosophical Society, which chiefly consisted of a question-and-answer session. At one point the Dalai Lama asked Boyd, "Do you have publications?", to which Boyd replied, "Yes, Your Holiness, as a matter of fact, we published you," referring to the Dalai Lama's book The Opening of the Wisdom-Eye, published by Quest Books in 1966 and still in print. The Dalai Lama praised the TS highly, citing the organization's open-minded approach to the study of religion, science, and philosophy. In response to a question, he described his flight from Lhasa, Tibet's capital, on March 17, 1959 to escape invading Chinese troops, giving a powerful first-hand account of a major historical event by one of its chief participants.

     Despite some complaints by conference attendees about the sound quality, particularly of the Sunday event, the conference went smoothly and marked a major triumph for the Theosophical Society. The event had been organized in short notice; the date for it had only been set in February 2011. "From the beginning the event was planned in a way that would put the minimum stress on the TSA staff," Tim Boyd points out, adding, 'Of course 'minimum' is a very relative term. Every department and every staff member had some role in making the occasion a success. The sometimes hectic requirements of the event were met with poise and grace. One of our visiting members put it well when she said, 'I want to thank every staff member for the loving and patient way they served' during the conference. It was a good time to be a Theosophist."

Originally printed in the Fall 2011 issue of Quest magazine.
Citation: Smoley, Richard. "From the Editor's Desk." Quest 99.4 (FALL 2011):122

When you think about it, "initiate" is a peculiar word. In some occult literature, like the Initiate trilogy written in the 1920s and '30s by the Theosophist Cyril Scott, it denotes someone extremely advanced. And yet "initiate" means "beginner," someone who has just started something.

We might find a clue to this apparent contradiction in Buddhism, which speaks of the novice as a srotapanna, or "one who enters the stream." The image points to a key aspect of initiation: the fact that it opens one up to a stream of spiritual influence offered by a tradition.

What does initiation entail? To speak from my own reflection and experience, there are three basic levels. They may be conferred in formal rituals—of an organization known or unknown—although I suspect that at least in some cases no ritual, or only the most basic type of ritual, is involved.

The first could simply be called the initiation of responsibility. It marks a point at which the individual stands forward and freely agrees to accept the task of his or her own personal evolution—in Buddhist terms, entering the stream. Most people, however wise, educated, or successful, have not made any such commitment. They will develop and grow as the random circumstances of life permit. But the initiate at the first level makes this commitment to work upon self-development. In return he or she is (metaphorically) implanted with a kind of seed crystal that forms the core of the awakening self. Life starts to shape itself around this crystal and serves as a means of purging the initiate of the dross of his character.

This process of purification continues for a long time, years or more likely decades, and probably there are few initiates alive on earth who are not continuing to undergo it. But after the individual has reached some level of maturity, the time comes for a second initiation—the stage when he now takes on the additional responsibility of a task or line of work that he is uniquely able to pursue, such as healing, art, or social action. This is not necessarily a trade or profession in the ordinary sense, although it may well jibe with one's work in daily life. One could call this the initiation of vocation.

Having started on this line of work, the initiate then pursues it both for self-development and in service to a higher purpose. Inevitably the individual will make mistakes, will do some things well and others badly, and will suffer from lapses of judgment or even ethics. But they are part of the process of learning. If the initiate is made of good material (and the very fact of initiation suggests that he is), he will sort through his mistakes and learn the necessary lessons from them.

The third is the stage of mastery. This is not a matter of acquiring amazing mystical powers or superhuman capacities. But it does show that the individual has acted upon the responsibility he took on in the first initiation and developed the skills required in the second. He is not necessarily finished with these tasks, but he has acquired enough ability to work creatively and from his own initiative. He is now enabled to stake out new ground and expand humanity's range of knowledge.

While I am not a Freemason, these stages seem to correspond to the three levels of Blue Lodge Masonry: Entered Apprentice, Fellow Craft, and Master Mason. Some of those who have been raised to these levels (as Masons would put it) may be able to see the correspondences and could even explain some of the mysteries of these stages from details of the Masonic rites.

Theosophical literature (for example, The Secret Doctrine 1:206 and The Mahatma Letters, chronological edition, 189), speaks of seven stages of initiation, and you could spend a good deal of energy trying to figure out whether the additional four levels are superadded to these three or simply represent a finer subdivision of the same stages. (Another Theosophical scheme, discussed by Raul Branco in this issue, speaks of five initiations.) In any case, I myself suspect that there are many further levels that are not accessible or even comprehensible to someone living on earth. As Theosophy teaches, the process of evolution is virtually infinite, always with further to go and higher beings to learn from. Initiates, then, are well-named: however advanced they may be, they are still in a sense beginners.

Is self-initiation possible? The answer appears to be no. If you are entering a spiritual stream, it is a stream that already exists and there must be someone to introduce you to it. While many people have had spontaneous experiences of illumination, these are probably better described as moments of awakening or enlightenment than as initiation per se. And while some say they have received initiations on the inner planes, such cases seem highly prone to self-delusion, not to mention fraud. Even so, only a fool, I think, would state categorically that inner-plane initiation is impossible.

Finally, is initiation necessary for spiritual advancement? Again the answer seems to be no. The range of human experience is too vast, too well endowed with spontaneous awakenings and self-discovered insights, to suggest that formal initiation is always required for progress on the path. For some, it is not only valuable but necessary. Others do perfectly well without it. Why? The answer to this mystery no doubt lies in the uniqueness of the human individuality and the wide scope of circumstances that are needed to help it flourish.

—Richard Smoley