Paths To Enlightenment, Part Two

Bruce Bibee

 

“This is getting too technical … Just tell me how all this helps me get in touch with the God-within.”

In the Jewish tradition, the mystic path is the Kabbala. As with all mystic paths, the issue is not about salvation. Whereas salvation is the main path for humankind, mysticism is for those who aren’t satisfied with salvation and want to know God. The Kabbala offers Jews this opportunity according to a certain timetable.

As I noted in the last column, I’m working on a novel to bring these issues into light, and I’ll quote from the relevant sections of the novel to explain something of the Kabbala. The characters of this novel include: Robert, the master of the house who is a Christian knight during the end of the Crusading period; Father Keenan, an Irish priest following in the footsteps of Brendan the Navigator; Chiang, a Buddhist monk; Rachel, a Jewish midwife; Theresa, her apprentice; and Rabbi Ibrahim of the local Jewish congregation in medieval Cairo.

                During supper, Keenan could not help but talk theology. He was an inveterate seeker, and, probably, Robert surmised, would be until he died.

                “Tell us of the Kabbala,” Keenan said to Ibrahim.

                The rabbi sat for a moment, considering his answer, then said, “It is for those men who are at least forty years old and are ready. Before that, they study the Torah and the Talmud.”

                Seeming to miss, or choosing to ignore, the fact that there were women in the room, and at least three people under forty, Keenan pressed on, “It is the esoteric knowledge of Judaism, is it not?”

                Robert watched the rabbi struggle to maintain his need for courtesy and his competing need to defer the question -- a question, it was now obvious, that would not be deferred. Presently, the rabbi said, “It is, Father, and I am reluctant to discuss it here.”

                Keenan’s eyes opened wide in surprise, “I apologize if I’ve violated some rules about discussing it. We seem to talk about all sorts of interesting things at this table. Chiang, for example, has entertained us with lovely riddles designed to interrupt the ‘monkey-mind,’ as he calls it. I especially like the one that went, ‘The stone Buddha deserves all the birdshit it gets. I wave my skinny arms like a tall flower in the wind’.” Keenan chuckled at his offering of a Zen saying and went back to eating.

                The rabbi laughed as well and said, “In the Zohar, there are similar sayings. Messages meant to stop the mind.”

                Keenan perked up at this, “The Zohar is from Spain, I think. It’s a study guide for kabbalists.”

                “Yes,” the rabbi said, and seemed to relax. “In the history of the Kabbala, there is a story about four rabbis who were brought to see God. One went mad; one died on the spot; one became an apostate; and the fourth one departed in peace. The point of the story is: without being fully grounded in the Torah, the Talmud, and all the Jewish traditions, man cannot safely gaze upon the Divine.”

In the study of the Kabbala, there is a deepening. One passes through the obvious meaning of scripture to the esoteric layers. These layers are hard to express verbally (since they are all trans-rational), but we are doomed, I think, to make the attempt. In a later passage, Ibrahim makes the attempt.

                One of the more potent names of God is YHWH. In Hebrew, yod, heh, waw, heh. Ibrahim explained the significance of these letters to them thus:

                “You will like this name of God,” he prefaced. They were seated with him in the courtyard, and the evening shadows were casting their discussion into the twilight realm between day and night. Servants were lighting the candles and torches as Ibrahim went on, “Yod means ‘hand,’ and represents the active force in creation.”

                “Like the yang in the Eastern way of looking at things,” Keenan commented and looked to Chiang for confirmation. Chiang smiled his assent.

                Ibrahim continued, “Heh is used to denote the feminine. It’s usually an ending to nouns. So, here, it represents the passive aspect of creation.”

                “The yin force,” Keenan observed.

                Ibrahim nodded and said, “Waw is a connecting word, like ‘and.’ Here it means the reconciliation of the active and passive forces of creation.”

                Keenan switched his frame of reference to say, “This would be the Holy Trinity. Father, represented by Yod; Son, represented by Heh; and Holy Spirit, represented by Waw. But what is the final Heh for?”

                Ibrahim smiled at him, then answered, “The consequences or results of this tripart union -- Creation itself. And, you must remember, all great civilizations have discovered this underlying Mystery. With the Egyptians, it was referred to as Osiris, Isis and Horus. With our Hindu friends in India, it was Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva.”

                “The Buddhists,” Chiang spoke up, “define this by identifying the ‘three poisons.’ Ignorance, desire and anger. These are off-set by the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha. The Taoists, on the other hand, talk of Heaven, Earth and Man.”

                “So, it seems,” Ibrahim concluded, “we have all determined a ‘holy trinity’ as the foundation of Creation.”

                Keenan pursed his mouth as he thought of a response, and his body language indicated he was struggling with these concepts. At length, he said, “The difference between the Christian Trinity and these others is the Personhood we assign to it. Christians see each ‘force’ as an actual Person; in effect, a separate God who are all a part of the Divine Mystery of the Trinity.”

                “True,” Ibrahim agreed, “and much of the early dialogue among Christians was about the nature of each Person in the Trinity. Indeed, the Nicaean Creed could be viewed as a refutation of all the heresies that came from this dialogue.”

                “This is getting too technical,” Robert said. “Just tell me how all this helps me get in touch with the God-within.”

                Ibrahim laughed, his aged face creased into a rare beauty Robert noted. The rabbi said, “Where would be the fun in that, Robert? Jews find great joy in debating just these issues.”

                “Maybe so,” Robert grinned. “But it gives me a headache.”

To get in touch with the God-within, the Kabbala uses the structure of the Tree of Life, the ten limbs of the Sefirot. The Sefirot is a complex series of paired dualities that are mitigated by a balancing virtue. Ibrahim explained it this way: “Strength is opposed by Lovingkindness,” he lectured. “Both are balanced by Beauty. But Splendor, opposed by Victory, are also balanced by Beauty. This means you can also link Strength and Victory or Lovingkindness and Splendor, because they all hold Beauty in common. What we mean by Beauty, though, is Harmony. When we are in a state of Harmony, we are at peace with ourselves by balancing Strength, Victory, and so on.” Our cast of characters took this topic up in a later conversation.

                 “God,” Chiang said with some disdain. “For children, god is a parent. For a young person, god is some bearded fellow keeping score of your good deeds and bad deeds. For an older person, god becomes Reason. But then what? What god lies beyond Reason?”

                Rachel was challenged by the monk’s tone. She rose to the bait, “We know what is beyond Reason. It’s the Tree of Life we’ve been studying. The Zohar spells out, in vivid detail, the different aspects of God. We have been meditating on Beauty, Glory, Judgment, and Mercy. These emanations, the Sefirot, are what we can know of God. And we are continuing with our religious observances, service to others, and maintaining our ethics. Those are what the Kabbala require.”

                Chiang maintained a passive, bemused expression on his round face. At length, he said, “So, god becomes the Sefirot after we transcend Reason. What does he become after the Sefirot?”

                “Ibrahim told us,” Rachel pressed on, “the universe comes into being as an emanation first. Then it moves to creation, formation and manifestation. There is nothing prior to emanation, except God the Great Mystery.”

                “Ah, the Great Mystery,” Chiang said. “That’s the one I want to know.”

Bruce Bibee is a licensed professional counselor and a kung-fu instructor. You can reach him at his office: 562-1242.

Paths To Enlightenment

"Feudal to Freetown"

Bruce Bibee

 

“The spirituality that values women, values nature, and puts into practice the active ministry of Jesus…is a direct threat to Rome.”

The breakdown of the feudal system began in the 1100s, gained momentum with the Magna Carta (1215), and became an irresistible force with the death of Emperor Frederick II (1250).

Feudalism, as an unholy marriage between the Church and the feudal lord, served to enslave the people of the land. The freetown arose to compete against feudalism’s arbitrary and brutal rules. The freetowns needed military protection in an age where might did make right, and the kings of Germany, France and England began the process of granting charters to towns and cities. These charters expressed the evolving relationship between the governed and their king. This gave rise to the Third Estate — burghers, industrialists, merchants, local sheriffs and their constabulary, the judiciary, the merchant and artisan guilds, and local administrators. These charter-cities became the trading centers, the arsenals and emporiums of Europe, because they held the human talent and genius of Europe.

As their power and wealth grew, each city contracted armies for defense, though their main goal was self-preservation, not extending territorial power. Conversely, the feudal system required a constant expansion of territory. Therefore, feudalism waxed and waned alongside the freetowns until 1415, when feudalism finally collapsed.

Because of the different social environment created by the freetowns, new experiments in spiritual expression emerged in the early 1300s. In a fictional work I’m writing, I examine this very topic. In the following scene, six compatriots are engaged in a discussion with Meister Eckhart, a Dominican teacher and mystic of that age. Eckhart has just finished a description of the above-mentioned political situation in the Rhineland:

                Eckhart smiled and said, “What kind of spirituality grows in the environment I just described?”

                This question caught William by surprise. He had never thought of spirituality the same way one might think of growing vegetables. He shrugged his answer and finally returned the priest’s smile.

                “Have you heard of Hildebrand of Bingen? Or Saint Elizabeth of Thuringia ? Or Mechtild of Magdeburg ? Or the order of lay women, the Beguines, who administer to the poor?”

                William had heard the names, somewhere along the line, but wasn’t acquainted with the lives of these women and said so.

                Eckhart continued, “The spirituality that seems to be growing along the Rhineland is one that values women, values nature, and puts into practice the active ministry of Jesus. And, I fear, this type of spirituality is a direct threat to Rome.”

                “As we may be a direct threat if our spirituality becomes known,” William concluded as a comment on Templar spirituality.

The Beguines started out in the Netherlands, and had been recognized by Gregory IX, in 1233, and placed under the protection of the papacy. It eventually fell to the Dominicans to be their spiritual advisors. The Beguines, however, were not nuns. That station was actually forbidden to them, because nuns came from the noble class and paid a dowry to enter a convent. The Beguines, by contrast, were women who come together, beginning in 1223 at the instigation of two sisters from Cologne , to develop themselves spiritually and minister to others. They took no formal vows, which freed them from dependence on the Church, and supported themselves as artisans and craftspersons.

                Eckhart said of them, “They are the true parallel to the friars.”

                Dominicans and Franciscan friars were founded for active ministry in the world, such as preaching and missionary or social work. Friars, as a result, moved around more than monks, who generally spent most of their lives in monasteries. Eckhart was saying that the Beguines did the same thing — active ministry in the world.    

In a continuation of this topic, our band of fellow-travelers, William, Robert, Keenan, Theresa, Rachel and Ian meet with Eckhart in his hometown of Cologne.

                They entered into the priory’s common room, and Eckhart alerted the staff that he would be entertaining guests. They sat around a polished wood table, in high-back chairs, and the servants quickly placed pitchers of beer, platters of cheese and bread, and then just as quickly withdrew.

                Keenan took it upon himself to state their current spiritual dilemma. He said, in the diplomatic way of someone well-traveled in the world, “I find it an odd coincidence that our question for you has to do with female spirituality. You have been telling us that the Beguines, whom you minister to, have taught you as much as you’ve taught them.”

                Eckhart, his blues eyes sparkling with the perpetual mirth he seemed to embody, replied, “I’m not sure, anymore, that there are such things as coincidences.”

                The six of them laughed at that, and Theresa said, “When you were in Basel, you spoke to the men about equality.” Her emphasis on the word, men, brought a smile to Robert’s mouth. Theresa hadn’t liked the idea of being kept out of a discussion simply because she was female.

                Eckhart cleared his throat and tentatively said, “I did. We were talking about the nature of God, and I said God was found when we could approach Him equally as His children.”

                “But how can women be equal in this world?” Theresa challenged. “We are relegated to the role of daughters of Eve, agents of the Devil, temptresses who lead men into evil. How can we attain equality?”

                Eckhart sighed and drank from his mug. Then he answered, “The Beguines are showing us how that is accomplished. Just as the friars showed us how to reclaim Jesus’ simple messages.”

                Rachel spoke then, “But this message of your Christ must also be in the Torah.”

                Eckhart eyed the Jewish woman for a moment, then said, “In Psalms you can find this: ‘Treat me tenderly, and I shall live, since your Law is my delight.’ Which is in Psalm 119.”

                Rachel turned to Robert, who now smiled broadly and said, “When we were living in Cairo, we asked a rabbi to help us know the Kabbala. He had us study Psalm 119. This particular verse we interpreted to mean that ‘joy’ is a spiritual emotion.”

                Eckhart nodded and added, “I interpret it to mean that all creatures, indeed all things, love God. They do so because God is Being. God is in all things. And if we separate ourselves from God, we separate ourselves from being. We become spiritually dead — which is what sin is: a journey into non-being.”

                “And the Torah,” Rachel concluded, “is a journey into life — oneness with God, interdependency with God, and living God’s compassion for All.”

                “Which is supposed to be a ‘delight’,” Eckhart smiled at her. “Not a duty, nor even a burden.”

                Theresa piped up again, “But it’s become a burden. When God threw Adam and Eve out of the Garden, He told them they would struggle. Man’s struggle would be different than the struggle a woman would go through, and that’s the burden we want to know about.”

                William, who was sitting next to the chaplain, Ian, was taken aback by the forthrightness of Theresa. She debated like a man, he thought, but he knew her spirituality ran deep. In other words, she had more authority than most men to claim a right to debate these themes.

                William spoke then, “The ‘burden’ Jesus gave us is amply defined in the Gospel of John, chapter 15.”

                Theresa looked at him puzzled, as did Rachel, but the others began chuckling as they remembered that chapter of John’s Gospel. Theresa looked to Robert for an answer.

                “It’s the whole story about Jesus being a vine and the Father as the vinedresser,” Robert said. “We are commanded to bear much fruit, keep the commandments, love one another, and to lay down your life for your friends. It’s one of the scriptures we studied at length as Templar knights.”

                “But what does this have to do with our burden?” Theresa asked. “We, the daughters of Eve —”

                Eckhart intervened, “I can explain this from the New Testament, but a rabbi would be helpful to draw out the parallels in the Torah. In the Gospels, there is the story of Martha and Mary, friends of Jesus whom he visits. Most theologians see one as a spiritual recluse and the other as a woman of the world. They represent the two choices available to women. But what I’m learning from the Beguines is that there is a third choice: to be in the world doing God’s work — like the friars.”

                Robert challenged this with, “How is that going to be different from ‘the noble pleasure of serving others,’ which is what Rabbi Ibrahim told Rachel she had to let go of?”

                Eckhart smiled and said, “Which is one way to define ‘Eve’s burden,’ isn’t it?”  

                “Yes,” Rachel answered.

                “It we follow the story of Mary and Martha,” Eckhart said, “we might find an answer.”

                “I don’t know the story,” Rachel said.

                “Nor do I,” Theresa added.

                “It’s a rather simple one,” Eckhart said. “Jesus comes for a visit. Martha is the older sister of Mary, and she scurries around serving Jesus with refreshments and so on. Mary becomes enraptured by Jesus’ words and completely forgets to help out. Martha chides her by saying, ‘Lord, tell her to help me out.’ Now, the normal interpretation of this is that Mary had chosen the better way — the way of seclusion, sitting raptly at Jesus’ feet, and drinking in his wisdom. But I don’t think that is accurate. I think Martha was concerned for her sister. She was concerned that Mary would begin to believe that she could do anything so long as she was sitting at Jesus’ feet. Martha was concerned that Mary would progress no farther than her own longing, and because of that she would fail to realize that she was desired. She sat there, at our Lord’s feet, not for spiritual gain but for pure pleasure.”

                Ian interrupted for the first time. The reticent, seemingly invisible, chaplain said, “You are saying that Mary made some self-indulgent mistake. But in John, chapter 12, Jesus encourages his disciples to be with him, ‘While you still have the light.’ Were they immature as well, and Jesus was helping them stabilize in their faith?”

                “Yes. Contemplation must be combined with action, which they were unable to do until after the first Pentecost,” Eckhart answered. Then he smiled at them, an inclusive smile that radiated over the whole table. “It is so good to be able to talk this way with people who understand what I’m saying. There are so many clerics, priests, bishops, even popes who have completely misunderstood what Jesus was all about.”

                “Thank you,” Rachel replied. “But please continue with this story of Martha and Mary.”

                “Yes,” Eckhart said, still smiling at them. “Jesus answered Martha’s prodding of Mary by saying, ‘Martha, Martha, you are concerned, you are upset about many things. One thing is necessary! Mary has chosen the better part, which can never be taken from her.’ Now, we know Jesus was not rebuking Martha because he used her name twice. The living God never calls anyone by their name if they are lost to him. So, Martha was not a lost soul. But why call her name twice? I believe Jesus first acknowledged her abilities in the world. Then, he acknowledged her abilities in spirit.”

                Rachel was nodding her head. She may not have been a rabbinical scholar, but she was knowledgeable. She murmured in agreement, “In Exodus, God tells Moses, ‘I have known you by name.’ There is something about ‘naming’ that is analogous to us knowing our true natures.”

                  Eckhart went on, “Yes. There is that. And when Jesus remarked, ‘You are concerned,’ he meant that Martha had gotten herself bogged down by feeling hindered in her pursuits. Whereas, those who are focused on God are guided by the Light and do not feel hindered.”

                Keenan sought to restate Eckhart’s argument so far, “So, Mary was exhibiting a spiritual immaturity, an infatuation fed by divine feelings; Martha, by contrast, was beyond this phase, but was laboring in the world without the relief of a divine focus.”

                “And Martha was, as a result, beginning to operate in resentment,” Eckhart added. “We must work from within God’s compassion and justice, Jesus was reminding her. When we work in the world that way, we cannot be hindered; nor can we develop resentment.”

                Robert asked, “The next phrase, ‘you are upset about many things’ — is that just a reiteration of the ‘you are concerned’ statement?”

                “Mostly, yes,” Eckhart answered. “We are placed in time so that we come close to God and become more like him through ‘pursuits’ that are enlightened by our reason. If we engage in those ‘pursuits’ for their own sake, or for the sake of our human selves, we descend into the flesh. But, when we let the Light shine our way through these ‘pursuits,’ we make our way to God.”

                “You’re telling us that contemplation and action can be combined into a spiritual discipline,” Keenan said. “Not only that, but this discipline combines compassion and justice — social justice, I assume — and you call for us to enlighten the world by our work in the world.”

                “It is what the Beguines have taught me is possible,” Eckhart smiled at them. “They have solved the puzzle Rachel is seeking a solution for.”

Bruce Bibee, MTP, is a Licensed Professional Counselor and a Kung-Fu San Soo Master. You can reach him at 562-1242.