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The Unseen Order
The world’s great wisdom traditions have one
thing in common: they affirm that there is an unseen order, and
the supreme good in life lies in finding the right relationship
to that.[i] This was the conclusion reached by the American
psychologist and philosopher William James after a lifetime of
study and reflection. But this statement only leads most of us
to a plethora of questions. What is this “unseen order”?
Does it really exist? If it is “unseen,” how
can we come to know it? And how, if we choose to make the effort,
do we go about finding the right relationship to it?
To consider these questions, let us start as
far back as the visible record goes. More than 50,000 years ago,
people in Europe and Africa were making elaborate drawings on
cave walls and rock outcroppings. In Europe, they would make
their way into caves and draw very elaborate figures on the cave
walls––going to a great deal of
trouble to fill those caves with very beautiful, stylized images.
And make no mistake, there was a lot of time and effort involved.
They had to prepare the pigments, find a way to light the caves
while they worked, and sometimes build structures in order to reach
inaccessible places. As far as we can surmise, however, all this
effort wasn’t about finding food, or shelter, or sexual fulfillment—or
even about propagating the species.
One could think of these caves as early art
galleries, but if so, they certainly were not designed for frequent
viewing; just to access them is difficult, and the problem of
lighting them sufficiently for viewing with the resources available
at that time would have been very challenging. Given all
this, the best guess has to be that these works of art deep in
the earth had something to do with the religious or spiritual
aspirations of their creators. No
other motivation—at least none that we can recognize
today—seems strong enough to explain these extraordinary
paintings. This is the conclusion of David Lewis-Williams,
a scholar who has spent a lifetime studying rock art, or cave art
as it is also called. In his book, The Mind In The Cave,
he concludes that these drawings grew out of rituals in the shamanic
tradition of the time, helping to provide a feeling of connection
with the spiritual realm for these early peoples—often through
an experience or ordeal in an inaccessible place. Thus the
creation of these drawings in sometimes difficult to access caves.
It is therefore quite likely that more than
50,000 years ago, our ancestors were trying to find the “right relationship” to
the “unseen order.” And this conclusion fits perfectly
with what we know of later civilizations. From the earliest
eras in recorded history, human beings have spent an incredible
amount of time, energy, and money in trying to develop and express
a connection to and relationship with that which they perceived
to be a higher power. If we briefly scan the globe with our
mind’s eye, we get a glimpse of the immensity of this human
enterprise: massive temples to Egyptian Gods, and elaborate Egyptian
burial chambers designed to carry those being buried to the “unseen
order”; thousands of temples and statues in ancient Greece,
erected to honor the Gods of Olympus; thousands of temples throughout
the Indian sub-continent and Southeast Asia, built for the Gods
of the Hindu pantheon; thousands of temples to and statues of the
Buddha throughout Asia; great, sometimes intricately decorated
mosques all over the Middle East; beautiful synagogues wherever
the Jewish people settled; and the majestic cathedrals of the European
Middle Ages.
The list could of course be much longer, but
it is only important to realize that many of the great buildings
of the world, throughout human history, were built with a religious
or spiritual purpose in mind. People were trying to get into the “right
relationship” to something they perceived as greater than
themselves. And this process continues unabated today.
As with buildings, so with all kinds of art. Much of the
art of the world was created within a religious or spiritual context. From
the earliest clay figures found around the world, through the later
elaborations of many different kinds of pottery, to sculpture,
woodcarvings, handicrafts, and paintings, a majority of the images
and symbols depicted throughout human history have been religious
or spiritual in nature. For direct confirmation of this,
one need only walk through any of the great museums of the world.
The same is true of music: throughout the ages,
much of the world’s
music was created for religious ceremony, ritual, or celebration.
And so with the written word. The libraries of every land
are filled with religious and spiritual texts, commentaries on
those texts, explanations of those texts, and individual accounts
of religious and spiritual experiences. No other topic has
occupied as much of our creative and intellectual effort. If
we look closely, we see that much of philosophy, all of theology,
and much of literature, story, and poetry throughout the world
has been concerned with trying to understand the “unseen
order” and in trying to find the right relationship to it
in the living of life. Or with describing people’s
successes—and failures—in this endeavor.
In fact, when one contemplates the amount of
time and energy we humans have given to religious and spiritual
art, architecture, and music (to creativity of all kinds); to
crafts and to the construction of many of the great buildings
of the world; and to the verbal and intellectual arenas of philosophy,
theology, poetry, literature, myth, and story, it is so vast
as to be hard to comprehend. And
this does not even include the amount of time humans have spent
through the ages in prayer, meditation, spiritual pilgrimage, and
religious services of all kinds.
The Reality of the Unseen[ii]
Of course, that we humans have given so much
time and attention to religious and spiritual activities does
not prove anything about the “reality of the unseen,” to use William James’s
famous phrase. It only proves that most human beings throughout
history have considered this project, this task of finding the
right relationship to the unseen order, to be extremely important.
We can also quickly notice that different peoples have understood
the unseen order in different ways, that they have come to different
understandings about what the right relationship to it might be,
and they have had many different theories about how one should
go about establishing the right relationship to it. But this does
not diminish the observation that the underlying urge to make such
an effort has been strongly and consistently present for most human
beings in every culture and every age.
Why might this be so? There are many possible answers to
this question, from Freud’s assertion that religion is like
a neurosis, an unconscious expression of repressed sexual desires,
to Marx’s cry that religion is “the opium of the people,” keeping
the burdened and oppressed of the earth from breaking out of their
chains, all the way over to the mystics’ quiet assertion
that in fact, there IS an unseen order, which most of us don’t
perceive clearly because we have not trained ourselves to see it.
The other thing we can observe is that for
thousands of years, human beings have argued and fought over
the existence and nature of this unseen order—what it is like, and how it can best
be approached. Probably no other topic has caused as much strife,
bitterness, hatred—even bloodshed. Again, this does
not prove it’s existence or non-existence, but it certainly
proves that it is and always has been a topic of utmost importance
to human beings.
How can we come to a better understanding of
this drive within the human race? The great mythologist
Mircea Eliade, who studied the belief systems of dozens of cultures
all over the world, came to the conclusion that every culture
he had studied incorporated in some way an understanding of two
kinds of time: the ordinary time of our everyday activities,
which he labeled profane
time, and a time that had to do with a different
order of reality, which he came to call sacred time. As
Keith Thompson expressed this idea, “the ancient Greeks conceived
of the ordinary passage of time—incessant, impersonal, non-negotiable—as
belonging to the god Kronos, from whose adventures the term chronology
is drawn.”[iii] But they also “realized
that all time is not ‘ordinary.’ They reserved the term Kairos
for special time: moments when the extraordinary punctuates mundane
existence, reminding that the origin of being is ever-present,
overflowing with what the word ‘holy’ speaks of.”[iv]
After
documenting at great length the existence of these two ways of
thinking about time, Eliade came to an extraordinary observation:
that in every culture he had studied, meaning
always arose from sacred time. Thus if we humans want to find meaning in our
lives, and if Mircea Eliade is right, this is one crucial reason
we as a species have focused so much time and attention on what
is often thought of as “the sacred.”
But how to understand this—that meaning always comes from
sacred time. One way to get at it would be to look at how value
and meaning systems have arisen in human history. If we examine
this question closely, we see that most human cultures, with their
ideas about how we should live, what is important, which values
we should live by—at least the systems that have endured—have
not been founded on principles that grew out of ordinary events,
or ordinary time. They have not arisen when someone said: “Hey,
I was thinking that maybe we ought to try out this belief system
for a while.”
Rather, a person went off to a mountain, or
a forest, or a desert, and after some time there, came back and
said to the people of the community or tribe, “I have seen the truth. This is how
we should live, this is what is really important, these are the
values we must live by.“ They reported an encounter
with something outside the everyday world (outside of ordinary
time) which gave guidance as to what was ultimately important in
human life. And it is to these value and meaning systems that most
human cultures have referred in formulating their belief systems.
Just so, Moses went up the mountain, and came
back with the Ten Commandments to guide his people. Jesus spent 40 days in
the wilderness, then came back and began his teaching about what
the kingdom of heaven is like—and how to get there. Mohammed
spent many months in meditation and prayer, and only then followed
the vision that gave rise to the Koran and the birth of Islam. The
Buddha left his home and family and spent many years as a wandering
ascetic, finally sitting in stillness under the bodhi tree for
many days until he saw his truth. Only after these experiences
did he begin to teach his realization. Plato sought wisdom
for many years, and finally came to describe what he had found—a
world of Ideas, of Pure Form, that lay outside this everyday world
but gave meaning to our lives in it—if we could live in the
right relationship to it. Lao Tzu described his lifetime’s
realization of what lay behind the everyday world: “There
was something formless and perfect before the universe was born. .
. . I will call it the Tao.”[v] And his guidance? To
find fulfillment, we must live our lives in accordance with this
Tao. In the Upanishads of Hinduism, we read “Self is
everywhere, shining forth from all beings, vaster than the vast,”[vi] And
life’s purpose? To recognize our relationship as one
with that.
There are many, many other examples that could
be given, but the point is clear: most of the world’s belief and value systems
have been defined by people who described the origins of those
systems as arising from experiences that took place outside of
ordinary time. Or who maintained that the beliefs and values
they espoused had come to them from a source transcending the everyday
world—who said that the beliefs and values they promulgated
had to do with something they had perceived that was outside everyday
time, but which gave meaning to our lives in this ordinary world.
Lest we make the mistake of thinking this is
only about the past, however, it is crucial to recognize that
most human beings today were born and raised in cultures that
trace their teachings back to one of these transcendent meaning
and value systems. At this very moment, the values and beliefs
that are being taught to children all over the world—and that give rise to how children today
will live, and how they will understand the world—come from
systems of thought that fit Mircea Eliade’s definition as
arising from “sacred time.”
This is not to say that all these teachings
are the same. They
are not. And it offers no judgment as to which value and
belief systems might be true or “right.” It is only
to demonstrate William James’s point that all wisdom traditions
in the world have one thing in common: the view that there is an
unseen order, and that the highest purpose of life is to find the
right relationship to that.
The Most Important Things
Another way to approach this idea is to look
at the things that are important to us in our lives—the things that motivate
our actions. In the everyday world, most humans are highly motivated
by several things: getting enough to eat, finding a safe place
to live and a comfortable place to sleep, and trying to make sure
these things will be available for the foreseeable future. We
humans, along with all animal species, are also powerfully motivated
to fulfill our sexual urges—especially in the late teen and
early adult years. And when our sexual activity leads to
offspring, most of us share with all creatures great and small
a deep-seated instinct to nurture and care for the young.
If these needs and urges are more or less fulfilled,
we might then focus our attention on acquiring a certain amount
of power and control over our environment (and sometimes over
the people around us). Some of us are further motivated to use our time
and energy in acquiring fame, earning the esteem of others, or
pursuing adventure, excitement and entertainment. Others
of us turn our efforts toward increasing the prestige and power
of a group we identify with—family, clan, tribe, sect, or
country.
For many of us, an additional and powerful current in our lives
is the urge to be creative: to bring something into existence that
did not exist before, to make the objects we see and use pleasing
to look at, to design and make decorations for our structures that
delight the eye, to create music, poetry, literature and plays
to stimulate, entertain, challenge, and inform. The urge to create
is one of the strongest currents in human life.
Many of us also seem to have an inherent drive
to acquire knowledge, to learn things of all sorts. Sometimes
this urge to learn has to do with the acquisition of skills that
will be useful in fulfilling other goals, but there also seems
to be a pure desire to learn, to acquire knowledge for its own
sake. Some of us seem to find a pure pleasure, a delight even,
in the process of learning itself.
But if we look closely at this list of the
motivations running through us, we become painfully aware that
we face endless questions as to which are the most important,
which will take precedence over others as we go about living
our lives. We see that
there are inherent conflicts between the various currents competing
for our time and energy and attention. These primary motivations
are, in a sense, the raw materials with which we work throughout
our lives. But nothing within these motivations themselves gives
us any guidance as to how to most beneficially allocate time and
effort to one instead of another. In fact, the competition
for time and attention between these different currents is one
of the great dilemmas of life.
Next, we can see that there is nothing within
these currents themselves to help us decide how our urges and
desires will relate to the urges and desires of others, of the “others” we encounter
as we go through the day. What happens when I want something
that you want—how do we deal with that? What happens
if you take something from me? I from you? How will conflicts be
resolved? Wars justified or avoided? Murder sanctioned or punished?
Stealing winked at or condemned?
And further still, how will we deal with the
losses and failures that inevitably arise as we seek to fulfill
our primal urges and desires? With no more than a cursory look at our own lives,
and the lives of the people around us, we can see that at times
most of us suffer loss, failure, sadness, and hurt. How will we
incorporate these feelings and experiences into the way we think
about our lives? How will we understand them? How will
we make sense of them?
All this is to say that although our most basic motivations take
up much of the time and energy of life, nothing within them provides
an answer to the most important questions we face, questions such
as:
What are the most important goals and visions
of my life?
Which ones will I focus on to the exclusion
of others? Who will I love?
Will I ever sacrifice something I want
for another’s
sake?
Will I give time and attention to the religious or spiritual
dimension? If so, how will I approach that? How much time
and energy will I give it?
Will I use my creativity to pursue fame
and fortune? Or is there some deeper inspiration at work that I
must listen to in order to fulfill the creative urge?
If I enjoy
learning, will I just learn random facts, or are some kinds of
knowledge of greater value to me than others? If so, which kinds?
How do I decide that?
What is wisdom? What is its role in my life?
How do I acquire it?
These are only a few of the many internal questions
we face in trying to sort out our lives. They are the questions about
values and meanings that we humans seem to have so deeply embedded
in us. And it is very important to recognize that the basic urges
and desires we feel do not answer, but instead lead us to, these
questions. We could of course simply follow whatever whims
arise in us from moment to moment. But the unanimous teaching of
all cultural traditions is that this doesn’t work very well—and
if you have ever tried this path, or watched someone trying it,
you have first-hand knowledge of its inefficacy.
Then how do these questions find answers in
us? This is exactly what Mircea Eliade was pointing to: the fact
that in every culture he studied, answers to these meaning questions
arose from sacred time, from someone’s teaching that had as its core reference
the “unseen order.”
These internal questions are joined by an equally difficult set
of questions concerning how we will relate to other people, and
to the society we live in:
Will I ever choose to
limit the actions I take in expressing my sexual urges? Will I limit those actions only out of fear
of rejection or reprisal? What about respect for another
person, or commitment to someone else, or concern for the effect
my actions might have on the one I desire?
If I can take by force what I want, is there any reason, other
than fear of reprisal, I might choose not to do so?
What values will I live by, sacrifice for?
What is right? What is
fair? What is just? How can I know these things? ---- Do
I care?
Will I do what I believe is right and fair and just even if it
costs me something that is important to me?
Will I help other people,
give to others, be of service in some way? ---- If
so, how? And why?
Will I commit my time and energy to a cause or an idea I believe
in, even if it takes time and energy away from my more basic urges
and desires?
These are the questions, as opposed to our
primal urges and desires, that concern the values we will live
by—both within ourselves
and in relation to others. And these are the questions about the
meaning of our experiences, how we will come to understand and
give meaning to our lives.
So to reemphasize the key point, most human
communities throughout history have attributed their answers
to these questions to something that transcended their everyday
experience. Almost every culture has a creation story, a story
of where people came from, and embedded in these stories is guidance
as to how people should live. These are the stories that provide
guidance about the meanings and values that are crucial to life
in the culture or community— the
values and meanings that are taught to the young as they are inculturated
into the community’s life. (Inculturated seems to me to convey
my intent better than the commonly used acculturated.)
As you read through the above questions, you
may well have answers within yourself to a number of them. Many people do. But
ask yourself for a moment; where did the answers that spring up
within me to these meaning and value questions come
from? If
you stay on this train of thought for a little distance, you will
discover that your answers arise from an amalgam of things you
were taught as a child, blended with the points of view you have
encountered while reading about and listening to the influential
people in your life. And where did these teachings conveyed to
you by the formative figures in your life come from? If you
continue this process, what you will find is that almost all such
teachings hark back to the great wisdom traditions of human history.
And almost uniformly, both the founders and the followers of these
traditions believed they originated in the “unseen” domain. This
is what led to Eliade’s assertion that in every culture he
had studied, meanings and values did not come from people’s
experience of their everyday urges and desires, but from something
which they felt was transcendent to that.
Alternatives to the Transcendent
Once again, this common thread of looking to
the transcendent dimension for guidance in finding the meanings
and values around which we will organize our lives does not prove
the existence of this dimension. But it does demonstrate how universal the
belief in it has been—and is. Further, it points to
a great dilemma if one wishes to organize in any other way. If
there is no transcendent guidance concerning meanings and values,
what right does one person have to assert that another person should
accept any belief or value they don’t agree with—ever? If
there is no transcendent dimension to which we can refer, then
the only basis for any assertion by one person in relation to another
is pure power. If I have enough force, I can make you do what I
want. If I want your money, and I am strong enough, I will
take it. If I want to have sex with you, or to kill you,
and I am strong enough—and there is no one whose power I
fear who might retaliate—then I can do it if I choose.
You could of course argue that it is in my
self-interest not to steal, or rape, or kill. But if I don’t see it that
way, on what basis can you assert that I should not follow my urge
to act as I want to act. You could try to persuade me, but
what if I am not persuaded? What right do you then have to
tell me what to do if your beliefs are not grounded in something
larger than your personal opinion?
What about the vote of a majority of our community,
or tribe, or country? Well, yes, this might help. But on what
will the values of this majority be based? As we have seen,
in human history cultural rules and values have almost always been
attributed to a transcendent dimension. If we cannot ground
our communal values and beliefs there, what is left but power? So,
if a majority of people in a certain place and time want to use
another group of people as slaves, and they have the power to do
so, what is the argument against this? If a majority want
to create gas chambers to kill those who they don’t like,
what argument does one use to stop them? If the majority
of people in a tribe or nation want to go to war with a neighboring
country to take its land and wealth, on what basis would we try
to persuade them otherwise?
We could argue that there is something inside
human beings—something
immanent in us—that guides the shaping of our beliefs and
values. But if each person’s immanent guidance system
is unique and different—then we are back to the same dilemma:
the absence of any basis upon which to assert anything to another
person except with power. One person might profoundly believe
that rape and murder are wrong, but what if the next person doesn’t
feel this way? What right in this circumstance does one person
have to assert anything to another—if each person’s
immanent guidance is unique to them and has no necessary validity
with another?
Well, perhaps there is something immanent in
all people. But
if this thing is in all of us, then by definition it transcends
the individual—is not stored in any single person.[vii] Thus
this point of view does not clear up anything, but leads only to
questions. Where did this immanent thing come from? Where
is it stored? Is it exactly the same in all people? How did it
get to be the same in different people? Can it change over time?
Where are the changes stored? In which persons? Or does it change
simultaneously in all living people? If not, which person is the
primary reference point—which person or group’s view
is more valid than another’s at any given point in time?
And ultimately, if it is in more than one person, isn’t it
really in the transcendent domain?
What the immanent possibility comes down to
is this: since people inevitably disagree over beliefs and values,
is there something greater than one’s personal point of view to which we can
collectively refer concerning values, meanings, beliefs? If
this immanent thing does not have some foundation greater than
a single person’s point of view, then we are back to basing
our relations with others on pure power—one person’s
or one group’s assertion against another’s. But
if the imminent thing has a standing, a foundation we can jointly
base our values and beliefs upon, then we arrive once more at James’s “unseen
order.” Thus the attempt to base unifying beliefs and
values on the presence of “something immanent in all of us” leads
right back to the transcendent dimension.
Some might argue that there is a basis for
values, beliefs, or meaning in our cells, our genes, our DNA.
But if it is in our DNA, how did it get there? By what agency
did these values and beliefs arrive there? Was it just chance? If chance, is there any
reason we shouldn’t reject these genetic tendencies if we
want to? Maybe our new thought is better than the chance
genetic development. Is there any reason that we should make
an effort to live by them, if we have an urge not to do so? Is
there any reason we can use to assert that others should live by
them if they don’t want to? Since the answer to these questions
would seem to be no, such tendencies do not really serve as a basis
for guiding our lives, or our relations with others.
Perhaps these tendencies that seem to be values and beliefs simply
grew up in us to help us survive, are simply how we interpret the
drives in us that urge us to get the good things in life for ourselves.
If so, we are immediately thrust into a dog-eat-dog world of pure
power, and there are no values and beliefs we can commonly refer
to. In this world, values and beliefs are mere tricks we use to
persuade others to act in ways that will benefit us if we can get
them to go along.
Well, maybe there is a drive within us to further
our personal gene pool, or to further the interests of our tribe,
or our race, or our species—and this drive has given rise
to what we think of as beliefs and values.
What we have to recognize about this possibility
is that there is absolutely no proof that values, or beliefs,
or meaning are passed down through our DNA. Some people have speculated
along these lines. And this is a theoretical possibility. But
there is absolutely no evidence for this, let alone proof. All
the arguments I have seen along these lines start with the theological
(metaphysical?) assumption that since there is no other possible
source, these feelings in us must somehow have developed and be
stored in our genes.
But the flaw here is in starting with the assumption
that there is no other source for values, or beliefs, or meaning. To
start with this assumption is pure theology – and flawed
theology at that. For although this is one possibility, it
is not the only one. Another possibility, as many humans
have asserted throughout human history, is that values, meaning,
and beliefs come form something transcendent to us. Both are theological
(or metaphysical) views. But to assert one theological answer over
another because you started with the assumption that it is the
only possibility is of no real help—and poor theology to
boot.
Leaders Throughout Human History
Another way to catch a glimpse of the importance
of the unseen order to human experience is to look at those who
have been viewed as our leaders, the most accomplished among
us, the exemplars of human possibilities—real people, as well as those in story
and myth. When we look at the heroes and heroines of human
history, four main categories emerge; a) those who have added knowledge
and wisdom to human culture, b) those who have found effective
ways of creative expression, c) political and military leaders,
and d) religious and spiritual role models. But an interesting
thing emerges from looking more closely at this list—a very
high percentage of the people in the first three categories stated
directly, or were believed by the people around them, to derive
their wisdom, their authority, or their creativity from a source
greater than themselves.
a) Knowledge and Wisdom Figures
One of the main fields of knowledge is that
of science, and much of the scientific endeavor throughout human
history has been motivated by a desire to better understand the “unseen
order”:
thus Newton pursued his mystical alchemy in parallel with his physics,
and “discovered” the God-given laws that govern the
universe, Copernicus maintained the perfection of the celestial
realm while removing the earth form the center of its revolution,
and Galileo --------. And these metaphysical beliefs were
not just tangential beliefs held by “early” scientists.
There are many reasons to believe, as Albert Einstein declared: “I
assert that the cosmic religious experience is the strongest and
noblest driving force behind scientific research.”[viii] The
sheer number of scientists throughout the ages holding these transcendental
beliefs and motivations led scholar Karen Armstrong to conclude: ……..
And transcendental beliefs held among great
scientists have continued right down to the modern era, where,
as Ken Wilber points out concerning the physicists who created
relativity and quantum theory—the
crown jewel of 20h century science: “of the dozen or so pioneers
in these early revolutions—individuals such as Albert Einstein,
Werner Heisenberg, Erwin Schroedinger, Louis de Broglie, Max Planck,
Wolfgang Pauli, Sir Arthur Eddington—the vast majority of
them were idealists or transcendentalists of one variety or another.”[ix] In
this light, let us listen to the words of the person selected in
one poll as the greatest mind of the 20th century, Albert Einstein, “The
most beautiful and profound emotion we can experience is the sensation
of the mystical. It is the sower of all true science…..
To know that what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting
itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty which
our dull faculties can comprehend only in their most primitive
forms—this knowledge, this feeling, is at the center of true
religiousness.” [x]
Turning to the realm of philosophy, the continual
reference to an unseen order is even more striking than in science. In
fact, much of philosophy in every culture and every age has been
intertwined with theology and metaphysics—with the attempt
to understand the transcendent dimension and our relation to it. The
list of such philosophers would be endless. So let us look
instead at several of the most prominent philosophers known for
their focus on our worldly lives – this world and how we
might best live in it.
And on close inspection, even these more worldly
philosophers based their teachings on the assumption of an unseen
order: Socrates, for instance, spoke of the voice that guided
him, and of the realm of the Good, which, if we only knew it,
we would certainly follow, because it was the source of our true
happiness. Aristotle
was primarily concerned with understanding and categorizing the
everyday world, but he held that this everyday world had arisen
from a “First Cause” that was transcendent to the everyday,
material world. Kant, although arguing that we could not
directly know the transcendent dimension, based his morality on
the assumption that it did exist, and on the possibility that we
could come to know the “holy will” within ourselves.
Confucius, although especially concerned with the practical aspects
of human life, argued that there was a moral law, the will of heaven,
which was the only basis upon which humans could know how to live
their life in the world. Rene Descartes, one of the founders of
modern philosophy and science, held that our minds partook of the
spiritual dimension, and he proposed his ontological proof for
the existence of God. And Georg Friedrich Hegel, whose ideas were
one of the building blocks for the theories of Karl Marx, argued
for the existence of an Absolute Mind, which gave rise to the rationally
structured material universe. Again, many, many more examples could
be given.
b) Creative Expression
As with knowledge and wisdom, so also with
creativity. If
we look back through the history of human creativity, an incredible
number of the major figures recognized for their achievements believed
that their creative genius sprang from a source transcendent to
themselves. As discussed in his book Higher
Creativity, Willis
Harmon notes that Beethoven and Brahms “took pains to point
out that certain inspirations, more valued than others, seemed
to come from some place other than what they normally thought of
as their self.”[xi] George Eliot said “that in all
of what she considered her best writing, something that was ‘not
herself’ took possession of her, and that she felt her own
personality to be ‘merely the instrument through which this
spirit . . . was acting’."[xii] Richard Strauss
wrote, "While the ideas were flowing in upon me—the
entire musical, measure for measure—it seemed to me that
I was dictated to by two wholly different, Omnipotent Entities.
. . .I was definitely conscious of being aided by more than an
earthly Power…”[xiii]
From Johannes Brahms, "Straightaway the ideas flow
in upon me, directly from God, and not only do I see distinct themes
in my mind's eye, but they are clothed in the right forms, harmonies,
and orchestration. Measure by measure, the finished product
is revealed to me. . . "[xiv] Journalist Christine Cox reports
that the poet Shelley “spoke of his inspired moments as ‘visitations
of the divinity in man’."[xv] She goes on the
observe that “Philosophers, artists, the enlightened of all
times and places—from Plato to Ching Hao, Tagore to Beethoven—have
made similar claims: that true art is inspired by the divine.”[xvi]
This engagement of art with the transcendent
dimension is so strong that Joseph Campbell was led to conclude: “The way of art,
when followed ‘properly’ (in Joyce’s sense),
leads also to the mountaintop that is everywhere, beyond opposites,
of transcendental vision, where, as Blake discovered and declared,
the doors of perception are cleansed and every thing appears to
man as it is, infinite.”[xvii]
And once again, these currents come right down
to the present day. In novels, plays and movies that are widely read in
today’s world, the importance of transcendental themes and
ideas is very powerful. Great novelists such as Dostoyevsky,
Tolstoy and Melville are still taught in many universities, and
read by millions. Victor Hugo’s novel, Les
Miserables, with
its underlying theme of giving one’s life over to the unseen
meaning in which the world is held, has been turned into one of
the most popular plays of our time. And consider the great poets:
Emily Dickinson—whose writings are imbued with an assumption
of a transcendent dimension—is still very popular, and against
all assumptions one might make, the 12th century mystical poet,
Jelaluddin Rumi, is the best-selling poet in America at the start
of the 21st century. Even the ever-popular Walt Whitman,
who is more identified with a humanist perspective than a transcendental
one, could pen these lines:
I see something of God in each hour of
the twenty-four,
and each moment then,In the faces of men and women
I see God, and in my own face in the glass;
I find letters from
God dropped in the street,
and every one is signed by God's name
There is that in me.... I do not know what it
is.... but I know it is in me.
I do not know it.... it is without
name.... it is a word unsaid,
It is not in any dictionary or utterance
or symbol.
Something it swings on more than the earth I swing
on,
To it the creation is the friend whose embracing
awakes me.
Do you see O my brothers and sisters?
It is not
chaos or death.... It is form and union and plan...
....it
is eternal life.... it is happiness.
And in movies, just a few years ago the most
watched movies of all time were the Star
Wars movies, with their
invocation of “the
force be with you” —a reference to a transcendental
filed that became of byword for a generation of movie-goers. Now
we have Harry Potter in his world of many unseen forces, and the
overwhelming success, in novel as well as film, of to the spiritual
message embedded in The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R.Tolkien. These
currents are so strong that noted scholar of religions, Huston
Smith (who taught for many years at a center of technological development,
MIT) concluded simply that “art is spiritual technology.”
c) Political and Military Leaders
Moving to political and military leaders, for
thousands of years in almost every human culture, the ruler was
seen as either divine, or as a representative of the divine. Thus is Egypt, the
ruler was considered God on earth, in China the ruler held the
Mandate of Heaven, and in Europe there was the belief in the Divine
Right of Kings. This association of leadership with the transcendent
was common to many human cultures for thousands of years. And in
those cultures that did not see the ruler as divine, or as cultures
gradually broke away from this belief, most held that the “unseen
order” would and could intervene in human affairs. Thus
God was seen as speaking directly to Jewish leaders such as Moses,
and was believed to intervene on the peoples’ behalf against
their enemies (for instance at Jericho, and against the Egyptians). Or
the unseen order was believed to give the Jewish rulers and the
Jewish people guidance through the voice of the prophets – thus
the names of Elijah, and Isaiah, and Ezekiel, and Jeremiah echo
down the halls of history in Judeo-Christian lands.
The transcendent was equally present for the
people of ancient Greece. Ancient Greek leaders were not usually viewed as
divine themselves, but the Gods on Olympus were experienced as
frequently intervening in human affairs, helping those who made
their case for assistance, and subverting those whom the Gods wished
to punish or thwart. And here on earth, the Oracle of Delphi
was seen as a voice that spoke from a direct inspiration of the “unseen.”
In India, the story is told of Krishna becoming
the charioteer of the great warrior Arjuna, offering him advice
and guidance leading up to and during the great battle of the
Mahabharata. From
this story came one of the most sacred books in India, the Bhagavad
Gita. In ancient China, perhaps the most important and formative
book was the I Ching - a book of divination, used by rulers and
commoners alike to discover the right relationship to the transcendent
dimension. And of course in the world of Islam, Mohammed was seen
as the Prophet of God, bringing to the people the wisdom of the
Koran.
As the belief that human rulers were divine
slowly gave way to a more fallible view of worldly leadership,
the importance of the unseen order did not necessarily wane in
human culture. The
belief that there was a transcendent dimension which could affect
human affairs continued for most people everywhere. Only
the belief that human leaders were divine, or could speak infallibly
for the divine, came to be doubted in many cultures. But
in this new environment, many political leaders still based their
message on an appeal to an “unseen order.” Thus Joan
of Arc rallied the French with her divine vision. Thomas Jefferson
grounded the creation of America on the phrase “they are
endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights.” And
Abraham Lincoln led America through its most trying years with
such words as: “Our reliance is in the love of liberty which
God has planted in our bosoms.”[xviii] And “I have
desired that all my works and acts may be according to his will.”[xix]
And this grounding in the transcendent by many
world leaders continues right down to present time. In the twentieth
century, Mahatma Gandhi led the Indian subcontinent to independence
with an appeal to ancient transcendental concepts of his native
land, swaraj (freedom) and ahimsa (non-violence). Martin Luther King led the civil rights
movement in America with an appeal to the capacity in all of us
to act from a recognition of a higher good. And Nelson Mandela,
the young radical who spent many years in prison—and who
finally won political freedom for the majority in his native land,
uttered these words at his inauguration as President of South Africa: “We
were born to make manifest the glory of God within us. It is not
just in some of us: it's in everyone.”[xx]
Once again, many, many more examples could
be given. And
once again, it is important to note that nothing in this discussion
gives any guidance as to which, if any, of the people or ideas
mentioned above were truly guided by an unseen order. Or
which values have a greater validity than others. But it
does point out the incredible importance throughout human history
that reference to an unseen order has had in the political/ governmental/military
arena of human life.
d) Spiritual and Religious Role Models
Turning to spiritual and religious role
models, one would expect there to be a dramatic belief in and emphasis
on the unseen order. And this is certainly the case. It is
probably redundant to say that all (or almost all) spiritual and
religious figures throughout human history held the belief that
there is an unseen order, and that the most important thing in
life was to get in the right relationship to it. (One can find
individual cases where doubts replaced such a conviction, but the
number would be small, and these doubts, if publicly known, almost
always led to the loss of spiritual or religious leadership in
the community. This is completely separate from the changes
that often occurred in spiritual and religious leaders as to the
nature of the unseen order, or the best way to get into relationship
to it. Many religious and spiritual figures throughout human history
have changed their views on what the unseen was really like, or
the best way to relate to it. But almost none questioned
the existence of an unseen order.)
This being so, the thing that is important
to note is that in many cultures, religious and spiritual figures
were the role models par excellence, often serving as the best
image the society had to offer as to how people should live. Thus in Medieval Europe
the best and brightest often aspired to be monks or nuns, in Buddhist
countries the monks and nuns were held in the highest esteem, in
the world of Islam the imam or sheikh was revered and followed,
in ancient Israel the prophets were deeply respected, in ancient
China the seven immortals were the role models to be emulated,
and in India the sadhus were considered to be the most advanced
on life’s path.
In many lands, religious and spiritual leaders
were also the most important counselors to the rulers, as well
as to common folk. For instance, in indigenous cultures throughout
history, the shaman was seen as the most important and powerful
of figures, the one to be listened to above all others, and the
one to guide people in times of difficulty or crises. And the
most important role of the shaman? To provide the all-important
connection between the spirit world and the world of everyday
life, to attempt to keep the right relationship to “the numinous powers that can either
sustain or extinguish human life.”[xxi]
But this importance of religious and spiritual
figures as guides, as counselors, as role models did not come
to an end some time in the past. It is still very much with us all over the world
today. One thinks immediately of Billy Graham, Pope John Paul II,
Mother Teresa, the Dalai Lama (who sold more books in America in
2002 than any other non-fiction author), Bishop Desmond Tutu, Sai
Baba, Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, and ------ (Islam). And these
are only a handful of the living examples. (These examples, and
my examples throughout this work are necessarily slanted toward
the world I live in. These are the examples I know. A similar
survey in any other part of the world would find the same kind
of examples—only they would have different names.)
If one goes to any land, what figures are seen
as the best examples to emulate in this life? In Christian lands, stories and
books are full of images of Jesus, of the apostles, of saints and
martyrs through the ages, or those who struggled with finding the
right relationship to God in many different ways. In Buddhist
lands, one hears and reads over and over about the Buddha’s
life, and of the thousands of monks and nuns who have carried the
Buddhist tradition forward. In Jewish culture, it is the
prophets, as well as Jewish religious figures throughout history.
In India, it is the stories of Krishna, and Rama, and Hanuman,
and countless thousands of religious and spiritual figures through
the centuries who are looked upon as the best models for human
behavior. In the world of Islam it is Mohammed and Rumi and
the imams and sheikhs of history.
Then consider the books that people have bought
through the ages, and are buying today. The best-selling books
of all time are the Christian Bible, the Tao Te Ching, the Koran,
and the Bhagavad Gita – and they are selling more copies
today than they have ever sold. Probably the largest-selling
category of books sold in the world today is religious and spiritual
category. Or if we turn to the list of best-selling biographies
in any land or language, religious and spiritual figures are
perennially at the top of the list. And this would probably be
true in almost any place or any time in history one cared to
check.
In another vein, think of the teaching stories
that have molded and shaped the beliefs of young people in every
culture and every clime. How do values and beliefs become a part of each person’s
internal system? Through the stories they are told as they
grow up. Teaching stories, morality stories, and fairy tales have
been used to shape the values and mold the lives of human beings
since recorded history began. Think about the numerous parables
and stories in the Bible, or the epic stories of India, of the
American Indians, of Scandinavia—or any other culture you
might care to name. Think of the Sufi, Zen, and Jewish teaching
stories, or the plays of the Greeks and Romans. In every
land, teaching stories molded the values and beliefs of the culture. And
if you examine these stories, you discover that in almost every
case, these stories carry an assumption of an unseen order. And
often the protagonist is a religious or spiritual figure.
Once again, this focus of people throughout
history—right
down to the present—on spiritual and religious figures as
counselors, guides, and role models does not prove the existence
of an unseen order, nor does it give any guidance as to which if
any of these figures were “right.” But it dramatically
demonstrates the importance we humans have put on the examples
provided to us by those who believed there was an unseen order—those
who believed that finding the right relationship to the “unseen” was
of crucial importance.
[i] William James, The
Varieties of Religious Experience, Penguin
Books Edition (1982), p. 53
[ii] A chapter head in William James Varieties of Religious Experience
[iii] Keith Thompson – article in Noetic Sciences Review
- Spring 1997
[iv] Ibid
[v] Tao Te Ching, translated by Stephen Mitchell, number 25
[vi] Stephen Mitchell, The
Enlightened Heart, p.4
[vii] This is the realm that Swiss psychologist
Carl Jung named the “collective unconscious.”
[viii] on "cosmic religion," a worship
of he harmony and beauties of nature that became the common faith
of physicists. In Cosmic Religion (1931), 48-49
[ix] Ken Wilber, Eye of Spirit
[x] Albert Einstein (1879–1955), Einstein:
His Life and Times, ch. 12, sct. 5, Philipp Frank (1947).
[xi] Willis Harmon, Higher
Creativity, p. 23
[xii] Ibid, p.23-24
[xiii] Ibid p. 46
[xiv] Ibid p. 46
[xv] Article in The Quest Magazine, Spring 1992, by Christine
Cox, p. 66
[xvi] Ibid P. 66
[xvii] Joseph Campbell, The
Inner Reaches of Outer Space, p.126
[xviii] Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865),
U.S. president. speech at Edwardsville, Illinois, Sep. 11, 1858.
Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, vol. 3, p. 95, Rutgers University
Press (1953, 1990).
[xix] Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865), U.S.
president. letter to Eliza P. Gurney, Oct. 26, 1862. Collected
Works of Abraham Lincoln, vol. 5, p. 478, Rutgers University
Press (1953, 1990).
[xx] 1994 Presidential Inaugural Speech
[xxi] The Spell of the Sensuous
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