Truth can be seen on various levels. It is most satisfactory when it can be most directly proven; this is scientific proof, and it is constantly being expanded by new knowledge. But the truth that concerns us particularly as people is the validity of our belief system and above all our inner nature. It is obvious to me that the really important things of life cannot be proven in any way other than experience. When people try to bring religion and science together they nearly always distort the scientific view to suit themselves. The tangible cannot be easily connected to the intangible, yet it is by truth that has come to one on a very personal level that one in the end leads one's life.

What, for instance, is the truth about myself? On a personal level, I would have to admit remarkably little, although I am now an elderly man. Even my appearance, as I see in photographs, does not entirely match up to the face that confronts me day by day as I shave it. When I compare myself pictorially with what I was twenty years ago, the difference is even more marked. By this simple example one can see that although truth does not change, the subject of it is undergoing constant remodelling. But what concerns me particularly in relationship to happiness is our inner attitude. In the end, it matters little what you think about me externally, whether I am handsome or ugly, for instance, but what you feel about my character and therefore my integrity is quite a different matter. Most of us take life seriously, aim at least to be decent, law-abiding citizens, and if we are "religious" we would want to be perfect in the way that Jesus counselled his disciples. He said "There must be no limit to your goodness, as your Heavenly Father's goodness knows no bounds" (Matthew 5:48). In the Authorised Version of the Bible this is expressed more compellingly as, "Be ye perfect as your Father in Heaven is perfect".

This counsel on a purely practical level, the so-called counsel of perfection, in fact is, I have no doubt, beyond the capability of even the most sincere person. Furthermore, there is even a place for lying according to the circumstances. Behaviour cannot be reduced to simple rules. This surely must make the eyebrows rise, but if I were, for instance, to ask you for your opinion about something I had written and you really disliked it, common politeness should lead you to temper your criticism and even to damn it with faint praise, if you felt particularly concerned for my feelings. The same approach might apply to your comments about my appearance, accent or antecedents. It would be cruel if you told me what you actually thought about any of these things, because you might diminish me to the extent of my being completely crushed. If I had a tendency to depression, I might even contemplate suicide. The compassion that guides a softening down of unpleasant necessity is called tact or "sugaring the pill". One is wise to sugar the pill of criticism of another person's creative work.

Likewise, would it be such a terrible crime to steal a loaf of bread to feed a destitute individual, if you yourself had none available at that time? Of course, I would expect you to replace the money for the bread subsequently, as the Good Samaritan promised to do when the man who had fallen among thieves and been half killed was sent by him after emergency treatment to an inn (Luke l0:30-37). Therefore, even if one were to perform an action which was obviously deviant, the reason should be valid and the repayment prompt.

If we look critically at ourselves, how many illusions are we likely to find? If we are ordinary people, we will have little difficulty in detecting various weaknesses in our character and might even be rather light-hearted in our self-criticism. If, on the other hand, we aspired to holiness, we might see fewer defects and even become rather smug in our own assessment. We have considered this situation already in relation to the Pharisee and the tax-collector. I wonder why the tax-collector went home acquitted of his sins but not the self-righteous Pharisee (Luke 18:10-14). Like Job, but on a much cruder level, the Pharisee was full of pride; after all, his conduct and actions were irreproachable, but he was far too self-centred and showed little compassion for people who might have been "less advanced" than he considered himself. Indeed, our universal illusion is self-opinionation. Even those who have an inbuilt low self-esteem are by no means exempt from this grave fault; they worship the image that they would like to have, had circumstances been different. If one leads the spiritual life in earnest the first lesson is always to accept oneself gratefully and let that gratitude flow out to all those around one, irrespective of their merit. Indeed, if one has fulfilled this challenge, one is well on the way to the perfection that Jesus demanded. How can we really be as perfect as God? This is surely ridiculous, until we remember the momentous statement of 1 John 4:7-8, "Let us love one another, because the source of love is God. Everyone who loves is a child of God and knows God, but the unloving know nothing of God, for God is love."

We cannot love either our neighbour or God until we love ourselves, and this love does not come easily to the conscientious person. That person may try to live a more admirable life and eventually become like the Pharisee. We know only too well where that can lead. Only when one has accepted oneself as one truly is, warts and all, can one begin to accept other people on their terms also - no longer merely with condescending toleration but instead with increasing affection. A person's particular mannerisms become rather loveable, even if one knows that some of their statements are not to be taken seriously. This is part of the commerce of daily living. As one accepts various peculiar people, so one begins to realize how peculiar one is oneself, if not in their particular way nevertheless in an equally strange way, and one's eyes begin to lighten. This is the beginning of one of the great gifts that we all have, but only some really know how to use properly a sense of humour.

Some people seem to have an innate sense of humour and their character seems to be sanguine or cheerful. Others have a natural tendency to gloom, suspicion, anger or jealousy. Some are fanatics - and here religion has more than its share; they do not laugh because they know the answer beforehand, even if that answer is self-destructive. It is very hard for this type of person to empathize closely with any person who does not share their own type of belief. It is on this level that religion and politics can become a dire menace, and persecutions as well as the more secular dictatorships find their origins. Consider, for instance, the most notorious exemplar of this in our own time, Adolf Hitler. Can you imagine him laughing? The answer is "Yes, of course I can". But at what would he be laughing? He would be deriding another person's discomfiture on racial or political grounds, and would be overjoyed if that unfortunate individual were to be killed. Therefore it is possible to obtain enjoyment in being fanatic or grossly intolerant, say, about matters sexually aberrant. But this is not a sense of humour; it is simply an enjoyment derived through witnessing another person's discomfiture. The basis of true humour, that at which everyone can laugh, is the juxtaposition of incongruous images. These are out of place or absurd, and the great comedies of literature and music have been based upon the contrast between a character and his pretensions.

Fanatics like Hitler have little sense of humour; it is replaced by a cruel depiction of those whom they despise and reject, even to the point of hatred. One can imagine a fanatic smiling with delight when his "enemy" has been rejected or hurt, but there is no fun in his mirth. Humour can be cruel also as when one laughs spontaneously at a vain person's sudden discomfiture. But what I would call pure humour clears the mind, at least for a time, of any serious preoccupation; even if the joke is pure nonsense, it brings one back to sanity once more. The most fundamental and important type of humour consists in being able to view oneself dispassionately and laugh at one's own foibles. These are individual weaknesses of character on which one mistakenly prides oneself. How easy it is to say "I hate mean people or those who display racial prejudice", while concealing from one's own vision a weakness of character on which one unconsciously prides oneself. A person who really exhibited these standpoints would not need to proclaim them at all; they would simply act the part in everyday life so that no one had any illusions about their views.

A fine sense of humour lends balance to the personality, particularly if it is over-inflated or sadly dejected. One would not expect much of a sense of humour in those who are mentally ill. The paranoid individual would be dominated by a sense of persecution, whereas those of a cyclothymic temperament would veer between excesses of mania and depression. The maniac might appear to have a sense of humour, but they would be laughing at their own private joke which might be quite irrelevant to the event at hand and often decidedly cruel.

It follows, therefore, that a sense of humour is the means whereby illusions can be counteracted, and in due course they may be neutralized also. A bald statement of the truth, on the other hand, might merely stir up a person's illusions, and a vicious conflict might ensue. If only we did know the truth about ourselves, it would set us free as Jesus taught (John 8:32). In this particular chapter of John's Gospel it is proclaimed that the Son can alone free one to know the truth, therefore the consciousness of God is our only way to the ultimate truth about ourselves. Anything else is second-hand and questionable.

God, it seems, uses various ways to bring us to our senses and to truth. Job had to suffer absolute destitution before he learnt that he of himself was nothing apart from the Divine grace. In the case of lesser people who flatter themselves on their intellectual excellence, an awakening of their sense of humour may bring them down to earth, but this is unlikely to occur until they themselves have been brought low. Although many of the characters in the great comedies are obvious caricatures, they are also too near the truth about ourselves to be lightly dismissed. A person with an acute sense of humour delights in their own fallibility, indeed their own foibles, when they see them in a clear light. Such a person is capable of learning much about themselves and at the same time about other people and the world in general. The truth that is revered in John's Gospel is not merely scientific evidence, which is easy enough to demonstrate if one possesses the appropriate technique; it is the truth about life itself, which always concerns the individual primarily. When one is attuned to one's own being, one is automatically at peace with other people and can start to do one's work with a clear mind and a joyous heart. The evil of persistent illusions is that they obscure our real identity from our awareness. Whereas a delusion is a false impression or opinion, an illusion deceives the truth of a matter without contradicting it outright. The person who prides themself on racial tolerance, for instance, might genuinely aspire to this quality, but in fact their general attitude to "foreign" people denies it time and time again.

From all this, it is apparent that, while objective scientific proof is easily within the compass of any suitably trained individual, the inner truth of our own personality comes only in slow stages to us. It is seldom apparent in children or even young adolescents; the inevitable reverses of life consequent on relationships make it more apparent to all of us, so that when we attain full adult stature we should have at least some awareness of our weaker characteristics. These are not to be disparaged, because they are our means of growth; when they are acknowledged quite frankly and acted upon, they may at the beginning tend to lead us astray, but experience ought to control them and ultimately marry them with our full character. Thus if I disclaim a display of racism while harbouring it deep in my heart, the way forward is to accept it as an integral part of my character, while acknowledging its inadequacy. Then it will in the course of time become less obtrusive. This really means that one should love oneself in one's entirety and not in any way ignore those facets of one's character which one finds disagreeable. If one can achieve this end, one is well on the way to personal integrity, and a mature person will emerge from the experience. Therefore truth does not flinch from any experience or attitude, no matter how unpleasant or even criminal it may be. But if a person accepts it generously as part of his or her own character, it is gradually transfigured into something quite beautiful. I would much rather have unpleasant attitudes of this type and learn to cope generously with them, than be perfect as the Pharisee in the parable so obviously considered himself, to say nothing of poor old Job.

The end of our growth as individuals is to have fully rounded personalities, not so much good as genuine. This is called self-actualization. Religion has far too many "good" people associated with it, and they tend above all else to alienate others on the path. Indeed, if one is genuinely on the path, one's deficiencies are unconsciously incorporated into one's character and one grows in empathy with all types of people. Such unpleasant tendencies as sexism, racism and class prejudice simply fall away as one realizes, as the Roman writer Terence (c. 190-159 BC) wrote: "I am a man, I count nothing human indifferent to me" (Heauton Timorumenos 1.1.25). I find this particularly interesting because Terence would be classed as a pagan, yet nothing in the scriptures advances that view or denies it; it really is another form of the second commandment stated by Jesus, "You must love your neighbour as yourself" (Leviticus 19:18; Matthew l9:l9). It might be objected that the difficulty about commandments like those in the Sermon on the Mount is not so much their truth but their impracticability, if one reads them in one fell swoop. But I believe that if such teachings are inculcated with love into the minds of the young at a very early age they stick, and then form the basis of future actions. In other words, teaching should be actualized immediately.

It seems to me that truth on a moral level is universal in scope; the various world religions set their finest practices in daily living and do not merely preach it on suitable occasions. If this were the rule generally, there would be far fewer illusions in the minds of most people. Most illusions have a grandiose character, but some might have a diminishing effect. If we stopped thinking so much about ourselves, either positively or negatively, and instead proceeded steadily with the work at hand we would know the truth in the present moment. This is indeed the truth that sets one free from all illusions and other temptations also. It is on this level that religious education is in my opinion crucially important in the development of the character of young people. In connection with our general consideration of happiness, we will never know this most desirable state until we know ourselves as we really are and can accept that knowledge also. Only then do the various desires that have already been dealt with in previous chapters find their correct place in our lives. They cease to dominate, but are merely spurred on to greater satisfaction in the future.

This consideration of illusion must extend further than one's own personality; it should also include those whom we love, those with whom we work day by day, and also the idols that captivate audiences by the means of mass communication. One has only to see the faces of some of these people on television, for instance, to see the insecurity that lies behind the confident words that they utter. One is unlikely to be free of the illusion of seeing other people as particularly great until one knows oneself better. We after all have to be the yardstick by which other mortals are measured. I myself find that those who criticize on a large scale and those who exult in their own piety are particularly insecure people. It is so easy to cloak one's own deficiencies under an issue of words full of sincerity but in the end meaning very little. "You will recognize them by their fruit", said Jesus (Matthew 7:20). When the fruit is sound not only is the tree flourishing, but also those who partake of it are nourished. This is the test whereby truth can be distinguished from illusion; it simply does not fill one with joy but rather leaves one peculiarly empty. I suppose at an early period of our life our illusions may be stepping stones towards truth, but in due course it is right that they be left behind as we move ever onward to the true peak of truth. When we have attained this we can really understand and obey the scriptures, and move some distance towards attaining their precepts also.

Our attitude is the way in which we confront the various circumstances of our life day by day; it is our settled way of behaviour as indicating our opinion. There is both the specific attitude related to a particular event and also a more general attitude that typifies our response to the various ingredients of life itself. Our attitude of mind is indeed our settled mode of thinking. Children's attitudes are determined essentially by the nature of the circumstances surrounding them; for instance, there is the time when events satisfy the child and then they behave well, bringing with them warm affection. On the other hand, a deleterious turn of events soon changes this glowing attitude to life, and the child will rapidly become obstinate and uncooperative. If the child is not allowed to express themself freely, they will learn to conceal their true feelings, and their motive will become distorted and their character warped and unsociable. On the other hand, too much latitude allows gross distortions of acceptable attitudes to manifest themselves. The old adage, "Spare the rod and spoil the child", now distinctly unpopular to put it mildly, has ageless wisdom. It seems that one needs to have attained considerable maturity from experience before one is truly civilized; this is an attitude of deep concern for individuals apart from oneself and ultimately society in general.

The cult of the individual and personal greed which typified the 1980's has brought its reward in society, and I therefore would welcome an attitude of far greater individual and social responsibility. The millennium is upon us, and it would be encouraging if this were heralded not so much by the reappearance of the Messiah as by a radical change in heart and mind of all people so that they could assume adult responsibility with genuine rejoicing. This could be the new messianism.

One's character is formed as one approaches adult life - it may be straight and honest or crooked and devious. More likely, there will be a mixture of these extremes, tailored to suit the situation. It seems to me that character traits are both inherent and acquired. By this I mean that we bring with us certain attitudes that are as much part of our identity as any of our bodily features, but unlike these physical elements our character is constantly being moulded and reshaped during childhood and to a lesser extent in adolescence also.

I have known several instances of two siblings of the same sex with polar opposite characters; one has been cheerful and outgoing whereas the other remained taciturn and suspicious. The parents of this type of family have been remarkably kind, considerate people whom I have liked immensely, and I have always wondered how it is that two children from the same environment should be so totally different. I have not in any way disliked either child, but cannot help seeing how assiduously the unfriendly one builds up a mounting wall of isolation around himself or herself. If they marry, a separation is almost inevitable, and the partner is always blamed for the break-up. I feel on balance that we are individuals from the moment of our conception, and subsequent influences work on a prior foundation. What therefore is one to do if one is lumbered with a negative type of personality? If one is aware of the situation, one has to learn to accept it unflinchingly and do all one can to give of oneself to other people, no matter how low one's own self-esteem may be. To a limited extent I have experienced this unfortunate tendency, but having mastered it through a combination of Divine grace, a strong power of will and complete honesty, I have made something of my life. It has never been easy, but, thank God, I have something to show for it in terms of productivity and the help it is claimed that I have given to others in the fields of counselling and healing. If one can accept the situation with the same truth as one could if afflicted by a congenital defect of sight, hearing or posture, one can aim at the possible, and then to one's amazement impossible things may start to happen. Now I no longer feel inferior to anybody, realizing that we all have our own cross to bear, and those who are brave enough to confront it early on have the best opportunity of making something really valuable of their lives. What I am saying is in effect that happiness of a durable type is achieved after braving a dark journey bordering sometimes almost on despair. Yet, pressing onwards with an almost supernatural strength based on hope, one is, in the process, learning something of life's inner secret.

Integrity is defined as wholeness or soundness when applied to an article, but in terms of personality it depicts uprightness and honesty. It demands complete acknowledgement of who and what one is, and if one is earnest in one's toil, one will see looming distantly in front of one's inner gaze a host of unfavourable qualities that reveal themselves as unpleasant attitudes. I always remember Polonius's last precept to his departing son Laertes,

This above all, - to thy own self be true;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou can'st not then be false to any man.
          (William Shakespeare, Hamlet, I.3.80)

Early Christian theology defined the Seven Deadly Sins as pride, envy, anger, sloth, avarice, gluttony and lust. These are always our stumbling blocks in any generation, though at any one time one or more of them may predominate. At the moment I would place pride, avarice and lust before the other four. There are, of course, other serious (I would call them deadly myself) sins as well, but they can be subsumed in the cardinal seven. With pride, for instance, there is also vainglory, haughtiness and a tendency to look down on "inferior" people (racism comes in here). Envy brings with it dishonesty, an appetite for power and hatred, while anger can easily lead to dishonesty, persecution and murder. One needs to add a caveat that there is also righteous indignation which can sometimes ignite and explode into frank anger. Jesus himself showed this when he went into the Temple and drove out all who were buying and selling in the sacred precincts. He upset the tables of the money-changers and the seats of the dealers in pigeons, and said to them, "Scripture says, "My house shall be called a house of prayer"; but you are making it a bandits' den" (Matthew 21:1 2-13). The Old Testament references to Jesus' words are to be found in Isaiah 56:7 and particularly Jeremiah 7:11.

Avarice is a greed of the mind and it is the precursor of all improper desires, especially regarding wealth and power. Gluttony brings with it all manner of physical ailments and a more dangerous type of yearning for material benefits. Lust is clearly lascivious passion with an animal desire for sexual indulgence, but the really interesting sin is sloth.

On a very superficial level sloth could simply be regarded as habitual indolence, and the laziness could be extended to include the toleration of unacceptable social, moral or political attitudes, but the early Christian writers aligned sloth also to melancholy or despair. This combination of sloth (or torpor) and despair is classically called "accidie". Here I take issue, because I cannot regard melancholy or despair as sinful as much as symptoms of a severe mental illness known as depression. It is interesting that since my return from the "portals of death" which happened in June and July l997, I have had recurrent episodes of mild depression lasting up to three or four weeks. The last of these occurred during my very recent three weeks' holiday in Barbados at the end of February and beginning of March l998. I now realize that I have always had a depressive tendency which has usually been subtly disguised by my intense capacity for work on an intellectual plane, and therefore I could not be accused of harbouring sloth; but now that I am doing less work in my slow process of recovery (which, thank God, is progressing far better than I dared hope), I have had much more time for inner reflection. Many painful memories of my earlier life are tending to dominate my reflections, and when these emerge they inevitably evoke a mood of depression, fortunately not severe enough to necessitate medication. I have come to know, and here I speak hesitantly realizing that many readers will regard this as sheer self-opinionation, that this is an aspect of the life after death. Indeed, I now know personally, but obviously only subjectively, that what I saw in that terrifying experience is what actually happens to every soul when they die, and the innumerable souls who appeared to be in the Stygian darkness were no delusion but the absolute truth. I now know inwardly that this is hell, which can be described as complete psychical chaos.

However, my view of heaven is less rosy than that described by the theistic religions of the West. It is obviously not a spatial or temporal entity since the soul is no longer incarnate. Heaven is not so much an atmosphere of eternal felicity as one in which the souls who have made a success of earthly life in terms of virtue and hard work mix freely with the great majority of deceased humanity. Their heavenly activity is one of service, inspired by the love of God, in order to bring knowledge and guidance to the great mass of souls in isolated darkness, so that they too may become less isolated and start to coalesce in harmony. In this way I believe they will eventually unite into a mighty host which will be so spiritually educated as to enter as equals and brothers with the "elect", who are those who have lived decent, productive lives while incarnate. This is the meaning of heaven, where there is complete unity.

There are two further comments that have to be made; the souls of those who have been frankly evil will accept the love of the enlightened ones very gradually, which implies that the heavenly state will be completely timeless. Here we are obviously dealing with a mystery, because during earthly life our activities are completely limited by time and space. It therefore follows that there could be a possibility of further incarnate life of some type after death. The great religions in the East accept reincarnation as an obvious fact, whereas the Western group are dogmatically opposed to the very concept. I feel it is wiser to hold fire and let events show us the way forward. Past-life regression claims do not convince me personally; but I must sympathize with those who feel that on occasion a deep, innate, otherwise completely inexplicable dread might be due to a forgotten past experience of another age which may or may not be hereditary.

It sometimes happens that a criminal may have an elementary sense of integrity: as the saying goes, "There is honour among thieves". So much human cruelty has been cunningly concealed beneath the mask of religion. On a lesser plane than evil intent is the virtue of the self-righteous person that serves to occlude their deep-seated distaste for someone of a different colour or race. Racism is surely a deadly sin, and this general attitude of hypocrisy is the converse of integrity. It needs to be confronted and eradicated before one can be within even striking distance of the experience of true happiness. I would have no difficulty in contending that it is preferable to be bad and honest with oneself than good while living an inner lie. On the surface this is, to say the least, highly debatable, until one remembers that the bad person at least knows where they stand, and could, when the full measure of the sinfulness hits them, repent (like the tax-collector in the parable) and seek God's forgiveness. The hypocrite, on the other hand, would remain safely ensconced within the walls of their smug assurance, until some terrible disaster entirely smashed their false world. This would, as likely as not, be the sudden awareness of imminent death, when the conscience is laid completely bare and every memory, together with its moral component, has to be directly confronted.

This, I believe, is basically the judgement that awaits us all when we die; we being ourselves the judge, inasmuch as the living God is immanent in every soul - which includes all living things. We humans differ from even our more advanced mammalian relatives in possessing a mind that can register each moment in time, judging the significance of each passing event. This capacity for judgement brings with it enormous responsibility for the welfare of all that builds up human society. When this way of life dominates one's thoughts and inspires one's emotions, one's integrity is as a shining light. Though the person should themself be unaware of it, they are perfect transmitters of the grace of God. To be like one of the servants of the Most High is the full manifestation of spirituality as well as its crowning reward; it will persist, no matter how sordid the circumstances around the person may be. Indeed, one's very presence illuminates the environment. The number of people who have attained this degree of sanctity is, in my experience, not large. But I will recount the life of someone seven years my senior who is both a long-standing friend and a true illustration of integrity.

She comes of Viennese aristocratic stock, and, as one would expect, of Catholic upbringing. But she made the fateful decision to marry an eminent Jewish surgeon. With the advent of the Anschluss the Nazis saw to it that both of them were sent to a nearby concentration camp called Mauthausen. He was promptly murdered, but her life was spared after she had been severely beaten. The injuries that this torture produced have prevented her kneeling down even today six decades later. She had one child, a daughter, before this terrible event, and both of them managed to escape to England in 1941 at the very peak of the Second World War. After some years she married an Asian diplomat and became deeply acquainted with and sympathetic towards Buddhism. She found that through the teaching of the Enlightened One a deeper understanding of Christianity came to her. In due course her second husband also died, and her daughter, by this time an adult, moved to America. My friend was then left on her own.

She happened to attend a lecture which I was delivering, and soon a mutual contact of like souls developed. She found that my manner of delivery as well as the content of its message accorded almost identically with that of her second husband. We met 28 years ago, and our friendship has deepened into one of the few really gratifying experiences of my life.

Her integrity has been made clear to me by her accepting the various vicissitudes of her life, not merely graciously but by positively growing through them. They have not changed her so much as deepened her innate spirituality in the process of imbibing the wisdom and tradition of two major religions apart from Christianity as well as confronting her with treasurable aspects of Islam and Hinduism. She is a friend of numerous younger people of varying shades of belief and has the capacity of drawing out the best aspects of that belief. Her attitude towards religion is universalistic, and in the words of Terence, no human being is alien to her.

On the other hand, she has little sympathy towards the permissive society, while being innately hostile to any form of personal discrimination. This has obviously grown through her own experience as a victim of Hitlerism, but I suspect that it has always been in her.

My last thought concerns fate and destiny. Being personal once more and I hope forgivably so, for a book of this type loses much of its message if one excludes personal experience from its pages, I have no doubt that destiny formed my life before I was born. Jeremiah was told "Before I formed you in the womb I chose you, and before you were born I consecrated you, I appointed you a prophet to the nations" (Jeremiah 1:5). In my case I knew even as a small boy that I would never marry, and my whole outlook as a child and adolescent was that of a mature adult; in Chapter 7 I spoke about speaking to God when I was a small child. In a peculiar way I have never really been young at all; only now as a man of 70 have I had the first proper holiday in 25 years, albeit for only three weeks, in a life full of work, mostly for other people - and I write this with neither pride nor regret but as a matter of fact.

I did not choose Christianity, because my spirituality is essentially universalistic - this is what brought my friend and me so closely together and so rapidly too. But it was decreed that I should embrace Christianity and I followed in complete obedience, despite the fact that neither Christian history nor the Christians I knew personally were especially inspiring. Indeed, if one meditates dispassionately on two millennia of Christian history, the good and the bad elements are almost equivalent in power, yet I did what was required of me, and I do not regret my obedience either. The teachings of Jesus are beyond compare. The only problem, as with numerous other spiritual teachings, is their impracticability for common humanity. If only we could follow the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) the world would be as the heaven described in theistic religion. But how many millennia will have to pass before this wonderful state materializes? Nevertheless I, as a mere nobody, was called on to practise preaching, writing, deliverance work (exorcism) and counselling as a Christian minister.

Now at the end of my career I can see exactly why it had to be; I was given a perfect platform for enunciating eternal truths and to a very limited extent, even living them. This ought to apply in their own particular way to every minister whether Christian or belonging to some other great faith. It is on people like me and them that the ultimate survival of humanity depends, but the temptation towards self-aggrandizement and power can be insurmountable unless, like me, one has an innate sense of low esteem. Alfred Adler might describe this as an inferiority complex; it can certainly be crippling if not directly confronted, but it is also essential if one is to do God's work properly. The really great world teachers, especially Gautama and Jesus, have shown this humility perfectly and the same would broadly apply to Lao Tzu, Confucius and Zoroaster.

So, therefore, my Christian ministry was not an attempt at escaping from Jewish stigmatization, remembering Shylock's well-merited rebuke "For suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe" (The Merchant of Venice, I.3.108), since I did not change my ultra-Jewish surname, Israel, into something more "Aryan" (as my parents advised me to do before I came to England). Rather, I fulfilled a destiny which was pre-arranged, regarding myself as neither better nor worse than other people. I do not see myself as a convert; indeed, the very concept of enforced conversion, even on an emotional level, revolts me - this may spring from the memory of a previous persecution in a past life, for all I know.

This brings me to a final thought about destiny and fate. Destiny is a power that appears to foreordain a person's life. I have previously quoted Freud's statement that anatomy is destiny, and this would certainly be true in my case because I was born with very flat feet; these were the basis of my inadequacy in playing games and hence were a cause of my unpopularity in my youth. To this, of course, was added the prevalent anti-Semitism of that period in South Africa. But all was not lost, because the isolation consequent on this and also my being an only child forced me to develop my intellect. St Paul puts it so beautifully when he writes "As we know, all things work together for good for those who love God" (Romans 8:28). Were it not for my unhappiness I could not have fulfilled my destiny, and indeed this was part of my destiny.

I believe that we all have a destiny, though few of us are even aware of it and certainly do nothing to actualize it. Most people's thoughts are centred solely on material objectives like gaining money or achieving power and personal success. Even these are acceptable motives if used for a noble purpose, but usually they are merely items of personal status. Fate, on the other hand, is a power that decides the final outcome of an event such as a person's life and death. We are bound to live our lives within a compass of personal destiny and appointed fate. What is prepared after our death we will know at the decreed time.

Though I am sympathetic to the concepts of destiny and fate, I have to add a caveat; on their own they lack a moral component. For instance, if I were tempted to steal and yielded accordingly, the subsequent punishment would be part of my destiny. If, on the other hand, I was able to resist that temptation that would likewise have been an aspect of my destiny. Free will to any significant extent would therefore be annulled by the Higher Power that had already decreed not only my character but also the way in which I responded to the difficulties that my personality had precipitated. I believe that God has, as it were, given us the tools pertinent to our particular personality, but how we use them is very much our own choice. Therefore, destiny has a strongly foreordained aspect, but how it develops and grows depends on our individual response to the challenges that life in its fullness presents to us.

Shakespeare puts it thus in the mouth of Brutus in Julius Caesar, (IV.3.216-19):

There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

Enlightenment occurs when one's consciousness is suddenly illuminated by the Divine light and one understands something that was previously obscure. It was seen literally in the case of the man born blind to whom Jesus restored the gift of sight. The Pharisees, however, were furious because of Jesus' unorthodox religious practice (and also, of course, from intense jealousy) and were out to prove that this could not have been so, either that he was not the same man, or else he was the subject of gross deception. The Pharisees insisted that a sinner like Jesus could not possibly have worked a miracle of any type. As the controversy raged the blind man's parents were summoned, and when they had been questioned, they replied,

"We know that he is our son, and that he was born blind. But how it is that he can now see, or who opened his eyes, we do not know. Ask him; he is of age; let him speak for himself." His parents gave this answer because they were afraid of the Jews; the Jewish authorities had already agreed that anyone who acknowledged Jesus as the Messiah should be banned from the synagogue; that is why his parents said, "He is of age; ask him." So for the second time they summoned the man who had been blind and said, "Speak the truth before God. We know that this man is a sinner." "Whether or not he is a sinner, I do not know" the man replied. "All I know is this: I was blind and now I can see."
                 (John 9:18-25)

It is interesting that we often use the verb "see" in the context of understanding as well as its usual visual application. The Buddha (which means the Enlightened One) had one of the most celebrated experiences of enlightenment. He was surely born ready to receive enlightenment, but his illumination occurred only when he was a young man. Being the son of a king, he was protected from all knowledge of the dark side of life until he ventured forth beyond the confines of his family's domain, and came face to face with a person decrepit with age, one who was very ill, and finally one who had just died. So great an impression did these three inevitable components of life make upon him that he left his kingdom with his wife and small son. He sought instead to know the truth, visiting various teachers, all wise men in the Hindu tradition, and from them he heard much traditional wisdom. But he still was floundering. One day, whilst sitting under a tree, his mind was suddenly illuminated with Divine reality. He realized that all life is suffering, and the way to conquer suffering is by eliminating all personal desire. The culmination is what is known as the Noble Eightfold Path of Buddhism: Right Understanding, Right Thought, Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, Right Concentration. He tried various austerities, all to no avail, so he realized the ideal of the Middle Way to attaining the Noble Eightfold Path.

In the Christian tradition the great example of enlightenment is St Paul's (Saul of Tarsus) conversion to Christianity; in Acts 8:1 Saul was among those who approved of the protomartyr Stephen's execution, and in Acts 8:3 he is reported as harrying the Church, entering house after house, seizing men and women and sending them to prison. In Acts 9 Saul, still breathing murderous threats against the Lord's disciples, went to the high priest and applied for letters to the synagogues at Damascus authorizing him to arrest any followers of the new way whom he found, men or women, and bring them to Jerusalem. While he was still on the road and nearing Damascus, suddenly a light from the sky flashed all around him.

He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying, "Saul, Saul, Why are you persecuting me?" "Tell, me Lord," he said, "who you are." The voice answered, "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you have to do." Meanwhile the men who were travelling with him stood speechless; they heard the voice but could see no one. Saul got up from the ground, but when he opened his eyes he could not see; they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. He was blind for three days, and took no food or drink.
                 (Acts 9:1-

It was another disciple named Ananias who, again under Divine instruction, went to Saul and laid his hands on him after which it was as if scales had fallen from his eyes and he regained his sight. He got up and was baptized, and when he had eaten his strength returned (Acts 9:l0-19). The people in Damascus were amazed that someone who was so virulently against the faith had changed into its great champion, and soon it became imperative that Saul should leave Damascus and return to Jerusalem. The apostles, needless to say, were distrustful, considering Saul's previous antipathy to the new faith, and it was only through Barnabas, a Cypriot Levite, who had sold an estate which he owned and given the money to the apostles (Acts 4:36-37), that Paul was accepted by the eleven. This was the beginning of his amazing missionary work; indeed, without St Paul it is very doubtful whether the faith that was to be called Christianity would have ever survived at all.

I wonder why the eleven surviving apostles were not chosen by God for extensive missionary work. The answer lies quite obviously in Paul's great intelligence, the power of his endeavour and his great courage. I could not, however, call him a natural mystic because of his intense hatred against the disciples before his own conversion; a natural mystic has an innate love which would simply be incompatible with the fury of murderous intent that Saul showed before his conversion. But with his conversion a latent mystical tendency became increasingly obvious as is seen in many of his magnificent letters. In other words, when he came close to God he became increasingly aware of the Divine nature presiding in his own soul. Something of the fanatic remained in him, and this is rather a pity when one considers, for instance, the anti-Jewish outbursts in Romans 9-11. But then he frequently softens, and sees the favoured Jews who have become Christians as the "remnant" mentioned on more than one occasion in the pages of the Old Testament.

Enlightenment can also occur on a secular occasion when a person suddenly sees the truth. Archimedes (287-212 BC) provides a celebrated example. He had a great scientific mind among the ancient Greeks, and was on one occasion presented with a royal crown for his assessment; was it made of gold or simply a counterfeit? He was not allowed to tamper with it. Suddenly, when in his bath, the answer came to him in a flash. The amount of water displaced by the crown would be equal to its weight - if it were composed of an inferior metal its weight would be similar to that of an object of similar appearance made of an alloy of cheaper metals. He was so excited with this enlightenment that he ran down the street shouting "Eureka!", which means "I have found".

Each advance in human understanding has come through the Spirit of God illuminating the mind of a predestined person. This may be a scientific discovery in the fields of technology or medicine, a creative delight in the realm of the arts, or a sudden thrust that initiates a fresh endeavour to philanthropic action amongst the many marginalized members of the world community. At present these include vast populations of fugitives who have been expelled from their homes by evil regimes and had the good fortune not to be killed. Other groups who need constant assistance are the blind, the deaf, the impoverished aged, abused children and those with chronic mental disease. The numerous charities that exist to meet the needs of these people (and also ill-treated animals) had their beginnings in the minds of enlightened individuals, whose imagination has extended far beyond their personal comfort to embrace all humanity, indeed, all life in our great ecosystem.

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty", - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
        (John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn)

Beauty transcends the rational faculty whereby truth is assessed in terms of a collection of verifiable facts. When beauty enlightens the eye, the ear or the mind itself, it carries us to the frontiers of transcendental awareness where the Divine presence is known.

This knowledge is far beyond mere intelligence; it is the unitive knowledge described in the Bible when a chosen husband and wife come together and a child of promise is conceived - a good example is the aged couple Abraham and Sarah begetting Isaac.

The great artists carry their fellows to the knowledge of God by the glory of their beautiful creation. Rembrandt, for example, carries us to the Divine as he depicts the human form. Mozart opens up an eternity of beauty in which musical form is illuminated by the tragicomedy of everyday human life. The greatest of all, in my opinion, is Shakespeare, whose plays and sonnets leave no aspect of human nature unexplored. When we fail most dismally in our endeavours we are closest to the ultimate truth which is God.

Let us return once again to the Ode on a Grecian Urn:

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone.