THE PROOF OF SPIRITUAL advancement lies in the altered character of the aspirant. His personality radiates a light-indeed from the uncreated light of God-that illuminates the world around him. Others feel the glow of his presence, not of a powerful dominating person, but as a harbinger of warmth, hope, caring, and faith. No one on the path realises that he is an agent of healing, that his silent presence brings hope and solace to those around him, that his life is a blessing to many. He is far too aware of his shortcomings even to dream that he might be a comfort and support to others. These shortcomings are not the conventional "sins"of popular morality, which in any case has little bearing on our encounter with God. They are the awareness of one's lack of concern at the crucial moment in any relationship. In other words, the truly aspiring person realises continually how much he is lacking in love. Every aspect of the ascent of the personality to God touches this ability to love. The poverty of spirit that is a prerequisite of having the kingdom of heaven is a complete lack of concern for oneself as a separate person, but caring only that one may give oneself adequately (and wisely) for another's healing. It is not an obsessional self-analysis, concerned only with one's own shortcomings and the way of repentance, but rather an ever-present awareness that whatever one does in love for another is always inadequate. It is this humility about the effectiveness of our own efforts that makes us eternally aware of the need for, and the presence of divine grace. There is an innate humility, an inspired simplicity (which has nothing to do with an unworldly naivety) of the spiritual person that draws others towards him in trust. He speaks not of himself but of the Holy Spirit that infuses him. And he quite naturally assumes the role of spiritual director. He is not perfect in inspiration. No man can aspire to absolute spiritual knowledge, and indeed the real master of the spiritual life grows in the experience of relationships with the various people who come to him for guidance. Thus there is no sitting on an exalted throne far above the milling masses. Each one, and especially the more dedicated of us, learns by humble service. In the spiritual community the one who is master takes the lowest place. And this applies in life too.
It is the rule that those imbued with great temporal power and wealth are seldom endowed with remarkable spiritual insight. On the other hand, an unnoticed servant may be a spiritual genius. There are mysteries in the destiny of the human personality that are not to be revealed in one brief lifetime on earth.
The fruits of spirituality have been so well enumerated by St.Paul that I can only repeat them; love, joy, peace, long suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance. It is by these that the calibre of a spiritual man is gauged. I would myself add a tenth; a sense of humour, which is really an extension of the moderation, or balance, that is the secret of temperance. Of all the fruits of divine understanding, a sense of humour is the most mystical, for it sees both the inevitability of contradictory lines of approach to truth, and their resolution, not by conflict or intellectual debate, but in the coincidence of opposites that is at once both ridiculous and sublime. A mystical sense of humour, of which the earthly type is a pale reflection inasmuch as it is personal and restricted, sees that the truth of God is attained by a complete sacrifice of all we hold dear, so that we may know it fully when we no longer possess it in isolation, but are one with it in relationship to all creation. In the Zen tradition a nonsensical riddle is solved by this divine humour that irrupts as a changed awareness into the fixed personality of the disciple.
The antithesis of balance is intensity of purpose. This is so much part of the conventional religious approach that it seems sacrilege to deflate it. In fact, a terrible intensity is not spiritual in direction but personal. The ardent missionary intent on saving the world according to a dogmatic theological scheme is arrogant and humourless. He has so little real faith in God's omnipotence that he believes he has to act as God's deputy. In other words he assumes the divine role and becomes a spiritual dictator, quite unlike God, Who in the person of the Holy Spirit leads the individual through integration to liberty.
The same criticism applies to those who are intense in their dedication to social justice, animal welfare, sexual morality, and many other causes that deserve our full support. For intensity of purpose overrides a love of people, and such a missionary of whatever cause soon becomes an obsessional crank. At this point he betrays the very same cause to which he has dedicated himself, and his fellow men begin to associate the cause with crankiness and imbalance. All too often the essence of truth is discarded with the unpleasant trimmings that surround it. The real error of intensity of purpose lies in an uncertainty about God's being. If we really knew Him we would rest in Him, and He would inspire us to that lightness of action and harmony of response that would effectively achieve the aims that I have mentioned.
The spiritual man changes the world by his spontaneous example, not by impassioned denunciations. He sees the positive side of all situations, no matter how unpleasant they may be, and uses this insight to effect a reconciliation and a change. Reconciliation is not the same as compromise. This is a makeshift agreement without a true resolution of difficulties, and is usually collapses once more into searing conflict. Reconciliation is the construction of a synthesis from conflicting principles, seeing the justice in both sides of the question, and using this insight in resolving the problem. Such reconciliation requires immense love of people and a long suffering patience that has the inevitable result of being misunderstood by all parties. They can see the agent of reconciliation only as a fence-sitter until their own spiritual vision has been widened by his love. But reconciliation requires a full realisation and admission of sin as well, sin from which no person is exempt, though one is often more guilty than the other. Until there is genuine repentance there can be no reconciliation. This repentance is an opening of oneself to the unconditional love of God in full acknowledgement of past actions. Christ showed the mechanism of this atonement while on earth, and the spiritual man demonstrates its effectiveness by his unconditional love for all the parties in a dispute.
The gifts of the Spirit, enumerated by St.Paul in 1 Corinthians 12, are more exciting than the fruits of the Spirit which he commends in Galatians 5;22. These latter are usually taken for granted-as if they were easily acquired - and it is the gifted (charismatic) person who is exalted and followed. Of course, the gifts of the Spirit should be a by-product of the spiritual life, and an inevitable outpouring from those who show the fruits of the Spirit. But it is possible to manifest some of the charismatic gifts in the absence of spiritual qualities. This is why the spiritual master is identified not by his unusual powers but by his obvious goodness and love. The power flows as a manifestation of this goodness.
It must be repeated that unspiritual people can possess great psychic gifts. Thus not every gifted "spiritual healer" is a fine person, though the gift of healing is a most important charismatic manifestation. These gifts are psychic, and they tend to inflate the personalities of those who have them. Indeed, a psychic irruption into a spiritually undeveloped person is as likely to have demonic results as divine ones. And unfortunately it is just such a charismatic person who is liable to attract those fresh on the path. A more profound understanding of the gifts of the Spirit is contained in the eleventh chapter of the book of Isaiah in his messianic prophecy (verses I to 3) : wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, and the fear of God, to which is added piety in the Christian tradition. In other words, these gifts of the Spirit lead one to a greater apprehension of the nature of God. Such a knowledge is as far above human cupidity as love is above self-interest. He who is full of the Spirit of God could no more exploit another creature for his own ends than he could seek the praise or approval of another person. It is a matter of perspective. He who has dined at the heavenly table (which is an insight into the nature of the Eucharist when celebrated in mystical awareness) is no longer enraptured by earthly food, but instead seeks to transmute the earthly to the heavenly. The closer one is to the divine source the less important do psychic gifts become. They are as much an encumbrance as material possessions to the spiritually dedicated person. But they cannot be denied; instead they are to be used for the edification of the world, for everything in existence comes from God and is to be brought back to Him redeemed and transfigured.
Our present period is one of intensive spiritual exploration, though this has little contact with the conventional sources of religion. Inasmuch as conventional religion seems more intent in maintaining the status quo and preserving its outer fabric than in exploring the inner world of spiritual reality, it is inevitable that the rising generation should acquire its knowledge of transcendent reality from esoteric, unorthodox sources. That we are on the brink of a "new age" is a commonplace assumption amongst the young of all ages. Judging by the great influx of psychic energy into the world that is manifest not only by cataclysmic political upheavals but also by an increased awareness by many people of the unseen realms of existence, there is considerable substance to this belief. However, it is fatuous to equate this increased psychic sensitivity with spiritual evolution. It could lead (and in view of its cardinal importance I cannot say this too often) to personal disintegration quite as easily as to self-realisation. The forces that are effecting this transformation have to be properly channelled, for they themselves, like all naked power, are ethically neutral. In affluent societies, the harnessing of psychic energy is already one of the more pressing problems at hand, since the age-old struggle for material survival has at last, to a large extent, been overcome by social advancement and a welfare state.
That the ascent of the mind to God cannot be achieved merely by the assertive personal will has already been noted. The grace of God must make the initial movement, but, I repeat, it acts most effectively on a prepared personality. The "preparations" that are in current vogue include those to which I have already referred, the use of drugs that lead to self-transcending experience and various types of meditation techniques. As regards drug-induced experience little can be said in its favour. The real criticism lies not so much in the method, or even in the medical hazards involved in the use of powerful drugs that affect the brain's mechanism, but in the unprogressive nature of the revelation vouch-safed. Even those whose personalities are not disrupted by an unheralded invasion of material from the unconscious part of the mind do not grow in spiritual stature. Instead they rely on the repeated use of the drug to get the same experience, which though no doubt idyllic at its zenith, collapses once more into the divisive state of material existence at its close.
The fruits of psychedelic experience can now be examined dispassionately, for quite a number of years have elapsed since drugs were first introduced into the Western youth culture. These fruits are not impressive; a dropping away from the world is no answer to the problem of its many inadequacies. Since we exist by the work of the society we condemn, we cannot exclude ourselves from it. Eventually we have to return and contribute to it, hopefully to transform it. In other words, drug-induced experiences are at their very best selfish excursions away from the difficulties of the present moment. By their escape from social involvement, they negate the spiritual quest and lead to greater self-centeredness.
I would like to add a further word on the current vogue for meditation in the Eastern mode, as it has much more to recommend it. Indeed, one of its greatest achievements has been to release many young people from the thraldom of psychedelic drugs into a world of clearer perception with an intact brain and a more integrated personality. In the last chapter I recorded some misgivings about the loss of physical identity inherent in meditation techniques that use a constantly repeated phrase or mantra. It is common knowledge amongst those engaged in psycho-therapeutic practice and spiritual direction that a certain number of mentally unbalanced people have been involved in meditation of this type. The psychiatric fraternity is therefore generally critical of meditation as a technique. On the other hand, teachers of these techniques, while not denying that some of their students do show signs of mental instability, would argue that the imbalance preceded the technique and would have manifested itself in due course even had the person not practiced meditation. Be this as it may, it is nevertheless important to discern beforehand the type of person who should avoid meditation techniques, or else use only those with a strongly discursive element that keeps the mind fully alert.
Certainly the most impressive instances of enhanced spiritual awareness and personal integration that have followed in the wake of these meditation techniques are encountered in the older, more mature person who is already grounded in a religious faith. Thus it is not uncommon for committed Christians to benefit considerably. They acquire an inner strength and balance that is a great help in gaining a deeper understanding of their particular tradition. The emphasis in the Judaic-Christian tradition is much more on outer action than on the contemplative life. These recently introduced techniques of stilling the mind can help to redress the balance and make the person more integrated around his true self. In the young person, the spiritual value of these types of meditation is much more limited. While he may be weaned off his dependence on drugs by them, the young aspirant is very likely to remain attached to the technique which he regards as the apogee of spiritual knowledge. Indeed, the supercilious arrogance found amongst some of the devotees of idiosyncratic techniques of self-knowledge is unloving and cuts them off from a wider understanding of spiritual reality.
Spiritual experience is a small part of the spiritual life. There are no short cuts in the soul's journey to God. The valleys of suffering are as much a part of the trial as are the mountains of illumination. The validity of a technique lies in the added strength it gives us while we are traversing the arid plains of daily life. In itself it may degenerate into an idol and actually divert us from the vision of God.
Exactly the same criticism must be leveled at some aspects of the charismatic movement. When a person is laid open to what is called the Holy Spirit, he also becomes sensitive to various psychic currents that emanate from his own unconscious mind and the collective unconscious of which Jung speaks. The gift of "speaking in tongues" is not a neurotic manifestation, as its antagonists would assert, but neither is it the last word in prayer. It is a manifestation of a liberated personality articulating its praise to God in a language beyond the bounds of reason. As such it is a liberating experience, but the downflow of psychic energy that may follow this event can lead to severe mental aberration in unbalanced people.
The in-pouring of psychic energies is not a panacea for all ills. If properly channelled and used, they can effect many of the wonderful phenomena described in the Acts of the Apostles, but if they are unleashed on an immature, unbalanced person, they are as likely to cause disintegration as healing. In other words, there is no magical means to salvation, and as I say no short cut to the encounter of man and God. There has to be a progressive growth in the full being of the man before illumination can be fully appreciated and integrated into his personality.
Of far greater value in the spiritual ascent are the well-tried techniques of yoga, which I referred to in an earlier chapter. The way defined by the great spiritual master Patangali is especially helpful. Here the body is given its due place in the scheme of things, and the will is strengthened by the painstaking exercises performed to attain the classical postures. Breathing is acknowledged in its rightful place, and the mind is trained to move beyond discursive thought to that void which is vibrant with life. From this we can learn that a real technique of spiritual advance does not ignore any part of the personality. It develops body and mind, strengthens the will, and liberates the soul. While we should seek to depose the intellect from its seat of crushing domination of the personality, we must never deny its discriminating function. Irrationality is the way to the demonic, and all anti-intellectual philosophies should be eschewed as vigorously as a desiccated intellectualism that denies any mode of being outside the range of the five senses.
The great defect inherent in much Eastern spirituality is the inadequate emphasis laid on grace in the ascent to ultimate reality. This is in part due to the lack of emphasis on the personal nature of God. In the Western theistic tradition the fact of grace is more easily accepted, but a smug reliance on the saving grace of God upon all who "believe" in him (a belief that is usually intellectual and theological rather than existential) all too often leads to spiritual flabbiness. An arrogant assertiveness is usually a facade that hides an inner uncertainty about spiritual reality. What is needed is a synthesis of the classical techniques of Eastern religion with the experience of grace and the infusion of the Holy Spirit that has followed in the wake of the Christian revelation. This synthesis is now being pioneered in some religious houses in the Catholic tradition, and the results are impressive. This is real ecumenism : there is no attempt to deny the differences in emphasis between various traditions or to effect an artificial syncretism. There is instead a deepening understanding of the roots of each tradition, and a union based not on theological manipulations but on the love that follows mystical awareness.
Of course, the various orders in the Roman Catholic Church have their own schemes of spiritual development. The Ignatian Exercises of the Society of Jesus are particularly celebrated, but there are many others also. Nevertheless, these are all specialised and are unlikely to find great currency outside the communities for which they were designed. In any case, their neglect of the development of the whole person-body as well as mind-is unlikely to make them of great interest in the contemporary scene. Nor is the Holy Spirit always allowed leadership in rigidly defined modes of discursive meditation. In another Christian tradition, a meditation based on a deep contemplation of some great sentence from the Bible, so that its essence is distilled from the words that enclose it, is used to bring the mind to an awareness of God, and this can be of great help in integrating the personality.
Each person has to test various techniques to find the one which is true for him. So much depends on our own individuality. This is why we must not be hostile to any movement that releases man from servitude to materialism to an awareness of deeper reality. But the spirit must be tested, and this can only be done effectively in love guided by wisdom. A technique, or a particular school of metaphysical speculation, may be essential for us at a particular stage of our spiritual growth. But as soon as its presuppositions or consequences limit us in our ascent to God, it must be left behind, not in sorrow or anger, but rather in gratitude for what it has taught us about spiritual reality.
I have spoken several times about the importance of guidance on the spiritual path. It is a fact that there are natural mystics and spiritual directors, and part of the price they pay for the privilege of spiritual understanding is to guide and encourage others less advanced than themselves in knowledge on the path. In meditation, and especially in the practice of yoga, an experienced teacher is essential. He must be aware of the psychological effects of spiritual unfoldment-and here an understanding of modern depth psychology is useful-and also be able to discern psychic invasions into the personality so that he can guide the aspirant through the snare of the psychic to the full light of the spiritual. As I have said, not all psychic phenomena are to be deprecated-some are of great value-but it requires the gift of discernment of spirits to see which influences are beneficial and which are stultifying. The ignorance of most of those engaged in psychotherapy and psychiatry about the psychic part of man's nature, coupled with the deep fear felt by most priests, make this important subject taboo in the very quarters where a person possessed of psychic powers would naturally turn for guidance. A spiritual director cannot afford to be ignorant in these matters; indeed, if he is a true guide, he will almost certainly have had personal experience of the psychic field of existence.
A genuine teacher never vaunts himself. He is humble and unobtrusive. He does not overwhelm other people with evidence of psychic powers. Thus he does not read into the past or the future nor indulge in criticisms from a seat of authority. While he may indeed possess gifts of clairvoyance and precognition, he does not use them for his own exaltation in the eyes of others. The reality he sees is, in any case, far beyond the range of psychism. What concerns him is the aspirant's attitude to life, how he is bearing the burdens that life thrusts on him, and the way the personality is integrating around the focal point of the soul. He can assess the quality of meditation experienced by the disciple by the power of concentration manifested in the day-to-day affairs of life. And he can guide the disciple into greater depths of silence in which the still voice of God is heard. A real teacher is not interested in signs and wonders. He is concerned about the spiritual awakening of mankind. He knows that only when the kingdom of God is realised in the person can signs and wonders naturally proceed from him. And at this stage they lose their glamorous impact.
A teacher should not be actively approached from afar, for the person thus selected is almost certain to be the wrong one. The law is well known, "When the pupil is ready, the master appears." His appearance is often so casual as to appear fortuitous, but the impact he makes on the soul of the aspirant speaks of deep truth. The teacher, like any other human being, is not infallible, but the particular gift he has to offer is the one which the aspirant needs at that stage of his progress.
A special type of teacher is the guru. In the approach to God some people require a relationship of absolute dedication to a spiritually exalted person, in whom they see the divine essence and through whom alone they can reach a knowledge of God. Its advocates have no doubt that, except in such a dedicated attachment, the aspirant cannot proceed further along the spiritual path. The truth of the matter lies in all probability somewhere between a complete disregard for human teachers and an absolute dependence on them. For those of a very devotional temperament the presence of a guru is no doubt necessary until such time as the teacher can evoke those inner powers of discernment by which the disciple's spiritual advancement can occur independently of human aid. For others of a more independent nature such an intense attachment is quite alien. In their path they will come upon those more advanced in understanding than they are, and these teachers will act as beacons of enlightenment and encouragement, but such aspirants will see beyond personal attachment to any one teacher. To me this is the healthier path, especially for those who recognise the supremacy of Christ (both cosmic and incarnate) and are tractable to the guidance of the Holy Spirit within them. A teacher, or spiritual director, should aim at making a disciple so integrated within himself that he can respond positively to the Holy Spirit.
The danger of devotion to any human source of knowledge is that of fundamentalism. Whatever the guru teaches is taken as the truth, and the aspirant merely exchanges a scriptural or ecclesiastical authority for a personal one. As elsewhere, we cannot accept any second-hand knowledge as the truth. It has to be proved by the experience that comes to us as we live purposefully and dangerously.
The religious community is an integral part of several religious traditions, notably Buddhism and Catholic Christianity. Here a group of people are united in the quest for reality at the cost of personal comfort or worldly advancement. The life is austere, and the religious exercises observed keep the mind fixed on the source of being, to which the creature moves in selfless dedication. But the most taxing part of the monastic life is the resolution of personal tensions. In close communion with others of differing temperaments, it is impossible to remain detached from the impingement of hostile psychic forces that arise from within oneself no less than from others around one. No secrets can be hidden in this closely related group, and the wounding realisation of one's inadequacy can make life very difficult. We learn from this that life is a constant relationship, or as Martin Buber puts it; "All real living is meeting."
Can a group of people work in a rather less formalised type of community, one in which the religious element is less dominant and outer relationships in the world are more cultivated? This is one of the problems of people who are united in a common quest for the good life, but do not necessarily all belong to a single religious tradition. There have been many attempts at establishing such communities over the centuries. The common link has varied from an idealistic type of socialism to a vegetarian theosophical metaphysic. In the end non-religious communities tend to disintegrate. One cannot form a closed group of any permanence except under the leadership of God. Thus the well-tried religious communities are unlikely to be superseded.
But there should be a place also for dedicated workers in the world, unbound by external vows and not necessarily unmarried, to live in close communion with each other. Whether this is an enclosed a area of land or whether they live separately in the secular city is not of fundamental importance. The essential requirement is that they should be in close contact with each other, so that they can work as a team. Indeed, this concept of a community is less exclusive than the traditional one, for the members are also in close relationship with the world and its needs. The inner group could meet at regular intervals for meditation, prayer, and a domestic Eucharist, or equivalent sacrament, depending on the religious tradition of those participating. It seems likely that intimate groups of this type will be the foundation of the church of the future. In such a group there might be that love which is the basis of real spiritual communion, a love so obviously absent from most conventional church services. If love flourished among groups of people in a domestic setting, it would radiate from them to others who might then be brought, by their own desire, into this intimate communion. In such a manner more and more people would be made aware of the abiding nature of God's love as revealed in human relationships, and the divine community might really be established through a willed effort.
The spiritual path embraces the whole of life. The discipline of relationships within a difficult community is as much part of the ascent of the mind to God as is the time set aside for prayer. Every work done with single-minded purpose, with an intent concentration, is a spiritual exercise. If one's mode of living leads to impaired efficiency in the work at hand or if it results in a neglect of personal relationships, it is not spiritually based no matter how frequently it is punctuated by meditation or embellished with inner experiences.
The spiritual life should also be a fruitful life in the world - fruitful not so much in acquiring the good things of life for oneself as in making these more available to other people. The type of person who never really achieves anything practical and depends for his existence on the support of his friends is no credit to the spiritual life. On the contrary, he would be a support for his weaker brethren if his life were truly spiritually based. The realised mystic is the most practical of men because of his widened vision and greater freedom of self-expression. In addition, he can relate more easily to a greater variety of people than can the materially based person.
The fruit of spirituality is joy-a constant joy in every situation. For the earth is good, and life is worth while despite its many dark moments. The present suffering is in no way to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed in us. This great insight of St. Paul is the result of faith made real by mystical illumination.
The great mystics of the world have all had first-class minds. Think of the Buddha and Shankara in the Eastern tradition or St. Paul, Plotinus, St. Augustine, Meister Eckhart, St. John of the Cross, and Jakob Boehme in the West. This does not mean that only the intellectual type of person can aspire to mystical illumination. The mind that is tractable to illumination is one that is well trained and proficient in practical life. Arid intellectualism is a barrier to mystical experience. Nevertheless, mysticism yields its most valuable fruit when the experience can be interpreted and brought into a living framework by a well trained reasoning mind.
In no area of life is the balance between intuition and intellect more important than in the interpretation of mystical experience. Thus the disciple should take every opportunity of broadening his mind by keeping abreast of new developments in the various fields of human endeavour. A blinding revelation of divine truth can be made visible to the remainder of the world by the intellectual proficiency of the mystic.
We turn finally to the main task of life, the building of the body that matters most, the spiritual body.