May 042013
 


Mark Johnson, New South Wales Regional Meeting.

 

Leadings pose a sharp challenge to our proud self-sufficiency. Some approaches to the question posed to us of Leadings focus upon the debates over what it is that leads. A valid question, because Leadings are inherently about a relationship between that which leads and that led. It is call and response, and it is also a recognition that we only come to be in a more profound sense insofar as we are open to the invitation by another. Leadings question the small certainties, idols even, of our worldviews. In a culture that celebrates the narrowly rational and self-sufficient; Leadings call to us about other possibilities.

But this small article will focus upon one aspect of this relationship: because Leadings implicitly ask us to consider what type of beings are we that can be led? The question is a direct challenge to our self-certainties and, too, our failure of nerve and imagination as we run from the implications of call and response into a small bolt-hole of denial and self-absorption. Are we fixed and isolated, or open and engaged? Are we a static self or a porous self?

Leadings pose a particular challenge to contemporary “Western” society. This is no longer an age of faith, but rather one typified by a turn to the subjective self and all of the dualistic notions inherent to that construct. Many purveyors of the subjective self are utterly unaware of the source of their fascination, not realising that this turn to the self was actually inaugurated within “Western” thought by the philosopher Rene Descartes. We never speak and think in a paradigmatic vacuum. Terms like self and soul (our contemporary notion of self as having evolved from Descartes’ notion of soul) arose from and only make sense within a Cartesian worldview, and close much of the range of “Western” thought off from older understandings of self as image, and soul as the form of the body.

Essentially for the purposes of this article, we are heirs of a paradigmatic shift to a fixed or closed self. This poses very real challenges to any discussion about ‘Leadings’.

Descartes tactically mirrored his idea of the soul upon older understandings and usages. Interiority was nothing new to Descartes’ readers. The Seventeenth century was, amongst other things, heir to a widespread  resurgence of mysticism, particularly Carmelite and Rhineland “schools” of mysticism. The fundamental difference between Cartesian usages of soul and that of the apophatic mysticisms of the aforementioned “schools” was the proscribed ends of the differing methods. Cartesian methodology strove for a purging of falsity so to encounter the inner certainty of a pristine consciousness.

I am sure that you have heard of the maxim “I think, therefore I am”, well, here is the fount of the Cartesian method – it is the one foundation upon which again to build certainty. Thought, consciousness, the thinking self, the untrammelled vision from which all could be verified. Soul had been transformed from the Teresian “Interior Castle” (to give but one example of mystical interiority) into the new nucleus of identity and inviolate subjectivity, and most of today’s gurus and disciples of the self are running blind with this baggage.

This is the contemporary turn to the self, or subject, that I mentioned earlier. It is a turn (or paradigmatic shift) which no longer looks outside so to discover truth, but makes our subjective rationality the arbiter of truth. It celebrates the “I” as its own end. Careers and reputations are built upon getting us in touch with this Cartesian construct. To my thinking it is so odd that just as science was appreciating that the earth and humanity was not the centre of the universe, Cartesian rationalism was in fact weaving a paradigmatic web which would place us again at the centre.

This small backgrounding about Cartesian thought is simply to indicate that any discussion we have today about self and soul cannot be done without understanding what exactly is meant by such ubiquitous and often lazily used terms, specifically within a “Western” context. It is such an understanding of self and soul that is most intimately challenged by our topic at hand. What can it mean for such a construction of self and soul to be led?

It is my claim that such a construction cannot be led or healed. It is closed. It is inviolate. Today’s therapeutic gurus of the sick self and soul lead us down into  cul-de-sacs of self-absorption, getting us to listen to our “inner truth”, or to our “soul” without any reference to or understanding of the history of how such a term has been reconstructed in ways closed to transcendence, closed to the larger freedom which lies outside of our shallow interior hall of mirrors – closed to God.

It is of no surprise that God has so little place in Quaker life and thought today given how so many are enamoured by the “vain imaginings” that pour from a Cartesian construct, nurturing it, worshipping it – and all the while inconsistently raging against the wreck that such a construct has inflicted upon the world.

It is no wonder that so many with an activist bent among us are so angry, because some part of them is raging against the cul-de-sac they have been led into and the impotence it engenders in the attempts to transform the world according to the imperatives dictated by the “I” writ gargantuan. Something is wrong, a psychic torment ensues. Whilst spending income over and over on again getting in touch with this constructed self might be well and good on a retreat, or via it being continually regurgitated via books and other media product, it is this same construct that gives itself permission to transform creation into world, and cosmos into universe – stripping all of transcendence, being driven steadily egomaniacal by its engorging upon its own image.

Without the capacity to be led we are being driven mad by the endless echo of our own solitary voice amplified to infinity. Devoid of the capacity to see beyond our self-interests, the world around us becomes nothing more than our own face mirrored back to us – a “No-Exit” of our own small creating. How much God substitutes of self and soul can we endure?

Leadings are a challenge to this nightmare. Leadings speak of a freedom that we have blithely forgotten – freedom for engagement with a larger ground of existence. God is not a mere term. God is not an ordering principle. God is not an over-bearing and moralising this or tyrannical that. It is people that are those things – and they don’t have to use “God” to achieve such ends, any self-serving tool or discourse will do. Rather, God is no-thing, and beyond this God is experience and invitation. Early Friends were aware of this. Living experimentally was not an invitation to live via method, but rather living in the immediacy of eternity. Early Friends were well read in the Gospel of John, writings of Quietists, apophatic mystics, Jacob Boehme and other pointers to the Kingdom of God. Early Friends, with the aid of such masters of experience, saw through the merely notional, saw through its inconsistencies and hypocrisies, saw past the notional smudges which too easily become those idols which force our gaze back upon our distorted selves, ensnaring our vision – leading us to false gods.

Leadings are always about Grace – invitation and call. Leadings are always about the open doorways to God. They are about “the life”. Can we understand them? No, we experience them – through a life lived as leading.

The mystic Meister Eckhart was once asked why we are alive. The answer: To be alive. We live so to live. This could very well be the question posed by a Cartesian to an early Friend, the one rationalising the other responding in the life. All the way to heaven is Heaven, as the mystic Catherine of Sienna once said. So too the path to life is being led, if only we again let our souls be porous, if only we be vigilant in regards to those notions which steer us into closure. The seed is scattered wide and far and yet so much becomes ensnared. Leadings save us from the delusion that self-absorption is right-ordering.

Ultimately, Leadings speak to us of a porous soul open to being led, rather than the fixed soul of popular Cartesian obsession. Do you have the humility to again be led?

Jun 062012
 

Reg Naulty. Canberra Regional Meeting.

Patience regains strength

for timely resilience;

when we must move

sometimes even shrewd

action does not suffice.

We need openness

to the beyond

which is akin;

something may filter in

to the quiet soul

making for resolve.

Touched by God`s sense,

we shall recognize malevolence;

if wolves there are

in sheep`s clothing, from afar

we shall see them

and shepherd them hence.

In cases more dire

we may have to dare;

may courage be ours,

and friends, and power

from beyond, then on

to the kingdom.

May 282012
 


Fiona Gardner. Victoria Regional Meeting.

A Chinese village is besieged by drought and unless there is rain quite soon the village will starve to death. They have tried everything they know, so they finally decide to send at great distance for the famous rainmaker. He consents to come and arrives at the village. He asks immediately to please build him a straw hut outside the village, to give him five days of food and water, and not to disturb him. The villagers do as he asks quickly. The rainmaker disappears into the hut and on the fourth day it rains just in time to save the village. The villagers go to the hut and drag the man out blinking into the light, give him his fee and pour all the gifts they can upon him. An enormous outpouring of gratitude for he had indeed saved the village. One man came to him and said how do you do it, what ceremony can you do that makes it rain? And the rainmaker said ‘Oh, you must understand, when I came to your village, I was so out of sorts inside myself that I had to put things right inside and I never got to the rainmaking ceremony.’

I first read this story in a book written by Robert Johnson many years ago and have used it several times at Meeting for Learning. Although I’ve read it many times now, I always find it moving. Last time I used it at Meeting for Learning, I felt led to explore more deeply why and what resonates for me.

The more I thought about the story the more depth and wisdom it seemed to offer both for me as an individual and for us collectively as a community and society. In many ways this is a story about seeking wholeness, understanding what happens when we remain divided from the essential aspects of ourselves. This lack of wholeness from paying attention to what is meaningful contributes to a sense of aridity or dryness, a lack of joy and richness in living, what is often named as boredom or frustration with modern life. The rainmaker in the story recognises that life somehow works better if we pay attention to soul or spirit.

People in workshops have generally also resonated with the story using it to generate their own sense of meaning. Part of what is consistent is seeing how to work with this story on a number of levels: the concrete, actual world of our physical environment and what this means; the understanding of connectedness between our inner and external worlds in relationships and reactions; and a metaphorical sense about our need for an internal ‘rainmaker’ – recognising our need for replenishing at a deeper or ‘soul’ level.

I think part of what resonates for me is simply the concrete level of the experience of drought and its impact upon the villager’s community. My own experience of this has been living through ten years of drought in rural Victoria where the impact is, of course, much less than in many other places. Even so, the metaphor of dryness had an external reality, watching the browning of paddocks until there was no growth left and trying to keep at least some small parts of the garden alive. The heat of the summers combined with the lack of rain drew the moisture out of the land to such an extent that any water poured onto it simply drained away. When the rain came, at a fundamental level, we felt replenished, rejuvenated, regenerated. It was as if we too, like the land, had had a sense of being dried up.

One of the benefits of the drought was that communities and politicians looked differently at their environments. Rural communities are often more conscious of the cycles of the seasons and of changing weather patterns. The story reminds us of the harmony and interconnectedness of all things, the need to pay attention to our environment which is part of who we are, to be more respectful of the earth and what it offers. Drought also confronts us with not being in control which is very helpful in the spiritual journey, reminding us about what really matters in our lives.

At another level, this story reminds us that how we are internally will have an impact externally on those around us as well as the environment we live in. Perhaps one of the most obvious examples of this is when we are individually tired or stressed or simply in a grumpy mood and how this affects others. We express our inner lack of well-being either consciously or unconsciously. Children learn to read the mood in their families from very young age, sensing when it is safe or not to ask for or about something. The signs can be very subtle: the slightest change in body language indicating anger, withdrawal or sadness. One of the ways of connection with what is happening internally, is to explore strong reactions to others, either positive or negative and to ask what’s theirs and what’s mine: am I seeing in the other what I can’t acknowledge in myself?

A third level of resonating with this story for me is thinking about how all of the aspects of the story represent some inner aspect of ourselves: the villagers for example could represent the need for help and support in times of dryness. The villagers are very clear about what they have already tried and what they now need to do, what the potential cost might be and how important it is to pay the price. The rainmaker – who can represent another aspect of self – is also clear about what his needs are; he requests them clearly and without fuss. The implication of the story is that if we can call on our own rainmaker to get things right internally this will have positive implications for what happens for us and in the world around us. Would we as individuals create less conflict if we spent more time in our own internal hut getting ourselves right? We could also think about this at the level of groups and nations who are internally so in conflict that they project this conflict out onto others.

If we think about the rainmaker story in this way, it is clear that we each need to work out who or what our own rainmaker represents: what is it that we need to bring about restoration, what gifts or resources or strength do we have that we can call on that will rejuvenate and restore us? Perhaps a useful question here is where you feel most wholly yourself? Sometimes people find it useful to think about where do I feel I have my greatest sense of integrity? For others it’s useful to think about where do I have that sense of being connected to all things, a sense of universality. Jung talks about the journey of our life being towards wholeness and he sees this as a religious or spiritual quest. Asking questions then about where we feel most whole where we feel more spiritually grounded or centred, helps us keep focused on this journey.

Apr 302012
 


Drew Lawson, Victoria Regional Meeting.

 

on reading of the mystical way

speak these words

with the voice

of your soul

feeling the sound

vibrate

your being

listen

with the ear

of the heart

leaving the work

of the mind

until the infused silence

has revealed

what is

beyond

these mere words

allow

these doors

to open

upon

your own bliss

which will

reveal

a thousand thousand

blessings

enabling

you to embrace

bodhichitta

and bathe creation

in an ocean

of great good

*

where does it come from

this book you have made

with pages of fear

constraining your heart

proclaiming

what your life is not

the cannots and impossibilities

the demeaning smallness

denying your nature

in the image of alaha?

this tomb of a tome

fences you in

with blindness to the truth

of your being

encouraged to wither

its existence becomes

an unseen mystery

an itch

scratched with the wrong hand

irritating

instead of healing

whose voice

has captured you?

and with your allowing

sent you to the hell

which is the denial

of the long, long, list

of alaha’s graces to you

the long, long list

of alaha’s gifts to you

the long, long list

of the diamonds shining

in your heart

when did you learn

to say no to alaha?

when will you say yes?

with no answers

you sit in the unending

stream of love

in a landscape

where there is no drought

but unceasing baptism

this water does not

clean you

for you are

this water is empty

of gifts

for you have everything

this turbulent water

is alaha’s dance of joy

at your existence

the roar of universal communion

singing the song of greeting

to their blessed sibling

polishing the preciousness

you have always been

scrubbing away the moss of lies

to reveal

yourself

to yourself

divine and infinite

being of alaha

blessed beyond measure

generous beyond weighing

loving as the depth

of the cosmic ocean

look in the mirror

of alaha dearest one

and be flabbergasted

by reality

*

centuries

of small theology

have left us

harming christ

by refusing

to embrace

the gift of our being

made in the image of god

encountering the divine

we rear away

like a startled horse

whose staring eye

has seen

the consequences

our own divinity

which threatens

to break us

open

into the endless

blessing

we have

unknowingly

always

been

*

i stand

facing countless blessings

incarnated

as hedge leaves

a vibrantly green choir

singing

in the spring air

*

prayerful silence

is

a demolition ball

pounding

all constraints

into a mountain of rubble

to be cleansed

in the flowing river

and recycled

into a temple

of adoration

of our bridegroom

who came

to set us free

from all

inhibitions constructed

from the bricks of fear

anger and guilt

releasing

a monastic enclosure

whose limits are

a torrent

of edgeless love

yes

yes

a monastery

without walls

containing all

of the impermanent

evolving cosmos

constantly baptised

by the living stream

which is

the eternally infinite

mystical ocean

welcome to your being

*

blue

blue

hangs

in the air

serenely

present

a divine

infusion

rising

from the earth

to attract

our attention

reminding

our heart

each step

is enfolded

*

longer and longer

i sit in silence

until i am

no longer waiting

alaha speaks

release your song

let your mystical being

live

as a fully open door

a wind of love

infusing the cosmos

with song

sung through your being

into the ears of all

mystics

throughout eternity

*

the lintel

gives the clue

when we look

with our heart

rather than

the mind

which only sees

a bricked-up doorway

stopping

our desires

the seemingly vertical

and blocking stones

are

the welcoming path

waiting for us

to allow ourselves

to believe

our vision

caressed

by the spirit

which is

forever opening

what we think of

as closed

*

the song of my heart

is

a doorway

filled

with shadow

inviting me

into

what i cannot

see

*

in the land

of the spirit

the grass

is

still

singing

a thousand songs

of green

drawing us

into

the incarnation

of love

un-noticed

when

our outer spontaneities

are

disconnected

from

our being

*

the stone walls

cold and moist

with morning rain

touch my hand

entrance my eye

bend my knee

and i sit

leaning

against the upholder

of my being

as the baptismal spring

begins

again

silently

i sing

with the joy

of the pilgrim

at home

amidst ruins

alive with the lineage

of all contemplatives

*

on top

of a mountain

vision

is

blinded

by the insistent

blue

prising open

the eternal

eye

of the soul

waiting

for the descending

cloud

of unknowing

to baptise

with sight

*

the window

beckons me

to fly straight

as a meditation

into the mystery

of the source

unconstrained

by materiality

each vibrant colour

of the hill-side and sky

fruitful

emanations of the beauty

of the unseen

silence

singing

at the centre

of each geographic moment

arising

from the divine emptiness

infusing

yet beyond

the seen

and unimagined universe

flying

flying

flying

soaring

the ever open

window

disciplines the flight

into the infinite

space

encompassed

by the eternal hermitage

walls glowing

with the darkness

of all meaning

hidden

in clear sight

to be found

by the faithfulness

of the bride

*

amorphous forms

of words deceive

with dictionary definitions

that cannot

explain the i am

of colin mccahon

or the swirling

letters and words

of aida tomescu

we use

a million pieces of rope

in a deluded attempt

to tie life

to a mythology

devoid

of the human heart

and end up

nowhere

this is

the nowhere

of confused lostness

not

the nowhere

of everywhere

given as our birthright

of connectedness

infusing

all with all

and from the silence

of nowhere

which is

everywhere

light

is

spoken

*

on her first

much longed for

pilgrimage

to iona

the abbey church

disappoints

the sadness

filling her

like a wave

flows

down her cheeks

and reduces her

sprightliness

to the walk

of the living dead

the living stone

that had uplifted

her heart

over the miles

of her geography

turned out to be

merely

a museum

so much she couldn’t see

through

her tear filled eyes

yet on entering

the pale

of the nunnery

she finds

the nuns waiting

for her

*

the lintel

is

large

and heavy

to pin

all

in place

like a key

turning

in a lock

it floats

into place

on a cushion

of divine silence

releasing

the compassion

of the mystic

heart

*

flowing

mystical

essence

unlocks hearts

unlocks hearts

and is

my doing

by being

*

in disappearing

i struggle

as tentacles

of the worldly desire

to be seen

tug me out

of the awareness

of the divine

entrancing my mind

with seductions

of the temporary

i hesitate

at the choice

between death

and the eternal

*

the window

which is

my soul

looked out

from my cave

on the mountain of god

and saw

a space so enormous

that my being

as naturally as breathing

expanded

into union

with the divine

and the valley of my illusions

fell away

revealing

god’s constant call

to rebuild

the nunnery on iona

with blocks

of silence

*

earthquake

of my heart

you sit

so still

under a celtic cross

while facing

the abbey

on our iona

marvellous music

sings

through our conversation

of silence

interspersed with words

as exclamation marks

on our voyage

that never ends

for it is

always

just beginning

*

my being

is

a hermitage

cathedral

expanding

all notions

of inner-space

until all is

beyond

all notions

*

my hermitage

is

a cave

on the mountain

of god

firing

clouds

of unknowing

into hearts

confused

by certainty
*

dancing

through the cloud

of unknowing

reveals

a sacred arch

framing

the ancient tree

of wisdom

planted

in our own soil