Religious Scholar

Two other assertions involve the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, the seminal yoga text. The statement was made that mind is the greatest obstacle to yoga development, specifically meditation and the states that arise from it. This is not exactly what Patanjali says. He uses the Sanskrit word, vritti, which refers to the waves or ripples or vibrations of the mind, not to Mind itself. Mind itself is the pure mirror, the pure lake undisturbed by turbulence. Meditation stills the seemingly uncontrollable movement of these waves allowing us to see through Mind into Truth. Meditation is not mindlessness, but true mindfulness.

The second assertion regarding Patanjali involves yoga postures. Most people in the West equate these postures, or asanas, with the totality of Yoga, which is incorrect. The assertion was made that the student must master the postures first before proceeding to meditation and enlightenment. This is not what Patanjali says. In fact, among all his sutras (teachings), there is only one short sentence about asanas.  It is often translated, "You must have good posture." So clearly, at least according to this first text of Yoga, the many complex and often uncomfortable postures assumed by students, while they may have many benefits, are not indispensible to spiritual development.

As for sexuality, we need more research into the link between sensual desire and spiritual hunger, even asking whether the spiritual quest is as keen in those who have transcended the unsettling sensuality of their youth. An interesting topic for another time.

Once again, Teacher, thank you for making us think and challenge our own assumptions and to follow the questioning path that leads to understanding.

Mother Teresa is in the news again, thanks to the speculation by literary gadfly Christopher Hitchens as to whether she suffered from a major depression precipitated and prolonged by the Roman church.

Depression is a serious illness acknowledged by the scientific community and recognized by most religious traditions. Modern medicine, whose mission in part is to relieve suffering, understandably seeks to cure or at least ameliorate the symptoms of this devastating condition.

After some false starts during the Renaissance, the Roman Catholic Church has become one of the major faith traditions that is most appreciative of the value of scientific and medical intelligence. However, while spirituality and scientific materialism may share common ground, there are distinctions—some obvious, some subtle—which warrant frequent examination.

One of these is the difference between depression and “Dark Night.” Spiritual darkness—a sense of abandonment by God, dryness, desolation—is a condition that a number of religious traditions accept as a normal part of the seeker’s path to enlightenment. Known in the West as “Dark Night of the Soul,” after a poem by the 16^th century Spanish monk, John of the Cross, the phenomenon is also recognized in Buddhism and Hinduism, and probably in other religions with which I am less familiar.

Within Christianity, it is not a uniquely Catholic phenomenon, but part of the shared history of Christian communities throughout the world.  Walter Hilton, the 14^th century English Christian; Teresa of Avila, 16^th century Spanish nun; and John Bunyan, 17^th century English author, all explained the evolution of the spiritual life through the metaphor of a ladder or journey. In another faith tradition, Hinduism, the image of the ladder is used to depict the ascent of spiritual energy through the Kundalini channels or to represent the eight stages of Yoga leading to the supreme encounter with the Divine.

For those outside a faith tradition, these ideas may seem like magical mumbo-jumbo. But in fact, a close examination of the lives of saints of all religions reveals that many pass through the fires of hell before they can gain a clear vision of truth that they can share with others. An excellent example of this enlightened person is the Bodhisattva in Buddhism, who foregoes total immersion in divine bliss in order to help all creatures scale the ladder to understanding.

Of course, any person suffering from depression should ask for and receive medical help. It is a serious, life-threatening condition. Dark Night is not quite the same thing. It is a specific stage—sometimes lasting for years—that certain people encounter when they set out to follow a strict life, within a particular religious framework, leading to a personal encounter with Truth. All the religions that offer this pathway to realization also provide techniques, counsel and support for those on the journey. No one could make this journey alone and survive.

The final goal, the last rung on the ladder, is not something odd or transcendent. It is pure clarity and understanding. Hinduism says it is like a bright gemstone, Zen Buddhism says it is like a mirror or a pond. We see the world and ourselves through a glass very darkly, to paraphrase the Apostle Paul. The glass is covered with soot, grime, the haze of time. At the end of our climb up the ladder of ascent, the dirt has been swept away: the mirror shines. In its reflection, we see our true Self or, as some would phrase it, the Maker of all things. Once our own mirror is bright, then we are in a position to help others overcome obstacles and approach the light.

One does not need to suffer depression to achieve this state of utter normalcy. But there is an established tradition in world religions in which darkness precedes the dawn.  While not for everyone, it is a journey that many attest can lead to great meaning and peace.

Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862) discovered a deep wellstream of spirituality as he contemplated the natural world. But his path was not one of an idle dreamer. Thoreau was trained as a teacher, immersed in the classics. It was through a love and understanding of Plato, the pre-Socratics and Judaeo-Christian essential teachings in the West and the spiritual classics of the East (primarily Indian and Chinese sacred texts) that his mind was prepared to accept the rich revelations of the natural world. Sometimes stormy and violent, often tranquil and seeming to be suspended in silent time, the natural world never failed to reveal its secrets to this remarkable, but plain-living man. During recent visits to Concord, Mass., I took the photos below of areas he loved most: Walden Pond and the Concord River.