The Uses and Abuses of Religion and Spiritual Leadership Today

An Interview with Netanel Miles-Yépez

By Amitai Malone

Netanel Miles-Yepez. Don Murray Photography, 2011

Netanel Miles-Yepez. Don Murray Photography, 2011

AMITAI MALONE: Why do people have so many problems with religion?

NETANEL MILES-YEPEZ: I often hear complaints from people for whom ‘religion’ is a dirty word. They point to current conflicts in the mid-east and the Crusades and make sweeping statements like, “Religion is the cause of all wars and hatred between peoples.” Or, looking at historical examples and vestiges of patriarchal dominance in various religions today, they say, “Religions are responsible for subjugating women.” I understand what they are saying and where they are coming from when they say it; but my response is usually to challenge the assumptions underlying these statements. Often I say, “But religions don’t exist; so how can they be responsible for these things?”

AM: Meaning that there is no such ‘thing’ as religion; they’re putting the blame on a ghost, an apparition?

NM-Y: Exactly . . . Look around and show me a religion. It’s an abstraction, an idea; there is no object to receive the blame. There are only people, people who believe they ‘belong to a religion,’ and who believe that they are acting according to ‘its dictates.’ But who is really responsible for the so-called ‘crimes’ of religion? We need only look in a mirror. We have to start taking responsibility for what we do in the name of religion, and what other human beings have done in the past. You’d be on much surer ground to say, “Human beings are the cause of all wars and hatred between peoples,” and “Men have attempted to subjugate women.” Those statements are far less interesting, but at least they’re accurate. It’s just too easy and convenient to make religion a scapegoat for all the things we do to each other.

AM: Essentially, we hide our personal shadow material in a fictional enemy, projecting it onto a paper tiger that we can look good fighting.

NM-Y: Yes . . . And many of the abuses we see in religion come from people who are actually using it to execute other agendas. At a certain point in the mid-east, you were more likely to find impassioned Communists than Muslim extremists among the youth; because it was Communism in those years that seemed to be offering them a path to personal and political liberation. That was the agenda; Communism was the means of achieving it. When religion is used to achieve political agendas, there is a great danger of abuse.

AM: Then, is religion in itself neutral?

NM-Y: Well, I would say, like anything else, it can be used effectively . . . or misused, as it often is.

AM: As it was misused during the Crusades and other religious wars?

NM-Y: One doesn’t need to know a lot about psychology to know that young men will look for nearly any excuse to go to exotic lands and pull out their swords. The same is true of greedy men, except that they tend to ask the young men to do the rough work for them.

But how many wars were fought between Catholic Christian kings of European countries? They certainly weren’t fighting over religion. And even when they seemed to be, as we saw with the Thirty Years War between Catholics and Protestants, any historian will tell you it had just as much to do with a long-standing Bourbon-Hapsburg rivalry. And the truth is, we had plenty of wars before the ecclesiastical-political ascendency of Christianity and Islam that had little or nothing to do with religion, and two World Wars since. The Nazis considered it ‘unenlightened’ to persecute someone over religion; it was Semitic peoples they considered inferior. Was that better?

AM: I see, religion is not usually the cause of these conflicts; it is the vehicle. Then maybe we should talk about what religion is in itself and how it should be used. So can you tell me . . . What is religion?

NM-Y: Religion is a sociological construct meant to take us back to the primary experience from which it arose. It enshrines an ideal and provides one with a structured approach to spiritual awakening.

AM: And how should religions be used?

NM-Y: Ideally, according to the definition I have just given. That is to say, with an understanding that the religion is a boat that takes you somewhere, as the Buddha taught. What he actually said was that it is like a raft one uses to cross a river; once you are on the other side, you don’t need to carry the raft around on your back.

You see, religion should be used by us . . . and not the other way around. My teacher, Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, sometimes says: “Good religion puts itself in the service of God; bad religion puts God in the service of religion.” In the same way, good religion should serve the individual trying to get somewhere; it should not try to put the individual in the service of religion. When religious authorities start putting religious adherents in the service of the religion, things begin to go wrong. The focus of religious activity becomes the support of the religious structures and ecclesiastical authorities, and not the fostering of a primary spiritual experience.

“Christ.” by El Greco.

“Christ.” by El Greco.

If we take Christianity as an example, the source experience is Jesus’ profound realization of divine relationship, that he was a ‘son of God’; and by following his path we too might find our own way into the same realization. But if you really want to build Jesus up, to “pedestal-ize” him, as Alan Watts put it, making Jesus the Son of God, not a son of God, his realization becomes something that shouldn’t be sought by such as we. It would be hubris to think anyone else could achieve the same experience, or worse, heresy. So, once we put Jesus on that pedestal, then we don’t actually want anybody to achieve the same thing. And if Christianity is not meant to link us back to that peak primary experience in which we learn we are actually children of God, then what is it?

AM: And in the experience of learning that I am a child of God, I am also led into more universal frames of reference, which is dangerous to religious authority.

NM-Y: Very much so. And a religion that takes the source or peak experience off the table needs to offer a penultimate experience to its adherents. Now, the best one can do is to have some sort of unifying moment with Jesus himself, as opposed to God.

AM: So now experiences are mediated.

NM-Y: Yes, the peak primary experience is then mediated. Unifying experiences are potentially dangerous to the religious power structure, so they will want to offer ‘safer’ primary experiences. At the upper end of safe primary experiences might be confirming visions and auditory experiences of Jesus himself, or of his mother, Mary. On the lower end, an inner testimony of the spirit that allows one to invest more faith in the religious structure—enough to say it works, but not enough to challenge any of its conventions.

AM: How do we bypass the dysfunction and hierarchy of religions to engage in a primary experience of our own?

NM-Y: One doesn’t necessarily have to bypass religion at all. If it is functioning according to its true purpose, under the leadership of those who understand its function, it can serve a person very well. That is to say, if a religion is leaving a trail of breadcrumbs back to the source experience, or to experiences of depth, then there is no need to bypass anything.

But, whether it is functioning well or not, a person has always to take responsibility for their own spiritual path. Remember, you are relating to a social construct that doesn’t exist except in you! If you know that, then you know that what you do with that religion is most important.

In some ways, a religion is its magisterium, the body of associated teachings, traditions and technologies that have come down to us through the centuries. And each magisterium presents one with tools and structures that may be used to get somewhere. But one has to take responsibility for using the teachings and technologies available in these magisteria to achieve one’s goals. And one’s success will depend largely on one’s own integrity, on one’s own desires and potentials.

The Teacher-Student Relationship

AM: What are the actions one would take responsibility for?

NM-Y: Prayer, ritual, study. We’re the active ingredient in the relationship with that which the magisterium brings down to us.

AM: What is the litmus test for engaging one’s spiritual path with integrity? How do we know if we’re lining up with our own integrity? How do we know if our primary experiences are trustworthy?

NM-Y: Well, often we don’t. Often we’re in the dark in our own lives until some situation causes us to realize that we’re not doing something according to our own integrity. It has to be a realization. If we didn’t fumble around in the dark for a while, we’d never have an appreciation for the clarity that comes from the light. The preliminary ignorance is critical to creating a powerful realization. Even so, we’re not always very reliable about knowing whether we’re acting with integrity. For this reason—because we’re so liable to error, and so capable of fooling ourselves about our own motivations—we often need the guidance of a spiritual mentor.

The spiritual mentor or guide is meant to challenge you, to be objective, experienced, mature and intuitive enough, to be able to note when you are acting with integrity or not, to know when you are not challenging yourself, to notice when your excuses seem all too convenient.

AM: How do we know if a guide is qualified and trustworthy enough to help us maintain our integrity?

NM-Y: In the same way trust and understanding are built in any relationship—over time, and through situations that test the relationship. It’s said that Swami Vivekananda, the great disciple of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, tested his master for twelve years! Apparently Vivekananda had lingering doubts—he was a rational-scientific type—and yet, knew he was getting something good enough to merit staying in Ramakrishna’s orbit through all of those years.

We have to build a kind of inner testimony about the relationship: Do we come away from encounters enhanced or diminished? Are we being helped to integrate our qualities in a way that is more holistic, or are we being divided against ourselves? Are we being encouraged to put the guide on a pedestal, or is the guide working to empower and liberate us from such dependencies? These are questions to ask and things to watch. Once again, we have to take responsibility for our own spiritual paths. If we seem to be ceding responsibility for them to a teacher, or that teacher seems to be taking over that responsibility, there’s a question about the relationship there. It’s not necessarily, “Ah-ha! I see your evil plan now!” But we do have to watch out and be aware of how things are unfolding over time. Sometimes a spiritual guide has to turn a situation on its head to illustrate something, but there are also some pretty clear lines that one should be careful of crossing: there are few, if any, situations when a sexual relationship is appropriate between a teacher and student; and the consequences of giving or receiving extraordinary monetary gifts should be carefully considered.

And these cautions run both ways; it is not just the abuse of power that we have to consider. Sometimes students who are wealthy try to ‘buy’ spirituality and access to a teacher, or try to use their control of the purse strings as a means of avoiding being challenged. Likewise, some students who are attracted to the charisma of teacher mistakenly see sexual partnership as a quick route to having all that they want.

AM: Interesting, the temptation to offer one’s body as a substitute for one’s soul.

NM-Y: Charisma is magnetic and draws people naturally. Unfortunately, some tend to think that they can go right to the center of the magnetism and have it for themselves.

The Problems of Modern Spirituality

AM: What foundations need to be laid for a healthy spirituality in the future?

NM-Y: I really feel like the success-model of marketable spirituality we see everywhere today, where spiritual teachers are marketed like self-help gurus or contemporary celebrities, is antithetical to a deeply holistic and healthy spirituality, both for the teachers, and for those who look to them for guidance. The model—built as it is on Western consumerist notions of convenience, and ideas of extraordinary success—is distinctly unhelpful for doing anything meant to reduce the size of the ego to manageable proportions, or to fit one for service to God. In fact, it tends to have precisely the opposite effect.

Recently, someone sent me a quote from the Dalai Lama questioning these success-oriented values. He said something to this effect, “The world doesn’t need more successful people; it needs more peacemakers, healers and lovers of all kinds.”

“The Dalai Lama and Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi.” Foto di Vita, 1997.

“The Dalai Lama and Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi.” Foto di Vita, 1997.

Likewise, the corporate-organizational model used for spiritual communities in the West is also problematic. It may be a practical necessity to organize as a non-profit, but it seems a mistake to run a spiritual community like one. A spiritual community must be an incubator for spiritual transformation, and must also be based on intimacy and shared experience. It is harder to cultivate these things in the organizational model, where one becomes a member by filling out an application and paying dues.

We don’t need more organization for healthy spirituality; we need more organic connections for doing spiritual work. In so many ways, the traditional structures of communal practice and intimacy offered in Hasidism, Sufism, and the monastic orders of Christianity, are still the best organic models. The challenge is how to use them today.

AM: Are you suggesting we need to go back to the communal practice structures of the past?

NM-Y: No . . . I’m suggesting we explore ways in which they can be adapted to the present.

We don’t need to be contrarian, anti-modernist or anachronistic just because we feel there are problems with modern forms of spirituality. And we certainly can’t afford to avoid everything associated with the success-model and the corporate-organizational models out there either. We can’t afford to say, “They’re using those technologies, so we’re gonna’ avoid them.” We have modern problems to solve, and we need modern answers. They just don’t have to be cut-off from the more organic structures that have served us so well in the past.

There was a time in the early-to-mid 20th-century when every block in Warsaw had its own rebbe, a Hasidic master who led a group of neighborhood Hasidim. I assume there was a similar situation among the Sufis of Istanbul as well. But today, we tend to have group connections with people who live in widely disparate places. So, the question is: How can we keep up the contact and intimacy of the old local group, as it once existed in Warsaw and Istanbul, in our non-local groups of today? After all, our heart-connections are not less profound because we are physically separated from one another. And how can we not be a group knowing the rarity of such affinities of heart. We have to use the available technologies that make this possible—Skype and FaceTime—to maintain and enhance the intimacy between us, and as vehicles for spiritual guidance.

Spiritual Guidance and Community Today

AM: What of the tele-courses and video lectures that are so popular today? Often, the only guidance some spiritual practitioners receive is through recorded media.

NM-Y: Well, part of me wants to say, “It’s better than nothing.” But the other part knows it is inferior to direct, one-on-one spiritual guidance, and being present to one another in real-time. It’s not wrong, but it is clearly a stopgap measure. It’s not easy to make that situation work for deep spiritual transformation. How is the teacher’s mirroring-challenge to a particular student offered in that situation?

Now a person might say, “Every time I hear that lecture I feel challenged.” That’s good, and I know what they were talking about, having experienced it myself. But there are also major limitations and loopholes. The challenge is not alive and demanding a response in the way it would be if it were being directed at you from a teacher working from intuition. The only challenge you feel in the former situation is the one you allow yourself to feel. What about the challenge to those things you can’t see, that you are blind to?

In the end, learning from a video lecture is not much different from trying to learn spirituality from a book; both are wonderful vehicles for information, but much of the real nuance and subtlety is learned in relationship.

AM: In that informational context, one’s conscience is allowed more flexibility than in the direct situation of one-on-one confrontation, where one’s ego may get squeezed a bit.

NM-Y: Yes . . . Two people actually interacting is not a ‘technology’ we can afford to leave behind. It’s too bad that we don’t have porches anymore upon which we could sit in the evenings and interact with our neighbors as we used to. Our intense focus on isolating media is a problem for us. In fact, I tend to think that our increasing isolation is among the biggest dangers facing humanity today.

AM: And yet, we’re more technologically plugged-in and talk more than ever.

NM-Y: That’s the paradox: we talk more and say less than ever . . . on our phones, on Facebook, in Twitter, in Blogs, and in opinion posts. There is a lot of mind-chatter out there . . . reporting of ordinary daily activities and dropping half- and entirely un-considered opinions. The challenge is to use the same technology to facilitate intimacy, to communicate at depth, and to convey more valuable information for a community of spiritual seekers.

AM: Why is it so difficult to find that intimacy in a group setting today?

NM-Y: Akiva Ernst Simon, a professor at the Hebrew University in the 20th-century and student of Martin Buber said, “The people I can talk to, I can’t pray with; and the people I can pray with, I can’t talk to.” It’s difficult to find people with whom you can do both today, at least for some of us.

What we’re looking for is more overlap with people, people who are different, and yet, share enough with us to make us feel safer and more understood. Such communities have always been intimacy communities, as opposed to membership communities. With intimacy, you can be different; there can be love for one another without necessarily liking one another. But community members without an experience of intimacy are just people in a room together.

The Geologist of the Soul

AM: How does this relate to the idea of the Neshamah K’lalit in Hasidism?

NM-Y: Neshamah K’lalit means ‘aggregate’ or ‘general soul.’ We can look at this in two ways: From one perspective, the rebbe, or spiritual master, is a ‘general soul.’ What makes that person a general soul? The fact that they can address the needs of many different souls. It’s as if they are a universal plug—lots of people can come and plug into them and receive what they need. People that can only relate to one type of person are not general souls. Those who cannot find compassion for a broad group of people cannot be spiritual leaders. One can be very smart, a spiritual genius or a great spiritual practitioner, and still not be a Neshamah K’lalit or general soul. So, that’s the Neshamah K’lalit as an individual.

But the Neshamah K’lalit is also understood as an ‘aggregate soul,’ made up of many parts, many people sharing a greater soul. Imagine a crowd of people standing in a circle in a small room, all of them reaching one arm toward the center. The part of each person that is reaching for the center is part of an aggregate soul, reaching for the same thing—the center. Each person remains an individual, but they are all connected by their desire for the ‘center.’

“Barack Obama’s 1st Inauguration.” David Friedman, 2008.

“Barack Obama’s 1st Inauguration.” David Friedman, 2008.

Now, the leader of the group, the ‘general soul,’ is often symbolic of the group itself and its center, but is not actually the center. The leader is only functioning to form connections for the group. Think of it this way . . . During the 2008 presidential campaign, Barack Obama was going around the country, from city to city, saying—“Yes we can!” And everywhere he went, in every place he got other people to say that with him, he was actually building that We. That is to say, all the people who invested in that idea became that We. Unfortunately, many people forgot the message—“Yes we can!”—while staring at the messenger, and thus were disappointed when he wasn’t able to do it all alone.

He was the symbol and the one who helped to create the connections. That is the function of the spiritual leader; but if we forget that a person in this position is just the symbol and facilitator, we are often disappointed with what has not been achieved.

AM: I know you are very familiar with the metaphor of the ‘Geologist of the Soul’; can you tell me what this means to you?

NM-Y: I have always loved this mashal, this ‘analogy,’ which my teacher, Reb Zalman heard directly from his own rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the seventh Lubavitcher Rebbe.

Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the 7th Lubavitcher Rebbe.

Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the 7th Lubavitcher Rebbe.

First of all, when the Rebbe was challenged with the question, “What is a rebbe good for?” He says, “I can’t speak about myself; but I’ll talk about my own rebbe,” Rabbi Yosef Yitzhak Schneersohn, the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe. Then he goes on to tell us that a rebbe can help you locate what is most precious inside you—“gold, and silver, and diamonds.” And in as much as they do that, they are valuable to you. But they are not themselves the focus; they are helping you to find the focus, which is the Divinity within you.

This is really the model and the metaphor for spiritual leadership that we need to use in the emerging paradigm. We need to look at our spiritual teachers from this perspective: in as much as they help me find that inner treasure, that thing that is most precious within me, they are serving their purpose and fulfilling their function; but they are not the focus of the spiritual path. The goal of the spiritual path is not to make an idol out of the spiritual guide, nor is it to become a spiritual leader or guide. That is a vocation and a function. The goal is the inner discovery of Divinity! Not everybody is a general soul in this way, nor do they need to be. It’s a job, and not always a pleasant one. The guide is a mirror.

AM: How does the spiritual guide, the ‘Geologist of the Soul,’ get to know where this ‘gold’ is?

NM-Y: That’s a really important question. The “Geologist of the Soul,” like any good geologist, has to have studied and spent time in the ‘lab,’ and most importantly, done their own ‘field-work.’ The Geologist of the Soul draws upon both knowledge and intuition in the context of experience to say where the ‘gold’ is. The geologist knows because they have been there, because they have actually found some of that precious treasure.

But I also want to say that it’s not good for a spiritual guide to rest on their laurels. It’s easy to get distracted by the vocation and its demands, to get caught up in the role and identifying with the role. That’s why I was so delighted when I first learned Sheikh Shahab ad-Din Suhrawardi’s guidance on being a Sufi sheikh. It says nothing of status; it is all about responsibility. And among the sheikh’s chief responsibilities is to keep up with and maintain his or her own spiritual practice.

It’s very easy to get distracted from those practices when you’re leading others. Often, it’s unavoidable. Leading others does distract you from doing that work, and sometimes you even want to escape so that you can do it. But if it ever becomes an excuse, then you’ve got a problem to deal with. You have to keep trying to cultivate your own spiritual life. That’s the burden our master Suhrawardi lays on us . . . You can’t quit trying; because these are the terms of your empowerment, and that’s very important.

AM: So the ‘Geologist of the Soul’ has to have both deep experience and a continuing commitment to cultivating more experience.

NM-Y: The Geologist of the Soul has to be mature and experienced enough, to be deeply connected enough to be able to witness to how the spiritual path tends to work. They have to have had experiences that they can speak to, that are regular enough that they can be conveyed in principle to another with the words: “Here’s what to look for . . . Here’s how you will trick yourself . . . I’ve been around that corner myself; here’s what you’re likely to find.”

AM: Do degrees of spiritual experience and depth make a difference?

NM-Y: The more mature the practitioner, the more experience they have, the more they can say. The less mature, the less experience, the less they can say. Nevertheless, they still may be able to say something, and that too is helpful. Anybody who has more experience than you, and with whom you have a good connection, can give you some good advice. Every mentor or guide doesn’t have to be a master on the 20th plane. But the connection needs to be good, and there does needs to be a respect for the laws of gravitation, meaning that there is an attraction between the two of you, and just as with gravity, some things have to come down.

AM: You mean there is a necessary element of hierarchy?

NM-Y: It’s just gravity. Let me tell you one of my favorite Hasidic anecdotes . . . It’s about a Hasidic master named Reb Moshe of Kobrin. One day, he’s out for a walk in the woods and runs into one of his old schoolfellows. His old buddy stops him and says, “Oh, Reb Moshe! It’s so good to see you! I heard that you’re a rebbe now?” Reb Moshe shrugs his shoulders. His friend says: “I want to ask you a serious question. At this point in my life, I need to make some changes. My life is not where I would like it to be, and I’ve heard how you help people now. The problem is, I remember what you were like as a kid. I remember the things you did—the things we did together! So what I need to know is this: what do I need to believe about you in order to have the benefit of your guidance?”

As Jesus says, “A prophet is not without honor except in their own land.” Because people remember what you were like as a kid—maybe you were not very confident, or maybe you were a bully or a prankster. So this guy knows Reb Moshe’s past and asks a very intelligent question. He is saying: “I have memories of these things, and I’m not going to lose them so easily. When I look at you, I’m going to remember what you used to do. And yet, I also believe that maybe you’ve changed, because people come to you for help and seem helped by you. And now I need some help. So what do I need to believe about you in order to get that help?”

Reb Moshe shakes his head for a moment, thinking. He looks around and sees a tree stump, walks over to it and hops up on it, saying: “This is as much as you need to believe. You don’t need to believe that I’m sitting on top of that tall tree over there, surveying the landscape for miles around. But you do have to believe that I’m at least on top of this tree stump, just a foot or two higher than you; because, from up here, I can see just a little farther. And that’s enough to help.”

AM: From there he can offer just a little more perspective.

NM-Y: I think it’s really a great way to look at spiritual leadership. If we are walking down the street, and I’m walking just ahead of you, and turn a corner before you, I’m in a position to tell you what’s around that corner. It’s as simple as that.

There are all kinds of mentors available to us, and that’s as much as we need to believe about them. We don’t have to make idols out of them. In some ways, making idols out of them renders them useless to us as accessible models. It leads us to believe we can never reach their level. And we tend to give away responsibility to them. After all, they look so high—and we help build them up so high—that we know we can never get there ourselves . . . and we stop trying. We say, “Oh, he’ll do the work for me,” or “she’ll do the work for me.” Or, the other problem is that we want to be on top of the tree and have some sort of status or identity built around that. The tree stump model is much more useful, and most of the time, just truer. . . . Amen.

Accessible Subtlety: A Review of the Path of Centering Prayer by David Frenette

By Netanel Miles-Yépez

"The Cloud of Unknowing" by Netanel Miles-Yepez

"The Cloud of Unknowing" by Netanel Miles-Yepez

For almost 40 years now, that great Trappist triumvirate from St. Joseph’s Abbey in Spenser, Massachusetts—Father Thomas Keating, the late Father Basil Pennington, and Father William Meninger—have been teaching the practice of Centering Prayer (which Meninger, the one-time retreat master there, revived from indications in the anonymous mystical classic, The Cloud of Unknowing). At first, it was taught only to their brethren in the monastery and to retreatants who wished to practice a Christian form of meditation; but, by the mid-1980s, the three ‘fathers’ were taking it out of the monastery and teaching it to the larger community of Catholic and Protestant Christians around the world.

Brilliant teachers all, they have each written popular books, looking at Centering Prayer from different angles, creating the verba seniorum, the ‘sayings of the fathers,’ of Centering Prayer. But what will happen when these men, ordained by the Church, with their aura of monastic authority, are all gone? Will there be enough stability and strength among the lay leaders of the Centering Prayer movement to hold the lineage of practice together? These are questions I have asked myself in recent years. For it seemed to me, that until the ‘children,’ the leaders of the next generation, began to create their own body of teaching and commentary on the practice, the establishment of a long-term tradition and lineage of Centering Prayer was in doubt.

Thus, I was delighted to hear that David Frenette (one of Father Thomas Keating’s most senior students and an important teacher for Contemplative Outreach), whom I have known in a casual way for a number of years, had finally come out with The Path of Centering Prayer: Deepening Your Experience of God (Sounds True, 2012). I have long had a sense that Frenette was somehow carrying the practice of Centering Prayer out of the monastic context in a very authentic way, in a way that manages to preserve the more important structures of the contemplative life. But it wasn’t until I had read his book that I knew this for sure. In The Path of Centering Prayer, Frenette’s mature understanding of the practice and humble authenticity come across on every page, and in the end, he accomplishes what none of his predecessors has been able to do, convincingly—give believable expression to the contemplative life as it is lived in the world outside of the monastery.

The sixteen chapters of the book are divided into two parts, the first giving increasingly subtle and nuanced instruction in Centering Prayer, and the second discussing different “contemplative attitudes.” The two parts of the book are meant to compliment one another, so that if the reader becomes “overburdened by instructions,” he or she may flip to Part II and dip into its more expansive reflections. But, in my opinion, it is the subtlety of instruction in Part I that really sets the book apart. For, although it is still accessible enough to be used by beginners in Centering Prayer, its insights clearly reflect the extremely subtle understanding of an experienced meditator who also wishes to guide his students through the deeper levels of awareness only accessible through the practice. Frenette gives the reader instruction he or she can ‘grow into’ over many years of practice, returning to the book whenever necessary for new understanding. Thus, The Path of Centering Prayer is also a ‘second level’ manual of spiritual practice (a rarity in today’s market which seems almost entirely comprised of ‘beginner books’). But it is precisely the book’s multi-leveled accessibility to beginners and experienced practitioners alike, to professional religious and laity, that will help to ground and sustain Centering Prayer as a tradition of living practice for many years to come.

The Ripening of Repentance

Keith T. Phillips

Truly Your faithfulness is better than life;

My lips declare Your praise.

I bless You all my life; 

I lift up my hands, invoking Your name.

— Psalms 63:4-5

 

The psalm appointed is truly a song from a joyful, thankful soul; one that is in near union with its God. Wonderfully does the Psalm express liberation from troubles, suffering, sin—while keeping in mind whence it has come; from the horror of sin to redemption. The psalm may well be one of delight after years of prayer, for the soul undergoes much purgation throughout those years in prayer. It expresses the resounding gratitude and surrender of repentance. It is the gift from a soul God deems a friend for its redemption. The soul of Moses.

We know the classical steps in repentance:

In remorse, we live a deep and sincere regret for one's act. An unequivocal expression, quite naked, of the acute knowledge of the pain and suffering one has caused; an expression that is forgetful of self.

In confession we give an unfettered admission of one's actions in the offense; an admission which does not seek to blame—or excuse or minimize. Neither does it attempt to recast one's self-image. It is a clear statement of responsibility.

In turning away from and forsaking those sins, the soul now enters the more refined, difficult stage. This turning away and forsaking requires both self-knowledge—which is often painful to encounter and accept—and determination to reform.

To see oneself as one is seen and known, and not step back from that harsh reality is essential now. We often falter because we find how dependent we have become on the 'old self'; how central to our false self is the structure which enabled the sin. A great deal of trust (perhaps new to us), in abiding this solitary pain, has to be endured in this darkness. Slowly, we learn the dimension of faith and hope leading to renewal. There is a seeming endless grinding of time before we ‘discover’ we have been, all along, held and fed by the love of God. We understand, now, how blinded we were in our sin, how much we needed to embrace repentance.

Then we heartily pledge never to sin again. This pledge becomes a sort of living thing, for in order for repentance to be 'complete' we (joyfully) expend all our strength to living our resolve, in prolonged deep thought of and an abiding in the good God has given and continues to give, and a belief that repentance brings healing to our character (thinking, belief, attitude) and is a means of remedying our evil deeds.

We are not told anything about this process in Moses. It is clearly implied, for only in thorough repentance is he now open to the encounter with the burning bush (Exodus 3:1-15). Moses could not proclaim this song were it not so . . .

Perhaps we have lived, experienced a wretchedness like Moses' after he flees to Midian. We know it encompasses a long period of time—the self-blame, recrimination stalls repentance; refuses to receive God's love. Moses survives. He struggles, though, to leave aside his lingering hubris.His prayer can only be: "The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit; a broken and contrite heart, 0 God, you will not despise" (Ps. 51). In waiting for God, he lives with his inner chaos.

In the chasm separating the murder and the burning bush, we see the profound reach and effects of sin . . . and the labor of repentance.

In his book, Wanderings, Chaim Potok offers a powerful and insightful reflection on Moses: 

"In a single moment of uncontrollable rage, he not only took a life—and no matter how cruel that Egyptian might have been, the prince Moses could have had no justification in slaying him—but he also threw away his entire future with the royal household." (I would also add he was further alienated from his own people.) "Further," Potok writes, "not once during his stay among the Midianites does he engage in combat, join the men in skirmishing with other tribes, do anything [emphasis added] that reminds us of his prior military training, his ability to kill . . . all he appears to do . . . is wander the wilderness tending the flock . . . it is women and children who regularly see to the flocks; the men are warriors."

Moses flees into the desert in self-exile. Without standing or family or clan, this is surely a death sentence equal to Pharoah's decree. From the well—representing the deep symbolism of water—he is invited to break bread in the priest Jethro's tent. We do not know the content of the exchange that would have taken place, but Moses remains.Seemingly, Jethro asks nothing of Moses. Did Jethro perceive Moses' anguish, his suffering? What did he read in the inward gaze, the faraway look in his guest's eyes? How did he perceive the woodenness of affect and deportment? Moses could offer this clan little or nothing, yet he comes under Jethro's protection, becomes his son-in-law . . .

Rabbi Potok continues: ". . . then the horror of the murder deepens into an endless nightmare of the soul. The killing was senseless . . . a man whose mind is clouded with a miasma of such nightmarish misgiving, cannot be a warrior, cannot kill [again] [emphasis added]. He can only tend flocks . . ."

To be rendered so useless, so ineffective, so full of self-reproach is a harrowing, seemingly unending existence. Even the ability to speak, to have a voice, disappears.

Rabbi Potok again: ". . . a man will perform a sudden unthinking act of heroism or horror, and then spend much of his life in an effort to penetrate into himself and search out the hidden source of his deed.Often there is no source other than the irrationality that is the underground ocean which our species floats [an appeal to abuse or history or provocation is essentially empty, a delay, for they merely fend off—ineffectually—the reality of inquiry]" . . . on occasion he will discover feelings and ideas buried deep within himself, frightening ideas, for they are at odds with everything he has been taught to hold dear [emphasis added]—and yet somehow they seem to him burning and blinding with truth—and he will try to see the shape of them, but they may yet be without form though he senses their power and is alternately attracted and repelled by their luminescence. Then he will haul them out of himself and stare at them in fear and astonishment—as does Moses now in the wilderness." At this point, Jesus' Parable of the Fig Tree (Matt. 21:18-22; Mark 11:12-25) is seen with power: at the moment the fig tree is about to be discarded as useless,unproductive, the Gardener begins His work, the work that is the core of repentance.

Other ideas, too, can be seen—the ones of redemption. Of equal power, awe, wonder. In the chaos, then, there are the seeds of order,creation. When, from the depths of our repentance we cry out, "My God,my God, where are You?" God answers, cultivating our repentance to produce a human being of worth; a human being able to love—and receive love-again. God's unceasing act of creation from all eternity enters once again the temporal.

Repentance is multi-layered, it calls for deep introspection and longing, a cooperative endeavor with God. It is a gift from God; under the tender care of the Gardener it yields proper fruit. And we can sing our Psalm from our heart and soul . . .

Saracen Chivalry by Pir Zia Inayat-Khan

By Netanel Miles-Yépez

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When I was in my late teens and first learned the tale of Parzival, as told by the venerable Wolfram von Eshenbach, and witnessed in my mind’s eye the initial encounter between this  famous Arthurian knight and his brother, the Saracen knight, Feirefiz, I was fascinated with the idea of such a meeting. I wondered: What code of chivalry must this Saracen know? How is a Muslim knight instructed in the ways of honor? Then, not long ago, I learned that Pir Zia Inayat-Khan, the son of Pir Vilayat Inayat-Khan and head of the Sufi Order, had just published a new book called Saracen Chivalry, and my mind immediately flashed back to that early image of Feirefiz, who accompanies Parzival to the Grail Castle, and I wondered: Was he perhaps a Sufi? To my astonishment, I soon learned that this was precisely the question Pir Zia had answered, giving us the book of counsels on chivalry originally given to the Saracen knight Feirefiz by his mother before he embarked on his journey!

But perhaps a little background is necessary. In the Parzival story, a Christian knight, Gahmuret, goes in search of adventure in the Holy Land and eventually enters the service of the caliph of Baghdad. Later, he wins the love of the “Black Queen of Zazamanc,” Belacane, and marries her. But the desire for adventure is still upon him and he eventually leaves her and returns home, where he marries another woman, Herzeloyde, and has a son named Parzival. Meanwhile, back in Zazamanc, he has also left Queen Belacane with a son, Feirefiz, who will one day go in search of his father.

This is what we know from the Parzival tale of Wolfram von Eshenbach. But Pir Zia tells us that, without his father to raise him, and knowing that Feirefiz would one day want to go in search of his father, Queen Belacane is left to instruct her son in the ways of chivalry, in the knowledge he would need to meet the adventure of life and not be found wanting. Thus, Saracen Chivalry: Counsels on Valor, Generosity and the Mystical Quest, is her testament to her son, the knight Feirefiz, to guide him on his journey through life.

It is a timely book. For today, as much as any other spiritual teaching, we need to talk about chivalry, about a sacred code of honor which can help to orient us through life. Having lost so many certainties, having witnessed the breakdown of so many culturally-determined values, we need to find new values of global import, universal principles that can help us create a new order of Saheba-e-Safa, ‘knights of purity,’ as spoken of by Pir Zia’s grandfather, Hazrat Inayat Khan, who first brought Sufism to the West. Thus I have asked Pir Zia to share a few excerpts of his book, Saracen Chivalry, with us here:

“On Pilgrimage”

To reach Mecca from Zazamanc a pilgrim must cross the Red Sea. She will reach her destination if her ship stays above water. The inner pilgrimage is different. To attain the House of the Merciful you must suffer the calamity of shipwreck. Your boat, your worldly self, must be capsized, broken to splinters, and sucked into the whirlpool. You must drink the ocean down to its briny dregs. You must plunge into the abyss and wash up gasping on the other side.

The other side is the Holy House that every pilgrim seeks, be she Sabian, Jew, Christian, or Moslem. Here all are gathered, and all stand equal before the Lord. Outer distinctions are abolished; the throng is draped in white. Everywhere is heard the cry, “At your service!”

In the House of the Merciful, time slows to a standstill. Past and future are nothing; the present is all. Space rolls up like a scroll. Everything that was, is, and ever shall be—every star and tree and cloud and idea—confesses the evanescence of its form. So confessing, with shattering delicacy it unveils the eternity of its essence. From the first to the last of the centillion and one things, that essence is pure being, the boundless shining forth of the One.


“On the Greater Struggle”

When Adam and Hawwa dwelled in the garden, God the Most High was always before their eyes. Yet they were not dazzled; their hearts were not pierced. Strangers to darkness, they could not know the meaning of light. And so the Creator ordained exile, condemning them to the desolation of banishment that they might one day taste the elation of homecoming. What is to come is better for you than what has gone before. From oneness they fell into manyness, from union into separation. They lost the garden of being and found themselves in the jungle of becoming. 

Knowledge of the world is the fruit that led man into the jungle and love of God is the fruit that ushers him back into the garden. It was Iblis’ duty to proffer the fruit of knowledge and it is the Messenger’s task to extend the fruit of love. Love’s fruit is like no other. At first it is sweet, then bitter, and finally bittersweet. It is poisonous, but also good medicine. The one who eats of it will suffer the agonies of death, but in time she will rise again more living than before. She will die to herself and rise again in the Real.

Eat the fruit of God’s love, my son, and return to his garden. Breathe the weather of the season of the rose. The names of the Most High are seeds. When they quicken in your inner ground, watered by worship and sunned by faith, the garden will spring to life in you. Like a bud, your heart will open, petal by petal, giving forth a ruby light and a heady attar. In your right breast you will then feel a flutter, and—lo!—another blossom, a white flower, more diaphanous than the last, a gossamer bloom of spectral beauty. When you inhale its delicate scent you will know it to be the essence of purity. To the commanding and blaming selves it is a somnolent drug. Let the antagonists sleep, and the tranquil self will awaken. A bud will now open in the middle of your chest. Its light is gold and green. As its petals tear apart, your primal nature will show itself. Summer will arrive in the garden. In your forehead and crown, in your belly and tailbone, in the palms of your hands and the soles of your feet, blossoms will unfurl. Your flesh will become fertile soil, your veins limpid streams. Butterflies will glide on the breeze of your breath. 

When all is in bloom, all a riot of color and fragrance, from the tongue of every flower will come these words, and you will know that you have come home:

O you tranquil self,

Return to your Lord, well-pleased and well-pleasing!

Enter then among my votaries,

Enter then my garden!


“On Justice”

Ambition knows no restraint. It seizes every advantage, caring nothing for honor and less for the protestations of the downfallen on whose backs it blithely treads. The law of self-interest, ruthlessly applied, can speed an egoist an untold distance on the path of power and privilege. Meanwhile the chivalrous youth lags distantly behind, murmuring at each bottleneck in the lane, “After you...”  

But the wicked will not always flourish, nor will the good always languish. As ‘Isa, peace be upon him, has foretold, “The first shall be last and the last first.”

If in this world vice gains glory and virtue earns nothing but hardship, in the next world the tables will be turned. The mightiest tyrant will discover himself a lowly suppliant of God’s forgiveness, while the poorest of his subjects—those, leastways, that were true to the truth—will be laurelled with the fragrant benedictions of paradise.

My son, keep the Day of Judgment always before your mind’s eye. On that day, everything will be made clear and nothing will remain hidden. There will be no room for pretense on the day their tongues and hands and feet bear witness to what they had done. 

Therefore, be patient. Strive continuously for justice, but know that the justice that earth cannot supply, heaven will provide. When someone offends against you, do not take offense. If he has acted unjustly it is he who will be called to account in the Sequel, not you. The injustice he has done is to his own self. So long as you guard your innocence you cannot be harmed. Yes, your worldly affairs may be impeded. You may even be injured bodily—even to the point of death. But if you have kept God’s pleasure, you will have lost nothing that cannot be honorably lost.

The wise Diyujanis* was once informed that a man had sworn to kill him. His only comment was, “It will do him more harm than it will me.”

Do not brood over the wrongs that have been done to you, nor seek the cold solace of revenge. Pray, instead, for the souls who wrong themselves by wronging you. They stand in need of your prayers.


*AKA Diogenes