The Mundane Way

This post is a reflection on the article " The Need for a Teacher ," by Eknath Easwaran. What struck me most in Easwaran's article is his injunction to go slow and to allow my body, mind and will to develop the strength and resiliency necessary to continue to progress on the spiritual path, even as the challenges increase. I tend to be impatient with the pace of my progress, so I’m grateful for Easwaran’s reminder that trying to force or rush spiritual growth is dangerous. In practice, going slow might mean taking incremental steps in, for example, training the  senses. Rather than giving up coffee  altogether, for instance, I might try drinking a bit  less than I’m used to. Or, for an even smaller but still effective experiment, I could  choose a different mug, leaving my preferred one in the cupboard for another day. I have  tried both of these options recently, and have found I was able to loosen up my  preferences just a bit. As Easwaran teaches, juggling my

Jesus is as inscrutable as any enlightened sage. Indeed, he is as inscrutable as God himself. As he says in  John’s gospel, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit” (3:8). The Buddha says something remarkably similar in the Dhammapada: “Like the flight of birds in the sky, the path of the selfless is hard to follow” (7:92). And the Hebrew prophet Isaiah says plainly, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (55:8-9). Any attempt to explain the whole of Jesus, as unavoidable as such explanations may seem to the religiously minded (among whom I count myself), is doomed from the start. You might as well try to explain a squirrel, or a beech tree, or a raindrop. And yet the difference between Jesu

I read last night that Easwaran ’s devotion to his own spiritual teacher, his grandmother, led him later in life to a devotion to Sri Krishna, the divine incarnation his grandmother worshiped. He described the process as a kind of inheritance his grandmother passed on to him through her own devotion to Krishna. I find hope in this, since I have not felt much devotion to the great incarnations (Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, etc.) but am beginning to feel a flicker of devotion to Easwaran himself. I think I’ve felt hesitant to devote myself to a teacher so contemporary and down-to-earth as Easwaran, but obviously neither of those qualities precludes deep spiritual awareness. Another reason for my hesitance to allow myself to become a devotee of Easwaran is that he himself encouraged his students to direct their ardor toward one of the classic divine figures. Lastly, and this may be the heart of it, it just feels wrong to express religious devotion to any being other than a “recognized” incarna

“Live in the present. Do the things that need to be done. Do all the good you can each day. The future will unfold.” Peace Pilgrim I often get to feeling dissatisfied and wistful, wishing I could give more of my time and resources to “important” work--serving the homeless or other marginalized people, agitating for changes in America’s climate policy, or some other CAUSE. These are not necessarily wrong desires, and in fact if I hold them lightly and humbly they may grow into helpful actions. But even if they did, that wouldn’t necessarily mean I had experienced any lasting inner change. I could give every minute to helping the homeless or the sick and still be fearful and angry. In that case, in spite of my outward actions I would still be adding to the world’s suffering. The far more difficult and less glamorous work of inner growth can be undertaken in almost any circumstance, and if my desire to relieve suffering is true, I will try every day to chip off a little more of my sel

The other day at a 12-Step meeting I heard someone say that for him God was like a radio signal, ever-present and available to anyone ready to receive him. He said his job was to “always be building a better antenna.” This concept of God works for me on at least a couple levels. First: God is ever-present but not always perceived. Yes, God is everywhere, but that doesn’t mean I will necessarily encounter him. I must prepare myself for the encounter (build a better antenna) through prayer and mediation, service, silence, and anything else that bucks my self-will. Second: radio waves are transmitted from somewhere. For the spiritual seeker, the counterparts to the giant transmission towers are the world’s saints and sages. Through their wisdom and deep insight, these luminous figures transmit the sometimes elusive meaning of the scriptures as well as their own intimate experience of the mystery of God. When we read and reflect on their lives, we point our antennas toward the source o

“...stay alert and attentive to the way you are progressing in your vocation.” The Cloud of Unknowing Do I consider the spiritual life to be my vocation? If not, why not? It is certainly the most important work I do in my daily life, and my success in that work bears directly on my success in all other areas of living. How do I know if I am progressing in this vocation? Eknath Easwaran says plainly that the measure of spiritual success is growth in love. Not psychic visions, or healing powers, or material wealth, or anything else but an increasing desire and ability to consider and work for the welfare of all in my every act and thought. Maybe no one has stated this truth more eloquently than St. Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians: “And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” How do I know if I am growing in love? That’s a question worth sitting w

I heard a short sermon once in which the preacher said something to the effect that eternal life was equivalent to knowing God. It brought to mind what John says in his first epistle to the early Christian church: the proof that we know God is that we love, and love of God is best demonstrated in love for others (I John 4:7-12; 19-21). My takeaway from all this was: eternal life = knowing God = loving God = loving others. I wrote the preacher after the service to share my thoughts. He agreed with my equation and added an important caveat. Since we are all of us creatures of our culture, he said, we tend to understand love the way our culture presents it, which doesn’t necessarily jibe with the reality of the divine love that Jesus--or, I would add, the Buddha, or Sri Ramakrishna, or Swami Ramdas, or Peace Pilgrim--embodied. Because of these competing and often contradictory concepts of love, it is essential that we maintain a healthy self-criticism and not blithely assume that what w