Version: October 10, 2004
As the days hurry by during this last year of the 1900s, it seems to be increasingly difficult to live in the Center of our beings. The paradox of Life seems to be tearing us apart. On the one hand there is violence, war, famine, cruelty and indifference; on the other, there is compassion, neighbors helping neighbors, grass roots mobilization to help others who have lost everything, empathy, sympathy, and growing new resolve to find ways to live with each other in nurturing relationships.
Behind this there is the insistent note of Spring in the northern hemisphere, calling for the upwelling creative forces of Nature that cannot be denied. No matter how insulated we are from these forces in our air-conditioned offices and homes, we are still a part of this upwelling and must express it in our daily lives.
Every warm smile, comforting hug, understanding eye contact, or word of encouragement or sympathy is an expression of these creative forces and keeps us in tune with every aspect of the Universe. As we honor the indwelling Spirit in every thing and every one around us every day, we help to make the world a better place. There is no middle ground - we either choose to help or to hinder the process of bringing peace to our world.
- Eleanor L. Shumway
Guardian in Chief
The golden threads that bind all human hearts,
That pass from land to land, from world to world,
Invisible, except to eyes of faith,
Inaudible to all but those whose ears
Are tuned to catch the cosmic harmonies,
Unbreakable as life itself;
These are the deeds of loving kindliness,
Of faith and courage, hope and strong resolve,
That reproduce themselves in loving hearts
And give a glory to our brotherhood.
- Agnes Varian
Recently two of our brothers died and, in my own life, I recently lost a friend at work and a relative. These events prompt me once again to consider the meaning and purpose of death. We think that we will never get to see those who have died again. The shared memories, especially the last encounter with them, seem to loom up before us as a specter that will not move aside. All this is in direct proportion to the degree of mutual love and shared experiences. Sometimes I wonder, "Do I miss what I thought they were? What did we know about them?" Probably very little.
We are social creatures. We define and know ourselves by our work, the people we love, and something we are looking forward to. That's a rough quote from Dr. Gerber.
As we get older, those who have passed on occupy an increasingly larger space in our consciousness. There is a common reaction to the news of a newly departed friend: silence, stillness, and a cold fear envelopes us for a moment. It can take lots of adjustment, especially when it comes too soon for us. We wonder why we didn't see it coming, since, in retrospect, there were the telltale signs and we did not want to face the moment, yet this cycle is repeated over and over.
Why contemplate death? The things that frighten us are the very same things that remind us of death. If we are afraid of it, then we must be afraid of something in life. If we are not afraid of dying, then how can we have any great fear or anxiety? Death is very certain, so ultimately close to us that it is easy to just push it aside. Death is the one and only absolute certainty and we avoid it until confronted with it. Fear and superstition fill in the void that separates us from the realization of the true meaning of death, even if we believe in life after death. I think this fear was best described by Woody Allen in one of his movies: "It's not that I'm afraid to die, I just don't want to be there when it happens."
Mark Twain talked about how everyone says how hard it is that we have to die, and he comments, "That is a very strange complaint to come from the mouths of people who have had to live." When someone dies, part of us dies also. We then have to close a door in our consciousness in order to resolve and settle the account we had with them, so that not only can we go on without them, but also so they can leave us and go on.
Something comes in before the door is allowed to shut, something like a fine scent or delicate color that is the quintessence of our departed friend, but only if we let them go. We now know something new that was impossible to know when our friend was alive. After this experience, he or she takes on a new appearance in our consciousness that seems clearer, and remains with us throughout life.
Almost all religions profess belief in a post-mortem existence for the departed soul, but few address its existence before birth and some even deny its pre-existence.
Question: If eternity embraces the endless future, how can the past be denied?
The whole basis of Theosophy rests on two simple tenets. Man, the thinker, is a spiritual being, and everything else has spirit as its root cause, without exception. Manifestation is, fundamentally, from within outward in all dimensions, even though there is a constant flow back and forth from the center to the perimeter of life. I think the best image that comes to my mind to symbolize this concept is the image of the double helix, rotating.
Now, to say someone is dead is to imply that we are alive. As silly as that sounds, it suggest another question: alive to what or to whom? Are we not dead to those who died? We live an existence of relativity - of shadows and light, hot and cold, hate and love. I remember the day when I was talking with Harold, probably 13 or 14 years ago, when I told him I realized that I'm living in my own little world. He looked at me, clicked his tongue and said, "Now you're getting somewhere." And that was the end of that discussion.
We hesitate to tell each other our real fears and pains, and the result is that we're not even aware of some of them. We have to question life so we can truly ponder death. Life and death can be considered as two aspects to one reality, or two phases of one and the very same thing. They are not separate. The Bhagavad Gita, throughout the entire book, tells us that we must lose all attachment to results. But this is impossible when we think that the physical world is all there is. We easily get caught up in it, become attached to it, and lose sight of the purpose of our human life.
Question: When we face death, can we do more than just die?
What do we know about human existence after death? I found a web site about a person by the name of Apollonius, who lived about two thousand years ago, who has just lately been discovered. Here's a quote from fragments of his writings: "The change from being to becoming seems to be birth and the change from becoming to being seems to be death. But, in reality, no one is ever born nor does anyone ever die. It is simply a being visible and then invisible - the former through the density of matter, and the latter because of the subtlety of being. Being is ever the same, its only change being motion and rest. Thought goes on after the brain dies because mind uses its vehicle, the brain, to explore an experience. The death of the brain does not end the momentum of thought. Death releases the mind from the limitations of the brain and body to soar beyond the physical and to continue to exist in different dimensions."
Many believe after death that we are changed in an instant and experience great peace and beauty. Surely this has happened, but why do we generalize? Why would a soul who is no longer bound to the physical change in the least upon its entrance to the next dimension, the plane called the Astral by Theosophists? Would not our consciousness be continuous with a gradual realization of a new and slightly changed landscape? Wouldn't it, itself, remain unchanged?
Some believe in death because they simply believe that their thoughts, emotions, and even aspirations die as soon as they recede from their momentary consciousness of them. They don't own them and take responsibility for them. But those who believe in life must believe in its ultimate sense, knowing that everything else is also alive. Therefore, all the material in our bodies - our blood, for instance - has a lesser consciousness. The bits of our higher consciousness - our thoughts, our emotions, especially our lofty ideals - do not necessarily die with the demise of the physical. They in themselves, with their own little consciousness, want to live; they have a momentum and inertia that cannot be stopped by mere physical death.
There are two broad categories of death: natural and accidental. Natural would be the wearing out of the body in its appointed time. This would include all the diseases and illnesses or whatever is necessary to get rid of the body or dissolve it at its appointed time. This is the path of least resistance in which Karma can act. If I may overgeneralize, accidental death would include all cases where the body is stopped when it could have gone on. Of course, Karma acts, but in a roundabout, less desirable way, to make the necessary adjustments.
Those who die accidental or violent deaths go to a specialized intermediate state which Theosophists call Kama Loka, remaining there until they would have died naturally. This is sort of a temporary, necessary intermediate state very similar to physical existence. All matter, all the little lives, all the little consciousnesses that compose that astral, or reflective body from whence our physical grows and lives and has its being have to live out their little lives together and associate and then die. This means that they individually go on with their own individual lives, but now they are not under our conscious or unconscious direction.
We are conscious of only one thing at a time, so in passing through the astral after death we become conscious only of the astral, but only to the degree to which we have developed that body or brain. If it is developed sufficiently, then we have a sort of personality or awareness of what's going on. In that state, we have to get rid of our old baggage: all those little lives that we have brought to our physical being. This is necessary before we can go on.
The next step is termed by Theosophists the Devachanic State. This is a subjective existence in which we experience the complete expression and the flowering of our high thoughts, our high lofty desires and aspirations, those we could not express in earth life. The propelling energy of these thoughts and aspirations must be exhausted. It's that simple. They have to go somewhere, and they are expressed in the subjective state before we can be attracted back to the earth plane. I believe thought is a vastly underrated power. We are measured by the quality of our thought, and nothing else. If we could be conscious on one or more planes of existence at will, then we would be above this illusion and would not need this experience.
Now, what is the ultimate death? In the Temple Feast Service, it is stated that to harbor hate or malice in our hearts toward another human being is to take the very real risk of destroying our soul. I've been thinking about that for 25 years. This idea stretches my imagination to the limit. How could such power exist in our fleeting personality since that soul has been building up through many existences for eons? The essence of our experiences that build up this soul are alive to the evolutionary currents. But how could we have that kind of power? Its a question I really can't answer.
What do we know about human existence before birth? Rebirth is the awakening from rest between earth lives, and its conditions result from what we made for ourselves in past lives. But this occurs only after the force of our previous thoughts is exhausted. We have essentially created ourselves to reincarnate the result of our own past. This soul is the wanderer. It develops its powers as it moves throughout the four lower planes. It is certainly way beyond the third dimension and is under the shadow of the spiritual cell. Its only purpose is to become a fit and capable vehicle for Spirit. It has taken millions of years to evolve these outer bodies. All the physical evolution from the advent of the very first cell that came to be on this planet, all the way up to the present state, is repeated. It gathers to itself all the inner and outer material, and lesser lives that it needs, and even attracts the matter from previous existences for a new act in an old play, using some old clothes, even some old clothes from our brothers and sisters.
The question is: how much of this power is realized in life? From the soul's point of view, to be born is to die, since only less than its totality, just a fragment of it, can manifest, depending on the destiny of a single, short life. Putting it another way, we lose most of our knowledge of our spiritual self. If we knew, coming in, why we're here and what we're supposed to do, we wouldn't learn a thing.
All this up to this point has been generalizations, but I think there are many exceptions to those generalizations.
This goes back to my alternate title, How Little We Know. When we die, how do we really know what happens? Consideration of this question is based on our thoughts and the quality of our thoughts. How could wicked or evil people go on any further, since they don't have any high aspirations and all they want to do is mean things, creating havoc? The only place they can go is right back here to continue to do the same thing, or prevent it from being the same thing. And what about very holy people? They're fully expressed in their lives. They assist humanity; they don't have great desires to become a great pianist or artist or anything like that. Their function is to serve. Still, when they die, there must be some time for the old astral to die and a new one to form. There are other cases of very advanced people or adepts, maybe even advanced disciples, who have learned enough that their astral has become solidified and they can use it over and over again. The number of times this can occur is in direct proportion to how far they have developed. So when they come back, they carry some knowledge, real knowledge, that their old brains knew about. Additionally, there are lots of strange cases where living people can take on other bodies and other cases about the interchange of bodies. We know nothing about that subject, but I think it's a lot more prevalent than we care to believe.
Once we arrive in Devachan, in my opinion, it's like a personal mind maze and we're lost in it. Even as high as it is, we're still trying unconsciously to get out of this maze. I believe we can get help to get out of there sooner if we have some work to do, or we can be detained if there's some evil we might inflict on humanity that might come out at the wrong time, but all this is in quite a fuzzy region, which I know nothing about. I just thought it would be worthwhile to talk about. There is also the last case, where the living aren't absolutely shut out of the astral or Devachan either. I would think that this term, Devachan, should probably be more generalized to the higher mental world, even though we call it Devachan because we're trapped in a certain consciousness of it.
Reincarnation refers to a monad, a divine spark of God, or the indivisible unit of nature. Sometimes it's thought of as undergoing the perfecting process of a spiritual being becoming Divine. This gives that Divine Being the ability to exist in all the dimensions of any definition. Maybe this is stretching the term a bit. It defines the circuit of the developing soul from the physical/astral/mental worlds until it gains mastery over that process, when it's not subject to unconscious action. As to the average man, I believe it's best to limit it to a process in which one is unconsciously compelled by nature forces to return to earth in this circuit. Even after the illusion is mastered, one may have a body for many lives afterwards. But he will never be unconscious of any moment, or be subject to the control of outside force. Still, on the other hand, we can consider ourselves as eternal because we have a soul - we are a soul occupying a body.
Is the barrier between death and life impenetrable, or does it have a few holes in it that may be traversed by one on either side of it? To demand communication would imply a power that is far beyond the average man. But that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. After-death communication is probably as old as mankind. There are many examples of this, such as sensing a presence, feeling a touch, smelling a fragrance, and many visual experiences or visions. People who are bereaved, especially, often report receiving a wide variety of physical signs from their deceased relative or friend, such as lights or lamps blinking on and off and a long series of things that go bump in the night.
Towards the end of the reception after Bob Stenquist's funeral, the lights went out. Later Chris and I determined it was only the Temple and the University Center that were affected, and we later discovered, with the repair technician, that a very large, three-wire cable had ruptured underground near the telephone pole right outside by the redwood tree. The University Center and that electrical service were built by Bob, 27 years ago. This type of failure does occur, but it happened at the end of his party. The probability of that seems a lot less than one in one hundred thousand. That's much better odds than the Lotto, but it still makes me wonder.
Is not sleep equally as mysterious as death?
Man's physical body must sleep for a certain period of time in order to recuperate its powers. So must the psychic body have its rest time in Devachan. When we wake up we find that we are the identical person that we were before the sleep began. After sleep we return to the same body. After death, we take upon ourselves a new body. So one could say that we reincarnate every day. In both cases, what occurs is the withdrawal and return of the inner entity. Death and sleep are as brother and sister. We could substitute disintegration of form for death and we might come closer to the truth, for it would involve all manifested life and forms, no matter how large or small. And disintegration of form is necessary to release the soul from its limitations to greater freedom or bondage, depending on how you look at it. The root power behind this phenomenon in all nature is what the Teachings call the Christ-Principle.
What is the ultimate life? This was said best last Easter Sunday in the two Mountain Top messages which were read. To quote a fragment of them: "It's the day of resurrection from the dead, the day when the Christ in man has brought a realization of all his pre-existences in form and of the indivisibility of the one life underlying all manifestation." "The youth is gone and, in its stead, there stands the full-grown Christ, youth and maturity in one, arm pointing upward toward greater light beyond, the light of the eternal present within the soul, man and God in one."
To our critics, I would answer: the purpose and meaning of life and death in the seemingly endless circle to the objective and subjective worlds is simply to learn to use the forces and control and use all the stuff of those worlds, which to us, in the personal sense, is just our own thoughts and emotions. This would culminate with complete thought control, continuous consciousness of self. This is the goal, the immediate goal, for all of us. Only then can we go on to higher planes and energies above thought. And to them, I would also say, it's as mysterious as tracking the journey of a single atom of gold that originates in a vein in Arizona, one hundred and fifty years ago. Once we get the power to track and find a single atom, we'll come much closer to this.
Life could be defined as a long series of deaths, since we are always moving from one experience to the next. We must die so that life will have a more perfect expression. The transitional state is called Death. From another view, life is a feast, and it is a privilege to sit at the table of life with our brothers and sisters. Through our minds and hearts, we are constantly burning and changing, for better or worse, material form which ranges from the physical to the thought world. And like a living fire, we constantly throw off emanations, the resultant flame of our own coloration, to everyone else and to all the creations below us. This change called death is the culmination of the true meaning of life. We could sum up the whole issue of death by saying that death does not exist. There is only life, life, and more life. Love and life are eternal, but we have to own our own death to truly live.
I'll leave you with a poem fragment:
- A Temple Member
The following is an article written several years ago by one of our Temple Builders, the children's department of the Temple. Rick Richard is now 19, running his own computer repair business.
Life is defined as the condition that distinguishes animals and plants from inorganic objects and dead organisms, being manifested by growth through metabolism, reproduction, and the power of adaptation to environment through changes originating internally. Life often refers to the animate existence, or term of animate existence of an individual. Life is, as man has defined it, the ability and length of time in which an organic object can grow, respond to its environment, and reproduce of its own free will.
However, I feel that the term "life" is often misused and is incorrectly defined. When the majority of people think of life, they think of human life. More than that, they think of the cursed human emotion. Few people think of nature, and even fewer think of protozoa and plankton. Rare as they are, some people think of survival of the most well adapted system when they hear the word "life."
Through my eyes, life is the force that motivates EVERY particle of matter to work together in any sort of system, all matter, from an atom (and smaller) to humans and galaxies. Since I feel that this life force affects every particle in the universe, I don't believe in death. Instead, I feel that death is a transformation from one form to many others. When the average person dies, the living relatives and friends often wish their loved one to an afterlife or eternal life of some sort. It is very clear to me that the only thing lost is the personality which is just the unique way that person processed data. At each birth, a new neuro-net with different communication pathways is created, thus defining the base for a new personality for that individual. Once the larger life force ceases and the brain deteriorates, that person is lost. Thought stops, emotion stops, and experience stops. Life, however, does not stop, but rather breaks apart and continues in "inorganic" matter.
When you think of microorganisms, you don't think of high intelligence. Still, the volvox are smart enough to realize that it is much easier to survive in a cluster that works together. This early clustering of organisms at the microscopic level shows, perhaps, the first step to development into complex organisms such as large animals and macroscopic plants. If a solar system is carefully examined, it becomes obvious that everything is held in place by gravity and other forces. Relatively simple to comprehend is the way a solar system can form and sustain itself. I feel that it may be in a similar manner that "living creatures" form from "dead" matter to create organic life where it has never existed before.
In fact, the logical reason which explains the beginning of COMPLEX life systems is probably so simple that humans have overlooked it in creating wild fantasies about gods that create and destroy matter with the flick of a finger. The fact that many religions give their god(s) human characteristics is adequate evidence to prove the human's inability to look beyond his own perception. If any higher force/being existed, it would have no need for human adaptations. I hold strong in the belief that personality and problem solving go hand in hand and are characterized by the way neurons communicate. I wonder if one day the exact way a creature solves problems can be captured and programmed into some sort of machinery to preserve a personality forever. Why anyone would want to preserve most personalities is truly beyond me, but I still wonder if it is possible. I expect many mixed reactions from those who have read this far, and I encourage philosophers and dreamers to continue wondering and questioning. I think it was said best in Journey to the Center of the Earth: "Forward, Ever Forward."
- Rick Richard
I do not like arguments. They lead into endless labyrinths and convince no one. For conviction must come from the inner consciousness absorbing a truth.
If you overcome an adversary in argument you do not convince him of any fact, save that you are better posted on your side of the subject than he is on his side; and leave him with no intention of adopting your theories, but of studying to strengthen his own that he may the better combat yours.
It is better to ask permission to state your case clearly, producing your evidence; then leave your cause to mature deliberation in the mind of your adversary.
If you have a truth, and the soil in which you desire to plant your seed is ready, he will receive it. If not, it is quite useless to argue the matter, thus setting up vibrations of antagonistic force harmful to both yourself and others.
You may say that Plato point by point combated all opposition to the theory of the Immortality of the Soul. True; yet, in all the centuries subsequent, how many have believed in the soul's immortality because of the victory of logic compared to those in whose consciousness awoke a conviction from the gentle teachings of Buddha and Jesus?
Controversy belongs chiefly to the intellectual plane, and is seldom waged for the pure spiritual uplifting of humanity.
When we have come into higher conception of brotherly love there will be no argument; for if a brother cannot perceive a truth when its evidence is stated then he is not ready.
Seeds are never beaten into the unbroken ground, but sown in the tilled soil.
- William Quan Judge
Over two hundred years ago, a young Englishman, in what was then the colony of Pennsylvania, wrote a little pamphlet called "Common Sense." His name was Tom Paine. As a person, he was neither very wise nor very good, but he was one-pointedly devoted to the service of the dignity of the human spirit. And it was his good karma to live in a cycle of great events and to play his part in them. How large a part is a matter of opinion, but it may well have been a vital one. For something in him knew one of the fundamental secrets of Occultism: the way to ensoul a thought-form, the power of what Vincent Sheean calls "the symbolic act." So printer Tom Paine poured all the intensity of his nature into a pamphlet that rudely thrust aside tradition, convention, conservatism, expediency, and simple fear - everything, in fact, but the bare actualities of the situation and the one honest conclusion to be drawn from them. Then, having built the mental form, he set out to give it life by pouring his own life into it. And soldier Tom Paine, carrying a musket and wearing what somebody thought was a uniform, joined Washington's everlastingly defeated army.
For a few months he ran away from the British with the rest of them, then holed up for the winter in a sod-roofed hovel at Valley Forge in the midst of the woebegone encampment of what no soldier in Europe would have called an army. There they spent the winter, these beaten, hopeless men and, often, their women with them, snarling at one another, stealing food from one another (when there was any), cursing Congress, defaming Washington, hating themselves, sickening, dying, deserting. But some stayed and lived, and in the spring there was food and the sun came out and there was water to wash in. Moreover, there was tough, old Von Steuben, who lined them up and drilled them while they still staggered and fell in the mud from weakness, drilled them and coaxed them and swore at them in five languages until he had them believing they were men again; until they learned to keep their heads up and their muskets clean; until they knew that the inconceivable had happened-that they could face the bayonets of the best professional soldiers in the world and drive them back.
And Washington and LaFayette were there, beaming from the saddle, and Tom Paine was there, grinning from the ranks. And at least two of those three were Master Masons, who had received the mystery teaching concerning certain of the laws of life. They knew what had happened as well as something of why it had happened and what it was for. Furthermore, they had helped in inner as well as outer ways to make it happen.
So a nation was born, as all things are born, with agony and distortion and confusion without, and the steady white fire of faith within. Masonry played a major role in holding the faith steady, for in those days its organization was a keen-edged weapon in the hands of the Lodge of Light. Later, the edge dulled, the point blunted, the inner fire passed to other vehicles.
That is the way of the inner fire. It never wavers and never dies and, by its nature, it cannot cease from furthering the evolution of humanity, step by step, point by point. Organizations come and go, are born and expand and harden and die, since that is the way of everything in form. Sometimes, they appear to be dying but, since the White Lodge still has need of them, their tangled growths are cut away and pruned back, as a grapevine is pruned, to its basic structure, so that they climb once more and bear fruit for another season. But, in the end, each must go and give place to something better fitted for other kinds of men and women. Soon the United States, and every other nation now existing, will have passed. Soon every Christian church and every Theosophical group in the world will have vanished. The exterior organization of The Temple of the People will have vanished.
To be shaken by such a thought is to demonstrate our incredible lack of common sense. What greater good can there be for any nation, any group, any individual, than to serve the ends of evolving life for a little while and then pass on? That which is at the heart of America cannot be bound. Let us hope that we Americans in this time will be great enough of heart to begin to voluntarily release that essence into a more inclusive unit, great enough to sacrifice a little of our wealth and our notions of superiority, and what legalists call our sovereignty, to the common good of mankind. If we fail to do so, we will soon find ourselves bereft of these things anyhow, and bereft of them without honor.
In like manner, but in much more subtle ways, the fire and the force and the pattern, which are the prototype and reality behind this mortal vesture we call The Temple of the People, must continue to be released to meet the needs of evolving humanity. For should we ever turn to serving and worshipping our organization as an end in itself, in that moment, we would be turning against everything the White Lodge has ever taught and against the laws of life itself. Our existence, therefore, would be brief and, once again, without honor.
This is the most elementary common sense. It has been summed up, with much besides, in a familiar sentence: "The letter killeth but the spirit giveth life." Now, what of the individual, the basic unit of nations and of occult groups? How are we to implement this creative movement of the essences? Surely by doing the duty closest at hand, the one our individual karma has put before us. We must be very sure that it is our own, that we are not deceiving ourselves and ignoring what is our own while we reach out for something else that looks easier, or perhaps, is more likely to attract the admiration and approval of others. We Americans, occult and otherwise, are very apt to do that and, consequently, we are not a happy people. No, we must be sure to find our own thing to do, which is almost certain to be the thing that comes to us to do, that we do not have to seek, that our own heart's wisdom tells us we must accept. It may well be service to another individual or to an organization.
Whatever it is, we must do it as well as we can in its outer details and we must put into it something of our own life-force, consciously willing that it join the common fund for the upliftment of all men and women everywhere. We must accept bondage of our outer vehicles in order to effect freedom for the movement of the creative spirit over the face of the waters. In so doing, whoever or whatever may be the immediate beneficiary, we are really serving the Lodge. We are giving to the Lodge the only kind of service it can use - the service of a free man or woman who knows what he or she is doing. The service of slaves is of no use to anyone; it only creates tyrants.
But the one who consciously serves all mankind in whatever he or she is doing, no matter how small, is a direct contributor to every movement for the real welfare of the race. For example, if a successful world state is achieved, whatever credit may be due to those who are in the forefront of the effort that achieves it, the real mass power and direction will have come from those silent and unknown workers who have made the sacrifices and accomplished the labor required to create the world-state in essence in their own hearts. It is the way great things are done and the only way they are done. For this is the beginning of real occultism as distinguished from theorizing and day-dreaming about occultism; it is the practice of altruism, the releasing of the force and consciousness of the Christ into the pathways of all humanity.
This is discipleship.
This is the way of gentleness and peace and the flooding ecstasy of inclusive awareness. And it is also the way of tears and blood and the agony of merciless civil war. Why? Because the first step of any man or woman upon the path is the signal for the opposing forces within that man or woman to form ranks and draw up in order of battle. And it is from the midst of such battle that the force is drawn which does the Lodge work for humanity. From unseen and unknown victories of the souls of human beings over their personalities is derived the power which makes possible even the existence of mankind upon this planet. When there is no such inner battle, when we are quite satisfied with ourselves and sure of our rectitude, busily pushing our self forward and making much ado about our rights and the respect and appreciation due us, then we are not a disciple at all; our consciousness is still seated in the animal and content to be there; our service is not to God, but to mammon.
Now, mammon is another word for greed, and greed is not so obvious and easily recognized a thing as one might imagine. It is true, greed for money is easily recognized and is not in good repute. The same may be said of greed for status, for recognition and approval and importance. These are familiar and pitiable forms of the thing. Even greed for power can often be observed by everyone but those afflicted by it. A familiar instance is the patriarch or matriarch who rules and inhibits the lives of children and grandchildren always, of course, for their good, either by a rod of iron or by a show of helplessness and dependence.
But when these greeds in their cruder forms are met and defeated by the aspiring nature, they always disguise themselves as virtues and return to take one unawares. Thus, we may find our self believing that the basest avarice, the cruelest suppression, becomes somehow ennobled when they are practiced no longer in our own personal interest but in the interest of the family, the nation, the church. We bring down dreadful karma upon ourselves by transferring greed for the things of the material world to the interest of God Himself, by proudly bearing the fruits of forbidden motives and acts to lay at His feet as an offering.
Thus greed dogs the steps of even the most sincere and aspiring of those who have undertaken to fight to the death against it. But the common sense of the matter seems to be that sincerity and aspiration are not enough; they have to be balanced by sharp discrimination and the hard courage to turn it upon one's tenderest points of self-righteousness and self-esteem. In fact, it has been suggested that one's progress in occultism may be measured by the amount of personal self-esteem one can get along without - and live.
So it is common sense to say that greed, in its many phases, from utter crassness to the most delicate subtlety, is a major enemy in the way of one who seeks to co-operate in our own evolution and thereby contribute to the evolution of all humanity. For it is the truth that all centers are one; consequently, what is accomplished in the inner sanctuary of any man or woman, takes place potentially in the corresponding center of every human being. It is the awe-inspiring power inherent in the infinitely small, the force of the atom released and conquering.
But there is another enemy of the disciple as huge and as many-faced as greed, at least in this race. It is the lower mind, unlit from above and preoccupied with creeds, dogmas, rationalizations, ideologies, fixed notions, hard and cruel and self-willed preconceptions. And this, like greed, has a way of disguising itself as spirituality.
When we choose to align ourselves with our own soul-consciousness, we declare war on what we formerly thought of as ourselves, and we face the gross and the clever and the self-willed foes of our own households. They are always there, in everyone, without exception, and to see them is not to have conquered them; it is only to realize, at last, what we have to deal with. Many go insane at that realization. The majority turn and run. A very few stand from the beginning. None are so pure that they are not shaken and sickened at first-hand knowledge of what is in themselves.
This experience comes to every man and woman sometime. For in each of us exist the great adversaries, and between those two, the self-seeker and the doctrinaire, the Christ in man is daily dragged away to the hill of crucifixion. That is the truth. And it is the common sense of discipleship that, in this thing, each man and woman must stand alone and no one will know at the end of each day how well we have fought, whether we have yelled among the killers or hung with our Master on the cross. Even without knowing we must go on, striving to overcome the currents that beset us.
What, then, is the path of discipleship? It has been often described, but nobody really knows about it from being told; it is known only by experience. Then, and only then, what one has been told takes on meaning and it is not the meaning one had expected. A little we know and that little has been touched upon. It has to do with the first steps.
In the beginning, there is a growing weariness with the struggle for personal success, with no greater issue at stake than whether we, or some other, should have such and such a position, such and such comforts and securities. And along with this weariness comes a growing assurance that there really is somehow, somewhere, a Father/Motherhood of God and a Brother/Sisterhood of Man.
Then there is the specific ideal, the conscious choice of direction, the first glimpse of the enemy and, usually, the feeling of complete inadequacy and the panic flight.
Next, there is the end of flight; there is squalor and filth and sickness and degradation, the Valley Forge of the soul. And when there is no more hope, but only endurance, the spring comes again, the weakened personal will is ready for the whiplash voice of the drillmaster whose orders have weight because he knows the game and because he asks nothing for himself.
And, finally, once more comes the test of battle. The noise deafens us, the smoke chokes us, the glittering points of advancing bayonets make our stomach muscles crawl and twitch, but we do not run. We keep our places and listen for the order. We hear it, aim at a red-and-white facing, fire, load, aim, fire, methodically as the drillmaster taught us. We are afraid, but stand aloof from our fear.
The line of bayonets is thinner now, it shakes and stops moving, it scatters and those rifles are being thrown away. The thing has happened! We, the beaten Godforsaken scarecrows, we, Emil the farmer, Hannah the weaver, Abe the haberdasher, Susan the cook, Tom the printer, have broken a charge. We will not run away again, but retreat, if we must, in good order. We are veterans. And when we march in review and our leaders smile at us from the saddle, we will grin back at them from the ranks.
- Elmer Hedin
Robert W. Stenquist passed away March 7, 1999, in a San Pedro Hospital. Bob was born in Worcester, Massachusetts, on September 7, 1915. He came to Halcyon with his mother Ebba and sister Mary Louise in 1929, attended the local schools and went on to San Jose State College. Bob joined the Army when W.W. II broke out and was sent to the University of Washington to learn Japanese, later being assigned to the Intelligence Unit and serving in the Philippines and Japan. He returned to Halcyon in 1946, married Opal Conrad, and they joined the Temple and raised their family here. Bob had a wonderful gift, a keen insight coupled with a dry sense of humor, that helped us all sort out problems in our lives. We wish him well in his new assignment.
Rick Ricardo died March 11, 1999, here in Halcyon, at the age of 63. Born April 28, 1935, in Oakland, California, Rick served after high school in the Air Force from Maine to northern Alaska. In civilian life his career was spent with Pacific Gas and Electric as a telecommunications supervisor. A long-time Theosophist, Rick came to the Temple in 1987. He was active in all facets of Temple work and served as a Temple officer and priest. He was a gifted storyteller and could be counted on to enliven every occasion with an appropriate story and a chuckle.
The gift of laughter is a wondrous thing.
Anora Scott Gibson passed away on April 17, 1999, in a local hospital, surrounded by her extended family. Born in Howpil, Switzerland, on October 5, 1905, she came to America in 1915 with her father. After her schooling and many jobs, Anora became a governess and cared for many children during her career. In 1939, she came to Halcyon to visit Ella Vogtherr, sent by a mutual friend, Phoebe Scott. She felt immediately that she had found her spiritual home. Anora came as often as she could, finally retiring here in 1975. She devoted the rest of her life to her home and garden, serving as Temple Priest and officer, and was always available to share a moment of joy or sorrow, always gently bringing one to a point of principle and truth.
The Prayer of St. Francis: Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury _ pardon; where there is doubt _ faith; where there is despair _ hope; where there is darkness _ light; where there is sadness _ joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled _ as to console; to be understood _ as to understand; to be loved _ as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Baha'i Prayer for Peace: Be generous in prosperity, and thankful in adversity. Be fair in judgment, and guarded in thy speech. Be a lamp unto those who walk in darkness, and a home to the stranger. Be eyes to the blind, and a guiding light unto the feet of the erring. Be a breath of life to the body of humankind, a dew to the soil of the human heart, and a fruit upon the tree of humility.
Native African Prayer for Peace: Almighty God, the Great Thumb we cannot evade to tie any knot; the Roaring Thunder that splits mighty trees; the all-seeing Lord up on high who sees even the footprints of an antelope on a rock mass here on Earth: You are the One who does not hesitate to respond to our call. You are the cornerstone of Peace.
Native American Prayer for Peace: O Great Spirit of our Ancestors, I raise my pipe to you, to your messengers the four winds, and to Mother Earth who provides for your children. Give us the wisdom to teach our children to love, to respect, and to be kind to each other so that they may grow with peace of mind. Let us learn to share all good things that you provide for us on this Earth.
Zoroastrian Prayer for Peace: We pray to God to eradicate all the misery in the world: that understanding triumphs over ignorance, that generosity triumphs over indifference, that trust triumphs over contempt, and that truth triumphs over falsehood.
As spring moves into summer here in Central California, we bless the rains that have brought so many things into bloom while we pull out the weeds that have also grown prolifically! For a seemingly sleepy, changeless tiny village, there are constant comings and goings and change is always in the air.
Visits to Halcyon have included Sheila Samuels from London, England, during the month of March. Barbie Clark came home from Boulder, Colorado, for a week to visit family here, joining her sister, Jenny Foremaster in the adventure of skydiving; Nils and April Thyrring with baby Bjorn came for a short visit; Sergey and Rita Moiseyev, with family, as well as Igor and Elena Pletneva-Veller with daughter Alyona and son Constantine visited during Easter and Memorial Day weekends; and Christoph Herold from Munich, Germany, spent 10 days with us in May.
Linda and Kaety Rollison went to Santa Rosa; Sandy Strohman paid a visit to her mom in Wyoming; Mary Orcutt celebrated her birthday in New York City with Mary Workman as guide; Cathy Greer came from Riverside to spend several days with us; Annie and Will Dunbar are off for five months to work in the Lodge in Sequoia National Park; during May, Susie Clark explored Canyonlands in Utah, as well as the coast of California; and Ivan Ulz spent May in New York City giving concerts and programs and arranging for the release of a new CD of songs and stories for children.
We have new residents here in Halcyon. Shirley and Rod Gibson have purchased and finally moved into the old Bailey home on Helena Street; while next door Louise Taylor and her two children have rented the Frances Campbell house. We want to extend a warm welcome to both families.
The Halcyon Store semi-annual Craft Faire was held on May 15 and 16 under sunny skies. Many talented crafters from the Central Coast exhibited their wares.
Other notes around town: Jerry Sabol's beloved canine companion, Tara, died in May. Todd Ellis, Missy Lowman and Leon Smith graduate from high school in June. Mindee Thyrring and Missy Lowman attended the Junior/Senior Prom. On April 13 an Art Class from Allan Hancock Community College enjoyed the exhibit in the University Center. Friends and visitors enjoyed an exhibit in Hiawatha Lodge of Nita Engle's watercolors and prints.
Temple groups around the world are looking forward to our 100th annual Convention, held this year July 31 through August 8.
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Temple groups: There are groups in New York City and London, England, as well as several in locations in Germany, Lithuania, Russia, and Ukraine who meet regularly to study and discuss the Temple Teachings. Anyone wishing more information about these groups can contact the Temple offices in Halcyon.
William Quan Judge Library serves Temple members, residents of Halcyon, and friends with an interest in Theosophy, or who are doing research involving some of our special collections. Our library is staffed by volunteers; hours are Mondays, 9-11 a.m. and 6-8 p.m., and Fridays, 9 a.m.-12 noon. Other hours are by appointment through the Temple office.
The University Center Gallery is open by appointment. Please call the Temple office at (805) 489-2822 for information. This year the exhibition consists of paintings by Harold E. Forgostein, fourth Guardian in Chief of the Temple. This exhibit, "The Song of Hiawatha," features 12 of the series of 24 four-by-four-foot oils depicting the life and legends of Hiawatha and the League of Six Nations, along with their working watercolor sketches. The sketches give the viewers a glimpse of the creative process Forgostein experienced as he developed the final compositions for the larger paintings. Also on display are many interesting articles and artifacts accumulated through Temple history.
The Temple Healing Service is held at 12:00 Noon each day in the Temple. All are welcome to attend. A Meditation Meeting is held in the Temple on Sunday evening from 7 to 7:30.
Study Classes under the auspices of Temple Officers and various Temple Orders are held regularly in the University Center on Tuesdays and Fridays at 5:30 p.m. Everyone is welcome to attend.
Sunday Services are held at 10:30 a.m. in the Temple. the Feast of Fulfillment (the Communion Service of the Temple) is celebrated on the first Sunday of each month. The last Sunday of each month is a prayer and meditation meeting. Other Sundays are speakers meetings. The public is cordially invited to all services.
Speakers in the Sunday services were: March 14, Anne Dunbar: The Present Moment; March 22, Sheila Samuels: A Peace that Passeth Understanding; April 11: Life and Death or How Little We Know; April 18, Willy Gommel: Of Shoes and Ships and Sealing Wax...; May 9, Eleanor Shumway: The Mother Force; May 16, Eleanor Shumway: Common Sense in Occultism, written in 1947 by Elmer Hedin; May 23, Rick London: From Fear to Love; June 13, Eleanor Shumway: Steps on the Path.
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