Voice of a Non-Dualist Christian Woman

I think I may have found an important feminine voice in the field of interfaith mysticism: Sara Grant, R.S.C.J. Look at this description of one of her books, from the University of Notre Dame Press Website:

Toward an Alternative Theology: Confessions of a Non-Dualist Christian
By Sara Grant, R.S.C.J. Introduction by Bradley J. Malkovsky

Toward an Alternative Theology: Confessions of a Non-Dualist Christian is the spiritual and intellectual autobiography of Sara Grant, a Roman Catholic Scottish nun, who, until her death in 2000, established herself as one of the leading twentieth-century figures in Indian Christian theology and the contemplative life. In this slim volume, Grant recounts her search not only for God, but for a right understanding of God, as well as for a way of rethinking Christian teachings on the mystery of God’s relation to the world that could overcome widespread popular dualisms. Appearing for the first time in the United States, this engrossing book eloquently shows how Christian theology and spirituality can be enriched by encountering the experiences and concepts of advaita. This updated edition includes a new introduction by Bradley J. Malkovsky, associate professor of comparative theology at the University of Notre Dame.

About the author: Sara Grant, R.S.C.J., was a member of the Jnana-Deepa-Vidyapeeth faculty in Pune, India and head of the Christa Prema Seva Ashram.

“This is a spiritual journey, reminding one of Augustine, Merton, or Hammarskjold . . . a perfect blend of spirituality, classical Christian and Hindu philosophy, and what contemporary theology could be.” —William Cenkner, Katharine Drexel Professor of Religion, The Catholic University of America

“Sara Grant bent her mind and heart to the theology of Sankara, whom she compares in an amazingly astute way to Thomas Aquinas in this book. Toward an Alternative Theology provides a readable and penetrating theological synthesis carried out in an interfaith atmosphere . . . It serves a great purpose to the community of philosophical theology.” —David Burrell, C.S.C., Theodore Hesburgh Professor in Philosophy and Theology, University of Notre Dame

Is anyone who is reading this blog familiar with Sara Grant? If so, please leave your comment here and/or get in touch with me via email. Thanks!

I did not kill your father… I AM your father!

So… am I the only one to see a family resemblance here?

Separated at birth?

A Conversation about Mysticism

Yesterday Google Alerts brought to my attention a new blog called Are There No More Idols? Is There No Place Left to Hide? The Time is Near! The inaugural post on this blog, by a woman named Diane, attacks Rob Bell because of his advocacy of mysticism.

Now normally when I come across an anti-mysticism blog I might spend a few minutes looking at it to see if there are any new arguments arising from that camp (I’ve yet to find anything beyond the standard anti-Catholic or anti-Eastern rhetoric, but I keep looking just in case). Typically I don’t bother to leave a comment, but because this particular blog was brand new, I felt led to voice my disagreement (I tried to be polite, although I did tell the blogger I thought her post “reveals how little you know about the authentic tradition of Christian mysticism” — guess I need to take a charm school refresher course).

Well, today she responded to my comment, not so much in terms of responding to anything I said but by expressing more of her thoughts about why she felt mysticism is un-Christian (and yes, she was more polite than I was). Even though we’re basically having a debate, I’m enjoying the opportunity to dialogue with someone whose views are radically unlike my own. If anyone would like to pitch in, please follow this link to see where the conversation is headed; or you can read my most recent comment on Diane’s blog, copied in full here:

Read More»

Quote for the Day

No one needs, I suppose, to be told that the two chief features of Christian schematic theology are the dogmas of the Trinity and the Incarnation. They correlate and explain each other: forming together, for the Christian, the “final key” to the riddle of the world. The history of practical and institutional Christianity is the history of the attempt to exhibit their meaning in space and time. The history of mystical philosophy is the history — still incomplete — of the demonstration of their meaning in eternity.

— Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism: The Nature and
Development of Spiritual Consciousness

Quote for the Day

In actual fact, contemplation is not the reward of a virtuous life; it is a necessity for a virtuous life.

— Thomas Keating, Intimacy with God 

William Blake

Today is William Blake’s 250th birthday.

I first learned that such a thing as mysticism existed when I studied Blake in my 11th grade English class. My teacher, Mrs. Romano, gave us a handout about Blake, in which she described him as “a mystic.” I asked her what that meant. She fumbled through her answer, but basically suggested he was a super-spiritual visionary. I don’t know if I fell in love with Blake or with mysticism that day, but both appealed to me.

When I was in college, I simply adored Blake, and thought that I would eventually go on to get my Ph.D. writing a dissertation on Blake. Obviously that never happened, and eventually I grew impatient with how idiosyncratic Blake’s vision is. Even so, I’ve always loved him, and consider his best works to be shining jewels in the crown of English literature. In Ulysses, James Joyce talks about “Blake’s wings of excess;” in Mysticism, Evelyn Underhill says Blake “shines like a solitary star in the uncongenial atmosphere of the Georgian age.” She calls Blake a “Protestant mystic” but I think Blake’s genius as a mystic belongs to world mysticism, rather than to its Christian sub-genre.

Anyone who has read this blog for a while knows my favorite Blake quote, from the Songs of Innocence:

And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love.

But my all-time favorite work of his is clearly The Marriage of Heaven and Hell. Granted, the ideas in this poem fall outside the boundaries of orthodox Christian theology (C. S. Lewis even tried to grant heaven and hell a divorce), but it is a brilliant glimpse into the promise of integral mysticism. The climax of the tale comes when Blake, accompanied by an angel, descends into the maelström of hell; in the midst of a vision worthy of Dante or Bosch, Leviathan appears and lunges toward them. The terrified angel quickly scrams and leaves Blake who notes that once the fear-ridden consciousness of the angel had left, so too the terrors of hell suddenly disappeared:

then this appearance was no more, but I found myself sitting on a pleasant bank beside a river by moon light hearing a harper who sang to the harp, & his theme was, The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, & breeds reptiles of the mind.

Seen integrally, this represents the transition out of mythic-membership consciousness — where spirituality is all about who is a sheep and who is a goat — and into unitive consciousness (grounded in Psalm 139:8, “If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there”). If mysticism means finding joy in God’s presence, then the division between heaven and hell is meaningless, for God is everywhere — even though liberals, who get squeamish about the terrors of hell, explain them away by saying what really puts the hell in hell is that it’s a place where one is separated from God. Poppycock! It’s impossible to be separated from God. Hell is not about being separated from God, it’s about choosing to resist the fire of Divine Love. Then, instead of making us incandescent, it burns. Integral consciousness recognizes that the key to heaven and hell lies within our heart. We are all predestined to spend eternity immersed in the presence of God, bearing the beams of God’s love. How we experience those beams — as heavy and burdensome, or as joyous as light — is, thanks to the free gift of grace, pretty much left up to us.

Okay, so I’ve wandered a long way off of William Blake, but that in itself is testimony to the splendor of his thought, idiosyncratic though it may be.

Happy birthday, William. Tell the harper I said hello.

Theological Dictionary Word of the Day

Here’s a fun blog: the Theological Dictionary Word of the Day.

Yesterday’s “word of the day” was “Christian Mysticism.” Click here to read the definition.

Friends, it’s a movement…

So what do Thomas Merton, Thich Nhat Hanh, Raimon Panikkar, Ken Wilber, Bede Griffiths, Ravi Ravindra and Henry Le Saux (aka Swami Abhishiktananda) have in common?

They’ve all done work involving the question of Christian spirituality in conversation with one or more forms of eastern mysticism. Some of them are Christians, some not, and at least one of them seems to have radically blurred the line between the two. For some of these folks, the east-west conversation seems to be the central or major thrust of their work. For others, it’s really just a sidebar to other concerns. But my point is, they’re all doing it. As Arlo Guthrie said when talking about what happens when fifty people are singing Alice’s Restaurant: “Friends, it’s a movement!”

I’m not saying every Christian needs to learn the lotus position or that every Vedantist needs to study the Bible. But I do think as our world gets smaller and smaller, we all need to be learning as much as we can about each other. And let us not forget that this party doesn’t just involve Christians, Buddhists and Hindus: Jews, Muslims, Sikhs, Pagans and countless others are invited to the dance as well.

I’m just sorry that I don’t know of any women to add to my list. Can anyone enlighten me about women — either Christian or non-Christian — who are directly engaged in the east-west conversation?

Mysticism feels good

Back in the 1990s I saw a bumper sticker that declared, simply, “The Truth Feels Good.” I’ve thought about that bumper sticker a lot since then. I think it’s a fascinating declaration. Lately I’ve begun to wonder how it squares with Christian doctrine. Christianity certainly has an ethic of sufffering, victimization and martyrdom, none of which (in my experience) feel so great. But the point is, of course, to seek a higher good than merely one’s own fleeing feelings. It is painful to devote one’s entire life to caring for someone in great need, to the point that it requires the delaying or denying of other goals. But this pain is swallowed up by a commitment to the higher good of working to create a world where everyone receives the care they need.

British theologian Don Cupitt describes mysticism as a strategy for achieving religious happiness. When I think about this alongside the bumpersticker, I’m left with the unlikely notion that “Mysticism feels good.” Certainly there is a long tradition of bliss and consolation as essential elements of a devout life of prayer. But mysticism also has its share of self-denial for the sake of something higher, greater, nobler than mere self-interest. I suppose that such purposeful self-denial provides its own satisfaction and its own reward, maybe not in terms of immediate feelings of happiness or pleasure, but in terms of a more grounded, from-the-heart sense of doing or participating in what is “right.”

Ayn Rand argued that altruism is never a good thing because it involves a violation of self-interest. But I see things a different way: authentic altruism is always an act of self-interest, maybe not on the surface level of appetite or whim, but on a higher level of integrity and conscience. Note that I say “authentic altruism.” Altruism, like anything else, can have toxic as well as healthy manifestations. Toxic altruism is basically that which is not freely given: an “altruism” borne of guilt, manipulation, coercion, control. Such altruism is not really altruism at all. No wonder it doesn’t feel very good.
:-)

Thomas Merton

I’ve just posted to the Mystics section of this website a page about Thomas Merton.

Click here to visit it.

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