THE NEW BIRTH: WHAT IT IS: INSTANCES DESCRIBED

The chief difference between the religions and the philosophies of the Orient and those of the Occident, lies in the fact that the Oriental systems, methods, and practices, emphasize the assumption that the goal of these efforts, is attainable at any moment, as it were.

That is, Oriental religion-speaking in the broad sense-teaches that the disciple need not wait for the experience called death to liberate the Self, the atman, from the enchantment or delusion, the maya, of the external world. Indeed, the Oriental devotee well knows that physical death, mrityu, is not a guarantee of liberation; does not necessarily bring with it immortality.

He well recognizes that physical death is but a procedure in existence. Death does not of itself, change the condition of maya, in which the disciple is bound until such a time, as he has earned liberation-mukti, which condition may be defined as immunity from further incarnation.

Immortality is our rightful heritage but it must be claimed,-yea, it must be earned.

It is a mistake to imagine that death makes man immortal. Immortality is an attribute of the gods. But since all souls possess a spark of the divine essence of Brahman (The Absolute), mukti may be attained by earnest seeking, and thus immortality be realized.

This condition of awakening, is variously named among Oriental sages and chelas, such for instance as glimpsing the Brahmic splendor; mutki; samadhi; moksha; entering Nirvana; becoming “twice-born.”

In recent years there have come to light in the Occident a number of instances of the attainment of this state, and these have been described as “cosmic consciousness;” “illumination;” “liberation;” the “baptism of the Holy Ghost;” and becoming “immersed in the great white light.”

Baptism, which is a ceremony very generally incorporated into religious systems, is a symbol of this esoteric truth, namely the necessity for Illumination in order that the soul may be “saved” from further incarnations-from further experience.

The term cosmic consciousness as well describes this condition of the disciple, as any words can, perhaps, although the term liberation is more literal, since the influx of this state of being, is actually the liberation of the atman, the eternal Self, from the illusion of the external, or maya.

Contrary to the general belief, instances of cosmic consciousness are not extremely rare, although they are not at all general. Particularly is this true in the Orient, where the chief concern as it were, of the people has for centuries been the realization of this state of liberation.

The Oriental initiate in the study of religious practices, realizes that these devotions are for the sole purpose of attaining mukti, whereas in the Occident, the very general idea held by the religious devotee, is one of penance; of propitiation of Deity. This truth applies essentially to the initiate, the aspirant for priesthood, or guru-ship. No qualified priest or guru of the Orient harbors any doubt regarding the object, or purpose of religious practices. The attainment of the spiritual experience described in occidental language as “cosmic consciousness” is the goal.

The goal is not a peaceful death; nor yet an humble entrance into heaven as a place of abode; nor is it the ultimate satisfying of a God of extreme justice; the “eye for an eye” God of the fear-stricken theologian.

One purpose only, actuates the earnest disciple, like a glorious star lighting the path of the mariner on life’s troublous sea. That goal is the attainment of that beatific state in which is revealed to the soul and the mind, the real and the unreal; the eternal substance of truth, and the shifting kaleidoscope of maya.

Nor can there be any purpose in the pursuit of either religion or philosophy other than this attainment; nor does the unceasing practice of rites and ceremonies; of contemplation; renunciation; prayers; fasting; penance; devotion; service; adoration; absteminousness; or isolation, insure the attainment of this state of bliss. There is no bartering; no assurance of reward for good conduct. It is not as though one would say, “Ah, my child, if thou wouldst purchase liberation thou shalt follow this recipe.”

No golden promises of speedy entrance into Paradise may be given the disciple. Nor any exact rules, or laws of equation by virtue of which the goal shall be reached. Nor yet may any specific time be correctly estimated in which to serve a novitiate, before final initiation.

Many indeed, attain a high degree of spirituality, and yet not have found the key of perfect liberation, although the goal may be not far off.

Many, very many, on earth to-day, are living so close to the borderland of the new birth that they catch fleeting glimpses of the longed-for freedom, but the full import of its meaning does not dawn. There is yet another veil, however thin, between them and the Light.

The Buddha spent seven years in an intense longing and desire to attain that liberation which brought him consciousness of godhood-deliverance from the sense of sin and sorrow that had oppressed him; immunity from the necessity for reincarnation.

Jesus became a Christ only after passing through the agonies of Gethsemane. A Christ is one who has found liberation; who has been born again in his individual consciousness into the inner areas of consciousness which are of the atman, and this attainment establishes his identity with The Absolute.

All oriental religions and philosophies teach that this state of consciousness, is possible to all men; therefore all men are gods in embryo.

But no philosophy or religion may promise the devotee the realization of this grace, nor yet can they deny its possible attainment to any.

Strangely enough, if we estimate men by externalities, we discover that there is no measure by which the supra-conscious man may be measured. The obscure and unlearned have been known to possess this wonderful power which dissolves the seeming, and leaves only the contemplation of the Real.

So also, men of great learning have experienced this rebirth; but it would seem that much cultivation of the intellectual qualities, unless accompanied by an humble and reverent spirit, frequently acts as a barrier to the realization of supra-consciousness.

In “Texts of Taoism,” Kwang-Tse, one of the Illuminati, writes:

“He whose mind is thus grandly fixed, emits a heavenly light. In him who emits this heavenly light, men see the true man (i.e., the atman; the Self). When a man has cultivated himself to this point, thenceforth he remains constant in himself. When he is thus constant in himself, what is merely the human element will leave him, but Heaven will help him. Those whom Heaven helps, we call the sons of Heaven. Those who would, by learning, attain to this, seek for what they can not learn.”

Thus it will be seen, that according to the reports offered us by this wise man, that which men call learning guarantees no power regarding that area of consciousness which brings Illumination-liberation from enchantment, of the senses-mukti.

Again, in the case of Jacob Boehme, the German mystic, although he left tomes of manuscript, it is asserted authoritatively, that he “possessed no learning” as that word is understood to mean accumulated knowledge.

In “The Spiritual Maxims” of Brother Lawrence, the Carmelite monk, we find this:

“You must realize that you reach God through the heart, and not through the mind.”

“Stupidity is closer to deliverance than intellect which innovates,” is a phrase ascribed to a Mohammedan saint, and do not modern theologians report with enthusiasm, the unlettered condition of Jesus?

In the Orient, the would-be initiate shuts out the voice of the world, that he may know the heart of the world. Many, very many, are the years of isolation and preparation which such an earnest one accepts in order that he may attain to that state of supra-consciousness in which “nothing is hidden that shall not be revealed” to his clarified vision.

In the inner temples throughout Japan, for example, there are persons who have not only attained this state of consciousness, but who have also retained it, to such a degree and to such an extent, that no event of cosmic import may occur in any part of the world, without these illumined ones instantly becoming aware of its happening, and indeed, this knowledge is possessed by them before the event has taken place in the external world, since their consciousness is not limited to time, space, or place (relative terms only), but is cosmic, or universal.

This power is not comparable with what Occidental Psychism knows as “clairvoyance,” or “spirit communication.”

The state of consciousness is wholly unlike anything which modern spiritualism reports in its phenomena. Far from being in any degree a suspension of consciousness as is what is known as mediumship, this power partakes of the quality of omniscience. It harmonizes with and blends into all the various degrees and qualities of consciousness in the cosmos, and becomes “at-one” with the universal heart-throb.

A Zen student priest was once discovered lying face downward on the grass of the hill outside the temple; his limbs were rigid, and not a pulse throbbed in his tense and immovable form. He was allowed to remain undisturbed as long as he wished. When at length he stood up, his face wore an expression of terrible anguish. It seemed to have grown old. His guru stood beside him and gently asked: “What did you, my son?”

“O, my Master,” cried out the youth, “I have heard and felt all the burdens of the world. I know how the mother feels when she looks upon her starving babe. I have heard the cry of the hunted things in the woods; I have felt the horror of fear; I have borne the lashes and the stripes of the convict; I have entered the heart of the outcast and the shame-stricken; I have been old and unloved and I have sought refuge in self-destruction; I have lived a thousand lives of sorrow and strife and of fear, and O, my Master, I would that I could efface this anguish from the heart of the world.”

The guru looked in wonder upon the young priest and he said, “It is well, my son. Soon thou shalt know that the burden is lifted.”

Great compassion, the attribute of the Lord Buddha, was the key which opened to this young student priest, the door of mukti, and although his compassion was not less, after he had entered into that blissful realization, yet so filled did he become with a sense of bliss and inexpressible realization of eternal love, that all consciousness of sorrow was soon wiped out.

This condition of effacement of all identity, as it were, with sorrow, sin, and death, seems inseparable from the attainment of liberation, and has been testified to by all who have recorded their emotions in reaching this state of consciousness. In other respects, the acquisition of this supra-consciousness varies greatly with the initiate.

In all instances, there is also an overwhelming conviction of the transitory character of the external world, and the emptiness of all man-bestowed honors and riches.

A story is told of the Mohammedan saint Fudail Ibn Tyad, which well illustrates this. The Caliph Harun-al-Rashid, learning of the extreme simplicity and asceticism of his life exclaimed, “O, Saint, how great is thy self-abnegation.”

To which the saint made answer: “Thine is greater.” “Thou dost but jest,” said the Caliph in wonderment. “Nay, not so, great Caliph,” replied the saint. “I do but make abnegation of this world which is transitory, and thou makest abnegation of the next which will last forever.”

However, the phrase, “self-abnegation,” predicates the concept of sacrifice; the giving up of something much to be desired, while, as a matter of truth, there arises in the consciousness of the Illumined One, a natural contempt for the “baubles” of externality; therefore there is no sacrifice. Nothing is given up. On the contrary, the gain is infinitely great.

Manikyavasayar, one of the great Tamil saints of Southern India, addressed a gathering of disciples thus:

“Why go about sucking from each flower, the droplet of honey, when the heavy mass of pure and sweet honey is available?” By which he questioned why they sought with such eagerness the paltry pleasures of this world, when the state of cosmic consciousness might be attained.

The thought of India, is however, one of ceaseless repudiation of all that is external, and the Hindu conception of mukti, or cosmic consciousness, differs in many respects from that reported by the Illumined in other countries, even while all reports have many emotions in common.

Again we find that reports of the cosmic influx, differ with the century in which the Illumined one lived. This may be accounted for in the fact that an experience so essentially spiritual can not be accurately expressed in terms of sense consciousness.

Far different from the Hindu idea, for example, is the report of a woman who lived in Japan in the early part of the nineteenth century. This woman was very poor and obscure, making her frugal living by braiding mats. So intense was her consciousness of unity with all that is, that on seeing a flower growing by the wayside, she would “enter into its spirit,” as she said, with an ecstacy of enjoyment, that would cause her to become momentarily entranced.

She was known to the country people around her as Sho-Nin, meaning literally “above man in consciousness.”

It is said that the wild animals of the wood, were wont to come to her door, and she talked to them, as though they were humans. An injured hare came limping to her door in the early morning hours and “spoke” to her.

Upon which, she arose and dressed, and opened the door of her dwelling with words of greeting, as she would use to a neighbor.

She washed the soil from the injured foot, and “loved” it back to wholeness, so that when the hare departed there was no trace of injury.

She declared that she spoke to and was answered by, the birds and the flowers, and the animals, just as she was by persons.

Indeed, among the high priests of the Jaïns, and the Zens (sects which may be classed as highly developed Occultists), entering into animal consciousness, is a power possessed by all initiates.

Passing along a highway near a Zen temple, the driver of a cart was stopped by a priest, who gently said: “My good man, with some of the money you have in your purse please buy your faithful horse a bucket of oats. He tells me he has been so long fed on rice straw that he is despondent.”

To the Occidental mind this will doubtless appear to be the result of keen observation, the priest being able to see from the appearance of the animal that he was fed on straw. They will believe, perhaps, that the priest expressed his observations in the manner described to more fully impress the driver, but this conclusion will be erroneous. The priest, possessing the enlarged or all-inclusive consciousness which in the west is termed “cosmic,” actually did speak to the horse.

Nor is this fact one which the western mind should be unable to follow. Science proves the fact of consciousness existing in the atoms composing even what has been termed inanimate objects. How much more comprehensible to our understanding is the consciousness of an animate organism, even though this organism be not more complex than the horse.

There is a Buddhist monastery built high on the cliff overlooking the Japan Inland sea, which is called a “life-saving” monastery.

The priests who preside over this temple, possess the power of extending their consciousness over many miles of sea, and on a vibration attuned to a pitch above the sound of wind and wave, so that they can hear a call of distress from fishermen who need their help.

This fact being admitted, might be accounted for by the uninitiated, as a wonderfully “trained ear,” which by cultivation and long practice detects sounds at a seemingly miraculous distance.

But the priests know how many are in a wrecked boat, and can describe them, and “converse” with them, although the fishermen are not aware that they have “talked” to the priest.

Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa, the latest incarnation of God in India, and the master to whom the late Swami Vivekananda gives such high praise and devotion, lived almost wholly in that exalted state of consciousness which would appear to be more essentially spiritual, than cosmic in the strict sense of the latter word, since cosmic should certainly imply all-inclusiveness, rather than wholly spiritual (spiritual being here used as an extremely high vibration of the cosmos).

We learn that Sri Ramakrishna was a man comparatively unlettered, and yet his insight was so marvelous, his consciousness so exalted that the most learned pundits honored and respected him as one who had attained unto the goal of all effort-liberation, mukti, while to many persons throughout India to-day, and indeed throughout the whole world, he is looked upon as an incarnation of Krishna.

It is related of Sri Ramakrishna that his yearning for Truth (his mother, he called it), was so great that he finally became unfit to conduct services in the temple, and retired to a little wood near by. Here he seemed to be lost in concentration upon the one thought, to such an extent that had it not been for devoted attendants, who actually put food into his mouth, the sage would have starved to death. He had so completely lost all thought of himself and his surroundings that he could not tell when the day dawned or when the night fell. So terrible was his yearning for the voice of Truth that when day after day passed and the light he longed for had not come to him he would weep in agony.

Nor could any words or argument dissuade him from his purpose.

He once said to Swami Vivekananda:

“My son, suppose there is a bag of gold in yonder room, and a robber is in the next room. Do you think that robber can sleep? He cannot. His mind will be always thinking how he can enter that room and obtain possession of that gold. Do you think, then, that a man firmly persuaded that there is a reality behind all these appearances, that there is a God, that there is One who never dies, One who is Infinite Bliss, a bliss compared with which these pleasures of the senses are simply playthings,-can rest contented without struggling to attain it? No, he will become mad with longing.”

At length, after almost twelve years unceasing effort, and undivided purpose Sri Ramakrishna was rewarded with what has been described as “a torrent of spiritual light, deluging his mind and giving him peace.”

This wonderful insight he displayed in all the after years of his earthly mission, and he not only attained glimpses of the cosmic conscious state, but he also retained the Illumination, and the power to impart to a great degree, the realization of that state of being which he himself possessed.

Like the Lord Buddha, this Indian sage also describes his experience as accompanied by “unbounded light.” Speaking of this strange and overpowering sense of being immersed in light, Sri Ramakrishna described it thus: “The living light to which the earnest devotee is drawn doth not burn. It is like the light coming from a gem, shining yet soft, cool and soothing. It burneth not. It giveth peace and joy.”

This effect of great light, is an almost invariable accompaniment of supra-consciousness, although there are instances of undoubted cosmic consciousness in which the realization has been a more gradual growth, rather than a sudden influx, in which the phenomenon of light is not greatly marked.

Mohammed is said to have swooned with the “intolerable splendor” of the flood of white light which broke upon him, after many days of constant prayer and meditation, in the solitude of the cavern outside the gates of Mecca.

Similar is the description of the attainment of cosmic consciousness, given by the Persian mystics, although it is evident that the Sufis regarded the result as reunion with “the other half” of the soul in exile.

The burden of their cry is love, and “union with the beloved” is the longed-for goal of all earthly strife and experience.

Whether this reunion be considered from the standpoint of finding the other half of the perfect one, as exemplified in the present-day search for the soul mate, or whether it be considered in the light of a spiritual merging into the One Eternal Absolute is the question of questions.

Certainly the terms used to express this state of spiritual ecstacy are words which might readily be applied to lovers united in marriage.

One thing is certain, the Sufis did not personify the Deity, except symbolically, and the “beloved one” is impartially referred to as masculine or feminine, even as modern thought has come to realize God as Father-Mother.

In all mystical writings, we find the conclusion that there is no one way in which the seeker may find reunion with The Beloved.

“The ways of God are as the number of the souls of men,” declare the followers of Islam, and “for the love that thou wouldst find demands the sacrifice of self to the end that the heart may be filled with the passion to stand within the Holy of Holies, in which alone the mysteries of the True Beloved can be revealed unto thee,” is also a Sufi sentiment, although it might also be Christian or Mohammedan, or Vedantan.

Indeed, if the student of Esotericism, searches deeply enough, he will find a surprising unity of sentiment, and even of expression, in all the variety of religions and philosophies, including Christianity.

It has been said that the chief difference between the message of Jesus and those of the holy men of other races, and times, lies in the fact that Jesus, more than his predecessors, emphasized the importance of love. But consider the following lines from Jami, the Persian mystic:

“Gaze, till gazing out of gazing
Grew to BEING HER I gazed on,
She and I no more, but in one
Undivided Being blended.
All that is not One must ever
Suffer with the wound of absence;
And whoever in Love’s city
Enters, finds but room for one
And but in Oneness, union.”

These lines express that religious ecstacy which results from spiritual aspiration, or they express the union of the individual soul with its mate according to the viewpoint. In any event, they are an excellent description of the realization of that much-to-be-desired consciousness which is fittingly described in Occidental phraseology as “cosmic consciousness.” Whether this realization is the result of union with the soul’s “other half,” or whether it is an impersonal reunion with the Causeless Cause, The Absolute, from which we are earth wanderers, is not the direct purpose of this volume to answer, although the question will be answered, and that soon.

From whence and by whom we are not prepared to say, but the “signs and portents” which precede the solution of this problem have already made their appearance.

Christian students of the Persian mystics, take exception to statements like the above, and regard them as “erotic,” rather than spiritual.

Mahmud Shabistari employs the following symbolism, but unquestionably seeks to express the same emotion:

“Go, sweep out the chamber of your heart,
Make it ready to be the dwelling-place of the Beloved.
When you depart out, he will enter in,
In you, void of your_self_, will he display his beauty.”

The “Song of Solomon” is in a similar key, and whether the wise king referred to that state of samadhi which accompanies certain experiences of cosmic consciousness, or whether he was reciting love-lyrics, must be a moot question.

The personal note in the famous “song” has been accounted for by many commentators, on the grounds that Solomon had only partial glimpses of the supra-conscious state, and that, in other words, he frequently “backslid” from divine contemplation, and allowed his yearning for the state of liberation, to express itself in love of woman.

An attribute of the possession of cosmic consciousness is wisdom, and this Solomon is said to have possessed far beyond his contemporaries, and to a degree incompatible with his years. It is said that he built and consecrated a “temple for the Lord,” and that, as a result of his extreme piety and devotion to God, he was vouchsafed a vision of God.

As these reports have come to us through many stages of church history and as Solomon lived many centuries before the birth of Jesus, it seems hardly fitting to ascribe the raptures of Solomon as typifying the love of the Church (the bride) for Christ (the bridegroom).

Rather, it is easier to believe, the wisdom of the king argues a degree of consciousness far beyond that of the self-conscious man, and he rose to the quality of spiritual realization, expressing itself in a love and longing for that soul communion which may be construed as quite personal, referring to a personal, though doubtless non-corporeal union with his spiritual complement.

Although the pronoun “he” is used, signifying that Solomon’s longing was what theology terms “spiritual” and consequently impersonal, meaning God The Absolute, yet we suggest that the use of the masculine pronoun may be due entirely to the translators and commentators (of whom there have been many), and that, in their zeal to reconcile the song with the ecclesiastical ideas of spirituality, the gender of the pronoun has been changed. We submit that the idea is more than possible, and indeed in view of the avowed predilections of the ancient king and sage, it is highly probable.

He sings:

“Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth
For his love is better than wine.”

Again he cries:

“Behold thou art fair my love, behold thou art fair, thou hast dove’s eyes.”

The realization of mukti, i.e., the power of the atman to transcend the physical, is thus expressed by Solomon, clearly indicating that he had found liberation:

“My beloved spoke and said unto me, ’Rise up my love my fair one, and come away. For lo, the winter is passed, the rain is over and gone.

“’The flowers appear upon the earth; the time of singing of birds has come, and the voice of the turtle dove is heard in our land.

“’The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vine with the tender grapes gives a goodly smell. Arise my love, my fair one, and come away.’”

It is assumed that these lines do not refer to a personal hegira, but rather to the act of withdrawing the Self from the things of the outer life, and fixing it in contemplation upon the larger life, the supra-conscious life, but there is no reason to doubt that they may refer to a longing to commune with the beautiful and tender things of nature.

Another point to be noted is that in the spring and early summer it is with difficulty that the mind can be made to remain fixed upon the petty details of everyday business life. The awakening of the earth from the long cold sleep of winter is typical of the awakening of the mind from its hypnotisms of external consciousness.

Instinctively, there arises a realization of the divinity of creative activity, and the mind soars up to the higher vibrations and awakes to the real purpose of life, more or less fully, according to individual development.

This has given rise to the assumption, predicated by some writers on cosmic consciousness, that this state of consciousness is attained in the early summer months, and the instances cited would seem to corroborate this assumption.

But, as a poet has sung, “it is always summer in the soul,” so there is no specific time, nor age, in which individual cosmic consciousness may be attained.

A point which we suggest, and which is verified by the apparent connection between the spring months, and the full realization of cosmic consciousness, is the point that this phenomenon comes through contemplation and desire for love. Whether this love be expressed as the awakening of creative life, as in nature’s springtime, or whether it be expressed as love of the lover for his bride; the dove for his mate; the mother for her child, or as the religious devotee for the Lord, the key that unlocks the door to illumination of body, soul and spirit, is Love, “the maker, the monarch and savior of all,” but whether this love in its fullness of perfection may be found in that perfect spiritual mating, which we see exemplified in the tender, but ardent mating of the dove (the symbol of Purity and Peace), or whether it means spiritual union with the Absolute is not conclusive.

The mystery of Seraphita, Balzac’s wonderful creation, is an evidence that Balzac had glimpses of that perfect union, which gives rise to the experience called cosmic consciousness.

It is well to remember that in every instance of cosmic consciousness, the person experiencing this state, finds it practically impossible to fully describe the state, or its exact significance.

Therefore, when these efforts have been made, we must expect to find the description colored very materially by the habit of thought, of the person having the experience.

Balzac was essentially religious, but he was also extremely suggestible, and, until very recently, Theology and Religion were supposed to be synonymous, or at least to walk hand in hand. Balzac’s early training and his environment, as well as the thought of the times in which he lived, were calculated to inspire in him the fallacious belief that God would have us renounce the love of our fellow beings, for love of Him.

Balzac makes “Louis Lambert” renounce his great passion for Pauline, and seems to suggest that this renunciation led to the subsequent realization of cosmic consciousness, which he unquestionably experienced.

Nor is it possible to say that it did not, since renunciation of the lower must inevitably lead to the higher, and we give up the lesser only that we may enjoy the greater.

In “Seraphita” Balzac expressed what may be termed spiritual love and that spiritual union with the Beloved, which the Sufis believed to be the result of a perfect and complete “mating,” between the sexes, on the spiritual plane, regardless of physical proximity or recognition, but which is also elsewhere described as the soul’s glimpse of its union with the Absolute or God.

The former view is individual, while the latter is impersonal, and may, or may not, involve absorption of individual consciousness.

In subsequent chapters we shall again refer to Balzac’s Illumination as expressed in his writings, and will now take up the question of man’s relation to the universe, as it appears in the light of cosmic consciousness, or liberation.