Sunday Service Reading #11

From Rays of the One Light
Reason vs. Intuition

Jesus, when addressing his critics, appealed to reason and common sense. In his training of the disciples, however, he, like all great masters, encouraged in them the development of a higher faculty: soul-intuition. For it is only by intuition that spiritual perceptions are achieved.

In Chapter 16 of the Gospel of St. Matthew we find Jesus drawing on the intuition of his disciples by asking them who they thought he was, in reality. They immediately understood that what he wanted from them was a subtle answer, not some obvious reply based on his nationality, sex, and the like. Peter it was, at last, who understood and answered the question on its intended level: the spiritual.

“Thou art the Christ,” he said, “the son of the living God.”

And Jesus turned to him, saying, “lessed art thou, Simon, son of Jonah: for not by human nature was this truth revealed to thee, but by my heavenly Father. And I tell thee this also: Thou art Peter, which is to say, a rock, and upon this rock will I build my church, and never will the powers of darkness overwhelm it.”

Jesus was pleased with his disciple for relating to the question on its deepest level. Reason could not have given Peter that answer. The answer came through the faculty of soul intuition, and proved him thereby to be a spiritually advanced disciple. It was his intuitive perception—that insight which cannot be shaken by tempests of reasonable doubt—that Jesus praised in referring to him as a rock. The “church” he referred to, next, was the edifice of cosmic consciousness. Any outer church institution would have to depend, as in fact the Christian churches have always done, on the level of understanding of its individual leaders and members. Peter's intuitive perceptions could never have been passed on to an outward succession of prelates.

Clarity comes by direct soul-perception. Confusion results from excessive dependence on reason as the guide to understanding. As the second Chapter of the Bhagavad Gita states:

When your intellect, at present confused by the diversity of teaching in the Scriptures, becomes steadfast in the ecstasy of deep meditation, then you will achieve final union with God.

Thus, through holy Scripture, God has spoken to mankind.

VIDEO of Bharat's Service on this Subject from 3-14-10
MP3 for Download or online listening of Bharat's Service on the Subject from 3-14-10

VIDEO of Joe Begley (Dambara's) Service on this Subject from 3-14-10

MP3 for Download or online listening of Joe Begley (Dambara's) Service on the Subject from 3-14-10

VIDEO of Dr. Shanti Rubenstone's Service on this Subject from 3-15-09

MP3 for Download or online listening of Shanti Rubenstone's Service on this Subject from 3-15-09


VIDEO of Jyotish & Devi's Service on this Subject from 3-15-09

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Jyotish & Devi's Service on this Subject from 3-15-09

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Savitri & Sudarshan's Service on this Subject from 3-30-08

MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Tyagini Clark's Service on this Subject from 3-30-08

Long Readings from the 3 Volume Set:
Rays of the Same Light

#11 Reason vs. Intuition
("Reason vs. Intuition" in the original book)

This passage is from the Gospel of St. Matthew, Chapter 16, Verses 13-18:

"When Jesus arrived at the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, Who do people say that I the Son of man am?' And they replied, Some say thou art John the Baptist: some, Elijah; and others, Jeremiah, or one of the other prophets.'

"Then he asked them further, But who do you say that I am?'

"And Simon Peter replied, 'Thou art the Christ, the son of the living God.'

"And Jesus turned to him, saying, Blessed art thou, Simon, son of Jonah: for not by human nature was this truth revealed to thee, but by my heavenly Father. And I tell thee this also: Thou art Peter, which is to say, a rock, and upon this rock will I build my church, and never will the powers of darkness overwhelm it.'"

 Commentary

We see here beautifully contrasted two fundamental ways for arriving at a truth: human reason on the one hand; and the soul-faculty of intuition on the other. The people around Jesus witnessed the many miracles he performed; they probably felt also his extraordinary magnetism and love, and sensed the divine authority in his presence. They therefore realized — indeed, with some degree of intuition too, since their measure of him must have been based partly on their inner feelings — that here was no common man. Who, they seem to have been asking themselves, could this extraordinary individual be?

And then human reason took over, and they tried to identify Jesus with someone about whom something was known already: John the Baptist, perhaps, or one of the ancient prophets.

Such is reason's way: Instead of breaking new ideational ground, it tries to relate every new fact to something that is already familiar. New conclusions arrived at by reason alone will always be seen, on close inspection, to have been constructed — often most painstakingly — out of an assortment of materials already to hand.

That which introduces fresh, new insights into human understanding is the faculty of intuition. Great minds are always distinguished by this intuitive ability. Often, their extraordinary insights defy the most insistent conclusions of logic. No one else seems quite to understand how those insights were arrived at. Yet it is commonly accepted that the astonishing success of such people, whatever their chosen fields, is due especially to this intuitive faculty.

Intuition is a soul-faculty. Paramhansa Yogananda defined it as "the soul's power of knowing God." Its insights flow downward into the conscious mind — filtered, often, by the mist of human preconceptions — from the superconsciousness.

It is intuition, for example, which accounts for Einstein's far-from-expected discovery of the law of relativity — a realization that took him many years, subsequently, to justify to other scientists by the laborious process of reason.

St. Teresa of Avila said that, in a state of ecstasy, the soul recognizes in a flash truths which reason may require many years to learn.

The conscious mind, indeed, can do no other than learn new truths: It cannot recognize them. Recognition of truths that are not revealed to the mind by the senses is specifically the function of intuition.

All those who recognized something of the divinity in Jesus, and whose recognition made them ask themselves who this man might really be, probably felt, as we said, some stirrings of soul-intuition within themselves. Peter's intuitive faculties, however, were more perfectly developed than theirs. His deep inner communion with the Lord enabled him clearly to recognize in Jesus no mere prophet, but the very Messiah, the living Christ.

Jesus announced that Peter had arrived at this conclusion not by the deductions of reason (as those had done who speculated that Jesus might be one of the ancient prophets), but by inner revelation from God — that is to say, by deep soul-intuition.

Reason, often, is unreliable in the search for truth. If its premise is wrong, any deductions drawn from that premise will be wrong also. Deductions even from right premises may be influenced by unexamined and erroneous assumptions. Many times has the most carefully constructed framework of logic collapsed like a house of cards before the merest puff of breeze from some newly discovered fact.

Intuition, however, when firmly rooted in soul-consciousness, is as reliable as the clear certainty within the hearts of every one of us that we exist. It was to the lack of this faculty that Jesus referred when he said (John 8:43), "Why do ye not understand my speech? even because ye cannot hear my word."

And it was in recognition of this bedrock of intuitive perception in Peter that Jesus said to him, "Thou art Peter, which is to say, a rock."

On that bedrock of spiritual awareness, he continued, he would build his church. Paramhansa Yogananda explained that, by church, Jesus meant the mystical "edifice" of cosmic consciousness. Peter, in other words, had demonstrated his spiritual preparedness to receive the supreme gift Jesus had to bestow: that of God-realization.

We do not find Jesus discussing elsewhere the foundation of a church in his name. On the other hand, we find him saying, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." (John 2:19) On that occasion, we learn, his reference was not to the temple at Jerusalem, but to his own body. Many of his other allusions to material things were likewise symbolic. He said, for example, in John 4:32, "I have meat to eat that ye know not of," when by meat he meant something very different from what his disciples assumed.

Even granting tradition's claim, namely, that Jesus was prophesying that Peter would found a new religion in his name, the important point would be that such a new religion would base its strength on the bedrock of realized wisdom, and not on the fragile sands of intellectually conceived dogmas.

It is high time, in the historical unfoldment of religious teaching, for sincere seekers to develop their own ability to recognize truth — not by common sense only, nor by abstract logic, but by the intuitive powers of the soul. For science has conditioned us not to remain satisfied with belief alone. It is time, therefore, that we did more than believe in God. We must commune with Him!

The "church" of God is, as St. Paul put it in II Corinthians, 5:1, "A house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

Thus, through the Holy Bible, God has spoken to mankind.

This passage is from the second Chapter, the 53rd Stanza:

"When your intellect, at present confused by the diversity of teaching in the Scriptures, becomes steadfast in the ecstasy of deep meditation, then you will achieve final union with God."

Commentary

The Bhagavad Gita implies here that any search for spiritual truth, without the corresponding practice of deep, inner communion, will probably result sooner or later in mental confusion. For even the simplest teachings are open to misinterpretation.

The basic concern of the Scriptures, therefore, is only secondarily with defining truths, or with formulating dogmas. Spiritual niceties of this sort are more appropriately left to the pedants. The Scriptures, on the other hand, are more concerned with sounding a call to spiritual action. They offer practical suggestions for how one may grow in the actual realization of truth. And they seek to inspire in all men the desire to tread this highest path.

Endless theorizing is for labyrinthine minds. More pleasing to God than all the scholarship that human brain can hold is a heart, even though the mind be unlettered, that is open to His love.

The way to know God is by stilling the mind, and not by agitating it: by deep meditation, and not by reasoning intricately from countless Scriptural premises.

The way to know God is by living consciously in His blissful presence, and not by the perfunctory performance of outward rituals.

The way to know God, finally, is to commune with Him in inner silence, with true love, and not to shout to the heavens the carefully reasoned dogmas of one's beliefs.

He who loves deeply will speak little to others of his love. But he who boasts proudly of his devotion, and with outward noise displays his piety to others, is too besotted with the "music" of his own voice ever to hear the silent whispers of the infinite Beloved in his soul.

Dear ones, let us speak little, but love greatly. And let us ever commune with God in the ecstatic silence of our own souls.

Thus, through the Bhagavad Gita, God has spoken to mankind. Back to Top of Page

Longest Reading from the Book
The Promise of Immortality

#11 Reason vs. Intuition
("How To Relate to a Master" in the original book)

The following passage is from the Gospel of St. Matthew, Chapter 16, Verses 13–18:

“When Jesus arrived at the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say that I the Son of man am?’ And they replied, ‘Some say thou art John the Baptist; some, Elijah; and others, Jeremiah, or one of the other prophets.’

“Then he asked them further, ‘But who do you say that I am?’

“And Simon Peter replied, ‘Thou art the Christ, the son of the living God.’

“And Jesus turned to him, saying, ‘Blessed art thou, Simon, son of Jonah: for not by human nature was this truth revealed to thee, but by my heavenly Father. And I tell thee this also: Thou art Peter, which is to say, a rock, and upon this rock will I build my church, and never will the powers of darkness overwhelm it.’”

The subject of reincarnation, which this passage touches on at the beginning, has been discussed in an earlier chapter and will be gone into again later in this book. Meanwhile, important to our immediate subject is the contrast presented here between many people’s view of Jesus the “son of man” and Peter’s recognition in him of the infinite Christ consciousness, the Son of God.

A saint in India was wont to say, “I’m like a drum: As you beat me, so I sound.” A master is not what he appears to human eyes. Yet his human appearance is, for all that, an aspect of what he is. The distinction lies in the fact that he is infinitely more than what he appears. Thus, for those who see in him a great and wise teacher, he is that. For those who see him as a dear friend, he is also that. He appears differently to every person: as a gracious and charming individual; as a wonderful raconteur of wise stories; a delightful humorist; an inspired lecturer; an invincible opponent; a powerful crusader; a guileless child; a stern disciplinarian; the truest friend one could ever have. He is infinitely more than every possible definition of him, and more than the sum of all concepts of him—more even than people’s capacity to understand.

A master is like a mirror: Whatever qualities we present to him, he reflects back to us: not our errors, needless to say, but what our own souls perceive in us from their level of deeper wisdom. To each of us he represents the reactions of the eternal Self. Thus, even if people view him as the personification of kindness, he never fails to correct them, even sternly, if that is what they need at the moment. At the same time, behind each of those reflections he remains ever the same: wise, kind, all-forgiving, humble, firmly resolute, and forever incapable of compromising the truth. He is whatever each of us, in his soul, wants him to be; at the same time, he is beyond our mental concepts, unshakably centered in infinite consciousness.

The author recalls once addressing a saint in India lovingly, “How tirelessly and selflessly you have given of yourself to others all your life!”

The saint, gazing at him with calm eyes, replied, “Is that how you see it?”

Whatever else a master is, he is also a person of extraordinary magnetism. Thus—inevitably so—he attracts people to him though his one desire is to draw them to God, not to his humanity. Devotees who love God one-pointedly enjoy more than others do the charm and inspiration of a master’s nature. Nor is it wrong for anyone to do so. Indeed, it is his magnetism that carries the soul on a “magic carpet” up to the Infinite Light. The devotion a master receives is directed by him to God alone. And he patiently teaches others to direct their love to God also, viewing him as but a window onto infinity.

One of the chief signs of a true master, indeed, is the impersonality of his love: impersonal where he himself is concerned, but not where others’ needs are concerned. He knows, however, and others know also, whose perception is intuitive, that without the inspiration they receive from him their very devotion would become only a sputtering flame.

Thus, disciples often focus their devotion on the master as a catalyst for their love for God. By devotion to him as a conscious instrument of the Divine, they open themselves to the flow of divine love. The magnetic presence of a true master, far from impeding their spiritual progress, greatly accelerates it.

In like manner, people in general are lifted to higher levels of consciousness by associating respectfully with people who live more in wisdom than they themselves do. The young, therefore, are well instructed to show deference to the old, whose longer experience in life has (or should have) given them greater wisdom. It is good, indeed, to serve any human being whose magnetic influence can raise one to higher levels of awareness. To work even as a servant in the home of people who are socially above oneself can be a karmic boon for someone whose family background is coarse and uneducated, for it can help him to become more refined. Even pets who are loved by their owners receive an impetus through that association in their own spiritual evolution.

Thus, association with a great master, even for those with only dim awareness of what he is, can bring priceless spiritual benefits. Of course, the more aware one is, the greater the blessings he attracts.

Much grace comes through association with a great master, even for people who are only vaguely aware of the gifts they are receiving. The benefits vary, depending on the disciples’ understanding and receptivity. Few disciples are as intuitively attuned to their master as Peter showed himself in the above story to be. Most are content to enjoy the master’s personality. Thus, they follow him about eagerly, gaze at him avidly, and try mentally to absorb his expressions and gestures as indicative of the consciousness he emanates. His least remark is reported eagerly, and every tidbit of news concerning him is circulated widely: to whom he has spoken, whom he has favored especially, the time he has given to this person or to that. The disciples’ attention, in other words, is often directed so much outwardly that they neglect to develop inward communion with him, and think by physical association alone to receive his blessings.

Much of this sort of energy may be seen around the kings and queens in the royal courts of this world. We see it displayed also in this Bible passage in people’s fascination with such superficial questions as who Jesus was in other incarnations. It isn’t that such questions ought never to be asked, but only that too much of this kind of interest becomes mere gossip, and prevents one from absorbing the master’s vibrations and magnetism.

The author once, having noted a number of outstanding similarities between Jesus Christ and Paramhansa Yogananda, asked the guru, “Sir, were you Jesus Christ in a former life?”

“What difference would it make?” the guru replied indifferently. “The Ocean is the one reality beneath all its waves.”

Peter had perceived the vastness of Christ. Therefore Jesus said to him, “Thou art Peter, which is to say, a rock.” On the bedrock of Peter’s spiritual attainment, he implied, he would be able to construct the edifice—the “church,” as he called it—of cosmic consciousness. Peter, in other words, had demonstrated his spiritual preparedness to receive the supreme gift Jesus had to bestow: God-realization.

There are as many ways of relating to a true master as there are human beings that relate to him. Even a master’s own disciples limit themselves in what they receive, as long as they define his greatness in merely human terms. Those who seek their inspiration outwardly receive what eyes and ears can absorb, but not the deeper understanding craved by the soul. This understanding comes only by deep communion in meditation.

Wise, then, is that devotee who looks not only to the master’s physical form, but communes with him in his soul. To take inside the inspiration one receives from outward contact, however, is to discover that which truly expands the consciousness.

Herein, then, lies the secret of how to relate to a master. It is a relationship not only of inner communion and of receiving, but of self-giving. It comes not by taking eagerly what one can for oneself. Only in a spirit of mutuality can divine love be developed.

A mistake disciples sometimes commit is to attempt to “figure out” their guru, instead of calmly receiving him in their souls. One of Paramhansa Yogananda’s disciples, when referring to him, once told the author, “Every time I think I’ve understood him, I find he’s much more than I thought!” After this remark, the author thought, “Why would anyone even try to understand a true guru?”

To understand a master, one must himself become a master. Human beings—especially those of intellectual bent, like that disciple—often typify others, trying to mold them according to a variety of set “formulas.” This particular disciple was an astrologer. Her profession conditioned her to define everything in terms of planetary and constellational configurations. By reducing people to types, however, she lost normal understanding of them as living human beings who struggled, each of them, to achieve perfection. The result of this analytical attitude was that she herself eventually fell spiritually, her delusion being the belief that, in order to understand others, one need only to cover them with symbols.

True understanding, as Peter showed in the above passage, comes by identifying with others on a soul level as masters do. That disciple failed to see that definitions can never take the place of the thing defined. Human beings, especially, are far more than flesh-and-blood mechanisms. And masters, because they have no personal motivation, are not mechanisms at all. In that disciple’s attempt to define others, she placed herself mentally in the position of a judge, and thereby both judged herself and lost touch with normal human compassion.

The benefits gained (or the losses incurred) through association with other people are primarily magnetic, not conceptual. Our Guru had tried gently for years to dissuade that disciple from practicing astrology, for he saw that it would lead her to imagine in symbols a reality greater than people themselves.

Intuition, on the other hand, when it is firmly rooted in soul-perception, is reliable and true. It is by the power of intuition that people know beyond any shadow of rationalization that they exist, and that all beings are essentially divine. It was, on the other hand, to people’s lack of intuition that Jesus was referring when, in John 8:43, he said: “Why do ye not understand my speech? even because ye cannot hear my word.”

Except for his prediction that on Peter’s firm intuition he would found his church, we do not find Jesus mentioning the founding of any church. And though he said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up” (John 2:19), his reference was to his body and not, as his listeners at first thought, to the temple at Jerusalem. Even granting the claim of many Christians that Jesus in his prediction to Peter was hinting at the foundation of a new religion, the important point would be that this religion was to be built on the bedrock of realized wisdom, not on the sandy soil of dogmas. Divine wisdom alone is a true guide.

In the historic unfoldment of religion, the time has come for sincere spiritual aspirants of every faith to establish their own direct contact with Truth. This they must do not only by the use of common sense, as we said earlier, nor by blindly obeying priestly dictates, but by the intuitive power of the soul. Modern science has conditioned us to remain satisfied no longer with mere beliefs. The time has come for people to do more than believe in God: They must commune with Him! The true “church” of God is, as St. Paul put it in II Corinthians, “a house not made by hands, eternal in the heavens.” It was to this “church” that Jesus was referring in those words to Peter.

It is urgent also that mankind seek a deeper-than-rational understanding of life. For as human knowledge grows, it encompasses other cultures and other ways of thinking. This expansion of awareness cannot but convince people of the truth and beauty of other great religious teachings. People are discovering that many of those teachings are not the superstitious ravings of savages, as they once thought, but declarations of refined wisdom such that they cannot but wonder, “Of all these teachings, is only one of them true?”

Jesus Christ, by emphasizing the importance of intuition over intellect, showed how this dilemma may be resolved. In the Bhagavad Gita also, Stanza 53 of the second Chapter, we read:

“When your intellect, at present confused by the diversity of teaching in the scriptures, becomes steadfast in the ecstasy of deep meditation, then you will achieve final union with God.”

Krishna was implying that the quest for spiritual enlightenment must be founded on deep, inner communion, otherwise the result will, sooner or later, be intellectual confusion. For even the simplest spiritual truth is susceptible of misinterpretation, if one tries to understand it by the intellect alone.

The basic concern of scripture, therefore, is only secondarily to give careful explanations of the truth. Puzzle-solving is for trudging minds. True scripture is primarily a call to spiritual action. It offers practical suggestions for how actually to realize truth. Its primary purpose is to inspire people to desire this lofty achievement.

Endless theorizing is for pedestrian minds. More pleasing to God than all the scholarship our brains can hold is to open our hearts to His love. If we love, then even though our brains be completely unlettered, it matters not.

The way to know God is to still the mind, by deep meditation. The way to know Him is to live consciously in His blissful presence. The way to know Him is to commune with Him in the inner silence, and to fill the heart, finally, with His love.

This, then, is the way to relate also to a master. We must approach him with the sincere desire to establish an inward relationship with God. Superficial disciples make a show of devotion to the guru, but those who are spiritually deep hold his presence in their hearts, absorb his vibrations silently into their souls, and seek his guidance inwardly rather than outwardly in words.

We should not allow our minds to be swayed by outer circumstances, but keep them fixed on our inner attunement. Here it is that our relationship with a master can be established in truth. All else is like winds on the sea that keep the waves agitated while in the process changing nothing.

One who loves God deeply will speak little of his love, but will listen to the Beloved’s silent whispers in his soul. He cannot imagine desecrating that beatitude by displaying it before others.

And the same is true in our relationship with a master. That seeker receives most who communes in inner silence, being little interested in outward speech.

Let us speak little, then, but love much. And let us ever commune ecstatically with the Lord, as the great masters do, in our souls.

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