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Sunday Service Reading #21
In Chapter 4 of the Gospel of St. John, the woman of Samaria asks Jesus, Where is the best place to worship? This question might be expanded to include: What is the best church? What is the best religion? Is it important to go on pilgrimage to holy shrines? What is the best ritual? What is the best mantra or prayer? Jesus cut across all such questioning with his reply: The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship Him. God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth. It was not that outer considerations of place, church, ritual, etc., are irrelevant. Each person should find those practices and observances which are compatible with his own nature—one might say, with his own vibrations. Not everyone's natural path is the same. God sent different religions into the world to satisfy different human needs. The overarching concern, however, considering that the goal is to find God, is to include in one's worship daily, inner communion with the Lord. God is Silence: He must be sought, therefore, in inner silence. God is Absolute Love: He must be sought, therefore, in the silence of love. God is Spirit, and thus immaterial: He must be sought, above all, in the expanding peace of deep meditation. Thus, the Bhagavad Gita states in the sixth Chapter: Sequestered should he sit, Wherever you are, whatever your outward beliefs and observances, seek God in the silence of your own soul. Thus, through holy Scripture, God has spoken to mankind. VIDEO of Bharat's Service on this Subject from 5-23-10 VIDEO of Asha's Service on this Subject from 5-23-10 VIDEO of Ananda Minister's Service on this Subject from 5-24-09 MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Dave Warner's Service on this Subject from 5-25-08 MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Jyotish's Service on this Subject from 5-27-07 MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Robert Clark's Service on this Subject from 5-29-08 MP3 for Download (or online listening) of Asha's Service on this Subject from 5-27-07 Long Readings from the 3 Volume Set: Bible "The Higher Meaning of Pilgrimage" This passage is from the Gospel of St. John, Chapter 4, Verses 23 and 24: "The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him. "God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth." Commentary To worship God "in spirit and in truth" means to commune with Him in inner silence. Jesus' message here is unequivocal, especially when it is seen in context. For he was replying to a question put to him by the woman of Samaria, who had asked him to tell her in what place it was better to worship God: in Samaria, or in Jerusalem. Jesus made it clear in his reply that one should worship God above all inwardly, and outwardly only as an expression of inner devotion. It wasn't that he denied the value of outward worship. He was saying, rather, that the benefits of worship of all kinds depend on the depth of feeling a person infuses into his devotions. Traditions may be found in every religion to the effect that holy vibrations exist in certain places on earth. These vibrations may be attributed historically to the fact that miracles have been performed there, or to the one-time presence of great masters. Or they may simply be the result of centuries of devout worship in those places. Once a place becomes impregnated with spiritual power, its vibrations may linger on for centuries. Jesus himself met the woman of Samaria at Jacob's well, an ancient site that was still considered holy in his day. Yet his reply to her contained a universal teaching: "Believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father." Outward pilgrimage, he was saying, without corresponding inner communion with God, is of only temporary value. The important thing is our inner relationship with the Lord. When visiting holy places, we should tune in sensitively to their vibrations, and maintain a deeply prayerful attitude. Our hearts' feelings must be stilled, to receive divine blessings. Thus we may in fact gain lasting benefits from pilgrimage. Above all, however, what Jesus recommended was the "pilgrimage" to our divine Source within. Wherever the body is, what we must do is "worship the Father in spirit and in truth." We should make a portable altar of our hearts. Outward pilgrimage may help to reinforce and deepen our attunement with God, but His favorite altar is the heart purified, cleansed of attachment and desire, uplifted to His love. To worship God "in spirit" means to rise above body-consciousness. This one does in deep meditation. To worship God "in truth" means not to remain satisfied with mere intellectual concepts about Him; nor yet to accept the cloudy, illusory visions and "inspirations" that well up from the subconscious. To worship Him "in truth" means to persist in meditation until He lifts us into actual, ecstatic communion with Him. The validity of superconscious experience can be tested and verified by every sincere devotee. It will have transforming power over his life. Divine experience, unlike the shadowy mental images that are inspired by subconsciousness, and unlike the passing peace one feels in holy places, leaves nothing and no one that it touches ever the same again. Jesus here, then, is saying, "If you want to be the kind of worshiper that God Himself is seeking, out of His vast family of devotees, set aside time every day for direct, superconscious contact with Him in meditation. Enter into the silence of inner, divine communion." The holiest of holies is the inner sanctuary of the heart. Thereon should be kept ever burning the sacred lamp of fervent devotion to the Lord. Thus, through the Holy Bible, God has spoken to mankind.
Bhagavad Gita The Inward Journey This passage is from the 6th Chapter, the 10th Stanza, in the poetic rendition of Sir Edwin Arnold: "Sequestered should he sit, Steadfastly meditating, solitary, His thoughts controlled, his passions laid away, From every craving for possessions freed." Commentary The devotee must take time occasionally to be alone with God. Only as his awareness deepens of God's silent inner presence can the waves of his mental and emotional restlessness be stilled, and the boat of his life be steered serenely to the divine shores. Paramhansa Yogananda often said, "Seclusion is the price of greatness." How long ought one to sit in meditation? A good rule is to meditate as long as one can do so with joy, or with keen interest and alert attention. One ought never to sit long hours merely to test his endurance. Nor ought one to sit long if it means meditating absent-mindedly. Far more important than the duration of meditation is its intensity. Absent-mindedness, and what Paramhansa Yogananda called "lackluster devotion," are formidable barriers to spiritual progress. Even five minutes of deep meditation would be preferable to sitting a whole hour, if all one did during that hour was watch the clock! In fact, a good practice is to sit as though the time available were indeed only five minutes. From the moment you assume your meditative posture, enter at once into the heart of your spiritual practices. Resolutely set aside all restless thoughts. Refuse to move even a muscle. Discipline your body, your mind, your emotions; offer them up to God. Concentrate your entire being on the upward flow of your spiritual aspiration. An hour, indeed, is little enough time out of the day to give to God! What if He were to forget you for even a second? You would cease to exist! Think how many hours one gives to sleep every night. The commonly recommended norm is eight hours — though in fact one can get by on fewer. For another eight hours, more or less, one works. This leaves another eight hours for eating, for talking with others, for traveling to and from work, for relaxation. Out of this third segment, can we not set aside at least one or two hours for God? And out of the eight hours people devote to subconscious sleep, can they not devote one or two to the much deeper rest of superconsciousness? The sincere seeker should make it a practice to meditate at least one and a half hours every day. Better still, he should make it one and a half hours twice a day. This recommendation, however, is for those especially in whom the meditative habit is already established. Beginners generally would do well to meditate less. They should discipline themselves first to intensity. Only after achieving intensity will they find long meditation beneficial. In any case, one should allow his taste for meditation to grow naturally. Never should he force it. The more deeply he experiences divine joy in his soul, the more he will want to meditate deeply and long; he won't need urging from anyone. The longer he meditates with deep concentration, at that point, the better. There is a peculiar notion that one encounters nowadays, that meditation is addictive! People have actually compared meditation to the taking of drugs. Indeed, it may be averred that deep meditation is far more enjoyable than any drug! To confuse soul-joy with drug addiction, however, or with spiritual error of any kind, is absurd. Meditation is the way out of bondage, not into it! One wonders how such misconceptions ever develop. Perhaps this one got its start because meditation helps one to withdraw temporarily from outer reality, and people for whom no other reality exists assumed that meditation, like drug addiction, separates one from all reality. Or it may be that people whose minds are restless, because they are uncomfortable in the presence of others who are calm, seek thus to justify their own superficiality. The truth is, in any case, that meditation, because it calms the mind and silences the ego's demands, actually makes it much easier to tune in to reality at all levels. Moreover, unlike subconscious, or drug-induced, experiences, meditation actually gives one authority over outer reality — a proof that the state of consciousness into which it lifts one constitutes a higher level of reality. Even the meditative novice finds that he can relate better to others, and understand and help them more deeply. Meditation even intensifies the enjoyment one experiences through the senses! After deep meditation, the world seems filled with new wonder and beauty; colors appear more intense; music thrills one more deeply. One returns to outward awareness far more refreshed than after a deep sleep. And all things seem vibrant with joy, the more deeply one lives in the joy of God within! The first step toward divine union is to spend some time alone with God every day — "sequestered," as the Gita puts it here; one's thoughts controlled; one's passions stilled. This is the inward pilgrimage. It is the "strait and narrow" path to liberation. Thus, through the Bhagavad Gita, God has spoken to mankind. Back to Top of Page Longest Reading from the Book The Inner Way of Pilgrimage Everything in existence is both alive and conscious. The very atoms express these aspects of reality at least latently—and perhaps even more than latently. Freeman Dyson, the well-known physicist, stated, “Atoms in the laboratory . . . [behave] like active agents rather than inert substances. They make unpredictable choices between alternative possibilities according to the laws of quantum mechanics. It appears that mind, as manifested by the capacity to make choices, is to some extent inherent in every atom.” God is not separate from His creation. Far from being “Wholly Other,” as theologians have described Him, He is different from us and from all things only in His and our contrasting degrees of awareness. God’s awareness is absolute. Man’s is imprisoned in a little body and ego—like the moon’s reflection in a teacup. Awareness in the lower animals—to continue the analogy—might be compared to the moon reflected on a pinhead. Even the rocks have a certain degree of awareness, albeit very dim—like moonlight weakly reflected in a thick, dark carpet, but not like the complete lack of reflection in a darkling abyss. Physicists cannot predict absolutely the movement of atoms, for even these, to a degree incomprehensible to science, are self-directed. Divine consciousness exists at the center of every particle in existence: “center everywhere,” as Paramhansa Yogananda put it; “circumference nowhere.” What science can see is only the husk of reality, so to speak, not its living seed. Therefore scientists speak so matter-of-factly of life itself, as though everything were basically inert. They see everything in the universe as observers, from outside. Their concern is with effects, not with living causes. The rules of science cannot help them to bridge the gap between their own awareness and consciousness in anything else. To them, the awareness even of those near and dear to them should be considered an effect. If a scientist intuits his own wife’s feelings, but doesn’t actually see them expressed, for example in a pleased smile or a frown of displeasure, he feels it necessary to exclude that intuition rigidly from his reasoned understanding of the event. His scientific training has taught him that intuition is subjective, and therefore unacceptable as a phenomenon. A person with some degree of spiritual awareness, on the other hand, if education has not filled him with doubts induced by scientific dogma, easily bridges the identity-gap with others. For his awareness of the life in himself binds him in empathy to life everywhere. Take moonlight as an example. It shines everywhere impersonally. No “bottomless abyss” can negate it. If one concentrates on moonlight itself instead of on its reflection in the little teacup of his ego, he knows that the light is the reality of which those reflections are only parts of its countless appearances. Everything, to the materialist, is a lifeless husk. He views the living seed within in relation to that husk, and judges it commonplace—a mere object. Even a work of genius is something he appreciates for its skillful execution more than for the inspiration that gave it birth. To a person who is spiritually inclined, on the contrary, even the husk is a manifestation of its inner germ of life. Divine worship is therefore, and quite naturally, inward as well as outward. To one whose view is inward, all things are sacred. All life is, in this sense, a pilgrimage, and everything in existence a holy shrine where resides the Lord Himself. Without meditation, however, it is not easy to experience inspiration even in a holy shrine—what to speak of in a mere rock. For to see God everywhere, and not merely to affirm that He is omnipresent, one must be aware of Him first within oneself. It is important, therefore, to worship God first in the temple of one’s own body, and to become conscious of Him as a living reality. Without reverence, the most sacred shrine on earth cannot inspire love for God. Jesus Christ said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” His critics thought he was referring to the temple at Jerusalem, where he was at the time. They pointed out that it had taken forty-six years for that temple to be constructed. How did he think he could do the same job in three days? The Bible concludes, “But he spake of the temple of his body.” (John 2:19,21) Jesus was not saying that the magnificent temple at Jerusalem did not deserve people’s veneration. All he said was that the supreme pilgrimage is within, not without. On other occasions also he placed supreme importance on this inward pilgrimage, without thereby denying the value of outer pilgrimage also. We have already considered two of those occasions. The first was when the woman of Samaria said to him: “Our fathers worshiped in this mountain; and ye say, that in Jerusalem is the place where men ought to worship.” Jesus answered, “Woman, believe me, the hour cometh, when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father. . . . The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshipers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him. God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.” (John 4:20–24) To worship God “in spirit and in truth” means to commune with Him in inner silence. The meaning of this passage is unequivocal: We should worship God above all in ourselves, and outwardly only to express the devotion we feel in our hearts. In Luke 17:21 Jesus said also, “Neither shall they say, Lo here! or, lo there! for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.” It is surprising, indeed, considering how outward most people are in the practice of his teachings, to consider the austerity with which Jesus himself directed their attention inward to the soul. Consider also his famous words, “When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly.” (Matthew 6:6) At the same time, he didn’t oppose outer worship or outward pilgrimage in general. That famous occasion when he washed his disciples’ feet demonstrated perfectly his belief that one’s love for God should be expressed outwardly also. And he approved of communal worship, indicating that endorsement by saying, “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” (Matthew 18:20) The austerity with which he counseled inwardness, then, was intended rather to correct an excessive outwardness in people than to denounce outer worship and pilgrimage altogether. Every religion teaches that in certain places on earth there are holy vibrations. God is equally present everywhere, but His manifestations are not all equal. A rock is different from a plant. God’s blissful consciousness, too, is manifested variously everywhere. In some places, the divine vibrations are particularly potent, owing to the fact that divine miracles have been performed there, or that spiritual masters have lived there. Paramhansa Yogananda, to strengthen this awareness in his disciples, told them one day, “I have meditated in every place on these grounds at Mt. Washington.” The uplifting vibrations of certain places are due also to the fact that devout pilgrims for centuries have worshiped in them. When a place becomes impregnated with spiritual power, its vibrations linger on for centuries. Jesus met the woman of Samaria at Jacob’s well, an ancient site still venerated in his day. Indeed, the benefit of going on pilgrimage to holy places, such as the Holy Land, is not because of their rich history, but for the fact that divine blessings can be experienced when visiting them. Their very soil is impregnated with a higher consciousness. The Holy Land itself is an example of such a place. So also is India. To meditate in the Himalayas, especially, and even to visit them with a reverent attitude, is to be affected with their vibrations of inner freedom. The shrines also at Lourdes in France, and at Tarakeshwar in Bengal, continue to this day to produce healing miracles. Yet the reply Jesus gave to the woman of Samaria was a universal teaching: “Believe me, the hour cometh when ye shall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jerusalem, worship the Father.” Outward pilgrimage, he was saying, without corresponding inner communion with God, is of little benefit. The important thing is above all our inner relationship with the Lord. When visiting holy places, we should tune in sensitively to their vibrations, with a deeply prayerful attitude. If our hearts’ feelings are uplifted calmly to receive the divine blessings, the benefits we gain will be enduring. Above all, however, what Jesus recommended was the “pilgrimage” to our own divine Source, within. Wherever we are, physically, we should worship the Father “in spirit and in truth,” making a portable altar of our hearts. Outward pilgrimage is a good way of reinforcing and deepening our attunement with God, but the true altar of Spirit is a heart purified of attachments and desires, and uplifted to His love. To worship God “in spirit” means, in deep meditation, to rise above body-consciousness. Otherwise, what is pilgrimage? Most people consider it a way of getting divine blessings without bothering to be worthy of receiving them. To worship God “in truth” means to go beyond mere intellectual concepts, and beyond imaginary subconscious “inspirations”; it means to persist in meditation until God raises us to ecstatic communion with Him. The validity of superconscious experience can be tested and verified by all sincere devotees. It has transforming power over every aspect of life. Divine experience, unlike the shadowy images that arise from the subconscious, and unlike the brief peace experienced in holy places, leaves no one that it touches ever the same again. Jesus here, then, is saying, “If you want to be the kind of worshiper whom God Himself seeks, set aside some time every day for superconscious divine contact in meditation. Enter into the silence of inner communion.” This “holy of holies” can only be symbolized, externally. Its reality is the sanctuary of the heart. On that altar we should keep always lit the sacred lamp of our devotion. True pilgrimage, then, like true worship, is primarily inward. It is perhaps not so difficult to visualize the body as a place of worship, for in meditation one is, outwardly, motionless like a temple. Pilgrimage, however, implies moving from one place to another. An unmoving body gives no impression of movement at all. The Bhagavad Gita says that outer motionlessness during meditation is important. In the 6th Chapter, the 10th Stanza, in the poetic rendition of Sir Edwin Arnold, the scripture states: Sequestered should he sit, Steadfastly meditating, solitary, His thoughts controlled, his passions laid away, From every craving for possessions freed. Stillness, yes. But pilgrimage? Pilgrimage to sacred shrines is a symbol of the inner, spiritual quest. As a symbol, however, it seems lacking in that one feature: movement. Yet, strange to relate, there is definite movement during meditation. The movement is not outward. It takes place within the body. To begin with, for understanding this truth, it would help to know something of the vastness of our inner universe. Man’s physical size is more or less midway between that of the largest body in the universe and the smallest. Small as we seem to be, physically, we are vast compared to the atoms. The space in our bodies is comparably vast also. A veritable universe shines within us like a galaxy seen from outer space, its subtle lights scintillating from every atom in our bodies. The very space between those atoms is as vast, relatively speaking, as that between the far-spread stars. Alternatively, we may say with perfect truth that nothing—neither the outer nor the inner universe—exists at all except as a figment of thought in the stillness of Absolute Consciousness. Within the vastness of our inner space—real to us, as long as our consciousness moves outwardly with the Cosmic Vibration—there exists a solar system, which is centered in our egos. There is an inner as well as an outer astronomy, and an inner and an outer astrology. In ancient times, both were the same science, though nowadays there are many who belittle astrology as a pseudo science. They do so partly because the uses to which they put it are trivial, and partly because astrologers themselves have only a superficial understanding of their own science. That astrology is a science, however, has been averred by the wise for thousands of years. Even the view of modern science is changing: not its view of astrology itself—this, it has yet to give serious consideration—but of the universe. Science has discovered it to be a vast electromagnetic field, in its intricacy subtly inter-connecting all material phenomena. The claims of astrology, when viewed in light of these new discoveries, are by no means “pagan.” Indeed, they are reasonable. And they are also scientific in the true sense, for many of them have already been tested empirically and found to work. The Book of Genesis (1:14) tells us, “And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heavens . . . and let them be for signs.” There are “planets” and “constellations” in our inner universe comparable to the electromagnetic vortices of planetary and stellar bodies in outer space. And there are movements of energy in the body comparable to the movement of sun, moon, and planets through the zodiac. This is not the place for a lengthy discussion of astrology. It will facilitate understanding of our theme, however, to point out that a pathway exists which the bodily energy follows, both in its normal function and in its ascent toward enlightenment. This journey is our inner pilgrimage. This way of pilgrimage takes us through the spine. The meditator should begin by understanding that his spine is not composed merely of gristle and bone: It is a subtle passageway for the flow of the life-energy. The spine even physically is the route by which energy passes between the brain and the body. The human will—both consciously and subconsciously—sends energy to the body through the nerves in the spine, commanding movement, tension—even the breath. The body’s energy seems endowed with very little power, for its effect on material instruments is minimal. The deeper one’s spiritual realization, however, the more he realizes that mastery over this energy gives one control over everything in the universe by simple command of the will. Thus did God make His creation. Man himself, in harmony with divine will, is godlike in power as well. In this sense, miracles as such do not exist. Certain people there are who simply understand and are aware of certain aspects of truth, of which most people are ignorant. Conscious awareness of the body’s energy brings one to the source of all energy. To tap this source is to gain command of matter itself. Even today, though 400 have passed years since the times of Galileo and Newton, we stand barely at the dawn of scientific discovery. Yet man has already found that, the greater his command over the atomic source of matter, the greater his command over matter itself. Thus, the inner pilgrimage is very real. It is movement, not stasis. Only at the end of the journey is absolute stillness attained. This journey is subtle, however. As it is not easy for a wrestler to thread a needle, because of his thick fingers, so one who is accustomed to “wrestling” outwardly with matter may not yet have acquired the subtle awareness needed to master the finer energies of the body. On outward pilgrimage, it may sometimes be necessary to heave heavy rocks aside, if there has been a rockslide. On the inner pilgrimage, similarly, it may be necessary to heave aside the “blocks” of restlessness, or to blow aside with a puff of yogic breath the mental cobwebs that obscure one’s path. Outwardly, we belong to the whole universe. The most distant star exerts some influence upon us, and affects our energy and consciousness, and, through them, our lives. Certain groupings of stars, or constellations, bear the same names even today. The particular influence of each of them was anciently described. The constellations along the zodiacal path, which commonly are called signs, gain additional energy in the way they affect us as the sun, moon, and planets move across them. Astrology is by no means a modern fad, but had its origins far in the past, in an age that, according to the Hindu scriptures, was spiritually more highly advanced than our own. The science, as anciently known, was based on variations of magnetic influence in the universe, and on people’s individual reactions to those influences. Superstition has blurred the picture, for people like to think of the universe as focused personally upon them, with malicious or benevolent intent. Influences do exist, however; they vary according to innumerable factors. To human beings, it should be explained, those influences are utterly neutral. It is people’s response to them individually that makes them personally significant, just as one person finds expansive inspiration in a moonrise, whereas another feels only, in the same moonrise, a sense of sadness. The astrological influences begin affecting us from the moment of our birth. How we respond to them is still subject to our free will. We can alter the way we respond, or even reject certain influences altogether. Still, the influences themselves begin to work on us from the moment we come onto the stage of life and take our first breath. Breath sets into motion an inner “astrology.” For the breath is intimately connected with the movement of energy in the spine. In meditation, it is relatively easy, by inner awareness, to sense the energy in the spine flowing upward and downward: upward with inhalation, downward with exhalation. Indeed, this energy-flow is the actual cause of respiration. Without it, the body itself would be unable to respond to the need for oxygen. The spine is also the pathway to spiritual awakening. Not fancifully has every civilization described heaven as situated above us, and hell as below. The higher our center of energy in the spine, the happier we feel. And the lower that center, the more we are depressed. Even the words we commonly use to describe those two states reflect this truth. We speak of feeling high or low, “up” or “down,” elated or depressed. In moments of exhilaration, we inhale automatically. With a sudden accession of grief, we automatically sigh. Habitually happy people have a stronger inhalation. And people who are chronically morose have a stronger exhalation. Again, happy people tend more to look upward, to sit up straight, and to square their shoulders, whereas people who are unhappy tend to look downward, to stand and sit slumped forward, and let their shoulders droop. The inner pilgrimage of awakening is a process of raising one’s energy and consciousness through the subtle astral channel of the spine to the brain. This end is accomplished by controlling the breath, deliberately bringing the energy upward and downward in the spine in conjunction with the breath. The spine is thereby magnetized, the energy of the body drawn within, enabling it to raise one’s entire awareness toward soul-consciousness within, and to free one from the outer influences of the universe. There are subtle centers of energy in the spine that correspond to the neural plexuses through which nerves carry energy to and from the spine and the parts of the body. From the lowest plexus, the coccyx, nerves pass to the legs. From the next plexus above that, the sacral, nerves pass to higher portions such as the sex organs. From the lumbar plexus located opposite the navel they pass to the digestive organs. From the dorsal plexus, opposite the heart, they nourish the heart and lungs. From the cervical plexus, opposite the throat, they affect the vocal cords, throat, and neck. And from the medulla oblongata they reach the brain. At the medulla, indeed, they divide and become the two currents of energy in the spine, taking the energy upward and downward with the breath. The medulla oblongata is, indeed, intimately connected with the heart and lungs. Each of the subtle energy centers above (chakras, they are called in Sanskrit) corresponds to the outer universe and its constellations, twelve of which are along the zodiac. The inner world mirrors the outer, in a sense. The twelve zodiacal signs, as they are called, represent in combination the whole nature of man. By bringing these inner correspondences into balance, we achieve our eternally allotted task: self-perfection. With soul-awakening, the energy ceases its upward and downward flow, and rises in outer breathlessness through the center of the spine to the brain. There, perfect inner union is achieved at last. This union carries the consciousness beyond delusion’s veils to union with God and with all creation. At the end of every outward pilgrimage there is usually a temple or some other shrine where movement ends (ideally, at least!) in meditative stillness. The same may be said of the soul’s pilgrimage within. The upward journey of energy and consciousness in the spine ends in the perfect stillness of Self-realization. To become conscious of the inner energies of the body, it is necessary, first, to withdraw the mind from its identification with the world of the senses. This withdrawal is accomplished by first sitting upright and motionless, the spine straight, the gaze directed upward with half-closed eyes (indicative of the superconscious state, halfway between consciousness and subconsciousness), the mind focused at the point between the eyebrows. When the body is still, awareness awakens of the subtle flow of energy in it. How long ought one to sit in meditation? A good rule is to meditate as long as one can do so with enjoyment, or with keen interest and alert attention. Never sit for long hours merely to test your endurance. And don’t sit long, if in doing so you meditate absent-mindedly. Far more important than the duration of a meditation is its intensity. Absent-mindedness, and what Paramhansa Yogananda called “lackluster devotion,” are the greatest barriers to spiritual progress. Even five minutes of deep meditation would be preferable to sitting a whole hour “in the silence,” if all one did during that hour was watch the clock! In fact, a good practice is to sit as if your time for sitting were indeed only five minutes. From the very moment you assume your meditative posture, enter immediately into your spiritual practices. Resolutely set aside all attachment to restlessness. Refuse to move even a muscle. Discipline your body, mind, and emotions, that you may offer them all up to God. Concentrate your whole being on your upward flow of aspiration. Isn’t an hour little enough time out of one day to give to God? What if He were to forget you for one second? It would be impossible for Him to do so, of course, for you are an inextricable part of Him, but were it possible you would cease to exist! Think how many hours you give to sleep at night. The commonly recommended norm is eight hours, though in fact it is easy to get by on less. Another eight hours, more or less, are given to work. This leaves another eight hours for eating, talking, shopping, traveling, and relaxation. Out of this third segment, can you not set aside one or two hours for God? Again, out of the hours you spend in subconscious sleep, can’t you devote one or two of them to the much deeper rest of superconsciousness? The sincere seeker should make it a practice to meditate at least one-and-a-half hours every day: better still would be the same amount of time twice a day. This recommendation, however, is for those especially who are well established in meditation. Beginners would generally do well to meditate less, and to discipline themselves rather to intense absorption in their meditative efforts. Only with inner absorption will they find long meditation beneficial. In any case, let your taste for meditation grow naturally. Never force it. The more deeply you experience joy in the soul, the more you will want to meditate long hours without urging from anyone. Once you can meditate deeply, remember this: the longer, the better. For the mind is like a glass of water, clouded by the particles of restlessness that float in it. It takes time for the clouded water to become clear, as the particles in it settle to the bottom. There is a peculiar notion nowadays, due especially to propaganda in a few churches, that meditation is addictive! People have actually compared meditation to the taking of hallucinogenic drugs! Deep meditation is, indeed, far more enjoyable than any drug. To confuse soul-joy with consciousness-altering drugs, however, or with self-hypnosis, is absurd. Meditation is the way out of bondage, not into it! One wonders how such misconceptions develop. Perhaps they begin owing to the fact that meditation induces a temporary withdrawal from the senses. If all people know is their sensory impressions, they may assume that any withdrawal from those impressions is like drug addiction. And yet, this is what everyone does, in sleep! Of course, restless minds are uncomfortable in the presence of people who are calm. Worldly consciousness often finds calmness irritating. The truth, in any case, is that meditation, by calming the mind and silencing the ego’s demands, actually makes it possible at last to tune in to reality at every level. Unlike hallucinogenic or subconscious experiences, moreover, meditation actually increases a person’s authority over the outer world. It demonstrates thereby that the superconscious state puts one in touch with a higher reality. Even the novice finds, after meditation, that he can relate better to other people, and is more able to understand and help them. Meditation even intensifies sensory enjoyment! After deep meditation, the world seems filled with wonder and delight. Colors appear more beautiful; music, more exquisite. On return to outward awareness, one feels far more refreshed than after a long, deep sleep. Even the food one eats tastes more delicious! All things seem vibrant with joy, and thrilling because manifestations of your own self. As far as “practical” life is concerned, the mind of someone who meditates regularly gains increased clarity and power of concentration. Problems that, for most people, require days or months for solution are solved easily, often in mere minutes. The first step toward divine union is to spend a little time every day alone with God—“sequestered,” as the Gita puts it, one’s thoughts controlled, one’s passions stilled. Yogananda would often say, “Seclusion is the price of greatness.” This is inward pilgrimage: the “straight and narrow” path to liberation. Here we find the hidden meaning of the words of John the Baptist, quoted from Esaias: “Make straight the way of the Lord.” (John 1:23) The spine is the true highway of pilgrimage. It is the way to your own liberation. Keep it straight always, even during activity. Strive to direct the energy of your body to the brain. As an aid in this direction, mentally chant always to God. |