SCHUON now turns his attention to the universal and transcendent characteristics of esotericism, although he is keen to lay to rest some of the myths surrounding the “external modes” of this dimension. Needless to say, the esoteric is not “external” in the way that the exoteric is, although it does bear certain aspects that are less “essential” than others.
The Swiss metaphysician draws our attention to the large number of individuals who are permitted to join initiatory organisations such as those of the ancient Pythagoreans or more contemporary Islamic brotherhoods:
The explanation of this more or less “popular” participation in what is most inward and hence most subtle in a religion is that esoterism, in order to exist in a given world, must be integrated with a particular modality of that world, and this will necessarily involve relatively numerous elements of society; this leads to a distinction, within the brotherhoods, between inner and outer circles, the members of the latter being scarcely aware of the real nature of the organization to which they belong in a certain degree, and which they regard simply as a form of the outward religion, which alone is accessible to them. (p.34)
Membership of the Muslim orders, at least, is divided in that some candidates progress no further than the stage of mutabarik (“blessed”), whilst others go on to attain the higher status of salik (“one who travels”) and thus complete the wider demands of the initiatory process. Membership of the former, Schuon argues, has grown considerably and can even inhibit the practice of a deeper and more spiritual life. Nevertheless, despite their very basic understanding of esoteric matters the mutabarikun do benefit from being part of an initiatory group which receives a degree of positive influence from the top down:
All the same, this participation of the “people,” that is, of men representing the collective average, in the spirituality of the elite is not always to be explained solely by reasons of opportunity but also, and above all, by the law of polarity or compensation whereby “extremes meet,” and it is for this reason also that “the voice of the people is the Voice of God” (Vox populi, Vox Dei); it may be said that the people, in their capacity as passive and unconscious transmitters of the symbols, represent, as it were, the periphery or the passive or feminine reflection of the elite, the latter possessing and transmitting the symbols in an active and conscious way. (p.35)
In short, this arrangement is based on a hierarchical relationship by which an esoteric aristocracy interacts with a secondary chamber of initiation that involves a form of collective participation for wider spiritual ends. This may seem ironic, certainly if viewed in a typically profane context, but unlike a political or class-based hierarchy the members of the mutabarik and salik realms are fully united in their mutual desire to accord with the principle of the Absolute:
It can be said that the intellectual functions of the people are the crafts and folklore, the first representing method or realization and the second doctrine; in this way the people reflect passively and collectively, the essential function of the elite, namely, the transmission of the properly intellectual aspect of the religion, a clothing for which is provided by symbolism in all its forms. (p.35)
Before proceeding further, Schuon seeks to address the question of religious universality. As we saw in the previous part in this series, despite the importance of retaining a unique identity each closed system nonetheless has a more extensive significance and must – despite appearances to the contrary – come to terms with the equal validity of other religious forms at the level of the transcendent:
If this relative superiority did not exist, those Hindus who became Moslems through the centuries could have had no positive reason for acting as they did. The fact that Islam constitutes the last form of the Sanātana Dharma in this mahā-yuga, to use Hindu terms, implies that this form possesses a certain contingent superiority over preceding forms; similarly, the fact that Hinduism is the most ancient of the living religious forms implies that it possesses a certain superiority or centrality with respect to later forms. (p.36)
Parochial ignorance towards other religious values, it is argued, does not outweigh the universal function that pervades them all and which is actualised when one form comes into contact with another. The true esotericist, therefore, will willingly sacrifice cultural and geographical considerations in recognition of a common spiritual principle.
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Although spirituality in its exoteric form cannot deny the transcendent role performed by the esoteric, Schuon believes it is necessary for the exoteric it to ignore it in order to secure its validity and identity at the more contained level of orthodoxy and revelation. Without doing so, each religious form would be dangerously undermined in light of the all-pervasive Absolute:
Perhaps the most important among the conceptions that are inaccessible to exoterism is, in certain respects at least, that of the gradation of universal Reality: Reality affirms itself by degrees, but without ceasing to be “one,” the inferior degrees of this affirmation being absorbed, by metaphysical integration or synthesis, into the superior degrees. This is the doctrine of the cosmic illusion: the world is not only more or less imperfect or ephemeral, but cannot even be said to “be” at all in relation to absolute Reality, since the reality of the world would limit God’s Reality and He alone “is.” (p.38)
The exoteric is thus incapable of comprehending the wider, universal principle on account of presenting its devotees with a personal interpretation of God. The Absolute, in other words, being fundamentally impersonal and beyond ordinary understanding.
Readers will recall our brief reference to Meister Eckhart in the Introduction, noting his controversial tendency to describe the human soul as “uncreate and uncreatable” in its futile attempts to grapple with the more extensive ramifications of ultimate reality. When one considers that Eckhart was suggesting that God is in all things, and that beyond dogma and theology there lies the immanence of all living creatures, it is hardly surprising that the religious authorities of fourteenth-century Germany were so keen to put him on trial. The case remains a classic example of the exoteric trying to suppress the earth-shattering revelations of the esoteric in order to preserve its own specific interests. Cases of this nature are usually dismissed as an exercise in “pantheism,” although Schuon is quick to point out that pantheism itself
consists in the admission of a continuity between the Infinite and the finite; but this continuity can only be conceived if it is first admitted that there is a substantial identity between the ontological Principle—which is in question in all forms of theism—and the manifested order, a conception that presupposes a substantial, and therefore false, idea of Being, or the confusing of the essential identity of manifestation and Being with a substantial identity. (p.40)
Not to mention, either, that this charge is also wrong both on account of divine substance (materia prima) and from the perspective of the pantheist himself, remaining transcendent in relation to its more earthly modes. Eckhart’s analysis, therefore, at no time infers that objects have a separate existence from God in the way that pantheism ascribes to them an independent relativity of their own. For those of an exoteric bent, what Eckhart was saying was even more controversial. As for the inevitable reverberations of attempting to create a division between objects and divine substance, Schuon tells us, the
fatal consequence of such reasoning is pure and simple materialism, for once manifestation is no longer conceived as being essentially identical with its Principle, the logical admission of this Principle becomes solely a question of credulity, and if this sentimental reason collapses there is no longer any reason for admitting the existence of anything beyond manifestation, and more particularly, beyond sensory manifestation. (p.41)
Returning to the question of the impersonal nature of God located within the esoteric, rather than the deeply personal characterisation of the Divine that one finds in the exoteric field, Schuon regards the former as a “Non-Personality” in the sense that it exceeds the boundaries of “Divine Ego”. Esoteric impersonality, by contrast, is something that is completely unlimited:
This distinction between the Divine Person, who manifests a particular Will in a given world, symbolically unique, and the Divine “impersonal” Reality which, on the contrary, manifests the essential and universal Divine Will through the forms of the particular or personal Divine Will—and sometimes in apparent contradiction with the latter—this distinction, we repeat, is absolutely fundamental in esoterism, not only because it is an important feature of metaphysical doctrine, but also, secondarily, because it explains the antinomy that may appear to exist between the exoteric and esoteric spheres. (p.42)
Schuon contends that King Solomon – based on his comprehension of the esoteric – was able to perceive both ends of this unique dichotomy, simply by recognising the will of the “Divine Person” in the degenerated pagan symbolism that itself reflected a “Divine Impersonality”. Whilst many regard Solomon as a heretic, he nonetheless discovered God in the most unexpected of places and the fact that he is so deeply venerated within the mystical traditions of Kabbalah and Sufism is testimony to his continuing importance on the esoteric level.
Solomon, as Schuon recalls, had inherited his royal status from David and thus had to pay the price for his familial predecessor’s own transgression of the exoteric domain when he arranged for Uriah to perish in battle so that he could take Bathsheba for his wife. However, David and Solomon are similar in that father and son were seen to fulfil a wider cosmic plan. In the case of the former, the third king of Israel, his
actions, though having a negative aspect on an outward plane, nevertheless do not constitute “sins” in themselves. One might even say that God inspired these actions with a view to the Revelation of the Psalms, of which the purpose was to record, in Divine and immortal song, not only the sufferings and glory of the soul in search of God, but also the sufferings and glory of the Messiah. David’s manner of acting was clearly not in all respects contrary to the Divine Will, since God not only “pardoned” David (to use the somewhat anthropomorphic biblical term), but even allowed him to keep Bathsheba, the cause and object of the “sin.” (p.46)
Once again, those actions which appear wicked from an exoteric perspective are justified – even rewarded – on account of a more important esoteric stratagem.
The fact that such events are permitted to happen on an exoteric level demonstrates that God has no intention of levelling or unifying contained religious systems such as Christianity or Islam within the Ultimate Reality and will actively tolerate their proliferation. As far as Schuon is concerned, this means that the exoteric dualisms of both creature/Creator and individual ego/Divine Self are retained. At the same time, it is crucial to remember that this only happens
in a provisional and “methodic” manner and not in an absolute sense; taking its point of departure at the level of this duality, which obviously corresponds to a relative reality, it ultimately passes beyond it metaphysically, which would be impossible from the exoteric point of view, the limitation of which consists precisely in its attributing an absolute reality to what is contingent. (p.47)
By preserving the dichotomous interaction between creature/Creator on the one hand and individual ego/Divine Self on the other, God is able to maintain the personal relationship between mankind and the Divine without absorbing all faiths, nations, colours and creeds within the broader impersonality of the Absolute:
It is not the actual fact of this dogmatic dualism that is blameworthy, since it corresponds exactly to the individual viewpoint at which religion places itself, but solely the inductions that imply the attribution of an absolute reality to what is relative. Meta-physically, human reality is reducible to the Divine Reality and in itself is only illusory; theologically, Divine Reality is in appearance reduced to human reality, in the sense that It does not surpass the latter in existential but only in causal quality. (pp.47-48)
The sheer beauty of this subtle distinction thus maintains the profound and mysterious connection between the theologically particular and the metaphysically universal.
Another fascinating contrast appears in the way that each level regards the question of evil. Although the esoteric realm is often seen to relegate or do away with the concept of evil altogether, it simply reinterprets it in a more ubiquitous fashion. One may even use the Gnostic term ‘Demiurge’ as an example of the way in which the universal principle is shielded from the material plane, often by employing the use of imagery or symbolism that appears somewhat alien or unfamiliar:
Man being a conscious individual, the cosmic tendency in question, when it comes in contact with him, necessarily takes on an individual and conscious aspect, a “personal” aspect according to the current expression. Outside the human world this same tendency may assume entirely impersonal and neutral aspects, as, for example, when it is manifested as physical weight or material density, or in the guise of a hideous beast or of a common and heavy metal such as lead. (p.48)
Evil, for Schuon, is not denied by the esoteric on account of a refusal to either recognise or acknowledge reality, but as a result of its capacity to recognise and select that which can be more readily accepted on the exoteric level and yet nonetheless retaining its links with cosmic reality.
More controversially, perhaps, Schuon even suggests that those facets of university reality which one might associate with evil are crucial to the overall maintenance of that same principle:
It is self-evident that the cosmic tendency of which the Devil is the quasi-human personification is not evil since it is this same tendency, for example, that condenses material bodies, and if it were to disappear—an absurd supposition—all bodies or physical and psychic compositions would instantaneously volatilize. Even the most sacred object therefore has need of this tendency in order to be enabled to exist materially, and no one would be so rash as to assert that the physical law that condenses the material mass of, say, the Sacred Host is a diabolical force or in any sense an evil. It is precisely because of this neutral character (independent of the distinction between good and evil) of the demiurgic tendency that the esoteric doctrines, which reduce everything to its essential reality, seem to deny what in human parlance bears the name of “evil.” (p.49)
This, the Swiss thinker prefers to label “non-moral” (rather than “immoral,” for obvious reasons) and for those operating on the esoteric plane the idea of “sin” is transcended by his or her “dissipation” into an all-embracing unity. Within Islam, the absorption of the individual into the Unity of God even allows the initiate (fakir) to entertain the transgressive idea that there are other divinities besides Allah.
Notions of “sin” committed at the purely exoteric level are therefore outweighed if seeming violations of this kind facilitate the fulfilment of an esoteric principle. One finds the same approach in the antinomianism of Tantra, whereby sexual transgressions involving blood, urine or semen – and which might ordinarily be frowned upon by most Hindus – become esoteric “taboos” that serve a higher, sacramental purpose. As for the role of morality in such cases, or perhaps even its absence or suspension, Schuon reminds us that it remains
a Divine institution, but the fact that it is so does not prevent its being limited. It must be stated once again that in the majority of cases, moral laws, when transposed outside their ordinary sphere, become symbols and consequently vehicles of knowledge; in fact every virtue is the mark of a conformity with a Divine attitude and therefore an indirect and quasi-existential mode of the knowledge of God, which amounts to saying that whereas a sensible object can be known by the eye, God can be known only by “being”; to know God it is necessary to resemble Him, that is, to conform the microcosm to the Divine Metacosm—and consequently to the macrocosm also—as is expressly taught by the Hesychast doctrine. That having been said, it is necessary strongly to underline the fact that the amorality of the spiritual position is rather a supermorality than a non-morality. (pp.50-51)
Hesychasm, practised within the Eastern Orthodox Church, is a process of going into the self to the extent that the senses are bypassed in a quest to obtain direct, experiential knowledge of God. This “stillness,” or “silence,” moves the individual beyond the boundaries of morality in the sense that if one is to become closer to God then it is necessary to discard the tainted garments of one’s day-to-day humanity. Exoteric morality is suspended, but for the purposes of an esoteric unification with the Divine. Man cannot transcend his body completely, but it is possible to overcome the dichotomy of good and evil temporarily. We shall return to Hesychasm later in the series.
However, morality itself – so crucial to religious conduct within an exoteric context – remains the driving force for higher ends and becomes the underlying imperative for the cosmological symbolism that allows the initiate or contemplative to become one with the Divine Essence. Intellectual and metaphysical reintegration, if you will, by way of moral and theological action. Morality should not be confused with moralism, either, something which reinforces the bigotry and sectarianism associated with all closed religious systems by reducing morality itself to a negative be-all and end-all of spiritual discourse.
Turning now to the controversy which has plagued mankind’s interpretation of evil for many centuries, the solely religious perspective goes no further than insisting that its existence is one of the great mysteries of the cosmos and that it will ultimately be overthrown by the forces of good. If evil is destined to fail, however, as religions such as Christianity so often claim, then surely something must be known about its actual nature? As Schuon contends:
From an esoteric point of view the problem of evil resolves itself into two questions: firstly, why do things created necessarily imply imperfection? and secondly, why do they exist? To the first of these questions the answer is that if there were no imperfection in the Creation nothing would distinguish it from the Creator, or in other words, it would not be effect or manifestation, but Cause or Principle; the answer to the second question is that the Creation (or Manifestation) is necessarily implied in the infinity of the Principle, in the sense that it is so to speak an aspect or consequence of this infinity. This amounts to saying that if the world did not exist the Infinite would not be the Infinite; to be what It is, the Infinite must apparently and symbolically deny Itself, and this denial is achieved in universal Manifestation. (pp.52-53)
The material realm exists because it is part of Being, whilst imperfections such as evil also exist because they are, by definition, part of that same realm’s inherent character. The world is thus created in God’s image and yet is only relative to it in the sense that it is but a secondary manifestation of Divine Perfection. Schuon conveys this metaphysical reality through the use of the formula “Infinite-Manifestation-Imperfection” although, as one might expect, its decidedly earth-shattering implications cannot be grasped in an exoteric regard.
Similarly, predestination is another thorny issue within the field of exoteric theology. Given that our basic understanding of omniscience rests on the idea that God is aware of future events within the context of temporality, then how is it that humans are said to possess free will? The latter, after all, is presumably based on the reality of an individual’s actions and yet somehow it still continues to be predetermined by God. Schuon offers an explanation:
The metaphysical link between predestination and liberty might be illustrated by comparing the latter to a liquid that settles into all the convolutions of a mould, the latter representing predestination: in that case the movement of the liquid is equivalent to the free exercise of our will. If we cannot will anything other than what is predestined for us, this does not prevent our will being what it is, namely, a relatively real participation in its universal prototype; it is precisely by means of this participation that we feel and live our will as being free. (p.54)
The possibilities pertaining to free will, in other words, are themselves included as modes within the “Total Possibility” of the Absolute. Once again, this is very difficult to accept if we confine our understanding of predestination to the exoteric dimension because an esoteric hierarchy of this kind appears to contradict man’s capacity for free and uninhibited action within a moral framework.
The fact that metaphysics and esotericism operate in a universal fashion is simply because they are inextricably bound to a universal order, whilst human reason – be it as philosophy or theology – is part of an exoterically individual order.
The knowledge that one encounters on the individual level, among humans, is also found throughout nature. The activity or passivity one finds in animals, vegetables and minerals corresponds to their particular state and yet this is also true of knowledge:
Humanly speaking it would be absurd to say that gold is more intelligent than copper or that lead has little intelligence, but metaphysically there is nothing ridiculous in such an assertion: gold represents a solar state of knowledge, and it is this, moreover, which permits of its association with spiritual influences and its being thus invested with an eminently sacred character. Needless to say, the object of knowledge or of intelligence is always and by definition the Divine Principle and cannot be anything else, since It is metaphysically the only Reality; but this object or content can vary in form in conformity with the indefinite diversity of the modes and degrees of Intelligence reflected in creatures. (p.56)
Reality, therefore, is relative and those objects which are ultimately part of Absolute substance is differentiated at the level of each individual mode. The size, shape, colour and intelligence of each animal, vegetable and mineral may differ, but the link between them all is existence. Rising to the top of the existential pyramid, Schuon explains, the supreme human initiate is able to synthesise “the whole of existence in his knowledge” and it is through this that he attains universality.
Needless to say, this wider meaning of what Schuon terms “uncreated Intellect” in the superior created being is not accepted within the exoteric domain as the latter bases the entirety of its understanding of the supernatural on Revelation. Immediate knowledge of God, he claims, is largely dismissed and
provides one more example of the opportunism that, on the one hand, denies the reality of the Intellect and on the other hand, denies to those who enjoy the possession of it the right to know what it causes them to know. The reasons behind this denial are, firstly, that direct participation in what may be called the Paracletic faculty is not accessible to everybody, at least in practice, and secondly, that the doctrine of the presence of the uncreated Intellect in the creature would be prejudicial to the faith of the ordinary person, since it seems to run counter to the perspective of merit. (p.58)
Christianity, for example, rigorously confines the notion that one can possess both natural and supernatural aspects to Jesus alone. Notwithstanding, either, the fact that nature can indeed harbour supernatural traits if it happens to accord with the Divine Reality.
That the exoteric is nonetheless capable of accepting that it is possible for an individual soul to gain knowledge of the heavenly realm by way of “beatific vision” surely demonstrates that the acquisition of such higher wisdom is nothing other than the Absolute being aware of Itself. Similarly, this two-way engagement implies that the supernatural is perfectly able and willing to obey the laws of the natural world.
Presenting the quest for knowledge as an example of practical universal truth is one thing, but what of those religions which view it as something dangerous or conceited?
Certain people readily regard transcendent intelligence that is aware of itself as “pride,” as if the fact that there are fools who believe themselves to be intelligent ought to prevent the wise from knowing what they know; pride, intellectual or otherwise, is only possible in the case of the ignorant, who are unaware of their own nothingness, just as humility, at least in the purely psychological sense of the term, is without meaning except for those who believe themselves to be something they are not. (p.60)
As far as Schuon is concerned, the very fact that it is possible for a small number of exceptional beings to ascend to the level of Divine Intellection suggests that it is built into the scheme of Creation.
