...Where a seemingly random set of observations may not be so random, after all.
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The moment I saw it, I gasped because I know what it was and somehow understood it.
—How often has that happened to you?—
What did I see? It was an open mouth, carved into a wall, next to the front entrance of a very old building in Europe. More specifically, it was a mail slot, intended for the delivery of messages and small parcels. These can be seen in many “old world” (western) cities throughout the world, even into the Americas; the image below was photographed in Havana, Cuba. That it is a mail slot is clear, but that is not exactly what it means—that is, the symbolism of the open mouth. Generally fashioned as a grotesque or scary image, this symbolizes one of the most ancient of proscriptions: Do Not Steal. The symbolism is backed up by cultural aphorisms that run along the lines of “The righteous hand will come away whole, but a thief may be left with a stump!” Similarly, the so-called Bocca della Verità ,in Rome, Italy, is a thought to represent a proscription against lying.
While my children were growing up, literature had a very important role in our home, cluttered as it is with books and papers and music. Among their first “literary” experiences in school, they explored Greek mythology—aided by the contemporary and popular “Percy Jackson” series. This made me nostalgic: A favorite great Uncle gave me a book of Greek myth stories for Christmas, one year. I read it over and over again. The relative in question had been a classics scholar at Stanford University, and was a bookseller. This similarity in experience—mine and my children’s, decades later—gave me the feeling that most western education, for better or worse, starts with the same materials, the same essential primary reading. This may or may not be accurate, but I felt good that my children were following the same literature ladder that I had been exposed to.
The pitfall of such an education is that it makes assumptions about current generations based on the expectations made on former generations—not to mention that it can serve to limit free thought. Think about it for a moment: Academic writing is not always about presenting new and independent thought, rather it is about building on the thought (and even insisting on the same pathways) of all past generations. Every thesis and dissertation must be supported from the literature that came before it, even if previous literature is erroneous, sometimes owing to a lack of breadth, or carries implicit biases. Or worse, excellent writing of past generations is used to support and lend authority to terrible ideas. Original thinkers can break out of the mold, but not without a fight that includes vigorous viva voce challenges.
I’ve often said to my children, as they worked with reading and writing, exploring universal themes that crop up, “All words are built on all words.” That is to say, our universal life experience themes crop up in every literature and are translated into or expressed through different languages from every region worldwide in every generation.
We started by naming, and from naming, we moved on to practical cooperative communication, thence onward to storytelling. Naming might be a solitary event, but practical communication and storytelling is a communal experience, where context and meaning are conveyed in a group setting. Original meanings can become clouded or distorted as communities become larger or disconnected, owing to migrations, greater distance between localities, greater urban density, and other social and demographic change, evolving or merging language (e.g., Spanglish), or simply the inexorable march of time. The so-called “generation gap” is a descriptive phrase that clearly defines what I mean. When I ask my kids to call me, I always say, “Dial me up.” I actually enjoy the eye rolls this anachronistic expression elicits. Childhood for my kids fell on the cusp of the tilting point away from film cameras to digital and moved seamlessly along in a very rapid innovation leap from cellular flip phone to the smart phone, “a computer in your pocket.” I sometimes worry that my kids lack portions of the cultural reference lexicon I inherited from my parents and grandparents; to me it represents a depth and a history, but who knows if that even should matter to them in their changing world.
This how the Tower of Babel was constructed: People became unmoored from past understandings as they became immersed in newer innovations and technologies. To this day, some ancient technologies continue to persist, farming and writing (albeit, less and less in longhand), among them, as well as cooking, which can be looked on as a rudimentary form of chemistry.
Given a list that includes, licorice root, ginger, peppermint and woodbine, depending on one’s worldview and place in life, one is liable to react to the collection of items differently. The list could be seen as just that, a list of spices and herbs. Two on the list are roots; the others are shrubs. Some might glance at this list and take it for a recipefor a pleasant tea; others might have used these items medicinally, while still others might think they are flavorings for use in cooking, or, at the extreme end of the spectrum, a formula for a potion, or even as tools for magic.
The literature of myth and scripture is made up phrases and formulations that occur and recur. The similarity of Judeo-Christian language formulations with those of contemporaneous Greek literature is not often acknowledged, although there are scholars who have pointed this out. Here is where the Academy can have it’s blind spots; what demarks Greek mythology and history from so-called sacred literature of other traditions, and why should they be siloed away from comparison or examined under different sets of assumptions and standards?
Ritual words, phrases, formulations, images, employed in solitary contemplation or corporate, communal celebration are intended as a multi-dimensional experience. And example of what I mean is encapsulated in a common phrase “thought, word and deed.” Interestingly, though this phrase occurs in Christian prayer books, the complete phrase does not seem to exist, the three terms together, in the biblical canon. The origin of the phrase is actually much older than Greek or Judeo-Christian literature, coming as it does from the earlier Zend Avesta, the primary scripture of the Parsi tradition.
Therefore, O Zarathushtra! …
Make thy own self pure, O righteous man! anyone in the world here below can win purity for his own self, namely, when he cleanses his own self with good thoughts, words,and deeds.
Having good thoughts internally, declaiming those thoughts outwardly in words and embodying, exemplifying the thoughts and words in action, this is what it means to be, to use another familiar ancient term, upright. This could also be thought of as therapy, self-healing, as well as therapeutic outreach to family and greater community. This is the spirit of ubuntu, a modern African humanist philosophy; every individual has a role to play in the health of the community.
I will posit that there is a parallel consideration from the Vedic traditions: yantra (a geometric visualization tool), mantra (a chanted scripture or prayer) and tantra (the embodied practice of what has visualized and vocalized). The yantra, mantra and tantra are one and the same expression, inextricable, though individuals may respond better to one or another of the expressions.
Another parallel can be observed in the more modern Lucumi tradition, formed during the colonial era throughout the Caribbean region, with its earlier roots in West African Yoruba and other African traditions. Where the consecrated batá drums call the orishas to join and guide the congregation, call and response songs are sung to the sacred rhythms of the drums, and the related dance forms constitute a single, simultaneous flow of spiritual communication. The drums, the song and the dance together are a single, communal sacred expression, the sacred work of the people.
I recently took notice of the sak yant tradition of Thailand. The sak yant are a species of highly complex yantras, arising from what I would call a syncretic relationship between ancient animism and Buddhism. Modern Thai people view these symbols as magic; most do not understand the meanings of these yantras. These yantras make popular tattoos, which are administered by monks trained in the specifics of the mantras that accompany the yantras. This is the image I saw:
When I first saw the image, I understood it to mean energy emanating from the mindful being, which may be partly correct. The image is one version of what is called unalom, and it’s actual meaning is path to/of enlightenment. This yant has it’s own tone and can be expressed in conjunction with many mantras, but your life is the actual tantra.
Unfortunately, esoteric images like these are all too frequently treated solely as “magic”, as good luck charms by those who wear them, rather than the intended use as a meditation tool or an aspect of, to quote philosopher Iris Murdoch, “a moral philosophy” that “should be inhabited” by the individual. We can accept blessings conferred on us, but do we harm ourselves when we (1) don’t understand the meaning of a blessing, (2) don’t follow up the blessing with appropriate action or (3) knowingly ask someone else to act on our behalf, thus avoiding engagement? To quote Murdoch again, “Prayer is properly not a petition,” but these days, it seems almost exclusively thought of in that way.
The inclination to give an intercessor, priest, monk, magician, shaman or guru that much power has perhaps given rise to every single example of spiritual materialism and idol worship that has ever existed. That superstition exists in the modern world – and is sometimes actively taught to people by an authoritarian few – should give us all pause. We cannot consign to others the maintenance of our moral character. Charms and magic do not make such work go away. This is why the Buddha did not want people to worship him or indeed anyone else.
That said, it is true that everyone has a role to play in the life of others, and that is the “seen and unseen” aspect of living. There are so many of us in the world just for that reason, I believe – so that we can be for others, to help others and support others, as a chain of support network that has no beginning and no end.
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During the Advent season, I enjoy revisiting the Isaiah writings in the Bible. The notion of “uprightness” stands out to me. The texts of Isaiah speak about making the crooked straight, and rough places plain. What does this mean? Does it indicate bulldozing mountains and rolling out a concrete highway for the Divine Majesty? I think not.
Rather, I look on this is a prescription for self- and communal-healing. Just as the unalom symbol illustrates the spiritual journey, each person’s conscious life is an exercise in alignment and/or realignment. How many of you remember being told by a parent, “You’d better straighten up your act”? I believe this is exactly what is intended; we are the crooked places that need to be straightened and smoothed and tidied as we move through all the stages of our life, and only we can do that work. When we “straighten up our act”, we become more mindful, and thereby become more open to the Divine, and hopefully more engaged and connected to what is happening in the world around us.
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The season of Advent has now come to it’s conclusion. We are either ready for what comes next, or not. The shortest day is now concluded, and the Dedication has begun.
Is your home ready to receive a Holy Guest? Are you upright in thought, word and deed? Is your pathway aligned so the Guest can reach you with fluency and ease, and celebrate fully with you?
In this changing season, may we all move from darkness to light. May we help one another along the narrow roads, tidying and straightening as we go. May our mindfulness and care for one another be the only gift required to make us whole, and may peace visit you and remain with you, now and always.
Amen.
