At this time of post-millennial ferment, it is perhaps legitimate to ask whether contemplatives retain any relevance in our increasingly secular society. Simone Weil thought that a different kind of contemplation is needed today: “…a fresh spring, an invention…almost equivalent to a new revelation of the universe and human destiny.” She insisted on “the miraculous newness “ required of today’s contemplative.

However remote these quiet mystics may seem to us, the modern world needs contemplatives precisely because they refresh and renew the tired old dogmas into which all religions and worldviews lapse over time. Forms of words in ancient liturgies take on a nostalgic potency like some old song, which can obscure the need for mystical, contemplative experience.

Young people in particular are turning away from traditional worship because it seems to offer them no escape from the tyranny of a wholly man-made world. By contrast, the contemplative is the nearest we have to a human bridge between that part of us which creates the fragile infrastructure of our lives, and the higher self which, according to the mystics, lives close to the divine.

Throughout history, the greatest of the contemplatives have been at odds with the Church and other authorities. St John of the Cross was imprisoned because of his support for St Teresa of Avila and her reformed Carmelite order. St Teresa herself, was in constant hot water for her simple-hearted espousal of the poverty of St Francis. The order she created was known as the Bare-footed Carmelites and was deemed by authority to be a step too far, whether shod or not. Both were subsequently canonized, posthumously, of course, and John was made a Doctor of the Church. During their lifetimes, they would undoubtedly have been acutely embarrassed by such august recognition.

In the frantic, modern world we need contemplatives more than ever, even if most of us are not aware of their existence.

Here’s another very interesting emailed quote from Andrew Cohen, arguing that the future does not pre-exist.

The Very Edge of the Possible
I am endlessly compelled by the notion that higher stages or levels of development do not preexist, that is, they are not “given” but are literally created by brave individuals who actually venture into new, uncharted territory, laying down “grooves” that others follow, which eventually become actual new structures or stages. The fact that the future, even at the most subtle metaphysical levels, literally does not yet exist challenges our most fundamental spiritual/religious notions in every possible way, but if we’re ready for it, it can be the source of enormous inspiration and promise. I think potentially what’s the most thrilling for the postmodern self is the discovery that we are literally creating the future, which means we are not separate from the creative principle or God-impulse itself — God is evolving as we evolve. And this moment itself, assuming that one is leaning into it with all of one’s being, reaching for the future, is potentially the very edge of the possible.
Andrew Cohen

I would agree, but add a small rider: it depends on your point of view. For example, C.S. Lewis’s view of free-will was that, since God is outside time, “he” is aware of the outcome of all decisions, past and present. For us, however, at the point of choice, we really do have a set of alternatives and the freedom to go either way, again up to the point where necessity takes control.

I like to look at it from a different angle. Modern computers have a facility called “snap to grid”. On certain blank screens there is an invisible grid of small rectangles. This is the technology behind spreadsheets and CadCam design software. As you prepare a worksheet or a drawing, your work automatically “snaps” into the boundaries set by the hidden grid. If you want, you can reveal the grid, or even eliminate it — but if you do your work tends to become rather messy, unless you are an expert.

The analogy is this: when we act with apparent freedom, our acts automatically, and without our being aware of it, snap to a grid prepared for us. As we become more aware, though, we begin to discern the grid. A completely enlightened person can “turn off” the grid and assume spiritual freedom by becoming united with divine purpose. These are the three stages of awareness which cloud the endless debate over free-will versus determinism. The “snap” stage is when we are ignorant of any determining factors on our actions. The beginning of awareness (illumination), is when we can see the grid and accept its purpose. The third level (unitive contemplation) is when we become one with the grid itself. What most people call freedom is just a blind pursuit of a barrage of impulses and whims conditioned by past events and bodily demands. If things work out, this is freedom; if not, that’s servitude. In truth, there is no difference between them. Real freedom is probably quite rare and is predicated upon an ability to rise above internal and external impulses, which rests on the level of awareness attained by the individual.

Awareness is the contemplative’s dimension. Just as a scientist works in time, trying to verify that what happened yesterday will occur again today, the contemplative works in awareness.

Many people regard the summer solstice as having a spiritual significance, as indeed it has for many religions. Midsummer Day has been a cause for celebration as far back as the building of Stonehenge, some 5000 years ago.

Yet, it’s often tinged with sadness. As the ancient Chinese used to say, “On Midsummer Day, winter is born.”

Strangely, here in England the birds stop singing, usually because they’ve finished nesting. But it all adds to the slight sense of foreboding we feel when the top of the curve is reached, and the rest is all downhill. It’s a little like reaching the age of 40.

Again, the ancients had a cure: “Live in the moment. Take no heed of the morrow.” That may have been possible then, but it’s not so easy nowadays when we’re urged to plan for our pensions in our early twenties — or face “Pensioner Poverty”.

Before I depress you all, let me tell you Adelle has got a much more cheerful piece on the solstice over at Spirit of Place.

This is a preliminary review of National Geographic’s new book, The Gospel of Judas, which contains a translation of the recently-discovered manuscript and three scholarly articles written for a general readership.

I have covered the discovery and recent history of the Gospel in another post, so I just want to throw out a few first impression here.

The main point the press picked up on was the way Jesus regards Judas as a friend, someone who enables him to escape from his mortal body and fulfil his mission on Earth.

From the start, I didn’t think that was a well developed point, especially since Judas apparently took 30 silver coins for his pains. Of course, that may well have been a later addition to strengthen the view that Judas was a devil incarnate. But there’s a far more interesting point.

Judas seems to belong to a Gnostic group of Christians known as Sethians. Jesus is also portrayed as one of their number. They believed that only some people contained the “divine spark” that would take them after bodily death to a higher region called the Barbelo. Those who lacked this spiritual element would perish after death.

These ideas are rehearsed in the Gospel of John, the most spiritual of the four New Testament Gospels and the one with the greatest affinity with Gnosticism. In John, there is famous, much-quoted passage:

“Every branch in me that beareth not fruit he taketh away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he purgeth it that it may bring forth more fruit.”

There are echoes here of a salvationist philosophy as believed by later groups like the Cathars who were known more as heirs to the Gnostics than Rome.

When Jesus tells Judas that he will destroy the “man who clothes me”, Jesus regards that as a great service, not because of atonement or bodily resurrection, but because it frees him to return to the spiritual realm of Barbelo, where “his generation” live. He and Judas don’t belong to the “human generation” who will perish.

This is a very different strand of Christianity, unknown to those who follow what was written by Rome and its apologists. The more information we discover, the more we see a darker and far more spiritual side to Christianity than is generally accepted today.

Books like Holy Blood, Holy Grail and its offshoot, The Da Vinci Code are only reflecting incompletely this new knowledge, which has still to be fully expounded and assimilated into our culture