This fourth post “from the hiatus,” similarly to the third post, offers some reflections on our study of Taoism, Islam, Judaism, and Christianity—with a brief nod to what Smith terms “the primal religions” and a “final examination”—and some comments on how these four major religions weigh in on two of the topics, ideas, practices, beliefs, etc. that “jumped out” to me—those being a belief in an afterlife, and the practice of meditation. So, again, here we go . . . .
The first topic, then, is the place of belief in an afterlife, beginning with brief reminders about the first three religions we studied, since this topic was addressed in the first post.
Hinduism, you may recall, sees the soul in a process of reincarnation/ transmigration. Since the soul is not dependent on the body it inhabits, it starts with the simplest forms of life until it migrates to a human body, where it continues its journey. Also, as we will see again, reaching the goal of union with God does not depend on one’s religion—as Ramakrishna posited, there are “different paths for different people” but the Everlasting Bliss may be found by following “any of the paths with whole-hearted devotion.” Buddhism posits, on the one hand, that humans have no soul and that death simply brings “existence without consciousness. And yet, on the other hand, common to all modes of Buddhism is the image of “the Crossing,” which I have commented on at least twice and will not pursue further, other than to remind that it suggests that “life’s river” connects two banks—the human and the divine. Confucius, in a sense, inherited early Chinese religions’ emphasis on Heaven, but shifted his own interests toward Earth and, while he didn’t drop the idea of Heaven completely, he had little to say about it.
And now, we come to the place of an afterlife in the beliefs and practices of the final four religions in our study, plus the Primal religions.
The early religions Smith characterizes as Primal, had little to say about an afterlife, other than to speak of a “shadowy existence.” So I’ll move on to the last four religions we studied.
There are many variations within Taoism, but the central theme remains the same: all things are connected. As a living person, you exist as part of the Tao, and when you die, you exist as part of the Tao and remain in perfect harmony with the universe. Belief in reincarnation is a part of some elements of Taoism. It is a vastly complicated process, but over-simply put, spirits can live on after physical death and can migrate to another physical body. Even though human instinct is to see death as a final end, Taoists believe it’s only the next step in an eternal process.
Islam clearly believed in an afterlife, which, on the one hand, is dominated by a Last Judgment where each soul is held accountable for its actions in life. Some move to heaven with its fountains, gardens, rivers, food and drink; others repair to the fiery punishments of hell. And yet, on the other hand, there arose in the Sufi division of Islam (a bit of a surprise to me) a “universalism” that opened itself to “every form” of religion—Muslim, Christian, Jew, Zoroastrian, etc.—as long as it was a practice of a “religion of Love.” This notion—which we saw in Hinduism—will, as we shall see, arise again.
Jewish beliefs in the afterlife are as diverse as Judaism itself and Jewish wisdom offers no definitive answer. On the one hand, our actions, not our specific beliefs, determine our fate, but no concept of Hell exists in Judaism. One strand of Jewish thought sees heaven as a transitory place where souls reside after death until they reunite with their physical bodies at the time when the Messiah comes. Reformed Judaism suggests that we live on through others—as their prayer book puts it, we nourish the future through the influence we have on those who follow us. And finally, for some in Judaism, heaven is not a “gated” community—the righteous of any people and any faith have a place in it—and so universalism re-immerges.
Looking, finally, to Christianity’s belief in an afterlife, one might turn to the words of Jesus as found in Matthew 25:31-46—the account the dividing of the “sheep” from the “goats,” the former to the eternal “kingdom” and the latter to the “everlasting fire.” Some may dispute, as has been done, whether these are the authentic words of Jesus or one among a number of accounts added to the gospel(s) story during the long period of oral transmission or in early writings that we do not have. But to find what has become basic belief and doctrine in Christianity on this issue, one need look no further than, say, the last lines of The Nicene Creed—“I look forward to the resurrection of the deadand the life of the world to come.” The belief that resurrection and eternal life are available only to those of the Christian faith, followers of Jesus, is common to fundamentalists/ evangelicals. But one would need to know that some Protestant liberals take a different stance and have spoken of the Church “Visible” and the Church “Invisible.” The former refers to those who are members of what Smith calls “the Church as an earthly institution.” He also notes that even a Roman Catholic Pope, Pius IX, rejected that view—as do, apparently, the majority of Christians—and said that persons who keep the “natural law . . . written . . . in every human heart, and . . . live honorably and uprightly . . . can attain eternal life.” The Church Invisible, then, includes all who follow as best they can “the lights they have.” For the third time, then, universalism appears again!
The second topic is the practice of meditation in the various religions. Since this was also addressed in the first post, I will just briefly recall its place in the first three religions.
The purpose of meditation in Hinduism is to unite the human spirit with God. A key example is yoga and the familiar lotus position, which is said to be highly conducive to meditation, with the “attention turned inward” toward the final goal of “the mind completely absorbed in God.” All three branches of Buddhism also consider meditation to be important, especially a sect of the Mahayana branch, known as Zen, which has a complicated training process of sitting silently in the lotus position, as long as necessary, until they arrive at the final stage, the ultimate mystical experience. Smith’s coverage of Confucianism doesn’t concentrate on meditation, but other sources offer descriptions of simple meditation methods to “free the ego and get in touch with (one’s) real self.” But Confucian meditation’s goal is not only for self-awareness but also for finding the truth and creating social change.
And now, we’ll look at the role of meditation in the final four—plus the Primal—religions.
Taoism, especially the branch of the yogis (although Smith declines to give this branch a name), believed in the importance of deep meditation—outward impressions stilled, senses withdrawn, breathing controlled—resulting in “sitting with a blank mind,” to which even “the universe surrenders.” Although they had an appreciable core of practitioners, the Taoist yogis made no attempt to publicize themselves and even their writings tended to be “veiled and cryptic.”
The mystics of Islam, called Sufis, sought to purify and spiritualize their faith from the worldliness they believed threatened it. While contemplation of God is a part of every Muslim’s life, most don’t seem to have the time to cultivate the practice of meditation. Sufis, on the other hand, impatiently wanted to encounter God directly in this life and they sought to do so through love, ecstasy, and intuition. For the route of love, they found an archetype in the reciprocal relationship of human love—the lover does not seek without being sought—and so Allah seeks his creatures who approach him, and loves them even more. The ecstatic approach involved being so completely engrossed in their mystical experience that they become “trancelike,” losing consciousness of the world. The third method of intuitive mysticism—which, so it seems to me, is a bit more “dense” than the other two—claims to bring “mental knowledge” through an organ of discernment called “the eye of the heart,” which “clothes” physical objects in “celestial light,” such that the world (while seeking to avoid pantheism) is “God-in-disguise.” That is, unfortunately, as clear as I—or Smith, for that matter—can make this final mystical Sufi approach!
Jewish meditation is not an end in itself, but offers a way, some would suggest, to infuse Judaism with deeper meaning. Reports of meditation experiences are widely found in Jewish sacred texts—e.g. the Torah, the Prophets, the Talmud—and it helps Judaism progress beyond a purely intellectual process into a spiritual practice as well, moving, for example, beneath the intellect to experience the feeling of being at one with creation. Meditation is done both alone and in groups, and both have advantages. Methods include chanting of verses from psalms, Torah, and prayers; stillness and silence; meditation on the names of God, or Hebrew letters; walking, dancing & movement; etc. While meditation is valued, Judaism acknowledges that it isn’t for everyone.
Turning to Christianity, meditation has been and is practiced by many individual Christians and is mentioned in the Bible (both Testaments), but it does not seem to have had a strong traditional or doctrinal role in Protestantism, apart, perhaps, from liturgical churches, such as Anglicans/Episcopalians. There have, of course, been important figures in Christian history noted for their meditative experiences—think of St. Ignatius of Loyola, St. Teresa of Avila, St. Francis de Sales. But, again, meditation has been much more associated with Roman Catholicism—Rosary meditations and Eucharistic meditations outside the context of the Mass, for example—and Eastern Orthodoxy than with the many Protestant denominational expressions of Christianity. And, depending upon your point of view, perhaps that has been a loss.
Finally, among the Primal Religions, Shamans are spiritually gifted men and women who induce trance states in themselves in order to contact the spirit world and help heal the afflicted. Such trances can be induced through chanting, drumming, fasting, and sometimes the use of psychotropic substances. During these trances, Shamans may communicate with spirits to learn how to help heal the body, mind, or soul of a patient, to locate game, or even to predict the future.
In the next and—maybe—final post, we’ll look at the topics of Tradition and Ritual, Egalitarianism, and Paradox as they are practiced and utilized in brief reviews of the first three religions we studied, then in more careful reflections on the last four, plus the Primals. If I haven’t already worn you out, I hope you’ll stay with me!
Sources consulted apart from Houston Smith, The World’s Religions.
4 Responses
Earl, thank you. Of course, your descriptions of Christianity’s complexity re “afterlife” is richer than most of the other traditions. The other traditions have equally complex and subtle variations. I’ll comment only on two-Buddhism & Confucianism/ Taoism.
For an exploration of Buddhism’s richness with regard to “what happens after any of us die”-aka ‘after-[this]life’, I recommend The Tibetan Book of the Dead-trans by Francesca Fremantle w/ commentary by Chögyam Trungpa as well as Thich Nhat Hanh’s Living Buddha, Living Christ.
For the Confucian stream in the Confucian/ Taoist river, it’s good to remember that “Heaven” is one translation of the word “T’ien.” Another translation of that same word is”nature.” While the Taoist stream is more metaphysical, the Confucian stream is more physical/ practical/ political, and the ancestors are presences in the forces that are “Heaven. ” Please forgive me if I missed an earlier post where these things were already discussed! Thank you!!
Thanks for your faithful reading of my meanderings and for your informative and substantive comment. I think I can faithfully say that I have not covered these religions’ beliefs and practices with anything like the breadth or depth that you have at your command. We were limited, deliberately, to Smith’s book for our discussions and I wandered off to a few other sources only when I didn’t find there a satisfying coverage of a topic. Even so, I didn’t have access to the kind of familiarity with other sources–such as your recommendations–as you do. That doesn’t mean my interest in pursuing further understanding will fade away now that we’ve finished the book, thus my deep appreciation for your comments and for your friendship!
Thank you for another great opportunity to reflect on how different groups have tried to capture and connect to some yearning to explain the unexplained. I can’t help wondering why these questions seem so universally troubling.
Thanks, David. You jump on my posts before I even have a chance to place a bit of bait on FB! And I deeply appreciate your faithful reading and comments. I think I do understand why the kinds of questions I’ve tried to address–along with some practices which, perhaps, are not quite so puzzling–are, indeed, troubling to many, partly because most of them once were so for me. I think people have to make a choice about many of these issues–either to accept as truth what is delivered by one’s religion’s claims, to embrace them as mysteries not solvable by human thought or research, or reject them as contradictory to human logic or scientific understanding.My own long and thoughtful journey has encountered most of them along the way.