Why are we mortals always fighting? Though we pray for the day when strife will cease and wars will be no more, peace remains a far-off dream that shows little sign of coming true.
Conflict has bedevilled the human race right down the ages. One of the major troubles seems to be that mankind is roughly divided into two categories, two camps, factions, parties, call them what you will, they always represent the same pair of opposites — the haves and the have-nots; the people who are in and the people who are out; the people who are sleek, self-satisfied and secure, and those who are poor, miserable, deprived and defeated. Throughout our human history, these two factions have been at enmity; threatening, attacking, defending.
Defeating Reactions
The primitive instinct to protect what we have, or to struggle and fight for what we have not, has created an enemy complex, from which almost all of us suffer to a greater or lesser degree. Through much bitter experience, we know that whether it be in conflict between ourselves and our neighbours, or warfare between classes, races or countries, the enemy attitude is destructive to anyone who cultivates it, and can only arouse and increase enmity. To harbour hate and bitterness, sets up an irritant within the system, which gnaws and corrodes our very being. The effect of our hostility upon our opponent is to provoke a reaction of revenge and increased antagonism. To pit force against force does not settle our troubles in any permanent way, and often produces a host of other problems.
Almost two thousand years ago, the One we have called the Prince of Peace made some astounding statements about enemies and the way to deal with them. Many of us have fallen into the mistake of regarding his precepts as advocating extreme passivity. This is because we have not penetrated to their deeper meaning; indeed, we cannot do so until we understand something of the underlying science that prompted Him not merely to say these things, but actually to do them.
The method of dealing with enemies which he advocated and practised was the very opposite of weakness; it could only be accomplished by Power.
Power through Focus
This was the secret of Christ: He made himself a focus of Power. He was a master of Power. He lived surrounded by enemies, all thirsting for his blood; but by that convincing Power, the authority within himself, he passed through their midst, unscathed, day by day, taking his own way, undeterred by their malice.
We have not developed that power which comes from focus. Christ’s whole life was focused in purpose - ‘I came not to do my own will but the Will of Him that sent me’. It may well be said of Him that he was at one with the principles at the heart of the Cosmos - that system of vital, creative order that constitutes a universe - something that turns as one. Through his singleness of purpose, he had become so one with the Spirit of Life he called ‘Father’ that he was able to bring the Power of Life through himself and direct it.
But most of us are unfocused, indefinite in our aims, often inwardly in a state of indecision and conflict. Our lives are not based on any definite principle, and minus that point of focus we exist in a kind of blur. A hazy, indefinite film in a projector makes for lack of definition on the screen and exactly the same result is true with ourselves. This is why, when faced with an awkward situation, we are so often unconvincing, and either make a show of force, or, feeling weak, resort to some form of self-protection.
Christ made no attempt to protect himself. He convincingly proved by his conduct that the mere saving of himself from suffering and dying was alien to his purpose. Such was his Power that force could not overwhelm him until he chose to give himself up to his enemies.
Christ’s secret of peace-making can be summed up in the words: Have Power in yourselves. Should we have doubts about our being able to possess that inner Power that can triumph without force, we have that well-nigh incredible assurance: ‘Greater works than these shall ye do’.
Ian Fearn
© New Renasence Trust (Registered Charity No 256640)
Wednesday, 9 December 2009
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
Kingdom of Stillness
It was a wise man who said: ‘Commune with thine own heart … and be still’
‘... Be still, Know I am God’
Psalm 46 verse 10.
Noise is a predominant characteristic of our civilisation today. From early morning until far into the night our ears are bombarded with raucous sounds: screaming jets, squealing brakes, the clashes and crashes that are now the inescapable accompaniment to daily existence, added to it all the ubiquitous mobile phone!*
To endure this crescendo of cacophony it is almost inevitable that we unconsciously resort to nature’s way of escape: Our senses become dulled. We see an extreme instance of how this happens in the case of the riveter whose ear-drums often actually thicken to relieve the strain caused by the shuddering clatter of the pneumatic drill.
Although toughening ourselves may seem to make life more tolerable, it is really only making matters worse! Indeed, our growing insensitivity to noise is no doubt one of the causes of the increasing din of our modern world, and may explain why modern music has to be amplified to such painful proportions! It looks as though we, as a race, are reaching the unfortunate condition of being both noisy and deaf!
This dulling of our senses has further disadvantages, as it tends to rob us of some of the finest of Life’s delights. Since noise, like any form of sound, is a matter of vibration, it follows that by building up resistance against unpleasant noises we, at the same time, make it increasingly difficult to register the more delicate vibrations. By toughening the mechanism which should be finely tuned, we cut ourselves off from the refining beauties of Life.
Noise and Neurosis
It is encouraging that we are seeking a remedy for the nerve-destroying din that assails us on every hand, and some prohibitive measures are being taken to reduce it, at least in its more avoidable forms. Noise is not just a public nuisance to be dealt with by legislation. If we are really out to tackle this problem, we should not be content with mere attempts to alleviate the discomforts it inflicts on our long-suffering senses - welcome as they most certainly are. We should set out to penetrate deeper; by doing so we shall without doubt discover that the modern pandemonium is symptomatic of a severe condition of conflict within the noise-makers themselves. Indeed, neurosis is as much the cause of noise as its result. This inner discord leads to various forms of outer dissonance. The blinding kaleidoscope of ‘bright lights’ associated with night-clubs, horror films and so on, all point to man’s discordant state.
Noise is therefore connected with disharmony, psychologically as well as physically. It may not even take the form of sound at all. Many people have, as a result of acute emotional disturbance, experienced a state of inner storm, accompanied by darkness and a deafening din, while sunlight and quiet prevailed, entirely unperceived, in the world outside.
The fact that some of us are beginning to find this increasingly noisy world an unbearable place to live in may actually prove to be a blessing. Only inasmuch as some ill causes us to suffer, do we see the need to deal with it and find a remedy. It would be fortunate if the hubbub around us brings us face to face, not only with the problem of the chaotic conditions outside, but with the conditions of disharmony within ourselves.
Inner Stillness
The stress of modern existence is aggravating our restlessness and we are ceaselessly running to and fro, always hurrying. But today most of us have hustled and pushed ourselves and each other around so exhaustingly that in desperation we are beginning to discover, perhaps for the first time, our need for and the value of quiet - not merely the absence of noise outside, but a quality of inner stillness.
It was a wise man who said: ‘Commune with thine own heart ….. and be still’. Probably it is only when we are still that we begin to understand our own inner nature. And as we are so seldom still, we know very little of even our own spirit, and much less of the greater Spirit outside and beyond us. It is only through our own spirit that we can reach out to the great dynamic Life that gave us birth and sustains us. And unless we can contact that Source, we inevitably become tired, jangled, irritable and ultimately defeated.
In the noisy world of today, there is a great need for us to focus our thought on the values of the Spirit. This means that we must find ways and means to get away from the fuss and stress of existence, to contact that essential Life, that we may learn to find its power, not merely for ourselves, but through ourselves for others and for the world.
The first step is to learn to be still; still, not only from the outer noise, but from the inner turmoil of our chaotic emotions, so that we can realise the values that are not of this world. The realm of those values has aptly been called the Kingdom of Heaven, for heaven means harmony. This kingdom is so unfamiliar to our discordant selves, that we have sometimes almost doubted that it is real at all. Its values are those that ‘eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man’.
Sensitivity
It is when we begin to discover our spirit that we also begin to know that what the eye sees is not all that there is, for it can only register a very limited rate of vibration. What the ear hears is only just a suggestion of the vast range of sounds beyond our capacity to record. Recognising these truths, we realise that however wonderful the body may be, however beautiful its mechanisms, it is but an elementary teacher. It can only go a little way into the heights and depths of Life.
The body is merely a part of our kindergarten education; the five senses are only the equipment whereby we are trained for the higher life of the Kingdom which is invisible and endures. Our kindergarten lessons may soon be over and our earthly bodies transcended. But through the refining of our limited senses, we may develop the sensitivity that can here and now discern what ‘eye has not seen, nor ear heard’.
Only as we believe it, can we hope to realise this Kingdom. Only as we call it forth, can it ever manifest. It is in the quiet that we can contact this invisible realm. And as we learn to commune with our own spirit in stillness, in the silence, we shall progressively discover and translate its values to a distressed and noisy world.
* ‘mobile phone’ added in this present edition
Ian Fearn
© New Renasence Trust (Registered Charity No 256640)
‘... Be still, Know I am God’
Psalm 46 verse 10.
Noise is a predominant characteristic of our civilisation today. From early morning until far into the night our ears are bombarded with raucous sounds: screaming jets, squealing brakes, the clashes and crashes that are now the inescapable accompaniment to daily existence, added to it all the ubiquitous mobile phone!*
To endure this crescendo of cacophony it is almost inevitable that we unconsciously resort to nature’s way of escape: Our senses become dulled. We see an extreme instance of how this happens in the case of the riveter whose ear-drums often actually thicken to relieve the strain caused by the shuddering clatter of the pneumatic drill.
Although toughening ourselves may seem to make life more tolerable, it is really only making matters worse! Indeed, our growing insensitivity to noise is no doubt one of the causes of the increasing din of our modern world, and may explain why modern music has to be amplified to such painful proportions! It looks as though we, as a race, are reaching the unfortunate condition of being both noisy and deaf!
This dulling of our senses has further disadvantages, as it tends to rob us of some of the finest of Life’s delights. Since noise, like any form of sound, is a matter of vibration, it follows that by building up resistance against unpleasant noises we, at the same time, make it increasingly difficult to register the more delicate vibrations. By toughening the mechanism which should be finely tuned, we cut ourselves off from the refining beauties of Life.
Noise and Neurosis
It is encouraging that we are seeking a remedy for the nerve-destroying din that assails us on every hand, and some prohibitive measures are being taken to reduce it, at least in its more avoidable forms. Noise is not just a public nuisance to be dealt with by legislation. If we are really out to tackle this problem, we should not be content with mere attempts to alleviate the discomforts it inflicts on our long-suffering senses - welcome as they most certainly are. We should set out to penetrate deeper; by doing so we shall without doubt discover that the modern pandemonium is symptomatic of a severe condition of conflict within the noise-makers themselves. Indeed, neurosis is as much the cause of noise as its result. This inner discord leads to various forms of outer dissonance. The blinding kaleidoscope of ‘bright lights’ associated with night-clubs, horror films and so on, all point to man’s discordant state.
Noise is therefore connected with disharmony, psychologically as well as physically. It may not even take the form of sound at all. Many people have, as a result of acute emotional disturbance, experienced a state of inner storm, accompanied by darkness and a deafening din, while sunlight and quiet prevailed, entirely unperceived, in the world outside.
The fact that some of us are beginning to find this increasingly noisy world an unbearable place to live in may actually prove to be a blessing. Only inasmuch as some ill causes us to suffer, do we see the need to deal with it and find a remedy. It would be fortunate if the hubbub around us brings us face to face, not only with the problem of the chaotic conditions outside, but with the conditions of disharmony within ourselves.
Inner Stillness
The stress of modern existence is aggravating our restlessness and we are ceaselessly running to and fro, always hurrying. But today most of us have hustled and pushed ourselves and each other around so exhaustingly that in desperation we are beginning to discover, perhaps for the first time, our need for and the value of quiet - not merely the absence of noise outside, but a quality of inner stillness.
It was a wise man who said: ‘Commune with thine own heart ….. and be still’. Probably it is only when we are still that we begin to understand our own inner nature. And as we are so seldom still, we know very little of even our own spirit, and much less of the greater Spirit outside and beyond us. It is only through our own spirit that we can reach out to the great dynamic Life that gave us birth and sustains us. And unless we can contact that Source, we inevitably become tired, jangled, irritable and ultimately defeated.
In the noisy world of today, there is a great need for us to focus our thought on the values of the Spirit. This means that we must find ways and means to get away from the fuss and stress of existence, to contact that essential Life, that we may learn to find its power, not merely for ourselves, but through ourselves for others and for the world.
The first step is to learn to be still; still, not only from the outer noise, but from the inner turmoil of our chaotic emotions, so that we can realise the values that are not of this world. The realm of those values has aptly been called the Kingdom of Heaven, for heaven means harmony. This kingdom is so unfamiliar to our discordant selves, that we have sometimes almost doubted that it is real at all. Its values are those that ‘eye has not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man’.
Sensitivity
It is when we begin to discover our spirit that we also begin to know that what the eye sees is not all that there is, for it can only register a very limited rate of vibration. What the ear hears is only just a suggestion of the vast range of sounds beyond our capacity to record. Recognising these truths, we realise that however wonderful the body may be, however beautiful its mechanisms, it is but an elementary teacher. It can only go a little way into the heights and depths of Life.
The body is merely a part of our kindergarten education; the five senses are only the equipment whereby we are trained for the higher life of the Kingdom which is invisible and endures. Our kindergarten lessons may soon be over and our earthly bodies transcended. But through the refining of our limited senses, we may develop the sensitivity that can here and now discern what ‘eye has not seen, nor ear heard’.
Only as we believe it, can we hope to realise this Kingdom. Only as we call it forth, can it ever manifest. It is in the quiet that we can contact this invisible realm. And as we learn to commune with our own spirit in stillness, in the silence, we shall progressively discover and translate its values to a distressed and noisy world.
* ‘mobile phone’ added in this present edition
Ian Fearn
© New Renasence Trust (Registered Charity No 256640)
Monday, 7 December 2009
Is There a Purpose?
A man without a purpose is like a ship without a rudder, a bird without wings. There is sometimes the idea today that there is no purpose in life. The old religious belief that God had a purpose in creating the world and man, and has put us here to work out this purpose, is now no longer widely endorsed, and many astronomers and other scientists go so far as to deny that there is any purpose at all behind this marvellous universe with its vast and varied assemblage of living things.
A gloomy prospect confronts us when we entertain such a depressing idea, for it also involves assuming that our life on the planet is nothing more than a chance incident. This makes the present very pointless, and the future is blank indeed; and though we may wish and want, all our desires are inevitably bound by the five feeble feelers we call our senses, through which alone we vainly try to achieve fulfilment and happiness.
But when we look at the marvels of the nature world around us, and remember that everything on our planet originated in the muddy depths of some primeval ocean, can we still complacently say that it all came about by chance; that there is no purpose behind it, however inscrutable that purpose may be?
When we consider the incredible powers of modern man, we must admit that, though in many respects he is far from great, compared to his muddy beginnings he is almost a god. Is all this majestic development just a chance achievement?
The Principle within Creation
No doubt, most of us no longer believe in some anthropomorphic deity, who imposed a plan on his creation from the outside. But that does not preclude the concept of a dynamic Principle within creation which expresses itself in movement and growth towards some form of fulfilment. Some causal Principle must surely have been at work in all phases of creation, right from the very lowliest; and when it comes to man, he has actually a witness of it within himself. What is it but the activity of this Principle that inspires him to achievement, yet makes him ever discontented with the object when it is gained, and urges him on to some new and better attainment? That dynamic inspiration that stirs within him is the motion of his spirit, and if he learns to recognise and follow its inner prompting, it will gradually reveal to him where he belongs, where he came from and his pathway to fulfil his destiny.
The Spirit of Life is always urging us onward. If we do not respond and move with it, that Spirit is frustrated. Its striving within us is witness that there is something more beyond—something ‘towards which the whole creation moves’.
No Final Goal
What is the goal and what will the finished product be like? We have not the ghost of a notion. The earth is still young, and man has hardly begun. Anyway, there can be no finished product in the creative progression of Life, and the map that man has to make for himself has no material boundaries, no measurements but infinity. All the past of the human race was but a faltering beginning; what we have before us - if we will but learn to release our creative potential – can be greater, grander, and infinitely better than has ever been up to now.
‘All creation groans and travails’, said St Paul, until Life’s purpose is achieved within man. Truly Life has a purpose, and we are projections from that purpose. We only become aware of any direction in creation inasmuch as we develop some purpose in our living. Indeed, purpose has no reality, except to the purposeful person.
Does art mean anything to anyone who has no artistry awake in his own being? He can look at all the masterpieces of the world, and yet see nothing of their quality. Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder, and if he does not see it, it is unreal to him; non-existent so far as he is concerned. As soon as he begins to develop some sense of artistry, some desire for beauty, then a whole new world opens out. In the same way, it is not until we know our own need of purpose, and begin to develop some purposive quality in ourselves, that we can know anything of the purpose of Life in us.
Proving Life’s Purpose
The first step towards living in terms of this purpose is simple faith in the Spirit of Life. The word ‘purpose’ comes from pro-ponere - ‘to place in front’, and the person who would prove Life’s purpose in him/herself uses every opportunity to place Life’s Principles in a position of power through their own make-up and circumstances.
This means that they take some definite, practical means to be a fit instrument through which Life can work. Not aiming at some distant goal of abstract perfection, but concentrating on first mastering some practical line, no matter what, so long as it is something through which a means can be made for Life to prove its power. If someone should wish to be a great athlete and aims to excel at the high jump, he does not waste his time and energy in disappointing himself by attempting the maximum height immediately. So, it is with our desire to build ourselves into purposeful being. We must turn our wishes into work, which means training ourselves in ways within our means of accomplishment now.
Life is able to prove its power through us in the quite commonplace affairs of our everyday lives, so long as we infuse them with a vital interest. Interest focuses on all our parts and powers in the work upon which we are engaged. The person with a vital interest does not confine his/her interest merely to one phase of life; rather by meeting every circumstance with this welcoming spirit. This is the spontaneous yet purposeful quality that makes living a voyage of discovery, and as we grow in Livingness, the purpose of Life will unfold.
Ian Fearn
© New Renasence Trust (Registered Charity No 256640)
A gloomy prospect confronts us when we entertain such a depressing idea, for it also involves assuming that our life on the planet is nothing more than a chance incident. This makes the present very pointless, and the future is blank indeed; and though we may wish and want, all our desires are inevitably bound by the five feeble feelers we call our senses, through which alone we vainly try to achieve fulfilment and happiness.
But when we look at the marvels of the nature world around us, and remember that everything on our planet originated in the muddy depths of some primeval ocean, can we still complacently say that it all came about by chance; that there is no purpose behind it, however inscrutable that purpose may be?
When we consider the incredible powers of modern man, we must admit that, though in many respects he is far from great, compared to his muddy beginnings he is almost a god. Is all this majestic development just a chance achievement?
The Principle within Creation
No doubt, most of us no longer believe in some anthropomorphic deity, who imposed a plan on his creation from the outside. But that does not preclude the concept of a dynamic Principle within creation which expresses itself in movement and growth towards some form of fulfilment. Some causal Principle must surely have been at work in all phases of creation, right from the very lowliest; and when it comes to man, he has actually a witness of it within himself. What is it but the activity of this Principle that inspires him to achievement, yet makes him ever discontented with the object when it is gained, and urges him on to some new and better attainment? That dynamic inspiration that stirs within him is the motion of his spirit, and if he learns to recognise and follow its inner prompting, it will gradually reveal to him where he belongs, where he came from and his pathway to fulfil his destiny.
The Spirit of Life is always urging us onward. If we do not respond and move with it, that Spirit is frustrated. Its striving within us is witness that there is something more beyond—something ‘towards which the whole creation moves’.
No Final Goal
What is the goal and what will the finished product be like? We have not the ghost of a notion. The earth is still young, and man has hardly begun. Anyway, there can be no finished product in the creative progression of Life, and the map that man has to make for himself has no material boundaries, no measurements but infinity. All the past of the human race was but a faltering beginning; what we have before us - if we will but learn to release our creative potential – can be greater, grander, and infinitely better than has ever been up to now.
‘All creation groans and travails’, said St Paul, until Life’s purpose is achieved within man. Truly Life has a purpose, and we are projections from that purpose. We only become aware of any direction in creation inasmuch as we develop some purpose in our living. Indeed, purpose has no reality, except to the purposeful person.
Does art mean anything to anyone who has no artistry awake in his own being? He can look at all the masterpieces of the world, and yet see nothing of their quality. Beauty is always in the eye of the beholder, and if he does not see it, it is unreal to him; non-existent so far as he is concerned. As soon as he begins to develop some sense of artistry, some desire for beauty, then a whole new world opens out. In the same way, it is not until we know our own need of purpose, and begin to develop some purposive quality in ourselves, that we can know anything of the purpose of Life in us.
Proving Life’s Purpose
The first step towards living in terms of this purpose is simple faith in the Spirit of Life. The word ‘purpose’ comes from pro-ponere - ‘to place in front’, and the person who would prove Life’s purpose in him/herself uses every opportunity to place Life’s Principles in a position of power through their own make-up and circumstances.
This means that they take some definite, practical means to be a fit instrument through which Life can work. Not aiming at some distant goal of abstract perfection, but concentrating on first mastering some practical line, no matter what, so long as it is something through which a means can be made for Life to prove its power. If someone should wish to be a great athlete and aims to excel at the high jump, he does not waste his time and energy in disappointing himself by attempting the maximum height immediately. So, it is with our desire to build ourselves into purposeful being. We must turn our wishes into work, which means training ourselves in ways within our means of accomplishment now.
Life is able to prove its power through us in the quite commonplace affairs of our everyday lives, so long as we infuse them with a vital interest. Interest focuses on all our parts and powers in the work upon which we are engaged. The person with a vital interest does not confine his/her interest merely to one phase of life; rather by meeting every circumstance with this welcoming spirit. This is the spontaneous yet purposeful quality that makes living a voyage of discovery, and as we grow in Livingness, the purpose of Life will unfold.
Ian Fearn
© New Renasence Trust (Registered Charity No 256640)
Sunday, 6 December 2009
The Pursuit of Happiness
All through the ages, man has been chasing happiness, but the way in which it comes and goes in our lives remains, for the most part, a mystery!
Some have found the pursuit of happiness so futile in a world beset with worry and fear, suspicion and strife, that they have deferred the fulfilment of happiness to a future heaven. Others confine the quest exclusively to earth: ‘Let us eat, drink and be merry today, tomorrow is a long way off. We want our happiness now!’ One thing is clear - wherever we hope to find it, we know we cannot do without it, or life would become a misnomer, and existence an endurance test with the dice heavily weighted against us.
What is happiness? Who can define it? Can riches or prosperity confer it, or can power possess it? None of these can ensure happiness! The word itself gives us a clue to the secret of its elusive quality. It is derived from ‘hap’, and hap means chance, something that cannot be fixed as here or there; it cannot be found ready-made or fabricated by any means. Happiness seems to come by chance; indeed, happiness just happens!
Try to hold it and it will vanish; perpetuate it and we lose it. Happiness is a beautiful thing, the flight of Life in its passing through time. The pursuit of happiness always defeats its object; it is on the wing before our clumsy efforts can check its flight! As well might we hope to secure a butterfly with a harpoon!
Yet many of us spend a large proportion of our time and strength in this worthless occupation. And if happiness does not come our way we are disappointed, even resentful. ‘Why is happiness denied me?’ we complain and blame a cruel fate that has robbed us of something which gives zest to life. We become depressed without it - happiness is to the soul what oxygen is to the body.
Life’s Invitation
What then is the secret of happiness? To us on earth, it is an elusive pleasure; it but mocks anyone who tries to hold it to the earth, and certainly, it is not a commodity that can be purchased with carnal currency! Happiness is a condition that is earned through response to the magic of the Spirit of Life.
Life is a very lovely thing; a beautiful becoming - never fixed never final. Anyone who would share it to the full must attune his whole being to its quickening vibrations. Happiness is found through sensitive response to Life.
Ian Fearn
© New Renasence Trust (Registered Charity No 256640)
Some have found the pursuit of happiness so futile in a world beset with worry and fear, suspicion and strife, that they have deferred the fulfilment of happiness to a future heaven. Others confine the quest exclusively to earth: ‘Let us eat, drink and be merry today, tomorrow is a long way off. We want our happiness now!’ One thing is clear - wherever we hope to find it, we know we cannot do without it, or life would become a misnomer, and existence an endurance test with the dice heavily weighted against us.
What is happiness? Who can define it? Can riches or prosperity confer it, or can power possess it? None of these can ensure happiness! The word itself gives us a clue to the secret of its elusive quality. It is derived from ‘hap’, and hap means chance, something that cannot be fixed as here or there; it cannot be found ready-made or fabricated by any means. Happiness seems to come by chance; indeed, happiness just happens!
Try to hold it and it will vanish; perpetuate it and we lose it. Happiness is a beautiful thing, the flight of Life in its passing through time. The pursuit of happiness always defeats its object; it is on the wing before our clumsy efforts can check its flight! As well might we hope to secure a butterfly with a harpoon!
Yet many of us spend a large proportion of our time and strength in this worthless occupation. And if happiness does not come our way we are disappointed, even resentful. ‘Why is happiness denied me?’ we complain and blame a cruel fate that has robbed us of something which gives zest to life. We become depressed without it - happiness is to the soul what oxygen is to the body.
Life’s Invitation
What then is the secret of happiness? To us on earth, it is an elusive pleasure; it but mocks anyone who tries to hold it to the earth, and certainly, it is not a commodity that can be purchased with carnal currency! Happiness is a condition that is earned through response to the magic of the Spirit of Life.
Life is a very lovely thing; a beautiful becoming - never fixed never final. Anyone who would share it to the full must attune his whole being to its quickening vibrations. Happiness is found through sensitive response to Life.
Ian Fearn
© New Renasence Trust (Registered Charity No 256640)
Saturday, 5 December 2009
What Kind of Love?
Ian Fearn was an Anglican priest who passed to spirit in 1957 and I shall be publishing various writings of his over the next few weeks. These are the words of Cyril Scott who knew him well: "Ian Fearn stands out in this troubled century as a unique personality, an inspired thinker and an altruist in the noblest sense of that word. Yet although he has now gone from the earth plane, we who enjoyed the privilege of knowing him in his physical form are confident that he will inspire the continuance of the work he started, and will continue to watch over it from the Spirit planes where he now has his being."
His writings continue to be published by The New Renasence Trust to whom I am indebted for permission to reproduce some of them in this blog.
LOVE IS AN OMNIBUS WORD. It covers a vast range of human relationship, for which the Greeks, for instance, had different names. The evangelist, John, was referring to the highest form of love, agape, when he said: ‘There is no fear in love; perfect love casteth out fear’. In much of our love for others there is fear - fear of loss and fear of separation.
What kind of love is it that we have for the person from whom we dread to be separated; it may be a husband, a wife, children, parent or friend? Why do we fear separation from them? Is it because they constitute some part of our ego, and we would therefore feel depleted and adrift without them?
Surely if we cannot live without the visible presence of another, there must be something wrong with our so-called love. If we have really begun to love - not merely to have affection, or to respond to sexual attraction, but to love – then we have begun to Live. Indeed, Love in its highest meaning is synonymous with Life.
If we really love anyone we Live with them. This does not mean that we demand their physical presence. For we know that Love is essentially of the Spirit, and that physical absence is not spiritual separation.
To take an analogy: We have learned through our everyday use of radio and television that there is an invisible connection between the transmitting station and the set in our room. They may be many miles apart, many walls and other barriers seemingly obstruct, and there appears to be no way through; yet those waves somehow find a way. Love is at least as sure in its working as the radio wave. The form of the loved one may be far off, but Love will find a way, though distance may seem to divide. Separation is the deceptiveness of existence, where space is an assumed certainty. Today even matter-of-fact science is causing us to change our old ideas about space and time. In any case, they only seem to exist to our five mortal senses; they do not exist in the realm of Life, and therefore not where there is Love.
Where there is Love, we can rest assured that there is actually no separation.
Here again we come to our question: What kind of love have we for the person without whom we say we cannot live? Do we desire to have them near at hand, at our beck and call, so that we can depend on them to make up for our own deficiencies, or to gratify us in some way or other? If we cannot do without the physical presence of the one we say we love, we can be sure that we have not yet known the Love that alone can bridge the gulf of separation.
When we come to think of it, the root of the trouble is really in the self that says: ‘I cannot do without the one I care for so dearly’. How much do we genuinely care for them if we demand that they always be with us? It takes two sides to make a marriage, or a friendship, but unless each side can prove they are sufficient of an entity to have enough life to do without raids upon the other’s vitality, they can just obliterate the word ‘Love’ from their vocabulary.
Once we learn to love, we shall have no cause to worry.
And this is true, even when we have to face what we most dread - the apparent separation of death. Though the poet says: ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’, surely it is even better to have so loved that we cannot lose.
It is only the power of the Love ‘that seeketh not her own’ that can triumph over the widespread fear of destruction so prevalent in the world today. For even if our bodies should be blown to pieces, the substance that Love has built will prove indestructible. We and our loved ones can rest assured that the consciousness we have made in the quality of Love is invincible; and in this Love there is no separation.
© New Renasence Trust (Registered Charity No 256640)
His writings continue to be published by The New Renasence Trust to whom I am indebted for permission to reproduce some of them in this blog.
LOVE IS AN OMNIBUS WORD. It covers a vast range of human relationship, for which the Greeks, for instance, had different names. The evangelist, John, was referring to the highest form of love, agape, when he said: ‘There is no fear in love; perfect love casteth out fear’. In much of our love for others there is fear - fear of loss and fear of separation.
What kind of love is it that we have for the person from whom we dread to be separated; it may be a husband, a wife, children, parent or friend? Why do we fear separation from them? Is it because they constitute some part of our ego, and we would therefore feel depleted and adrift without them?
Surely if we cannot live without the visible presence of another, there must be something wrong with our so-called love. If we have really begun to love - not merely to have affection, or to respond to sexual attraction, but to love – then we have begun to Live. Indeed, Love in its highest meaning is synonymous with Life.
If we really love anyone we Live with them. This does not mean that we demand their physical presence. For we know that Love is essentially of the Spirit, and that physical absence is not spiritual separation.
To take an analogy: We have learned through our everyday use of radio and television that there is an invisible connection between the transmitting station and the set in our room. They may be many miles apart, many walls and other barriers seemingly obstruct, and there appears to be no way through; yet those waves somehow find a way. Love is at least as sure in its working as the radio wave. The form of the loved one may be far off, but Love will find a way, though distance may seem to divide. Separation is the deceptiveness of existence, where space is an assumed certainty. Today even matter-of-fact science is causing us to change our old ideas about space and time. In any case, they only seem to exist to our five mortal senses; they do not exist in the realm of Life, and therefore not where there is Love.
Where there is Love, we can rest assured that there is actually no separation.
Here again we come to our question: What kind of love have we for the person without whom we say we cannot live? Do we desire to have them near at hand, at our beck and call, so that we can depend on them to make up for our own deficiencies, or to gratify us in some way or other? If we cannot do without the physical presence of the one we say we love, we can be sure that we have not yet known the Love that alone can bridge the gulf of separation.
When we come to think of it, the root of the trouble is really in the self that says: ‘I cannot do without the one I care for so dearly’. How much do we genuinely care for them if we demand that they always be with us? It takes two sides to make a marriage, or a friendship, but unless each side can prove they are sufficient of an entity to have enough life to do without raids upon the other’s vitality, they can just obliterate the word ‘Love’ from their vocabulary.
Once we learn to love, we shall have no cause to worry.
And this is true, even when we have to face what we most dread - the apparent separation of death. Though the poet says: ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’, surely it is even better to have so loved that we cannot lose.
It is only the power of the Love ‘that seeketh not her own’ that can triumph over the widespread fear of destruction so prevalent in the world today. For even if our bodies should be blown to pieces, the substance that Love has built will prove indestructible. We and our loved ones can rest assured that the consciousness we have made in the quality of Love is invincible; and in this Love there is no separation.
© New Renasence Trust (Registered Charity No 256640)
Friday, 4 December 2009
Western Civilisation
Whilst I realise that to make a point in any argument, the arguer invariably over-exaggerates the points in his favour and under-plays those against. This is true in the following condemnation of Western civilisation given over one hundred years ago by an Eastern sage. Whilst I can think of arguments to oppose the Eastern life of contemplation, nevertheless, many of the points he makes should give us pause for thought, even today, when some of the excesses to which he refers are less common.
“We Hindu’s are a race immeasurably older in mental culture than the one from which you have sprung; your so called civilisation is but of yesterday, and you are merely engaged in an eternal process of multiplying your wants. You have abnormally developed and stimulated the acquisitive instinct, so that you have actually come to look upon life as a mere opportunity to pile up rubbish, in the shape of so-called material possessions. What, otherwise, can be the meaning of your saying, “Time is money,” which would be apt to amuse were it not for the saddening thought which underlies it? I say again that what you call your glorious civilisation is, and has been, nothing but a process of multiplying your wants. – the luxuries of today become the necessities of tomorrow – and the more the horizon of these wants extends, the more you will have to toil in order to gratify them; you are forced to devote an ever-increasing part of your life to the procuring of the means where- with to gratify artificial wants, for each new want implies a new sorrow experienced in the deprivation of the means to gratify it. A thousand wants means a thousand sorrows, a thousand disappointments, a thousand pains.
Has the standard of happiness been raised even to the extent of one inch by your much-vaunted civilisation? I say no; on the contrary, you suffer more than your forefathers did at any give period, because they lived in a simpler, more frugal manner, and their wants were fewer. They had more time to rest and think. The multiplicity of your wants has brought about a feverish activity, and in your so-called ‘struggle for existence,’ you have actually come to look upon your fellow man in the light of an enemy. You try to overcome him by stealth and by every modification of craft; you try to un-house him from business and drive him to the wall. That is what you complacently call, ‘the survival of the fittest’ a kind of password which you have invented in order to appease your not over-delicate conscience. Eight hundred years ago there was ‘Club Law’ in Frankistan: Your rival or competitor would simply dash your brains out and take possession of your property, and there was an end of you and your sorrows. You do not fight with clubs any longer, but you wage a more merciless warfare with your brains; today, it is brain against brain that is pitted in relentless and implacable combat, and your suffering is more of a mental than a physical character. Physical suffering is limited in duration, but mental suffering is the worst kind of agony.
You see the carnage around you, the furious struggle for possession at the expense of your fellow man, and you actually seem to enjoy your miserable triumph; you chuckle at the thought of having over-reached your neighbour in cunning; of having ruined him in business; of having brought him to his knees. You little think of his grief and sorrow, and of the fate of those who are depending upon him; of the heart-break involved in his agony on realising that another hope has been frustrated, another illusion dispelled, another dream of happiness shattered forever, and another load added to this world’s burden of sorrow. Survival of the fittest, forsooth! Who is it that survives in your precious struggle for existence? Is it the most humane, the most sensitive, the most generous, the most altruistic? No; it is the most merciless, the most selfish, the most unscrupulous – the very type whose complete extinction would be eminently desirable in the interests of the race. We Hindus, on the other hand, after having risen to a certain height of material culture, have paused and reflected, and have begun to reduce our wants to a minimum. All our immediate wants, if translated into time, would mean less than twenty minutes’ work per day; we can devote all the remainder of our time to mental culture; to thinking – not to book study, but to the solution of the world-mystery. And we have done a good deal of thinking, as you are prepared to admit. We have developed, during the last fifty centuries, mind-faculties which are a source of constant surprise to you; in fact, while you have been working for the stomach, we have been working for the brain. You Westerners, in fact, are all stomach, and we are all brain.”
“We Hindu’s are a race immeasurably older in mental culture than the one from which you have sprung; your so called civilisation is but of yesterday, and you are merely engaged in an eternal process of multiplying your wants. You have abnormally developed and stimulated the acquisitive instinct, so that you have actually come to look upon life as a mere opportunity to pile up rubbish, in the shape of so-called material possessions. What, otherwise, can be the meaning of your saying, “Time is money,” which would be apt to amuse were it not for the saddening thought which underlies it? I say again that what you call your glorious civilisation is, and has been, nothing but a process of multiplying your wants. – the luxuries of today become the necessities of tomorrow – and the more the horizon of these wants extends, the more you will have to toil in order to gratify them; you are forced to devote an ever-increasing part of your life to the procuring of the means where- with to gratify artificial wants, for each new want implies a new sorrow experienced in the deprivation of the means to gratify it. A thousand wants means a thousand sorrows, a thousand disappointments, a thousand pains.
Has the standard of happiness been raised even to the extent of one inch by your much-vaunted civilisation? I say no; on the contrary, you suffer more than your forefathers did at any give period, because they lived in a simpler, more frugal manner, and their wants were fewer. They had more time to rest and think. The multiplicity of your wants has brought about a feverish activity, and in your so-called ‘struggle for existence,’ you have actually come to look upon your fellow man in the light of an enemy. You try to overcome him by stealth and by every modification of craft; you try to un-house him from business and drive him to the wall. That is what you complacently call, ‘the survival of the fittest’ a kind of password which you have invented in order to appease your not over-delicate conscience. Eight hundred years ago there was ‘Club Law’ in Frankistan: Your rival or competitor would simply dash your brains out and take possession of your property, and there was an end of you and your sorrows. You do not fight with clubs any longer, but you wage a more merciless warfare with your brains; today, it is brain against brain that is pitted in relentless and implacable combat, and your suffering is more of a mental than a physical character. Physical suffering is limited in duration, but mental suffering is the worst kind of agony.
You see the carnage around you, the furious struggle for possession at the expense of your fellow man, and you actually seem to enjoy your miserable triumph; you chuckle at the thought of having over-reached your neighbour in cunning; of having ruined him in business; of having brought him to his knees. You little think of his grief and sorrow, and of the fate of those who are depending upon him; of the heart-break involved in his agony on realising that another hope has been frustrated, another illusion dispelled, another dream of happiness shattered forever, and another load added to this world’s burden of sorrow. Survival of the fittest, forsooth! Who is it that survives in your precious struggle for existence? Is it the most humane, the most sensitive, the most generous, the most altruistic? No; it is the most merciless, the most selfish, the most unscrupulous – the very type whose complete extinction would be eminently desirable in the interests of the race. We Hindus, on the other hand, after having risen to a certain height of material culture, have paused and reflected, and have begun to reduce our wants to a minimum. All our immediate wants, if translated into time, would mean less than twenty minutes’ work per day; we can devote all the remainder of our time to mental culture; to thinking – not to book study, but to the solution of the world-mystery. And we have done a good deal of thinking, as you are prepared to admit. We have developed, during the last fifty centuries, mind-faculties which are a source of constant surprise to you; in fact, while you have been working for the stomach, we have been working for the brain. You Westerners, in fact, are all stomach, and we are all brain.”
Thursday, 3 December 2009
There Is No Death
What follows is one of my favourite hymns, although this is the full version of the poem - the hymn has fewer verses. I think the final verse is the most beautiful of all. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. I was hoping to be able to give you a You Tube link so you could hear the tune but it doesn't seem to be on You Tube.
There is no death. The stars go down
To rise upon some fairer shore,
And bright in heaven's jewelled crown
They shine for ever more.
There is no death. The forest leaves
Convert to life the viewless air;
The rocks disorganize to feed
The hungry moss they bear.
There is no death. The dust we tread
Shall change beneath the summer showers
To golden grain or mellow fruit,
Or rainbow tinted flowers.
There is no death. The leaves may fall,
The flowers may fade and pass away--
They only wait through wintry hours
The warm, sweet breath of May.
There is no death, although we grieve
When beautiful familiar forms
That we have learned to love are torn
From our embracing arms.
Although with bowed and breaking heart.
With sable garb and silent tread,
We bear their senseless dust to rest,
And say that they are dead--
They are not dead. They have but passed
Beyond the mists that blind us here,
Into the new and larger life
Of that serener sphere.
They have but dropped their robe of clay
To put a shining raiment on;
They have not wandered far away,
They are not "lost" or "gone."
Though unseen to the mortal eye,
They still are here and love us yet;
The dear ones they have left behind
They never do forget.
Sometimes upon our fevered brow
We feel their touch, a breath of balm:
Our spirit sees them, and our hearts
Grow comforted and calm.
Yes, ever near us, though unseen,
Our dear, immortal spirits tread--
For all God's boundless Universe
Is Life--there are no dead.
(By John McCreery)
There is no death. The stars go down
To rise upon some fairer shore,
And bright in heaven's jewelled crown
They shine for ever more.
There is no death. The forest leaves
Convert to life the viewless air;
The rocks disorganize to feed
The hungry moss they bear.
There is no death. The dust we tread
Shall change beneath the summer showers
To golden grain or mellow fruit,
Or rainbow tinted flowers.
There is no death. The leaves may fall,
The flowers may fade and pass away--
They only wait through wintry hours
The warm, sweet breath of May.
There is no death, although we grieve
When beautiful familiar forms
That we have learned to love are torn
From our embracing arms.
Although with bowed and breaking heart.
With sable garb and silent tread,
We bear their senseless dust to rest,
And say that they are dead--
They are not dead. They have but passed
Beyond the mists that blind us here,
Into the new and larger life
Of that serener sphere.
They have but dropped their robe of clay
To put a shining raiment on;
They have not wandered far away,
They are not "lost" or "gone."
Though unseen to the mortal eye,
They still are here and love us yet;
The dear ones they have left behind
They never do forget.
Sometimes upon our fevered brow
We feel their touch, a breath of balm:
Our spirit sees them, and our hearts
Grow comforted and calm.
Yes, ever near us, though unseen,
Our dear, immortal spirits tread--
For all God's boundless Universe
Is Life--there are no dead.
(By John McCreery)
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