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Contents of Part 2
1.4. Profile of a Jnani
1.4.1. Krishnamurti
1.4.2. Ramana Maharshi
1.4.3. Meister Eckhart
1.4.4. The Jnani Checklist
References for part 2
1.4. Profile
of a Jnani
It can be quickly shown that if Socrates is a mystic, then he falls into
the jnani category, and hence it will be useful to examine some jnani
mystics for characteristics that we can be on the lookout for with Socrates.
I have chosen Jiddu Krishnamurti, Ramana Maharshi, and Meister Eckhart as
representing respectively the modern iconoclast, an element of the Hindu
tradition, and an element of the Christian tradition. Although one would
need to take many more examples to make a rounded portrait of the jnani,
most of the salient features emerge from these three. They are will documented
in that we have substantial primary texts from each, and, with the first
two, many proximity texts.
1.4.1. Krishnamurti
Krishnamurti was born in 1895 to a poor Brahmin family in India. Krishnamurti's
mother had some presentiment about her future child: she chose, against
the explicit religious and caste instructions regarding birth, to deliver
Krishnamurti in the puja room (shrine room) of her small house. As a child
Krishnamurti was not considered unusual in any way, but was discovered in
1909 by Charles Leadbeater, a leading member of the Theosophical Society.
The Theosophical Society had as its stated goal the preparation for a new
World Leader, and before long it declared that it had found it in the person
of Jiddu Krishnamurti. He was prepared for this role through occult initiations
at the hands of Leadbeater and Annie Besant, a process that involved communications
with so-called disembodied 'Masters', and ultimately the excruciatingly
painful preparation of his body to become the vessel for the (Buddha) Maitreya.
Krishnamurti in later life had no recollection of most of these experiences,
and vigorously denied that they contributed to his illumination. He gradually
shook off the ministrations of the Theosophical Society, and in a dramatic
gesture dissolved the Order of the Star, which was the organisation founded
to support his work. He then entered a life of teaching that lasted fifty
years. The teachings were his, however, and could be summed up in one phrase:
choiceless awareness.
Krishnamurti jettisoned the whole of Indian religious history (as well as
all other religious apparatus) and talked for fifty years on the pristine
state of a silent mind that lives with choiceless awareness. His emphasis
on no-mind borrows nothing from the Zen Buddhists, and he seems to have
taken no interest in any mystical figure or teaching, however similar to
his own. But his being was illuminated and silent; others made Christ-comparisons
throughout his life. Here are some comments from contemporary figures:
George Bernard Shaw called Krishnamurti "a
religious figure of the greatest distinction," and added, "He
is the most beautiful human being I have ever seen."
Henry Miller wrote, "There is no man I
would consider it a greater privilege to meet "
Aldous Huxley, after attending one of Krishnamurti's
lectures, confided in a letter, " the most impressive thing I have
listened to. It was like listening to the discourse of the Buddha such
power, such intrinsic authority "
Kahlil Gibran wrote, "When he entered
my room I said to myself, 'Surely the Lord of Love has come." [14]
In August 1922 Krishnamurti underwent three days of a very intense and painful
experience the most intense parts of which had no later recollection of.
He wrote afterwards of the period:
On the first day while I was in
that state and more conscious of the things around me, I had the first most
extraordinary experience. There was a man mending the road; that man was
myself; the pickaxe he held was myself; the very stone which he was breaking
up was a part of me; the tender blade of grass was my very being, and the
tree beside the man was myself. I also could feel and think like the roadmender
and I could feel the wind passing through the tree, and the little ant on
the blade of grass I could feel. The birds, the dust, and the very noise
were a part of me. Just then there was a car passing by at some distance;
I was the driver, the engine, and the tyres; as the car went further away
from me, I was going away from myself. I was in everything, or rather everything
was in me, inanimate and animate, the mountain, the worm and all breathing
things. All day long I remained in this happy condition.
(later in the same account:)
I was supremely happy, for I had seen. Nothing could ever be the same. I
have drunk of the clear and pure waters at the source of the fountain of
life and my thirst was appeased. Nevermore could I be thirsty. Never more
could I be in darkness; I have seen the Light, I have touched compassion
which heals all sorrow and suffering; it is not for myself, but for the
world. I have stood on the mountain top and gazed at the mighty Beings.
I have seen the glorious and healing Light. The fountain of Truth has been
revealed to me and the darkness has been dispersed, Love in all its glory
has intoxicated my heart; my heart can never be closed. I have drunk of
the fountain of Joy and eternal Beauty. I am God-intoxicated. [15]
This is one of the rare passages where Krishnamurti talks about himself,
and is typical of how mystics describe their illumination, but it is in
contrast to his later writings.
Krishnamurti is a good example of a jnani, and in connection with
Socrates useful in another way: his conversations or dialogues bear some
resemblance to the Socratic ones. Here are some extracts from a conversation
between Krishnamurti and Jacob Needleman in March of 1971 (some five years
after the publication of Needleman's Sword of Gnosis). Needleman
has asked a question about the cosmic dimension that is missing in a humanistic
psychology, and this has led to a discussion of space, from which Krishnamurti
has steered a course towards the 'centre of consciousness':
K RISHNAMURTI:
There is no house if there are no walls
and no roof. The content is consciousness but we like to separate them,
theorise about it, measure the yardage of our consciousness. Whereas the
centre is consciousness, the content of consciousness, and the content
is consciousness. Without the content, where is consciousness? And that
is the space.
Needleman:
I follow a little bit of what you say. I find myself wanting to say: well,
what do you value here? What is the important thing here?
K RISHNAMURTI:
I'll put that question after I have found
out whether the mind can be empty of content.
Needleman:
All right.
K RISHNAMURTI:
Then there is something else that will
operate, which will function within the field of the known. But without
finding that merely to say ...
Needleman:
No, no, this is so.
K RISHNAMURTI:
Let's proceed. Space is between two thoughts,
between two factors of time, two periods of time, because thought is time.
Yes?
Needleman:
All right, yes.
K RISHNAMURTI:
You can have a dozen periods of time but
it is still thought, there is that space. Then there is the space round
the centre, and the space beyond the self, beyond the barbed-wire, beyond
the wall of the centre. The space between the observer and the observed
is the space which thought has created as the image of my wife and the
image which she has about me. You follow, Sir?
Needleman:
Yes.
K RISHNAMURTI:
All that is manufactured by the centre.
To speculate about what is beyond all that has no meaning to me personally,
it's the philosopher's amusement.
Needleman:
The philosopher's amusement ...
K RISHNAMURTI:
I am not interested.
Needleman:
I agree. I am not interested sometimes, at my better moments, but nevertheless
...
K RISHNAMURTI:
I am sorry, because you are a philosopher!
Needleman:
No, no, why should you remember that, please.
K RISHNAMURTI:
So my question is: "Can the centre
be still, or can the centre fade away?" Because if it doesn't fade
away, or lie very quiet, then the content of consciousness is going to
create space within consciousness and call it the vast space. In there
lies deception and I don't want to deceive myself. ...
...
K RISHNAMURTI: We
are asking: "Can consciousness empty itself of its content?"
Not somebody else do it.
Needleman:
That is the question, yes.
K RISHNAMURTI:
Not divine grace, the super-self, some
fictitious outside agency. Can the consciousness empty itself of all this
content? First see the beauty of it, Sir.
Needleman:
I see it.
K RISHNAMURTI:
Because it must empty itself without an
effort. The moment there is an effort, there is the observer who is making
the effort to change the content, which is part of consciousness. I don't
know if you see that?
Needleman:
I follow. The emptying has to be effortless, instantaneous.
K RISHNAMURTI:
It must be without an agent who is operating
on it, whether an outside agent, or an inner agent. Now can this be done
without any effort, any directive which says, "I will change the content"?
This means the emptying of the consciousness of all will, "to be"
or "not to be". Sir, look what takes place.
Needleman:
I am watching.
K RISHNAMURTI:
I have put that question to myself. Nobody
has put it to me. Because it is a problem of life, a problem of existence
in this world. It is a problem which my mind has to solve. Can the mind,
with all its content, empty itself and yet remain mind not just float about?
Needleman:
It is not suicide.
K RISHNAMURTI:
No.
Needleman:
There is some kind of subtle ...
K RISHNAMURTI:
No, Sir, that is too immature. I have put
the question. My answer is: I really don't know.
Needleman:
That is the truth.
K RISHNAMURTI:
I really don't know. But I am going to
find out, in the sense of not waiting to find out. The content of my consciousness
is my unhappiness, my misery, my struggles, my sorrows, the images which
I have collected through life, my gods, the frustrations, the pleasures,
the fears, the agonies, the hatreds that is my consciousness. Can all that
be completely emptied? Not only at the superficial level but right through?
the so-called unconscious. If it is not possible, then I must live a life
of misery, I must live in endless, unending sorrow. There is neither hope,
nor despair, I am in prison. So the mind must find out how to empty itself
of all the content of itself, and yet live in this world, not become a
moron, but have a brain that functions efficiently. Now how is this to
be done? Can it ever be done? Or is there no escape for man?
Needleman:
I follow.
K RISHNAMURTI:
Because I don't see how to get beyond this
I invent all the gods, the temples, philosophies, rituals you understand?
Needleman:
I understand.
K RISHNAMURTI:
This is meditation, real meditation, not
all the phoney stuff. To see whether the mind with the brain which has
evolved through time, which is the result of thousands of experiences,
the brain that functions efficiently only in complete security whether
the mind can empty itself and yet have a brain that functions as a marvellous
machine. Also, it sees love is not pleasure; love is not desire. When there
is love there is no image; but I don't know what that love is. I only want
love as pleasure, sex and all the rest of it. There must be a relationship
between the emptying of consciousness and the thing called love; between
the unknown and the known, which is the content of consciousness.
Needleman:
I am following you. There must be this relationship.
K RISHNAMURTI:
The two must be in harmony. The emptying
and love must be in harmony. And it may be only love that is necessary
and nothing else.
Needleman:
This emptying is another word for love, is that what you are saying?
K RISHNAMURTI:
I am only asking what is love. Is love
within the field of consciousness?
Needleman:
No, it couldn't be.
K RISHNAMURTI:
Don't stipulate. Don't ever say yes or
no; find out! ...[16]
This rather long extract may baffle those unfamiliar with Krishnamurti's
thought, but it does introduce many of the important elements. We also see
that Needleman, despite being a professor of religion and author of many
learned book, is somewhat at a disadvantage. In terms of a Socratic dialogue
some aspects are similar, some are not. Krishnamurti manipulates the conversation
in the direction that interests him regardless of the questioner, who is
often left to agree rather impotently, quite possibly lost as to his meaning.
He also poses his own questions, and professes ignorance as to their answer.
What is also striking towards the end of the passage is how Krishnamurti
suddenly introduces love yes, it is secondary, as Krishnamurti is not concerned
with the devotional, but it is immediately associated with silence of the
mind, or the process of reaching that state. He even hints that one might
need nothing else, as Patanjali does.
1.4.2. Ramana Maharshi
Let us look now at another Indian mystic whose life and teachings are clearly
jnani: Ramana Maharshi. He was born in 1889 to a middle-class Brahmin
family in South India, showed no special aptitude for religion and had no
training in spiritual philosophy, but, at the age of seventeen underwent
a spontaneous transformation. Ramana described the awakening in his own
words.
It was about six weeks before I left Madura
[Maharshi's home town] for good that the great change in my life took place.
It was quite sudden. I was sitting alone in a room on the first floor of
my uncle's house. I seldom had any sickness, and on that day there was
nothing wrong with my health, but a sudden violent fear of death overtook
me. There was nothing in my state of health to account for it, and I did
not try to account for it or find out whether there was any reason for
the fear. I just felt "I am going to die" and began thinking
what to do about it. It did not occur to me to consult a doctor or my elders
or friends; I felt that I had to solve the problem myself, there and then.
The shock of the fear of death drove my mind
inwards and I said to myself mentally, without actually framing the words:
"Now death has come; what does it mean? What is it that is dying?
This body dies." And at once I dramatised the occurrence of death.
I lay with my limbs stretched out stiff as though rigor mortis had
set in and imitated a corpse so as to give greater reality to the enquiry.
I held my breath and kept my lips tightly closed so that no sound could
escape, so that neither the word "I" nor any other word could
be uttered. "Well then," I said to myself, "this body is
dead. It will be carried stiff to the burning ground and there burnt and
reduced to ashes. But with the death of this body am I dead? Is the body
I? It is silent and inert but I feel the full force of my personality and
even the voice of the 'I' within me, apart from it. So I am Spirit transcending
the body. The body dies but the Spirit that transcends it cannot be touched
by death. That means I am deathless Spirit." All this was not dull
thought; it flashed through me vividly as living truth which I perceived
directly, almost without thought-process. "I" was something very
real, the only real thing about my present state, and all the conscious
activity connected with my body was centred on that "I". From
that moment onwards the "I" or Self focused attention on itself
by a powerful fascination. Fear of death had vanished once and for all.
Absorption in the Self continued unbroken from that time on. Other thoughts
might come and go like the various notes of music, but the "I"
continued like the fundamental sruti note that underlies and blends
with all the other notes. Whether the body was engaged in talking, reading,
or anything else, I was still centred on "I". Previous to that
crisis I had no clear perception of my Self and was not consciously attracted
to it. I felt no perceptible or direct interest in it, much less any inclination
to dwell permanently in it. [17]
Ramana had entered into a state of pure consciousness. His description of
it, generally uncluttered with technical terms, is useful for the understanding
of jnani: he is describing an unbroken awareness of the centre of
his being, capable of existing as the ground to all his sensations and not
overwhelmed by them. Any aspirant on the path of awareness will know that
attempts to maintain such awareness in the supposedly ideal circumstances
of formal meditation practice, where distractions are at a minimum, is hard
enough, but to do so while reading or talking is nothing short of miraculous.
Ramana had a maturity at seventeen that was remarkable, for the onset of
his experience would have been simply frightening even for most adults.
Instead, he turned the experience into an enquiry into his nature,
an approach that became the core of his pedagogy for the rest of his life.
Ramana's change of orientation was so sudden and so complete that we see
him becoming quite indifferent to the manifest world, to the point where
he might have died of disease or starvation. This initial period, where
he displayed no interest in disciples or teaching, gradually gave way to
a more normal religious life and led to a fifty-year spell of teaching the
path to self-realisation. Ramana did not advocate renunciation in his pedagogy
however, teaching that the challenges of every-day life were to be used
as raw material for the quest for one's true identity. Although by temperament
his teachings were not explicitly devotional, he exhorted his disciples
to rest in the 'cave of the heart', an ancient expression that implies both
love and silence. He also recognised that contact with genuine Masters,
as opposed to mere 'gurus' (let us be cautious about his terminology while
recognising the distinction), could bring the disciple to self-realisation
more effectively than any practice. Ramana prefers the more neutral term
association (which we also find used in connection with Socrates)
than darshan:
1. Association with Sages who have realized
the Truth removes material attachments; on these attachments being removed
the attachments of the mind are also destroyed. Those whose attachments
of mind are thus destroyed become one with That which is Motionless. They
attain Liberation while yet alive. Cherish association with such Sages.
2. That Supreme State which is obtained here
and now as a result of association with Sages, and realized through the
deep meditation of Self-enquiry in contact with the Heart, cannot be gained
with the aid of a Guru or through knowledge of the scriptures, or by spiritual
merit, or by any other means.
3. If association with Sages is obtained, to
what purpose are all the methods of self-discipline? Tell me, of what use
is a fan when the cool, gentle, south wind is blowing? [18]
Ramana was the cool wind and who am I? was his pedagogy. His own transformation
can be seen in terms of a radical shift of identity, from body to Spirit.
The lack of any peak experiences, visions, or manifest ecstasies in Ramana's
case is a good argument for reducing the emphasis on mystical experience,
as mentioned above.
1.4.3. Meister
Eckhart
Johanne Eckhart was born in Germany in 1260 and died in 1328; his title
'Meister' comes from the award of 'Master in Sacred Theology' which he earned
in Paris. That Eckhart was a jnani has been clearly established by
Rudolf Otto in his Mysticism East and West, a comparison between
Eckhart and the 9th century Indian writer Sankara. Otto makes many useful
comparisons between Eckhart's major work, the Opus Tripartitum and
Sankara's commentaries (principally on the Brahma Sutras), showing
that many passages are almost interchangeable. Otto's work is flawed however,
because his Christian background requires that in the end he finds vital
elements that are present in Eckhart missing in Sankara; these elements,
unsurprisingly, are to do with the personal God, love, and ethics. Yet Otto
has no sympathy for bhakti, which he dismisses early in his work
as excited emotionalism and intoxicated eroticism [19]
and later on as 'pathological love [20]' (a
description due to Kant), and hence has to invent two types of jnani
so that in the end he can dismiss Sankara (and Plotinus while he is at it)
while praising Eckhart. Despite all this, Otto is on the right track with
Eckhart as jnani.
Let us look at a few passages from Eckhart that demonstrate this. First
of all, he speaks of union with God in the manner of via negativa:
As the soul becomes more pure and bare and
poor, and possesses less of created things, and is emptied of all things
that are not God, it receives God more purely, and is more completely in
Him; and it truly becomes one with God, and it looks into God and God into
it, face to face as it were; two images transformed into one. ... Some
people think that they will see God as if he were standing there and they
here. It is not so. God and I, we are one. ... I am converted into Him
in such a way that He makes me one Being with Himself not a similar
being. By the living God, it is true that there is no distinction! ...
The eye by which I see God is the same as the eye by which God sees me.
My eye and God's eye are one and the same one in seeing, one in knowing,
and one in loving. [21]
I find it significant that Eckhart presents
us with seeing, knowing and loving in that order: they indicate
that his first priority is not love, as it is to a bhakti. Love is
essential, we are in no doubt, but it follows seeing and knowing (significant
jnani terms) in Eckhart, rather than leads. This is confirmed in
part by his clear explanation of how detachment for him is higher
than love.
The teachers praise love most highly, as St
Paul does when he says: "In whatever tribulation I may find myself,
if I have not love, I am nothing."[I Corinthians xiii, 2, 3] But I
praise detachment more than all love. First because the best thing about
love is that it forces me to love God. On the other hand, detachment forces
God to love me. Now it is much nobler that I should force God to myself
than that I should force myself to God. And the reason is that God can
join Himself to me more closely unite Himself with me better than I could
unite myself with God. [22]
This is jnani because it emphasises the effort of the individual
to reach God, rather than the ecstatic, devotional love that comes from
complete surrender of effort or will. But Eckhart is not arrogant here,
either: his humility is demonstrated by his idea that God can effect the
union better than the lover in his supplication. To a bhakti the
language is completely foreign however: the idea of forcing God is
absurd; the bhakti waits for the lover to come (to use the language
of Rumi or Kabir); impatient, yes, longing, yes, but never forcing. For
Eckhart love always comes second as this passage shows again:
A man should not be afraid of anything as long
as his will is good, nor should he be at all depressed if he cannot achieve
his aim in all his works. But he should not consider himself to be far
from virtue when he find real good will in himself because virtue and everything
depend on good will. You can lack nothing if you have true good will, neither
love, nor humility nor any other virtue. But what you desire strongly and
with all your will is yours. God and all the creatures cannot take it away
from you, provided that the will is entire and is a real godly desire,
and that it is directed to the present. [23]
Love is secondary to the will here, but a will carefully defined:
it is 'good', 'godly', and directed to the present. It is also something
that even God cannot take away!
Eckhart, from an Indian perspective, labours under two disadvantages: firstly
he has not the language of jnani so well-established in India (though
knew the works of Dionysius the Areopagite and Plotinus), and secondly,
which is irrespective of jnani and bhakti, he is constrained
even further by the permissible range of expression within the Roman Catholic
Church (his views eventually led to excommunication, and was saved from
burning only by his death just prior to the issue of the Papal Bull that
found him guilty of heresy.)
1.4.4. The Jnani
Checklist
A picture of a jnani emerges from the brief sketches above of Krishnamurti,
Ramana Maharshi, and Eckhart. The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, Buddhist
texts, Dionysius the Areopagite and the works of Douglas Harding could help
refine this picture, though there is not space here to cite them at length.
We have characterised a jnani as non-devotional, but we must soften
this initial definition by saying that the devotional aspect is secondary
rather than non-existent. We see that Krishnamurti cannot speak of
the meditation that he is trying to define without bringing in love; that
Ramana's path of self-inquiry exhorts one to rest in the 'cave of the heart',
and that Eckhart also talks continuously of love, as did Paul. But in each
case the primary focus is on knowing, seeing, enquiry, and the will. And
in other cases of the well-developed jnani one may find it hard to
come across any references to love at all.
If we take some of history's great devotional mystics, such as Teresa of
Avila, Richard Rolle, Julian of Norwich, Ramakrishna, Rumi and Kabir, then
whatever knowing, seeing, enquiry and will is present, they are subordinate
to love, or even derided. For them divine love is enough unto itself. Most
of us may know or remember the extraordinary happiness of falling in love
with a person (usually in the sexual context of courting) and the cooling
or sobering that follows either through disappointment or the long years
of marriage. This love is caused and like all caused things has to
end, but the divine love is uncaused, and does not end; hence the value
placed on it by the mystic beyond anything whatsoever. This is not however
the orientation or preoccupation of the jnani.
The jnani may or may not speak in theistic terms, as we have seen.
Krishnamurti only does so extremely rarely, Maharshi does so as part of
an ancient spiritual language, that of Hinduism, and Eckhart does so as
part of the Christian spiritual language. The Buddha simply refused to comment
on any direct question about the existence of God. What, however is the
relationship between jnani and via positiva / via negativa?
Again, while the jnani may tend towards the via negativa it
is not a direct corollary: Krishnamurti showed a strong nature mysticism
in his writings, and Walt Whitman (if I can dare to put him forward as a
great jnani) was via positiva par excellence.
Hence, if we are on the lookout for a jnani, as we are with Socrates,
we will be looking for an emphasis on knowing rather than loving, on enquiry
rather than surrender, on will rather than abandonment; possibly non-theistic
rather than theistic, and possibly via negativa rather than via
positiva.
References for Part
2
[14]
Chandmal, Asit, One Thousand Moons - Krishnamurti
at Eighty-Five, New York: Abrams 1985, p. 9
[15] Lutyens,
M. The Life and Death of Krishnamurti, Rider, London, 1991, p. 42
[16] Krishnamurti,
J. The Awakening of Intelligence, Victor Gollancz, London, 1973,
p. 44
[17] Osborne,
Arthur (Ed.) The Collected Works of Ramana Maharshi, London: Rider,
1969, p. 7
[18] Osborne,
Arthur (Ed.) The Collected Works of Ramana Maharshi, London: Rider,
1969, p. 77
[19] Otto,
Rudolf. Mysticism East and West, Wheaton, Madras, London: The Theosophical
Publishing House, 1987, p. 14
[20] Otto,
Rudolf. Mysticism East and West, Wheaton, Madras, London: The Theosophical
Publishing House, 1987, p. 210
[21] Quoted
in Abhayananda, S. History of Mysticism
- The Unchanging Testament, Atma Books, Naples, Florida, 1987, p. 299
[22] Eckhart,
'On Detachment' in Meister Eckhart, Selected Treatises and Sermons,
London: Collins, 1963, p. 156
[23] Eckhart,
'How the Will can do All Things and how all Virtues Reside in the Will,
Provided that it is Just' in Meister Eckhart, Selected Treatises
and Sermons, London: Collins, 1963, p. 70. I have used the Quint reading
of the last clause, as suggested in the footnote on that page.
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