Walter Hilton’s Song of Angels

Bl. Fra Angelico, Dormition and Assumption of the Virgin (c.1424−1434), detail

IN the Introduction to her edition of the Cloud of Unknowing, Evelyn Underhill refers to “an exquisite fragment” by the English mystic Walter Hilton (c. 1340/1345 – 1396) called Song of Angels.  The first third is shown below.  Besides discussing angelic music, Hilton makes some valuable comments about the nature of the what Underhill and Christian mystics call unitive life, a condition in which the material world becomes sacralized.

Links to the entire work are supplied in the Bibliography, and a nice audio version is here.  As a side note, according to St. Hildegard of Bingen, she wrote her ethereal music in by divine inspiration in a trance-like state.  Surely, listening to it one cannot help but think of angels’ songs!

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Here followeth a devout treatise compiled by Master Walter Hilton of the Song of Angels

DEAR brother in Christ, I have understanding by thine own speech, and also by telling of another man, that thou yearnest and desirest greatly for to have more knowledge and understanding than thou hast of angel’s song and heavenly sound; what it is, and on what wise it is perceived and felt in a man’s soul, and how a man may be sure that it is true and not feigned; and how it is made by the presence of the good angel, and not by the inputting of the evil angel. These things thou wouldest wete of me; but, soothly, I cannot tell thee for a surety the soothfastness of this matter; nevertheless somewhat, as me thinketh, I shall shew thee in a short word.

Know thou well that the end and the sovereignty of perfection standeth in very oneness of God and of a man’s soul by perfect charity. This onehead, then, is verily made when the mights of the soul are reformed by grace to the dignity and the state of the first condition; that is, when the mind is stabled firmly, without changing and vagation, in God and ghostly things, and when the reason is cleared from all worldly and fleshly beholdings, and from all bodily imaginations, figures, and fantasies of creatures, and is illumined by grace to behold God and ghostly things, and when the will and the affection is purified and cleansed from all fleshly, kindly, and worldly love, and is inflamed with burning love of the Holy Ghost.

This wonderful onehead may not be fulfilled perfectly, continually, and wholly in this life, because of the corruption of the flesh, but only in the bliss of heaven. Nevertheless, the nearer that a soul in this present life may come to this onehead, the more perfect it is. For the more that it is reformed by grace to the image and the likeness of its Creator here on this wise; the more joy and bliss shall it have in heaven. Our Lord God is an endless being without changing, almighty without failing, sovereign wisdom, light, truth without error or darkness; sovereign goodness, love, peace, and sweetness. Then the more that a soul is united, fastened, conformed, and joined to our Lord, the more stable and mighty it is, the more wise and clear, good and peaceable, loving and more virtuous it is, and so it is more perfect. For a soul that hath by the grace of Jesus, and long travail of bodily and ghostly exercise, overcome and destroyed concupiscences, and passions, and unreasonable stirrings within itself, and without in the sensuality, and is clothed all in virtues, as in meekness and mildness, in patience and softness, in ghostly strength and righteousness, in continence, in wisdom, in truth, hope and charity; then it is made perfect, as it may be in this life. Much comfort it receiveth of our Lord, not only inwardly in its own hidden nature, by virtue of the onehead to our Lord that lieth in knowing and loving of God, in light and ghostly burning of Him, in transforming of the soul in to the Godhead; but also many other comforts, savours, sweetnesses, and wonderful feelings in the diverse sundry manners, after that our Lord vouchethsafe to visit His creatures here in earth, and after that the soul profiteth and waxeth in charity.

Some soul, by virtue of charity that God giveth it, is so cleansed, that all creatures, and all that he heareth, or seeth, or feeleth by any of his wits, turneth him to comfort and gladness; and the sensuality receiveth new savour and sweetness in all creatures. And right as beforetime the likings in the sensuality were fleshly, vain, and vicious, for the pain of the original sin; so now they are made ghostly and clean, without bitterness and biting of conscience. And this is the goodness of our Lord, that sith the soul is punished in the sensuality, and the flesh is partner of the pain, that afterward the soul be comforted in the sensuality, and the flesh be fellow of joy and comfort with the soul, not fleshly, but ghostly, as he was fellow in tribulation and pain.

This is the freedom and the lordship, the dignity, and the honor that a man hath over all creatures, the which dignity he may so recover by grace here, that every creature savour to him as it is. And that is, when by grace he seeth, he heareth, he feeleth only God in all creatures. On this manner of wise a soul is made ghostly in the sensuality by abundance of charity, that is, in the substance of the soul.

Also, our Lord comforteth a soul by angel’s song. What that song is, it may not be described by no bodily likeness, for it is ghostly, and above all manner of imagination and reason. It may be felt and perceived in a soul, but it may not be shewed. Nevertheless, I shall speak thereof to thee as me thinketh. When a soul is purified by the love of God, illumined by wisdom, stabled by the might of God, then is the eye of the soul opened to behold ghostly things, as virtues and angels and holy souls, and heavenly things. Then is the soul able because of cleanness to feel the touching, the speaking of good angels. This touching and speaking, it is ghostly and not bodily. For when the soul is lifted and ravished out of the sensuality, and out of mind of any earthly things, then in great fervour of love and light (if our Lord vouchsafe) the soul may hear and feel heavenly sound, made by the presence of angels in loving of God. Not that this song of angels is the sovereign joy of the soul; but for the difference that is between a man’s soul in flesh and an angel, because of uncleanness, a soul may not hear it, but by ravishing in love, and needeth for to be purified well clean, and fulfilled of much charity, or it were able for to hear heavenly sound. For the sovereign and the essential joy is in the love of God by Himself and for Himself, and the secondary is in communing and beholding of angels and ghostly creatures.

For right as a soul, in understanding of ghostly things, is often times touched and moved through bodily imagination by working of angels; as Ezekiel the prophet did see in bodily imagination the soothfastness of God’s privities; right so, in the love of God, a soul by the presence of angels is ravished out of mind of all earthly and fleshly things in to an heavenly joy, to hear angel’s song and heavenly sound, after that the charity is more or less.

Now, then, me thinketh that there may no soul feel verily angel’s song nor heavenly sound, but he be in perfect charity; though all that are in perfect charity have not felt it, but only that soul that is so purified in the fire of love that all earthly savour is brent out of it, and all mean letting between the soul and the cleanness of angels is broken and put away from it. Then soothly may he sing a new song, and soothly he may hear a blessed heavenly sound, and angel’s song without deceit or feigning. Our Lord woteth there that soul is that, for abundance of burning love, is worthy to hear angel’s song. […]

For if a man have any presumption in his fantasies and in his workings, and thereby falleth in to indiscreet imagination, as it were in a frenzy, and is not ordered nor ruled of grace, nor comforted by ghostly strength, the devil entereth in, and by his false illuminations, and by his false sounds, and by his false sweetnesses, he deceiveth a man’s soul. And of this false ground springeth errors, and heresies, false prophecies, presumptions, and false reasonings, blasphemings, and slanderings, and many other mischiefs. And, therefore, if thou see any man ghostly occupied fall in any of these sins and these deceits, or in frenzies, wete thou well that he never heard nor felt angel’s song nor heavenly sound. For, soothly, he that heareth verily angel’s song, he is made so wise that he shall never err by fantasy, nor by indiscretion, nor by no slight of working of the devil. [Source: Gardner, 1910; slightly modernized]

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Bibliography

Gardner, Edmund G. (ed.). The Cell of Self-Knowledge: Seven Early English Mystical Treatises Printed by Henry Pepwell in 1521. London, 1910. IV. A Devout Treatise compiled by Master Walter Hylton of the Song of Angels (pp. 63−73). [Google Books]

Underhill, Evelyn (ed.). The Cloud of Unknowing. London, 1922.

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Today’s Need for Inspired Literature

Simone Cantarini, Saint Matthew and the Angel, Italian, 1612 – 1648, c. 1645/1648, oil on canvas.

IN ONE of his more famous writings, William Ellery Channing addressed the topic of developing a uniquely American intellectual tradition. His message is important today in several respects.  One of his chief concerns was to counter the growing tide of materialism in Europe and America.  This, he believed, could only end in, at the individual level, unhappiness, and, at the collective level, dehumanizing institutions and dysfunctional government. Sound literature, he maintains, is founded on genius, which is itself activated when our hearts and minds are aligned with our moral and spiritual nature.  Genius does not manifest itself in a vacuum, however: inspired writers write inspiredly when there is an audience capable of receiving an inspired message.  Hence our first need is to morally prepare the public.  This, Chandler, argues, is the proper role of religion.  But religion itself must be of a higher quality.  Instead of religion based on formality, authority, dogma or superstition, we need one based on personal spiritual experience and authentic moral consciousness.

New inspired literature must address different topics and meet different challenges from that of the past. Society has already assimilated the insights of past genius. What is the most promising need for new creativity? Channing answers: a spiritualized transformation of society, the social experiment yet untried.

Are we asked then to what impulse or power we look for a higher literature than has yet existed? We answer, to a new action or developement of the religious principle. This remark will probably surprise not a few of our readers. It seems to us, that the energy with which this principle is to act on the intellect, is hardly— suspected. Men identify religion with superstition, with fanaticism, with the common forms of Christianity; and seeing it arrayed against intellect, leagued with oppression, fettering inquiry, and incapable of being blended with the sacred dictates of reason and conscience, they see in its progress only new encroachments on free and enlightened thinking. Still, man’s relation to God is the great quickening truth, throwing all other truths into insignificance, and a truth which, however obscured and paralysed by the many errors which ignorance and fraud have hitherto linked with it, has ever been a chief spring of human improvement. We look to it as the true life of the intellect. No man can be just to himself, can comprehend his own existence, can put forth all his powers with an heroic confidence, can deserve to be the guide and inspirer of other minds, till he has risen to communion with the Supreme Mind; till he feels his filial connexion with the Universal Parent; till he regards himself as the recipient and minister of the Infinite Spirit; till he feels his consecration to the ends which religion unfolds; till he rises above human opinion, and is moved by a higher impulse than fame.

From these remarks it will be seen, that our chief hopes of an improved literature, rest on our hopes of an improved religion. From the prevalent theology, which has come down to us from the dark ages, we hope nothing. It has done its best. All that can grow up under its sad shade, has already been brought forth. It wraps the Divine nature and human nature in impenetrable gloom. It overlays Christianity with technical, arbitrary dogmas. True faith is of another lineage. It comes from the same source with reason, conscience, and our best affections, and is in harmony with them all. True faith is essentially a moral conviction; a confidence in the reality and immutableness of moral distinctions; a confidence in disinterested virtue or in spiritual excellence as the supreme good; a confidence in God as its fountain and almighty friend, and in Jesus Christ as having lived and died to breathe it into the soul; a confidence in its power, triumphs, and immortality; a confidence, through which outward changes, obstructions, disasters, sufferings, are overcome, or rather made instruments of perfection. Such a faith, unfolded freely and powerfully, must ‘work mightily’ on the intellect as well as on practice. By revealing to us the supreme purpose of the Creator, it places us, as it were, in the centre of the universe, from which the harmonies, true relations, and brightest aspects of things are discerned. It unites calmness and enthusiasm, and the concord of these seemingly hostile elements is essential to the full and healthy action of the creative powers of the soul. It opens the eye to beauty and the heart to love. Literature, under this influence, will become more ingenuous and single-hearted; will penetrate further into the soul; will find new interpretations of nature and life; will breathe a martyr’s love of truth, tempered with a never-failing charity; and, whilst sympathizing will all human suffering, will still be pervaded by a healthful cheerfulness, and will often break forth in tones of irrepressible joy, responsive to that happiness which fills God’s universe.

We may note how closely Channing’s ideas correspond with those of Sorokin in the 20th century, as discussed in a previous article. One writes with alarm as he sees the beginning of a radically materialistic American culture, and fears where it will lead; the other, in the aftermath of two world wars, the development of nuclear weapons, and growing modern alienation and dehumanization sees its consequences. Both recognized the role of the supraconscious in literary genius, the need for Idealism to combat modern materialism, the role of religion in promoting cultural transformation, and the need to reform religions themselves.

References

Channing, William Ellery. Remarks on National Literature. The Works of William E. Channing. D. D.. 6 vols. (Boston: James Munroe, 1841−43), 1:243−280.

Channing, William Ellery. Remarks on National Literature. In: ed. David Robinson, William Ellery Channing: Selected Writings, (Sources on American Spirituality), Paulist Press, 1985; pp. 166−193.

Uebersax, John.  Pitirim Sorokin: The Role of Religion in the Altruistic Transformation of Society.  Satyagraha (weblog). 19 Apr 2022. satyagraha.wordpress.com/2022/04/19/religion-cultural-transformation/

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Bunyan on Allegorical Interpretation of Scripture

John Bunyan (1628−1688)

JOHN BUNYAN, in his introduction to Pilgrim’s Progress, addresses critics who might complain about his use of allegory to treat of important religious themes.  Bunyan justifies it partly based on the precedent of Holy Scripture, where parables, allegories and ‘dark sayings’ are present throughout.

Besides being delightful for its own sake (the rest of Pilgrim’s Progress is written in prose, but this is verse), the preface (1) draws our attention to how important allegorical modes of communication are in Scripture, and (2) also shows that Bunyan, a 17th century English Puritan, was in no way committed to exclusively literal interpretation of Scripture.

In lines 147 to 152, he shows keen psychological appreciation for the many ways that allegory may have advantages over literal prose: it informs the judgment, satisfies the understanding, elicits the will’s acceptance, pleases the imagination, and presents truths in ways that prevent cognitive defense mechanisms from raising specious, troubling objections.  (Bunyan’s sophistication as a psychologist is readily apparent in another of his works, On the Greatness of the Soul.)

Given that many American Evangelical Protestants today have English Puritanism as part of their historical lineage — and in any case hold Bunyan and Pilgrim’s Progress in high regard — I think the second point above bears some emphasis.  The insistence on exclusively literal interpretation of the Bible which became (or appeared to become) very common in American Protestantism in the 20th century is, I believe it can be shown, something of a historical aberration.

To put this more positively, more modern American Protestants would investigate (and profit from) allegorical interpretation if they felt they were allowed to. That there is some unwritten consensus against allegorical interpretation, I believe, is in large part of a myth.  To use use an apt figure of speech, that radical literalism is an official doctrine of Protestantism is like the proverbial  emperor who has no clothes.

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Some men, by feigning words as dark as mine,
Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine.
“But they want solidness. Speak man thy mind.” 105*
“They drowned the weak; Metaphors make us blind.”

Note: Lines 105 and 106, of course, are the words of an imagined critic. I’ve added quotation marks to make that more clear.

Solidity indeed becomes the Pen
Of him that writeth things Divine to men;
But must I needs want solidness, because
By Metaphors I speak? Were not God’s Laws, 110
His Gospel-Laws, in olden time held forth
By Types, Shadows, and Metaphors? Yet loth
Will any sober man be to find fault
With them, lest he be found for to assault
The highest Wisdom. No, he rather stoops, 115
And seeks to find out what by Pins and Loops,
By Calves, and Sheep, by Heifers, and by Rams,
By Birds, and Herbs, and by the blood of Lambs,
God speaketh to him. And happy is he
That finds the light and grace that in them be. 120

Be not too forward therefore to conclude
That I want solidness, that I am rude:
All things solid in shew not solid be;
All things in parables despise not we;
Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive, 125
And things that good are, of our souls bereave.

My dark and cloudy words they do but hold
The Truth, as Cabinets inclose the Gold.
The Prophets used much by Metaphors
To set forth Truth; yea, whoso considers 130
Christ, his Apostles too, shall plainly see,
That Truths to this day in such Mantles be.

Am I afraid to say that Holy Writ,
Which for its Stile and Phrase puts down all Wit,
Is everywhere so full of all these things, 135
Dark Figures, Allegories? Yet there springs
From that same Book that lustre, and those rays
Of light, that turns our darkest nights to days.

Come, let my Carper to his Life now look,
And find there darker lines than in my Book 140
He findeth any; Yea, and let him know,
That in his best things there are worse lines too.

May we but stand before impartial men,
To his poor One I dare adventure Ten,
That they will take my meaning in these lines 145
Far better than his lies in Silver Shrines.
Come, Truth, although in Swaddling-clouts, I find,
Informs the Judgment, rectifies the Mind,
Pleases the Understanding, makes the Will
Submit; the Memory too it doth fill 150
With what doth our Imagination please;
Likewise it tends our troubles to appease.

Sound words I know Timothy is to use,
And old Wive’s Fables he is to refuse;
But yet grave Paul him nowhere doth forbid 155
The use of Parables; in which lay hid
That Gold, those Pearls, and precious stones that were
Worth digging for, and that with greatest care.

Let me add one word more. O man of God,
Art thou offended? Dost thou wish I had 160
Put forth my matter in another dress,
Or that I had in things been more express?
Three things let me propound, then I submit
To those that are my betters, as is fit.

1. I find not that I am denied the use 165
Of this my method, so I no abuse
Put on the Words, Things, Readers; or be rude
In handling Figure or Similitude,
In application; but, all that I may,
Seek the advance of Truth this or that way. 170
Denied, did I say? Nay, I have leave,
(Example too, and that from them that have
God better pleased, by their words or ways,
Than any man that breatheth now a-days)
Thus to express my mind, thus to declare 175
Things unto thee, that excellentest are.

2. I find that men (as high as Trees) will write
Dialogue-wise; yet no man doth them slight
For writing so; Indeed if they abuse
Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use 180
To that intent; but yet let Truth be free
To make her sallies upon thee and me,
Which way it pleases God. For who knows how,
Better than he that taught us first to Plow,
To guide our Mind and Pens for his Design? 185
And he makes base things usher in Divine.

3. I find that Holy Writ in many places
Hath semblance with this method, where the cases
Do call for one thing, to set forth another;
Use it I may then, and yet nothing smother 190
Truth’s golden Beams: nay, by this method may
Make it cast forth its rays as light as day.

And now, before I do put up my Pen,
I’ll shew the profit of my Book, and then
Commit both thee and it unto that hand 195
That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand.

This Book it chalketh out before thine eyes
The man that seeks the everlasting Prize;
It shews you whence he comes, whither he goes,
What he leaves undone, also what he does; 200
It also shews you how he runs and runs,
Till he unto the Gate of Glory comes.

It shews too, who set out for life amain,
As if the lasting Crown they would obtain;
Here also you may see the reason why 205
They lose their labour, and like Fools do die.

This Book will make a Traveller of thee,
If by its Counsel thou wilt ruled be;
It will direct thee to the Holy Land,
If thou wilt its directions understand: 210
Yea, it will make the slothful active be;
The blind also delightful things to see.

Art thou for something rare and profitable?
Wouldest thou see a Truth within a Fable?
Art thou forgetful? Wouldest thou remember 215
From New-year’s-day to the last of December?
Then read my Fancies, they will stick like Burrs,
And may be to the Helpless, Comforters.

This Book is writ in such a Dialect
As may the minds of listless men affect: 220
It seems a novelty, and yet contains
Nothing but sound and honest Gospel strains.

Would’st thou divert thyself from Melancholy?
Would’st thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly?
Would’st thou read Riddles, and their Explanation? 225
Or else be drowned in thy Contemplation?
Dost thou love picking meat? Or would’st thou see
A man i’ th’ Clouds, and hear him speak to thee?
Would’st thou be in a Dream, and yet not sleep?
Or would’st thou in a moment laugh and weep? 230
Wouldest thou lose thyself, and catch no harm,
And find thyself again without a charm?
Would’st read thyself, and read thou know’st not what,
And yet know whether thou art blest or not,
By reading the same lines? O then come hither, 235
And lay my Book, thy Head, and Heart together.

JOHN BUNYAN

Read the entire introduction here.

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Timeline of Cambridge Platonists and Metaphysical Poets

Click image to enlarge

SOME time ago I used an online service to make this timeline of Cambridge Platonists and Metaphysical Poets, thinking it might help others.  I naively assumed that by posting it on my Christian Platonist webpage, it would be routinely noticed by Google’s web crawlers, which would index it and cause it to appear in relevant Google image searches.I was wrong.  As sophisticated as the Google search engine is, it somehow couldn’t figure out (1) that this exactly what it claims, and (2) it would be of interest to anyone who searched for a timeline of, say, Cambridge Platonists or Metaphysical Poets.

Rather than pry into this enigma, it seems simpler to simply re-post the chart here, on a different web page and hope for better results!

Comenius’ Labyrinth of the World and the Paradise of the Heart

Jan Amos Comenius, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam 

JOHAN AMOS COMENIUS (Jan Amos Komensky; 1592–1670) is a great Czech benefactor of humanity.  Considered one of the founders of modern education, he was also a bishop and devotional writer.  His work The Labyrinth of the World and the Paradise of the Heart is a masterpiece of spiritual writing. It takes the form of an allegory, with the soul as a pilgrim wandering through the world (it is the inspiration for Bunyan’s later work, Pilgrim’s Progress.).  Along the way it witnesses every conceivable kind of human folly, pretension, injustice and misery.  Thoroughly disillusioned with the world and its vanities, the soul everntually looks within, finding the “paradise of the heart” and Christ, the soul’s teacher, guide and companion. Contemplation and prayer leading to holiness, and a complete subordination of ones ego to God’s will, is the only solution to the labyrinth of the world.

Comenius wrote this during the Thirty Years’ War, one of the bloodiest in European history, and after his wife and two children died of plague. The following excerpt comes from Part 2.

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CHAPTER XXXVII. THE PILGRIM FINDS HIS WAY HOME

The First Conversion is the Work of God.

1. Now, when I cease speaking, and am still shaking with fear, I hear above me a mysterious voice that said “Return!” And I lift my head to see who was calling; but I see nothing, not even my guide Searchall; for he, too, had now forsaken me.

2. And lo! now a voice again resounded “Return!” Then knowing not how to turn back, nor whither to go out of this darkness, I began to sorrow, when lo! the voice again called: “Return whence thou camest to the house of the heart, and then close the doors behind thee.”

​The Second Conversion requires our own Endeavours also.

3. This counsel I obeyed as well as I could, and it was well with me that I thus obeyed God, who had counselled me; but this was yet a gift from Him. Then collecting my thoughts as best I could, I closed my eyes, ears, mouth, nostrils, and abandoned all contact with external things. Then I entered into the innermost of my heart, and behold! everything therein was darkness. But when, with blinking eyes, I gaze a little around me, I behold a weak light that penetrated through the crevices; and I see above me, in the vaulting of this my little chamber, what appeared to me a large, round, glassy window; but it had been so much soiled and bedaubed that scarce any light came through it.

Description of Corrupt Nature.

4. Then, looking around me by means of this dim, scant light, I see on the walls certain small pictures of, as it seemed, sometime pretty work; but the colours had faded, and some portions of the pictures had been hewn off, or broken off. Approaching them more closely, I see on them inscriptions such as Prudence, Meekness, Justice, Chastity, Temperance, and so forth. Then in the middle of the chamber I see divers broken and damaged ladders, and pincers and ropes, that had been damaged and scattered about; item, large ​wings with plucked plumes; lastly, clock-works with broken or bent cylinders, dents, and little columns; and all this was scattered about at random, here and there.

Corrupt Nature cannot be mended by Worldly Wisdom.

5. And I wondered what was the purpose of these implements, how and by whom they had been injured, and how they could be repaired. Now thinking of this and considering it, I could devise naught; but hope arose in me that He who by His call had led me to this chamber, whoever He might be, would again address me, and further instruct me. For that of which I had here seen but the beginning pleased me well, both because my little chamber had not the evil smell of the other places, through which I had passed in the world, and also because I found not here rustle and rush, noise and crash, unrest and reeling to and fro, tussling and violence (things of which the world is full). Here everything was quiet.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. THE PILGRIM RECEIVES CHRIST AS HIS GUEST

Our Illumination cometh from on High.

1. I now devise of this with myself, and wait what will further befall. And behold, a clear light appeared on high, and raising my eyes towards it, I see the window above me full of brightness, and from out of that brightness there appeared One, in aspect, indeed, similar to a man, but in His splendour truly God. His countenance shone exceedingly, yet could human eyes gaze at it, for it caused not terror; rather had it a loveliness such as I had never seen in the world. He then—kindness itself, friendliness itself—addressed me in these most sweet words:

Wherein the Source of all Light and all Joy lieth.

2. “Welcome, welcome, my son and dear brother.” And having said these words, He embraced me, and kissed me kindly. There came forth from Him a most delightful odour, and I was seized by such unspeakable delight that tears flowed from my eyes, and I knew not how to ​respond to so unexpected a greeting. Only sighing deeply, I gazed at Him with meek eyes. Then He, seeing me overwhelmed with joy, spoke thus further to me: “Where, then, has thou been, my son? why hast thou tarried so long? by what path hast thou come? what hast thou sought in the world? Joy! where could thou seek it but in God; and where couldst thou seek God, but in His own temple; and what is the temple of the living God, but the living temple that He Himself has fashioned—thine own heart? I saw, my son, that thou wentest astray, but I would see it no longer. I have brought thee to thy own self. I have led thee into thyself. For here have I chosen my palace and my dwelling. If thou wishest here to dwell with me, thou wilt find here, what thou hast vainly sought on earth, rest, comfort, glory, and abundance of all things. This I promise thee, my son, that thou wilt not be deceived here as thou wert there in the world.”

The Pilgrim gives himself over entirely to Jesus.

3. Hearing such speech, and understanding that He who spake was my Redeemer, Jesus Christ, of whom I had indeed heard somewhat in the world, but superficially only, I folded my hands, and then stretched them out, not, as in the world, with fear and doubt, but with full happiness and complete faith; then I said: “I am here, my Lord Jesus; take me to Thee. Thine I wish to be, and to remain for ever. Speak to Thy servant, and ​permit me to hear Thee; tell me what Thou desirest, and grant that I find pleasure in it; lay on me what burden Thou thinkest fit, and grant that I may bear it; employ me for whatever purpose Thou desirest, and grant me that I may not be found wanting; order me to act according to Thy will, and grant me grace to do so. Let me be nothing, that Thou mayest be everything.”

CHAPTER XXXIX. THEIR BETROTHAL

God’s Wisdom directs even our Errors.

1. “I accept this from thee, my son,” quoth He. “Hold to this, become, call thyself, and remain mine own. Mine, indeed, thou wert and art from all eternity, but thou knewest it not. I have long prepared for thee that happiness to which I will now lead thee; but thou didst not understand this. I have led thee to thyself through strange paths and by roundabout ways; this thou knewest not, nor what I, the ruler of all my chosen ones, intended; neither didst thou perceive by what means I worked on thee. But I was everywhere with thee, and therefore somewhat guided thee through these crooked paths, that I might at last bring thee yet closer to me. Naught could the world, naught thy guides, naught Solomon teach thee. They could by no means enrich thee, content thee, satisfy the desires of thy heart, for they had not that which thou didst seek. But I will teach thee everything, enrich thee, content thee.”

​All Worldly Striving should be transferred to God.

2. “This only I demand of thee, that whatever thou hast seen in the world, and whatever struggles thou hast witnessed among men, thou shouldst transfer it to me, and lay the burden of it on me. This, as long as thou livest, shall be thy work and thy task; of that which men seek there in the world, but find not—to wit, peace and joy—I will give thee abundance.”

The Pilgrim joins Christ only, his Eternal Spouse.

3. “Thou hast seen in the estate of the married people how those who find pleasure in one another leave everything, that they may belong to each other. Do thus thou also, leave everything, even thyself; give thyself up fully to me, and thou wilt be mine, and it will be well. As long as thou dost not this, thou wilt, I assure thee, obtain no solace for thy soul. For in the world everything changeth; everything beside me for which thy mind and thy desire will strive, will, in one way or another, cause thee toil and discontent; at last it will forsake thee, and the joy that thou hadst found in it will turn to woe. Therefore I faithfully counsel thee, my son, forsake everything and cling to me; be mine, and I thine. Let us shut ourselves up together here in this shrine, and thou wilt feel truer joy than can be found in carnal wedlock. Strive, then, to love ​me alone; to have me as thy one counsellor, leader, friend, companion, and comrade in all things. And whenever thou speakest to me, say, ‘I only and thou, oh, my Lord!’ Thou needest not heed any third one. Cling but to me, gaze at me, converse sweetly with me, embrace me, kiss me; expect also all things from me.

Christ should be considered our only Gain.

4. “Thou hast seen in other conditions how the men who seek gain busy themselves with endless labours, what artifices they employ, what perils they risk. Thou must now consider all this striving as vanity, knowing that one thing alone is necessary, the grace of God. Therefore, limiting thyself to the one calling which I have entrusted to thee, conduct thy labours faithfully, conscientiously, quietly, entrusting to me the end and aim of all things. [. . .]

In Christ alone there is Abundance of all.

11. “Thou hast seen also what the men in that castle of feigned fortune seek, and in what they glory: riches, pleasure, fame. Heed thou none of these things. They give not peace but disquietude, and they are but the path that leadeth to sorrow. Wherefore shouldst thou value a multitude of goods; why desire it? Life requires but little, and it is my business to provide for those who serve me. Strive, therefore, to collect inward treasures, illumination and piety, and I will grant thee everything else. Heaven and earth will belong to thee by inheritance; be thou certain of this. Neither will such things vex thee and oppress thee as do the things of the world; rather will they give thee unspeakable joy.

The Pilgrim’s most dear Companions.

12. “The worldly ones gladly seek companionship; but thou must absent thyself from noisy striving, and learn to love solitude. Companionship is but an aid to sin, or to senseless fooling, idleness, or waste of time. Yet wilt thou not be alone; ​fear not, even if thou art alone. I am with thee, and the multitude of my angels; with us wilt thou be able to imparl [confer]. Yet if at times thou desirest visible companionship also, seek out those who are of the same spirit. Thus will your companionship be a joint devotion to God.

True Delights.

13. “These others find their pleasure in plentiful banquets, eating, drinking, laughter. But it shall be thy pleasure, when necessary, to hunger, thirst, cry, suffer blows, and so forth, for my sake and with me. Yet if I grant thee pleasurable things, thou mayest also rejoice (but not because of these things, rather because of me, and for my sake).

True Glory.

14. “Thou hast seen how these others strive for glory and honours; but thou must not heed the reports of men. Whether men speak well or evil of thee, it imports not, if but I am satisfied with thee. If thou but knowest that thou pleasest me, curry not favour with men; their good will is fickle, imperfect, perverse; they often love that which is worthy of hate, and hate that which is worthy of love. Nor is it possible to please all; striving to please one, thou disgusteth others. By not considering all these, and by heeding me only, thou wilt fare best. If we both then agree together, the voice of man can neither take anything from you ​nor from me, nor grant anything. Strive not to know many, my son. Let thy glory be to be humble, that the world may, if possible, know nothing of thee; this is best and safest. My angels, indeed, will know of thee, speak of thee, seek to serve thee; announce, if necessary, thy works to heaven and earth. Be then certain of this. But truly when the time of the amendment of all things comes, all ye who have submitted yourselves to me shalt be led to unspeakable glory before the angels and the whole world. Compared to this glory, all worldly glory is but a shadow.

This is the Summit of all.

15. “Therefore, my son, I will say briefly: If thou hast goods, learning, beauty, wit, favour among the people, and everything that in the world is called prosperity, be not too proud; if thou hast not these things, heed it not; forsaking all these things, whether they be with thee or with others, find thy inward employment with me. And then having freed thyself from all created beings, denied also and renounced thy own self, thou wilt find me, and in me the fulness of peace; this I promise thee.”

To give yourself up wholly to Christ is the most blessed thing.

16. And I said: “Lord, my God, I understand that Thou alone art everything. He who hath Thee can easily lack the whole world, for in Thee ​alone he hath more than he can desire. I erred—I now understand it—when I wandered through the world seeking solace in created things. But from this hour I will delight in naught but in Thee. To thee I now already give myself up wholly. Deign, then, to strengthen me, that I may not abandon Thee in favour of created things, nor again commit the follies of which the world is full. May Thy grace preserve me! I put my full trust in it.”

CHAPTER XL. THE PILGRIM IS AS ONE TRANSFORMED

While I speak thus, it appears to me as if there were a strange light around me. The small pictures that I had previously seen partly effaced and broken, I now beheld intact, clear, and beautiful; for thus did they now appear to move before mine eyes. The scattered and broken wheels also were joined together, and out of them was formed a noble instrument similar to a clock, which showed the course of the world, and God’s wondrous guidance. The ladders also had been repaired and placed against the windows, through which the heavenly light penetrated, so that—as I understood—one could look outward. The wings, also, that I had seen with plucked plumes had received a new large plumage, and He who was speaking to me—our Lord—took them and fastened them on to me, and said: “My son, I dwell in two spots, in heaven in my glory, and on earth in the hearts of the humble. And I desire that henceforth thou also shouldst have two dwelling-places, one here at home, where I have promised to be with thee; the other with me in heaven. That thou mayest raise thyself ​thither, I give thee these wings (which are the desire of eternal happines and prayer). If thou dost will it, thou shalt be able to fly upward unto me, and thou shalt have delight in me, and I in thee.”

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Bibliography

Louthan, Howard; Sterk, Andrea (trs.). Johann Amos Comenius: The Labyrinth of the World and the Paradise of the Heart. Paulist Press, 1998.

Lützow, Franz (tr.). Johann Amos Comenius: The Labyrinth of the World and the Paradise of the Heart. Dutton, 1901.

 

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Jean Gerson’s Mountain of Contemplation

Illumination, Master of Cardinal of Bourbon,  Livre de la contemplation,  MS FR 1847, KBR

THE PURPOSE of this post is to describe and recommend a short devotional work, the Mountain of Contemplation (Montaigne de contemplation; 1400) by the French theologian and contemplative, Jean Gerson (1363–1429).  This work is not well known, but very valuable and well worth consideration as an addition to ones reading list.

Jean Gerson is best known as a theologian, educational reformer (a Chancellor of the University of Paris) and Church reformer (e.g., instrumental in resolving the multiple claims to the papacy during the Great Schism). The last earned him the enmity of powerful French political officials, and for a while he was forced into exile.  Gerson was far from a stuffy Canon Law authority and intellectual. He championed the development of spirituality amongst the laity and denounced the intellectual pretensions of academics.

This authentic pietistic interest is reflected in the Mountain of Contemplation, which he wrote as a guide to contemplative life for two of his sisters. Unlike most of his works, written in Latin, this was composed in vernacular French.  It has a warm unpretentious style, full of common sense advice, and abounds in practical analogies taken from ordinary life.

The work takes the form of 45 short sections, numbered and titled, followed by an appendix with 11 rules of conduct. I will try within my limited ability to supply a short summary below.  However I can’t do justice to this helpful and charming work and would rather encourage people to read the whole thing — which, as I say, is not very long.

The guiding image Gerson uses is that of ascending a mountain. Three stages of the ascent are identified, which he calls (1) humble penitence, (2) silence and solitude, and (3) strong perseverance.  This simple three-fold division is very useful because it allows him considerable flexibility in discussing each stage.

The following is a short paraphrase/summary.

Summary

Contemplative life has both degrees and parts. The parts involve affect, on the one hand, and knowledge on the other.  The way of knowledge seeks rational understanding and explanations of the nature of God and his works. This is useful because (1) it can find new truths, (2) it can make truths explicit and teachable; (3) it permits refutation of false or heretical beliefs.  Nevertheless, the way of affect is higher still, and reaches a wisdom greater than knowledge.  An analogy can be drawn with honey:  it’s one thing to analyze the physical properties of honey, and quite another to taste and savor the goodness of its flavor. Affective contemplation, then, is like tasting God.  It supplies ‘savory wisdom’ by means of direct experience (§§ 1−5).

The contemplative life is open to ordinary people as well as theologians. The main requirements are deep-rooted faith and belief in God and in His power, wisdom, goodness and plan for our redemption. The end of contemplative life is love of God.  In order to attain this, the contemplative will want to give up all unnecessary other pursuits and occupations (§§ 6−10).

Opposing our love of God is our love of the world, and the latter must be removed if we are to make spiritual progress.  The adverse effects of love of the world are illustrated by several analogies, including a bird that is snared, one encaged, mortar that clings to the feet of the soul and prevents ascent, a chain or leash, an evil queen who founds a city of confusion, and the clamorous household of a mad woman (§ 11).

Love of the world is very hard — much more than most people realize — to give up. Therefore God assists us in many ways, both by means of gifts and by adversity. Gifts may include direct inspirations and inner motions of the soul, angelic assistance, and other people who supply good teaching and instruction. Forms of instructive adversity may include illness, poverty and war. Blessings we may provide for ourselves include reading about the lives of saints, consciously dedicating ourselves to good, and meditating on salvation.  Every day it is within our power to provide such an experience (§§ 12−15).

At this point he states the three stages of the journey: humble penitence, secrecy of place and silence, and strong perseverance.  Humble penitence seeks to mortify worldly love.  Gerson does not dwell on this topic, leaving its details more or less implicit, but he does mention such traditional penitential practices for chastising the flesh as fasting, lack of sleep, abstinence, tears, and manual labor.  The last leads to a discussion of the active versus contemplative life.  One should not seek the latter without some experience in the former.  The active life involves difficulties and adversities, the overcoming of which will aid us. Like Jacob, we must first marry Leah (active life) before winning as our bride Rachel (contemplative life). Regardless, we will always need to manifest both the qualities of Martha (active life) and Mary (contemplative life), but in different relative degrees.

Love of God is the aim of contemplative life. Humble penitence helps to produce a healthy contempt for worldly and strong yearning for heavenly things. Consider the example of people obsessed with earthly loves (e.g., for money, fame or carnality). We should love God with this much single-minded devotion, and consider every worldly thing in comparison like a dream, a fable, a nonentity (§§ 16−20).

The second level of contemplative ascent consists of stillness and privacy by which means one returns to oneself.  This retreat into a secret place or silence can be understood both in a physical and mental sense. In the exterior sense, one may seek privacy in a secluded place — woods, forest, desert, fields, hidden parts of churches, or merely a hidden part of ones own domicile.  For this preferences differ, and one cannot give a general rule. Bodily posture, including kneeling, sitting and lying down, may contribute to clarity of thought (§§ 21−25).

Three specious criticisms are commonly raised against lay people who follow a contemplative life.  These are (1) that such a person does good only for herself and not others, (2) she wants to know too much and reaches too high; and (3) in the end it only leads to disappointment, madness and melancholy.  These objections are easily refuted (§§ 26−29).

As he prepares to consider the highest stage, he discusses generally the nature and fruits of contemplation. He reaffirms the necessity of grace for spiritual progress. In contemplation the soul experiences elevation, unity and simplicity. To reach this condition involves a combination of powerful and holy meditation, and burning love.  The soul suspends other operations, wholly concentrated and absorbed, oblivious to all else, like painters, or as in a famous story about Archimedes.

Here follows a short summary of Richard of St. Victor’s multidimensional taxonomy of contemplative experience as given in his work, The Mystical Ark.  There Richard describes six levels, three modes, and three qualities of contemplation.

Of the levels, two are in the imagination, two in the reason (ratio), and two in the intelligence (intellectus). The three modes of experience are enlargement (dilatatio mentis), ascent (sublevatio mentis) and cutting off (alienatio mentis) of conscious awareness.  The three qualities of contemplative experience are a sense of wonder, of deep devotion, and of spiritual enjoyment or comfort. Gerson refers readers to Richard for more details (§§ 30−32).

We now proceed to consider the third level of strong perseverance, the summer to which the preceding levels are like winter and spring, respectively, or the noon to which they are like night and morning. Here the soul is consumed in its quest for union with the divine. Nothing remains for this person but to serve and love God, to think and to speak of Him. The soul has taken root again in the good earth and bears fruit. Chastisements are seen as signs of God’s love, good and necessary (§ 33).

Common obstacles and hindrances that occur at this point are discussed. Several are suggested by the analogy to climbing a physical mountain: some people give up the climb too easily, stopping and descending as soon as they meet with difficulty. Others climb to impatiently, trying to master the summit without beginning at the base and the middle.  The base is the humble consideration of one’s sins and faults. Still others carry too weighty a burden in the form of worldly occupation and the great amount of thought one puts into it. Others believe that they already are at the summit when they are not. Many neglect to always hold their right hand out to the One who must pull them up from above. Our guide is God’s grace.

Other common hindrances include mortifying ones body too much, reading too much (in reading one should seek devotion more than acquisition of knowledge), and frequently jumping from one path to another, instead of staying on a single course (§§ 34−36).

There is diversity in the methods employed and experiences in this phase, as illustrated in the lives of such saints as Saint Augustine, St. Gregory the Great, St. Jerome and St. Bernard (§§ 37−38).

Another example (probably from his own experience) is of a man who, upon experiencing spiritual dryness, resolved to sit at the foot of a tree for several hours each day, praying to and imploring the intercession of angels and many saints, one by one.  While difficult at first, before long the practice became easier, and eventually he could enter a contemplative state with less effort (§ 39).

Continuing with the same theme, he relates an idea of William of Auxerre (c.1145–1231): that we should follow the example of paupers, pilgrims, prisoners or alms seekers — and earnestly and humbly plead for help from God, angels and saints. No books will serve one so well as strong perseverance.  Other helpful methods include remembrance of ones own death, and the great spiritual needs of friends who must likewise face death.  Let us have pity and mercy on ourselves and others (§§ 40−42).

By way of summary, a helpful analogy is proposed.  Imagine a sea filled with all kinds of people sailing hither and thither on various ships, mostly ending in wrecks.  On the shore a person watches, detached, from a very high rock. The rock has three levels, which correspond to faith, hope and charity.  This is the rock of contemplation, and the three theological virtues correspond to the aforementioned levels of penitence, withdrawal, and strong perseverance.  Those who endure may reach no end of beautiful acts of contemplation.  One may know and sense God ineffably, as in grasping a sweetness, a fullness, a taste, a melody (§§ 43−44).

Contemplation is something vast and abundant, with countless forms of experience. In the end we may say that God’s grace can be especially present to the soul in three ways:

1. By justification, which cannot be felt but which makes the soul pleasing to God.

2. By consolations and spiritual joys, such as:

a. A feeling of melting into some sweetness;

b. A wondrous certitude, wherein one is greatly displeased with oneself and takes ones sole pleasure in God;

c. A sense of expansion of the heart or intelligence that finds God to be so excellent and infinitely majestic, all on Earth seems as nothing except as it reveals God’s presence;

d. A spiritual, sober intoxication causing one to praise God and see everything as full of God’s glory and praise (Ps 19:1; Ps 96:11−12; Ps 150:6) .

3. Ecstatic union such as St. Paul experienced (2 Cor 12:2−4), concerning which Gerson considers himself not worthy to discuss (§§ 45).

Discussion

As a practical work I enjoyed Mountain of Contemplation very much.  It whets my appetite to read his more technical On Mystical Theology, as well as another vernacular piece, On Spiritual Begging (Mendicité spirituelle).

I’d also like to learn more about his proposed reforms to theological education.  Gerson maintained that universities’ over-emphasis on rationalism and book-learning contribute to pride and elitism in the academic ranks. Clerical education, he believed, also needs to cultivate piety, humility and personal holiness.  Clearly there are parallels here with modern universities.

I also found the work helpful in supplying perspective on the historical relationship between affective and rational forms of Christian mysticism. In St. Augustine these two strands are inseparable and mutually reinforcing. Augustine was a Platonist, and Platonism is rational mysticism par excellence. For the Platonist, Intellect is no hindrance to affect. Rather, the more we develop our Intellect, the more we can understand God’s works in the world, giving greater cause to love and praise Him.  Moreover, the more we experience the greatness of human Intellect and its seemingly unlimited capacity, the more cause we have for gratitude to, awe of, and love for God.

Then why did affective and rational mysticism become separated?  Did it simply happen when the works of Pseudo-Dionysius — for whom affective and apophatic mysticism dominate — reached the West?  But in that case, why were Richard of St. Victor and St. Bonaventure able to maintain a fully integral mysticism, combining affective and rational components, in the 13th century?  These two influential writers successfully blended the Augustinian and Dionysian traditions.

Gerson may supply us with a clue: that as the universities grew to dominate theology, integral spirituality — one combining affect and intellect — gave way to a dry, radical rationalism.  In seeming to emphasize affect, Gerson is not so much dismissing the intellectual component of mysticism (indeed, he plainly has a high opinion of Richard of St. Victor and St. Bonaventure), as much as countering the radical rationalism of the universities.  At the same time Gerson is trying to democratize contemplation and mystical theology by stressing that it is available to all, not just the educated elite, and even to illiterate people. These considerations may have caused him to overstate the case for affectivity in Mountain of Contemplation.

Regardless, it does appear that about this time the paths of affective and rational mysticism, which had already begun to diverge, now did so more starkly and permanently.  After this we see a flourishing of affective mysticism (the trend continues today in the form of  ‘centering prayer’), yet few good examples of a rational or fully integral approach (possible exceptions might be Cambridge Platonism, Neothomism and American Transcendentalism).

However today the average education is much higher than it was in the Middle Ages.  It therefore makes less sense to argue that a large section of the population cannot understand or profit from the intellectual component of Christian mysticism, and can only operate at the level of  ‘simple faith.’  Therefore an integral mysticism that combines affective and intellectual parts (while still allowing for the ultimate primacy of the former — something on which all Christian mystics agree) is arguably more broadly appropriate.

We might question his comments about using fasts, vigils and other physical ascetical practices to develop humble penitence. These seem not only antiquated, but unnecessary and counterproductive. Is it not enough to look honestly within ones own breast to bring one to abject penitence? To, like Socrates, see a multitudinous beast lurking within (Plato, Republic 8)? Will not any honest person say with St. Paul, O wretched man that I am! (Rom 7: 24a) and arrive at deep humility? A sober appraisal of the world’s pomp and vanity reveals clearly enough the necessity of looking to God alone. Beyond these it’s unclear what physical mortification of the flesh accomplishes, except to tax strength and produce its own kind of pride. Gerson does, however, explicitly warm against excess here.

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Bibliography

Glorieux, Palémon (ed.). Jean Gerson, Oeuvres Complètes. 10 vols. (Paris, 1960–1973); volume 7.

Combes, André. Ioannis Carlerii de Gerson de Mystica Theologia (Lugano, Switzerland: Thesaurus Mundi, 1958).

Combes, André. Théologie Mystique de Gerson: Profil de son évolution. Paris, 1963−1964.

McGuire, Brian Patrick (tr.). Jean Gerson: Early Works. Classics of Western Spirituality. Paulist Press, 1998; Mountain of Contemplation, pp. 75−127.
https://books.google.com/?id=Ed2Mzyn9WtsC&pg=PA75

McGuire, Brian Patrick (ed.). A Companion to Jean Gerson. Brill, 2006.

Severin, Renée M. Teaching Contemplation: The Role of Humility and Dialogue in Jean Gerson’s Mystical Works. Mystics Quarterly 32.1/2 (2006): 1−34.

Zinn, Grover A. (tr.). Richard of St. Victor: The Twelve Patriarchs, The Mystical Ark and Book Three of The Trinity. Classics of Western Spirituality. Paulist Press, 1979.

Art:  Master of the Cardinal de Bourbon.  Illuminations, Le secret parlement de l’homme contemplatif à son âme = Livre de la mendicité spirituelle; Livre de la contemplation; [Ars moriendi]. 1475? Bibliotheque Nationale de Belgique (KBR) MS FR 1847. https://belgica.kbr.be/BELGICA/doc/SYRACUSE/16972996/

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On the Psychological and Sapiential Meaning of the Book of Psalms

Illuminated manuscript, 14th century. King David. Oxford Bodleian Library,

Preface: A Word for the Wise

THE BOOK OF PSALMS is a great treasure, a source of immense consolation and inspiration and one of the greatest religious scriptures humanity possesses.  Few people make a sufficient effort to penetrate the depth of its meanings.  My aim here is not to attempt to explain all the  meanings — psychological and spiritual — of Psalms. Rather I would be content if this short work motivates a few people to read Psalms more attentively and devoutly.  Therefore the more brief the exposition, the better.  Only a word to the wise — those who already hunger and thirst for inner righteousness — is sufficient.  A more elaborate treatment would not benefit such readers, for ultimately they must learn by their own work and engagement with the work.  Neither would it persuade those others not already motivated and ready to commence such study.  A brief treatment, moreover, duly acknowledges the limitations of my own powers.

Those who have read anything I’ve written will probably know that my orientation is in line with Roman Catholicism and Orthodox Christianity.  On the other hand, I also have the perspective of a (1) contemporary psychologist with (2) a strong appreciation of ancient philosophy.  I mention these things only to reassure prospective readers they need not fear being exposed to ‘heretical’, vague esoteric, or merely idiosyncratic notions on the one hand, or dogmatic Christian moralizing, on the other.  Everything presented here is given in the spirit of plausible conjecture — possibilities which readers may experimentally confirm or disconfirm based on their own experience.

The discussion here has three sections.  First, an introduction, including a list of guiding premises, will be presented. Second, the key themes of Psalms will be identified. Third, these themes will be explained in comments on particular psalms and verses.  To try to explain every line in every psalm would be a mistake, I believe.  The point is to equip each reader with sufficient skills to productively make their own interpretations: in learning from Scripture, the seeking and the finding often coincide.

If the writing below seems in places more like an outline than polished prose, that is by design.  Reading a single psalm is more valuable than any commentary, and there is no reason to delay readers from this pursuit by unnecessary prolixity here.  It is not expected that everything said here is correct.  It is only hoped that some parts are.

Introduction

Premises

Our main premises are as follows: (1) the Book of Psalms is a unified work that carries deep meanings of both a spiritual and psychological nature; (2) it can be understood as conveying in a concise and comprehensive form what has been called the perennial philosophy, and (3) as a means to unlock psychological and sapiential meanings of Psalms we may do well to follow the exegetical methods of the Jewish Platonist philosopher, Philo of Alexandria.  Although Philo mentioned Psalms infrequently (Note 1), he produced many commentaries on the Old Testament books of Genesis and Exodus, and there is scarcely any theme in Psalms that is not also found in these earlier books.  As we shall see, the system of Philo is well supported by modern psychology, including Carl Jung’s archetypal psychology, ego/sub-ego theory, and contemporary Stoic cognitive psychology.  However we emphasize that our interest here is not Philo, but the Book of Psalms. In a sense, Philo serves mainly as a particularly clear and eminent example of the tradition of Greek (or Alexandrian) allegorical interpretation of the sapiential meanings of myth and scripture.

The Perennial Philosophy

Psalms is one of the Wisdom Books of the Old Testament.  This designation acknowledges a common purpose with the other Wisdom Books, including Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Wisdom of Solomon, Sirach, Canticle and Job. The subject is a transformation of consciousness, moral renewal, and the attainment of ‘wisdom.’ By wisdom here we mean neither abstract metaphysical truths nor practical wisdom (phronesis), but rather moral truths of the human soul, ones that may be directly experienced.  Wisdom in this sense might be understood as a distinct state (or set of related states) of consciousness.

Psalms expresses in a very complete and useful form what has been termed the perennial philosophy.  The perennial philosophy is a system of principles and practices, at the intersection of religion, philosophy, and moral psychology, that supply a blueprint for self-realization.  As human nature is basically constant throughout history and across cultures, and as the obstacles to self-realization are similarly constant, we should expect that similar means of removing psychological obstacles and for achieving self-realization develop across time and place.

The term perennial philosophy has an long history.  It goes at least as far back as the Renaissance (e.g., Marsilio Ficino and Pico della Mirandola). Later proponents include such figures as Agostino Steuco, Leibniz and, more recently, Aldous Huxley (1947).  As we understand it here, the perennial philosophy is roughly synonymous with ascetico-mysticism.  In the ascetical or negative aspect, this entails a moderation of passions (thus harmonizing them), elimination of moral error (wrong judgment and bad action), and control of thoughts.  This produces a mental condition of undisturbedness (ataraxia) and dispassion (apatheia) — or, more accurately, properly measured or ordered passions (metropatheai).

In the mystical or positive aspect, mental calmness and harmony allow one to be more attentive to subtle, transcendental and spiritual thoughts, judgments and impulses. The fruits of this include correct reasoning, spiritual senses, holiness and divinization (becoming godlike).  At the same time, a purification and moral re-alignment of the psyche allows one to experience material existence with greater vitality, meaning and purpose; one may experience the world as transfigured.

In discussing the perennial philosophy, some mistakenly place undue emphasis on the attainment of a momentous and ultimate mystical experience of Cosmic Consciousness.  However, especially since this is an experience enjoyed only by very few, the more relevant goal is to (1) be divine while (2) living in the world. That is, to experience oneself and the world — however briefly, for it can never be a permanent state in this life — as an incarnate divine being.  In addition, psychological salvation in this life, meanwhile, prepares us for a better afterlife.

A useful framework for understanding the perennial philosophy is the traditional three-fold distinction between stages of (1) purification, (2) illumination and (3) unification (Underhill, 1927).  The last itself has three components: unification within ourselves, with God, and with the world (including other human beings.)  These, it should be added, are not fixed stages that one finishes completely before moving to the next.  Rather one moves between them constantly throughout ones life.

The greatest obstacles to self-realization are (1) our ego, and (2) our immature, selfish emotional and acquisitive tendencies.  Our journey — a natural developmental process, biologically, psychologically, and spiritually — is one from what is traditionally called carnal (or worldly) mindedness (an orientation towards acquisition of material and sensory goods) to spiritual mindedness and transcendence (orientation towards spiritual and eternal goods, and, ultimately to God).  This is not only a traditional religious and philosophical concept, but is also present in modern psychological theories of moral development (e.g., Kohlberg).  It is a natural progression from infantile narcissism to a transcendent personality structure.

Self-realization is incompatible with the myriad forms of psychological dysfunction and disordering of thought we experience on a daily basis.  Therefore the purification or ascetical component of the perennial philosophy should be of interest to secular psychologists as well as those with religious sensibilities.

Part of the telos or desired end state of the perennial philosophy is a life in harmony with Nature (understood in the broadest sense to include both physical and metaphysical realities).  This condition is more or less synonymous as a life in accord with Truth, the Way, the TAO, Torah, etc.

To live in this way, one must remain constantly receptive to higher inspirations and guidances. This, I propose, is the true meaning of what the Bible calls following or heeding God’s guidances, judgments, directions, commands, etc.  By this view, we should seek not so much to be ‘obedient’ to God’s commandments in the sense of following fixed, written dictates; but rather to remain constantly and spontaneously attentive and receptive to subtle higher promptings  The former is, as St. Paul explains in his letter to the Romans, the ‘law which killeth’; the latter is the way of the Spirit which giveth life.

The concept of a core perennial philosophy still allows for variation in its expression as well as its gradual refinement and evolution over time. The Bible is a good complement to Platonism, because it better emphasizes the central importance of ones loving relationship with a personal God, and a God who actively reaches out by grace and Providence to assist with our psychological and spiritual salvation.

Here our main concern is in those parts of the perennial philosophy that may concern both secular psychologists and ‘religionists.’  The perennial philosophy is concerned with the attainment of immortality or a propitious afterlife, as well as with flourishing in this one.  We by no means disregard the former concern, but propose that in order to achieve it, then the former — a good, wise and virtuous present life — is a necessary stepping stone.  Therefore by focusing here on how Psalms relates to the more psychological component of the perennial philosophy, it is hoped to be relevant to the greatest number of readers.

Philo of Alexandria

Philo (c. 25 BC − c. 50 AD) was a prominent member of the Jewish community of Alexandria and a Platonist philosopher.  He wrote numerous books explaining the Old Testament — chiefly the five books of the Pentateuch.  Though he wrote with different purposes for several audiences, his best known works today contain a detailed allegorical interpretation of Genesis and Exodus.  These apply the philosophical principles of Platonic, Stoic and Pythagorean philosophy to the stories in these Old Testament Books.  Philo’s brilliant allegorical interpretations remain unsurpassed. His work was largely ignored by later Jewish exegetes, who gravitated instead towards the style of Midrash.  However Christian Platonists, including Clement of Alexandria and Origen, adopted his method.  Later Christians strongly influenced by Philonic interpretation include Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa and Maximus Confessor (in Eastern Christianity) and Ambrose of Milan, Jerome, and Augustine of Hippo in the Latin tradition. In the Middle Ages, allegorical interpretation based largely on methods pioneered by Philo became a fixture in the Latin and Byzantine traditions of Bible exegesis.  Ironically, then, Philo, a Jewish Platonist, might well be considered the father of Christian allegorical interpretation of the Bible.

Reasons we may expect success by taking Philo as a guide to the psychological and sapiential meaning of Psalms, include the following:

• Philo wrote two millennia ago. While modern society is more advanced technologically, the most valuable religious and philosophical ideas we possess originate from antiquity.  If the ancients were sophisticated enough to write the Iliad, Odyssey and the Old Testament, we should be similarly respectful of the skill and depth of insight of ancient allegorical commentators like Philo.

• Moreover, Philo, writing in the rich, varied, and cosmopolitan milieu of Alexandria, was able to draw from the best of several more ancient traditions, including not only Judaism, but many Greek philosophers, as well as potentially from elements of Egyptian religion.

• Philo was heir to the Stoic method of interpreting Greek myths as philosophical allegories. Heraclitus the Allegorist — whose Homeric Allegories (Russell & Konstan, 2005) is especially noteworthy in this regard — wrote a little after Philo’s time, and applies methods that had been in development for some time.  The Greek-influenced Roman poet, Virgil, writing around the time of Philo’s birth, not only incorporated philosophical themes into his mythic epic, the Aeneid, but quite possibly did this consciously and intentionally.  Philo was, arguably, personally not too far removed from the Jewish Wisdom tradition of the Bible, himself having once been considered the author of the Wisdom of Solomon.  Thus with Philo we arguably have the tradition interpreting itself.

Philonic Interpretation

A brief explanation of Philo’s system of interpretation and its connections with modern personality theory is found in Uebersax (2012).  The main features relevant to our present task may be summarized as follows:

1. Personification

Philo’s main tool for allegorical interpretation is personification: each person in the Old Testament is understood to correspond to some structure or operation of the psyche.  A generic term for these psychological correspondents is mental dispositions, but this word is not very informative. We may understand these psychological correspondents in a more technical sense as what modern writers have called subpersonalities (e.g., Rowan, 1999) or sub- or part-egos (Sorokin, 1956; cf. Uebersax 2014).  According to this view, human personality can be understood as a configuration of interacting, smaller components: in an important sense, our mind operates somewhat not as a single self, but as a community of sub-selves.  At a biological level, each sub-self can be understood as a complex, with both cognitive and emotional aspects.

Subegos or subpersonalities are evidently very numerous (for example, we have, in theory, a separate one associated with every social role, personal interest, ambition, attachment, and biological instinct).  In addition, we tend to create in the psyche internalized versions of other people — actual people we’ve known, and even historical and fictional ones.  So, as unsettling as the notion may seem at first, we have within our minds countless numbers of sub-egos of various levels of complexity.

It is not necessary, however, to reify or take too literally this theory. Our present discussion applies if we merely allow that our minds operate “something like this” — that is, as if we were congeries of competing subpersonalities. [Note 2]

2. Hierarchical organization

These sub-egos or subpersonalities are of different orders of complexity.  For example, we may have individual sub-egos associated with particular foods we like to eat, and also one for the eating and enjoyment of food in general. In Philo’s system, Old Testament references to tribes and rulers correspond to smaller sub-egos and higher-level, ruling ones, respectively.

3. Internal conflict

Having so many components of the psyche, each with its individual interests and aims, naturally sets the stage for inner conflict.  For Philo, of primary concern is the conflict between, on the one hand, our virtuous and holy parts, and, on the other, our vicious and impious ones.  Here Philo reflects not only his Jewish roots, but his grounding in Platonic, Pythagorean and Stoic philosophy, which all have a somewhat dualistic model of human nature.  In keeping with the Platonic and Pythagorean view, our virtuous nature is concerned with eternal things, and our lower nature focused on material and world things.

For Philo, this fundamental conflict in human nature is represented repeatedly by contrasting pairs of figures:  Cain vs. Abel, Jacob vs. Esau, Joseph vs. his brothers, Moses vs. Pharaoh, the Israelites vs. their enemies, etc.

Similarly, in Greek myths this fundamental inner war (psychomachia) is symbolized by, for example, the conflicts of the Olympians vs. the Titans, and, in the Iliad, the Greeks vs. the Trojans. The same symbolic trope is expressed in a very elaborate and psychologically complex form in the great Indian epic, the Mahabharata (see Uebersax, 2021).

We should note that, although in an actual war the goal may be to completely destroy an enemy, that seems less feasible in the case of internal ‘war.’  Even though they may seem to oppose virtuous tendencies, worldly concerns are part of us, and they tend to have some foundation in instinct and biology.  Hence a more productive goal may be to seek harmonization or subordination of our lower nature to the higher.  In effect, rather than raze the heathen cities of our soul, we may wish to make them client states.

A simple way to sum up the preceding is this:  that within each person’s psyche there are inner correspondents to all the main figures of the Old Testament.  We have an inner Adam and Eve, and inner Cain and Abel, an inner Noah, Abraham, Jacob, and Moses, inner Israelites and Egyptians, etc.  But the Bible is doing more than reminding us that these inner characteristics exist.  It uses this figurative language to explain how we can achieve a more happy, harmonious and productive inner organization.

4. Ethics

Philo adheres closely to the virtue ethics that run consistently — whether implicitly as in Hesiod’s myths, or explicitly as in Platonism and Stoicism — throughout Greek philosophy. According to this view, the common or unredeemed condition of the human mind is fallen.  We see this view graphically expressed as Plato’s cave (Republic 7.514a–521d).  The fallen condition affects both the intelligence and the will.  Until we are redeemed, our minds are habitually sunk in folly, delusion and chronic negative thinking, and we are unhappy, unproductive and unfulfilled.

In the three books of his Allegorical Interpretation, Philo uses the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden to supply an insightful and detailed analysis of the cognitive psychology of the fall of the psyche.

While this fallen state is our usual condition, it is not our natural one: we are intended and designed for a better and higher psychological life — to which it is the task of true philosophy and religion to restore us.  For Philo, the process of return and redemption basically follows the already mentioned three stages of ascetico-mysticism: moral purification (ascesis), illumination and union (Underhill, 1928).

The ethical summum bonum for Philo is union with God.  This means becoming like God (being holy, virtuous and wise; cf. Plato, Theateus 176a−b), gaining in some sense a vision or knowledge of God, and, finally, having a personal loving relationship with God.

Again, various events and figures in the Old Testament, for Philo, are associated with each of these stages.  For example, Jacob is a symbol for the practicer of ascesis.

5. Spirituality

Ultimately Philo sees the ideal human life as spiritually oriented. This involves the moderation of appetites and passions, the practice of prayer and contemplation, the development of spiritual senses, and an influx of spiritual inspirations, insights and guidances.

In modern (e.g., Jungian) psychology this has various counterparts, including the integration of conscious and unconscious mental operation, the ‘sacred marriage’ of ego and Self, the harmonious cooperation of the brain hemispheres (McGilchrist, 2009), and Being-cognition (Maslow, 1971).

St. Paul — a contemporary of Philo, and, like him, familiar with the prevailing currents of Stoic ethics, as well as steeped in the psychology of the Old Testament — summed up our condition as a tension between carnal mindedness (concern with worldly things) and spiritual mindedness (a personality organized by spiritual concerns). He also uses the terms ‘old man’ and ‘new man’ to refer to these conflicting dimensions of our personality. This is what St. Paul means when he says the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other (Gal. 5:17).  The redeemed psychological condition then, for both St. Paul and Philo, can be understood as the return to spiritual mindedness.  To jump ahead a little historically, the movements of psychological fall and salvation correspond, in the system of Neoplatonism’s founder, Plotinus, to what he calls the descent and ascent of the soul (Uebersax, 2014).

Jungian Psychology

Besides its connection with subpersonality theory, Philo’s system finds counterparts in the archetypal psychology of Carl Jung (in fact, Jung admits borrowing the term ‘archetype’ from Philo). While they are by no means identical, Philo’s and Jung’s systems agree on these points:

• Scripture and myth serve the purpose of communicating universal psychological truths;

• Their chief aims include the amelioration of mental dysfunction and attaining of self-realization; and

• The characters of myths and scripture are images of archetypes, that is, representations of universal structures and processes of the human psyche. Philo does not, though, as do some neo-Jungians, see archetypes as existing autonomously as somewhat like living metaphysical entities; for example, Abraham in Genesis is an archetypal symbol, but not an ‘Archetype’ with independent existence.

In consequence, both Philo and Jungian writers like Jung himself and Campbell (1949) understand exegesis of myth and scripture as in large part a deciphering of the universal psychological meanings of the figures and stories therein.

The Jungian psychiatrist, Edward Edinger, wrote several books applying archetypal exegesis to the Bible. His works are interesting and worth reading, but must be approached cautiously, as they are often no more than half-true. To his credit Edinger writes well and draws into discussion an interesting array of works from numerous disciplines — for example, Ginzberg’s Legends of the Jews and Milton’s Paradise Lost. On the negative side he bears an undisguised and militant antipathy towards organized religion, especially Christianity.  He implies that traditional Christianity is obsolete and will be replaced by a new system based on Jungian psychology!  As a result, his interpretations frequently miss the mark.  His prejudice filters out any conclusion that might present traditional religion in any but an unflattering light

These cautions notwithstanding, Jungian psychology supplies a vocabulary and conceptual scheme very helpful for understanding Philo’s system — and the psychological meaning of Psalms — in modern terms. It also supplies an alternative perspective — something valuable, if not indispensable in any scientific-minded investigation to help prevent the close-minded dogmatism to which the human ego is always vulnerable.

Related Literature

As noted, Philo does not cite Psalms often, but the handful of examples in his works suffice to show that he did not hesitate to apply the same exegetical methods there that he used for interpreting Genesis and Exodus.  Evagrius of Ponticus — strongly influenced by Origen (who himself used Philo’s exegetical methods) authored Scholia on Psalms (Dysinger, 2005), but these unfortunately has not been fully translated into English.  Pseudo-Procopius of Gaza (an anonymous author, possibly Byzantine) wrote a Commentary on Proverbs (Gohl, 2019) that adheres closely to the Platonic/Philonic psychology.

St. Augustine learned Bible interpretation from St. Ambrose — who himself was well acquainted withe Philo’s works, producing Latin paraphrases of several of them.  Therefore we are not surprised to find in Augustine’s Annotations on Psalms many examples of Philo-like interpretation.  However these are mixed with several other levels of interpretation.

A modern compilation of patristic interpretations of Psalms can be found in Blaising and Hardin (2014) and Wesselschmidt (2007; cf. Neale & Littledale, 1869−1874). Spurgeon’s Treasury of David contains many choice excerpts on the inner meaning of Psalms by writers from 16th through the 19th centuries.

Themes of Psalms

The 150 psalms all express a relatively small set of interacting and interpenetrating psychological themes.  These are expressed in the voice of the psalmist, but as it is we who pray the psalms, they must be understood as applying to ourselves:

• Lamentation. We lament being persecuted, oppressed, threatened or held captive by powerful opponents.

• Penitence. We acknowledge and experience regret for past wrongdoings, and for our own weakness and propensity for sin.

• Trust. We trust, hope, and have confidence in salvation from God.

• Thanks. We thank God for deliverance,.

• Praise. We praise God for His goodness, glory and countless blessings.

• Contemplation and ascent. We express a desire to ascend to a more contemplative and spiritual condition of mind.

• God’s Name. Frequent reference is made to God’s name.  Here God’s name seems to be understood in the sense of reputation.  Confidence is expressed that God will want to redeem us that much more, because in doing so his reputation is enhanced, leading other people to seek salvation.

• Suffering servant. Many verses refer to a suffering servant: a virtuous character who endures hardship and makes sacrifices to aid the process of salvation.  Conventionally this has been taken as a prophecy of the life and death of Jesus.  That interpretation may have had some value as an apologetic device in the early years of Church history.  However that meaning has little practical value today.  As we believe Psalms has enduring relevance, it seems reasonable to prefer a psychological meaning.  Hence the suffering servant would, to put the matter in the broadest of terms, be some aspect of the psyche which willingly undergoes suffering as part of the process of psychological and moral salvation.

These are not independent themes, but interact in a complex way as saga of our salvation.  It seems fairly clear that a kind of cyclicity is involved, such that there is a process of fall into sin and mental disorder, and return.  This cycle repeats itself in ones life — perhaps on a daily basis.  There is something like a holographic quality to Psalms, such that each psalm helps illumine the meaning of the others.

Finally, we may briefly note the range of characters in Psalms.  There is, first, the psalmist.  Sometimes this is explicitly identified as David, and sometimes someone else.  It seems uncertain — if not plainly unlikely — that any of the psalms were written by a historical King David.  Besides speaking to himself, the psalmist addresses several other parties, including God (the LORD) and his persecutors (a term used more or less synonymously with ‘heathen’).  A figure that often appears is the “Son.”  Again, it does us little practical good to equate this reflexively with an allusion to Jesus Christ.  From a psychological standpoint, rather, the Son might be understood as a new component of the psyche which develops to facilitate the inner process of salvation.  In short, we might think of this as an ‘inner Christ,’ or Christ consciousness.  Finally, references are made to a judge who condemns and punishes the wicked.  Once again the most productive course is to try to associate this figure with some inner psychic mechanism.

Let this suffice, then, as an introduction.  Everything said here must be regarded as tentative.  Nothing is stated dogmatically, and everything said here is really just an example of what might be true — an initial approximation.  To arrive at true meanings is something that requires dedicated and repeated reading, prayer and inspiration. In the end, perhaps these things cannot be communicated by words to others.  It is hoped merely that this short introduction will convince readers that there is a valuable psychological message in Psalms, and help motivate people to seek it.

Because so much depends on personal effort, the last thing that would be appropriate, I believe, is an exhaustive line-by-line commentary on Psalms.  It’s much better to illustrate how the reader may apply the interpretive rules implicit in the above to arrive at personally relevant meanings.  Accordingly, I will simply perform a commentary on a few representative psalms — which should be sufficient to demonstrate the ‘Philonic’ method of interpretation.

Interpretation

From here the plan is to apply the principles above to the Book of Psalms.  To begin, we will initially consider Psalms 1 and 2.  More material will then be added over time.

To avoid repetition, symbols and meanings once discussed in an earlier psalm will not be repeated when the appear in later ones.  Therefore it will not be necessary to treat every verse, or every psalm.

Psalm 23 (the Good Shepherd) and Psalm 119 (the Great Psalm) have previously been considered (Psalm 23, Psalm 119).

Text and numbering of the psalms follows the King James Version (KJV).

Psalm 1

The first psalm has traditionally been seen as a preface to the entire book, summarizing and touching on all it’s main themes.  (Fuller discussions of Psalm 1 along the present lines can be found here and here.)

[1] Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.

• Blessed.  Makarios.  At the beginning we see that the aim is the condition of blessedness.  This can be understood here as the telos or ethical summum bonum of human life.

• Next follows three principal obstacles to blessedness, which can be interpreted as corresponding to characteristic problems associated with the three Platonic divisions of the psyche.

• Counsel of the ungodly.  The rational part of our mind is subjected to impious counsels — that is, thoughts that originate from purely material and worldly concerns.

• Way of sinners.  Mental temptations associated with aberrations of the desiring/appetitive part of the psyche.

• Seat of the scornful.  The scornful (also translated as scoffers) represent cynical, overly critical and hostile thoughts that originate in the ambitious or spirited part of the mind.

[2] But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.

• Delight.  Hedone: what the will seeks, what is in a broad sense pleasurable.

• Law of the Lord.  Not written commandments, but a more subtle concept: remaining in a state of continuing communion with God, attentive and responding to God’s mental guidances, inspirations, directions, etc.

• Meditate.  Directing ones mind to, making the effort to focus attention on.

• Day and night.  Day may be understood as times of mental clarity.  Nights, as in ‘dark nights of the soul,’ where the clear and tangible signs of God’s activity in ones life are not present; one must then exert effort to persevere in the Way.

[3] And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.

• Rivers of water.  Streams of spiritual nutrition, flowing from the unconscious — but ultimately from God.

• Fruit.  Spiritual fruits of insight, wisdom, virtue.  Also acts of charity, including socially relevant creative activity.

• Prosper.  We cannot prosper when we are not focused on God and God’s ways, because in that case (1) we are divided against ourselves, (2) were we to prosper in this condition, it would fuel pride and draw us away from God; and (3) it glorifies God and inspires other people if we prosper through inner righteousness.

[4] The ungodly are not so: but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away.

• Ungodly.  Ourselves, when our thoughts and actions are directed by worldly concerns.

• Chaff, wind.  This trope, which includes the notion of scattering, is most interesting, and evidently important as it is found throughout Psalms, as well as elsewhere in the Bible. Here it may mean that when we are in a worldly condition of mind, our thoughts are inevitably scattered.  Scattering of thoughts may be a kind of punishment, as in the confusion of tongues in the Tower of Babel story.

[5] Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.

• Judgment.  Not a historical Last Judgment, but some existential, ultimate inner cognitive judgment.  This may allude to an ultimate arbiter and judge of our thoughts within the psyche.  We will return to this topic in the next psalm.

• Congregation of the righteous.  Following our hermeneutic rules, this would suggest some kind of assembly or congregation of virtuous elements of the psyche. The word suggests a large number, rather than a small band.  This is a lofty topic about which we simply know virtually nothing, nor has it been the subject of much rational speculation.  Compare this, however, with what vast choirs of angels may symbolize at the psychological level (cf. Pseudo-Dionysius).

[6] For the LORD knoweth the way of the righteous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish.

• Shall perish.  Our ungodly thoughts, the fruits of our worldly dispositions, have no permanence.  They are ultimately unreal (in a Platonic sense); and, as we have said above, conflict with other worldly thoughts.  Only thoughts that originate in or comport with our spiritual nature are harmonious, within and without.  That which is internally inconsistent and incongruous with Nature will be short-lived.

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Psalm 2

The second psalm is, again, sometimes understood as a preface, as it introduces basic themes that are repeatedly addressed later.

Whereas the first psalm excites our hopes, the second presents difficulties now to be faced.

[1] Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing?

• Heathen rage.  The heathen are worldly dispositions or subpersonalities, those concerned with achievement of ambitions and satisfaction of appetites.  Rage, rebellion, agitation and disquietude may accompany the frustration of the aims of these elements.

• imagine a vain thing.  This suggests a connection between the activity of our frustrated carnal nature and deluded thinking.  This view is not implausible or without precedent.  In Plato’s cave, prisoners’ thinking is imaginary and deluded, as they consider mere shadows on the wall.  The chains that prevent them from turning away from delusion are their attachments to unmoderated passions. Recall the paradox of Socrates: are we ignorant because we are unvirtuous, or unvirtuous because we are ignorant?

• We should not necessarily assume, however, that passions automatically become unruly when frustrated.  Rather, it would seem we are designed to seek inner harmony, and it is in the interests of all sub-egos to cooperate with this.  It could be, then, that some outside or additional element — a free-floating urge to disharmony — exists.  And, if so, we may find this and its remedy described in Psalms and elsewhere in myth and scripture.

[2] The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD, and against his anointed, saying,
[3] Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us.

• kings of the earth. As already mentioned, certain higher-order carnal dispositions exist that somehow control and organize others.  Insight into the psychological meaning of ‘kings of the earth’ can be found in Philo’s writings, as he addresses theme as it occurs throughout Genesis and Exodus.  Pharaoh is the most important example of such a king of the earth.

• take counsel together.  Implying some capacity of these sub-egos to communicate and form confederations.  This confederation potential of sub-egos has been noted by both Rowan (1990) and Lester (2012).

• his anointed. See below.

[4] He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision.

• He that sitteth in the heavens.  This could refer either to God, or a Higher Self.  Perhaps one can say that both are meant.  Importantly, from the perspective of the ego, this almost doesn’t matter.  The ego knows only there is something above it — some benevolent, saving power to which it must turn.

• Further, assuming God and a Higher Self are separate entities, it is possible that the latter mediates the relationship of the ego to God.  In humbling itself before a Higher Self, then, the ego is also humbling itself before God.

[5] Then shall he speak unto them in his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure.

• Commentators on Psalms have long found a stumbling block in the frequent references to a wrathful God, whom the psalmist asks to bring about the destruction of enemies.  Taken literally this is diametrically opposed to the sound Gospel principle of loving and forgiving ones enemies.  Our strong-psychological reading of Psalms removes this difficulty.  The enemies are inner enemies.  The right use of anger and wrath is to empower the overcoming of ones own vice. Wrath is misused when directed against other human beings.

[6] Yet have I set my king upon my holy hill of Zion.
[7] I will declare the decree: the LORD hath said unto me, Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee.

• set my king; my Son. In Psalms we must note the clear distinction between God (the LORD) and the Son.  The latter we propose is a new ruling, kingly and priestly sub-personality that develops, ordained by God with the express purpose of leading a spiritualization and moral reformation of the entire personality.  We might see it as a Christ principle, a keystone of a new edifice of the personality which is being constructed in the process of psychological salvation.

[8] Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession.
[9] Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.

• heathen for thine inheritance. The LORD will assist the new, king/priest sub-ego to gain authority over the personality.

• rod of iron.  This personality element has the power to control heathen subpersonalities.

• dash them in pieces. The Son is also an inner judge and, avenger.  He is able to scatter the thoughts of heathen sub-egos, rendering them ineffectual.

• This presents us with an important question.  If thoughts are (as so often is the case) scattered and confused, is this (1) a sign of oppression by frustrated heathen sub-egos, or (2) the result of punitive actions of a righteous inner judge upon rebellious inner heathens?  Could it even be both are the same thing, viewed from the perspectives of different sub-egos? Perhaps this will become more clear as we continue this exercise of interpretation.  Regardless, scattering and confusion of thoughts is eliminated when the personality is harmonized by holiness; gratitude, humility, trust, hope and the condition of giving God thanks and praise.

[10] Be wise now therefore, O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges of the earth.
[11] Serve the LORD with fear, and rejoice with trembling.
[12] Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that put their trust in him.

• Kiss the Son. The kings of the earth may be reconciled to the overall project of harmonization, integration, holiness and ascension (a topic we have not yet addressed).  Therefore the goal is not to destroy, but convert them.

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Notes

1. Philo quotes Psalms about two-dozen times, often supplying a psychological interpretation consistent with his exegesis of Genesis and Exodus.

2. A monitoring of ones thoughts for five minutes suffices to show how many mental characters, roles and orientations we regularly assume and how rapidly these change.

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References

Asrani, U. A. The psychology of mysticism. In: John White (ed.), The highest state of consciousness 2nd ed., White Crow, 2012. (Article originally appeared in Main Currents in Modern Thought, 25, 1969, 68–73.)

Blaising, Craig A.;  Hardin, Carmen S. (eds.). Psalms 1−50. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. InterVarsity Press, 2014.

Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Princeton, 1949.

Colson F. H.; Whitaker, G. H.; Marcus Ralph (eds.). The Works of Philo. 12 vols. Loeb Classical Library. Harvard University Press, 1929−1953.

Dysinger, Luke.  Evagrius Ponticus: Scholia on Psalms.  Web article. 2005.

Edinger, Edward F. The Sacred Psyche: A Psychological Approach to the Psalms. Inner City Books, 2004

Gohl, Justin M. Pseudo-Procopius of Gaza, Commentary on Proverbs 1-9 (Ἑρμηνεία εἰς τὰς Παροιμίας). 2019.

Huxley, Aldous. The Perennial Philosophy. London: Chatto & Windus, 1947.

Lamberton, Robert. Homer the Theologian: Neoplatonist Allegorical Reading and the Growth of the Epic Tradition. Berkeley: University of California, 1986.

Lester, David. A multiple self theory of the mind. Comprehensive Psychology, 2012, 1, 5.

Maslow, Abraham H. The farther reaches of human nature. New York: Arkana, 1993 (first published Viking, 1971).

McGilchrist, Iain. The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World. New Haven: Yale, 2009.

Neale, John Mason; Littledale, Richard Frederick. A Commentary on the Psalms. 2nd ed. 4 vols. London: Masters, 1869−1874.

Rowan, John. Subpersonalities: The People Inside Us. Routledge, 1990 (repr. 2013).

Russell, Donald Andrew; Konstan, David. Heraclitus: Homeric Problems. Atlanta, 2005.

Spurgeon, Charles Haddon. The Treasury of David. 7 vols. London: 1881−1885.

Uebersax, John. Psychological Allegorical Interpretation of the Bible.  Camino Real, 2012.

Uebersax, John.  The monomyth of fall and salvation. Christian Platonism (website). 2014.

Uebersax, John. The soul’s great battle of Kurukshetra. Satyagraha: Cultural Psychology (website). 2021.

Uebersax, John. Pitirim Sorokin’s personality theory. Satyagraha: Cultural Psychology (website). 2015.

Underhill, Evelyn. Mysticism. 12th ed. New York: E. P. Dutton, 1930.

Wesselschmidt, Quentin F. (ed.). Psalms 51−150. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. Intervarsity Press, 2007.

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The City-Soul Analogy in Isaiah

The Siege and Destruction of Jerusalem. Print by Louis Haghe based on David Roberts’ 1848 painting .

Isaiah 1 (KJV)

[1] The vision of Isaiah the son of Amoz, which he saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem in the days of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, kings of Judah.
[2] Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth: for the LORD hath spoken, I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me.
[4] Ah sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, a seed of evildoers, children that are corrupters: they have forsaken the LORD, they have provoked the Holy One of Israel unto anger, they are gone away backward.
[7] Your country is desolate, your cities are burned with fire: your land, strangers devour it in your presence, and it is desolate, as overthrown by strangers.
[18] Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.
[19] If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land:
[20] But if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured with the sword: for the mouth of the LORD hath spoken it.
[21] How is the faithful city become an harlot! it was full of judgment; righteousness lodged in it; but now murderers.
[25] And I will turn my hand upon thee, and purely purge away thy dross, and take away all thy tin:
[26] And I will restore thy judges as at the first, and thy counsellers as at the beginning: afterward thou shalt be called, The city of righteousness, the faithful city.

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TAKEN literally, Isaiah is condemning the faithlessness and corruption of the kingdom of Israel.  But a literal and historical interpretation has little relevance to our present lives. Rather, the timeless and vital meaning concerns the fall of the city of our soul — and our strong hope for its salvation from God.

Thus the real significance relies on the analogy between a city and our soul.  This is the same analogy Plato explored in his greatest work, the Republic, and which constitutes its core and power.  Plato makes explicit (e.g., at 2.368) — though many miss this — that his real concern is the salvation of the soul through virtue, Wisdom, and righteousness.  His references to a city constitute an elaborate and highly effective metaphoric language, by which things concerning the soul can be discussed that would otherwise be impossible.

Was Isaiah, like Plato, consciously aware of this trope?  That is, was it intentional, or only something governed by his unconscious creative imagination?  To me it seems very likely that the symbolism is conscious.

Why? For several reasons. One is that to suppose otherwise makes the common mistake of thinking we moderns are much more sophisticated than the ancients.  (Rather a strange supposition, given that we’re still reading and learning from Isaiah after 2500 years!)  Second, it would be similarly absurd to think that the ancient Jewish prophets were less psychologically and poetically sophisticated than Plato and other Greeks.

Yet another possibility is that the original version of Isaiah (or versions, as the present book appears to be a compilation drawn from several sources) was in fact written with an aim to literal social criticism and reform, but then a later, philosophically-minded author edited and revised the text to make it a powerful psychological metaphor.

Why does the question of conscious intention matter?  Because if Isaiah is intentionally and knowingly applying the city-soul analogy, then we will be more alert to particular details that apply to our own mental and moral life.  We will look for psychological correspondents of individual symbols.  The Book of Isaiah becomes a means of self-knowledge, as well as a call for personal reform and renewal.

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Myths of the Fall

Polyphemus, Babel, Satan, Deluge, Eden, Pharaoh, Tyranny, Phaeton, Icarus  

M

YTHS  of the Fall of Man ought to interest us intensely, because it’s so obvious that human beings, individually and collectively, live mainly in a markedly fallen condition.  Individually this is manifest as the various forms of negative thinking that characterize much or most of our waking consciousness: anxiety, worry, greed, anger, hated, fear, confusion, distraction, delusion, folly, envy, resentment, fantasy, daydreaming, grandiosity, obsession, etc. Examples of collective chronic psychological and social dysfunction are just as many and obvious.

Yet the academic establishment has gotten virtually nowhere trying to understand what myths of the fall are trying to tell us about what the psychological fall is, why it happens and how to prevent it.

Concerning the opposite condition – the blessed or ascended state – there are also many valuable and important myths.  Indeed, we might be easily persuaded that the natural condition of the human mind is happy, blessed, active and extremely capable.

In the Western tradition we have three parallel sources of fall myths:  Greek mythology, Plato’s dialogues and the Old Testament.  Examples:

Greek: Pandora, Ages of Man, Deucalion, Phaeton, Narcissus, Odyssey (Lotus eaters, Cyclops, Circe, Scylla & Charybdis), Icarus; Judgment of Paris; cf. Choice of Hercules.

Plato: Cave allegory, Cronos myth (Statesman), Tyrant’s progress, Atlantis; cf. Chariot myth.

Old Testament: Garden of Eden, Cain & Abel, Deluge, Tower of Babel, Sodom and Gomorrah, Pharaoh’s army

Plato’s ethics and epistemology supply a clear framework for interpreting his myths, and, by extension, related Greek myths.  Philo of Alexandria, in turn effectively applies Platonic formulae to interpret the Old Testament myths of the fall.

The Platonic interpretation of myths of the fall has a long tradition, and is arguably more relevant than modern Jungian interpretations, which downplay the ethical and religious meanings.

To be clear, my conviction is that these myths are not mere historical recollections of ancient deluges or a cultural transition from a happy primitive hunter-gatherer society.  They are humanity’s attempt to understand that most significant fact of human psychology: that we spend the bulk of our lives in a dreadful fallen state, virtually asleep, a ‘life that is not life.’   Until we solve this problem, we won’t be able to see or think clearly enough to solve our social problems.

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References

Uebersax, John.  The monomyth of fall and salvation.  Christian Platonism website. 2014.

Uebersax, John. Plato’s Myths as Psychology.  2015.
www.john-uebersax.com/plato/myths/myths.htm

 

John Davies: Adversity Makes Us Look Within

JOHN DAVIES (1569 –1626) was an English poet and government official.  His poem Nosce Teipsum (Know Thyself) — an outstanding example of Elizabethan verse — enjoyed great popularity both during and after his lifetime and deserves more attention today than it receives.  The core of the work consists of a series of arguments for the soul’s immortality largely adapted from those of Cicero’s Tusculan Disputations 1.  Here Davies begins by commenting on how adversity has the compensation of forcing us to direct our attention within. The circumstances surrounding the composition of Nosce Teipsum not without interest. Davies wrote it during a period of seclusion and remorse after being disbarred for cudgeling a former friend in response to a public insult from the latter.

Adversity

And as the man loues least at home to bee,
That hath a sluttish house haunted with sprites;
So she impatient her owne faults to see,
Turnes from her selfe and in strange things delites.

For this few know themselves: for merchants broke
View their estate with discontent and paine;
And seas are troubled, when they doe revoke
Their flowing waves into themselves againe.

And while the face of outward things we find,
Pleasing and faire, agreeable and sweet;
These things transport, and carry out the mind,
That with her selfe her selfe can never meet.

Yet if Affliction once her warres begin,
And threat the feebler Sense with sword and fire;
The Minde contracts her selfe and shrinketh in,
And to her selfe she gladly doth retire:

As Spiders toucht, seek their webs inmost part;
As bees in stormes unto their hives returne;
As bloud in danger gathers to the heart;
As men seek towns, when foes the country burn.

If ought can teach us ought, Affliction’s lookes,
(Making us looke into our selves so neere,)
Teach us to know our selves beyond all bookes,
Or all the learned Schooles that ever were.

This mistresse lately pluckt me by the eare,
And many a golden lesson hath me taught;
Hath made my Senses quicke, and Reason cleare,
Reform’d my Will and rectifide my Thought.

So doe the winds and thunders cleanse the ayre;
So working lees settle and purge the wine;
So lop’t and pruned trees doe flourish faire;
So doth the fire the drossie gold refine.

Neither Minerva nor the learned Muse,
Nor rules of Art, nor precepts of the wise;
Could in my braine those beames of skill infuse,
As but the glance of this Dame’s angry eyes.

She within lists my ranging minde hath brought,
That now beyond my selfe I list not goe;
My selfe am center of my circling thought,
Onely my selfe I studie, learne, and know.

I know my bodie’s of so fraile a kind,
As force without, feavers within can kill;
I know the heavenly nature of my minde,
But ’tis corrupted both in wit and will:

I know my Soule hath power to know all things,
Yet is she blinde and ignorant in all;
I know I am one of Nature’s little kings,
Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.

I know my life’s a paine and but a span,
I know my Sense is mockt with every thing:
And to conclude, I know my selfe a MAN,
Which is a proud, and yet a wretched thing.

Bibliography

Davies, John.  Nosce Teipsum (extract). In: Alexander B. Grosart, (ed.), The Complete Poems of Sir John Davies, 2 vols, Vol. 2, Chatto and Windus, 1876; 22−24.
https://archive.org/details/completepoemsofs01daviuoft