The Sermon on the Mount has been characterized in many different
ways: It is the proclamation of the Kingdom of Heaven; an exposition
of Christian morality; the goal of human living; a means of communion
with God. Each reader sees it through his own eyes and praises
or condemns it from his point of view. Seen through the eyes of
an occult scientist, all these statements are unsatisfactory.
To him the Sermon on the Mount is the chart of initiation as taught
by a great Being. This Being dared to divulge the secrets of the
Kingdom, knowing that they would be misunderstood and misused
by countless followers and yet rediscovered time and again when
circumstances would permit.
St. Matthew gave us an unsurpassed sequence of instructions for
spiritual expeditions into the unknown. He arranged them in such
a way that we can use them for our education. If we dare to do
so, they lead us into the fathomless depths of religious experience.
The Sermon on the Mount can be understood as a treatise on spiritual
diet; it teaches us that spiritual evolution means acceptance
and assimilation of experiences-joyful and painful alike. The
Lord's Prayer is the center of the whole Sermon.
The first section of the Sermon provides nothing less than the
Magna Carta of the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth. It does not refer,
however, to the Kingdom of Heaven as a realm beyond space and
time. If we suppose that the promise of "rewards" in
the Beatitudes can be fulfilled only after death, we deprive the
Sermon of its actuality and efficacy. If we understand it as a
statement about actual events in the spiritual realm here on Earth,
taking place within us and within our fellow men, it will prove
not only to be true, but also to be charged with power almost
to the extent of being dangerous
For instance, Christ Jesus said, "Who is my mother, and who
are my brothers?" (Matt. 12:48) He told His disciples: "If
any man come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife,
and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life
also, he cannot be my disciple" — Luke 14:26. In psychological
terms, this means that the individual emerges from the tribe;
his personal consciousness begins to differ from the conventional
consciousness of his relatives and friends. Not only do the content
of his consciousness and the objects of his interest change, but
his judgments, his point of view, the dynamics of his personality
also are metamorphosed. The regime of Jehovah and the dominating
influences of the Race Spirit begin to crumble as the Love-Wisdom
Principle asserts itself in the hearts and minds of men. The human
character comes of age. As a result of all this he is alone. To
the orthodox, he is an outlaw, a dangerous innovator, madman,
or criminal. How does he know and how do we know whether he is
insane, a criminal, or a reformer?
Psychology provides the terms which link our experiences closely
with the development of the early Christians. Our time, like the
first century, is characterized by the decay of national structure
on an international scale. The individual must stick to old conventional
values which are obsolete, or he must set out on his own to find
entrance into the realm of the future. The new outer structure
is developing within the character of the average individual.
We are witnessing a psychological and spiritual mutation; the
old species, homo feudalis (feudalistic man), is changing into
the new species, homo communis (common man). The danger inherent
in the process whereby man individualizes is egocentricity or,
as Max Heindel stated: "Pride of intellect, intolerance,
and impatience of restraint."
The development of individualism cannot be prevented. We cannot
go back to the feudalism of tribal life. What is the way out?
In religious terms, how can we act unselfishly and get rid of
sin? How can we reach forgiveness and enter the Kingdom of Heaven?
True Christianity presents a form of individualism, of self-reliance
and independence, which allows the individual to become responsible
for himself and for the group also. Individual freedom and collective
responsibility coincide. The psychological process of this development
is characterized by the terms individuation and integration. Its
religious goal is stated in St. Paul's description of the mystical
body of Christ.
Our question now is: how can we avoid egocentricity and reach
individuation? Or, since we are egocentric already, how can we
get rid of egocentricity and replace it with individuation? As
aids, St. Matthew presents us with some of the most inspiring
words in the Bible, the Beatitudes. The Beatitudes, the proclamation
of the Kingdom of Heaven, convey an inner experience, a new discovery,
which overthrows our natural philosophy of life. A key for inner
development and the achievement of conscious growth is proclaimed
in appalling, though simple, terms: nonsensical oratory to those
who are not ready for it; clarifying insight and unquestionable
truth to those who have passed the test of evolution; help, comfort,
and remedy to those who struggle in the midst of painful transition.
The proclamation of the Kingdom consists of a series of paradoxes,
built in pairs around the center. The fourth Beatitude, "Blessed
are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness," means
in modern language "hunger for spiritual evolution."
To be discontented with our spiritual situation, to crave something
better with all the recklessness of people who are starving-that
is the inner situation of those who are blessed.
Nobody has this blessing as a birthright. We have to deserve it
by our own endeavor. There is, of course, the danger that good
news may be misunderstood and the new inheritance misused. The
hardships of the journey are a safeguard, but not a sufficient
one. Matthew, therefore, indicates two additional qualifications:
only the meek and merciful are accepted.
Who inherits the Earth? The meek and the merciful. That the meek
shall inherit the Earth has always been considered a paradox of
almost sarcastic poignancy, particularly when the word meek was
misunderstood to mean soft, weak, and helpless. Moffatt translates
it as humble, Goodspeed as humble-minded. Gerald Heard contends
it means tamed, or, more exactly, disciplined by spiritual practice,
as were the Essenes. We might come closer to the truth if we construe
meek as sensitive, open-minded, or, in more psychological language,
without inhibitions and repressions and especially without blind
spots, callousness, or dullness. We then understand that "the
meek" are able to hear the inner voice, to distinguish between
the creative voice of eternity and the destructive voice of egocentricity.
The fifth Beatitude accords blessing to the merciful. The Greek
word for mercy corresponds to the Aramaic hisda, which means a
mature state of mind characterized by understanding, sympathy,
and justice. The merciful person therefore might be described
as one who is completely individuated, so that he acts out of
his own resourcefulness but at the same time is so sensitive to
the sufferings of his fellow men that he feels them as if they
were his own. The merciful are those who are mature of heart.
The two Beatitudes about the meek and the merciful form a pair
of opposites surrounding the central Beatitude, which concerns
the hunger for righteousness. The meek will receive the whole
Earth, while the merciful will give away all they have. Surely
we are reminded of the occult precept: the more we give away,
the more we shall receive. If we are sensitive to other people's
sufferings, we are sensitive also to the guiding intimations from
beyond. Sharing our small resources with our fellow men, we are
allowed to share the mercy and the creative love of the Eternal.
The two opposites are two different aspects of the same evolutionary
process.
The next pair of Beatitudes again form a unit contradicting and
completing each other. If we learn to mourn in the right way,
our mourning will turn into an experience of inner growth and
the discovery of a new world with new values and new goals. It
has been said that this "congratulations for bereavement"
is the most paradoxical of all the beatitudes. Yet, to lose a
dear friend by death always means the possibility of a new contact
with the beyond and of a new turning away from the past towards
the future. Such a spiritual evolution, however, takes place only
if we accept, simply and honestly, without bitterness and without
self-pity, the suffering which is involved, and if we search with
patience and an open mind for its deeper meaning. Then desolation
will be replaced by consolation, and the suffering will change
into a hunger for spiritual growth.
The corresponding Beatitude, therefore, concerns the "pure
in heart," or, as we might prefer to call them, the "pure
in mind." To "see God," to understand His dealings
with men and His purposes in history, presupposes the same lack
of inhibition and absence of blind spots which characterize the
meek and the merciful — in other words, a lack of egocentricity.
The non-egocentric heart is courageous and honest; it is full
of love and creativeness, and that means it is pure.
We discover purity of heart to have a new dynamic quality: it
either grows or decreases, and it grows by experience. At least
half of our experiences are negative, dealing with "evil"
within ourselves or within other people. We shall have to mourn.
Our problem therefore is: How can we suffer without decreasing
our purity, without becoming egocentric, negative, or bitter?
How can we increase our purity in spite of the suffering which
is an unavoidable factor in evolution? The answer: By trying to
see God, to discern the divine purpose within and behind our difficulties.
This should enable us to discover deeper reasons for our suffering
and to change our points of view. Seeing God is more than sensing
some contact with eternity. It presupposes a humble acceptance
of the "evil" in life and a forgiving of those who wrong
us. This Beatitude describes the wisdom and maturity of those
who have become accepted as "children of God."
The Poor in Spirit
as Peacemakers
The first and last Beatitudes complete the description of the
dynamic process which may be called the way to Christianity, in
the individual as well as in mankind. The poor in spirit will
enter the Kingdom of Heaven, and the children of God will be the
peacemakers on Earth. The poor in spirit will find the Kingdom,
not after death but here and now, otherwise they could not become
peacemakers on Earth. To be a peacemaker is a final condition
without which the condition of being a recognized "Son of
God" cannot be attained.
One cannot make a good peace by compromising. One has to "create"
it as a new and higher form of human relationship, or else one
will become an appeaser. The word creativity, with respect to
humans, is absent in Greek, Aramaic, and Hebrew. All ancient languages
are tribal, and therefore dumb with regard to individualism. God
alone is the Creator. The fact that a man should be individually
creative can be expressed only by the almost sacrilegious statement
that he shall become a Son of God, a divine creative creature.
This new dignity harbors a terrible temptation. Christ Jesus was
able to conquer the danger, but how can we be individuated, endowed
with creativity, without falling into the temptation of egocentric
willfulness?
How can we be peacemakers instead of warmongers? Answer: by remaining
poor in spirit. In Greek, the phrase literally means beggars regarding
the spirit. Begging for spirit presupposes the knowledge that
there is Spirit. All the intellectual forces that we can muster,
all the energy of volition, and all the strength and subtleties
of the human heart are required as tools of the Spirit.
Blessed are You When Men Revile You and Persecute You
The proclamation of the Kingdom of Heaven is a paradox. It conveys
an inner experience, a new discovery, which controverts our common
experience. At first this paradox is stated with philosophical
aloofness: "Blessed are those..." We are asked to consider
it as a general law of spiritual development. Then the text turns
with sudden violence, like a pointed dagger, against the reader
himself: "Blessed are you..." There is no escape; we
have to answer. Is it a blessing to be reviled and persecuted?
Do we feel it? Do we actually rejoice? Do we experience the reward
in heaven? The "reward in heaven" must be realized immediately;
loss must be felt as gain here and now, not after death. The Kingdom
must be an experience of growth and evolution before we die; it
may continue after death, but it must begin on Earth.
Matthew adds, "for righteousness sake and for my sake."
Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness are usually at odds
with their contemporaries, as were the Old Testament Prophets.
There is not a blessing in every persecution; but where spiritual
progress arouses the fear and fury of reactionaries and revolutionaries,
there the suffering which the opposing forces inflict helps to
speed the inner growth of the sufferer.
The text does not say that the people who persecute the followers
of Christ Jesus are bad or selfish or malicious. They are simply
people-neighbors, friends, relatives: everybody. They are like
us. We are persecutors insofar as we do not participate in the
evolution of mankind. We may be outstanding members of progressive
or revolutionary organizations. We may say: "our economic
system should change," "the millennium of the classless
society should come tomorrow." The expansion of our consciousness,
however, is something different. Conscious growth — the evolution
of the human character — is a painful and exclusively personal task.
It implies the acceptance and assimilation of our unconscious
fears and faults, the removal of our inhibitions and prejudices,
the reformation and integration of our passions and compulsions.
The new rules are voluntary. They cannot be enforced. The form,
as Christ Jesus explains, is a system of practical experiments
leading those who dare to face the tests into a new kind of religious
"perfection." It is as if the disciples had asked Him:
"How can we achieve meekness and purity of heart and all
the other qualities of the Beatitudes?" Let us propose to
give some answers. There are five different fields that we can
till, as revealed in the Sermon on the Mount. These are the five
steps that lead to individuation:
Step 1 —
Cope With
Your Resentments
If you are offering your gift at the alter, and there remember
that your brother has something against you, leave your gift before
the altar and go be reconciled to your brother; then come and
offer your gift. The tribal law, "Thou shalt not kill,"
was limited to members of the same tribe; outside the tribe it
was honorable to kill as many Gentiles as possible. The law forbade
crimes only between relatives. Christ Jesus knew that overt crimes
are but the flowers and fruit of hidden roots, and that we cannot
truly love our brothers and sisters unless we unearth those forgotten
and repressed roots of evil. Such an unconscious hatred poisons
the human mind like unknown germs; it might lead to bitterness,
pessimism, and despair.
What can we do against this deadly evil if we do not know it?
Certain symptoms can be diagnosed early enough. Undue anger is
the first. Our brother makes an insignificant mistake and we explode
as if he had wounded us to the quick. Then there is the exaggerated
criticism, or a blunder, a slip of the tongue, instantly followed
by the assertion that we did not mean it and are sorry. All this
shows that the cancer of negativity in us is growing. We must
release and change the repressed forces or they will kill us.
All our religious efforts, therefore, are futile until we clean
our psychic houses.
Step 2 —
Sex Versus Love
"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery.'
But I say unto you that everyone who looks at a woman lustfully
has already committed adultery with her in his heart." The
central purpose of our religious self-education is to individualize
without using our freedom egocentrically. Thus, we must learn
to control our natural impulses, especially the sex drive, or
they surely will control us.
The exact interpretation of Christ Jesus' statement is of extreme
importance because the vulgar misunderstanding may produce, and
indeed has produced, infinite misery. The question is: how can
sexuality be honored and employed for the sake of new creation
without selfish use and distortion? Matthew tells us, in the 19th
chapter of his Gospel, to wait! We should not repress lust: we
should admit it, accept it, and force it to wait until it turns
into love.
The simile of the eye plucked out and of the hand cut off seems
at first glance to describe complete mortification, and that is
what thousands of ascetics have read into the text. As a matter
of fact, the sex drive cannot be annihilated. It will remain alive,
however deeply we repress it. It will return as a specter, haunt
us as nightmares, or explode our virtuous facade by the most foolish
of escapades. If our egocentricity melts away, individuation teaches
us real love, and we experience its creative power. Our first
task was to look without lust: now it is to look without hatred
or indifference. If we cannot learn to love, at least we can learn
to be fair and kind and unselfish, and that too means evolution.
Step 3 —
God is Not
Your Weapon
"But I say to you, do not swear at all, either by heaven,
for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool,
or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King." The
prohibition against swearing at all can be transcribed: Do not
completely identify yourself with any plan, work, or value which
you want to pursue. Be determined, yet remain flexible and adaptable.
Be persevering, but not stubborn. Do not give up because men want
you to, but resign gladly if you see that creation itself is going
the other way.
Christ Jesus wanted the individual to emerge from life. The reborn
individual finds himself in possession of creative powers and
new possibilities which constitute a temptation of unexpected severity.
He is free to create and to destroy. He feels as if he were God.
But if he misses the right road, individuation is replaced by
egocentricity, and man tries to match himself against God as his
equal. The temptation is not new. But in tribal life, the law
breaker is an outcast and will perish. In the new era of creation,
the danger of confusing egocentric stubbornness with creative
individuation is so great that the whole purpose of evolution
may be thwarted by it. Max Heindel attested to this by calling
the race lives and bodies we inherit "paths to destruction."
The decisive achievement which Christ Jesus wants His disciples
to attain is a new kind of responsibility equal to the new creative
power which will be given to them. They are the salt and the light
of the Earth, but only if they remain poor in spirit. They may
participate in the divine life beyond space, time, and racial
identification, but if they issue rigid orders for the future,
they are lost souls.
Step 4 —
Meet Violence
With Nonresistance
"But I say to you, Do not resist one who is evil. But if
any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other
also." Christ Jesus was not thinking of the new civil code
without police, where bullies are allowed to exploit their victims.
He speaks here of something else. He is teaching self-education.
If our dignity is rooted in our creative relationship with God,
a slap in the face cannot harm us. Christ Jesus' disposition when
He was struck was bold and calm and of unshakable peacefulness.
If we are aware of our power, feeling the contact with our Father
in heaven, we are not inclined to resist evil — to fight back; we
only want to serve Creation.
The principle of nonresistance must not lead to the repression
of our natural urge for retaliation. The repression of the "instinct"
for self-preservation would be as disastrous as the repression
of our sexuality. The problem is not how to get rid of our natural
instincts but how to discipline them for the sake of inner growth.
The way, as far as we can see, is this: Evil comes from outside.
The evildoer attacks us. This arouses our "evil" responses-fear,
hatred, bitterness, vengefulness-and therefore we resist, fight
back, and the sum of evil increases. If we relax, letting the
attack sweep through our bodies and minds, the suffering wakes
us up more completely, removes our blind spots, and enables us
to see the deep meaning of our fate.
Step 5 —
Hate Yields to Love
"But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who
persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in
heaven; for He makes His Sun to rise on the evil and on the good,
and sends rain on the just and on the unjust." This fifth
and last of our tests follows after we have discovered in the
fourth test that evildoers cannot inflict evil upon us if we do
not resist evil. They can make us suffer, but this does not increase
our inner darkness; all pain becomes growing pain, and we recognize
the power which makes us grow.
Praying for those who persecute us means, among other things,
the attempt to look at our situation from above, from the standpoint
of the guiding Power of Life. Why did this Power allow our enemy
to become so strong? What can he do to us? Could this be happening
for our own benefit? Is it for the removal of our blind spot,
to make us see more clearly, less emotionally?
Let us pray for the outer enemy as the text says, looking at him
as much as we can with the eyes of the Creator, with fatherly
love. He might appear as an evildoer, but we would give him a
chance. Maybe we could rescue him, if we were to become peacemakers
in the fullest sense of the word. However, in order to become
peacemakers, we must do away with our fear, hatred, horror, bitterness-indeed,
with the whole store of negative and destructive energies which
the enemy conjured up from the hidden depths of our minds and
which we never would have discovered without him. He has shown
us what has prevented our becoming true sons of God.
The outer enemy forces us to face our inner enemies. Our inner
spirit of darkness and despair is more important and more powerful
than the outer enemy. Now we pray for the inner foe. How can we
rescue him, redeem him, turning his darkness into the light of
creation? Here is the conscious personality-incomplete, insecure,
frightened; and there is the inner foe-the symbol of darkness,
the fiend, the frightening and irresistible. How can the two come
together? Can we love our hatred and our own anxiety? If we look
from above, objectively, we discover that our hatred once was
love, in early childhood, and our anxiety then was caused by frustration
of our unprotected and unlimited eagerness of life.
We discover the virtue behind our vices, and we understand that
darkness may be changed into light again, if only we can face
it, accept it, sustain its horror, and believe in the light beyond.
Jacob wrestled with the demon until it turned out to be the Angel
of the Lord. Christ Jesus faced utmost darkness in Gethsemane,
and by so doing entered a new phase of creation. What is our task
when the unconscious opens its gates and anxiety floods our conscious
mind? Let us do what all the pioneers of the inner life have done:
in the battle between opposites, let us appeal to the creative
center which can reconcile them on a higher level of reality.
"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil; for thou art with me." Why should we
be less courageous than the Psalmist?
These five steps or stages of growth prepare us for the climax
of the Sermon on the Mount, the Lord's Prayer. Max Heindel states
that this prayer may be considered an algebraic formula for the
upliftment and purification of all the vehicles of man — truly a
fitting capstone for the Sermon on the Mount.
— A Probationer
— Rays from the Rose Cross Magazine, March/April, 1996
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