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The Gospel of Matthew Chapter 6, Verses 19-23 reads

19 Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:

20 But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:

21 For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

22 The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.

23 But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!

24 No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

25 Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?

26 Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

27 Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?

28 And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

29 And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

30 Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

31 Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

32 (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.

33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.

34 Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

Permanent Things

Jesus opens this passage by telling us to "lay up our treasures in Heaven." As we often discuss here, Heaven isn't another place, and we don't go there when we die. Heaven is a condition of being, and our goal is to attain that condition here and now, while we sojourn on the Earth.

We are reminded here, that the things of the Earth are impermanent. Here moth and rust corrupt, thieves break and steal. Heaven is permanent, because Heaven is Eternal-- and this is a critical point. To the modern mind, "Eternity" means "for a very very very long time." In fact, that is not what it means at all. Eternity is not a long time, or the longest time; it isn't even forever. Eternity is outside of time.

As Plotinus writes,

That which neither has been nor will be, but simply possesses ever-being; that which enjoys stable existence as neither in process of change nor having changed -- that is Eternity...

Eternity, thus, is of the order of the supremely great; reason proclaims it to be one with God, God made manifest, God declaring what He is; a Life limitless in the sense of being all the life there is, a Life which possesses itself intact forever, a Life instantaneously infinite.

Can we fully achieve Eternity in Time, Heaven on Earth? No, not quite-- otherwise there would be no Earth, only Heaven. But we can live our live our lives in such a way that we carry Heaven with us. When we do this, we will find death to be as simple as putting off a garment.

But how?

Take No Thought of the Morrow

In Platonic thought, Time is only a moving image of eternity. All the forms of physical things in this world are themselves only the shadows and traces of higher things, the eternal ideas which shape the living world.

Since everything eternal has its reflection in time, so eternity itself has its reflection in time. What is this reflection?

Well, we only have three options, since time consists only of three parts. These are, of course, the Past, the Present, and the Future.

Now, remember that Eternity is not the same as forever, or for a very long time. Since Time extends into the Past either forever, or for a very long time; and into the Future either forever for a very long time, neither Past nor Future can have anything to do with Eternity.

But the Present-- What is its duration? In a real sense, it has none. No matter how much you subdivide the moment, you never come to a length of time which is small enough to be the present-- by the very fact of having length, it isn't the present. In this way, the Present is the image of Eternity within Time-- Like Eternity, it has no duration, and no interval.

Plotinus again:

We must, then, have ourselves some share in Eternity, since there can be no understanding without some point of contact, and what contact could there be with the utterly alien?

That point of contact is the present moment itself; this is what Jesus is teaching us in these verses.

Becoming Present

Plotinus asks,

What if one should never laps from this vision [of eternity], held by the spell of its grandeur, capable of it because of a nature itself unfailing, or, if, pressing towards Eternity, one were then to rest in it, assimilated to it, co-eternal with it, contemplating Eternity and the Eternal by what is eternal in the self?

Let's remind ourselves of a few things.

Jesus has taught us that we must change our nous. He has taught us that the Heaven is within us. He has taught us that by purity of heart, we will see God.

Here, he teaches us that we must focus on Eternity, not Time, using the metaphor of "laying up treasure." He tells us that if we do so, our hearts will be open to Heaven-- "where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." And he tells us to give no thought to tomorrow-- which implies that we should also give no thought to yesterday, either.

This tells me that we must make a spiritual practice of presence. And that means meditation.

Meditation

Many readers here are probably familiar with the practice of discursive meditation, which is the form of meditation taught by John Michael Greer. Rather than stilling the mind, as Eastern systems of quiescent meditation systems do, discursive meditation consists of actively focusing and using the mind, usually through the contemplation of a spiritual text.

Discursive meditation is a wonderful practice and I strongly recommend it. I practice it myself; most mornings I begin my day by sitting down with The Complete Works of Plato, reading 5-10 pages, and then meditating on what I've read. If you're a Christian, you can practice discursive meditation using the Gospels or other part of the Bible or a spiritual text like The Imitation of Christ or True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. I have several books on my shelf of meditations meant specifically for clergy that I plundered from a defunct Catholic seminary. If you've never tried it, I strongly encourage it; you will find both the texts and your relationship with the subject of those texts coming alive as never before.

In my view, though, and it's a view derived from my experience, discursive meditation is not enough. Mr. Greer tends to deride Eastern forms of quiescent meditation, particularly the forms of "mindfulness meditation" that have become popular in recent years, as mere "mindlessness meditation." I strongly disagree. I believe that active meditation and passive meditation-- or meditation and contemplation, to give them their older and more proper names-- are like two wheels of a cart. Both are necessary. My experience is that if I practice only discursive meditation, I come up with extraordinary insights, but at other times of the day I'm unable to stop my mind from brooding over past mistakes or injuries or worrying about the future. My experience of people who only practice quiescent meditation, on the other hand, is that they often appear unable to think at all-- and so find themselves at the mercy of whatever thought forms and mental currents are passing through the popular culture.

In the modern world, with most of our traditions in disarray, we often have to cobble a spiritual practice together out of pieces drawn from different sources. Zazen, transcendental meditation, or Taoist zuowang are forms of quiescent meditation that pair well with discursive meditation. It's worth noting, though, that the Western tradition has its own form of quiescent meditation. The traditional meditation practice called lectio divina, or "divine reading," has 4 stages:

1. Lectio, or reading, in which a passage of scripture or a spiritual text is read;
2. Meditatio, or meditation, in which the passage is turned over in the mind;
3. Oratio, or prayer, in which the meditator turns to God for additional insight; and finally
4. Contemplatio, or contemplation, in which thought is released and the meditator rests in the stillness and presence that is the active presence of God.

In this way of doing things, active meditation and passive meditation both have a part to play-- and notice that it is God that acts as the bridge between the two.

Our problem is that our minds are out of control. It's as if we're born with a severe case of restless leg syndrome. No matter what we do, our legs are constantly spasming, flipping and flopping us all over the place. Discursive meditation teaches us how to get our legs under control, so that we can go somewhere. Quiescent meditation-- or contemplation, to give it its proper name-- teaches us how to still our legs, so that we can rest.

Consider the Lilies

Most of what I've written here so far is within the bounds of Christian orthodoxy, supplemented by Plotinus and Plato. Now I want to step outside that orthodoxy, just a bit.

Occult Philosophy holds that the essence of every human soul is a kind of kernel of existence called the divine spark. This is the basic seed of existence around which our expanded capacities for action and mental representation are built. In theory, the sparks are eternal, and they begin their existence at the level of spiritual reality, in the presence of the Divine. That sounds great, doesn't it? And it is. The trouble is that it's a sort of trance-state; the sparks exist in the presence of God, but they live as if they were in a dream, unable to experience reality as an objective structure extending beyond themselves.

In order to become the sorts of beings that can not just experience but will and choose and understand, they need more. They go forth from the divine, and descent down the planes of existence, through the noetic level, the astral and etheric levels, until they finally descend to the level of physical reality....

And become a rock.

Yes, according to this way of looking at things, you were once a rock. A rock has physical existence, but nothing else. But because of its origin in the Spiritual Plane, it has the potential to become something else.

Ever so slowly, over long ages, the being that was once a rock takes on more complex capacities. It exists for a time as a crystal-- a rock, that is, in which the elementary form of growth has begun to evolve.

And after a time-- how long, who knows?-- the crystal is destroyed, and the spark within it is released. The spark can now take on a more complex form. It becomes a simple plant: A being in which the capacity to eat and grow is added to the capacity for physical existence. Over time, the plant too evolves more complex capacitis. It becomes a tree-- a kind of plant in which the rudiments of conscious experience are awakening.

And then the tree is cut down, and the spark is born again as an animal. Now the spark begins to gain the capacities of more complex mental representation, and above all, movement.

But there is a price: When existing as a plant, the divine spark was able to live off of sunlight and nutrients drawn from the soil. Now, it must eat other forms of life. It must kill in order to exist. Before, it only suffered evil. Now it commits evil.

On and on, through the long ages of animal existence, the soul is forced to do appalling, unimaginable things. As a hawk it tears babies out of their mother's arms and devours them. As a lion it destroys entire families. As a mouse, it eats its own young.

And so, ever so slowly, the soul gains the knowledge of good and evil. It gains this through experience-- it suffers both evil and good, and it does both evil and good.

Now, all this must sound familiar at this point. The state of original, blissful but trance-like presence of God is the Garden of Eden. The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is material existence. When Adam and Eve eat of the Tree, they descend into matter. Then they hear God coming, and they are ashamed, because they are naked. Their nudity isn't physical nudity; it's existence as naked souls. And so they weave clothes for themselves: That is to say, they clothe themselves in matter, taking on material existence for the first time.

The soul at the animal level has suffered evil and good, and has done evil and good. It still lacks one thing, which it can only gain at the human level of existence. And that is the capacity not merely to act, but to choose its actions.

The work of the human soul is to become capable of commiting acts of both good and evil, from a place of knowledge and deliberate action, not mere reaction.

What? We should learn to be evil? That sounds terrible, doesn't it?

But consider: When a wolf eats a deer, it is evil for the deer-- but it's good for the wolf. But it's also good for the plants, because if the deer population grows to excess, the local plantlife will be destroyed. And the next thing that will happen after that is that the deer will starve to death. And so when a wolf eats a deer, it's evil for the deer, but it's good for the wolf, the plants, and, ultimately-- for the deer as a whole.

The wolf does this unknowingly. In the human, the capacity for knowledge has awakened-- but it is not complete. The complete knowledge of good and evil is held by the beings that create and sustain the system of life that contains the wolf, the deer, and the plants-- that is to say, the gods. The work of the human level is the work of awakening to both the knowledge and the use of good and evil in the governance of the universe. That is what is meant by becoming divine.

This is also why Plato writes that humans who do evil are reborn as the animals they resemble. Such people have not sufficiently integrated the lessons of the animal level of existence, and so, like bad students sent back a grade, they need to go back and try again.

And those who have chosen the portion of injustice, and tyranny, and violence, will pass into wolves, or into hawks and kites;—whither else can we suppose them to go?

When Jesus calls to mind the lilies, and the birds, he is reminding us of our stages of existence as animals and plants. Like the lilies, like teh birds, we should let go of our concern for the future and focus on the present only. In the present moment we find the image of eternity which is the image of God and the presence of God within ourselves. And so we can turn ourselves, our wills and our actions entirely over to God, the Eternal Reality within us.

This work of contemplation-- stilling the mind, focusing only on the present moment, and resting in stillness and divine presence-- creates in us the capacity to choose.

Isn't that a contradiction? We're enjoined on the one hand to trust ourselves entirely to the care of God, and on the other hand to develop in ourselves the capacity to choose our actions, and even become gods!

This is not a contradiction at all, and, indeed, the two things are consequences of each other. How this is so should be clear, if you've been following up to this point.

The Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 6, Verses 16-18 reads

16 Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.

17 But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face;

18 That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret: and thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.

Epithymia

Why fast?

Remember the three components of the soul, according to the Platonists: Nous, Thymos, and Epithymia. Nous is the mind, but especially that part of the mind which extends beyond thought, becoming a window into the Eternal World. Thymos is the spirited part, the will or energy. And Epithymia is the appetite.

Now, when we start on the path, each part of the soul must be brought into balance-- and as they have different functions, there is a discipline and a balance proper to each.

When the appetite is unrestrained, it leads the soul to disaster, and is the root of our entanglement with matter-- and that which is worse than matter. As Plato writes in the Phaedo, his account of the execution of Socrates:

Every pleasure or pain has a sort of rivet with which it fastens the soul to the body and pins it down and makes it corporeal, accepting as true whatever the body certifies. The result of agreeing with the body and finding pleasure in the same things is, I imagine, that it cannot help becoming like it in character and training, so that it can never get entirely away to the unseen world, but is always saturated with the body when it sets out, and so soon falls back again into another body, where it takes root and grows. Consequently it is excluded from all fellowship with the pure and uniform and divine.

Now, Jesus has already told us the proper function of the epithymia, way back in the Beatitudes:

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.

Our appetite has an ultimate purpose, which is to lead us heavenward. It isn't that we should totally eschew the things of the material world-- we're here, after all, and to never to obey out appetite would be to commit suicide. But we must discipline our appetites.

And that's where fasting comes in.

Traditional Fasts

Traditionally, Catholics fasted Wednesdays and Fridays, and during select days and seasons throughout the year. These days, the Modern Church in its wisdom has abandoned the traditional fasts and today enjoins its members only to give up a random goody during Lent and to fast for real during one day of the year, Good Friday. Eastern Churches, who possess actual wisdom, have preserved the older custom; they continue to fast through all of Lent and Advent, and during Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays all year round. Tellingly, the Eastern churches preserved their traditions and have managed to undergo a rebirth despite suffering almost unimaginably brutal repression under the Communist regimes of Russia and Eastern Europe, while membership in the Roman Catholic Church, as well as participation in the masses and belief in its doctrines by its nominal members, has plummeted during the same period.

Let's leave that aside for now, though-- though it's relevant to our discussion. I want to say a bit more about the traditional fasts.

Before the wisdom of the '60s put an end to it, there were four three-day fasts set at each of the cardinal points of the year. These were called the Ember Days, and there was one for each season. It's very interesting to note some of the traditional justifications for these fasts. The Golden Legend, compiled by Blessed Jacopo de Voragine in the 13th Century, tells us:

The fourth reason is because the man is composed of four elements touching the body, and of three virtues or powers in his soul: that is to wit, the understanding, the will, and the mind. To this then that this fasting may attemper in us four times in the year, at each time we fast three days, to the end that the number of four may be reported to the body, and the number of three to the soul. These be the reasons of Master Beleth.

The fifth reason, as saith John Damascenus: in March and in printemps [that is, Spring] the blood groweth and augmenteth, and in summer coler, in September melancholy, and in winter phlegm. Then we fast in March for to attemper and depress the blood of concupiscence disordinate, for sanguine of his nature is full of fleshly concupiscence. In summer we fast because that coler should be lessened and refrained, of which cometh wrath. And then is he full naturally of ire. In harvest we fast for to refrain melancholy. The melancholious man naturally is cold, covetous and heavy. In winter we fast for to daunt and to make feeble the phlegm of lightness and forgetting, for such is he that is phlegmatic.

The sixth reason is for the printeps is likened to the air, the summer to fire, harvest to the earth, and the winter to water. Then we fast in March to the end that the air of pride be attempered to us. In summer the fire of concupiscence and of avarice. In September the earth of coldness and of the darkness of ignorance. In winter the water of lightness and inconstancy.

Lent was also kept as a fast, and in theory is to this day, though not in practice. Advent, the period of 4 Sundays before Christmas, was also kept as a very strict fast, though today, of course, it's an extended shopping season. The important thing to note, here, is that each fast ends with a feast. In earlier times, the 3-4 weeks of Advent ended in a very strict all-day fast on Christmas Eve. This was finally broken with a special meal at midnight, after which a 12-day party ensued, ending only on January 6th with the Feast of the Epiphany. And here's the point: It's hard, if not impossible, to imagine modern Americans fasting for 4 straight weeks.

But it's even harder to imagine them partying for 12 straight days.

And, indeed, it's the fast that allows for the feast, and the feast that allows for the fast. In magical terms, this is a very traditional principle. It is discussed in the late 19th century magical work called the Kybalion under the names "The Principle of Polarity" and the Principle of Rhythm":

4. The Principle of Polarity

"Everything is Dual; everything has poles; everything has its pair of opposites; like and unlike are the same; opposites are identical in nature, but different in degree; extremes meet; all truths are but half-truths; all paradoxes may be reconciled."—The Kybalion.

This Principle embodies the truth that "everything is dual"; "everything has two poles"; "everything has its pair of opposites," all of which were old Hermetic axioms. It explains the old paradoxes, that have perplexed so many, which have been stated as follows: "Thesis and antithesis are identical in nature, but different in degree"; "opposites are the same, differing only in degree"; "the pairs of opposites may be reconciled"; "extremes meet"; "everything is and isn't, at the same time"; "all truths are but half-truths"; "every truth is half-false"; "there are two sides to everything," etc., etc., etc. It explains that in everything there are two poles, or opposite aspects, and that "opposites" are really only the two extremes of the same thing, with many varying degrees between them.

5. The Principle of Rhythm

"Everything flows, out and in; everything has its tides; all things rise and fall; the pendulum-swing manifests in everything; the measure of the swing to the right is the measure of the swing to the left; rhythm compensates."—The Kybalion.

This Principle embodies the truth that in everything there is manifested a measured motion, to and fro; a flow and inflow; a swing backward and forward; a pendulum-like movement; a tide-like ebb and flow; a high-tide and low-tide; between the two poles which exist in accordance with the Principle of Polarity described a moment ago. There is always an action and a reaction; an advance and a retreat; a rising and a sinking. This is in the affairs of the Universe, suns, worlds, men, animals, mind, energy, and matter. This law is manifest in the creation and destruction of worlds; in the rise and fall of nations; in the life of all things; and finally in the mental states of Man (and it is with this latter that the Hermetists find the understanding of the Principle most important).

It is the fast which creates the feast, and the feast creates the fast. Lacking one, we can have neither.

It is for this reason that Plato has Socrates say in the Phaedo that he expects to awaken to another life after his death.

Are not all things which have opposites generated out of their opposites? I mean such things as good and evil, just and unjust—and there are innumerable other opposites which are generated out of opposites. And I want to show that in all opposites there is of necessity a similar alternation; I mean to say, for example, that anything which becomes greater must become greater after being less.

True.

And that which becomes less must have been once greater and then have become less.

Yes.

And the weaker is generated from the stronger, and the swifter from the slower.

Very true.

And the worse is from the better, and the more just is from the more unjust.

Of course.

And is this true of all opposites? and are we convinced that all of them are generated out of opposites?

Yes.

And in this universal opposition of all things, are there not also two intermediate processes which are ever going on, from one to the other opposite, and back again; where there is a greater and a less there is also an intermediate process of increase and diminution, and that which grows is said to wax, and that which decays to wane?

...

Now, said Socrates, I will analyze one of the two pairs of opposites which I have mentioned to you, and also its intermediate processes, and you shall analyze the other to me. One of them I term sleep, the other waking. The state of sleep is opposed to the state of waking, and out of sleeping waking is generated, and out of waking, sleeping; and the process of generation is in the one case falling asleep, and in the other waking up. Do you agree?

I entirely agree.

Then, suppose that you analyze life and death to me in the same manner. Is not death opposed to life?

Yes.

And they are generated one from the other?

Yes.

What is generated from the living?

The dead.

And what from the dead?

I can only say in answer—the living.

Then the living, whether things or persons, Cebes, are generated from the dead?

That is clear, he replied.

Then the inference is that our souls exist in the world below?

That is true.

Preparation for Death

In the Phaedo, Socrates then goes on to tell his followers that the true work of Philosophy is to prepare for death. This is done, in part, by detaching from the body and its needs, its pleasures, and its pains. This withdrawal is what we call fasting, to which Jesus enjoins us here.

Now the Laws of Rhythm and Polarity comes back into play. In traditional practice, the Fast is followed by the Feast as Life is followed by Death. In the fast, we prepare for death, by withdrawing ourselves from the appetites of our body. But the feast too is a preparation for death! Just as the long fast of Advent is followed by the joy of Christmas, and the long fast of Lent by the joy of the Easter Season, so the long and weary earthly pilgrimage is followed by the awakening to Eternal Life.

Why Fast in Secret?

Let's close by reminding ourselves that Jesus tells us to fast in secret, as we are to pray in secret-- and for just the same reason. If we fast to win points from our fellow men, we'll achieve that goal. If we fast to be rewarded by our Father in Heaven, we'll achieve that, as well.