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 PresentPlotinus 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.
MeditationMany 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 LiliesMost 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.