When spiritual authority is centered in one self

[Guest guest]

by Dennis L. Trunk

 

Part 2: A Satori Story or

The Mind And The World Aren't What They Seem To Be

 

Unfortunately, the born-again experience, with its sense of a

personal spiritual relationship with God, was evanescent (which may

explain the constant need for "revivals" among born-agains). Even

with devoted care and nurturing, it didn't continue for more than

about two years. Gradually and insensibly, the feeling of inner life

vanished, replaced by a spiritual aridity as intense as the

relationship had been. At an indefinable point, I became atheist in

feeling without actually adopting the belief.

 

Around the same time, through study and inquiry, I was awakening to

find that the religious "eternal truths" I had been spoon-fed from

childhood were not necessarily true. As the "truths" fell one by

one, I began to feel betrayed by the Church and by its stubborn

resistance to change. Vatican II and the pope who had initiated it

had come and gone, promising unprecedented reform and openness. But

conservatives - most importantly, those in the hierarchy where the

only true power in the Church resided - were doing their best to

undermine the promise and to restore authoritarian rule. This was

Church politics, not spirituality. The combination of events - the

aridity, the disappointment and my growing cynicism - eventually

came to an odd and dramatic climax.

 

I had been engaged in a severe struggle with my conscience for some

time. In many ways, it was like an automaton, nothing more than the

blind internalized authority of family, church and state which is

encultured into each of us when we are children. As my knowledge in

a variety of subjects increased and my thinking diverged from my

upbringing and religious training, my conscience refused to grow in

harmony. It insisted on returning to childhood thinking. And so, day

after day, an internal battle of authority ensued; my certainty that

I was right pitted against my conscience's insistence that it was

right. The dispute seemed interminable and unresolvable.

 

But, on the final day of the struggle, while I was mentally

wrestling with myself, an idea arose in my mind as clearly as if a

voice had said it to me internally, "But conscience is the voice of

God!" It was a startling idea. I had never heard or considered it

before, and it seemed to come out of nowhere. But, simultaneously,

an intuition arose that this idea expressed the essence of the

problem: unconsciously, I had been under the illusion that I was

battling against God. That's why I had allowed conscience to carry

so much authority and had deferred to it so often.

 

With that realization, I moved immediately and firmly to strike down

the belief. And in that instant, I felt a sharp pang of terror at

opposing so august an authority. My mind reeled as if it was a

physical edifice being rocked from seismic attack, and then it

seemed to crack and crumble. A portion of it, in fact, seemed to

disintegrate and vanish. But, as soon as it did so, a wave of

blissful energy swept over me, like a spiritual rain coming from

above, and my mind quickly settled into complete peace. It was over

in a moment. As I looked around the room, everything in my

surroundings appeared as bright and cleansed as I felt internally.

Conscience had turned out to be a paper tiger. From that moment on,

spiritual authority would be centered in myself, and never again in

my conscience or in another person. The fragmentation had ended. The

change was permanent.

 

I dimly suspected at the time that the experience had revealed much

more than I was ready to understand. I wondered whether only

conscience itself was an illusion, or whether the entire mind might

be just as illusory. But the latter did not seem possible. After

all, in the experience there was an "I" to wage the battle and to

witness the change. And that "I" was an anchor; it seemed to be who

I am. But if the entire mind, including the "I," was an illusion

which could be made to vanish completely, what would be left? I

imagined that the answer would be nothing, and that didn't make

sense. (For a similar example of an internal battle of "I's," see

this Excerpt from the enlightenment story of Eckhart Tolle.)

 

http://www.eckharttolle.com/mystics_masters.htm

 

Not long afterwards - about four years after the metanoia that had

led me into the religious life - I decided to leave it. And, once

again, as in the turnabout on the staircase, I did not consciously

make the decision. To my surprise, it arose in my mind as fully

formed as if someone else had made it for me. Something had gotten

me into this, and now something was getting me out. A strange thing,

the mind. I wanted to know more about its nature and the nature of

the world it showed me.

 

metta, Era