In my readings within the subject of religion I frequently felt that there was a stream of thought and practice that seemed more unified, and in some ways more authentic, than religion. I dubbed that unified strand “spirituality.” I observed that when possessed at a deeper level, spirituality consistently appeared to not just acknowledge but embrace unity and love, appreciate diversity, and honor compassion. These manifestations are often viewed in many non-religious circles as tragically lacking in religion past and present. Even those who hold to a specific religious practice testify to the ostracisms at least, atrocities at worst, in the history of religion, even their own. Religion at this divisive end of the continuum too often fosters exodus from anything spiritual, or sends those who have left the religious fold into some splinter sect of unguided subjectivism. As I continued to study, which included my own experiential activity, I would find writings that came close to delineating this disparity in my readings, but the three authors I present in this article bring it into focus with substantial clarity. Through my exposure to their collective study and investigation of the subject, what I had termed “spirituality,” would be more aptly categorized as esoteric or “transformation.” The conclusion will be cautionary with instructive words for navigating in daily practice the esoteric or “transformation” life. (I put both translation and transformation in quotes because they are primarily Wilber’s words; I don’t utilize the more familiar words exoteric and esoteric exclusively because Wilber’s are informative and descriptive in their own right.)

“Because the quest for God and for transcendence is universal, each world religion has an esoteric as well as an exoteric side. Each religion serves both the larger populace for whom the simpler teachings suffice and those who must have this experiential knowledge. One might picture a religion as an ellipse, an oval in which all the points are equidistant from two centers. The two centers of religion are its exoteric and esoteric sides. As different as these two sides are, they are nevertheless part of the same tradition. They define different points on a continuum of religious experience and reflection. They are also often mutually interdependent – the esoteric few requiring the support of the populace to free them for their time-consuming practices, and the populace drawing intellectual and spiritual support from their spiritual elite (Bache, 1990, p. 16).”

“I have tried to show that religion itself has always performed two very important, but very different, functions. One, it acts as a way of creating meaning for the separate self: it offers myths and stories and tales and narratives and rituals and revivals that, taken together, help the separate self make sense of, and endure, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. This function of religion does not usually or necessarily change the level of consciousness in a person; it does not deliver radical transformation. Nor does it deliver a shattering liberation from the separate self altogether. Rather, it consoles the self, fortifies the self, defends the self, promotes the self. As long as the separate self believes the myths, performs the rituals, mouths the prayers, or embraces the dogma, then the self, it is fervently believed, will be ‘saved’ – either now in the glory of being God-saved or Goddess-favored, or in an afterlife that insures eternal wonderment.

But two, religion has also served—in a usually very, very small minority—the function of radical transformation and liberation. This function of religion does not fortify the separate self, but utterly shatters it—not consolation but devastation, not entrenchment but emptiness, not complacency but explosion, not comfort but revolution—in short, not a conventional bolstering of consciousness but a radical transmutation and transformation at the deepest seat of consciousness itself.

There are several different ways that we can state these two important functions of religion. The first function—that of creating meaning for the self—is a type of horizontal movement; the second function—that of transcending the self—is a type of vertical movement (higher or deeper, depending on your metaphor). The first I have named ‘translation,’ the second, ‘transformation.’ (Wilber, 2009).”

“The real contrast, therefore, is not between Eastern and Western religions, but between what is often referred to as the esoteric and exoteric sides of religion.

The exoteric or ‘public’ side of religion is the more conventional side. It is the ‘religion of the people’ cradling the masses of humanity. It is that form of religion one finds at the local church, synagogue, or temple. Obviously it encompasses a wide range of observance and authenticity.

To find the esoteric or ‘secret’ side of religion, one has to travel a bit. The mystical side of religion attracts those for whom belief alone is not sufficient, those who must actually experience the realities the doctrines describe. It calls for a more demanding life-style and draws only those who are willing to invest their entire life in a regiment of spiritual practice.

In the esoteric traditions one is not simply taught subtle concepts but is experientially initiated into the realities behind those concepts. Verbal theories become progressively less important as experience matures. Words literally lose their meaning without the experiences they assume (Bache, 1990, p. 15-16).”

“To continue with the analogy of the ellipse, we might represent the interrelation of the various religions of the world as a series of overlapping ellipses. The outer circle of dots represents the exoteric dimensions of the religions, the inner circle the esoteric. At the exoteric or popular level, what stands out are the differences in religious observance. Different religions celebrate different rituals, read from different holy books, follow different sacred calendars, name Ultimate Reality by different names, and so on. Yet at the esoteric or mystical level, there is a surprising convergence of views. Here the similarities stand out more. The reason the esoteric levels of different religions tend to converge is really quite simple. Spiritual seekers around the globe are exploring the psychospiritual side of existence, and this reality is the same for all human beings. We may speak and think in many languages, but the anatomy of our brains is uniform in the species. Similarly, the more deeply we penetrate the spiritual fabric of existence, the more we exchange cultural diversities for common ground (Bache, 1990, p. 17, emphases added).”

Speaking to the continuum of the exoteric or “translation” to esoteric or “transformation,” Wilber states, “…on the whole, both of these functions are incredibly important and altogether indispensable. Individuals are not, for the most part, born enlightened. They are born in a world of sin and suffering, hope and fear, desire and despair. They are born as a self ready and eager to contract; a self rife with hunger, thirst, tears and terror. And they begin, quite early on, to learn various ways to translate their world, to make sense of it, to give meaning to it, and to defend themselves against the terror and the torture never lurking far beneath the happy surface of the separate self.

And as much as we, as you and I, might wish to transcend mere translation and find an authentic transformation, nonetheless translation itself is an absolutely necessary and crucial function for the greater part of our lives. Those who cannot translate adequately, with a fair amount of integrity and accuracy, fall quickly into severe neurosis or even psychosis: the world ceases to make sense—the boundaries between the self and the world are not transcended but instead begin to crumble. This is not breakthrough but breakdown; not transcendence, but disaster.

But at some point in our maturation process, translation itself, no matter how adequate or confident, simply ceases to console. No new beliefs, no new paradigm, no new myths, no new ideas, will staunch the encroaching anguish. Not a new belief for the self, but the transcendence of the self altogether, is the only path that avails (Wilber, 2009).”

Despite its errors, the exoteric or “translation” end of the continuum is very pragmatic, and necessary. “The capacity of a religion to provide horizontal meaning, legitimacy and sanction for the self and its beliefs—that function of religion has historically been the single greatest ‘social glue’ that any culture has.

And one does not tamper easily, or lightly, with the basic glue that holds societies together. Because more often than not, when that glue dissolves—when that translation dissolves—the result, as we were saying, is not breakthrough but breakdown, not liberation but social chaos (Wilber, 2009).”

Yet we are offered the depth of authenticity to permeate the legitimacy of the collective. “Where translative religion offers legitimacy, transformative religion offers authenticity. For those few individuals who are ready—that is, sick with the suffering of the separate self, and no longer able to embrace the legitimate worldview—a transformative opening to true authenticity, true enlightenment, true liberation, calls more and more insistently. And, depending upon your capacity for suffering, you will sooner or later answer the call of authenticity, of transformation …

Implicit in all of this is the fact that we are “beings” or are needing to “be” in the world, “even though you and I might deeply believe that the most important function we can perform is to offer authentic transformative spirituality, the fact is, much of what we have to do, in our capacity to bring decent spirituality into the world, is actually to offer more benign and helpful modes of translation. In other words, even if we ourselves are practicing, or offering, authentic transformative spirituality, nonetheless much of what we must first do is provide most people with a more adequate way to translate their condition. We must start with helpful translations before we can effectively offer authentic transformations. (Wilber, 2009).” Wilber speaks as though he is looking over at those who need to authenticate as if Wilber has completed the journey. But my experience and readings inform me that a life-long spiraling of transformative insights grace the journey. I do wish to proclaim that there is a deeper path, but through wisdom I recognize that my transformation can always use honesty, humility, and refinement.

“But in between, there is the angry wisdom that shouts from the heart: we must, all of us, keep our eye on the radical and ultimate transformative goal. And so any sort of integral or authentic spirituality will also, always, involve a critical, intense and occasionally polemical shout from the transformative camp to the merely translative camp.

Thus, the authentic spiritual camps have the heart and soul of the great transformative traditions, and yet they will always do two things at once: appreciate and engage the lesser and translative practices (upon which their own successes usually depend), but also issue a thundering shout from the heart that translation alone is not enough (Wilber, 2009).”

Andrew Cohen likens this transformative movement, often initiated by overwhelming Divine nudges, to the first stages of a relationship. “When spirit overwhelms us, when we experience higher states of consciousness, previously unseen worlds open up to us. On the wings of spiritual ecstasy, deeper and higher human capacities for penetrating insight, profound cognition, blissful intimacy, and all-encompassing love reveal themselves in all their glory. It is, in many ways, very similar to what it’s like when we fall in love. When we fall in love, the surging waves of surrendered affection carry with them an experience of a trust and vulnerability that is intoxicating, spiritually fulfilling, and life-affirming. And when we fall out of love, the bond of trust disintegrates, intimacy evaporates, and transparency and vulnerability disappear. The thrill of euphoric unity is gone and one is alone again, trapped in the prison of one’s own personal mind and separate ego.

The same sequence often follows extraordinary episodes of spiritual illumination. When we experience states of consciousness beyond ego and realize spiritual communion with others, we enter into another dimension that literally transcends the old and familiar. And in this new world, we discover a oneness, an ecstatic intimacy, an ease of being, and a unity of mind that make all things possible. But when those higher states eventually dissipate, too often the palpable sense of unlimited possibility is nowhere to be found.

In the early stages of our own spiritual development, we are dependent upon the experience of euphoric states to be able to see, feel, and know that these higher potentials really do exist. The bliss and ecstasy of those states temporarily breaks the deep and often unconscious shackles of postmodernity: nihilism, cynicism, narcissism, and materialism. It frees our awareness to expand in all directions, to embrace not only the outer limits but also the innermost core of our larger body, the entire Kosmos.

But until the individual or individuals have actually taken that next step, until those higher potentials have become a permanent attainment, our ability to see the future that we want to create will always depend upon the experience of spiritual intoxication (Cohen, 2009).”

We will be addicts of high voltage experiences, the purpose no longer an invitation to all that we can be (are), but a retraction into maintaining our egoic self. “I don’t mean to be harsh here, and we must honor all lesser engagements. Nonetheless, you must have noticed that the word ‘soul’ is now the hottest item in bestselling book titles—but all ‘soul’ really means, in most of these books, is simply the ego in drag. ‘Soul’ has come to denote, in this feeding frenzy of translative grasping, not that which is timeless in you but that which most loudly thrashes around in time, and thus ‘care of the soul’ incomprehensibly means nothing much more than focusing intensely on your ardently separate self. Likewise, ‘spiritual’ is on everybody’s lips, but usually all it really means is any intense egoic feeling, just as ‘heart’ has come to mean any sincere sentiment of the self-contraction.

All of this, truly, is just the same ole translative game, dressed up and gone to town (Wilber, 2009).”

References:

Bache, C.M. (1990). Lifecycles: Reincarnation and the web of life. New York, Random House.

Cohen, A. (2009). From spiritual intoxication to spiritual evolution. Retrieved January 2, 2009 from http://www.andrewcohen.org/blog/index.php?/blog/post/from-spiritual-intoxication-to-spiritual-evolution/.

Wilber, K. (2009). A spirituality that transforms. Retrieved January 2, 2009 from http://www.enlightennext.org/magazine/j12/wilber.asp?ifr=hp-edt.

Joel Jacobs, 2009, All Rights Reserved