The great Christian mystic and teacher Meister Eckhart wrote,
“God is beyond all understanding. A master says: ‘If I had a God that I could understand, I would not regard him as God.’ If you understand anything about him, then he is not in it, and by understanding something of him, you fall into ignorance." 1
I doubt that Eckhart's words are an injunction to worship and experience God without trying to understand what it is we worship or experience, for it is our nature to want to understand our world, to find meaning in our experiences, especially those of the numinous. I don't just want to think about God. I want to understand the nature of the Divine, and why I am continually drawn to contemplate the Ultimate mystery, like waves drawn endlessly back to the sea.
The paths of devotion and good deeds offer their own rewards and can be fulfilling for those who follow, and both are often strenuously advocated for women. Yet we are body, mind and soul; surely each participates in our spiritual being, and brings different qualities to our spiritual experiences. We are designed to know the Divine through all parts of our being.
Sages and mystics have always taught that we cannot know God through mind alone for Truth greatly exceeds the capacity of the human intellect, no matter how impressive it may be. It is in the opening up of mind, the melting of its borders that opens the Gates of Perception so wide that spirit can be heard and understood by the heart, soul's home within us.
Of course, it has taken me almost a lifetime to know and really understand this, a great deal of struggle and much despair for from childhood, I was convinced that all knowledge could be gained by those who developed a well-trained, disciplined mind and dedicated to study. To hinder the intellect was, to me, unconscionable, but I learned rather early that outside of my small family, the female intellect was often not only hindered but shunned.
In my early or pre-teens, I began reading the Bible, and in my eagerness to understand some of what I read, I sought out a priest of our little Orthodox church, a man much admired for his humility and sweet nature, and asked if he could explain some thing for me. To my astonishment, he snapped at me irritably, scowling that I must not read the Bible, especially being a girl, that my duty was to listen to the readings in service and pay respect to the holy book with a worshipful kiss. He would not say more, but angrily waved me away. I was shocked and hurt, for he clearly interpreted my earnestness as disrespect for holy tradition.
I cannot be sure that this priest's reaction arose from beliefs about the female intellect as well as about women's correct place. Maybe it didn't. Nevertheless, it affected me deeply. I never talked about my spiritual seeking with anyone thereafter until well into my fifties, keeping my searches, reflections and questions to myself.
This attitude about woman's place in religion is still, I must admit, a point of discord in my relationship with the institution of religion, which can and does wander from its revelatory origins, often with devastating results.
What triggered these memories and reflections a few days ago was reading about the female Hindu philosopher, Gargi, and the great Hindu Sage, Yajnavalkya. Gargi asked many questions, each urging the Sage to tell more about the nature of the Divine and Its relationship to the world.
"Yajnavalkya became very angry and said: "O Gargi, do not ask too much and if you ask more, your head will fall off."2
This reminded me also of Peter's hostile reaction to Mary Magdalene's questions to Jesus in the Gospel of Mary and the Pistis Sophia, and the story of Mary of Bethany, whom I imagine soaking in tbe deeper teachings that Jesus gave to his intimates when they were together, the true mysteries of the Divine.
Except for martyrs and certain acetics or nuns, women are not taken seriously by and large in Christianity, even though Jesus, by all accounts, welcomed them. As in Judiac law, women are often treated as part-persons, corruptible and corrupting and unworthy to speak or read sacred teachings. The depths to which this spiritual mysogeny can fall are clearly illustrated in the horrific murder of the Hellenic mathematician-philosopher, Hypatia, by Cyril's Christian followers (without his approval, I hope) and the centuries-long persecution of women as witches.
These thoughts triggered the following poem, but it's not about that. I just wanted to share what I was thinking about before and after I wrote it.
Divinity
Ancient Gargi sits
tugging persistent
at threads of knowledge
reluctantly disclosed,
urging forth one by one
from the Sage's mouth
question by question
revelations
unraveling the precious tapestry
of Everything.
Mary sits listening
at the Master's feet
drinking thirstily of the waters
flowing from his mouth
all else forgetting
in this awakening
to the true nature
of Everything.
Rise up O soul
from fruitless longing
and know your Source ...
Creator of all that can be named
Father-Mother, Goodness
Ultimate Radiance
wrapped in dark cloud
Naught but Itself
containing Everything.
Simplicity
mysterium tremendum
caught by those who fish
in deep parables and riddles
Too fragile to be spoken
Too strong to be broken
into easier parts
Light as the space between flickering atoms
Ponderous beyond all bearing
Needing nothing
Giving Everything.
Divinity
Infinite potential
Fundament of the world
and all possible worlds
manifest and unmanifest
Unborn, Imperishable, Undivided
male and female, light and darkness
action-passivity
Transcendent - within Everything.
Maker of the Law of
Perpetual Unfolding
of the law-breakers
and their redeemers
Permitter of ego's devilish desire
Source of hope insistent
of fortitude
Love, the Law fulfilled.
O refuge, O comfort, strength
that lifts me through lifetimes
out of fear, doubt, ignorance.
Without It, separate,
I would not be
Nor all the universes.
1 Meister Eckhart, Sermon 12
2http://somaditya-banerjee.blogspot.com.au/2010/04/st1 ory-of-yajnavalkya-and-gargi.html