Sufi Spirituality—Part 3: Final Integration

Well into his lectures to his brethren at Gethsemani Abbey on the similarities between Cistercian and Sufi mysticism, Thomas Merton introduced the work of a professor of psychiatry at George Washington University in Washington, DC, who wrote a book that described a Sufi/psychiatric analysis of what the later stages of the path towards union with God means. The professor wrote his book in 1965: Final Integration in the Adult Personality: A Measure for Health, Social Change, and Leadership, by A. Reza Arasteh. The book is a fascinating blend of perennial Sufi teachings and modern psychiatric thought.

Arasteh describes the path of spiritual development as proceeding through three levels: (1) the instinctual level, such as when a child is in its infancy (similar to an animal), (2) cultural development, wherein one learns to align one's emotions and actions with society's expectations (if not its demands), and (3) going beyond society into union with God. The meaning of life is thus all about growth, learning, and change.

Arasteh also describes three inner conflicts that we struggle with, on this path to final integration. We must come to an understanding and acceptance of these internal conflicts, in order to hold to the path of maturation. The first of the inner conflicts concerns our struggle with death. All we have known in our younger lives is continuity, so we tend to feel our life will go on—that we should even be immortal. But we must come to see that death is built into life... it's a natural part of existence. We must accept that fact.

The second struggle or inner conflict that we must deal with is the issue of what constitutes a meaningful life. None of us wants to accept that our life has had no meaning. We want to feel that our life made a difference to someone or to society. Some of us deal with this struggle by seeking some kind of popularity or acquiring a feeling of importance, so as to feel notable. We want to be seen as creative, to be admired... these days to have thousands of Facebook “friends.” It’s just another way of seeking some kind of immortality.

The third struggle follows from the second—it is that we must come to see that, overall, society is meaningless. Although we've come to feel that our life acquires meaning by conforming to society's norms, we must at some point come to the realization that these norms are basically irrational. It is not easy to arrive at this insight, because we've often already absorbed much of society's inculcation and it's hard to admit that we've swallowed the Kool-Aid. It's hard to back out and take our next step in the journey.

Thus the path to full integration, in Arasteh's perspective, is to grow beyond both society and popular culture. This is precisely the path that monks have chosen, when they enter a monastery.

The gift of final integration is to come to understand that we do not need to strive for the bogus creativity that society desires, but seek the true creativity that comes from union with God. God is the ultimate creativity.

The challenge of going beyond society's meaninglessness is to come to realize a deeper understanding: that those of us who seek to detach from society are often still in it, to some degree—unless we fully retreat to some desert hideaway. So how do we participate in society to the degree that makes sense, without becoming a part of society? That's the perennial challenge for the contemplative. Again, monastics do it by withdrawing behind cloistered walls.

Sufi Spirituality—Part 2: Blockages

In the previous post I introduced some of Thomas Merton’s description of the basic Sufi perspectives on the spiritual path—that God is above all and in all, and how a Sufi seeks a progressive path to union with God. This post will consider some thoughts Sufis have about things that can get in the way of that spiritual work. To begin with, a Sufi must have the faith that God is love and compassion (and will lead us on), yet is also beyond our ever being able to fully understand. So the path is endless. Finally, don't get trapped by dualistic perceptions that good and bad exist as opposing forces. Take it all in... it's all sacred.

As you progress along the path and pass through and beyond the preliminary stages of spiritual development, you may well become mired down at some point, due to the feeling that you've accomplished some pretty good things. It can cause you to become a bit lazy and begin to rest on your laurels, feeling a bit smug. You may look back with pride and note the advancement you’ve made, or feel that you stand a bit higher than those around you. This can cause you to halt your progress and lose momentum.

When this happens, Sufis say that you have become blocked by one or more of three “veils” or screens that have gotten in your way and are hindering further progress, because you've allowed an inflated self-image to blind you. The three veils are becoming aware of or taking some pride in (1) your good deeds, (2) your merits, or (3) the fact that you have even come to see yourself as somewhat of a mystic. You've become derailed by a subtle kind of self-praise—even feeling the slightest hint of your ego. A little vanity has crept in.

You must seek a delicate balance when this occurs, by cultivating a degree of self-awareness, which is at the core of the examined life. (As Socrates maintained, the unexamined life is hardly worth living.) So you need a good dose of self-awareness, to guard against yourself becoming diverted by too much self-esteem. The Sufi spiritual path—like all spiritual paths—must therefore also be a humble one; one that recognizes your shortcomings as you simultaneously note and appreciate your progress. That’s the examined, balanced life.

There is yet another, more subtle but unyielding source of blockage that Sufis say we might encounter along the spiritual path. We encounter it when we come upon an obstacle that seems to be a barrier or something like a locked gate thwarting our progress. We have a tendency, when this happens, simply to seek the key that will open the lock, so we may then open the gate and continue through. Seeking the key becomes the quick answer. This approach is a common one for those who are active in society. It is the wrong approach.

In fact, when seeking a Sufi union with God, we must realize that there is no key... the lock is us! We are the barrier; we are getting in our own way. Often the blockage—the lock—is caused by our seeking ways to fit into society. In the next post I will describe how Sufis say one must go beyond society, in order to make real progress on the path.

Many times we can break that lock by not focusing on the key, because doing so can cause our conscious mind to literally seize up, and become frozen in frustration. It can help to relax, open to it all, and simply quit pushing. If we faithfully adhere to the path, the way will open—whether it be due to some insight of our unconscious mind (which is the greater part of our mind) or due to the grace of God… if we pause and allow ourselves to understand that the blockage is us! If we quit intellectualizing and trying to force our way past by obsessing on the key to the lock, we will set ourselves free, by coming to see that there actually is no lock… there is no exterior blockage.

Next time: going beyond society’s obstacles…

Sufi Spirituality—Part 1: Introduction

Thomas Merton—a monk at Gethsemani Cistercian Abbey in Kentucky in the 1940s through 60s—gave a series of lectures to his monastic brothers on the tenets of Sufism. He was struck by the many similarities between the mystical qualities of his Catholic faith and those of Sufis, the mystical branch of Islam. Nearly three decades ago I sojourned for a month at the Holy Cross Cistercian Abbey in Virginia and had an opportunity to listen to those talks of Merton on tapes. They made a deep impression on me. In this and the next two posts I will offer some highlights of Merton's Sufi lectures, that especially spoke to me.

Sufis stress the importance of union with God. It is their central practice. They have no specific doctrine or answers... no formal institutional structure or hierarchy. Sufis see that God is both above all and in all. Since God is above all, there is no end to our spiritual growth, and if we ever think we've arrived, we're really just stuck.

If God is in everything, then that includes every one of us. As long as I keep that in mind, I am OK. So a major Sufi tenet is: don’t fret over there being good or bad in the world—it's all God. And don't try to explain the world or don't complain about it... it is what it is, and it's God-infused. Any problems or evil we detect come mostly from ourselves. Any imperfections we perceive are in us.

Sufis say that we have very little ability to comprehend God's way—even if we get occasional mystical glimpses, we must recognize that it is far beyond us to understand, let alone be able to describe it. The closest we can come is to appreciate the beauty of the universe. It's the closest we'll ever get to God; and that closeness comes from the heart—not the mind.

Sufis say that God's compassion is exhibited by God's manifestation in everything. I have struggled with that belief. How may I comprehend God's compassion as being caused by God's presence in everything? I have tentatively concluded that, because Sufis say that God is in everything—thus nothing is excluded—therefore God must love all; must have compassion for all. Thus, our concept of evil (usually personified in the West as Satan) is an exclusive concept, is a dualistic notion... in that it implies something lies outside God, while Sufis say God is not only above all, but in all. Thus nothing can be outside God... even evil.

At times, Sufis say, we get a message that we've screwed up. It's primarily a message that tells us we must redouble our efforts for seeking union with God. I have also pondered that idea, and have tried to perceive it from my Western perspective. It occurs to me that I may interpret that message as being my conscience speaking to me. It also sounds to me as something similar to Socrates' daemon—which he believed to be an inner voice that alerted him when he was about to make a spiritual mistake. Whatever the source of this inner message is, pausing to pay attention to it is a crucial part of the discipline of working toward the Sufi union with God.

The journey never ends, but is a slow, relentless, and progressive process. We go through many stations—each of which is a stepwise progression. From time to time, one may pause at a particular station for a while, to soak up the lessons recently learned, but the journey must soon continue. We must let go of the current station and its possible comforts and enjoyment, and step off into the unknown, towards the next station. It calls for courage and faith. It can be frightening. It is a kind of rebirth... we die to the previous station and become reborn on the next level.

Next time: How we block our own progress.