Esoterica and Mysticism

Could anyone recommend any good books (or other resources) that offer an introduction to Christian mysticism or esoteric Christian thought, i.e. Gnosticism etc?

On Christian mysticism, it might be worth reading some of the classics such as The Cloud of Unknowing, and works by the likes of Julian of Norwich, St John of the Cross, Meister Eckhart, Hildegard of Bingen, Theresa of Avila, etc.

More recent authors that I like would include Thomas Merton, Antony de Mello (his Awareness is one of my favourites), Bede Griffiths, John Main, Richard Rohr and Illa Delio. This is largely a Catholic list, as that is the tradition in which I am rooted.

A couple of books I have just rediscovered on my bookshelf are Breakfast at the Victory by James P Carse and The Solace of Fierce Landscapes by Belden C Lane, both of which I read many years ago.

While you specifically ask about Christian mysticism, I would nevertheless also recommend Thich Nhat Hanh, who I find to be in step with the experience of many Christian mystics. The mystical experience often transcends the different religions.

On esoterica such as gnosticism I don't claim any special knowledge and I hope others will be able to make recommendations.

>2 John5918:

I had overlooked a well known protestant, Howard Thurman, who combined mysticism with activism. Another whom I would name is Una Kroll. I had the privilege of knowing her as a spiritual counsellor for a period around thirty years ago, when she was living as a hermitess in Wales. Later she was ordained as an Anglican priest, and I learned that she eventually converted to Catholicism.

And here's a short reflection on mysticism by Catholic Fr Richard Rohr (link):

We live in a time of both crisis and opportunity. While there are many reasons to be anxious, I still have hope. Westerners, including Christians, are rediscovering the value of nonduality: a way of thinking, acting, reconciling, boundary-crossing, and bridge-building based on inner experience of God and God’s Spirit moving in the world. We’re not throwing out our rational mind, but we’re adding nondual, mystical, contemplative consciousness. When we have both, we’re able to see more broadly, deeply, wisely, and lovingly. We can collaborate on creative solutions to today’s injustices.

Can seeing with the eyes of mystics really have relevance in our busy modern world? I think it is not only relevant but absolutely necessary to change our levels of consciousness, which many religious traditions might have also called growth in holiness or divine union. As Einstein said (though now in my own words), we have tried to solve today’s problems with yesterday’s software—which often caused the problem in the first place. Through a regular practice of contemplation we can awaken to the profound presence of the unitive Spirit, which then gives us the courage and capacity to face the paradox that everything is—ourselves included. Higher levels of consciousness always allow us to include and understand more. Deeper levels of divine union allow us to forgive and show compassion toward more and more, even those we are not naturally attracted to, and even our enemies.

Mystics have plumbed the depths of both suffering and love, and emerged with depths of compassion for the world, and a learned capacity to recognize God within themselves, in others, and in all things. If we can read the mystics with an attitude of simple mindfulness, the insights and practices they share can equip us with a deep and embracing peace, even in the presence of the many kinds of limitation and suffering that life offers us. From such contact with the deep rivers of grace, we can live our lives from a place of nonjudgment, forgiveness, love, and a quiet contentment with the ordinariness of our lives—knowing now that it is not ordinary at all!

By applying the wisdom of the mystics to our daily and even momentary outlooks, we will be able to bring open-heartedness into the lives we lead and the work we do. Then we might just be able to recognize that the ordinary path can also be the way of the mystic. It is all a matter of the eyes and the heart.

Studying the mystics, and hopefully identifying with them in at least some small way, allows us into the seemingly simple yet always profound realm of those who have found their way close to God and all of creation. The path of the mystic is within our reach.

Our Limited Perspectives

Every viewpoint is a view from a point. Unless we recognize and admit our own personal and cultural viewpoints, we will never know how to decentralize our own perspective. We will live with a high degree of illusion that brings much suffering into the world. I think this is what Simone Weil meant by stating, “The love of God is the unique source of all certainties.” ¹ Only an outer and positive reference point utterly grounds the mind and heart.

One of the keys to wisdom is that we must recognize our own biases, our own addictive preoccupations, and those things to which, for some reason, we refuse to pay attention. Until we see these patterns (which is early-stage contemplation), we will never be able to see what we do not see. Without such critical awareness of the small self, there is little chance that any individual will produce truly great knowing or enduring wisdom.

Only people who have done their inner work can see beyond their own biases to something transcendent, something that crosses the boundaries of culture and individual experience. People with a distorted image of self, world, or God will be largely incapable of experiencing what is Really Real in the world. They will see things through a narrow keyhole. They’ll see instead what they need reality to be, what they’re afraid it is, or what they’re angry about. They’ll see everything through their aggression, their fear, or their agenda. In other words, they won’t see it at all.

That’s the opposite of true contemplatives, who have an enhanced capacity to see what is, whether it’s favorable or not, whether it meets their needs or not, whether they like it or not, and whether that reality causes weeping or rejoicing. Most of us will usually misinterpret our experience until we have been moved out of our false center. Until then, there is too much of the self in the way. Most of us do not see things as they are; we see things as we are. That is no small point.

When we touch our deepest image of self, a deeper image of reality, or a new truth about God, we’re touching something that opens us to the sacred. We’ll want to weep or to be silent, or to run away from it and change the subject because it’s too deep, it’s too heavy. As T. S. Eliot wrote, “human kind cannot bear very much reality.” ²

That’s why I—and so many others—emphasize contemplation. It’s the way of going to the experience of the absolute without going toward ideology. There’s a difference. It’s going toward the experience of the good, the true, the beautiful, the real without going into a head trip, or taking the small self—or one’s momentary vantage point—too seriously.

1. Simone Weil, “God in Plato,” in On Science, Necessity, and the Love of God, trans. and ed. Richard Rees (London: Oxford University Press, 1968), 104.

2. T. S. Eliot, “Four Quartets: Burnt Norton,” in The Complete Poems and Plays, 1909–1950 (New York: Harcourt Brace, 1980), 118.

To my mind this short reflection on contemplation from Catholic Fr Richard Rohr points to some of the problems we find in the world and indeed in conversations in this LT Christianity group. Too often we are all stuck in "our own personal and cultural viewpoints" with "a high degree of illusion", and we fail to move beyond "own biases to something transcendent, something that crosses the boundaries of culture and individual experience". We fail to touch "something that opens us to the sacred", to go "to the experience of the absolute without going toward ideology". Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

Two more quotes regarding "everyday" mysicism, the first from Catholic Franciscan priest Richard Rohr, and the second from Matthew Fox, formerly a Catholic Dominican priest but now Episcopalian:

I’ve noticed in the Gospels that even after two appearances of the Risen Christ, the apostles return to their old job of fishing (John 21:3). They don’t join the priesthood, try to get a job at the Temple, go on more retreats, take vows, leave their wives, or get special titles. Nor is there any mention of them baptizing each other or wearing special clothing beyond that of a wayfarer or “workman” (Matthew 10:9–10). When the inner is utterly transformed, we don’t need symbolic outer validations, special hats, or flashy insignia.

We can also note that the Risen Christ is never apparent as a supernatural figure, but is mistaken in one case for a gardener, another time for a fellow traveler on the road, and then for a fisherman offering advice. He seems to look just like everybody else after the Resurrection (John 20:15; Luke 24:13–35; John 21:4–6), even with his wounds on full display! In the Gospels it appears we can all go back to “fishing” after any authentic God encounter, consciously carrying our humiliating wounds, only now more humbly. That is our only badge of honor. In fact, it is exactly our woundedness that gives us any interest in healing itself, and the very power to heal others. As Henri Nouwen rightly said, the only authentic healers are always wounded healers. Good therapists will often say the same.

True mysticism just allows us to “fish” from a different side of the boat and with different expectations of what success might mean. All the while, we are totally assured that we are already and always floating on a big, deep, life-filled pond. The mystical heart knows there is a fellow Fisherman nearby who is always available for good advice. He stands and beckons from the shores, at the edges of every ordinary life, every unreligious moment, every “secular” occupation, and he is still talking to working people who, like the first disciples, are not important, influential, especially “holy,” trained in theology, or even educated. This is the mystical doorway, which is not narrow but wide and welcoming. Richard Rohr, Eager to Love: The Alternative Way of Francis of Assisi (Cincinnati, OH: Franciscan Media, 2014), 16–17.

Deep down, each one of us is a mystic. When we tap into that energy we become alive again and we give birth. From the creativity that we release is born the prophetic vision and work that we all aspire to realize as our gift to the world. We want to serve in whatever capacity we can. Getting in touch with the mystic inside is the beginning of our deep service….

Mysticism is about the awe and the gratitude, the letting go and the letting be, the birthing and the creativity, and the compassion—including healing and celebration and justice making—that our world so sorely needs…. Every mystic is a healer. We are healers all. Matthew Fox, Christian Mystics: 365 Readings and Meditations (Novato, CA: New World Library, 2011), 3, 5.

With reference to Howard Thurman, mentioned above, there's an online thingie on "the great spiritual teacher, theologian, mystic, and Civil Rights leader Howard Thurman" with Dr. Lerita Brown on October 26th. She is one of the leading Thurman scholars and will reflect on his teachings from her book, What Makes You Come Alive: A Spiritual Walk with Howard Thurman.

To register, visit www.beatitudescenter.org.

The program will begin 11am Pacific/ 12pm Mountain/ 1pm Central/ 2pm Eastern time. You will receive the zoom link a few days beforehand, and a recording link afterwards. If you have questions, email Kassandra at beatitudescentermb@gmail.com. Scholarships are available.

As an aside, this upcoming event has prompted me to buy a copy of Thurman's great masterpiece, Jesus and the Disinherited. I'm only a couple of chapters into it so far, but I'm already appreciating its importance, and gaining new insights.