Living the therapeutic touch: healing as a lifestyle, by Dolores Krieger, Ph

For we be brethren of the Rosie Cross;

We have the Mason Word and second sight.

In this early reference three things are coupled: occult powers ("second sight," which is precognitive clairvoyance), the Rosicrucian tradition, and Masonic means of recognition, whether auditory or visual (words, knocks, signs, grips, steps, postures, etc.). Masonic catechisms of the seventeenth century set forth, in addition to the signs of recognition, information about the structure and furnishing of lodges, the legendary history, and the rituals of initiation, most: of which arc readily recognizable to a present-day Freemason. Stevenson's argument for Scottish primacy in Freemasonry is persuasive. The English claim rests upon England's being the location of the first known Old Charges, first use of the terms freemason and accepted mason, the first lodges consisting solely of nonoperatives (that is, members who were not stonemasons), and the first Grand Lodge. On the other hand, Scotland was the location of a number of other firsts: the use of lodge for a Masonic institution, minute books and records, fraternal lodges admitting nonoperatives, the expression of ethical ideals by Masonic symbols, opposition to Freemasonry as something "sinister," the Mason Word (i.e., traditional signs of recognition), catechisms expounding Masonry, the use of the terms entered apprentice and fellowcraft, and a system of two degrees with the emergence of a third degree. Stevenson's argument that Renaissance esoteric interests blended with traditional .stonemasons' lore to create the practices of modern Freemasonry has less direct documentary support. It is, however, strongly suggested by circumstantial evidence. Stevenson thus makes a convincing argument that Freemasonry, as we know it, coalesced in Scotland shortly before 1600 rather than in England shortly after 1700. Its components were organizations of stonemasons, joined by other workmen and gentlemen with an interest in architecture, ensouled by the esoteric content of Neo-Platonism and its congeners, and modeled by such techniques as the emblem books, Vitruvian architecture, and the art of memory. Although Stevenson's argument is partly speculative and inferential, it reconciles several things: the guild tradition in Freemasonry; the legendary, emblematical traditions of the Fraternity; the "magical" or Neo-Platonic implications of the Craft; and the later attribution of additional degrees to Scotland, as "Scottish Rite." It is also supported by evidence of Freemasonic-like activities in Scotland a century before they appear with similar documentation in England.

-J.A.
August 1997

Anger, Madness, and the Daimonic: The Psychological Genesis of Violence, Evil, and Creativity, by Stephan A. Diamond, Foreword by Rollo May. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996. Hardcover, xx + 402 pages.
Obscenity, Anarchy, Reality, by Crispin Sartwell. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996. Paperback, 191 pages.
We live in a time in which we often feel that evil is overwhelming our creative capacity to solve problems in the world. Whether one looks at such events as the bombing of the federal building in Oklahoma or serial killers or suicidal cults in this country, or genocidal war in the Balkans, one often has the feeling that life is out of control. The two books under consideration here make excellent companion reading for contemplating the nature of anger, madness, and the daimonic in our time. If we are living in a time when old forms are breaking down and new forms have not yet been developed to replace them, as theologian Paul Tillich suggested, we will need to come to grips with the extreme manifestations of our humanness that are all around us. We need to better understand the relationship between transgressive and anarchic behavior and the project of becoming the persons we were meant to become. We need also to better understand the relationship between madness and creativity. In Anger, Madness, and the Daimonic, clinical psychologist Stephen Diamond considers the ancient Greek concept of the daimonic as a unified life-force with potential for both good and evil, in an effort to revitalize our psychology of human evil, psychopathology, and creativity. Diamond resists the temptation to reduce evil to a single psychiatric diagnosis, taking issue here with psychiatrist M. Scott Peck's equating evil with pathological narcissism. "The problem with Peck's perception of evil, in my view, is his proclivity to project evil exclusively onto some small segment of the population, instead of acknowledging its imminent presence in each of us" (59). Diamond would have us understand that evil is "an ever- present, archetypal potentiality in each of us"; indeed , the denial of this reality itself is evil of the most dangerous kind. The association of madness with creativity is extensively dealt with by Diamond - including considerations of the artists Vincent van Gogh and Jackson Pollock, and composer Ludwig van Beethoven. He also treats the literary genius of Jack Henry Abbott, who so enthralled literary lights such as Norman Mailer and Jerzy Kosinski that they succeeded in getting Abbott out of prison. With in weeks of his parole, Abbott fatally stabbed a young, unarmed waiter outside a trendy Manhattan restaurant. Diamond acknowledges that creative endeavor can be an outlet for rage, but wishes us to be more sensitive to the destructive aspects of the daimonic. On the other hand, he also reveals how repression of the daimonic can become a neurotic tendency and squeeze the life and spirit out of one's work. As an example, he discusses the film director Ingmar Bergman, who was told by an insightful woman friend that "the only boring thing about you ... is your passion for the wholesome. You should abandon that passion. It's false and suspect. It sets limits you daren't exceed" (293). Crispin Sartwell seems deeply to share the insight of Bergman's friend. In Obscenity, Anarchy, Reality, he argues for a philosophy of life that "loves the world precisely as it is, with all of its pain, with all of its evil, with all of its bizarre and arbitrary and monstrous thereness." We create "artificial" environments for ourselves that allow "self-forgetting," Sartwell says. Indeed, he contends that consciousness removes us from our situation, freezes and debilitates, and is a relentless nag, extremely hard to turn off once it has started (41). So, too, "Much of the world's religious history is a pathological attempt to escape the world and to be other than human." A conspicuous exception to this, he says, is Zen Buddhism, which constitutes a discipline to keep us grounded in the real. Sartwell is Assistant Professor of Philosophy at the University of Alabama. An earlier book by him is The Art of Living: The Aesthetics of the Ordinary in World Spiritual Traditions. Sartwell's philosophical considerations are grounded in extremely personal aspects of his own life. He writes:
I have been taught about reality by a hard teacher, a teacher that left me nowhere to squirm, so that I had to sit and listen: alcoholism and drug addiction. I started smoking marijuana when I was fourteen, and I smoked every day (and, most days, several times a day) for fifteen years. I drank alcoholically - that is, without being able to control my drinking once I had started - for at least ten years. I had various encounters with cocaine (including crack), LSD, and a variety of other drugs. My father died at age 49 from the combined effect of addictions (though he was sober when he died, of emphysema). One of my brothers was killed in a PCP-related murder; another brother died of a heroin overdose; yet another did five years in the state pen for a heroin-driven armed robbery. I have lost jobs, flipped cars, and so forth. [129- 30]
He goes on to write of his desire to stop using drugs and alcohol, and of his inability, for many years, to stop. And he argues that
this experience, the experience of being out of control, of having one's will broken, is, I assert, in germ, the most profound and also the most typical experience of which human beings are capable. It is the experience of coming up against what is real. Even the most powerful will in the world, and even if that will is attached to the most powerful intellect and the most powerful body, has a tiny field of action·[l30]
Sartwell draws on the thought of such diverse sources as Emerson, Nietzsche, Vaclav Havel, and the Oglala Sioux to build his carefully argued case for an acceptance of reality and a love of life that essentially overcomes even the experience of life's transgressive and anarchic aspects. To be embedded in the world is to live in all of life's reality, that which we would choose and that which we would not choose. Ultimately we must "dare death, defy death, live each moment as if it were one's last, and so forth. This is as if to really love life one would have to seek death (or rather, simulate death) by skydiving or bungee jumping or whatever. But this is a perfectly comprehensible response to a love of life so intense that it can no longer risk life, for fear of death" (176). Only in this way, he would argue, can we move into and beyond acceptance." In facing the death of someone one loves, he says, the proper response is not immediate acceptance." What I am suggesting, rather, is that being overwhelmed by rage and sadness displays our utter embeddedness in the real , and this can lead finally into and beyond acceptance" (176). As to how one can think ethically within the boundaries of a philosophy of radical acceptance of reality, Sartwell quotes Nietzsche's line, "Whatever is done from love always occurs beyond good and evil," and adds, "If that is an ethics, then I guess it is my ethics, though I am very far from being able to put it into operation." As is so, surely, with all of us. Sartwell goes on:
I want to love the world for being real and to love the people in the world for being real and to love the earth for being real. I want to love them while judging them insufficient, for I cannot help but judge them insufficient. I want to love them and also rage against them: They have the perfect opacity and the recalcitrance to will that enrages me constantly against them. (75)
Thus, it seems clear, Sartwell's acceptance of life as it is doesn't mean letting others off the hook for their bad behavior. Likewise, Stephen Diamond argues for the necessity of holding ourselves and others responsible. He criticizes "our misdirected national mental health policies," contending that psychology and psychiatry have been "guilty of allowing individual responsibility for one's behavior to be slowly eroded, to the point that we no longer - legally or morally - hold the adult person fully responsible for his or her actions. But, reversing the pathological trend of anger, rage, and violence is primarily the responsibility of the individual" (301). Diamond argues for the use of existential depth psychology as the most promising approach to dealing with daimonic tendencies in individuals and society. While there can be "mitigating factors" in considering the disposition of cases of violent criminals, it is, Diamond argues, often wrong to excuse individuals for their wrongdoing. The tendency in society that Diamond decries is due precisely to a lack of appreciation for the daimonic. He writes:
The daimonic myth is a psychological and philosophical signpost, pointing in a particular direction, and provoking from us some personal decision. Like symbols and myths in general, it is both regressive and progressive at the same time, which is what makes the model of the daimonic so dynamically controversial and powerfully healing. (310)
Even as our country is being "ravaged by the destructive side of the daimonic," we are called not to suppress the daimonic but rather to "work toward the redemption of our anger and rage in any constructive ways we can." The choice, Diamond contends, is this: "To learn to creatively live with the daimonic or be violently devoured by it." These two books bear reading and rereading and, I feel certain, will continue to reward readers who wish to think deeply and who are willing to have their most deeply felt ideas challenged at nearly every turn.

-WILLIAM METZGER

Autumn 1997

God Is a Verb: Kabbalah and the Practice of Mystical Buddhism, by Rabbi David Cooper. New York: Riverhead Books, 1997. Hardcover, xvii +352 pages.
The teachings of Jewish mysticism known as kabbalah were traditionally available only to married men of at least forty years of age who had lived as observant Jews and were well-versed in the study of Torah and Talmud. The idea of making the teachings of kabbalah openly available to any and all is a fairly recent phenomenon , considered heretical by some, particularly in the Orthodox Jewish world. Rabbi David Cooper is the latest to risk incur ring the wrath of these few in God Is a Verb. Cooper, a former high-powered political consultant in Washington D.C., was raised in a secular environment and began his spiritual search with the exploration of Eastern religions and practices. At age 41, he decided to delve into the Jewish tradition of his birth and moved to the Old City of Jerusalem, where he studied intensely for nearly a decade. He was eventually given smicha-rabbinical ordination-by his chief mentor, Reb Zalman Schacter-Shalomi, the well -known pioneer and Rebbe of the Jewish Renewal Movement. Unique to Cooper's approach to Judaism is the contemplative dimension. Through his earlier affinity for meditative practices in other traditions, he eventually came to understand that the meditative point of view was the missing ingredient in most prior attempts to teach kabbalah. What is often presented as a theoretical, intellectual, and ultimately impractical study of merely esoteric ideas, becomes in God Is a Verb a living encounter with the nature of being and, indeed, consciousness itself. In bringing deep meditation practice to Jewish teachings, Cooper has essentially spawned something unprecedented, at least in modern times: Contemplative Judaism. A common complaint among religious Jews concerns the great number of young Jewish people who turn to other traditions for spiritual nourishment. And inevitably the response is that "mainstream Judaism does not offer what I'm looking for," namely true spiritual sustenance and awakening. A religion cannot persist on gefilte fish and Hanukkah menorahs alone; and in post Holocaust Judaism, the ecstatic wisdom teachings of the Jewish sages and mystics have indeed been painfully obscured. The late Rebbe Shlomo Carlebach once said that just as the Jewish high priests are rendered impure and cannot perform their duties if they come into contact with death, likewise the post-Holocaust rebbes and Jewish teachers were essentially tainted and defiled by having come into contact with the death of six million, and could not possibly offer a teaching of joy and faith. Therefore, Jews should be grateful to the teachers of the East, untainted by such despair, who came to teach young Jews. God Is a Verb provides a much-needed glimpse into an all-but-forgotten Jewish/ kabbalistic worldview that speaks directly to the yearnings of the spiritual seeker in a way that is very much alive, and Cooper's work as writer/rebbe/retreat leader is a haven for a new generation of Jewish seekers who just may find what they need in their own tradition. The scope of the book is enormous. Chapter headings include "The Nature of God," "Fate and Miracles," "Angels and Demons," "Good and Evil," "Dying and Fear," "Reincarnation," and more. But the title itself contains perhaps the essential teaching of the book: that God is not an object, a thing, or even a Being per se, but rather an ongoing activity, a process of "godding," interdependent with the process of "creationing" (and, say, "David Coopering")- a "verb" that is everywhere present, occurring in the moment-by-moment dance and do-si-do of all beings, all the time, moving in relationship. This is not particularly meaningful if only grasped intellectually; rather, it must be directly intuited through the contemplative experience, and Cooper provides ample guidance and experiential exercises toward that end. The consequence of such an idea, when made real through meditation, is ultimate personal responsibility: the kabbalist sees each of us as being in actual partnership with the divine, co-creating evolution itself through every breath we take, every move we make. From this point of view, when I move my pinkie, I literally move the whole universe along with it, an idea the physicists have described as the "butterfly effect" of modern chaos theory: everything everywhere being interconnected, a butterfly flapping its wings in Japan can cause a tidal wave across the globe. Should one really grasp the literalness of this notion, one would be awestruck, plunged into the mysteries of the mystic al life, in which everything is meaningful and every act matters. What distinguishes David Cooper from most rabbis and teachers of kabbalah is that he carries the insight and wisdom of someone who has spent days, weeks, and even month s at a time sitting alone in silent meditation, rising at two or three each morning and continuing until ten or eleven at night. Extended personal retreat in solitude is, in fact, his primary spiritual practice, as documented in previous works, Entering the Sacred Mountain , a spiritual autobiography, and Renewing Your Soul, a guidebook for conducting personal retreats. Two earlier works, Silence, Simplicity, and Solitude and The Heart of Stillness, provided an overview of mystical traditions and spiritual practices. Cooper teaches a kabbalah that is not merely another explanation of the ten sephirot and the four worlds, alongside a diagram of the Tree of Life, but rather a kabbalah that is a moment-by-moment way of living, being, and seeing. This is the kabbalah of conscious awareness, mindful living in partnership with the Divine, and not least of all, ecstatic absorption in the mystery of existence. God Is a Verb charts this terrain with an immediacy that invites the reader not so much to learn about kabbalah, but rather to continue the great process of spiritual awakening to become a true kabbalist, one who is ever-mindful and mystified by the presence of the divine.

-ELIEZER SOBEL

Winter 1997

The Metaphysics of Star Trek. by Richard Hanley New York: Harper-Collins, Basic Books, 1997.Hardcover, 253pages.
Clearly inspired by Lawrence Krauss's popular The Physics of Star Trek, Richard Hanley, a philosophy professor at Monash University in Australia, takes the intellectual dissect ion of this modern Odyssey a step further to look at it 'from the perspective of his discipline . Readers expecting a discussion of the really big metaphysical questions-the nature of space, reality, and even God in the Star Trek universe-may, however, be a little disappointed. Hanley generally contents himself with sometimes rather technical questions of language and logic raised by such phenomena as android robots (arc they really conscious and living?), the transporter room (can personal identity be de constructed and put back together again?), and time travel (is it truly possible to overcome its paradoxes?). T he upside is that students and aficionados of philosophy who are also Trekkies (Trekkers!) will find the book a painless way to come to terms with how philosophers think, and others of all intellectual stripes will enjoy the discussion of the in favorite episodes in the original series, The Second Generation , Deep Space Nine, and Voyagers on a new level. The epilogue, a short , inspiring, and Star Trek-inspired essay on science, philosophy, and the future is well worth the pr ice of the book. Richard Hanley has gone where no philosopher has gone before, and it's well worth it to beam up and mind -meld with him for a stardate or two.

-ROBERT ELLWOOD

Winter 1997

Cumulative Index to Lucifer, Volumes I-XX, Comp, Ted G, Davy, Edmonton, Alberta, T6E 5G4 Canada: Edmonton Theosophical Society, P O, Box 4587, 1997, Pp iv+224, Cloth.
Theosophy is both progressive and traditional. As modern Theosophy, its expression must be adapted to each generation so that its timeless truths can be communicated in current idiom; yet the writings of the first generation of modern Theosophists have a special claim on our attention as foundational. The Edmonton (Alberta, Canada) Theosophical Society has long had a program of making available important early works. Their latest publication is a Cumulative Index to volumes 1-20 (September 1887 to August 1897) of Lucifer: A Theosophical Magazine, founded and edited during her lifetime by I--l. P. Blavatsky and afterwards by Annie Besant with the assistance during the last years of the magazine of CJ. R. S. Mead. This index has been prepared by Ted G. Davy with the care and skill of all his work. Its publication in 1997 marks the one-hundredth anniversary of the end of the magazine, or at least the end of its publication under the tide Lucifer; the magazine continued under the title The Theosophical Review. This index is a splendid contribution to Theosophical scholarship and an invaluable aid for students of the early writings. The main index (pages 1-164) presents the contents of the ten years of Lucifer by authors' names, subjects, and keywords. There are helpful cross-references for both subjects (Phenomena: see Natural Phenomena, Psychic Phenomena, Occult Phenomena, Unexplained Phenomena) and authors' names, both pseudonyms ("Philanthropos" see Blavatsky, H. Po) and initialisms (A. see Glass, A. M.) when the authors can. be identified. As sonic indication of what can be found in this index, the entry for "Olcott, Henry .s. (1832-1907)" includes 145 references to him, followed by 21 entries for items written by him and several that he and HPB cosigned That is the pattern for persons: first references to them are indexed, then contributions authored by them. The volume ends with several appendixes. One indexes book reviews first by the authors of the books and second by the book titles. The reviewers arc included in the main index. Another index lists the titles of journals and of pamphlets and book mentioned in the pages of Lucifer as having been received. A third appendix indexes by geographical locations and organizations Theosophical activities around the world, as reported in Lucifer. This index is an invaluable guide to information about the history of the Society and the intellectual currents of early Theosophy. It also serves for fascinating browsing as, for example, one comes upon an article by the Anglo-Irish poet William Butler Yeats and a notice of his lecturing at the Dublin Lodge. All Theosophical students are deeply indebted to Ted Davy for preparing this index and to the Edmonton Theosophical Society for publishing it.

-John Algeo

January 1998

African Exodus: The Origins of Modern Humanity, by Christopher Stringer and Robin McKie, New York: Henry Holt, 1996, Hardback, xxii+282 pages.
Eco Homo: How the Human Being Emerged from the Cataclysmic History of the Earth, by Noel T. Boaz. New York: Basic Books/HarperCollins, 1997, Hardback, x +278 pages.
The Symbolic Species: The Co-Evolution of Language and the Brain, by Terrence W. Deacon New York: Norton, 1997, Hardback, 527 pages.
"Mommy, where did I come from?" Though later asked in mere sophisticated forms, that question of childhood is also a perennial question of our adulthood. We want to know where we, as individuals, as a social group, and as a species came from. Three recent books address the question of our origin as a species from three viewpoints: biological, ecological, and mental. The biological origin of modern human beings has been accounted for by two theories. One holds that our earlier hominid ancestors spread over much of the world's surface and in various locations independently evolved into present-day humanity but that because of interbreeding, we have been becoming increasingly more alike. It is called the "multiregionalist" theory. The other holds that an earlier variety of the human genus evolved into our kind (Homo sapiens) in Africa and thence spread all over the globe, replacing other hominid species and that present-day differences among us are the result of evolutionary differentiation. It is called the "replacement" or more specifically the "Out of Africa" theory. Recent analysis of the DNA or genetic code in human beings has shown that, although there are relatively great variations in DNA among groups of Africans, human beings outside of Africa are remarkably uniform, having only very slight variations among themselves and sharing their DNA pattern with some Africans. Since variation in the DNA is the result of mutations overtime, the most probable explanation of this surprising fact is that the human genus began in Africa, where it had a long evolutionary history and about 200,000 years ago developed into Homo sapiens, which later spread from Africa to the rest of the world. Such is the thesis of African Exodus, which dates the exodus from Africa about 100,000 years ago, allowing some 100,000 years in Africa for DNA diversification before the exodus began. The book argues its thesis passionately and with revolutionary self-consciousness as a refutation of the multi-regionalist view, thereby refuting the romantic notion that science is a gradual, accumulative approach to ultimate truth. The book is also self-consciously a political statement, arguing against the thesis of The Bell Curve, by Richard Herrnstein and Charles Murray, that intelligence is determined by race, with some races being genetically more intelligent than others. Science, far from being politically neutral, is often done in the service of some social agenda. One of the interesting features of African Exodus is its emphasis on the unity of our contemporary human species. The differences among us are trivial; we are one people. African Exodus makes that point strongly with respect to our genetic inheritance. Eco Homo basically supports the "Out of Africa" theory, although it presumes a slightly earlier beginning for the exodus of Homo sapiens "Africa is our ancestral homeland, and even today it still contains a stunning three-fifths to four-fifths of all human genetic diversity" (14). While agreeing with the date for the origin of Homo sapiens of 200,000 years ago, Eco Homo places the exodus earlier, between 130,000 and 175,000 years ago. The characteristic feature of Eco Homo, however, is its attempt to connect the major stages of our biological evolution with changes in the eco logy: land formation, climate, weather patterns, flora and fauna distribution, and so on. It depicts human evolution, not as something independent of the rest of the planet, but as intimately connected with- influenced by and in more recent times increasingly influencing-the environment. Not only are we a unified species, but also we are unified and interdependent with the whole ecology of the planet. Both books comment on, without explaining, a curious fact. About 20,000 years ago was one of those axial periods of human history when striking changes occur: "There is nothing in the paleontological record of the evolving human body that rivals the rapidity with which Homo sapiens began to evince advanced 'out-of-body' culture- cave art, music, burial of the dead, clothing, personal ornamentation, diverse tools, and so on....If one is drawn to dramatic 'hiccups' in the history of life on this planet, this certainly ranks near the top" (Eco Homo 217). In brief, human culture -our language, marriage and kinship systems, myths, magic, art, social mores and folkways, indeed everything from ethics to etiquette that obviously differentiates our behavior from that of nonhuman animals - began to appear at that time. Eco Homo also stresses the remarkable fact of human behavior that we call "altruism" and relates it to that budding of culture 20,000 years ago. Altruistic behavior is evoked from the members of a cultural group "when two social conditions are met: There must be a vital need or threat to the group and there must be a strong sense of solidarity with in the group" (227). Altruism is thus a product of the evolution of cultural behavior and has survival value for the community. It has also, to be sure, its dark side: ethnic chauvinism and racism. One of the great teachers of another axial period in human history, the Master Kung (or Confucius, as we usually call him), had a prescription for that undesirable side effect. He said that we begin with group solidarity within the family, but extend it progressively to the community, the state, the nation, and ultimately all humanity. The building of a world culture that synthesizes and transmutes local distinctions into a universal brotherhood of humanity is the cure for our social ills. The Symbolic Species looks at the nature and evolution of language and the human brain and finds in their co-development the key to our modern humanity: "The doorway into this virtual world [of uniquely human abstractions, impossibilities, and paradoxes] was opened to us alone by the evolution of language, because language is not merely a mode of communication, it is also the outward expression of an unusual mode of thought -symbolic representation....Biologically, we are just another ape. Mentally, we are a new phylum of organisms"(22-3). "Symbolic" is being used here in a sense given to the term by Charles Sanders Peirce, who classified "signs" (things that stand for other things) into three types: "icons," which are pictures of what they stand for, such as portraits; "indexes," which are causally connected with the things they stand for, as the position of a weathervane stands for a direction of the wind; and "symbols," which stand for something by social convent ion, as a wedding ring stands for the marital agreement or the letter "c" stands for a particular sound in words (70-1). In fact, the Peircean symbol is really of two kinds. In one, a symbol is connected with what it stands for quite arbitrarily, as the letter "c'' is connected with the sound "cc." In the other, a symbol is connected with what it stands for metaphorically or analogically, as a wedding ring is connected with the marital agreement by its shape (being an endless circle), its material (being of precious metal), and so on. The analogical symbol is far richer than the arbitrary one, and is the basis of much distinctively human life. The Symbolic Species also points out that ritual is intimately connected with language and other symbolic systems and thus with our essential humanity: