CHAPTER
FOUR
The first three chapters of this doctoral project have provided elements
of the Alberionian Christological tradition which refers to Christ as Master,
Way, Truth and Life, as well as of some Asian spiritual master traditions in
Hinduism and Buddhism, with a view to indicating contact points for dialogue
between these two traditions, that is, the Alberionian and the Asian
traditions.[a] The dialogue has a formative intention: to
foster in Asian formands of the Daughters of St. Paul the inculturation and
assimilation of the Congregation’s spirituality centered on Christ as Master,
Way, Truth and Life.
The doctoral project utilizes an organizing principle for the selection
of those elements on which to construct the formative dialogue. That key principle is power, intrinsic to the figure of a spiritual master in any
tradition. It reveals the similarities between the traditions of
master under consideration, functioning as an integrating thread that allows
for intercultural and interreligious connections. By this the Asian formand is helped to see that the
Christological spirituality she is asked to assume as a Daughter of St. Paul is
relevant to the religious and cultural traditions in which her life has been
embedded and shaped.
At the same time, the perspective of power brings to light basic differences
in the two traditions. Ultimately, these differences point to radically diverse
world views, as well as philosophical and theological foundational principles
which may well be irreconcilable. The challenge is not to allow the dialogue to
come to a halt at this point, but to explore these differences with openness,
sensitivity and respect. Further
exploration will permit a more enlightened understanding of one’s chosen belief
system with its traditions, and an increased ability to share its riches with
others. At the same time, one grows in
the understanding and appreciation of the riches that are present in the other
traditions, which have shaped the Asian formand’s personal experience of the
Sacred in a predominantly non-Christian culture[b]
and are still formatively active in one’s life.
Making use of power as the perspective by
which to compare and contrast the Asian with the Alberionian (and therefore
Christian) traditions of the spiritual master will require a clarification of
what power means and what are the ways it is practiced and experienced.
There is need first of all to distinguish between power and authority. These
terms are often used as synonyms for each other. However, Webster’s Dictionary[1]
defines power as “an ability to do, a capacity to act,” with the connotation of force, vigor, strength,
while authority is “the power or a right to command, act,
enforce obedience, or make final decisions” and further, “the power derived from opinion, respect, or esteem; influence of character or
office” (emphasis added).
Power is inherent in a person’s being;
authority on the other hand is conferred on the person and is largely dependent
upon cultural and societal legitimization, even in cases where such
legitimization is obtained by force.
Having been given or having seized authority, a person acquires the
power to impose his will on others. On
the other hand, having a particular power—in the sense of capacity or
ability—invests a person with authority, but that authority is effectively
exercised only to the extent that it is acknowledged by others.
A person may have both power and authority,
but the two need not be linked. When
the infuriated Pharisees confronted Jesus after the casting out of the sellers
from the Temple, they demanded to know by what authority he did such things;
there was no question about his power to do so (Mt 21: 12-17, 23:27). When a formator is appointed by legitimate
superiors to carry out the training of a group of formands, this is no
guarantee that she possesses the
intrinsic power to carry out her task effectively.
Max Weber[2] proposes three
types of authority, according to its source. There is legal or juridical authority, with roots in the
rational; there is traditional authority, which springs from tradition;
and there is charismatic authority, which Weber defines thus:
The term ‘charisma’ will be applied to a
certain quality of an individual personality by virtue of which he is considered
extraordinary and treated
as endowed with supernatural, superhuman, or at least specifically
exceptional powers or qualities. These
as such are not accessible
to the ordinary person, but are regarded as of divine origin or as
exemplary, and on the basis of them the individual concerned is treated
as a ‘leader’ (Vol. I, 241).
Charisma is self-determined and sets its own
limits. Its bearer seizes the task for
which he is destined and demands that others obey and follow him by virtue of
his mission. If those to whom he feels
sent do not recognize him, his claim collapses; if they recognize it, he is their master as long as he ‘proves’ himself (Vol.
III, 1112-13; emphasis added).
The interplay between power and authority is
evident in these passages. And the
comcepts expressed are readily applicable to the spiritual master of any
tradition. The very title “master” (guru, rabbi, etc.) etymologically
means “weighty” or “my great one.”[c] Charismatic power is particularly applicable
to the Eastern master, who is not appointed to his task by any earthly
authority. The same holds for Christ as
Master, whose authority comes from the Father.
A characteristic common to both power and
authority is that they are intrinsically relational. Moreover, the relationship ideally develops
along the lines of human transformation,
according to Anthony Giddens who defines power as “the transformative capacity of human action.”[3] Transformation is what the spiritual master
in any tradition intends his followers to achieve, helped by his power and
authority over them. The highest kind of transformation is aimed at, that is,
spiritual transformation of the whole person who is thus brought to
fulfillment, perfection, bliss.
The
patterns of power and authority are those of dominion and ascendancy on the part of the master, and obedience and submission on the part of
the disciple. The relationship involved
between the holder of power and authority, and those subject to him and called
to be obedient to his guidance is based on inequality
of status and functions. This is
common to the traditions of spiritual master that are being examined in this
study. “Disciple is not superior to teacher,” says Jesus (cf Lk 6: 40), and in
the Asian tradition, when the disciple achieves enlightenment and becomes a
master in his own right, the former master-disciple relationship
dissolves.
The
justification for the hierarchical structure by which the master is superior to
the disciple is the master’s higher knowledge and experience of the true path
to fullness of life, whatever names the specific traditions may use to describe
it: enlightenment, awakening, liberation, perfection, holiness, Nirvana, the
kingdom of heaven. This makes him more than a mere teacher: he is
“teacher-initiator-savior”[4]
or, in Alberionian Christology, he is “Way, Truth, Life”—implying the totality
of his impact upon the disciple.
To follow him, the disciple leaves home and
renounces possessions, position, work, other relationships—all that has been
part of his life up to that point. The
ways Jesus Master called followers to himself and his demands upon those who
aspired to be his disciples, are similar to the ways that disciples are drawn
to the Asian master and their acceptance of the renunciations and disciplines
required to follow him.
“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the message of eternal life, and we
believe; we have come to know that you are the Holy One of God,” says Peter to
Jesus (Jn 6: 68-69). To the rich young
man who wants to be his follower, Jesus says: “Go and sell what you own
and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven;
then come, follow me” (Mk 10: 21). At
another time Jesus said, “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him
renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Mk 8: 34). To a disciple who asked leave to bury his
father, Jesus answers “Follow me, and leave the dead to bury their dead” (Mt 8:
22).
In exploring the demands of following a
master in the Asian tradition, two passages from an Asian master, Patrul
Rinpoche,[5]
will suffice to give an idea of the submission involved:
A courageous disciple, armoured with the
determination never to displease his teacher even at the cost of his life, so
stable-minded that
he is never shaken by immediate circumstances, who serves his teacher
without caring about his own health or survival and obeys his every
command without sparing himself at all—such a person will be liberated
simply through his devotion to the teacher.
Be skilled in never displeasing the teacher,
And never resent his rebukes,
like the perfect horse.
Never be tired of coming and going, like a
boat.
Bear whatever comes, good or bad, like a
bridge,
Endure heat, cold and whatever else, like an
anvil.
Obey his every order, like a servant.
Cast off all pride, like a sweeper,
And be free of arrogance, like a bull with
broken horns.
This… is how to follow the teacher.
Such
absolute power and authority of the master over the disciple has, ideally, a
benevolent intention, a transformative goal, as Giddens indicates. Power is not for the self-aggrandizement of
the master but for the gradual empowerment of the disciple. This empowerment is accomplished through the
formative interaction between master and disciple. Their relationship unfolds in their day-to-day shared life,
fostered by structures that facilitate the transmission of wisdom through
teachings by word and example on which the disciple meditates. It also progresses through the practice of
ascetical disciplines and practices that gradually complete the detachment and
purification from hindrances to perfection, and the honing of skills that
cultivate and nourish the transformed life.
As
an ideal of this benevolent, unselfish use of authoritative power and
superiority, Buddhism holds up the figure of the bodhisattva, who although he has achieved enlightenment, makes a
vow not to enter definitively into Nirvana, because of his compassion for his
fellow human beings who have not yet attained their spiritual breakthrough.
Hinduism speaks of the guru as kalyana-mitta, spiritual friend, who
manifests all the qualities of care, tenderness, love toward the other that
characterize friendship. The ideal
qualities of the Asian spiritual master that have been enumerated earlier (cf Chapter
Two, p. 59) bear out this other-centered use of power and authority. With regard to Jesus as Master, Chapter One
has presented the Alberionian insight into someone who indeed is Master, but
one with the heart of a Shepherd; this fact brings into the very concept of
“masterhood” the qualities of constant care and nurturance of the sheep, with
which he establishes a bond that makes him put his life at their service, even
to the point of giving his life for them.
Though the shepherd is by nature superior to the sheep, his attitude of
service to the sheep goes beyond that superiority. And the concept of the master-friend also enters into Jesus’
relationship with his disciples; this will be developed further below.
In spite of the ideal sketched out in the preceding section, power can
also be exercised deformatively,
especially when it is imposed, when ascendancy and dominion become control and
domination of others. Whatever authority such a power is invested with becomes authoritarianism, and the
interaction between leader and follower is defined by structures of conquest
and subjugation, of manipulation and enslavement.
On this topic, one finds an interesting analysis written by Joel Kramer
and Diana Alstad regarding the dehumanizing effect of power when it is
practiced in an authoritarian mode. It
is relevant to this study because the authors choose the guru-disciple relationship as the prime exemplar of
authoritarianism; in fact, the title of their book is The Guru Papers: Masks of Authoritarian Power.[6] The authors explain why they consider
the guru-disciple relationship as
“the primary vehicle in deciphering authoritarian power:”
We
focus on the relationship between guru and disciple because it displays the
epitome of surrender to a living person, and thus clearly exhibits what it
means to trust another more than oneself. [7]
The traditional framework between guru and
disciple is as absolute in authoritarian demands (total surrender and
obedience) as any on the planet. By unambiguously exhibiting the mechanisms of
control and surrender, it offers a quintessential example of mental
authoritarianism, whose power lies in controlling minds rather than in overt
physical coercion. Our intention in
using this relationship as an exemplar is to show the seductions, predictable
patterns, and corruptions contained in any essentially authoritarian form. Though extreme, the guru model illustrates
well the workings of authoritarian power that occur less overtly in many other
relationships and contexts. Its
relatively simplistic structure, combined with very sophisticated
justifications, displays the dynamics of authoritarianism writ large.[8]
The problem, according to the authors, does
not lie so much on the level of individual gurus
who abuse their power, but in the very structures of the guru-disciple relationship, which are of their nature tainted with
the dynamics of control and manipulation.
Although gurus are already tainted with
corruption in the minds of many, this is ordinarily seen as the failing of
individuals. Instead we wish to show
that the abuses of power that occur in such contexts are structural rather than personal. … The papers on gurus and cults depict in concrete terms the
mechanisms, rewards, disguised collusions, and dangers of surrendering to those
who position themselves as knowing what’s best for others. Decoding the
dynamics of manipulation can help people avoid such traps[9]
(emphasis added).
The corruption of power especially in the
guru-disciple relationship is inevitable, according to Kramer and Alstad. The reason is that no matter how benevolent
in reality a particular master is toward the disciple, their relationship rests
on the fundamental inequality between them structured on the paradigm of
superiority (master) and inferiority (disciple). Inequality leads to domination. This inequality is then justified
and maintained by supporting ideologies, some of them extremely subtle, which
prey on the fears and needs of the immature person—for instance, his need to be
dependent, his fear to take responsibility for his own life. Even more, these ideologies touch the
spiritual needs of the human person, and are therefore more difficult to
unmask.
What is epitomized in the guru-disciple relationship is present in
many other forms and their attendant ideologies. Kramer and Alstad do not bother to analyze the secular—political,
social, cultural—forms of corrupt power, which are readily identifiable. They focus on the corruption of spiritual
power as more insidious; the ideologies that justify this are largely
impregnable to attack, precisely because they concern the highest spiritual
ideals of humanity.
What are some of these spiritual
idealogies, according to Kramer and Alstad? Listed among the most pernicious
masks of authoritarianism are renunciate moralities that advocate
self-sacrifice, forgiveness, mysticism and the ideal of oneness with the
Divine. The underlying spiritual
principle of all these ideologies is unconditional love and selflessness,
presented as normative for the happiness of human beings; Kramer and Alstad
seriously question this principle.
Their skepticism extends to the use of this perspective as a way to
grasp the very nature of God himself—if one accepts God (the impression given
is that belief in a Divine Power is the most dangerous delusion of all).
Certain expressions of corrupt power and
authoritarianism are rooted in these religious ideologies. Some of the more serious and destructive
expressions are: fundamentalism, satanism, addiction, cults.
It is clear that power and authority can be and have been easily abused,
to the detriment of human growth and fulfillment. And even the most sacred realities can be twisted to serve the
ends of domination and oppression. The
authors’ painstaking and uncompromising efforts to show this deformation may be
salutary in the sense that they invite to a profound re-viewing of the
realities in question and to an expanded awareness of their abuse. The
unmasking of these forms of control is vital to planetary survival at this
point of human history.
What is obviously deficient in the analysis is that it is weighted
heavily, even exclusively, on the side of the negative structures and
exploitation of power and authority.
And the only way to handle these, it seems, is to unmask the evil,
reject it and uproot it. However, the
question must then be asked: what is to take its place?
Kramer and Alstad would have done better if
they had proposed another paradigm of power which is more positive, which
promotes human development and growth toward fulfillment. It may not be new, but that paradigm has to
be recognized as operative in history, and in personal experience on the
intrapersonal and interpersonal levels.
Sometimes this different, positive way of viewing and practicing
power—with its attendant structures and praxis—has been able to penetrate
authoritarian structures that seemed impregnable and to erupt between the
cracks, as it were, to challenge the forces of dehumanizing power.
The search for an alternative, transformative paradigm of power must dig deeper than the structural level, and examine the workings of the human heart in which are rooted both the good and the evil tendencies that shape individual lives and human history. Authoritarianism is an expression of the fatal tendency in the human heart to domination and control. Kramer and Alstad admit this when they define their purpose for writing their book:
This book examines the workings of
authoritarian power, including its
deep roots in the human psyche. Though
critical of authoritarianism,
we do not suggest it is possible to eliminate authority, hierarchy or power
from human interaction. History
notwithstanding, we maintain their utilization need not necessarily be
authoritarian.[10]
The authors also admit: “The corruptions of
power occur when maintaining power becomes central and more important than its
effects on others.”[11] Unfortunately, the authors do not develop
the implications of these statements.
Perhaps
the authors should have considered the possibility that it is precisely in the
spiritual ideologies that underpin the guru-disciple
relationship[d] and which
Kramer and Alstad have anathemized as hopelessly corrupt, that the basis and
elements for a different paradigm of power can be drawn. This seems a provocative and paradoxical
statement to make, but its validity is worth exploring.
Aspects of an Alternate Paradigm of Power:
In this exploration two presuppositions are to be accepted from the
outset, both of which are present in the ideal of the guru-disciple relationship.
First, as it has been pointed out earlier, the possibilities for corrupt
power do not spring in first place from corrupting structures, but rather from
the human heart’s tendency to absolutize power. And this absolutization does not aim first of all at the
domination over others, but at the total control over one’s own being and life.
“I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul,” when made
absolute, situates the locus, subject and justification of power in oneself; to
maintain that, the person then finds the need to subjugate others who threaten
his self-mastery. Weber’s definition of
power hints at this: “power,” he says, “is the capacity of an individual to
realize his will, even against the opposition of others.”[12] When brought to extremes, this attitude
views even God as a rival to self-power;
“I will not serve!” is the battle cry, and “I did it my way!” is the
ideal.
Second—and this is related to the first—it
must be accepted that the source of whatever power the person has over himself
and over others does not originate from himself. Power and authority are received and therefore must be used for
the purpose for which they have been given, that is, not only for personal
growth and fulfillment but also for the service and advantage of one’s
fellowmen. Power and authority
ultimately come from God himself, who created human beings, and God’s way of
exercising power is normative for any power holder.
Distortions
in the understanding and applications of these presuppositions can happen in
the guru-disciple relationship. However, the presuppositions exist; they are
not simply a cloak to justify authoritarianism. There are also actual examples of gurus and masters in all traditions who have lived a transformed
existence and brought about that same transformation in others. The bodhisattva
and the kalyana-mitta ideals and
praxis referred to above, and the figure of Christ, “Master with the heart of a shepherd” and the Master who no
longer calls his disciples servants but friends, indicate a power paradigm that
successfully breaks away from the “control and domination” paradigm of
authoritarianism. What is offered is an
authentic lived vision of power that is other-centered, disinterested
self-giving through a service willing to go all the way, even to death, for the
welfare of others.
Both
traditions of spiritual master (Asian and Alberionian) are similar in adhering
to the above presuppositions. Jesus
explicitly taught and ordered his life
and work on precepts that deal with
self-forgetfulness in the service of others; the Sermon on the Mount (Mt 5-7) is normative in this regard, and Church
lists these precepts as the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. The climax of self-giving is reached when
Christ laid down his very life on the cross, as shepherd of the flock and as
friend to his disciples.
In Asian traditions these ideals are also
adhered to. To cite one example, the
Tibetan schools of Buddhism speak of “transcendent generosity” as one of the
six “transcendent perfections” leading to liberation and enlightenment. As P. Rinpoche notes:
Generosity can take three forms: material
giving, giving Dharma and giving protection from fear.
There are three kinds of material giving:
ordinary giving, great giving and exceptionally great giving….
Ordinary giving.
This refers to the giving of anything material, even if it is no more
than a pinch of tea-leaves or a bowl of barley.… Reduce your desires…, learn to
be content with whatever you have….
Great giving. This means to give to others something rare or very
precious to you personally, such as your own horse or elephant, or even
your own son or daughter.
Exceptionally great giving.
This refers to making a gift of your own limbs, body or life. Examples are Prince Great Courage giving his body to a starving
tigress, Nagarjuna giving his head to the son of King Surabhibhadra, and
Princess Mandabhadri also feeding a tigress with her own body. However, this sort of generosity should be
practised only by a being who has attained one of the Bodhisattva levels.…[13]
It is precisely on this point, however, that
differences in the Christian and non-Christian traditions also begin to
surface. This is clearest in the ideal
of the spiritual friend, common to Hindu and Christian traditions, but brought
in the latter tradition to a higher degree which can ultimately demolish the
nature and structures of power and authority as control and domination. The
following analysis is based on Sandra Schneider’s interpretation of Jn 13: 1-20.[14]
Jn
13: 11-20 refers to the incident of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. It symbolizes a service so profound and
radical that it makes possible a real conversion in the conceptualization and
praxis of power. Schneiders writes:
Service
is generally understood quite univocally as something that one person does for
someone else, intending thereby the latter’s good. In service the server lays
aside, temporarily or even permanently, his or her own project, goal, good, or
at least convenience for the sake of fostering the good of the other. The finality of the served, is allowed, at
least for the moment, to take priority
over the finality of the server. In its
most extreme form, therefore, it would consist in the server’s laying down his
life for the sake of the served.
[This] is the ultimate preferring of another’s good to one’s own. Service, in other words, by its inmost
structure, is capable of expressing ultimate love.… Every act of service, however ordinary, because it consists in
preferring another to oneself, is essentially an act of self-gift and,
therefore, an expression of love, which, in principle, tends toward the total
self-gift.[15]
However, Schneiders says—and here Kramer and Alstad would agree—the actual living out of this ideal of service “rarely, if ever, is realized in fact.”[16] Service can be understood as concretely structured according to three models. The first model is based on a fundamental inequality between the server and the served, and the service reinforces that condition. Schneiders continues:
… service denotes what one person (the
server) must do for another (the
served) because of some right or power that the latter is understood
to possess. The server may be bound for
any number of reasons, such
as being a child in relation to parents, a slave in relation to an owner, a
woman in a patriarchal society in relation to men, a subject in relation to a
ruler, a poor person in relation to the rich.
In other words, service in this model is a basic element in a structure
of domination, however benevolently exercised.
It expresses not the free preference of another’s good to one’s own but
the subordination of one person to another.
[And] …the structure of domination tends of its own weight to become
exploitative and oppressive because the service is demanded as the right of the
superior and must be rendered as the unavoidable duty of the inferior.[17]
All that the
above passage says may mark and deform the devoted service that the disciple
renders the master, which partly explains Kramer and Alstad’s stand regarding
the guru-disciple relationship as the prime example of corrupt
power.
A second model brings in the note of service
entered into freely by the server, because he or she perceives some need in the
served which the server can meet.
Examples of this model are: the parent serving the child, the rich
serving the poor, the strong serving the weak, the knowledgeable professional
serving the client. One can add as well
the example of the master meeting the need of the disciple for deeper wisdom,
guidance, inspiration. This model not
only stresses the freedom of the server to serve, but implies also the
compassion, the altruism and the benevolence
that are part of the bodhisattva
tradition. But, says Schneider,
… a deep flaw resides in the heart of this
situation. The basis of the
service is still inequality. The server
is perceived by him- or herself
and by the served as acting, however generously, out of genuine su-
periority to the other, and the service situation lasts only as long as
the server remains superior. This is
why such seemingly altruistic
situations have such an inveterate tendency to corruption.[18]
The parent-child relationship becomes a way of
satisfying some need of the parent, to dominate or to possess the child, or to
use the child to satisfy the need to be needed. The teacher may make use of his students as living proofs of his
excellence or, again, to satisfy his need to exercise power over others. The professional mystifies his client by
keeping him uninformed, to maintain his hold on the person. The master fosters expressions of submission
from his disciples and allows himself to be deified, thus strengthening his
absolute power over them. Schneiders
continues:
The dynamism at work in this second model is
more subtle than in
cases of outright domination (and, needless to say, not all such cases
of service yield to the flaw in the situation), but is no less distant from
the ideal of service. The server seeks
his or her own good by “detouring” through the good of the other.[19]
It is precisely this masked authoritarianism
which Kramer and Alstad want to expose, using the guru-disciple relationship as the prime example of this twisting of
service to maintain a position of inequality, to exercise total control over
the served in the name of spiritual growth.
Kramer and Alstad end their analysis at this point, proposing no way out
of the oppressive situation.
Schneiders, instead, points to a third model of service “operative in
the only situation in which service, of necessity, escapes this fundamental
perversion, namely, friendship.”[20] She insightfully observes:
Friendship is the one human relationship
based on equality. If it does not begin
between equals it quickly abolishes whatever inequality it discovers or renders
the inequality irrelevant within the structure of the relationship. In perfect friendship, which is indeed
rare, the good of each is truly the other’s good and so, in seeking the good of
the friend, one’s own good is achieved.
But this self-fulfillment involves no subversive seeking of self; it is simply
the by-product of the friend’s happiness.
This is why service rendered between friends is never exacted and
creates no debts, demands no return but evokes reciprocity; and never
degenerates into covert exploitation.
Domination is totally foreign to friendship because domination arises
from, expresses, and reinforces inequality.[21]
The vision of the guru as kalyana-mitta is
in line with this ideal; the same is also true of Christ’s definition of his
“masterhood” in terms of friendship, even to the giving up of his life for his
friends, his disciples. But Christ
provides a clearer teaching and living out of this ideal than any other
spiritual master tradition. In so doing,
he holds out the only real alternative to the deformative possibilities of power
and authority, and he does so to a greater degree than any other master,
demonstrating this paradigm not only in his teachings and his example, of which
the foot-washing is a symbol, but above
all in his death on the cross for all humanity.
The
reaction of Peter—as representative of all the other disciples, and of
ourselves—is one of shock and
spontaneous refusal: “Never! … you shall never wash my feet” (Jn 13: 8). All human beings have the control-domination
paradigm of power so deeply engraved in themselves and in their relationships
that they are scandalized and struggle against its subversion by the paradigm
of power as friendship. There is a
paradox at the heart of Christian power, which may be described as “power in
powerlessness,” taking “powerlessness” to signify the rejection of
authoritarian, self-centered control and domination as principle and praxis in
human relationships. It is
powerlessness because in putting the good of the other before one’s own good,
one becomes vulnerable to the other and empowers him, not out of weakness, fear
or immaturity, but out of love.
Schneiders explains this point further:
Jesus symbolizes his impending death, his
love of his disciples unto the
end, by an act of menial service. He
did not choose an act of service
proceeding from his real and acknowledged superiority to them as teacher
[master] and Lord. Such an act would
have expressed the inequality between himself and his disciples, their
inferiority to him. Instead Jesus acted
to abolish the inequality between them, deliberately reversing their social
position and roles. To wash another’s
feet was something that even slaves could not be required to do, but which
disciples might do out of reverence for their master. But any act of service is permissible and freeing among
friends. By washing his disciples’ feet
Jesus overcame by love the inequality that existed by nature between himself
and those whom he had chosen as friends.
He established an intimacy with them that superseded his superiority and
signaled their access to everything that he had received from his Father (see
15:15), even to the glory that he had been given as Son (see 17:22).…
Peter realizes that Jesus, by transcending
the inequality between himself and his disciples and inaugurating between them
the relationship of friendship, is subverting in principle all structures of
domination, and therefore the basis for Peter’s own exercise of power and
authority. The desire for first place
has no function in friendship. [22]
In
his life with the disciples Jesus frequently attempted to wean his disciples
from the control-and-domination pattern of power, which brought them into
competition with one another and into the preoccupation as to who was the
greatest among them. Even at the Last
Supper they fought for the best places at table. The footwashing is an attempt to shock them out of this power
syndrome, which will be definitively proven as deformative, by the still
greater and more profound shock and scandal of the death on the cross, the
actual event of total self-giving of Christ Master-Friend.
In reference to the traditions of spiritual master being examined in this doctoral project within a structure of dialogue and from the perspective of power, it should be pointed out that Christ’s paradigm of power markedly differs in quality and degree from that which other traditions do allow for, but do not develop and exemplify as fully as the Christian tradition does. The first to be shocked and even scandalized are Christians themselves!
Fruitful
dialogue between the spiritual master traditions may be initiated by this
difference regarding the very ideal of power which imbues the figure of the
master. Thangaraj expresses this hope
indirectly when he says regarding Jesus Master’s death on the cross:
No longer was it [the cross] the tragic and
unfortunate death of a guru.
The cross became the supreme and climactic point at which the guru
was seen as being fully himself—the embodiment of what he taught and did. It became a symbol of the guru’s victory
over sin and death.
By his powerlessness on the cross, the
guru gives a fresh and novel understanding of wherein lay true power—the power
of love and self-sacrifice. On the
cross the guru is no longer seen as a mere pointer to the way of liberated
existence, but he himself can now be seen as “the way, the truth and the life.”
There the reign of God is at its fullest manifestation—a reign of love
and justice and of God’s judgment and mercy.
It is no longer the teacher-guru who dominates the scene, but the
victim-guru, the dying guru, the
crucified guru who appears as the guru par excellence.[23]
Schneider’s
interpretation of power using as key the ideal of friendship between Jesus
Master and his disciples sustains Thangaraj’s insight regarding the importance
of the crucified guru as the true master.
If
“power in powerlessness” expressed in friendship is something subversive to the
usual meaning of power applied to the figure of the spiritual master, the central
element in the Christ Master tradition becomes an even deeper source of
scandal. This involves the claim, which
only Christianity makes, that Jesus Christ is the incarnate Son of God, the
Divine made visible in human flesh.
Asian non-Christian religions find this incompatible with their
philosophical and theological world-views.
A crucified Master may be admissible, even admirable, but a crucified
God is folly, a blasphemy and a stumbling-block to belief. Jesus as Master is generally acceptable to
Asian traditions, as long as Christians do not put forward the claim that
Christ Master is the only real Master in so far as he is the unique,
irrepeatable incarnation of God himself.
It is when Christology ends up becoming a statement about God and the
Divine Nature that interreligious dialogue can break down.
An incident is narrated of Edith Stein’s
mother after her daughter’s conversion from Judaism to Christianity—an
incomprehensible event bringing much suffering in its wake. Edith’s mother said, “I don’t want to say
anything against him [Christ]; he may have been a very good man, but why did he make himself God?”[24]
The same reaction is
expressed by adherents of non-Christian Asian religions.
The Hindu traditions readily admit that the
spiritual master’s ultimate source of power lies in his relationship with the
Divine. Saivism looks on the guru as having attained to oneness with
Siva to the point that he can be said to be Siva in human form, which is why he
has power to teach, guide and bring others to liberation. But as indicated in
Chapter Two of this project, the guru’s
union with Siva does not affect the essential Divine Nature which remains out
of reach, ineffable in its omnipotence and bliss, in its perfection. Incarnation in human nature, the assumption
of human frailty and the suffering involved in this have no real place in the
concept of the Divine.
Vaishnavism speaks of the master as being an
avatar, one of the visible
appearances of Vishnu in human form.
But the avatar’s “incarnation” of Vishnu is not what
Christians mean by the incarnation of God in his Son made flesh.
For Buddhism, the whole question of power—at
least in Pure Land Buddhism—is focused on “self-power” and “other-power” which
is ascribed not to a transcendent Being but to Buddha, the one who has preceded
others in realizing perfection and who in compassion assists the practitioner
in his efforts toward holiness.
Thich-Thien-Tam notes:
As far as the question of “self-power” vs. “other power” is concerned,
it is wrong to understand the Pure Land method as exclusive reliance on
the Buddha’s power. The Pure Land
practitioner should use all his own power to rid himself of afflictions,
reciting to the point where his own Mind and the Mind of the Buddha are in unison. From that state, in this very life, the
Buddha will emit rays to silently gather him in [i.e., he is in symbiotic
relationship with the Buddha ], and at his deathbed he will be
welcomed and escorted back to the Pure Land.
The “welcoming and escorting” is really the principal manifestation of
the “other-power.”[25]
The question of the Divine (which for other
religions is central) is not the concern of Buddhism; Buddhists themselves can
affirm that their faith tradition is not really a religion.[e]
Francis Moloney has said that Christology is
in actuality Theology.[26] When Christ as Master is held up as the
incarnate revelation of the true nature of Divine Power, defined in terms of
“power as powerlessness,” revealed in the flesh-taking and above all in the
shameful death on the cross, interreligious dialogue becomes more
challenging. Even for Christian
theology and ordinary believers, a crucified, suffering God is an absurdity.
Perhaps
the dialogue between the traditions at this point, if it is to be at the
service of formation and transformation, must look for other links besides
rationalist philosophy and theology.
Such links will not shy away from the essentially paradoxical nature of
Divine “power in powerlessness” and will explore the question of polarities in
the nature of God as viewed by human eyes.
This is what John Carman attempts to do in his comparative study of
“contrast and harmony in the concept of God,”[27]
which addresses both Christian and non-Christian religions.
That theology, even Christian theology, is
wary and uncomfortable regarding paradox and divine polarities is
understandable. As Carman notes, the
reaction comes from the very nature of theologizing:
Thus theologians’ own desire to show a
consistent pattern, as well as their need to persuade others, leads to as much
emphasis on rational consistency as can be combined with their essential
beliefs. This means not only that
theologians generally deemphasize the paradoxical elements in divine polarities
but also that such polarities themselves, since by definition they are
concerned with contrasts, are accorded as little place as possible in
systematic theology.
The first strategy of the theologian, who is
almost always writing in prose, is to ignore the paradoxical polarities of
poetic description on
the ground … that such description is poetic hyperbole.
A second alternative to paradox is more
systematic: to reinterpret the polarity in terms that remove the paradox and
show that the two contrasting qualities fit together harmoniously in the mind
of God.…
A third alternative is that characteristic
of many mystics: to try to transcend the duality of the two poles in a higher
unity.…
The final alternative is to dissolve the
polarity by rejecting one pole or the other as an unworthy characterization of
God.[28]
Something similar happens in the traditional
presentation of Jesus as Master Way, Truth, Life in Alberionian spirituality,
which is explained in the rational theological terminology of Alberione’s
time. The Founder holds up as exemplar
Paul’s doctrine and way of discipleship; notwithstanding that, inadequate
attention is given by Paulines to this central issue of Christ Master’s power
being made manifest in kenosis, in
God’s power being weakness to human beings.
The usual tendency is to downplay one of the two polarities (power or
powerlessness) or to give a meaning to one or the other which erases the
paradox. Thus, Christ is acknowledged
indeed as supreme teacher, but his wisdom tends to be conceived of in a narrow
sense, which emphasizes the intellectual and rational part of the human
person. As way, model, exemplar, Christ
is imitated along more external lines, or his divinity is underscored at the
expense of his humanity so that he becomes unreachable, or—on the contrary—he
is recast in the image of weak humanity and his divinity recedes into the
background. As Lord of life, Christ’s
power is given the trappings of worldly domination and his followers may tend
to maintain their distance from him, or may even fear rather than love
him.
From a formative viewpoint, which is
concerned with all that facilitates the experience of God for the formand, the
theological stance that underpins the concept of “master” has immense and
essential value; however, it necessarily must be a theologizing that takes into
account the poetic, the mystical, and the cultural dimensions, all of which
allow for more direct, experiential and intuitive ways of mediating the
experience of Divine Power and of the Divine Nature. It may be recalled here that while theology grapples with
difficulties in working out a complete guru
Christology, the hymnic expressions of this reality reveal no such difficulty
(as was noted in Chapter Three). What
Xavier Irudayaraj says in one of his articles regarding guru Christology is worth repeating here:
Our reflection on the Guru focuses, first of all, on the personal approach
of Christ to each man in his own unique history of salvation and thus makes
clear that Christ is unique not only as the universal Saviour of mankind, but
also as he enlightens every man in all his particularity and
individuality. Secondly, it emphasizes
the fact that discipleship is the basis of fellowship in the Church. It suggests certain new structures for the
Church more interpersonal in nature.
In fine, what is the theological
contribution of this study? In contrast
to the metaphysical (two natures and one person: Chalcedon) and functional
(Scholastic) approaches to Christology, the
Guru-tradition inspires a mystical approach to the person of Christ, based on
the experience of his personal love and grace (since Guru is the
transparently divine communicator of grace).
Such an approach would help us to see that the Guru-sisya bond
symbolizes the intimate and immediate relation between Christ and the
faithful. This means that the
individual christian receives revelation not only from men and sacred books,
but also from Christ himself through his indwelling Spirit[29]
(emphasis added).
Two other Asian theologians—Choan-Seng Song
(Taiwan) and Kosuke Koyama (Japan)[30]—provide
this more formative experiential approach to theology and christology, and are
directly concerned with the incarnation and with the cross as revelatory of the
Divine Nature and its kind of power.
In his presentation of these two theologians, Volker Kuster writes:
[For Song] the theology of incarnation and
cross or the paradigm of
creation and redemption and death and
resurrection … fuse together. “The cross shows how a new creation must come
into being through
intense pain and suffering. The whole
being of God aches in Jesus
Christ on the cross. And the God who
suffers is the God who redeems.”
The span of the incarnation holds the life, death and resurrection of Jesus
Christ together. Christology at the same time becomes the hermeneutical key for
the action of the triune God in history.[31]
Koyama explicitly tackles the question of
the cross and power in such writings as No
Handle on the Cross[32]
and “The Crucified Christ Challenges Human Power.”[33] Technology puts handles on things for a more
efficient management and control of their reality; the cross instead has no
handle. It is the locus of God’s
self-emptying and powerlessness in love, his embracing of failure, suffering,
death to bring salvation to humanity.
The disciple of Christ is a cross-bearer like the Master. Paul invites those who would be followers
of Christ to put on the mind of Christ, but that mind is a crucified mind
adhering to the paradox (in a human perspective) of God’s wisdom being
foolishness and God’s power being weakness.
Frequently,
it is said that the Asian mind is more attuned than the Western mind to
paradox, and to intuitive and experiential modes of knowing. The concept of reality as yan and ying, and the Zen koan as a direct, non-logical way to grasp reality, are examples of
this Asian mindset. Understandably, as
has been pointed out above, Christians themselves—particularly Western
Christians with their stress on the logical—are the first ones to be scandalized
at the idea of a guru who subverts
the usual categories of power. This is
even more if this guru is meant to
reveal the nature of God’s power and very being.
Both
Christians and the followers of other faith traditions ultimately have to explore
the paradoxical manifestations of Divine Power and what that would imply in
terms of relationship with such a God.
This will also radically affect the formative relationship between
master and disciple, as well as the interpersonal relationships among the
community of disciples. The Asian affinity for paradox, for intuitive,
experiential and wholistic modes of knowing might be able to contribute to real
growth in the understanding and living out of Alberionian Christology. In
addition, the Scripture-based idea of Christ as Master might challenge Asian
traditions not only in regard to the different vision it offers of the
spiritual master’s power, but also to what it has to say about the nature of
Divine Power itself.
This chapter has attempted to
indicate some ways of bringing into formative dialogue the two traditions of
spiritual master (Alberionian and Asian) from the perspective of power. The concepts and praxis of power and
authority have been briefly analyzed and the analysis from the perspective of
power has brought to light elements of similarity in the two spiritual master
traditions, as well as fundamental differences between them.
A
uniquely different paradigm of power has emerged which seems to be more
elaborated in the Christian tradition. In Christianity, this paradigm of “power
in powerlessness” is built upon friendship, the only structure of human
relationships that of its very nature subverts other relationships inevitably
based on inequality, control and domination.
Obviously, “power in powerlessness” is essentially paradoxical, and it
becomes even more so when it is applied, as in the Christian tradition, to the
nature of Divine Power itself in relation to human beings.
Christ, the crucified guru who reveals the face of God as
self-emptying love is at the center of the spirituality of the Daughters of St.
Paul. Asian traditions of master have
much in common with this “power in powerlessness” spirituality, though fundamental
and apparently irreconcilable differences also exist. What would a formative project be like, that centers upon Christ
as Master, Way Truth and Life in an Asian setting? How will it be radically based on the paradox of the cross? These are the questions that the next
chapter will attempt to explore.
ENDNOTES
1 Webster’s New Twentieth Century Dictionary, 2nd ed.
2 Max Weber, Economy and Society: An Outline of Interpretive Sociology (3 vols: ed. Guenther Roth and Claus Wittich; New York: Bedminster Press, 1968). Passages are quoted in Sandra Hack Polasky, Paul and the Discourse of Power, Gender, Culture, Theory, n. 8, ed. J. Cheryl Exum, The Biblical Seminar, n. 62, ed. Stanley E. Porter & Craig A. Evans (Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press Ltd., 1999), 29.
3 Anthony Giddens, New Rules of Sociological Method: A Positive Critique of Interpretative Sociologies, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2nd ed., 1983), 117. Quoted in Polaski, 36.
4 M. Thomas Thangaraj, The Crucified Guru: An Experiment in Cross-Cultural Christology (Nashville, Tenn.: Abingdon Press, 1994), 58.
5 Patrul Rinpoche, The Words of My Perfect Teacher (Kunzang Lama’l Shelung), trans. Padmakara Translation Group, Second rev. ed., Boston: Shambhala, 1998, 144-145.
6 Joel Kramer and Diana Alstad, The Guru Papers: Masks of Authoritarian Power (Berkeley: Frog, Ltd, 1993.
7 Ibid.
8 Ibid.
9 Ibid.
10 Ibid., 7-8.
11 Ibid., 12.
12 Weber, ibid., Vol. I, p. 224.
13 Patrul Rinpoche, ibid., 234-236.
14 Sandra M. Schneiders, Written That You May Believe: Encountering Jesus in the Fourth Gospel (New York: Crossroad, 1999) 162-174.
15 Ibid., 169-170.
16 Ibid., 170.
17 Ibid.
18 Ibid., 171.
19 Ibid.
20 Ibid.
21 Ibid., 171-172.
22 Ibid., 172-173.
23 Thangaraj, ibid., 101. (Emphasis added)
24 Quoted in John M. Oesterreicher, “Edith Stein, Witness of Love,” in Walls Are Crumbling: Seven Jewish Philosophers Discover Christ (London: Hollis and Carter, 1953), 306.
25 Dharma Master Thich-Thien-Tam, Pure Land Principles and Practice (Singapore: Amitabha Buddhist Society, 1997), 75. Cf also pp. 71, 77, 239, 284.
26 Francis J. Moloney, Story and Spirituality – CBAP Lectures (Catholic Biblical Association of the Philippines) 2001 (Quezon City: CBAP and Loyola School of Theology, 2001), i.
27 John B. Carman, Majesty and Meekness: A Comparative Study of Contrast and Harmony in the Concept of God (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1994).
28 Ibid., 404-405.
29 Xavier Irudayaraj, sj, “The Guru in Hinduism and Christianity,” Vidyajyoti 39 (1975): 350-351.
30 For a brief but enlightening presentation of the lives and work of these two theologians, cf Volker Kuster, “Christology in the Overall Asian Context.” This is Chapter Nine of The Many Faces of Jesus Christ: Intercultural Christology, trans. John Bowden (London: SCM Press, 2001), 118-134.
31 Ibid., 132-133. The portion in quotes is taken from Song’s Third-Eye Theology, Rev. Ed., Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books 1991, n. 15, 70.
32 Kosuke Koyama, No Handle on the Cross: An Asian Meditation on the Crucified Mind (London: SCM Press, 1976).
33 Kosuke Koyama, “The Crucified Christ Challenges Human Power,” in Asian Faces of Jesus, ed. R.S. Sugirtharajah (London: SCM Press, 1993), 149-162.
[a] However, Alberionian Christology is part of the Christian faith tradition and therefore “two traditions” can also refer to the Christian tradition as a whole in dialogue with non-Christian traditions such as Hinduism and Buddhism.
[b] The only exception in this regard are formands from the Philippines, which is a predominantly Christian and Catholic (85%) nation. Instead, a large percentage of formands in Japan and Korea are converts from non-Christian faith traditions, or else, they belong to a small Catholic minority in the midst of a non-Christian population and have much contact with the prevailing culture and religions.
[c] Cf Chapter Two, p.50 of this doctoral project.
[d] This relationship does not only refer to the Hindu expression but to the entire master-disciple relationship in all traditions.
[e] This is repeated in multimedia popularizations of Buddhist teaching, one example of which is an audiocassette tape produced by the Amitabha Buddhist Society of Singapore, entitled A Path to True Happiness” and spoken by the Ven. Chin Kung.
[2] Max Weber, Economy and Society: An Outline of Interpretive Sociology (3 vols: ed. Guenther Roth and Claus Wittich; New York: Bedminster Press, 1968). Passages are quoted in Sandra Hack Polasky, Paul and the Discourse of Power, Gender, Culture, Theory, n. 8, ed. J. Cheryl Exum, The Biblical Seminar, n. 62, ed. Stanley E. Porter & Craig A. Evans (Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press Ltd., 1999), 29.
[3] Anthony Giddens, New Rules of Sociological Method: A Positive Critique of Interpretative Sociologies, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2nd ed., 1983), 117. Quoted in Polaski, 36.
[4] M. Thomas Thangaraj, The Crucified Guru: An Experiment in Cross-Cultural Christology (Nashville, Tenn.: Abingdon Press, 1994), 58.
[5] Patrul Rinpoche, The Words of My Perfect Teacher (Kunzang Lama’l Shelung), trans. Padmakara Translation Group, Second rev. ed., Boston: Shambhala, 1998, 144-145.
[6] Joel Kramer and Diana Alstad, The Guru Papers: Masks of Authoritarian Power (Berkeley: Frog, Ltd, 1993.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Ibid.
[11] Ibid., 12.
[12] Weber, ibid., Vol. I, p. 224.
[13] Patrul Rinpoche, ibid., 234-236.
[14] Sandra M. Schneiders, Written That You May Believe: Encountering Jesus in the Fourth Gospel (New York: Crossroad, 1999) 162-174.
[15] Ibid., 169-170.
[16] Ibid., 170.
[17] Ibid.
[18] Ibid., 171.
[19] Ibid.
[20] Ibid.
[21] Ibid., 171-172.
[22] Ibid., 172-173.
[23] Thangaraj, ibid., 101. (Emphasis added)
[24] Quoted in John M. Oesterreicher, “Edith Stein, Witness of Love,” in Walls Are Crumbling: Seven Jewish Philosophers Discover Christ (London: Hollis and Carter, 1953), 306.
[25] Dharma Master Thich-Thien-Tam, Pure Land Principles and Practice (Singapore: Amitabha Buddhist Society, 1997), 75. Cf also pp. 71, 77, 239, 284.
[26] Francis J. Moloney, Story and Spirituality – CBAP Lectures (Catholic Biblical Association of the Philippines) 2001 (Quezon City: CBAP and Loyola School of Theology, 2001), i.
[27] John B. Carman, Majesty and Meekness: A Comparative Study of Contrast and Harmony in the Concept of God (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1994).
[28] Ibid., 404-405.
[29] Xavier Irudayaraj, sj, “The Guru in Hinduism and Christianity,” Vidyajyoti 39 (1975): 350-351.
[30] For a brief but enlightening presentation of the lives and work of these two theologians, cf Volker Kuster, “Christology in the Overall Asian Context.” This is Chapter Nine of The Many Faces of Jesus Christ: Intercultural Christology, trans. John Bowden (London: SCM Press, 2001), 118-134.
[31] Ibid., 132-133. The portion in quotes is taken from Song’s Third-Eye Theology, Rev. Ed., Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books 1991, n. 15, 70.
[32] Kosuke Koyama, No Handle on the Cross: An Asian Meditation on the Crucified Mind (London: SCM Press, 1976).
[33] Kosuke Koyama, “The Crucified Christ Challenges Human Power,” in Asian Faces of Jesus, ed. R.S. Sugirtharajah (London: SCM Press, 1993), 149-162.