By EDWARD J PARKINSON
Justice—that’s
a big subject that we can never hope to fully understand,
particularly Divine Justice; but we can, I believe, always understand
what we need to understand to make the spiritual progress to which
God calls us at any particular time.
Let’s
begin with some
observations about human reactions to Divine Justice. Certainly the
thought of Divine Justice can lead to great hope, even exhilaration.
Jesus tells us that, when “the Son of Man” shall “execute
judgment” whereby “they that have done good [shall go] unto the
resurrection life and they that have done evil unto the resurrection
of damnation”—on that day, “the dead shall hear the voice of
the Son of God: and they that hear shall live.” This is
inclusive—it states that not only “they who have done good”
shall rise to new life, which esoterically is a higher state of
consciousness and, consequently, of happiness, but even those who
are punished by “the resurrection of damnation.” He also says
that “the dead [apparently all of them] shall hear the voice of Son
of God and they that hear shall live” (John: 5:25—29). The
esoteric meaning of these words, I believe, is that even the most
terrible karmic retributions are executed out of love for those who
must suffer them and are ultimately for their benefit. I believe
that what is esoterically meant by the resurrection of the dead in
this and similar passages is not that corpses will physically come
out of graves, but rather that Divine Justice, even in its
retributive, punitive aspects, leads us out of the “death” of
imprisonment in our small selves to the fullness of understanding,
wherein our true happiness consists. All of that is certainly
positive.
And, of
course, it is also
true that karma , while it can be terrible in its exaction of
retribution, can also be wonderful in the rewards it brings. We all
have many problems, but we also enjoy many blessings—good
relationships, talents, opportunities for service, etc., and these
also are karmic, part of the operation of Divine Justice.
At the
risk, however, of
sounding like an old fuddy-duddy, I’d like to concentrate, in
this article, on some less pleasant aspects of Divine Justice, and,
particularly, on the fear many people experience when they think of
Divine Justice. This fear is real, and it is warranted by scripture.
The Book of Revelation contains much terrifying imagery about
plagues, wars, famines, tyrants, etc.—so much that one biblical
scholar, Rolland Wolfe, who identified twelve religions in the bible,
designated Revelation as “the religion of unspeakable terror”(388). Our
Lord in the gospels speaks of sinners being
thrown into Gehenna, cast into outer darkness with wailing and
gnashing of teeth, consumed like Dives in flames and refused even a
drop of water on the tongue. St. Paul’s words in his Epistle to the
Galations are unsettling in a quieter way, but still unsettling. St.
Paul counsels us that “every man shall bear his own burden”
(6:4). If we reflect honestly we realize that we each have quite a
burden to bear. A country song popular about twenty years ago
contained these lines:
“I was
born an original
sinner; I was born in original sin!
If I had
a dollar bill for
every thing I’ve done
I’d have
a mountain of money piled up to my chin!”
We all
have done many
unedifying things, and people who have had near-death experiences
have sometimes testified that many things we consider small faults
loom very large on the other side—unkind words said in arguments,
for example: these things can assume proportions much larger than
things religious people would be inclined to worry about, such as not
believing this or that or failing to undertake some specifically
religious obligation. We bear our own burden—we have no one
standing in back of us to put the blame on for our misdeeds, and no
excuses, such as the passage of time—the mere fact that something
was done a long time ago does not make it less objectionable in the
eyes of the Eternal Ancient of Days.
This
fear
can lead people into at least three unhealthy directions.
The
first
we might designate the temptation of atheism and philosophical
materialism. Some people seem tenaciously to cling to denial of
spiritual realities and to insist dogmatically in the face of all
counter-arguments that there is no God, no afterlife, no justice, no
purpose to life. These positions seem so incredible for a variety of
reasons and so depressing that we might wonder about the motives of
people who seem determined to adhere to those views. I suspect that
fear of Divine Justice plays no small part. If we grew up with a
certain kind of religious indoctrination, which greatly emphasized
eternal damnation and vividly portrayed its horrors, a philosophy of
materialism and atheism might be seen as very comforting by
comparison. Better no God than the God of Jonathan Edwards; better
no afterlife than one in a lake of fire. But while this type of
philosophy might in some sense be comforting in the short run, its
disadvantages are obvious. It reduces fear, but it offers in its
stead only a dreary hopelessness. It is not conducive to spiritual
evolution because it is fundamentally false. Those who are wrong
about such matters are wrong about the most important things, and,
consequently, their view of everything tends to be skewed.
The
second temptation I
term the temptation of a false Gnosticism. Those of us who are
Gnostics believe that all people are ultimately saved and that God
always loves us, no matter what we do. These beliefs are true, but
they can very easily be simplified and misunderstood. God is never
angry with us in the way in which a vengeful human would reject us,
but God’s love for us has a dark side and one which we should
rightfully fear. God loves us not in a sentimental way which aims at
our ease and pleasure but, rather in a way which aims at our highest
good and with an intensity which no one, even the highest angels, can
understand. God is absolutely determined, with an infinite
determination, to rid us of all that does not reflect His Goodness.
As one of our hymns puts it,
“But
unto wrong what is
His Name?
Our God
is a consuming
flame
To
every wrong beneath the
sun!”
And,
because of that, God’s punishments are terrible, and it is wise to
fear them.
The
third mistake we can
make I would designate the temptation of fundamentalism.
Fundamentalists often assert that God hates and punishes sin but that
Jesus took all the punishment for our sins on Good Friday two
thousands years ago. So now we have nothing to worry about. This is a
very dangerous misunderstanding of some deep esoteric truths about
Jesus and our relationship to Jesus, dangerous because such beliefs
lead to a false sense of security, and that is always dangerous.
Jesus is a Divine Incarnation and an Avatar, the divinely designated
Avatar for those of us on the Christian path. The expiatory
sufferings of such an Avatar can destroy our bad karma—this is the
esoteric meaning of such statements as our sins being washed away by
Christ’s blood or St. Paul’s statement, “He canceled the bond
that stood against us, nailing it to the cross” (Colossians 2: 14).
Being saved by the sufferings of Jesus, however, is not as simple as
many fundamentalists believe. It is not a matter of signing a card
and mailing it to a certain post office box or walking up an aisle
and making a statement at some religious gathering. What is required
is a total merging of our consciousness with that of the Avatar—in
this case, Jesus—so that we become “other Christs.” This is
what Jesus meant when He said, “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord,
Lord,’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven” (Matthew 7:21). Many
people who think they are “saved” are very far from the goal they
think they have attained.
Well,
we’ve looked at three wrong ways of responding to Divine Justice.
Is there a right way? I think so.
First
of all, in regard
to present and future choices, the knowledge of Divine Justice, even
Divine Vengeance, can be a great blessing. It is good to refrain from
dishonesty, cruelty, greed, misuse of substances, destructive
sexuality, etc., and reflection on the karmic consequences of such
things can lead us to refrain from them.
In
regard to things which
we have already done, we can, I think, replace fear with a certain
prudent and realistic hope. Our Lord counsels us to repair to the
best of our abilities the injustices we have already done to others
in order to avoid or at least greatly ameliorate the coming karmic
consequences: “When thou goest with thine adversary to the
magistrate, as thou art in the way, give diligence that thou mayest
be deliverd from him lest [emphasis added] he hail thee to the
judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and the officer
cast thee into prison. I tell thee, thou shalt not depart thence
till thou hast paid the very last mite” ( Luke: 12: 58—59).
Similarly, when informed
about the fate of “the Galileans, whose blood Pilate had mingeled
with their sacrifices,” Jesus counseled other Israelites that the
things they had already done were just as bad as the sins of
those who had suffered those terrible retributions, but that they
could avoid those terrible fates by repenting: “Suppose ye that
these Galileans were sinners above all the Galileans because they
suffered these things? I tell you, Nay: but, except you repent
[emphasis added], you will all perish in the same manner. Or those
eighteen, upon whom the tower in Siloam fell, and slew them, think
ye that they were sinners above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem? I
tell you, Nay: but, except ye repent [emphasis added], ye
shall all likewise perish”(Luke:13: 1—5).
A
plethora of additional
examples could be cited from the New Testament, but in this article
I’m contenting myself with only a few. Jesus states that, if the
people of Sodom and Gomorrah had repented in response to the teaching
of prophets such as had been sent to the Hebrews, their cities “would
have remained until this day”(Matthew:11:23)—in other words, the
karmic retribution of destruction would not have descended upon them.
And, when Jesus cured the paralytic who was let down through a hole
in the roof in the synagogue at Capharnum, he coupled the physical
healing with the words, “Son, thy sins be forgiven thee”(Mark:2:5),
indicating that the physical healing coincided with a reduction of
karmic indebtedness. After healing a man at the pool of Bethsaida,
Jesus the next day clearly indicated that the man’s paralysis had
been karmically induced with his words, “Behold, thou art made
whole: sin no more lest a worse thing come unto thee”(John:5:14).
This
healing ministry of Jesus has been continued through the ages in
Catholic Churches with the Sacrament of Anointing, which is discussed
in the Epistle of St. James. St. James clearly indicates that the
physical and emotional healing properties of this sacrament are tied
to the forgiveness of sins and consequent ameliorative effects on the
karma which such sins have generated: “Is any sick among you? Let
him call for the elders of the church: and let them pray over him,
anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord: And the prayer of
faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up: and if
he have committed sins they shall be forgiven him” [emphasis
added](James:5:14—15). The same epistle directly states that
“mercy rejoiceth against judgment”(2:13), implying that karmic
indebtedness can be forgiven. The Apostle later states, in his
Epistle, that enlightening another can turn the other back from the
road toward severe punishment and in the process lighten the karmic
indebtedness of the one who gives the warnings about such matters:
“Brethren, if any of you do err from the truth, and one convert
him; Let him know, that he which converteth the sinner from the error
of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude
of sins”(5:19-20).
Similarly,
the overwhelming preponderance of the evidence indicates the the
authors of the Old Testament implicitly and unquestioningly assumed
that the “Ten Lost Tribes” would have been spared their fates at
the hands of the Assyrians had they listened to Isaiah and the other
prophets who had been sent to them and that the First Temple would
not have been destroyed if the people of Judah had listened to
Jeremiah. Likewise, the people of Nineveh escaped the bad karma
toward which they were heading when they heeded the words of Jonah
and repented: “And God saw their works, that they turned from their
evil ways, and repented of the evil that he had said that he would
do unto them: and he did it not”[emphasis added](Jonah:3:10).
At this
point a problem
arises, for a fundamental esoteric principle is that all wrongs are
ultimately righted, which means necessarily that all karmic debts
must be paid. Thomistic philosophy holds that God is His
Justice, just as He is His Mercy, Love, Wisdom, etc. because
God’s attributes, including His Justice, are infinite. If God’s
Justice lacked anything God has, it would not be infinite; therefore,
the argument runs, Divine Justice is God in God’s totality. But,
since the same is true of God’s Mercy, Divine Mercy and Divine
Justice are, in the end, identical. Therefore, there can be no
conflict between the two, and Divine Mercy can in no sense cancel
Divine Justice. How then can deserved retributive karmaphala (fruits
of action) be avoided?
It is
important to note, first of all, that the purpose of karmic
retribution is not the infliction of suffering per se, but
rather the realignment of one’s consciousness with the Divine Will.
Analogously, sin is a smudge on the windshield of a car—it
obstructs our vision of God and thus militates against union with
God. Removing the unbalanced state is what is most important; how
it is to be removed is less important. Much karmic indebtedness can
be paid by repentance and service, and, to the extent that such
payments are made, the sufferings caused by such things as car
accidents, serious illnesses, dire poverty, and other such tragedies
become less necessary. Often the suffering entailed by repentance is
sufficient in itself to offset suffering that would otherwise arrive
in the future in the form of deleterious consequences. For example,
many people suffer greatly in the process of giving up noxious habits
such as abuse of alcohol, tobacco, and other drugs, controlling
overactive tempers, or enduring the temporal consequences of their
admissions—perhaps public admissions—of wrongs they have done.
Obviously, for one example, it is better to suffer greatly in the
process of giving up excessive smoking than to avoid that suffering
and later experience the medical consequences of such excessive
indulgence.
The
debts
we have incurred by harming other people or other sentient beings
such as animals can often be paid by service. Here we must
distinguish between wrongs we have done in this life, which we know
about, and unknown wrongs, which we have committed in previous
incarnations. An injustice which we know about, because it has been
perpetrated in the present incarnate experience, can often be
atoned for without any residual karmic carry-over, or at least the
karmic indebtedness can be greatly reduced. This is a large part of
what Jesus means in Luke 12:58—59, when he advises us to settle
with our opponents on the way to the magistrate, rather than refuse
to do so and be cast into the “prison” of retributive karma. There is,
in my opinion, a huge difference between such
a settlement and a steadfast refusal to “settle” throughout the
entire lifetime. After death the distortions caused by such acts go
much deeper into the psyche—far into the unconscious-- before the
next birth process begins, so much more suffering is required to
expiate such sins. This is one reason why some people, when they are
terminally ill, attempt reconciliation with family members, even
though they have been at odds with them for many years. This is also,
I think, why the Roman Catholic Church has often suggested that the
“unforgivable sin” is “final impenitence” or “to persevere
in mortal sin till death.” We know esoterically that such sins are
not ultimately unforgivable, but their expiation is, I submit,
immeasurably more difficult when there is no repentance prior to
death.
But
what of that karma
which lies in store for us from sins we have committed in past
incarnations? Even here the aforesaid teaching of Jesus is often
applicable. Classical Hinduism often distinguishes between sanchita
karma and prarabdha karma, or, to use common English
words, between unripe karma and ripe karma. The Sanskrit word
sanchita is related to a word which means a container for
arrows, which is worn on an archer’s shoulder. Just as arrows in
such a pouch are not yet flying through the air, so sanchita karma
is presently in abeyance, not yet ready to manifest on the physical
plane. Such unripe karma can often be expiated, I believe, if the
indebtedness is requited through service. Consider a medical analogy:
A woman has been a heavy smoker for many years. One day she notices
an unusual sore in her mouth, so she makes an appointment with a
dentist, who tells her that she has pre-cancerous cells in her mouth.
The dentist says that the condition can be treated so that the cells
will return to normal, but that the smoking must stop immediately and
permanently. The woman wisely takes the advice of her dentist,
undergoes the necessary treatment, and, consequently, never develops
oral cancer. Now let’s get back to the specifics of injustices
committed in the past lying in wait to attack us karmically in the
future.
Suppose
two physicians live in the same period of history and in roughly the
same place. They both run what were then called insane asylums and
make money confining innocent and healthy people who for some reason
are problems to or in conflict with their wealthy families.
Furthermore, they frequently starve, torture, and sexually abuse many
of their helpless victims, as well as do them immeasurable
psychological damage by constantly calling them “crazy,” among
other things. Both of them experience pleasant subsequent
incarnations because the terrible karma of these “psychiatric”
incarnations has not become ripe for manifestation. In each of these
incarnations one of these physicians—we’ll call him Dr.
Jones—does not change any of his attitudes, even though an inner
voice—often termed “grace”-- often suggests to him that he
ought to help people who find themselves the subjects of unethical
medical experiments or are imprisoned unjustly or are confined in
asylums under false commitment. After several of these incarnations
the full weight of the hitherto unripe karma descends upon him full
force, and he finds himself able to do virtually nothing to restore
his rights, regain his freedom, or protect him from violent, often
unconscionable physical and psychological abuse, as well as dire
poverty. These terribly painful experiences might then proceed for
several more incarnations and even lead him, in desperation, to more
unwise choices such as drug addiction or suicide, which, in turn,
will be productive of their own terrible karma. The other man,
however—we’ll call him Dr. Smith-- while the karma from his life
as a psychiatrist is still in abeyance, permits himself to be open to
the Law of Growth, and, as a result, his consciousness is raised, and
he hears and obeys a call to help people in ways that counteract his
former wrong choices. He becomes a lawyer and defends those in
asylums and those unjustly accused of crimes. He later, in another
incarnation, becomes a doctor and strives to end medical—particularly
psychiatric—abuses. The Lords of Karma take note of this service
and delay the bad karmaphala further, recognizing that,
without those limitations to encumber him, he is able to do much
good. He becomes, in another incarnation, a philanthropist and
perhaps is able to greatly help many of the same people he
previously abused. As he continues on this wholesome path, his
karmic indebtedness from the bad incarnation as a psychiatrist is
steadily paid off in service, and, finally, there is no balance which
must be remitted through terrible suffering.
We are,
accordingly, wise
to heed always those inner voices which seem to emanate from our
“good angels,” those intuitions that we ought to do good to
particular people in particular ways. If we are unexpectedly given
the opportunity to help someone, or if we seem inconvenienced by the
need to take care of some afflicted relative, how do we know that we
have not injured this being in the past and that this opportunity to
help someone else is really an opportunity to help ourselves by
mitigating a heavy karmic indebtedness?
But
what of ripe karma,
which in Sanskrit is called prarabdha karma, that karma which
is already manifesting in the physical plane or which is so close to
manifestation that it is impossible to prevent its advent? Students
of esoteric matters have traditionally divided such karma into two
categories: constant karma and variable karma. The former is
unchangeable in the course of a particular incarnation—for example,
being of a certain race or not having an optic nerve or suffering
from an incurable congenital disease; the latter type might not last
throughout an entire incarnation—it might be a limited amount of
karmaphala, for example, which will dissipate naturally before the
conclusion of the incarnation, or it might be something, such as ill
health or poverty, which the individual can ameliorate by changing
the underlying attitudes which brought the unpleasant situation into
manifestation, by attacking the problem directly by some means such
as hard work or undergoing medical treatment, or by serving others
in some way which would reduce the relevant karmic debt load.
It is
important to note, in this connection, that we can very easily
misjudge the category into which a particular pattern falls.
Situations we think are examples of constant karma might be variable.
A particular individual might, for example, think that his poverty is
unalterable, when, in fact, a more hopeful attitude and greater
effort on his part might improve the situation greatly. And the line
between the two types can change because of evolutionary occurrences
extrinsic to our private situations—for example, presently
incurable diseases might be curable in the future due to advances in
genetic engineering, and seemingly hopeless economic situations can
change due to unexpected changes in the political landscape. Of
course, the converse is also true: patterns of constant “bad luck,”
for example, might have such karmic force behind them that our
efforts to change them in the course of a particular life might be
predestined to come to naught. It is wise, however—in my opinion—to
assume that we can improve limiting situations unless the evidence to
the contrary is overwhelmingly preponderant. Edgar Cayce, when
consulted by individuals, almost never advocated an attitude of
complete resignation to such situations. And if, of course, the
karma is truly constant, positive attitudes can often make it less
unpleasant and even hasten its remission so that it is less likely
to carry over into subsequent incarnations.
I have
opined that all
karma can be canceled through the total merging of the consciousness
of one’s small self, one’s limited ego, into the consciousness of
a Divine Avatar such as Jesus. This is the predominant teaching in
Hinduism, Buddhism, and Christian Gnosticism. A problem, however,
arises. If we have done serious wrong to a person or a group of
persons and then achieve sudden total enlightenment—what Buddhists
often call satori—does this mean that the debt goes unpaid?
Does not the Divine right all wrongs and restore all unbalances?
In my
opinion such debts
are paid in full and more than in full, but not under the Law of
Karma, but rather under the Law of Grace, which transcends karma. A
human being who attained enlightenment would certainly pay such debts
not because he had to but because he would want to. The indebtedness
would then be remitted voluntarily, but not through suffering, most
likely, but through service to those whom he had injured. It would
be impossible to become enlightened and let go of one’s sinful ego
without repentance, and repentance necessarily includes a
determination to make amends for wrongs. Consider the following wise
words of the late Pope John Paul the Second:
-
[the]
requirement of forgiveness does not cancel out the objective
requirements of justice. …In no passage of the gospel message does
forgiveness, or mercy as its source, mean indulgence toward evil,
toward scandals, toward injury or insult. In any case, reparation for
evil and scandal, compensation for injury, andsatisfaction for insult
are conditions for forgiveness.(Dives in Misericordia 4).
So, in
conclusion, what should be our attitudes toward the often terrifying
realities of Divine Justice?
First
of all, we should
prudently consider and rightly fear retribution for wrongs we are
committing or are considering. Some spiritual people have suggested
that there is no bad karma because our mistakes and their
consequences are necessary components of our paths to Nirvana. I
submit, however, that those mistakes which result in severe karmic
retribution are unnecessary detours on our road to enlightenment.
Such sufferings are good for us, but only as corrections for
distortions in our consciousnesses which we should never have allowed
to take place. A strong antibiotic might be good for you if you have
a serious infection, but it would have been better to have avoided
the necessity for the antibiotic by avoiding the infection.
Secondly, such fear should
lead us to make amends through service and other means for wrongs
which we are aware of. Because of the possibility that severe
retributive sanchita karma—unripe karma—may be in store
for us, we ought to seize every opportunity to free ourselves from
our recognizable vices and to be of service to others in any ways we
can.
Then,
when we are doing the best we can in these regards, our fear should
steadily be replaced by hope, as we address to ourselves the words of
the King of Nineveh, who repented in response to the preaching of
Jona: “Who knows, God may relent and forgive, and withhold his
blazing wrath, so that we shall not perish” (Confraternity: Jona
3:9).
BIBLIOGRAPHY
-
Dives in
Misericordia: Papal Encyclical of Pope John Paul the Second
-
Swami
Bhaskarananda. The Essentials of Hinduism. Seattle: Viveka
Press, 1994.
-
Swami
Satprakashananda. Hinduism and Christianity. St. Louis: Vedanta
Society of St. Louis, 1975.
-
Wolfe, Rolland. The
Twelve Religions of the Bible. New York and Toronto: The Edwin
Mellon Press, 1982.