Reflections on the Cultic Shadow of the Liberal Catholic Church and its Offshoots
by Edward J. Parkinson
This essay is
intended as a warning to Liberal Catholics and other Gnostics,
including Catholic Gnostics, about the dangers of seduction into cult
thinking and entrapment by cults.
When I use the term "Liberal
Catholic," I am using it in a generic sense to include not only the
original Church—The Liberal Catholic Church Old Synod, but all
Catholic Churches which derive their lineage in whole or in part from
the influence of Bishops C.W. Leadbeater and Ingall Wedgwood. I am
thus including such organizations as The Liberal Catholic Church New
Synod, The Universal Catholic Church, The Liberal Catholic Church
Theosophia Synod, The Liberal Catholic Church International, The
Catholic Church of Antioch, and many others. Nonetheless, everything
I say here is applicable to other Gnostic organizations and
especially to Gnostic Catholic Churches, even if they do not in any
way derive their apostolic succession from the two aforementioned
bishops.
It might seem
upon first consideration to be totally unnecessary to issue such
warnings to men and women in Gnostic churches because such churches
pride themselves on their anti-authoritarianism and freedom of
thought. Bishops Leadbeater and Wedgwood, for instance, intended
The Liberal Catholic Church to always welcome all sincere
worshippers, whether or not they subscribed to the beliefs delineated
in The Statement of Principles and Summary of Doctrine. Gnostics
continue to maintain that no one should be—indeed that no one can be-- forced to adopt any beliefs and that a doctrine is true for a
particular person only if it sincerely apprehended by the person who
holds it as a result of his or her experience. Nonetheless, the
Apostle Paul seemed to anticipate the insights of the
twentieth-century psychoanalyst Carl Gustave Jung in regard to our
shadows—those parts of ourselves which are disowned and
consequently hidden from our view. We can frequently locate the
shadow of an individual or even a group by looking at what they
consciously value—the "good" sides of themselves they boast
about. Such "virtues" are likely to hide dangerous converses or
opposites which they are attempting to deny and suppress. A good
example of this can be found by looking at the all-pervasive sexual
misconduct and covering up of the same among the clergy and bishops
in the Roman Catholic Church. Few religions have been as extreme as
Roman Catholicism in valuing "chastity," which is often expressed
as an unhealthy repression of sexuality. The official position has
been that any voluntarily enjoyment of sex outside of heterosexual
marriage with an "openness to new life," as thy so often put it,
is "mortally sinful"—i.e., deserving of eternal punishment in
hell if it is not repented before death. Their clergy—even
diocesan priests outside of religious orders—are, except in a few
unusual cases—required to embrace total and lifelong celibacy. No
other major religion, including Islam, is as strict in prohibiting
artificial birth control. If a "sacramentally valid" marriage
comes to an end, both parties cannot remarry—and that means
absolutely no sex—until the first partner dies. It would thus
seem silly to warn them about the dangers of allowing sexual abuse of
minors to go unchecked among their clergy and be covered up by their
bishops, but a glance at the news media indicates that this is where
their problems are—they seem to have a more serious problem with
these issues than any other major religious institution , and
certainly far more problems than churches which take "liberal"
positions on such matters; these problems, with their attendant
lawsuits, are almost unknown among Unitarians and Reform Jews, for
two examples. So, perhaps, in view of the great valuation of
"freedom" in Liberal Catholic and other Gnostic Catholic
churches, it is not unreasonable to be wonder if there might be
Jungian shadows concerning freedom and susceptibility to cult
thinking lurking beneath the surface.
To illustrate these
points I shall draw on the experience of the early Liberal Catholic
Church with Krishnamurti, a young man with whom Bishop Leadbeater and
other founders of the Liberal Catholic movement became unreasonably
enamored and whose influence almost succeeded in totally derailing
The Liberal Catholic Church from its Catholic moorings and turning it
into an authoritarian cult. Krishnamurti advocated, among other
things, the total renunciation of all religious ritual, including the
Mass and Catholic sacramentalism, and—in spite of that—was
believed for a time by many early Liberal Catholics—apparently even
for awhile by Bishop Leadbeater humself –to be an incarnation of
the World Teacher and hence infallible. Many continued to hold that
view of him even after he himself explicitly disavowed such an
identity.
In my opinion
Krishnamurti and the attendant problems in that period of early
Liberal Catholic history represent a continuing problem for Gnostic
Catholic Churches—they were one manifestation of an ongoing danger
which can only be managed, never definitively eliminated. That
danger affects Gnostic Catholic Churches as a whole and many,
although not all, of their members . The danger I am thinking of is
the ever present lure of cult thinking. Could any Church of The
Liberal Catholic family turn into a cult? Are many of their
members—perhaps more than in most other denominations—susceptible
to cult recruitment ? The answer to these questions, I fear, is yes.
We should begin, I
suppose, by defining terms: what is a cult, and what is cult
thinking? Sociologists often use the word "cult" in a
supposedly value-neutral sense to refer to groups holding beliefs
outside a particular mainstream culture. Thus, Hindu and Buddhist
organizations in the United States are by this definition cults, as
are Christian churches in Japan. This definition is not germane to
our purposes, so we can ignore it. We can also ignore the tendency
of supposedly "orthodox" Christians to use the word pejoratively
to denote "heresies," departutes from what these conservatives
consider to be theologically correct Christianity. Thinkers such as
psychiatrist Arthur Deikman ( The Wrong Way Home ) and
comparative religionist J. Gordon Melton have, however, approached
the concept in a more useful way: using the term pejoratively to
designate groups possessing certain interrelated and negative
characteristics which diminish the individual power of their members
for the benefit of some leader or group of leaders. Thus Deikman
defines "cult" as
and
indoctrinates the members with his or her idiosyncratic beliefs.
Typically, members are dependent on the group for their emotional
and financial needs and have broken off ties with those outside.
The more complete the dependency and the more rigid the barriers
separating members from non-believers, the more danger the cult will
exploit and harm its members (1).
Melton defines
"cults" as "groups that share a variety of generally
destructive characteristics. While no group may embody all of them,
any 'cult' will possess a majority" (5). He then cites
fourteen characteristics listed by anti-cult writer Marcia Rudin. It
includes elements such as unquestioning acceptance of a leader's
edicts, deceptive recruitment practices, isolation from the outside
world, including family and former friends, censorship of ideas and
information, secrecy about financial, sexual, and other matters about
which members have a legitimate interest, lack of privacy within the
group, and great fostering of emotional and intellectual dependency.
These definitional approaches have the following advantages: (1)
they avoid using the "cult" as an automatic label to refer to any
group a given writer disagrees with; (2) they are useful in
recognizing cult tendencies in a group whose philosophical premises
we might share. These definitional tests could be applied to a
group espousing any particular ideas, whether religious,
political, or psychotherapeutic; (3) these approaches recognize
that obvious cults and obviously innocent organizations are polar
ends of a vast continuum which includes many complex shades of grey.
Thus, judgment is involved, not unambiguous perception, and a group
whose philosophy we might rightly consider sound could quietly
evolve in a cult-like direction with many members not realizing what
was happening until it was too late.
The characteristics
these and other writers have listed as warning signs are all elements
of a syndrome, and a syndrome of symptoms really—the disease itself
can be characterized much more succinctly: A cult leader fosters
dependency in his members to exploit them for his own advantage, and
the members participate because of a variety of understandable
weaknesses: a desire to submit to God in some simple, visible,
concrete way (this is in itself good, a genuine religious impulse,
but dangerous if not combined with certain kinds of awareness);
loneliness; fear; a desire to escape responsibility; generosity
combined with naivete; guilt; excessive trust; and many more.
This simple pattern ties together and explains the wholesale
recruitment of any who will submit, the cheap, inadequate diets of
members slaving sixteen hours a day recruiting on streets or in
airports or working in factories or on farms producing goods sold by
the cult, the secrecy, the deception, the censorship, the isolation
from influences outside the cult, the arbitrary and irrational
abusiveness of cult leaders documented so many times, the demands
that all worldly goods be surrendered, the sexual exploitation of
cult members which occurs so often.
Here is my
personal—incomplete, but, I hope, valuable—definition of a cult:
a group which exercises a great deal of (1) detailed and (2) external
control over its members (3) to their detriment and someone else's
benefit, (4) which engages in (5) universal and (6) often deceptive
recruitment, (7) which forbids members the right to think for
themselves and deprives them of needed information through (8)
censorship and (9) secrecy, and (10) imposes on them some rigid
system of all-inclusive belief. This is not an exhaustive
definition, but I consider it a very useful checklist. Let us
comment briefly on these elements.
(1 and 2): All
organizations impose some control on their members' behavior, even
social clubs. The first point to consider is how detailed it is.
The Roman Catholic Church, for example, promulagates detailed
stipulations for some things, such as marriage, but leaves members in
many areas free to interpret very broad moral guidelines. Some
cults, however, have very detailed rules governing every aspect of a
person's day-to-day life—consider, for example, Hasidic Judaism
as practiced in some communities. It is also important to consider
the degree to which such control is externally imposed. Most
churches rely on people to police themselves regarding gossip,
excessive eating, sexual behavior, etc., but some Mormon communities
send a bishop's representative to check on compliance with such
matters.
(3, 4, and5): A
Carmelite convent or a Trappist monastery would exercise a great deal
of external control over an individual, but the superiors of such
orders have lifestyles similar to those of other members of their
orders; in many cults, on the other hand, gurus are often wealthy and
sexually promiscuous while the rank-and-file membership slave away in
poverty to support such excesses. Cloistered Catholic religious
communities take only candidates they consider suitable for such a
life and turn many away; cults, in contrast, take anybody they can
exploit, recruiting on the streets of New Orleans, New York, and San
Francisco, in airports, etc. Additionally, such orders are honest
about the life they offer prospective members; cults, by contrast,
often invite people to "workshops" or "retreats" in isolated
areas and then prevent their leaving until quite a bit of
brainwashing has been done, accompanied by lack of sleep, constant
intrusive questions, exhausting chanting, etc.
(6, 7,8,9, and 10):
Any church has to have some doctrine and some acceptable doctrinal
parameters, so, obviously, this is a matter of degree. The Roman
Catholic Church under Pope John Paul the Second and under Pope
Benedict the Sixteenth , for example, has obviously been more
cult-like than was the Roman Catholic Church under Pope John the
Twenty-third, Pope Paul the Sixth, and Pope John Paul the First.
Indeed , Pope John Paul the Second, unlike his recent predecessors,
demanded total assent for even non-infallible pronouncements—in
effect, making almost every papal opinion beyond debate. Arthur
Deikman refers to
Pope John Paul
the Second 's attempt to banish dissent by revoking the right of a
distinguished Catholic scholar, the Reverend Charles Curran, to
teach at Catholic University. Curran had dissented at some points
from non-infallible but traditional church teachings on sexual
ethics. Archbishop Hickey explained the unusual and severe step
taken by the Pope: 'the Holy See has gone on to clarify for us,
to say there is no right to public dissent.... A Vatican official
commented further that 'we now have a situation in the United
States where many theologians teach not only church doctrine but
also the dissident view … then these professors ask the students
to pick their choice…an absolutely unacceptable practice.'
In a similar vein, as
the years progressed, Ayn Rand's demands on her followers became
more and more
inclusive, even stipulating what music and paintings they could or
could not approve of.
But let's get back
to The Liberal Catholic Church and Krishnamurti. The Liberal
Catholic Church is certainly not a cult by any of the above
definitions, and neither are any of its offshoots at the present
time—indeed, it would seem, with its tolerance and high valuation
of personal freedom to be beyond the possibilities of any such
dangers. Similarly, those attracted to cults would not, it would
seem, ever be found in The Liberal Catholic Church, nor would those
in any Liberal Catholic or other Gnostic Catholic denominations ever
evince the weaknesses which could lead to successful cult
recruitment.
But we would all do
well to heed Paul's warning quoted in the title of this essay:
"Wherefore let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he
fall" (1 Corinthinans 10:12). Jung maintained that our vaunted
strengths and virtues point to our shadows—those disowned sides of
ourselves which often contrast so sharply with the strengths we
manifest on the surface. When we divine using the I Ching , a
pattern of three yangs or three yings is interpredted as a "moving
line," one about to turn into its opposite. Similarly a pattern
of two yangs and one ying is interpreted as ying, and a pattern of
two yings and one yang is interpreted as yang. This is partly
because the compilers of the I Ching — The Book of Changes ,
as it is commonly called in English, recognized that polarities are
always intimately related to their opposites. The followers of Ayn
Rand consciously valued individualism to an immoderate degree and
disdained all forms of self-sacrifice, yet, without realizing what
they were doing, they sacrificed themselves to Ayn Rand's unhealthy
obsessions in a most self-destructive way (for a most interesting
account of this read Judgment Day by Nathaniel Branden and The
Passion of Ayn Rand by Barbara Branden). And sometimes great
strength in some or even most contexts can become a weakness in some
other context—courage can become foolhardiness, caution become
cowardice, tolerance become tolerance of evil.
The great strengths
of Liberal Catholics contain germs of weakness which must be closely
watched. Liberal Catholics and other Gnostic Catholics, to their
credit, are very open-minded about spiritual matters. They do not,
like fundamentalists or conservative Catholics, automatically reject
an idea just because it is new or because it is counter-intuitive or
because it conflicts with some traditional orthodoxy. Well and good.
But the walls conservatives build around themselves sometimes keep
out harmful things—although, it is true, they often exclude much
good. Many Liberal Catholics are involved in many New Age systems,
perhaps sometimes uncritically.
Liberal Catholics
are free of rationalistic and materialistic prejudices, recognizing
with Hamlet that "there are more things in heaven and earth than
are dreamed of in [such philosophies]." But superstition can be
the unintended underside of such recognition. Spiritual claims ought
not to be rejected out of hand, but neither should they be
uncritically accepted.
Liberal Catholics
are loving, positive, trusting people, rightly eschewing gossip and
negative thoughts about others because they recognize the corrupting
influence such thinking can have on the physical, astral, and
mental planes. Again, well and good. But suspicion of others'
motives and the recognition that a malign reality can hide behind a
benign exterior are great protections not only against cult leaders,
but also against child molesters, rapists, confidence artists,
demagogic politicians, and a host of other predators. Jesus often
saw a dark interior clothed in piety—e.g., "whited sepulchers
full of dead men's bones"—and the New Testament is full of
exhortations to discernment. St. Paul warns that the world is full
of
false apostles,
deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of
Christ. And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an
angel of light. Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers
also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness whose end
shall be according to their works (2 Corinthians: 11: 13—15).
Similarly, St. John
issues this warning in his First Epistle: "Believe not every
spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God: because many
false prophets are gone out into the world" (4:1).
Gnostic Catholic s
are people of great faith. But skepticism is perhaps our single
greatest protection against the claims of cult leaders. We must
sometimes be reminded that faith and skepticism are not opposites but
polarities—in a healthy spiritual life they go together, and both
serve our evolution.
Liberal Catholics
are polite and peaceful people, disliking unpleasant personal
confrontations. But sometimes such confrontations must
occur—sometimes even publicly—when people make inordinate claims
and/or demands.
Krishnamurti did not
turn The Liberal Catholic Church into a cult, but he could have.
I see no reason to
accept Krishnamurti as an Incarnation of the world Teacher.
Such an appearance
by the World Teacher in the twentieth century would, I believe, be
contrary to God's plan for our spiritual evolution. All religions
seem to include some version of the Second Coming. Buddhism—at
least in some of its forms—looks forward to another
Buddha—Maietreya, and Islamic belief includes some mysterious
savior-figure, the Imam Mahdi, to come near the end of the world,
although this is not often emphasized in Islam. And, of course,
Jews live in the expectation of the coming of the Messiah. But
these are all appearances at the end of an age made to souls wo have
completed a certain dispensation and attained a higher level of
consciousness. The Second Coming of Jesus corresponds with the end
of the world as we know it—a time of "great tribulation, such as
was not seen since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor
ever shall be" (Matthew : 24:21), an end-time for the universe in
which "shall the sun be darkened and the moon shall not give her
light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the
heavens shall be shaken" (Matthew: 24:29). The coming of the
Messiah, according to Erich Fromm, corresponds with "the
cataclysmic end of all history… a change in the situation of
mankind …. " (107). In the meantime Gautama Siddhartha is not
with us. "If you meet the Buddha kill him," says a popular Zen
saying. The Buddha after the earthly visitation is to be an internal
Buddha, not an external one. Similarly, in Islam there are no
prophets after Mohammed—the faithful are on their own to struggle
with and interpret the message he left. Deuteronomy ends with a
stipulation probably inserted by Northern Elohists to curb the
excessive cultic claims of "anointed" Southern kings and
Jerusalem Temple priests: "And there arose not a prophet since in
Israel like unto Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face" (34:10).
Again, one definitive revelation, and then the people are on their
own. Jesus specifically states that His ascension –His ceasing to
be present physically in one part of the world—is necessary for God
to be fully present with us: "It is expedient for you that I go
away: for if I go not away, the Comforter will not come unto you;
but if I depart, I will send him unto you" (John: 16). The
External Christ must be completely internalized before he can
manifest perfectly, both internally and externally; we must fully
access the Kingdom within, putting on our wedding garment before we
can be invited to the completed exterior and interior feast. In
other words, we must, through a long process, make ourselves ready
before we can expect such a Second Coming. Similarly, says Erich
Fromm, many Jewish thinkers have held that
The messiah
will come…as the result of man's own continuous improvement.
This is the meaning of the following statement: 'If Israel were
to keep two Sabbaths according to the laws thereof, they would be
redeemed immediately…'(111).
Meanwhile, during
the present dispensation, Christians are not to look for another
human manifestation of the World Teacher:
Then if any man
shall say unto you, Lo here is Christ, or there; believe it not. For
there shall arise false Christs, and false prophets, and shall show
great signs and wonders; insomuch that, if it were possible, they
shall deceive the very elect. Behold, I have told you before.
Wherefore if they shall say unto you, Behold, he is in the desert; go
not forth; behold, he is in the secret chambers; believe it not
((Matthew: 24:23—26).
When the Lord comes
for the second time, our consciousnesses will be so expanded that it
will be impossible for us to miss it: "For as the lightning cometh
out of the east, and shineth even unto the west; so shall also the
coming of the Son of Man be" (Matthew:24 :27).
Those Liberal
Catholics who abandoned their Catholic moorings for the words of
Krishnamurti would have done well to have heeded the fear expressed
by Paul:
For I am jealous
over you with godly jealousy: for I have espoused you to one
husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to Christ. But
I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve through his
subtlety, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that
is in Christ. For if he that cometh preacheth another Jesus, whom
we have not preached, or if ye receive another spirit, which ye have
not received, or another gospel, which ye have not accepted, ye
might well bear with him (2 Corinthians: 11:2—4).
Apart from such
theological considerations, however, a cool-headed consideration of
Krishnamurti's life and teachings would militate against an
acceptance of him as an Incarnation of the World Teacher. I see
nothing major to object to in his early work, At the Feet of the
Master , but I see nothing new: it seems to be a restatement of
very basic Gnostic ideas promulgated by saints and mystical writers
of all major religions throughout the ages. It would seem to be an
uneconomical expenditure of divine energy for the World Teacher to
manifest in the flesh to deliver this message. One is reminded of a
line from Hamlet : "My lord, it needs no ghost come from the
grave to tell us this!"
In the nineteen
twenties, however, Krishnamurti's advice evolved in a direction
unacceptable to any Catholics. In At the Feet of the Master he had written the following:
You must learn
that no ceremonies are necessary; else you will think yourself
somehow better than those who do not perform them. Yet you must not
condemn others who still cling to ceremonies. Let them do as they
will; only they must not interfere with you who know the truth—they
must not try to force upon you that which you have outgrown…. Now
that your eyes are opened , some of your old beliefs, your old
ceremonies, may seem to you absurd, perhaps, indeed, they really are
so. Yet though you can no longer take part in them, respect them
for the sake of those good souls to whom they are still important.
They have their place, they have their use; they are like those
double lines which guided you as a child to write straight and
evenly, until you learnt to write far better and more freely
without them. There was a time when you needed them; but now that
time is past (47—49).
What Krishnamurti
says in this passage is not untrue, strictly speaking: ceremonial is
not absolutely necessary for anyone, and at a very high stage of
evolution we outgrow it—indeed, a commonly used Roman Catholic hymn
looks forward to the time "when sacraments shall cease." But the
passage seems unbalanced. Very few people are at such a high
level that they have "outgrown" Catholic ceremonial, although a
larger number might think they have, grossly overestimating their
spiritual progress. Anent this, bishop Wdgwood makes the following
trenchant observation:
It is worth
noting that such dependence is an obstacle that has to be surmounted
only as we are preparing to take the second of the great
initiations. There need be, for most of us, no burning hurry to
disembarrasss ourselves of ceremonies! (11).
And, as for the few
who really have attained such a level—it would seem strange to
attempt to communicate with them by writing a book for general
publication! Krishnamurti refers to "some" ceremonial as
"asbsurd," but surely the Catholic Mass is not "absurd." An
absence of ceremonial, it is true, would not make spiritual
evolution impossible, but Krishnamurti seems to fail to appreciate
how immeasurably slower and more difficult the path would be. Bishop
Leadbeater puts it very eloquently:
As Sri Aurobindo
insisted, maya is only partly maya . If we would
reach the ultimate heights (figuratively) our ladder must be firmly
based on earth; the full scope of energy and life is called into
fullest vitality only by the tension between the two. From
ultimate, densest areas of material worlds we must bring all in
offering, to be transformed through developmental process into
divine fullness. We must not fly off into some quietist fantasy
world, forgetful of the brotherhood of being. We must be at one
with that before we can become at one with the greater levels
of consciousness. Unity is indivisible—a trite saying, but
seemingly forgotten by some ( Science xxii).
Bishop Wedgwood makes
telling concomitant points:
…however much
we profess to have outgrown ceremonies, we cannot really escape from
them. The manifestation of God in His world implies the fundamental
duality of spirit and matter, or life and form. Ceremony is the
science of form. Our bodily movements throughout the day are one
long ceremonial. There is an elaborate process of eating, of
dressing, of locomotion, and our relations with one another all
require self-expression through form. The Quaker who objects to
forms and ceremonies only substitutes his own simpler, and perhaps,
therefore, less effective, use of forms for those he disapproves of
in others (13—14).
Krishnamurti's
attitude seems to me to evince an element of smug ungratefulness to
the Great Ones by whose labors we have been blessed with Catholic
ceremonial. It seems the attitude not of a great mystic but of a
limited mind laboring under the limitations of many at the beginning
of the modern period, as described so tellingly by Leadbeater:
But when the
change of Rays was just beginning to manifest itself, and at the
same time the lower mind—the analyzing rather than the synthetic
mind—was coming into prominence, people began to be impatient of
ceremonial and to think of it as a useless appendage, or even as
something which came between themselves and God rather than a help
to worship and to understand Him. Then a great wave of Puritanism
and, almost at the same time, one of atheism passed over Europe
( Christian Gnosis 288).
Leadbeater also
points out that "ceremonial, since it is a channel for the
outpouring of spiritual force, is in itself a definite work, and
…those who take part in it are doing something distinct and
definite for the helping of evolution" ( Christian Gnosis 289). This also seems to point to a defect in Krishnamurti's
understanding. In At the Feet of the Master he tells us that
He who is on the
Path exists not for himself, but for others; he has forgotten
himself, in order that he may serve them. He is as a pen in the
hand of God, through which His thought may flow, and find for itself
an expression down here , which without a pen it could not have.
Yet at the same time he is also a living plume of fire, raying out
upon the world the Divine Love which fills his heart (70—71).
Krishnamurti seems
not to have been perspicacious enough to recognize that, just as God
might need human instruments to effect certain transformations in the
lower planes, human beings might need ceremonial instruments to do
such work effectively. As Wedgwood points out, this observation
disposes of much objection to ceremonial.
In the nineteen
twenties, however, Krishnamurti's message appears to have become
much worse. He began to demand that his hearers eschew ceremonial
entirely. This caused many people to leave The Liberal Catholic
Church and many Theosophists to leave other religions. As he grew
more radical he insisted not only on the abolition of ceremonial but
on the dismantling of all religious institutions. The Third General
Episcopal Synod of The Liberal Catholic Church wisely refused to
adopt officially the idea that he was the Word Teacher, but it is
disturbing that so many Liberal Catholics seriously considered such a
step. Even Bishop Leadbeater appeared to be taken in by him, at
least for awhile--although, to his credit, he never tried to impose
these views on Liberal Catholics. An article Bishop Leadbeater wrote
for the magazine The Liberal Catholic in 1930 contained the
following tendentious reasoning and special pleading:
Some have
refused to believe that Krishnaji can possibly be a manifestation of
the World-Teacher because of certain statements which he has
made—such, for example, as: 'You cannot approach Truth by any
Path whatsoever, nor through any religion or rite or ceremony
whatever. Forms of religious ceremony may be intended to help man,
but I maintain that they cannot help…'
This is in flat
contradiction to the experience of thousands of people; we have been greatly helped and uplifted by ceremonies, and (what is of
far more importance) we have been able through them greatly to help
others…
Cannot you see
that if a great reformer is to move a supine and inattentive world,
he must speak strongly, he must insist upon the
particular point which he is emphasizing, he must ignore all
considerations which tell against it. He must be entirely
one-pointed, he must see no side but own—in short he must be
fanatical (qtd. In The Liberal Catholic Institute of Studies
030.001-1-49—50).
No, I do not see Bishop Leadbeater's point. It contradicts many statements
Bishops Leadbeater and Wedgwood made about the complexity and
many-sidedness of spiritual evolution and the necessity of
respecting all souls and meeting them where they are on their path to
God. Fanaticism indicates a deficiency of Third Ray qualities, in
addition to other deficiencies. I do not see that great reformers
can "move a supine and inattentive world" by telling people to
abjure the Mass and Catholic sacraments. Even if highly developed
souls no longer need such ceremonial, the "supine and inattentive"
most certainly do! Bishop Leadbeater, despite his usual perspicacity,
seems not to have thought through the implications of his statements
in this article.
And Krishnamurti
seems not to have prudently considered context and audience.
Gautama Siddhartha made anti-ceremonial statements, but he was
speaking in India at a time when an unscrupulous priestly class was
employing ceremonies superstitiously in order to take selfish
advantage of others, while denying essentials of spirituality, such
as love and justice. Krishnamurti was addressing, on the contrary,
twentieth-century Theosophists, including Liberal Catholics, a very
different matter. Jesus denounced empty formalism but still
participated in Jewish Temple services and celebrated Passover.
Krishnamurti's statements might have been valuable had he addressed
them exclusively to a small coterie of extremely self-dependent First
Ray souls following some thinker such as Patanjali, but he apparently
lacked the discernment to see the necessity for such a confinement of
his message.
And this lack of
discernment is itself a powerful argument against subscribing to him
the status of World Teacher. "A great spiritual leader," Bishop
Wedgwood once asserted, "comes but rarely into the world…. He is
not simple. He is the product of many lives and of innumerable
experiences in the past…. Such teachers are rare, the
efflorescence of an age.". This description seems to point to a
higher level of awareness than Krishnamurti was able to achieve.
Many of our Liberal Catholic and Theosophical ancestors in faith, to
whom we owe so much, seemed to have a curious blindness about this
matter. Annie Besant—never officially a member but, nonetheless, a
figure worthy to considered a "Doctor" of The Liberal Catholic
Church and the Liberal Catholic movement—continued to believe in
Krishnamurti's World Teacher status even after he disavowed it and
dissolved the Order of the Star. This is reminiscent of devotees of
the Fox sisters continuing to believe in them even after they swore
their effects were produced by chicanery. There is a danger here
that bears watching, a weakness in people of Gnostic bent.
I've discussed
earlier in this essay some possible reasons for this. I think
perhaps the most important is the difficulty of analyzing inward
promptings and judging g whether they come from the buddhic or
nirvanic realms, or from shallower parts of ourselves on the astral
or mental planes. A Gnostic Catholic may have an emotional
experience different from those which occur in Pentecostal churches,
but an emotional experience nonetheless; he or she may then
misinterpret it as an intuitional or spiritual experience. This type
of mistake is easy to make, as St. John of the Cross, St. Therese of
Avila, Fr. Thomas Merton, and so many other writers on these matters
have so often pointed out.
I think that
Krishnamurti was seriously mistaken, but I would not want to cast
aspersions on his character. I have said that he perhaps "could
have" turned The Liberal Catholic Church into a cult—I have not
said that he tried to or wanted to. He dissolved the Order of the
Star, disavowed his purported status as World Teacher, broke with
the Theosophical Society at a time when he might have been able to
control it, and for the rest of his life opposed organizations such
as the Order of the Star and refused titles such as Christ and World
Teacher. These facts would seem to indicate that he did not have a
cult leader's unscrupulous motivations. But he did have the
charisma, and other leaders with charisma might have different
motivations, so the lessons of this period of Gnostic Catholic
history deserve to be heeded not only by Liberal Catholics, but by
Gnostics generally.
WORKS CITED
Branden, Barbara. The
Passion of Ayn Rand . New York: Doubleday, 1986.
Branden, Nathaniel. Judgment Day . New York: Doubleday, 1989.
Deikman, Arthur J.
M.D. Them and Us : Cult Thinking and the Terrorist Threat .
Berkeley: Bay Tree Publishing, 2003.
Deikman, Arthur J.
M.D. The Wrong Way Home : Uncovering the Patterns of Cult
behavior in American Society . Boston: Beacon Press, 1990.
Krishnamurti, J.D.
(Jiddu). Chicago, Rajput Press, 1911.
Leadbeater, C.W. The
Christian Gnosis . London: st. Alban Press, 1983.
Leadbeater, C.W. The
Science of the Sacraments . London: The Theosophical Publishing
House, 1929.
Liberal Catholic
Institute of Studies. Instructional Units. Ojai, California. Various
Publication Dates.
Wedgwood, James
Ingall. New Insights Into Christian Worship . London: St.
Alban Press, 1980.