On Nondual Thinking: Part 2, Gnosticism

I confess that, right from the very start, the thing that gave me pause about "nondual thinking" was that it was about consciousness. That focus on mental states made me worry about gnosticism. 

That nondual thinking shades into gnosticism goes to its Eastern origins. In the East, nondual thinking is a part of the path to enlightenment. 

But Christianity isn't about about enlightenment, higher states of consciousness, or achieving the Buddha-nature. 

Now, of course, there are deep and rich intersections between Christianity and Eastern religions. This is well trod territory. Thomas Merton is my favorite gateway into that conversation. And it's also very true that Christians are supposed to attend to their thinking and strive to attain "the mind of Christ." And if the "mind of Christ" is characterized by nondual thinking, well, there you go.

So my issue isn't with nondual thinking precisely, but with its exalted, central, and privileged location in many conversations, the importance it holds for many as the pivot point of the spiritual life. Again, there's something in me that squirms when thinking, some exalted state of consciousness, is placed at the center.

Let me illustrate some of what I'm talking about. For example, nondual proponents will often turn to Philippians 2 to illustrate some of their key ideas. In this text Paul says we are to have "the mind of Christ." And what is that "mind"? Well, Paul says that Jesus did not consider equality with God as something to be "grasped." Rather, Jesus "emptied" himself to take on the form of a servant. In nondual conversations these ideas are typically unpacked in very gnostic ways. That is, the "grasping" in the text is a grasping mind, a mind that is "attached" to thoughts. "Emptying," then, is practicing "non-attachment" in meditation and centering prayer, not becoming attached to our thoughts and emotions but learning to "let them go."

Again, let me be very, very clear. As a spiritual practice, things like centering prayer, mindfulness, and meditation are potent tools for spiritual growth and development. Our minds do too quickly "attach" to experience and are quick to label experiences as "good" or "bad." Such attachments create an inner experience--a self--that is jumpy, volatile, and triggered. Bringing calm, tranquility, and equnaminity to our inner life in this distracted and anxious age is hugely important. Consequently, I recommend prayer and meditation techniques. We need some inner peace. 

But that said, notice how a nondual description of Philippians 2, Jesus' kenosis, is described as a wholly cognitive journey. The "grasping" and "emptying" is mental, a journey and practice of consciousness. But that's not actually what Philippians 2 is describing. What Philippians 2 is describing is a physical change of social locations, a descent from "high status" to acts of servanthood. What Philippians 2 is describing is Maundy Thursday. Jesus isn't sitting under a Bodhi tree or on his meditation cushion in Philippians 2. He's on his knees washing feet. Love is action. 

To be sure, the practice of nondual thinking in disciplines like centering prayer help us on this journey toward servanthood. A non-grasping mind aids our non-grasping of status. But the key here is keeping nondual thinking in its rightful place, to not mistake the means for the end. If nondual meditation helps you become a servant then engage in the practice. But you can also just walk out the door and volunteer to serve a needy community in your city. For my part, I don't really care how you get out the door, but the goal is to get out the door to see you serving, somewhere, on the streets. Prayer practices are vital. Let's just make sure we've got some dirty knees. In the language of Bob Goff, love does

I also have a related concern about elitism. Recall, many nondual proponents describe nondual thinking as more mature, sophisticated, and advanced. An elitism is baked into the conversation. Which raises a question: Are people with more concrete and binary cognitive styles--due to genetic, developmental, cognitive, personality and/or educational factors--doomed to be spiritually immature? For example, almost all of my pastoral work occurs in prisons or among the poor. And it's simply a truth that the thinking in these locations tends to pretty concrete and dualistic. So I'm reluctant to make anything the preeminent virtue of Christianity when it is only accessible to the highly intelligent and college-educated. 

Now, this could be my own, perhaps biased, take on the situation. But I'm not the only one who has noticed this. I once heard an exchange with a leader in the nondualistic world who shared that they struggled with prison ministry, because the inmates were too dualistic in their thinking. That's revealing. I thought to myself upon hearing that: Is that a problem with the incarcerated or with the message?

Listen, again, this isn't a broadside against the nondualistic message. As I said in the last post, many, including many dear friends of mine, have found the nondualistic insight absolutely transformative. And to that I say, Praise God. My caution here is simply to keep our focus on love rather than consciousness, and to make sure we don't exclude or stigmatize people who have different cognitive styles.

This entry was posted by Richard Beck. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply