This is part seven of an 8-part series. You can start with the Introduction here.
Throughout this series, I have been exploring what happens
when we recover the older meaning of “occult” as hidden or esoteric rather than
simply using it as a synonym for evil.
As you know by now, my own journey has led me through Methodist
Christianity, a broadly Anglican framework of discernment, panentheism, and
studies of Theosophy, Wicca, neo-paganism, and Druidic traditions. Along the
way, I have come to value ritual, earth-centered spirituality, and feminine
imagery of the Divine. There are aspects of esotericism in all of these spiritual
pathways. The concept of esoteric traditions raise another important question:
Who gets access to spiritual knowledge?
The word gnosis generally refers to direct or
experiential knowledge, particularly knowledge of spiritual reality. Historically,
many esoteric traditions have distinguished between teachings available
publicly and teachings reserved for initiates.
I understand some of the reasons for this. Certain teachings
require context and some practices require preparation. Spiritual experiences
can be misunderstood. Symbols may carry layers of meaning that are difficult to
communicate without deep study. Responsibility and maturity matter. Community
can matter.
However, I do not believe that genuine access to the Divine
is ultimately the property of a chosen few. My panentheistic understanding
leads me in another direction. If all things exist within God, and if divine
presence permeates creation while also exceeding it, then the possibility of
encountering the sacred is woven into existence itself.
Gnosis may be cultivated and deepened. It may need
interpretation. It may need to be tested through reason, community, tradition,
experience, and attention to its fruits. No priesthood, institution, lineage,
guru, initiated circle, or spiritual elite owns the Divine.
This leads me to a clarification that I find important: Mystery
is not the same thing as secrecy. Something may be hidden because someone has
deliberately concealed it, but something may also be hidden because it is
profound, subtle, difficult to perceive, or impossible to exhaust. A mystery
does not necessarily cease to be a mystery when it becomes available to
everyone. The ocean is available to everyone, but no one possesses the ocean. Love
is available to everyone, but no definition exhausts it. The natural world
surrounds us yet remains filled with realities we are still discovering. The
Divine may be universally present and still remain infinitely mysterious.
Perhaps, then, gnosis need not mean possession of secret
information that makes one spiritually superior to others. Gnosis can mean
awakening to a reality that has always been present. In that sense, the
spiritual journey is not necessarily about gaining admission to an exclusive
circle. It may be more about learning to perceive.
This does not mean that every spiritual claim is equally
true. It does not mean that teachers are unnecessary or that traditions have
nothing to teach us. It does not mean that preparation, discipline, study, or
initiation can have no value. It means only that these things should serve
awakening rather than create spiritual monopolies.
There is a significant difference between saying: “This
takes time to understand.” and saying: “Only people like us are permitted to
know.” There is a difference between guiding someone into deeper understanding
and creating dependency upon those who claim exclusive access to truth. This is
where esoteric traditions and Christian traditions must both be willing to
examine themselves.
Christianity has also claimed exclusive spiritual authority
and churches have also controlled access. Clergy have also positioned
themselves as necessary intermediaries. Institutions have also confused
stewardship of a tradition with ownership of the Divine. The temptation to
become gatekeepers of mystery is not unique to occult or esoteric traditions.
I propose that the healthiest spiritual traditions are those
that offer maps without claiming to own the territory. They teach practices, preserve
wisdom, provide community, and help people interpret experience. They also
recognize that the mystery itself remains greater than the tradition. If that
is true, then the original question, “Is New Age occult?” begins to look
different. Perhaps the most critical issue is not whether a practice can be
placed inside or outside the category of “occult.”
Maybe the question is what we do with mystery once we
encounter it.
Next in the series
If mystery is not the same thing as secrecy, and if no
tradition owns access to the Divine, then labels alone cannot tell us whether a
particular spiritual practice is trustworthy.
In the final article, I will return to the original question,
“Is New Age occult?” and suggest that the deeper task is not labeling
but discernment: asking what a spiritual path produces in human lives and in
our relationships with one another, the Earth, and the sacred.
