The Keys to the Kingdoms
“And when the Pharisees demanded: ‘When will the kingdom of God come?’ he answered them and said, ‘The kingdom of God will not be seen. Neither will they say, ‘Lo here!’ or, ‘lo there!’ ‘for, behold, the kingdom of God is within you.’” (Luke 17:20-21)
This popular verse is understood to mean that, as opposed to the usual geographical designations (heaven is “up there” while hell is “down there”), “heaven” is actually a state of mind: a sense of such confidence in the power of the Divine that one maintains peace and equanimity no matter what is going on in the world. In this context, it is very similar to the Zen Buddhist approach. “Samsara” is the ordinary world we experience every day—a world we presumably escape into “Nirvana” once we achieve spiritual enlightenment. In Zen, however, one does not “escape” from Samsara. Rather, through enlightenment one is able to experience the spiritual peace of Nirvana within Samsara.
While that may be reasonably clear, it should be understood that these texts suggest the opposite as well: hell/samsara are also states of mind. If heaven/nirvana are characterized by the peace of mind that comes from the profound identification with the Divine in the world, hell/samara is the result of alienation where one feels in constant danger in an uncaring, threatening world. The former leads to peace; the latter, to anxiety.
With this in mind—as it were—the usual stories of mystics or yogis withdrawing from society to mountaintops, ashrams, monasteries or whatever are counterproductive. There are benefits to solitude, yes, but that solitude should not be isolationist. Like heaven/nirvana, solitude is a state of mind that can be maintained no matter what is happening. Indeed, the true mystic is not content to stay on the mountain top, but feels obligated to share that vision to empower others to reach the same state. Biblically speaking, Moses does directly experience God’s presence on top of Mount Sinai, but he does return to complete the task of delivering the Israelites to the “Promised Land.” In Zen, the Bodhisattva is one who has all the insight and wisdom to achieve Nirvana—but refuses to do so until s/he can bring everyone else along.
Given today’s climate of division and hatred—where the “other” is seen as not only “wrong” but “evil”–there is a great temptation to close off our hearts and minds and escape to some other realm by way of entertainment or work or drugs or what often goes for “spirituality.” However, if we truly believe we are “one with the universe,” we can live lives of true compassion. Note that “compassion” is not the patronizing, condescending “I know what’s best for everyone and I will force them to do what I say for their own good.” True compassion comes from using our unique abilities to do what we can to help where we can—with the fundamental confidence that there is a mysterious “Divine” that will ensure that what needs to happen will happen, even though difficult times may make that hard to believe. In the Bible, that “Divine” does not manifest in the obvious power of earthquakes or storms, but the “still, small voice” that Elijah hears. In the East, Lao Tzu calls the divine the “Tao” which, like water, “is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield.”
How can we realize the “heaven/nirvana” within us? The more there is arrogance and violence, the more we can be sure the path to the divine lies elsewhere. After all, as the Psalmist proclaims: “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,” (Ps. 83) how can I not trust that the Lord of all the Universe may be just a little bit wiser than me?
Put another way: we are to pray that “Thy Will be done.” not that “my will be done.”