Credere est inimicus fidei

Alan Watts observed that if you believe in God, then you don't really have faith. Believing in God means you're still clinging to something, whereas faith means totally letting go.

Belief in things like God or souls is actually easy to let go of, since those concepts are speculative. The hard part is letting go of beliefs about things that we're certain exist.

We know that life exists, consciousness exists. They invite beliefs about them which can be difficult to detach from. To look at a simple thing like a tree and say, "I don't know what that is" almost flies in the face of reason. And yet to say, "I know what that is" is to suggest that our conceptualization of reality has no limits, which is obviously false. Or is it?

Rosicrucian teachings suggest that our objective conceptualization has limits, but our subjective conceptualization does not. Our subjective conceptualization is part of a whole which is in itself an infinite absolute.

As an article of faith, this is debatable. But the only way to reach subjective conceptualization would be to acknowledge the limits of the objective.

The teachings themselves are like a tree. We have to say ourselves, "I don't what that is" in order to approach the inner alchemy that lies at the heart of the tradition. That inner alchemy, as described in The Chemical Wedding, may be less a transmutation than an obliteration. We can only know by not knowing.

Kill the Buddha

Some Rosicrucian organizations today offer complete, self-contained religious systems ; others offer a philosophy of religion rather than a religion itself. Either way, I think it's important to view all these teachings with detachment.

To paraphrase a famous Zen saying, if you meet Christian Rosenkreuz, kill him.

The Rose-Croix is an object of desire, but it's also a weapon to kill that desire within those who seek it. "I did not come to send peace, but a sword."

Seeking Eternity

Wise are those who seek eternity in the moment

This sounds like a typical Zen aphorism, but I think it makes sense hermetically too. According to the principle of correspondence, the eternal character of a higher plane should correspond to the transient nature of life as we know it.

If eternity can be described as timelessness, then it corresponds to a moment of "no time", i.e. the present. Eternity is without past or future. The fullness of time corresponds to the emptiness of Zen.

We cannot directly experience eternity, but we can experience its mirror image. In meditation we can encounter moments of no time, a shadow of permanence that passes as soon as it is realized.

Welcome

Welcome to the blog of the Zen Rosicrucian. What is that, you may ask ? In short, it is the practice of zazen in contemplation of Rosicrucian symbolism.

The original Rosicrucian manuscripts of the 17th century combined anti-authoritarian Reformist Christianity with esotericism, syncretism and spiritual alchemy, whereas the prominent Rosicrucian fraternal organizations of today, such as AMORC, CR+C and SRIA incorporate a broad focus of structured study and practice largely revolving around concepts that were trendy in the Edwardian era (Egyptology, Atlantis, examination of psychic phenomena).

As a Zen Rosicrucian, I practice a more minimalist approach, according the maxim Calix iam plenus replevit non potest, or "you can't refill a cup that's already full". Through simple meditation on Rosicrucian imagery, I try to empty myself and allow my conscious and unconscious minds to explore the symbolism as they will, treating that symbolism, after a fashion, as a form of Zen koan.

If this concept intrigues you, I invite you to read further.

How do I practice ?

Typically, I set up my small Rosicrucian altar, fill the brass bowl with water, light candles and incense and, seated before the altar in typical zazen fashion, I mediate quietly, allowing my thoughts to flow freely. Afterwards, I take the bowl to the sink and use the water for a post-meditative ablution.

This ablution was added at the suggestion of my Neopagan sister-in-law, who says it improves my aura. I don't know whether this is true, but I like it as a calming and cleansing way to conclude my practice.

What I hope to experience generally during meditation is a sense of inner joy, as Buddhists might put it, but this doesn't always come to me. However, it's important not to have too much attachment to any particular goal. In sese ire est ire extra tempus — to go into yourself is to go outside of time, to escape your own drives and thus meet yourself in a state of renewal.

I hope you've enjoyed this introductory post, and hopefully more will accrue.