​This post was originally published in “The Myrobalan Seed.”]“We’re on a mission from God.”
Proclaimed in righteous tones by John Belushi (or was it Dan Akroyd?) at a key moment in the American comedy film “The Blues Brothers,” this line of dialogue conveys the urgency, the conviction, the characters’ utter sense of being right in their hilarious, if destructive, quest to do good. They’re called to do important work – dammit! – and nothing is going to stand in their way, even if it leads to multi-car pileups.
It’s human to cling, sometimes, to a sense of stubborn righteousness, which is what makes the Brothers’ lampooning of it so funny. (And because they also represent a ‘stick it to the man’ anti-establishment attitude, we cheer, but that’s another story.)
A Buddhist teacher once remarked that when you meditate, there’s the danger that a sense of self-importance can grow. You may become obsessed with the grandeur of your practice, bolstered by your own growing sense of change. This problem has also been called spiritual materialism. The ego can as easily get enmeshed in spiritual work as in any other kind of work. Just because one is meditating, that doesn’t mean the problematic aspects of the ego go away.
Those who see their lives as an unfolding spiritual path may sometimes feel they are on a mission from God, or at least in tune with the Universe. And that’s not a bad thing. Not only does such a commitment mean you’re doing the crucial work of becoming yourself, learning to love, and coming closer to God. If the path is worth its salt, you’re also taking on a dedication to service and social justice. A blossoming realization of the connectedness of creation, the underlying unity of things, calls you to act, with compassion, with determination, and hopefully with common sense, to build a better world. It is important work.
But it can also be tricky work. There can be danger in commitment to a lofty goal; the danger of self-aggrandizement, of overzealousness, of “triumphalism” – the idea that your way is the only way. It’s a razor’s edge path that needs to be walked with care.
History’s pages are replete with stories of folks who were overly sure of themselves and their message, who rained down religious intolerance, paved the way for colonialism, foisted destructive notions of sin on others. Of teachers who didn’t measure up to the standards their followers expected.
Even paths that take pains to distinguish spiritual wisdom from religious dogma have their problems. Though embracing spiritual values does make a difference, any organization made up of human beings is going to have its rough edges, since people are at many different stages of development. Spiritual organizations also get caught up in controversy and turmoil, their leaders fall, members are left feeling angry and used. Disagreements lead to hurt feelings, traumatic disruptions of self, even schisms.
I don’t want to toss any babies out with any bathwater here – there are plenty of spiritually-oriented people who live good, authentic, integrated lives. But life is a constant tug-of-war between self-centered and self-giving tendencies. So I’ve been thinking about what I can do to keep things in perspective for myself, and moving in the right direction. Perhaps these suggestions will be of use to you, too.
I try not to get bent out of shape when things don’t happen exactly as I’d hoped. Some people call this nonattachment. Doing the work, but not having an egoic investment in the outcome. But it’s also important that nonattachment doesn’t manifest as non-caring or non-involvement. It’s not passivity or quietism. It’s also not an excuse to bypass one’s own emotional or psychological work. (Spiritual bypass is a term psychologists are beginning to recognize, connoting the tendency to use a commitment to spirituality as a way of avoiding dealing with one’s own personal problems). Nonattachment is a kind of letting go, a surrender, a relaxing, not a tensing, into whatever comes your way.
I try to understand that everyone has a shadow. In Jungian terms, the shadow is the material in our consciousness that we sweep under the rug, the things we’d rather not acknowledge, the unflattering or messy elements that everyone possesses, but sometimes we repress. Organizations have shadow sides, too. For example, when leaders make mistakes, and instead of acknowledging them, the organization tries to cover them up, the shadow grows. Instead of focusing only on light and love all the time, which can become, frankly, a little saccharine, we need to acknowledge and work with our shadow sides, too. By recognizing that flaws are a part of being human, we can take steps to heal, not reject, the broken parts of ourselves. That leads to wholeness.
Some spiritual groups operate through the use of hierarchies of authority. Obedience is expected. That’s fine; it helps them to run smoothly, and may also be a method of cultivating humility. But such obedience has also to be nested within a framework of wisdom and maturity. Those who commit to it have to do so with open eyes. They cannot blindly do what someone else tells them to do, but need to develop their own conscience, their own sense of discernment. Famous last words: ‘I was just following orders.’
Getting grounded on a daily basis in an ethical commitment is helpful. Not an “ends justify the means because we’re on a mission from God” morality. But an ethics based in the everyday, in the rubbing of elbows with those I meet on the street. Remaining as humble as the grass, as modest as a tree, as someone once suggested. Offering respect and opportunity to all, because we recognize a common humanity in all.
I also commit to a daily meditation practice, one that allows me to feel a sense of connection and joy. And I try not to see my daily practice as an egoic accomplishment, something that allows me to claim superiority. It’s simply a settling into a sense of love and peace. This is, after all, what drew me to a spiritual path in the first place. Sometimes it’s important to get back to basics. It’s all about the love. If a practice doesn’t increase your love, I’d say look elsewhere.
Finally, I realize that a sense of humor goes a long way. Just as the Blues Brothers skewered the human tendency to take oneself too seriously, humor can be used to put things into perspective.
There’s a curious tension at play in all of this, the tension of cultivating a healthy ego, and knowing when to let go of that ego. It calls for daily self-examination. I’m certainly not saying people shouldn’t be taking on important work. But it’s all about the way things are framed. If one engages with the work of the moment in an open, humble way, takes time to see the beauty of the little things instead of obsessing over grandiose visions, one can remain balanced and present, get good things done, and keep things in perspective.
And not have to deal with too many car crashes.