04.03.07c. Meditation, Christian versus Eastern; Roger Zelazny's Science Fiction Novel, Lord of Light. Pastor Robert Whitaker, said in his January 25 sermon at ECC that "Christian meditation moves from detachment to attachment." The idea, as described in Richard Foster's Celebration of Discipline, is to let an idea roll around in your mind, not thinking too hard about it, but not letting yourself go either, something rather different from either prayer or study, two of the other disciplines his book talks about. It's a good distinction, especially good for people like me who tend to study too much and meditate too little.

The idea in Eastern philosophy, on the other hand, and perhaps in Huxley's The Perennial Philosophy, is to move from attachment to detachment--- to drop off connection to anything else and empty your mind completely. Buddhism takes this to the extreme of trying to annihilate yourself.

I thought of one of the many wonderful passages in Lord of Light, the science fiction novel by Roger Zelazny which won the Hugo Prize for best novel of the year back in 1967. Sam had led an unsuccessful revolution against the gods. based on his attempt to introduce pseudo-Buddhism to undermine their pseudo- Hinduism. Having discovered from a previous attempt to execute him that Sam had discovered how to transfer his mind from one body to another, the gods decided this time to broadcast him up into the ionosphere or some such heavenly place. Later, plotting a new rebellion, his former enemy the death-god Yama figures out how to bring Sam back, working in concert with Tak the Ape and the night-goddess Ratri. But Sam find its tough being in a body again. From page 10:

He had no appetite; but Yama had found him a body both sturdy and in perfect health, one well able to bear the psychosomatic conversion from divine withdrawal.

But he would sit for an hour, unmoving, staring at a pebble or a seed or a leaf. And on these occasions, he could not be aroused.

Yama saw in this a danger, and he spoke of it with Ratri and Tak. "It is not good that he withdraw from the world in this way, now," he said. "I have spoken with him, but it is as if I addressed the wind. He cannot recover that which he left behind. The very attempt is costing him strength."

"Perhaps you misread his efforts," said Tak.

"What mean you?"

"See how he regards the seed he has set before him? Consider the wrinkling at the edges of his eyes."

"Yes, What of it?"

"He squints. Is his vision impaired?"

"It is not."

"Then why does he squint?"

"To better study the seed."

"Study? That is not the Way, as once he taught it. Yet he does study. He does not meditate, seeking seeking within the object that which leads to release of the subject. No."

"What then does he do?"

"The reverse."

"The reverse?"

"He does study the object, considering its ways, in an effort to bind himself. He seeks within it an excuse to live. He tries once more to wrap himself within the fabric of Maya, the illusion of the world."

This doesn't quite get it right. This kind of study is still what I was calling "meditation" above-- not the kind of examination in which one dissects, observes, and theorizes, but the kind of examination in which one tries to intuit.

In the novel, Sam does recover his will to live, partly by Tak taking him on walks in the jungle and partly by the thrill of gambling with demons, staking his body against command of energy-elementals useful in the coming war. It's a good book.

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