The changing world, and lectures to theosophical students. / Fifteen lectures delivered in London during May, June, and July, 1909

by Annie Besant

Let us see how those facts are bound together in the sacrament itself, and what is their connexion with the constitution of man and of the worlds in which he lives. The worlds with which the man is connected, for our present purpose, we can take as the physical, astral, mental—the three worlds in which turns the wheel of births and death. He is in those three—either in all of them together, as when in the physical world; in two of them, as when in the astral world; in one only when in the heavenly world. For remember that only in the physical world are the three bodies available that connect him with all of the three at the same time. In these three worlds, then, man is continually living. He is related to them by his physical body, astral body, and mental body, so that you have a living intelligence, a spiritual being, who, by means of the matter that he has appropriated in these three worlds, is able to come into contact with each of them. But now arises the question: Given a spiritual intelligence clothed in this triple veil of matter; given the fact that that spiritual intelligence, by the veil of matter, is in contact with three worlds—how shall he be able to come gradually into conscious connexion with each, so that the stream of spiritual life, coming down from the spiritual world, may at once purify the matter of his bodies, illuminate his consciousness in these three stages, and so begin the great work of spiritualising the whole man? That is the problem that religion has had to solve. So far as ordinary Protestantism is concerned, the body has been cast aside as a very temporary possession, only occupied by the spiritual intelligence during one brief life, and hardly worth troubling about. Hence the body has become very much neglected from the ordinary standpoint of Protestantism, and the reaction against that has taken the form of materialism, so that you find people rejecting the view of the worthlessness of the body, and falling into a materialism in which the body is made the most important thing. Instead of that, in the earlier days of the great faiths, the body was regarded as a valuable possession, a thing to be made holy, to be sanctified, in order that it might be a fitting instrument of the spiritual intelligence therein embodied.

And so, in all these earlier days of religions, continual relationships were being made, first between the spiritual world and the lower worlds, and then between the embodied intelligence and the bodies that that intelligence is wearing. Hence the sacraments which should touch both body and consciousness, which should sanctify the material vehicles while illuminating the spiritual intelligence, which should make the whole man really spiritual in order that the object of incarnation might be accomplished—that matter in all the worlds should be rendered the obedient servant of Spirit. That was the object of the sacrament. Hence the necessity for the material object in order that it may come into touch with the dense body. Hence the need of the signs in order that, by the vibrations set up, sent on to subtler planes, the subtler bodies might be set vibrating, and be able to receive the downfall of spiritual life. Hence also the need for the gesture, so that the magnetic force sent out in the consecration might link together the denser and the subtler matter by this bond of magnetism, and in that way might make the whole of the material object a vehicle for the higher life while preparing the bodies for the reception of that downflow.

Now let us, in order to work out these principles, take the sacrament of Baptism. In this you know that you have the whole of these three conditions of a sacrament present—water, the material object; the words of power; the consecration of the water. You have the words of consecration, praying God to sanctify this water to the mystical washing away of sin; and then you have the sign of power—the cross made over the water—in order that the magnetism from the fingers of the priest may magnetise it, and be the link between the physical water and the astral matter which interpenetrates it.

I pause for a moment on the phrase “words of power.” The whole understanding and use of such words depends on the fact that every sound causes certain definite vibrations. Wherever there is a sound there is a correlated vibration. Now a mantra, or word of power, is a certain definite succession of sounds made by an Occultist in order to bring about certain definite results. That is as much a scientific fact as a fact that none of you would challenge—that you can by producing a musical note set up vibrations in a glass or rod or string which is sympathetic. You remember the experiments of Tyndall. He would show how by a certain sound you could shiver a piece of glass. What really happens? The glass begins to vibrate. As the vibrations are made by the note, it repeats them; if it is more than the glass can respond to, the particles are torn asunder and the glass is broken. Exactly a similar line of thought conducts you to the use and meaning of the mantra. The Occultist tries certain sounds. He finds out what are the sounds that bring about the vibrations that he desires. Having discovered that experimentally, he puts those sounds into a definite order and then gives a sentence which will reproduce that sequence of sounds whenever the sentence is uttered. This sequence of sounds causes vibrations, which in their turn set up vibrations in the subtle bodies. The more the mantra is repeated, the more powerful the result. Hence the use of repetition that you find so much in Church formulæ. Hence the use of the rosary, so that you may not have the jar of counting in producing the vibrations that you require. Now it is obvious that a mantra cannot be translated without losing part of its power. It may still have a power from the thought which is in it, but the sequence of sounds is affected. Hence the special value of the mantra apart from the thought which the words embody. Hence the wisdom of the Greek and Roman Catholic Churches in using their words of power as given by the Occultists who devised them. Unfortunately, in the Reformation, occult knowledge being at a discount, it was thought you could translate the words of power without losing the effect. You keep the effect caused by the thought; you lose a very large part of the mechanical effect caused by the sounds. What is lost of ordinary mechanical effect has to be brought about by devotion or will-power; whereas if you produce the vibrations mechanically, you then have all your devotion and will-power left undiminished to bring about the higher results. There is the value of the scientific ways of dealing with the bodies. It is not a question of consciousness now, but of the bodies, and only secondarily of the effect on the consciousness of the vibrations of the bodies; yet that also cannot be left out. Just as a change in consciousness brings about a certain vibration, so does a vibration bring about a corresponding change in consciousness. Hence to set up right vibrations helps the consciousness to remain in a certain condition, and we naturally find that in the Greek and Roman Catholic Churches the effects produced by the words of the sacrament are greater than these produced in Churches where the words of power are translated. One advantage that comes out of that is that, in the first case, where the priest is using the words that themselves make the vibrations, the man’s character, devotion, and knowledge are not as important as they are in the case where the mechanical effect is lost, and the priest must supply by his own devotion and will-power that which could be more readily produced by the mantra. It is out of that that has come the statement that the unworthiness of the priest does not destroy the worth of the sacrament. Certainly it is not as potent where the priest is unworthy, but where the mechanism is perfect, the worker not being perfect is less important.

Now if a clairvoyant watches what is done when a sacrament is taking place, he sees that on the repetition of the words of consecration and the making of the sign of power a visible change occurs in the consecrated object. It is most marked if we turn to the Mass, or Holy Communion. You have there on the altar the sacred elements—the bread and the wine. According to the Roman Catholic doctrine, at the words of power, what is called “transubstantiation” takes place. That teaching has been very much misunderstood by the ordinary Protestant. He does not realise that in every visible object there is an invisible and formative idea; that that idea, working along ordinary lines, produces one of the ordinary objects that you see around you; but that if the idea be changed by the use of a word of power, a mantra, that that change of the idea produces a change of astral matter, and in the etheric and even dense physical matter also a change of vibration is set up. And although it is true that in the densest matter the vibration is not powerful enough to alter the arrangement of the particles, it is true that in all the most important part of that object a change has occurred, and it is that change which is indicated by the word “transubstantiation.” No instructed Roman Catholic ever was foolish enough to think anything save that which I am now putting to you. Now if that idea seems strange, let me remind you of a simple fact which will throw light on the whole thing. Students of organic chemistry are familiar with isometric compounds. Those compounds are made up of exactly the same number of the same chemical elements. Nevertheless, the chemist will tell you that according to the inner arrangement of those elements will be the qualities of the thing. You may have in some of the higher carbon compounds (even so low down as where you have entering into the base only four carbon atoms) an arrangement or rearrangement of those elements such as to give you entirely different qualities—in one case a poison, in the other harmless. That change of arrangement makes all the difference. Is it so strange, then, that in changing the inner arrangement the qualities change? In the invisible worlds these things can be seen, so that that piece of opaque bread, when the words are spoken, utterly changes in appearance, becoming luminous and shining out in every direction. Now the moment one sees that, one begins to realise what a sacrament means from the material standpoint. You are dealing with an object that can be changed in its qualities. You are reconstituting the subtle portions of that by the forces you are bringing to bear on it. With what object? In order that, from the planes above the mental, spiritual power pouring down may find a vehicle which is able to assimilate it and carry it down to the densest plane of matter, and by that vehicle may be passed on to those who are partakers of the sacrament. And not only do you see that change appearing in the elements, but you see also that that change draws to the altar numbers of those whom the Hindūs call Devas, and the Christians call Angels, who lend their powers to the helping of the worshippers, and change the atmosphere of the whole place to which they throng.

Now the moment anyone sees this, he realises that much has to come back to some of the religious sects of the West in order to make them what they ought to be. And the result of losing sight of all this inner part of the Christian ceremonies, rites, and formulæ has been the tendency to grow more and more materialistic, until you find that the ordinary Protestant knows of nothing as between himself and God, nothing of the work of all that mighty hierarchy of spiritual intelligences who form the ladder between earth and heaven. Hence the gradual disappearance from the modern mind of the teaching of the ministry of Angels. How much of it has slipped out of knowledge, and how much all life has lost of beauty by the passing away of these links between the higher and lower worlds. When a person takes the sacrament, you have there the actual physical touch all along the material lines, a real purification of the body as well as illumination of the intelligence. But you may say: “Does it all turn on this outward ceremony—these words and signs?” No. There is, in addition to that, in the consciousness of the worshipper, a tremendous potency which assimilates that which pours down from the higher worlds. And although it be true that that potency is very much more readily assimilated when all the material coverings have been tuned and made ready to receive it, none the less is it also true that even where that part of the sacrament is wanting it is a veritable means of grace to those who realise the inner meaning, although not understanding the importance of the outer form. I think that there is little doubt that, as Occultism spreads, this will all come back to the Churches; for it is part of the Theosophical mission to restore that which has been lost, to bring to knowledge again that which has been forgotten.

And there are also other things in relation to this which will come into modern life again as the truth of the sacrament is recognised. So many discussions there have been about the Apostolic Succession, the passing of power from one to another by a sacrament, not recognised as a sacrament in some part of the Anglican Church, but recognised by the Roman Catholic Church as the Sacrament of Holy Orders. There, again, a physical passing of magnetism; there, again, a definite succession, a hierarchy which is an image of the hierarchy in higher worlds. For always religions have reflexions of the realities of the higher worlds, and these reflexions have their power and their use. Now, in the ordinary Protestant community, and even in the great Anglican Church itself, only two sacraments are normally recognised—the sacrament of the altar and that of the font. Outside those, as you know, the Greek and Roman Catholic Churches have others in addition to that of Holy Orders above mentioned—all of them, from the standpoint of the sacramental life, important. They have the Sacrament of Confirmation; but that ought surely to be recognised as a sacrament everywhere, for you have there the essential parts of the sacrament and the conveying of a spiritual power. So also they have the Sacrament of Penance, in which the spiritual power is again conveyed which enables the penitent by effort and repentance to regain spiritual strength when it has been injured by sin. So you have also the Sacrament of Matrimony, and the loss of the sacramental side of marriage has led very largely to its degradation in Protestant countries. So also the Sacrament of Extreme Unction, which is, curiously enough, coming back among Protestants. Look at the accounts of the Guilds of Healing established in the Church—no less than three in the Anglican community. They have restored the sacramental use of oil, founding themselves upon a passage in the New Testament: “Is any sick, let him call the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord”—a sacramental act. You have the oil as the vehicle of the magnetism, the name of the Lord as the word of power, and in putting on the oil ever the sign of the Cross is used. Now it is a very significant thing that that has been brought back definitely by members of the Anglican Church, priests and laity, to-day; and one wonders very much why in the Roman Catholic community, with the occult knowledge of its leaders, it has that use of sacramental oil only at the death-moment, when its great value cannot be utilised. That is one of the points I cannot quite make out in studying the ritual of the Roman Catholic Church.[4]

Now, supposing that you recognise that fact of a sacrament, how would it affect your ordinary daily life? It would gradually discipline your mind to realise that all life is sacramental, rightly understood; that every outer action should be connected with a spiritual truth; and in this way all your actions would cease to be hindrances, and would tend to become helpers. Among the Hindūs this is largely recognised, for all the great actions of the daily life with them are sacramental. Every true Hindū, on waking, prays that as his eyes open to the light of the day, so his Spirit may open to the light of the inner Self. In his daily bath, as he pours the water over his body, his prayer is, that as the water washes the body, so may the mind be cleansed and the heart purified. All the bodily actions are consecrated as the reflexions of the spiritual life, and the effect of that is to make a disciplined, self-controlled, balanced character. The daily training gradually makes the whole life orderly; and it is not without significance that in the religions where the sacramental life is realised, there it is that you find the type of character that all speak of as the Saint—a man who is ever alive to the realities of the higher world; the man who lives in the Spirit, although also living in the body.

Now I said that this idea was connected with the Mysteries and with the Grail. Let me try and show you how; and in this I am using the thought of the great French writer, Schuré, who, writing on the mystical idea in the music of Wagner, pointed out the close resemblances and differences between the sacrifice of the Mass and the legend of the Grail. Now it is a historical fact, apparently, that with the disappearance of the Mysteries from Europe and the Christian Church, this legend began slowly to work its way among the European nations. There were the Mysteries of Jesus, and those played in the Christian Church exactly the same part that is played by the Yoga training, say, in Hindūism or Buddhism. There was the life of the ordinary sacraments for the ordinary believer. Those were the means whereby the true believer came into touch with the higher worlds. But when a man had learned all he could in the outer circle of the Church, when he had used the sacramental means of grace so that he was able to say that his life was pure, that he had been “for a long time conscious of no transgression,” then he was allowed to present himself as candidate for the Mysteries of Jesus. Within those Mysteries the realities replaced the outer mechanism of the sacrament. There, no longer by gift from without, as in the sacrament, but by effort and struggle the vision of the spiritual life was attained. And when those Mysteries passed away, not because there were not teachers, but because there were no pupils ready to be taught, then it was that this story of the Grail was given as an announcement, however veiled, that the ancient Path still remained open to the worthy aspirant. For what is the inner meaning of the Grail, and how do the main points of it connect with the Christian sacrament? Different, yet similar. In the one it is the outer form of bread and wine, symbolising the body and blood of Christ; in the other, the sacred cup, in which it was said that once a year the blood of Christ shone out with brilliant and purifying light. In both an outer symbol. But in the sacrament that outer symbol is given to the believer, and, without effort of his own, the greater Self outside him gives to the weaker Self within. But in the Grail it is by effort and struggle, by temptation and resistance, that the vision becomes possible. He has entered on the Path where outer aid is withdrawn, and where the inner power must replace the outer assistance. In the Church sacrament, faith is the means whereby the truth must be attained. In the inner, vision and knowledge take the place of faith, for the successful knight sees the vision of the Grail—the Cup, with all its glory, is revealed before him. And so in the outer a dogma is taught, in the inner there is knowledge. But what is a dogma? Knowledge imposed by authority. In the Grail it is an inner revelation, a true initiation into the Mysteries; and it is that inner revelation which takes the place of dogma, a revelation which comes by inner illumination instead of being taught by the outer authority of a Church. And so you find that in that vision the dove appears—symbol of inspiration. The inspiration of the inner revelation is ever there, and that inner revelation belongs to the body of the Initiates, the elect out of all humanity. They hand it on to the world outside, that which is knowledge to them becoming dogma to the outer world. And so you can see that in the Grail legend the teaching of the Mysteries was symbolically conveyed, and those who were able to pierce through the meaning of the legend had their feet placed upon the Path where the symbols became reality; the principle running through was identical. And so the lesson was taught that for those who cannot yet themselves build a bridge to the higher world, the outer sacrament is given as the bridge to unite the two; but when the man is able to make his own bridge, the sacrament for him is no longer necessary. He can reach the worlds above without the assistance of the bridge, and then he becomes the Knight of the Grail. That is still true. The Churches must ever give the sacraments, because the masses of their believers are not yet evolved enough to be able to build their own bridge. For those who have reached the point in spiritual manhood where the other worlds are known and are ever present in consciousness, for them the value of the sacrament is over, and the reality of the inner life no longer needs the grace that is conveyed by the sacrament.

Now if you realise the facts I have been putting to you, if you understand what the sacrament means and what its value is, you will never speak lightly, contemptuously of it, remembering that those who need it receive in it a real power, and that those who have gone beyond that necessity are those who are ever the tenderest to the souls that still require it, and are careful that with their wisdom they do not bewilder the ignorant, that they do not lessen the means of grace for those who are unable to reach knowledge for themselves. And inasmuch as it is the duty of the members of the Theosophical Society to know these facts of the different worlds, and to use them for the helping of others, they have the duty of trying to bring back the realisation of all the immense value which may be found in these rites which are little understood by the more skeptical communities to-day. That your mission and your privilege. Whether in your own religious communities you still find help or not in these outer veils of spiritual things, that is a comparatively small matter. As long as they help you, use them to the utmost; and when you no longer need them, then treat them with the reverence which is due to them, and explain them to those who do not understand them. Not very, very long will pass before all and much more than I am saying to you will become common knowledge in the Churches. Yours the privilege of knowing a little sooner than the outside world; not because you are specially favoured, but in order that you may carry knowledge to the outside world. For every one of you ought to lead the sacramental life, and that means that you shall be a channel by which the spiritual forces shall pour down and spread through you to those who surround you, vivifying and spiritualising the world. That your privilege, from the knowledge that has come to you; that your duty, for knowledge brings responsibility. And just in proportion as you understand the occult truths out of which the esoteric religions have sprung, so will you try to make those religions deeper, more vital, more spiritualising to all that belong to them, so that you may truly act as servants of religion, for such servants every lover of the Divine Wisdom should be.