The One Light asks a question that is simple to state and difficult to settle. When the contemplatives of the world’s traditions describe what they have found at the depth of things, are they describing the same reality? The book answers that they probably are and does so in two movements. Part One builds its case on four mutually supporting observations. First, the convergence of the fruits: across traditions with no historical contact and no shared vocabulary, those regarded as having gone fur…
Read moreThe One Light asks a question that is simple to state and difficult to settle. When the contemplatives of the world’s traditions describe what they have found at the depth of things, are they describing the same reality? The book answers that they probably are and does so in two movements. Part One builds its case on four mutually supporting observations. First, the convergence of the fruits: across traditions with no historical contact and no shared vocabulary, those regarded as having gone furthest are described in strikingly similar terms — a combination of serenity and intensity, of detachment and compassion, of fearlessness before death and tenderness before suffering. Second, the convergence of the methods: the disciplines independently evolved to bring that transformation about are far more alike than the doctrines that surround them. The Christian hesychast repeating a prayer in the rhythm of the breath, the Buddhist following the breath, the Hindu repeating a mantra and the Sufi in dhikr differ in what they believe and barely at all in what they do. Third, the convergence of the apophatic moment: wherever the traditions reach towards the ultimate they reach, at the limit, for negation — neti neti, the Tao that cannot be named, the Godhead beyond God, the emptiness that is also fullness. That traditions with utterly different positive doctrines agree at their deepest point that the positive doctrines fail is among the most remarkable facts in the history of religion. Fourth, a structural expectation: if there is an ultimate reality and human beings can make real but partial contact with it, the pattern the traditions display is precisely the pattern one would predict. Part Two belongs to the old genre of the manual of the devout life. It treats stillness and prayer, detachment, humility, love, attentiveness, discernment, conscience, reading and listening, the body, gratitude, beauty and friendship, and it handles the vexed question of teachers and communities at length and without sentimentality. It then turns to the trials — the withdrawal of consolation, the subtle traps by which the ego appropriates the way, perseverance, surrender — and to the way within an ordinary life of work, money and dependants, closing with a rule of life, the use of suffering and the hour of death.