Born Anew

“… Traditions hold that gods once inhabited the earth. These gods may not have walked like us nor talked like us. Their language may have been music and what appertains to music. Music and the motion which is life produces the dance. So, originally the dance was sacred. Great esoteric cults, like those of Egypt, strove to maintain it in that form. The priests of that land knew the effects of dancing upon human consciousness, and they knew something of the magic thereof. So for selfish and unselfish reasons, they controlled the arts of their land.

According to the Hindu Vedas the spirit of poetry was in man in most distant times. The ancients did not write because they, as individuals, felt an urge. Rather did they believe that the cosmos was speaking through them. “Sing, goddess,” dominates the works of Homer, and the echo of the ever repeating divine voice became his poetry. “I sing,” croaked Virgil—and who cares? The forms are similar, but Homer sang to his divinities, while Virgil was ever aware of the powers that be on earth. Respect these powers, well and good, but reverence them and the sacredness is gone. Even the symbolic religious dance does not necessarily elevate devotees to a higher state of consciousness. The ancient Bacchantes may have thought so, but until one creates an additional capacity he cannot rise to a new level. How this may be done has already been presented.

There are beautiful rituals in some of the Japanese Shinto cults. They may appeal to the heart, but they soothe rather than elevate. The Japanese ideals instill beauty, but the practical aspects of their nationalistic trends have been contrary even to their own traditional ethics. Yes, Japan has a marvelous politicoethical code (called Bushido), comparable to chivalry. Until recent times it was dominant in statecraft. Now it is gone, and with it so many of the artistic values of the Orient are disappearing.

Both the Christian and Hindu religions possess ceremonies which, if transmuted from the static to the dynamic phase, would become dances, or inspire dance-forms. Christian rites have developed into tremendous dramas, and also have given rise to the music which is characteristic of the West. The Hindus have not stopped there. This, perhaps, because of the reverence paid to the rishis, their holy teachers. Religion has been a never terminating fountain of inspiration to her artists.

There is some evidence that wise men have appeared before all peoples and have instituted dance patterns among them. They saw the magic and potency of it. They used it as a channel for the directing of psychic currents. Those who have witnessed the Hopi snake dances and traced the ensuing rains must admit at least a “coincidental” connection. That is, unless they are rigid egocentric skeptics. It does rain soon after the dance. Sometimes the ceremonies themselves are interrupted by a deluge. Nor does this seem to be an isolated phenomenon. In so many lands, the “magic” of the dance works.

The Hindu Sama Veda is more than a book. We may wonder why hymns have been repeated, ad nauseam, in sacred Sanskrit works. The reason is that they were used for different purposes. The Rik was for the Yogi, the Yajur for the scientist and magician, the Artharvan for the masses, while the Sama Veda was for all classes of artist, most of all for musicians of every type. One repeated Rik verses to unite with the gods, or mount higher. One repeated Sama in order to serve the gods on earth. A Hercules in Greece, a Vyasa in India, a Homer in Greece, a Narada in India, a David in Palestine—the means and the ends were not so far distant.

The dance purportedly enabled the artists of the age to become apsaras and gandharvas while still in the flesh. The theory was that man occupies more than one body. The music was supposed to vibrate the finer bodies and to instill them with life and movement. The art-form included theme, concentration, devotion and Samadhi—that is to say, a state of consciousness in which the self and non-self became as one. Dr. Ananda Coomaraswamy has explained this in his The Dance of Siva. In our day, too, the scholastic mystics of Eire have sought to reawaken forgotten “truths.” Traditions which die hard must have life beneath them. Why is the metaphysics of James Stephens almost identical with that of the Sufis? Why does A.E. respect the rishis and devas? How could Yeats bring back ancient esoteric teachings (in The Vision), unless there be a universal divine spirit, not limited to time or clime!?

So if it be asked: “Can we today perform a sacred dance?” it may be answered in the words of a modern rishi: “Yes! yes! yes!” (See the Agni Yoga Series, Agni Yoga Press, N.Y.) Hold before our heart’s eye the vision of divinity, the feeling of divinity, the spirit of divinity, and divinity we shall become. We can partake of the cup of nectar; we can again turn into Ganymedes to pour and quaff the Olympian ambrosia. Nevertheless, we must be willing to embrace the divine Sarasvati, goddess of music and art, even as Kali, the monster. When heaven and hell are found within and recognized as but small portions of our being, we can become as gods and move and whirl. We may express all that is and was and will be; the veil of Isis again may be lifted.

How much of this can be imparted, it is difficult to say. Certainly a laughing, applauding, self-conscious though appreciative audience will not behold, though they have keen ears and eyes. Goodwill will bring them nearer to the dancer but not to Him Who is the Spirit of the dancer. When we watch in wonder, in silence, in reverence, then the Holy Spirit may be manifesting to and through that person who is performing before us and can communicate blessing to us. The term “mystery” connotes silent lips and open eyes. The uninitiated could not partake of the mysteries; this was true yesterday, is true today, will be true tomorrow.

The dance of Siva stands out preeminently as one in which the performers, be they soloists or troupe, must feel the presence of God, however they conceive Him, whatever be their worship. It is primarily for Yogis. Here we would interpret this word in its broadest sense to include all who unite in some fashion with the Godhead and who partake of a Holy Communion. When it degrades into mere imitativeness, it is the dance of Hanuman, the monkey-divinity, regardless of its title. One who has not tasted of ecstasy, or gone even beyond that, will never successfully introduce this dance.

But man, the Bible tells us, should not dwell alone. He requires a mate. So however perfect, however beneficial, however supreme be the dance of Siva, for our daily lives we need practical love and human recognition. Therefore the wise invented Ras Lila, the perfect dance for man and woman, joined by love and by holy communion. To perform it the man should regard his woman partner as the embodiment of divinity, and the woman should regard her male partner as the embodiment of divinity. Lingam and Yoni, Siva and Shakti, here appear at their best. The forces of nature, life and sex are spiritualized. Call it a phallic dance, it is a phallic dance. See in it the dance of life; it is the dance of life. In it the twain become one.

In the dance of Siva, heart and mind behold perfection. When Krishna and Radha render Ras Lila, the eyes of the body also perceive perfection. In it man and woman harmonize, and in the highest sense. They give and receive all that they regard as holy. They complement one another, so that two seemingly imperfect beings constitute the nexus of perfection.

Ras Lila is for lovers, sweethearts, wedded couples, else it must be performed only in the highest devotional spirit. The currents should be directed upward as to God, never to the partner. Thus, this dance belongs to Tao, the Supreme, and not to Yin or Yang. Kemal, perfection, holds forth here, rather than Jelal, majesty, or Jemal, beauty. Yes, Krishna has been regarded as the perfect embodiment of all qualities, including sexual and psychic power. We can follow him there. But a debased Krishna worship becomes a superstition-mongering phallicism. We ought to remember that the wise came to elevate mankind to divinity, not to be worshipped themselves.

The influence of India has spread to Java, Bali, Tibet and other countries. In many of them we still find sacred dances. We can recognize Yang and Yin, or Siva and Shakti, in the dances of Bali. The Malayans seem impelled by nature to the dictum that art is religion. They are not philosophers or metaphysicians. Whatever they be otherwise, in aesthetics they are supreme.

The sacred dance is still an important institution in Tibet. There, there are priests specially trained for it. In great monasteries, as at Hemis, in Ladakh, mighty religious pageants and dramas are presented under a dance form. One can witness lamaistic counterparts at the Christian Passion Play and the Islamic Martyrdom of Hasan and Hussein. The participants have to undergo rigid disciplines and instructions. The immediate ideal does not always seem so noble to foreigners, but the same universal spirit is there.

Tibetan dances are replete with symbolism. The dramatic skeleton is not strictly historical. The religion with which they are connected is a branch of Mahayana, the Buddhism of the great vehicle. Its culture is not so strictly divided into artistic, philosophical and scientific aspects as our learning is. The religion has its spiritual, psychic and magical facets which are not easily distinguished, so much do they overlap and blend. Its sacred books are often dramatic in form and have tremendously stimulated the arts.

Hinduistic influence has extended to the puppet plays of the Far East. They are generally based upon the Scriptures and poetical works of that people. Next to the Vedas, the Mahabharata, Ramayana and Gita Govinda have been valuable sources for inspirations that have developed into sacred dances and sacred arts. Javanese puppetry has well preserved relics of Hinduism, and this art lies very close to the dance.

The Hebrew people worked along other lines. Often their religion and art seem far apart. Yet David with his psalms and the Levites with their chul and hagg, implanted important seeds. These seeds seem to sprout now and again as if they drew sustenance from an “undying fire.” An excellent example of this is the Chassidic movement which spread among the Jewish people in the eighteenth century.

Chassidism has been reviled more than studied even by the Hebrews themselves. What is not understood in mysticism and spirituality is only too easily called superstition and charlatanry. Yes, the Chassids did fall into errors which proved to be death-blows. The spirit of the prophet was accompanied by the function of the priest. Their Zadiks came as holy men and went as ecclesiasts. A pure Chassidism might have rescued Israel from the shackles of orthodoxy and “Ghettoism;” an impure Chassidism defiles and defines the very meaning of the word.

The Chassid is literally the “pure one.” Chassidism has risen and fallen again and again in Israel. It is based upon the union of mysticism and practicality. Religion and joy were parts of one whole. And these Chassids expressed their joy in the dance. This dance was born of mystical ecstasy. And it took on substantially the same form under which it manifested among the Sufis and their forebears, the Bacchantes, Egyptians and devotees of India. Given certain concentrations, devotions, attitudes and the cultivation of holy ecstasy, a definite mystical state will be induced. The body is then affected and moves out in regular lines of force. The forces of the cosmos seem to be there, to impress the devotees who feel that they are in the presence of God, and so express themselves. Regardless of the religious covering, the psychological and mystical elements are the same. It is no wonder that the resulting art-forms are similar.

Apart from the strictly mystical stream, Hebrew traditions are not devoid of possibilities. Zemach has been demonstrating this. His dances are vital and vitalizing. He has added to the world’s store of culture. When the world recovers from its insanity and the Jewish people rise above their materialism, we may expect many Zemachs, in Palestine and out.

Indeed, we look for a universal spiritual-aesthetic revival. The cultivation of ecstasy and attainment of superconsciousness are steps on the way. We are here to complete our humanity, not to avoid it. Therefore, we must hold before ourselves the idea of the holiness of man and the sacredness of the body. Institutions, themes, forms and ideas are inferior to man, for man was created by God, and these things made by man. As man grows in understanding, in consideration and in compassion, spiritual art will unfold itself accordingly. Man’s heart-awakening must come first.

A warning note should be expressed here; if the dance or any art be cultivated for psychic or magical purposes, the world will not evolve, it will retrogress. On the other hand, if there is the hoped-for spiritual awakening, then all the arts will reach a higher status. Perhaps then the magic, the psychic powers, the unknown forces and faculties will appear as if quite natural. With the coming of the Kingdom of God in the human heart many marvels will be added.

This will lead to contemplation, that most profound of practices. In it man assumes the Omniscience and Omnipresence of God to begin with, and holds it ever before him. Therein prayer, meditation and concentration unite. There is no distinction of religion or even of personality. The mortal is elevated toward immortality. In a sense the resurrection may be experienced without any departure from the body. “Ye must be born anew,” said the Master. “We must be born anew, we shall be born anew” is the echo of the coming dawn…”

~ Murshid Samuel L. Lewis, Spiritual Dancing, Chap. 13
Samuel L. Lewis aka Sufi Sam aka Sufi Ahmed Murad Chisti (1896 –1971) was an American mystic and horticultural scientist who founded what became the Sufi Ruhaniat International, a branch of the Chishtia Sufi lineage. After a lifetime of spiritual study with teachers East and West, primarily Hazrat Inayat Khan and Nyogen Senzaki, Lewis was recognized simultaneously as a Zen master and Sufi murshid (senior teacher) by Eastern representatives of the two traditions. He also co-founded the Christian mystical order called the The Holy Order of Mans. His early interest in international seed exchange and organic agriculture also established him as one of the pioneers of green spirituality. His most enduring legacy may be the creation of the Dances of Universal Peace, an early interspiritual practice that has spread around the world in the 46 years since his passing.