The Cosmic Cross

In Kundalini yoga, for example, the energy which we associate with sexuality, and fertility in general, which is symbolized by a serpent which lies coiled up at the base of the spine, in the region of sexual organs, is aroused, but also transformed into a conscious energy. Art in that sense, as all culture, comes out of this energy as a sublimated form of this life force. It is in this sense that we are to understand the mysterious injunction that “the serpent should be lifted up”. The serpent is a creature which lives on the ground, or even under the ground, in holes which lead to the very heart of the earth. But this serpent can also lift itself up, and on occasion is seen to climb up into the branches of a tree. The image of a snake wrapped round another snake, or a vertical staff is found in very ancient cultures both in India and in Europe, and symbolizes a process of healing (the art of medicine has from Greek times has been characterized by this figure of a serpent twined round a vertical pole).

Serpent lifted up.

The figure of Christ on the cross, has from ancient times been associated with the sign of the brazen serpent which Moses lifted up in the desert, as a sign of healing. The cross, let us also not forget, is itself a Mandala, and in many representations of the Cross of Salvation, the vertical and horizontal intersecting lines of the cross are set within a circle, which stands for wholeness.

Mandalas and Meditation

In the following reflections on the Yoga of the heart, which I began working on when I first went to live at Kurisumala Ashram in 1967, and also started painting a series of Christian Mandalas, try to relate the structure of the Icon to the process whereby the vertical and horizontal aspects of reality come together. I remember even before I went to Art school in London, when I was about 14 years old, and had just been baptized into the Catholic Church, I tried to make a series of symbolic sketches of Gospel scenes, placed within a kind of Mandala structure. This was particularly possible when thinking about the Gospel of St. John. The Mandala as a way of presenting narrative events is a well known method of representation in the Indian tradition.

Finally, mention might be made of the Russian icon type called “In Thee Rejoiceth O Gracious One” which originated as late as the 15th Century, and derived from an anthem in the Eastern Christian Liturgy. This icon is very close too the Mandala in its structure, which is used in the East to lead the mind of the worshipper towards concentration, or, as it is often termed “One-pointedness” We see in the centre of this image a structure that represents the Church, where, in a circle, is enthroned Mary, and on her lap the child Jesus. Around the Church is painted a garden. Above is the traditional “Sabaoth Lord God”, with “Emanuel the Child” in His bosom, and in the child’s breast the Dove symbolizing the Holy Spirit. This image is essentially an image of the Glory of God, and depicts in a visual form the Doxology that is the centre of the liturgical act of worship. Here we find an image of the Trinity, in relation to the spiritual life of the Church. Between above and below there is a connection, as between the heavenly and earthly Jerusalem. The icon is not just something static. It represents an act of transformation, where that which is transcendent, beyond the power of the imagination to conceptualise, is given a form that enters the heart and focuses our yearning for the Light. In the human presence of Mary we find a reflection of our own humanity, and it is this humanity which is being lifted up, and transformed by the spiritual force that is symbolized by the Spirit. If the structure of the icon represents the incarnation, and the humanity of Jesus born into the cave of the human heart, the light which illumines the icon, is the transforming power of the Holy Spirit, that gives breath and life to the whole of creation.

Viewing the icon as a process of internalisation.

This duality of the heart is common to all Christian, Hindu and Buddhist thought. In Christian tradition, though only one heart is mentioned, its dual function is clearly defined. There is the carnal heart, which must die, and there is also the spiritual heart in which the day-star has risen. Ramana Maharshi warned his disciples not to think of the heart in a particular place, whether inside or outside the body, for it is the Reality. So if we have differentiated two hearts, heavenly and carnal, it is in an effort to distinquish the two aspects of Reality. The heavenly heart must descend and replace the carnal heart. The Chinese landscape painting celebrated, as is well known, not so much exterior reality as the lay of land within our souls. Hence a Chinese landscape must have the “Yang-Yin”
principles. The “Yang” principle is associated symbolically with the masculine, light principle, whereas in contrast the “Yin” aspect of reality is associated with the feminine, dark principle. The image of the water fall, which we often find in landscape paintings on Chinese hanging scrolls, is supposed to represent the descent of the heavenly principle onto the earthly plane. In Indian mythology we also find the theme of the “descent of the River Ganges” depicted, for example in the Pallava rock sculpture of Mahaballipuram. Bhagirath, the archetypal Guru, sits at the door of the cave of the heart, bringing down from heaven the beneficence of Grace, for the salvation and forgiveness of Creation, which has lost its link with the source of life that lies beyond the cosmos. In Tribal cultures in India, we hear also of a ladder linking the earth to the heavens. According to the Khasi myth of the north west hills, it was down this ladder of light that the first inhabitants of this planet came, carrying with them seeds with which they cultivated the earth. But finally, the tree of darkness plunged the earth into chaos, and when the first tribal peoples tried to cut down this tree, so that their crops might have the light that they needed to grow, they also inadvertently cut the ladder that connects earth to heaven.

I would suggest that a similar idea of the linking of what is above, with what is below, is found in the structure of the icon. In the icon of the Nativity, for example, the child Jesus is born in the cave of the heart, and in the sky above, the star (bindu, or “heavenly heart”), sheds a pencil of light, which penetrates the dark cave, where the child is lying in the manger by his Mother, and amidst the shadowy forms of animals. The three wise men follow this star, that is they concentrate their gaze upon the point of light (or, as the Meister Eckhart called it, the “Soul-spark”) which leads them down to the cave in Bethlehem, where God has become flesh. It is also important to recall here Eckhart’s teaching on the birth of God in the heart. Interesting too is the presence of the ox and the ass in the cave. Nowhere in the gospels are these creatures mentioned in the nativity story, yet from Eastern sources of symbolic imagery related to animals, we know that the ox symbolizes the earth, and the horse represents heaven. The ass, one might say, is a humble form of the horse—it is heaven come down in the world! Actually the ass in the Russian icon is nearly invariably depicted like a horse. The ox is often painted red (earth colour) and the ass, or horse is represented as blue or white. (Note: The iconographic tradition of painting the ox and the ass in nativity scenes stems from Isaiah I, 3 : “The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master’s crib; but Israel does not know, my people doth not consider.” In other words, the animal kingdom has often more insight than human beings, who have lost the wisdom of the heart.)

The Yoga of the heart in relation to a Vision of Reality.

It is on account of this interior, psycho-somatic point, that orthodox Hindus put a red spot above the bridge of the nose, between the two eye brows. This painted “bindu” (meaning point, or drop) locates on the surface of the brow the exact place where the so-called “Heavenly Heart” is situated within. The art student in a western art school learns that the vanishing point is situated on an imaginary line which indicates his eye-level, and is in a position directly corresponding to the point between the two eyes. The eyes are attracted along the lines of an avenue towards an apparent infinity in space, but in fact we are attracted because we seek that point of infinity that we shall never reach outside, for it lies in an inner space.

Everybody can see that as far as perspective is concerned the traditional icon seems hopelessly awry. Some suppose that this is because the icon painter knew nothing about the rules of perspective; others say that he did but did not use these rules. It is interesting to note that in the eastern tradition of miniature painting, which we find in Islamic art, but later also in Hindu art, there is a similar point of view, which evokes an interior landscape, rather than a representation of how we see outer reality with our physical eyes. This inner landscape seems to touch a reality that is familiar to the heart, rather than an outer world that we look at in a rational and objective way. The lines in an icon do not tend towards a point within the icon, giving the appearance of depth in the picture, but rather tend towards the heavenly heart within the observer, thus giving the person who is looking at the image a sense of an inner space, which gives form to feeling. When we look at a picture whose perspective gives the appearance of space in the picture itself our eyes are led involuntarily outwards, and into the picture. But those who gaze on the icon, are led in the opposite direction; they are led back to concentrate upon an inner vision, or heart, that lies behind our physical organs of sight.

This inner vision tends to look for the unity that binds things together, rather than the space that divides objects in our outer phenomenal world. This unifying element is a kind of light. So in the same way that we observe a difference in the treatment of perspective in the representation of nature found in the art of the Renaissance, and an earlier art of the icon, we also find a different approach to the way that light is used. An image that represents outer space, tries to create a sense of light, which is virtual, evoked by the use of colour, to create a kind of atmosphere within the image itself. But the icon composes the image in such a way that it radiates light outwards, as though the person looking at the image, is somehow involved in the light that emanates from the image. This is very noticeable in the use of gold in the image, or of the reflecting surfaces of mosaic pieces, which were so arranged that they reflected the light back to the observer. The image now has the quality of a mirror. It seems to reveal the viewer, rather than what is viewed. Sometimes in a temple we find that in place of an image there is just a mirror in the Holy of Holies. The mirror reminds the worshipper than in looking outwards, vision should return, and look back into the heart of the seer.

Between the heavenly heart, and the lower fleshly heart, there is a sort of connection. This is the ancient heaven-and-earth relationship—and conflict too ! According to the Chinese treatise “The Secret of the Golden Flower”, the heavenly heart houses the Primal Spirit which loves stillness, but the fleshly hear is dependent on the outside world. The Fleshly heart is the feeling core—through it we make aesthetic judgements. The heavenly heart, in whose centre the worshipper fully understands the icon, vision is no longer sensual, but has now become a spiritual form of visioning.