Prologue
“Many believe,” the elderly and sedate rabbi told Phil, “the second Axial Age has begun. In the first Axial Age, two radical events occurred. First, the civilization at that time shifted from a nomadic hunter-gathering and horticultural society to an agricultural and town or city-based society. Secondly, the great saints brought religion to a new plateau of spirituality.”
Natalie, a social worker, Phil’s love-interest and companion on many of his spiritual adventures, invited the visiting Rabbi Epstein to talk to them. They sat around a tea service in Natalie’s cozy front room. Knick-knacks and mementos filled the flat surfaces of the room, enhancing and warming the space with the reminders of a life well lived.
Through the corner windows, the night held the condo park in a slumbering embrace. Streetlights made small islands of amber to aid the dog-walkers and strollers in the warm night air.
Natalie was an elegant Jewish woman, sturdy of frame with delicate facial features. She wore her long hair loose, and it spilled over her lavender sweatshirt. Phil oftentimes wondered at his luck in developing a relationship with her. But, truth be known, it was apparently a fated meeting. His ‘friends’ in the spirit world wanted to see this relationship unfold.
Phil ran a hand through his thinning hair and looked at the rabbi with piercing brown eyes and noted, “The equivalent of the Buddha, the Prophets, or Lao Tzu have yet to appear on the contemporary scene.”
“True enough, but the inter-faith dialogues now occurring do create the preconditions -- the fertile ground, so to speak -- for not only the appearance of the new saints, but also their acceptance,” the rabbi countered.
“And the religious wars?”
“They give those dialogues their urgency.”
Natalie poured more tea into their cups and observed, “I can see how you would think the Axial Age began this time with the shift in society from agriculture to industry. An agrarian culture reached its perfect structure when Mohammed unified the Arab tribes and enjoined them to peace, cooperation, tolerance, and charity. He preached an egalitarian message his followers tried to perfect in their communities. Capitalism, however, requires competition.”
“In the marketplace, yes,” the rabbi replied, sipping the tea, “but in each factory or business office it requires a level of cooperation, diversity, and ingenuity a rural economy could not even dream of.”
“Unlike agriculture,” Phil said, “which only needs to refine what’s been done for centuries, industry requires a whole different skill set.”
“Exactly. Agriculture didn’t need an educated population, or democracy, or civil liberties, or religious freedom, or the separation of church and state, or even the doctrine of government deriving its power from those governed.”
“The divine right of kings was sufficient,” Natalie surmised.
“It was probably necessary. A top-down structure provides optimum security for an agricultural society.”
The rabbi was a visiting celebrity on a tour to promote his book about the new Axial Age. Natalie snagged him at the synagogue, promising him a home-cooked meal and lively conversation.
Phil was reluctant to brief the rabbi on his role in the world of Spirit, which was to catalyze the new Axial Age. It sounded too grandiose, even though it was what was happening. Apparently, Natalie wasn’t so cautious.
She said, “Our goal is to build on those preconditions for change and help usher in the next phase of the Axial Age. What would be the best way to do so?”
The rabbi rubbed his gray-bearded chin and spoke tentatively for the first time, “Your rabbi spoke to me about this. I’m not sure I understand your mission, but to answer your question: I view the next phase as requiring two elements -- a sustainable economy and a revival of mysticism. The closest mankind has come to the latter was, as you alluded to earlier, in Moslem societies ruled by a sultan’s court but administered by agents of the Sharia, which provided a counter-force to autocracy. In religion, the mysticism of the Sufis was encouraged, historically, so that the five practices of Islam were rooted in a deep interiority available to each Moslem man and woman.”
“It’s the balance of those three,” Phil concluded. “Government, law, and religion.”
“More than balance, perhaps. A synthesis would be more accurate.”
Natalie took up the thread, “We have nothing like that now.”
The rabbi smiled, “You have its shadow side with fundamentalist Christians trying to hijack the political process and Islamo-terrorists trying to tear it all down. The Sufis, of course, have been marginalized.”
She asked, “How would mystics do it differently?”
“Mystics see the All-in-One, One-in-All paradox. They have always, therefore, promoted the cause of social justice and social welfare.”
“If you do it for the least of my brethren, you do it for me,” Phil quoted a phrase attributed to Jesus.
“Exactly. The mystic is the champion of the poor, the widows and orphans; the sick, the weak and the infirm; the troubled, the outcasts and the stranger at the door.”
“You’re saying,” Phil summarized, “the prerequisite to the launching of the new Axial Age is to promote mysticism.”
“And the sustainable economy.”
Natalie said with a soft smile, “We are working towards both. What would you add?”
The rabbi scratched his beard again and answered, “What I see as the glaring deficiency in U.S. culture is the absence of elders as a social class with the duties and responsibilities other cultures expect of elders.”
“What kind of duties?” Natalie probed.
“Well, Native Americans say that when you’re in your Sixties, you mentor youth. When in your Seventies, you are guardians and teachers of the traditions of the tribe. When in your Eighties, you do whatever you want because you no longer travel exclusively in this world.”
“That’s one way to define a mystic,” Natalie pointed out. "The mystic is a citizen of two worlds."
“Or a shaman,” Phil said, “which I suppose could be the same thing.”
“The point,” the rabbi emphasized, “is we have no elder-in-training program. If Boomers are to live up to their own billing, their own high expectations, they must become the elders this culture desperately needs.”
Natalie and Phil, both of whom were of the Boomer generation, considered the rabbi’s challenge for a few moments.
Then Natalie asked, “How would you structure this elder-in-training program?”
The rabbi smiled, “I would use the Sufi program. I might not advertize it as such -- what with the extreme ignorance and fear Westerners have about Islam, but the Sufi path is clear, simple and quite a delightful process.”
Natalie looked at Phil, who drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Then he said, “It looks like we are called to the quest again.”
“Our new challenge is defined,” Natalie concurred.
“Thank you, rabbi,” Phil smiled.
