Book Review: "In the Company of Sages: The Journey of the Spiritual Seeker" by Greg Bogart

Spiritual enlightenment is something that many of us seek, and throughout our lives we are looking to others to help us along the way. If one of my clients asked me, “How do I find a spiritual teacher or guide?” I honestly wouldn’t know where to begin. Luckily, Greg Bogart’s book, In the Company of Sages: The Journey of a Spiritual Seeker, can help people find the right teacher.

This process is much more complicated than it seems, however, and Bogart does a great job of bringing his own experiences on his personal journey into the entire work. He draws from many different spiritual paths of both Eastern and Western spirituality and mysticism, so you don’t necessarily have to be familiar with one particular way of doing things.

One of the challenges of reading this book for me was its length. At 280 pages, not including the glossary, extensive bibliography—the entire book is thoroughly sourced—and an index, it can seem rather intimidating. The author uses plenty of stories and details to paint an extremely vivid picture of his own search for a guru. While autobiographical, the book is very objective and is far more than just a collection of spiritual stories.

Bogart has compiled a cogent work that delineates this entire process into nine distinct stages, from choosing a teacher, through the process of learning from one, testing, awakening, separating from the teacher, and then becoming a teacher to others.

One portion of the book that I didn’t necessarily agree with was the secrecy of the initiation process in Stage Two. Bogart points out that in many cultures, initiation rites were secret to protect them and to make the experience more meaningful. While I can understand and appreciate these points, I think a lot of folks from the west would have difficulty with the idea of a secret initiation ceremony considering the many wrongs that have been done and kept secret by members of the clergy over the years. A ceremony can be meaningful without being secret, and while initiations are not something that just anyone should be able to come and watch, there must be safeguards in place to protect the physical safety and dignity of the seeker.

As a spiritual teacher myself, I found the portions on when to leave a teacher—“Stage Seven: Separating from a Spiritual Teacher”—to be interesting and valuable. Bogart correctly points out that separation from a teacher is inevitable, that the status quo cannot be forever maintained in the relationship. This is actually a good thing, because the student is evolving. Bogart also suggests that those teachers who are most “enlightened” will not attempt to keep their students from leaving. I definitely agree with this last point. When a student is wise enough to decide for himself or herself that it’s time to move on, getting in the way is counterproductive.

This book may not appeal to a lot of people because it is highly specialized, but if you are looking for a book on finding a spiritual teacher, I highly recommend this one. It reminded me of the Nikos Kazantzakis quote: “True teachers are those who use themselves as bridges over which they invite their students to cross; then, having facilitated their crossing, joyfully collapse, encouraging them to create their own.”

For Teachers Everywhere

The bell rings, and we're part of your world. 
You take us on your journey to faraway, foreign places.
Some of us go willingly and enthusiastically. 
Sometimes we make you prove you know your stuff. 
There are days when we won't shut up, or wish we were someplace else. 
But you stand in that room, and you carry on, hoping we will follow. 

You evaluate us, and it brings out the range of our emotions. 
Tests and quizzes, papers and projects, homework and homework and homework. 
We question why you would have us do it, and yet we have the answer:
"Because we have to."
The hours are long, but so is your patience. 
Day in and day out, we hope you will stop, but you won't. 
You stand in that room, and you carry on, hoping to see the lightbulb go off. 

For a rare few students in every class, the change occurs. 
So hard to see and yet it is so special. 
When the answer is no longer "Because I have to" but "Because I want to". 
Only then do you judge yourself a success. 
It's not measured by banks, exams, or auditors. 
This is greater than the mundane thoughts of money and power. 
You stand in that room, and while your students are many, you teach for but a few.

The next bell rings, and we're off like a shot.
We take the knowledge you gave us, but you know it's up to us how we use it. 
The next class comes in and there's no break for you. 
Another lesson is on tap...another group of minds to mold. 
And like the shore as the waves smash into it constantly, you do not waver, but hold firm. 
You stand in that room, defending your subject against the onslaught of ignorance.

When the classroom is empty and quiet, and you are alone with your grade book, 
it is only then that you realize the true magnitude of what you do. 
You have done work that is sacred, vital, challenging, and essential. 
You have taught for many years, but still, each student is a new experience. 
As the teacher, you are also the student, and with each student you touch, 
you gain something.
You stand in that room, totally alone, but the many and the few are still with you.

Tonight, dear teacher, I write for you.
I write for those whose names I still can recall, and for those many I forgot. 
I write for those who remember my name, and not necessarily because I was a good student.
I write to celebrate you and your sacrifice--
The long hours, the poor pay, and every single barrier to learning that you overcome.
I write because you won't be off this summer, but out earning extra money and planning lessons, 
buying school supplies with your own money and worrying about standardized tests.
And I write because when it comes to thanking the important people in your life, "teacher" isn't usually on the list. 

 

In honor of Sheila Becker Gailius

6/14/2014

The Hierophant and Teaching to Learn

People often ask me why I've chosen the Hierophant as my business name and my email address. I explain to them that the Hierophant is the spiritual teacher. If you want to find out more about the Hierophant, you can check out my blog on him here. Hierophant is also the Greek equivalent of the Latin term pontifex, which is used to designate the Pope of the Catholic Church.

But to me the Hierophant is more than just the teacher or spiritual leader. He's the one front and center on the card, but let's not forget about the two people that are on the Rider-Waite-Smith deck whose faces you cannot see. They are the adepts, the acolytes...people who have chosen to follow him. And it is those who often go unnoticed that I would like to focus on today.

Did you ever think about why people teach? Well...they certainly don't do it for the money, at least in the public schools. Those individuals have my total respect and admiration, because they're doing a job that is often thankless for barely enough pay. Administrators, parents, and students fight them at every turn, and they're constantly told their charges are not measuring up on ridiculous standard tests that are used later to determine which teachers should keep their jobs. Who in their right mind would want THAT job?

Imagine if you had 25-30 individuals watching you ALL DAY LONG. I'll bet you that you'd be surfing the internet less and not taking long lunches anymore. And they say teaching is the world's second most private act! 

If I had my way, I'd double their salaries immediately and try make it a much more attractive profession. In my humble opinion, it's one of the top ten most important jobs in the world. Children who cannot think become adults who cannot think, and for the world that is a really bad thing. But I digress.

So I didn't answer the question. Why do they do it? Ask a teacher that and if they're a teacher worth having, s/he will say, "I do it for the students." It's not for money or fame or accolades. It's for the students.

Good teachers remember what it was like to be a student, one of those faceless people in a crowd watching a teacher do their work. They have to know what they're teaching inside and out, because students can spot a fake a mile off. They have to make it more exciting than technology or having a private conversation with a friend. And they know how to connect with their students, to get that message across in the hopes that even a fraction of it might sink in.

The Hierophant is a reminder to me that I can't just sit on my ass and expect my students to blindly follow me. I constantly think about what my student persona would say to my teacher me, and I try to act accordingly. I try to never stop learning and growing, because as soon as I say "I'm done," I'm done as a teacher, too. How can I expect my students to aim high if I stop?

More than leading students, though, I try to remember the lessons my students teach me every single class. I've learned more about my craft and myself in a classroom than I have from any book, and from any other person, except for maybe three or four pivotal people in my life. And to me, that's the way it should be, and the way I hope it will be until I stop drawing breath.

So next time you think of the Hierophant, think about your role as both the teacher AND a student. It may help you be a little more patient or compassionate when the next "student" in your life asks for your time, attention, or help.

And me? Why do I do it? For my students, of course. And I'm a better man for it. 

Stomping on Jesus: Truly a Classroom WTF Moment

Some of you may have seen this article online in the past week or so. A college student was nearly suspended for refusing to do a class exercise in which he was required to write "Jesus" on a piece of paper and stomp on it. 

As a teacher, I understand the point the professor was trying to make. If you take a word, phrase, or symbol that is sacred to someone, have them write it on a piece of paper, and stomp on it, you will indeed see the power that words and symbols have in our daily lives. The teacher apologized, but he seemed pleased that he had made his point. I wonder if he thought he'd get more of a response if he did it right before Easter. 

It doesn't matter whose religion it is; the exercise is just plain wrong. And what about non-Christians, atheists and agnostics? Wouldn't they have also had a problem with the activity? Yes, but for a different reason: If the word means nothing to you, then stomping on it shouldn't be hard for you, and the point of the lesson is once again lost. 

To me this ranks right up there with the high school teacher in France who had students write their own suicide note: An assignment that never should have happened.  

I know how I would have felt if it had been "God and Goddess" on that piece of paper, a pentacle, a crescent moon, or a bunch of other symbols I consider important to my spiritual life. 

If I was a college administrator, I'd have hard time explaining why I retain this person at all. At the very least, I'd consider suspending the teacher for a while. 

I applaud and respect the student for standing up for his beliefs and refusing to do the activity. I hope each and every one of us would have the balls to do likewise.