The Difference Between Power and Spirituality

My reflections also led me toward another subject: the occult.

Throughout history, various esoteric traditions have explored the possibility that concentrated attention, ritual, intention, or spiritual knowledge can influence physical reality.

In some forms of ceremonial magic, the objective is to produce a desired outcome.

The practitioner attempts to change circumstances through the disciplined application of will.

Kabbalistic traditions also contain teachings about relationships between divine reality and the material world, including the idea that prayer and sacred intention may affect the flow of divine abundance.

These traditions are diverse, and not all approach spiritual power in the same way.

Some seek communion with God. Others emphasize knowledge, transformation, or influence over circumstances.

But studying them led me to an important distinction.

The ability to concentrate is not necessarily evidence of spiritual development. And the ability to influence reality, even if extraordinary forms of influence were possible, would not necessarily establish a connection with God.

Imagine a person who develops exceptional mental discipline.

Perhaps that person becomes unusually persuasive, resilient, perceptive, or capable of influencing others.

These abilities may be impressive.

But do they reveal anything about the ultimate direction of that person’s consciousness?

Not necessarily.

A person can acquire power and remain entirely devoted to the self.

A person can become extraordinarily disciplined while making personal control the highest objective.

And a person can pursue spiritual experiences as a means of becoming more powerful, more important, or more capable of dominating the world.

Within The Godward Way, this represents a fundamentally different orientation from the one I seek.

I do not wish to turn consciousness into a mechanism for controlling creation.

I wish to direct consciousness toward the Creator.

That does not require denying the possibility of miracles.

God may act within creation if He wills.

But there is a profound difference between asking the Father to act and believing that my spiritual practice should compel Him to act.

One is a relationship.

The other risks becoming an attempt at control.

And I began to recognize the same fear underneath both my request for rain and the temptation to acquire extraordinary spiritual power.

I wanted assurance that I was not helpless before the unknown.

I wanted to know that I could produce a result.

I wanted certainty.

Yet perhaps the deepest purpose of spiritual practice is not to make me more powerful within the universe.

Perhaps it is to change my relationship with power itself.