Qaexl
09-12-2006, 03:17 PM
From time to time, I've seen requests for Taoist evocation or invocation rites. I've once read an ebook published online claiming to be a Taoist evocation system, but it was far from the Taoist "flavor" or methods. Here, I have an excerpt from John Blofeld's Taoist Mysteries and Magic, an anecdopt from when Prof. Blofeld (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Blofeld) wandered around China during the 1930s looking for Buddhist and Taoist temples. Note that in his Forward, Blofeld states that the "Abode of Mysterious Orignation" is a composite of several Taoist hermitages he had visited.
... Before according with that centrifugal movement, I must describe an important psychic manifestation belonging to what the Assistant Abbot called the uppermost of the three inferior categories of power.
In another book, I have described the performance of one of those spirit-possessed mediums still employed as oracles in most overseas Chinese communities. Since then, I have had a rather similar experience, also at Bangkok; the story is orth telling as a prelude to what I shall have to say about the spirit-oracle at the Abode of Mysterious Origination, for all such manifestations have a fair amount in common. The medium is invariably an unconscious vehicle for communicating the pronouncements of the spirit or deity invoked.
...
At the Abode of Mysterious Origination, it was customary to consult the spirit-oracle only at times when important decisions had to be made regarding the community's welfare. As I never chanced to be present on such an occasion, I have based the following account on what I was told by the Assistant Abbot Wu. One day a letter from the distrct magistrate within whose jurisdiction the monastery lay was brought to the Abbot by special messenger. It contained a courteously worded demand that accommodation be prepared for a whole company of Nationalist soldiers who were to form part of a force soon to be dispatched against a recalcitrant provincial army which had advaned its headquarters eastward to a town only about thirty miles up-river from the monastery and sent the government-appointed officials fleeing for their lives. Naturally the letter caused consternation, for Taoists have ever regarded soldiers as the most tragically misguided of human beings and the recluses were aware that the district authorities held much the same opinion of Taoists! To yield would be disastrous; soldiers were quite capable of stabling their horses in the shrine-hall or the Abbot's private quarters and of driving the reclluses with blows to perform military tasks that contravened their principles. On the other hand, not to yield would be to risk the community's dissolution on some such charge as giving passive assistance to the rebels! Clearly this was a moment to seek oracular advice.
The resident spirit-oracle was an unremarkable-looking, rather timid man in his middle thirties whose mediumistic powers had been discovered early and thenceforth assiduously nurtured. I had often seen him about and had put him down as a mild, unobtrusive recluse with no particular standing in the community until Wu revealed his identity. However, from the moment it became known that a consultation was to take place, the oracle emrged into temporary prominence. During the three days of rites that makred the prelimnary stage of invoking the irascible deity Kuan Ti (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuan_Ti) to enter the poor fellow's body, even the Abbot bowed to the ground before him as though the dread War God had already taken up his lowly habitation. That fierce divinity -- a former general deified by posterity on account of his loyalty, sagacity and brilliant military career -- had been selected from among the hosts of heaven as the being most likely to provide a strategy for countering the impiety and genrally gross behavior of soldiers! Day and night, incense and tall red candles burnt before the crimson-cheeked, green-robed, more than life-sized image, whose handsome beard adorned powerful features set in an expression so forbidding that no Roman emperor or Prussian junker can ever have looked half so intimidating. When the time came for the final rite of invocation, the entire comunity assembled to perform obeisance; no doubt most of them found it hard to conceal their trepidation, for oracles possessed by the War God had been known to run amok and slaughter several bystanders, whether because their demeanour had inadvertently caused the deity to take umbrage, or, as Wu Tao-shih was more inclined to suppose, because the rapport between deity and oracle-recluse had been marred by some unguessable imperfection.
The oracle was ceremoniously led forth in proecssion and ensconced upon a throne that stood in the great courtyard, with its back to the marble steps leading down from the shrine-hall. To one side, but as far removed from the throne as was consonant with their being within earshot, scribes sat at a table, moistening their brushes and arranging sheets of absorbent rice-paper. Wu Tao-shih remarked that the scholarly recluses chosen for this task were usually so frightened that their calligraphy was apt to be appalling. Flanking the throne at closer range were two wooden racks containing a whole armoury of medieval weapons, these being part of the insignia of imperial generals and also handy in case the War God decided to make an example of the impertinent mortals who had summoned him from the pleasures of his heavenly existence. Wu drew an amusing picture of the mild-eyed oracle who, though clad in the full panoply of a general of old and sitting in an arrogant attitude with booted feet planted wide apart, could hardly bring himself to hold the mighty saw-toothed spear (http://www.shaolin.co.za/articles/history/kwandao.html) which an attendant ha djust thrust into his trembling grasp. Next, the unhappy man's glance fell shudderingly upon the array of swords, spears and axes flanking his throne; the very sight of such pain-dealing implements must have filled him with shame and misgiving.
Wu himself officiated. Clad in a sombre robe embroidered with protective symbols, expression no doubt guardedly solemn, he stood to one side of the oracle, head politely inclined, hands folded and modestly concealed by his sleeves, stance motionless as an idol's except when he gave the signal for the awesome rite to begin.
In response to his high-pitched command, the assmbly bowed to the ground, whereat a great tempest of sound swept from the shrine-hall where the temple musicians could be seen through the open doorways frenziedly clashing giant cymbals, thwacking gongs and drums, or blowing at their clarinets as though their cheeks would burst. Wu told me that on such occasions the noise rivalled the din of embattled gods and titans; yet the serried rows of recluses stood like defa-mutes, not so much as glancing towards the source of that boisterous assault upon their ears. All were staring fixedly at the oracle, whose features now bore too grim and martial an expression to be recognizable as those of their gentle colleague. Even his stature had filled out, giving him the air of a muscular, battle-hardened veteran of a hundred wars. His face and body had begun to twitch, his limbs to jerk; these spasmodic movements, slight at first, rapidly gained momentum, and, leaping to his feeet, the terrible figure pranced about, menacingly twirling his saw-toothed spear. Suddenly he clanged its iron butt against his breastplate, whereat the thunderous music ceased abruptly and the musicians faced about, craning their necks as though listening intently.
The medium, lost in trancd oblivion, had assumed a look of such malevolent ferocity that the recluses qualied before his dreadful gestures and grimaces, even though his eyes appeared to be focused upon some inner vision; at times only the whites were visible, the pupils having vanished beneath the lids. Presently, with a clash of accoutrements, the dreadful figure resumed its throne, where he crouched with the seeming indolence of a tiger ready to spring. Warily the officiant advanced towards him, timing his steps to the slow, sad melody that now issued from the terrace, where stood a youth bowed gracefully over a slender bamboo flute.
As the melody died away, the officiant, employing the theatrical diction proper to cermonial usage, uttered a question couched in the language which courtiers and the more scholarly military officials were presumed to have spoken on formal occasions a thousand years ago. The oracle, though motionless and attentive, sat with lips drawn back in a smile of such cruel scorn that Wu almost committed the discourtesy of stammering; indeed, having posed his question, he lept unceremoniously backwards, for the menacing figure had sprung to its feet as though infuriated beyond measure at the temerity of a mere mortal's venturing to approach him. However, instead of plunging his weapon into the offender's breast, he clashed its great blade against his own armour with a prodigious force that snapped the steel as though it had been a shoddy toy. Then, throwing down the haft and seizing a heavy broad-sword in its place, he poured forth a flood of speech in a voice so harsh and grating as to be scarely recognizable as human. The brushes of the cowering scribes flew over the sheets of paper; to ensure that not a syllable was lost, the one embarked upon a new phrase while his fellow was still completing the phrase just uttered. In two minds as to whether to stick to their task or flee, they nevertheless managed to do as required, though in calligraphy so shaky that, afterwards, not even they could deipher every word.
The oracle's torrent of speech broke off, and again the officiant advaned in time to that slow, soft melody. His second question unleashed a further flood of barely intelligble eloquence; but already it was apparent that the divine Kuan Ti's vehicle was close to fainting; the voice had weakened and the gestures had lost much of their ferocity. The answer to the third question tailed off in mid-speech; the oracle slumped backwards against the cushioned throne, head lolling to one side, tears and saliva dribbling from eyes and lips. The strenuous efforts to revive him before the deity left his body having proved unavailing, some attendants ran forward with a couch on which they laid him like a corpse; but, presently emerging from his trance, the poor wretch sucked eagerly at the spout of a teapot someone pressed between his teeth. The strong, hot tea revived him so that he was able to sit up and languidly reach for a second teapot, which he drained at a gulp. Apart from some facial twitchiing and an air of near-exhaustion, he had resumed his normal appearance and seemed not too much the worse for his harrowing experience. That mild, kindly, rather shrinking soul had after all survived the ordeal of sharing its body with the spirit of the tempestuous War God!
When Wu reached the end of his story, I exclaimed breathlessly: 'How I should lvoe to see the record of your enquiries and the answeres deliverd by the divinely inspiried oracle!'
A glare of mock severity escaped the Assistant Abbot before he composed his features into the slow, warm smile I liked so well.
'Dearest barbarian, one would have thought that even you would be sufficiently acquainted with the decorum that governs these grave matters not to demand what cannot with propriety be given. My questions, prepared beforehand in conclave with our Venerable Abbot, have, as you surmised, been recorded for posterity together with the divine Kuan Ti's answers, and the interpretations placed upon them by the Monastery Council. If you wish to view the contents of the book which contains the oracular pronouncements of the last five hundred years, you must stay with us long enough to be offered a place on the Council yourself; for would it not be unwise to make public matters so closely affecting our community's welfare? Nevertheless, I can inform you in rather general temrs of what transpired, for an announcement was made to the assembled recluses as soon as the interpretation of the oracle had been agreed pon. Rest assured, most dear and highly esteemed layman, that the divine Kuan Ti's answer was both favourable and in accordance with the events that followed. His advie was to accept the district magistrate's demand to station troops within our sacred precincts with every appearance of patriotic fervour, since it was certain that very few troops, if any, would actually be sent here and that they could easily be induced to remain on their best behavior for the short duration of their stay. A week or so later -- it was, by the way, towards the middle of the Tneth Month last year -- a detachment of less than twenty foot-soldiers under the command of a battle-scarred lieutenant arrived. Their appearance was far from reassuring. Neither the officer nor his men looked at all the sort of people to make themselves agreeable to civilians or respect our religious calling. Nevertheless, we easily persuaded that hard-faced officer to enjoin upon his subordinates the strictest accord with our monastic regulations, on pain of being severely disciplined.' Again came the slow, warm smile as he added: 'You know how we Taoists admire that weak and yielding element which placidly reaches its goal despite all obstacles?'
'Certainly, but flint is not to be eroded in a day.'
'Just so. Therefore water finds its way round.' He made a scarely perceptible gesture which perhaps signified that the soldiers' good behavior and swift departure had been bought at a mutually agreeable price.
'Good!' I exclaimed, 'But what if other soldiers come?'
'They will not,' he answered with assurance. 'At least, not in the near future. The oracle's communication on that point was straightforward.' His smile faded as he remarked more pensively: 'Regarding the more distant future, say three or four years hence, the oracle's pronouncements offered no such comfort. Savage armies will drive the people from their homes along the river and we shall flee with them.'
'Chinese armies?'
'The oracle vouchsafed no indication of their nationality. Nor was that necessary. Already Japan has swallowed up our Manchurian provinces and encroached upon territory at no great distance from Peking. A tiger waits only to digest its meal before setting off to hunt new prey. War will break out within a year or so, but the enemy will not rech this part of the country until long afterwards.'
'Is that you rown estimate of Japan's intentions, or did the divine Kuan Ti inform you of them in detail?'
'A little of both,' he answered gravely. 'Oracles must, of course, be interpreted in the light of prevailing circumstances. They are seldom altogether clear. Even gods are handicapped when we compel them to speak through the mouths of mortals. That accounts for their alarming response to our invocations. As you will have gathered, even their most favourable prognostications are delivered in a manner likely to discourage those who might otherwise invoke them more often than need be. A medium, unless his powers are rarely used, seldom lasts ten years. Our oracle, for example, is resigned to an early death. Each seance cuts a decade off his life. We honour him deeply for his selfless dedication.'
Struck by the use of the word 'compel', I asked: 'Do you mean that a god -- a great and powerful divinity like Kuan Ti -- can be compelled to enter the medium's body and submit to questioning?'
'Most certainly! Why else should dieties trouble themselves with our affairs? Do not ask me how the compulsion is exerted. That pertains to the most secret part of the preliminary rites.'
'And are ordinary ghosts and spirits equally refactory?'
'Ghosts!' he answered contemptuously. 'Most of them are delighted to answer a summons. Often enough they come unbidden. But who believes what they say? As with human beings, there are pranksters, liars and fools among them. Summon a ghost who once bore the surname Li and the malevolent or prankish wraith of some departed Wang may arrive in his stead, answering to the name of Li for the sheer pleasure of sowing confusion. As like as not, they were enemies on earth or else have quarrelled in the spirit world, so one can understand how each would enjoy bringing discredit on the other. No oracle in a monastery of good standing depends upon information supplied by common ghosts. Only deities can be looked to for genuine reelations, but they are generally so incensed by our presumption that they make everything as difficult and dangerous as possible. Then again what deity could be expected to relish having to voiec his august ideas through a puny mortal? Imagine yourself trying to communicate with me through the mouth of a toad or butterfly!'
This conversation struck me at the time as merely fanciful, for experiences of accurate revelations being delivered by mediums who could not possibly have known my circumstances or even my identity were yet to come. My present belief that, unless the often stupid-looking and illiterate spirit-oracles are in fact amazingly telepathic, they must really be the vehicles of invisible powers is reinfored by what I ahve read of Tibetan oracle-mediums. Several writers have observed that, during possession, their whole appearance changes -- not merely their facial experessions but the very lineaments of their bodies undergo transformations which no actor could counterfeit, sometimes taking on physical proportions quite unlike their own. Such terrifying changes transform them into strangers, so that photographs taken before and during possession resemble those of wholly dissimilar persons. Then again, possession generally confers superhuman strength, enabling the possessed to crumble or snap metal objects which, normally, he could not so much as lift or bend. These fantastic occurences, recently recorded by dependable witnesses in such places as Kalimpong and Sikkim, continue to this day; the facts are beyond dispute, leaving only their explanation open to argument. Among the possible alternatives to spirit-possession so far put forward, there is none that accounts satisfactorily for all the facts; those who have actually witnessed the workings of spirit-oracles are inclined to recognize them, however relunctantly, as awesome manifestations of occult power.
Probably there are fraudulent cases, though it is difficult to imagine how spirit-possession of this sort can be counterfeited convincingly. It is just possible that genuine spirit-oracles or their sponsors now and then resort to subterfuge in order to avoid fiascos when their invocations fail at embarrassing moments. Even so, evidence of fraud in some cases is scarcely ground for the assumption that all cases of pssession are fradulent; at most, proven charlatanism serves to thicken the fog of uncertainty that cientists, disregarding the limitation of their competence, have brought down upon the entire range of paranormal occurrences. It has of course to be accepted that the invocation of gods and spirits is extraneous to the essential requirements of Taoism or any other mystical religion. It seems that induced possession pertains to a whole cluster of bliefs and practices surviving from an era that antedates all recognized religion by two thousand years and more. The same can be said of many components of popular Taoism; far from being compartively recent accretions upon the teachings of Lao and CHuang, as the scholars would have it, they possess even greater antiquity than the works of those 'founder sages'.
-- John Blofeld, Taoist Mysteries and Magic (1973) Shambhala pp 101-110
Namaste
... Before according with that centrifugal movement, I must describe an important psychic manifestation belonging to what the Assistant Abbot called the uppermost of the three inferior categories of power.
In another book, I have described the performance of one of those spirit-possessed mediums still employed as oracles in most overseas Chinese communities. Since then, I have had a rather similar experience, also at Bangkok; the story is orth telling as a prelude to what I shall have to say about the spirit-oracle at the Abode of Mysterious Origination, for all such manifestations have a fair amount in common. The medium is invariably an unconscious vehicle for communicating the pronouncements of the spirit or deity invoked.
...
At the Abode of Mysterious Origination, it was customary to consult the spirit-oracle only at times when important decisions had to be made regarding the community's welfare. As I never chanced to be present on such an occasion, I have based the following account on what I was told by the Assistant Abbot Wu. One day a letter from the distrct magistrate within whose jurisdiction the monastery lay was brought to the Abbot by special messenger. It contained a courteously worded demand that accommodation be prepared for a whole company of Nationalist soldiers who were to form part of a force soon to be dispatched against a recalcitrant provincial army which had advaned its headquarters eastward to a town only about thirty miles up-river from the monastery and sent the government-appointed officials fleeing for their lives. Naturally the letter caused consternation, for Taoists have ever regarded soldiers as the most tragically misguided of human beings and the recluses were aware that the district authorities held much the same opinion of Taoists! To yield would be disastrous; soldiers were quite capable of stabling their horses in the shrine-hall or the Abbot's private quarters and of driving the reclluses with blows to perform military tasks that contravened their principles. On the other hand, not to yield would be to risk the community's dissolution on some such charge as giving passive assistance to the rebels! Clearly this was a moment to seek oracular advice.
The resident spirit-oracle was an unremarkable-looking, rather timid man in his middle thirties whose mediumistic powers had been discovered early and thenceforth assiduously nurtured. I had often seen him about and had put him down as a mild, unobtrusive recluse with no particular standing in the community until Wu revealed his identity. However, from the moment it became known that a consultation was to take place, the oracle emrged into temporary prominence. During the three days of rites that makred the prelimnary stage of invoking the irascible deity Kuan Ti (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuan_Ti) to enter the poor fellow's body, even the Abbot bowed to the ground before him as though the dread War God had already taken up his lowly habitation. That fierce divinity -- a former general deified by posterity on account of his loyalty, sagacity and brilliant military career -- had been selected from among the hosts of heaven as the being most likely to provide a strategy for countering the impiety and genrally gross behavior of soldiers! Day and night, incense and tall red candles burnt before the crimson-cheeked, green-robed, more than life-sized image, whose handsome beard adorned powerful features set in an expression so forbidding that no Roman emperor or Prussian junker can ever have looked half so intimidating. When the time came for the final rite of invocation, the entire comunity assembled to perform obeisance; no doubt most of them found it hard to conceal their trepidation, for oracles possessed by the War God had been known to run amok and slaughter several bystanders, whether because their demeanour had inadvertently caused the deity to take umbrage, or, as Wu Tao-shih was more inclined to suppose, because the rapport between deity and oracle-recluse had been marred by some unguessable imperfection.
The oracle was ceremoniously led forth in proecssion and ensconced upon a throne that stood in the great courtyard, with its back to the marble steps leading down from the shrine-hall. To one side, but as far removed from the throne as was consonant with their being within earshot, scribes sat at a table, moistening their brushes and arranging sheets of absorbent rice-paper. Wu Tao-shih remarked that the scholarly recluses chosen for this task were usually so frightened that their calligraphy was apt to be appalling. Flanking the throne at closer range were two wooden racks containing a whole armoury of medieval weapons, these being part of the insignia of imperial generals and also handy in case the War God decided to make an example of the impertinent mortals who had summoned him from the pleasures of his heavenly existence. Wu drew an amusing picture of the mild-eyed oracle who, though clad in the full panoply of a general of old and sitting in an arrogant attitude with booted feet planted wide apart, could hardly bring himself to hold the mighty saw-toothed spear (http://www.shaolin.co.za/articles/history/kwandao.html) which an attendant ha djust thrust into his trembling grasp. Next, the unhappy man's glance fell shudderingly upon the array of swords, spears and axes flanking his throne; the very sight of such pain-dealing implements must have filled him with shame and misgiving.
Wu himself officiated. Clad in a sombre robe embroidered with protective symbols, expression no doubt guardedly solemn, he stood to one side of the oracle, head politely inclined, hands folded and modestly concealed by his sleeves, stance motionless as an idol's except when he gave the signal for the awesome rite to begin.
In response to his high-pitched command, the assmbly bowed to the ground, whereat a great tempest of sound swept from the shrine-hall where the temple musicians could be seen through the open doorways frenziedly clashing giant cymbals, thwacking gongs and drums, or blowing at their clarinets as though their cheeks would burst. Wu told me that on such occasions the noise rivalled the din of embattled gods and titans; yet the serried rows of recluses stood like defa-mutes, not so much as glancing towards the source of that boisterous assault upon their ears. All were staring fixedly at the oracle, whose features now bore too grim and martial an expression to be recognizable as those of their gentle colleague. Even his stature had filled out, giving him the air of a muscular, battle-hardened veteran of a hundred wars. His face and body had begun to twitch, his limbs to jerk; these spasmodic movements, slight at first, rapidly gained momentum, and, leaping to his feeet, the terrible figure pranced about, menacingly twirling his saw-toothed spear. Suddenly he clanged its iron butt against his breastplate, whereat the thunderous music ceased abruptly and the musicians faced about, craning their necks as though listening intently.
The medium, lost in trancd oblivion, had assumed a look of such malevolent ferocity that the recluses qualied before his dreadful gestures and grimaces, even though his eyes appeared to be focused upon some inner vision; at times only the whites were visible, the pupils having vanished beneath the lids. Presently, with a clash of accoutrements, the dreadful figure resumed its throne, where he crouched with the seeming indolence of a tiger ready to spring. Warily the officiant advanced towards him, timing his steps to the slow, sad melody that now issued from the terrace, where stood a youth bowed gracefully over a slender bamboo flute.
As the melody died away, the officiant, employing the theatrical diction proper to cermonial usage, uttered a question couched in the language which courtiers and the more scholarly military officials were presumed to have spoken on formal occasions a thousand years ago. The oracle, though motionless and attentive, sat with lips drawn back in a smile of such cruel scorn that Wu almost committed the discourtesy of stammering; indeed, having posed his question, he lept unceremoniously backwards, for the menacing figure had sprung to its feet as though infuriated beyond measure at the temerity of a mere mortal's venturing to approach him. However, instead of plunging his weapon into the offender's breast, he clashed its great blade against his own armour with a prodigious force that snapped the steel as though it had been a shoddy toy. Then, throwing down the haft and seizing a heavy broad-sword in its place, he poured forth a flood of speech in a voice so harsh and grating as to be scarely recognizable as human. The brushes of the cowering scribes flew over the sheets of paper; to ensure that not a syllable was lost, the one embarked upon a new phrase while his fellow was still completing the phrase just uttered. In two minds as to whether to stick to their task or flee, they nevertheless managed to do as required, though in calligraphy so shaky that, afterwards, not even they could deipher every word.
The oracle's torrent of speech broke off, and again the officiant advaned in time to that slow, soft melody. His second question unleashed a further flood of barely intelligble eloquence; but already it was apparent that the divine Kuan Ti's vehicle was close to fainting; the voice had weakened and the gestures had lost much of their ferocity. The answer to the third question tailed off in mid-speech; the oracle slumped backwards against the cushioned throne, head lolling to one side, tears and saliva dribbling from eyes and lips. The strenuous efforts to revive him before the deity left his body having proved unavailing, some attendants ran forward with a couch on which they laid him like a corpse; but, presently emerging from his trance, the poor wretch sucked eagerly at the spout of a teapot someone pressed between his teeth. The strong, hot tea revived him so that he was able to sit up and languidly reach for a second teapot, which he drained at a gulp. Apart from some facial twitchiing and an air of near-exhaustion, he had resumed his normal appearance and seemed not too much the worse for his harrowing experience. That mild, kindly, rather shrinking soul had after all survived the ordeal of sharing its body with the spirit of the tempestuous War God!
When Wu reached the end of his story, I exclaimed breathlessly: 'How I should lvoe to see the record of your enquiries and the answeres deliverd by the divinely inspiried oracle!'
A glare of mock severity escaped the Assistant Abbot before he composed his features into the slow, warm smile I liked so well.
'Dearest barbarian, one would have thought that even you would be sufficiently acquainted with the decorum that governs these grave matters not to demand what cannot with propriety be given. My questions, prepared beforehand in conclave with our Venerable Abbot, have, as you surmised, been recorded for posterity together with the divine Kuan Ti's answers, and the interpretations placed upon them by the Monastery Council. If you wish to view the contents of the book which contains the oracular pronouncements of the last five hundred years, you must stay with us long enough to be offered a place on the Council yourself; for would it not be unwise to make public matters so closely affecting our community's welfare? Nevertheless, I can inform you in rather general temrs of what transpired, for an announcement was made to the assembled recluses as soon as the interpretation of the oracle had been agreed pon. Rest assured, most dear and highly esteemed layman, that the divine Kuan Ti's answer was both favourable and in accordance with the events that followed. His advie was to accept the district magistrate's demand to station troops within our sacred precincts with every appearance of patriotic fervour, since it was certain that very few troops, if any, would actually be sent here and that they could easily be induced to remain on their best behavior for the short duration of their stay. A week or so later -- it was, by the way, towards the middle of the Tneth Month last year -- a detachment of less than twenty foot-soldiers under the command of a battle-scarred lieutenant arrived. Their appearance was far from reassuring. Neither the officer nor his men looked at all the sort of people to make themselves agreeable to civilians or respect our religious calling. Nevertheless, we easily persuaded that hard-faced officer to enjoin upon his subordinates the strictest accord with our monastic regulations, on pain of being severely disciplined.' Again came the slow, warm smile as he added: 'You know how we Taoists admire that weak and yielding element which placidly reaches its goal despite all obstacles?'
'Certainly, but flint is not to be eroded in a day.'
'Just so. Therefore water finds its way round.' He made a scarely perceptible gesture which perhaps signified that the soldiers' good behavior and swift departure had been bought at a mutually agreeable price.
'Good!' I exclaimed, 'But what if other soldiers come?'
'They will not,' he answered with assurance. 'At least, not in the near future. The oracle's communication on that point was straightforward.' His smile faded as he remarked more pensively: 'Regarding the more distant future, say three or four years hence, the oracle's pronouncements offered no such comfort. Savage armies will drive the people from their homes along the river and we shall flee with them.'
'Chinese armies?'
'The oracle vouchsafed no indication of their nationality. Nor was that necessary. Already Japan has swallowed up our Manchurian provinces and encroached upon territory at no great distance from Peking. A tiger waits only to digest its meal before setting off to hunt new prey. War will break out within a year or so, but the enemy will not rech this part of the country until long afterwards.'
'Is that you rown estimate of Japan's intentions, or did the divine Kuan Ti inform you of them in detail?'
'A little of both,' he answered gravely. 'Oracles must, of course, be interpreted in the light of prevailing circumstances. They are seldom altogether clear. Even gods are handicapped when we compel them to speak through the mouths of mortals. That accounts for their alarming response to our invocations. As you will have gathered, even their most favourable prognostications are delivered in a manner likely to discourage those who might otherwise invoke them more often than need be. A medium, unless his powers are rarely used, seldom lasts ten years. Our oracle, for example, is resigned to an early death. Each seance cuts a decade off his life. We honour him deeply for his selfless dedication.'
Struck by the use of the word 'compel', I asked: 'Do you mean that a god -- a great and powerful divinity like Kuan Ti -- can be compelled to enter the medium's body and submit to questioning?'
'Most certainly! Why else should dieties trouble themselves with our affairs? Do not ask me how the compulsion is exerted. That pertains to the most secret part of the preliminary rites.'
'And are ordinary ghosts and spirits equally refactory?'
'Ghosts!' he answered contemptuously. 'Most of them are delighted to answer a summons. Often enough they come unbidden. But who believes what they say? As with human beings, there are pranksters, liars and fools among them. Summon a ghost who once bore the surname Li and the malevolent or prankish wraith of some departed Wang may arrive in his stead, answering to the name of Li for the sheer pleasure of sowing confusion. As like as not, they were enemies on earth or else have quarrelled in the spirit world, so one can understand how each would enjoy bringing discredit on the other. No oracle in a monastery of good standing depends upon information supplied by common ghosts. Only deities can be looked to for genuine reelations, but they are generally so incensed by our presumption that they make everything as difficult and dangerous as possible. Then again what deity could be expected to relish having to voiec his august ideas through a puny mortal? Imagine yourself trying to communicate with me through the mouth of a toad or butterfly!'
This conversation struck me at the time as merely fanciful, for experiences of accurate revelations being delivered by mediums who could not possibly have known my circumstances or even my identity were yet to come. My present belief that, unless the often stupid-looking and illiterate spirit-oracles are in fact amazingly telepathic, they must really be the vehicles of invisible powers is reinfored by what I ahve read of Tibetan oracle-mediums. Several writers have observed that, during possession, their whole appearance changes -- not merely their facial experessions but the very lineaments of their bodies undergo transformations which no actor could counterfeit, sometimes taking on physical proportions quite unlike their own. Such terrifying changes transform them into strangers, so that photographs taken before and during possession resemble those of wholly dissimilar persons. Then again, possession generally confers superhuman strength, enabling the possessed to crumble or snap metal objects which, normally, he could not so much as lift or bend. These fantastic occurences, recently recorded by dependable witnesses in such places as Kalimpong and Sikkim, continue to this day; the facts are beyond dispute, leaving only their explanation open to argument. Among the possible alternatives to spirit-possession so far put forward, there is none that accounts satisfactorily for all the facts; those who have actually witnessed the workings of spirit-oracles are inclined to recognize them, however relunctantly, as awesome manifestations of occult power.
Probably there are fraudulent cases, though it is difficult to imagine how spirit-possession of this sort can be counterfeited convincingly. It is just possible that genuine spirit-oracles or their sponsors now and then resort to subterfuge in order to avoid fiascos when their invocations fail at embarrassing moments. Even so, evidence of fraud in some cases is scarcely ground for the assumption that all cases of pssession are fradulent; at most, proven charlatanism serves to thicken the fog of uncertainty that cientists, disregarding the limitation of their competence, have brought down upon the entire range of paranormal occurrences. It has of course to be accepted that the invocation of gods and spirits is extraneous to the essential requirements of Taoism or any other mystical religion. It seems that induced possession pertains to a whole cluster of bliefs and practices surviving from an era that antedates all recognized religion by two thousand years and more. The same can be said of many components of popular Taoism; far from being compartively recent accretions upon the teachings of Lao and CHuang, as the scholars would have it, they possess even greater antiquity than the works of those 'founder sages'.
-- John Blofeld, Taoist Mysteries and Magic (1973) Shambhala pp 101-110
Namaste