Theurgy for the Masses? Bruce J. MacLennan ISNS 2019 My presentation today will explore the question of whether Neoplatonic theurgy is a practice accessible to any suitably trained person, or whether it is a rare accomplishment of exceptional individuals. To expose the issues, I will focus on Jung’s production of his Red Book,1 which is the result of a unique series of theurgical experiments that he conducted from 1913 to 1919, and which he claimed to be source of all his ideas. Peter Kingsley’s recent two-volume essay, called Catafalque: Carl Jung and the End of Humanity,2 compares Jung’s singular revelation to that of prophets such as Pythagoras, Parmenides, Empedocles, Isaiah, Joachim of Fiore, and indeed Jesus. From this perspective, such divine revelations are rare and restricted to a few privileged individuals in each age. However, Jung’s theurgical experiments are the basis of the psychoanalytic practice called active imagination, which corresponds closely to Neoplatonic theurgy and operates on similar principles. Jungian psychologists recommend active imagination, either self-directed or under the guidance of an analyst, as a valuable practice aimed toward psychological integration. Ancient theurgists seem to agree: though individuals may differ in their aptitude (or ἐπιτηδειότης), in principle anyone can learn to practice theurgy and engage with divinity. This is the paradox.  Jung’s Red Book is a remarkable piece of work, with aesthetic, spiritual, intellectual, biographical, and historical value, but we can ask what sets it apart from other products of channeling, automatic writing, and similar practices. Certainly we are struck by the aesthetics of The Red Book. Off and on for 16 years, Jung transcribed his experiences and interpretations with elegant gothic calligraphy into a massive red leather-bound volume. In it he used symbolically potent images to express what could not be expressed in words. Jung showed The Red Book to very few people, and after his death in 1961, the Jung family kept it hidden, eventually in a Swiss bank vault. The reticence of Jung, his family, and many Jungians to reveal The Red Book to a wider audience arose from concern that its “crazy character” would diminish Jung’s scientific reputation. Ten years ago, it was finally published in an impressive facsimile edition with an English translation and extensive notes. The world is still assimilating it. The Red Book is exceptional for the transformative effect it had on Jung. It displays for us the value but also the difficulty of an extended theurgic operation such as he undertook. Jung said: 1 The years when I was pursuing my inner images were the most important in my life—in them everything essential was decided. It all began then; the later details are only supplements and clarifications of the material that burst forth from the unconscious, and at first swamped me. It was the prima materia for a lifetime’s work.3 Therefore The Red Book is significant as the founding document of analytical psychology; it is the wellspring of a system of ideas that has had enormous influence in literature, art, anthropology, science, religion, and of course psychology. That is, while the ideas recorded in The Red Book were especially significant for Jung himself, they also have enormous cultural significance. We can compare The Red Book to the Chaldean Oracles, which resulted from the theurgy of the two Julians and for centuries provided the central text around which Neoplatonists framed their philosophical commentaries. They were “the paradigmatic example of inspired, theurgic divination for the Neoplatonists,” 4 much as The Red Book is the paradigmatic example of active imagination for Jungians. The complete Oracles have been lost for centuries, and in a similar but different way, The Red Book was inaccessible for nearly a century, and Jungian scholars had to infer its content from some isolated extracts and from allusions in the writings of Jung and a few others who had seen it. Nevertheless, despite the importance of The Red Book in the development of Jungian psychology, I think it is essential to recognize that it reflects a stage in Jung’s personal process of psychological integration. He had the experiences he needed to have in order to progress. In the process, he made discoveries that are applicable to us all, but we cannot take The Red Book as gospel. It was indeed a revelation, but it was the personal revelation that Jung needed then. Like Jung, we need to separate the personal from the collective, and in addition we need to seek our own personal revelations. Theurgy is a means to do so.  To see that Jungian active imagination is a kind of theurgy, with similar means and ends, we can begin with the observation that the Jungian archetypes are the psychical manifestations of the Platonic Ideas. Jung said the archetypes are active living dispositions, ideas in the Platonic sense, that preform and continually influence our thoughts and feelings and actions. 5 Among these Platonic Ideas are the gods, and therefore many of the archetypes are eternal Forms of behavior or personalities. Jung called them. “the ruling powers, the Gods, that is, images of dominating laws and principles.” 6 These archetypes are innate unconscious psychological structures and therefore common to all people; they constitute the collective unconscious. As the gods emanate their ministering daimons, so corresponding archetypal structures in the individual psyche engender personal daimons, which develop along with the individual and adapt the archetypes to an individual’s life and experience. In psychological terms, they are the complexes which develop from the archetypes and can possess or inspire a person for, as Jung said, “complexes behave like independent beings.” 7 Archetypes and complexes fulfill their biological functions by regulating perception, affect, motivation, cognition, and action. Therefore an activated complex can quite literally possess a person in order to serve some human need. Like other forms of theurgy, active imagination seeks acquaintance and interaction with autonomous, eternal psychical beings: in psychological terms, archetypes and complexes; in 2 Neoplatonic terms, gods and daimons. Both theurgy and active imagination use symbols as a means of establishing this contact, for symbols are images born of these archetypal Ideas and can be used to awaken their ἐνέργεια in our psyches. Both make use of ritual, which has been defined as “symbolic behavior, consciously performed.” 8 And both use techniques of unguided visualization. Once the symbols have been deployed in a suitable ritual, the imagination is opened as a space in which the ego can interact with whatever is present. This interaction may be a source of aid and inspiration, as it was for ancient poets, philosophers, and sages, and as it was for Jung. But we must avoid an instrumental or transactional approach, attempting to satisfy the ego’s needs—to command the gods and daimons—which makes the fatal, Faustian mistake of assuming the ego is in control. 9 The difference is between theurgy and thaumaturgy (or γοητεία), that is between, on one hand, mutual accommodation of mortal and divine and assimilation of the ego to the gods, and on the other, attempting to satisfy the ego’s desires. Active imagination, like other forms of theurgy, brings us into contact with the psychical powers that regulate our lives, and as a consequence of that experience, we may live better, which is the goal of ancient philosophy. In this way we come to reside in the psychical realm with the gods and daimons, “to become gods so far as possible for mortals” as Plato taught. 10 This does not mean we should indulge in an inflated notion of our own perfection. As Plotinus said, “our goal is not to be morally flawless, but to be gods.”11 I understand this to mean that the goal is to experience the divine within oneself. We do this by coming to identify with our individual nous, which is the image of the Cosmic Nous, where the eternal gods reside. 12  Jung and The Red Book show us the way forward, but we must take The Red Book as example not as scripture. Jung was clear about this; he wrote: I give you news of the way of this man, but not of your own way.… May each go his own way. I will be no savior, no lawgiver, no master teacher unto you. You are no longer little children. 13 Some of the insights he gained from his experiment are universal, but we cannot ignore its fundamentally personal nature; the spirits he encountered were addressing Jung and his soul specifically. Therefore we should follow his example; make the journey and engage with the spirits that we encounter. Jung also recommended that his patients produce their own Red Books.14 In other words, we should recognize The Red Book as what is sometimes called a “spirit journal” (a liber spirituum), that is, a record of interactions with daimons. The words and images in such a book, since they come from the daimons, become numinous symbols, themselves capable of engaging the divine energies. The spirit journal becomes animated, ensouled. It becomes a potent ritual object, a talisman. Therefore, it is appropriate to give it a special embodiment, as Jung did his Red Book. He said, “I should advise you to put it all down as beautifully as you can—in some beautifully bound book, for in that book is your soul.”15 Jung’s Red Book is a concrete example of the importance of theurgical operations for the theurgist and potentially for the world. Most of our spirit journals, however, will have only personal relevance, but that is enough. Indeed, we should avoid the hubris and psychological inflation of assuming that our theurgical experiences apply to others. Let each be the prophet of their own religion. 3 Jung’s experiences—both his spontaneous visions and active imaginations—were disturbing, even traumatic. He says: I stood helpless before an alien world; everything in it seemed difficult and incomprehensible. I was living in a constant state of tension; often I felt as if gigantic blocks of stone were tumbling down upon me. One thunderstorm followed another. My enduring these storms was a question of brute strength. 16 Are such experiences a necessary concomitant of theurgy? While encounters with gods and daimons can be expected to be sometimes bizarre, uncomfortable, threatening, and even dangerous, with appropriate training, guidance, and initiation, theurgy need not be traumatic. Although theurgy has existed for millennia, Jung was a pioneer in its use in psychology; he was flying blind, finding his way as he went, he called it “a voyage of discovery to the other pole of the world.”17 Unlike ancient theurgists, he had not been properly initiated; he did not know what to expect. Thanks to his investigations and those of other analytical psychologists, we now know better how to engage in active imagination. The tradition of theurgy also provides a context of practice that enhances the psychospiritual value of these practices and decreases their dangers. Jung’s “most difficult experiment,” as he called it, which produced The Red Book, was confined to six years, 1913–1919. It was apparently an arduous experience, but provided material that he spent the rest of his life assimilating. 18 Given his experience, one might ask whether ordinary people should practice active imagination or theurgy, or only those exceptional individuals with the talent, discipline, and psychological toughness. For example, in his Catafalque Kingsley points to the exceptional characteristics and experiences common to Jung and other prophets.19 Indeed, Jung himself said of his experiment, “It must not by any means be supposed that the technique described is suitable for general use or imitation.” 20 In the early days of analytical psychology there was a concern that active imagination could unleash latent psychoses, and therefore that it should be practiced only under the guidance of a Jungian analyst.21 According to analyst Anthony Stevens, “It is potentially dangerous, because it amounts to a self-induced psychotic episode.”22 Similarly, instruction in theurgical techniques have often been confined to groups (such as spiritual or religious orders) in which these practices were learned under the guidance of a spiritual director who could monitor the aspirant’s psychological health and spiritual progress. Initiatory degrees formalized suitability and readiness to learn more advanced techniques. Nevertheless, there is growing recognition that active imagination is not dangerous for most people, especially if they have an experienced guide, and we may say the same about theurgy in general. 23 Many of the pitfalls can be avoided by staying grounded in ordinary life, as Jung recognized: Particularly at this time, when I was working on the fantasies, I needed a point of support in “this world,” and I may say that my family and my professional work were that to me.… The unconscious contents could have driven me out of my wits.24 “Balance finds the way.”25 That is, balance must be preserved between the psychical and sensible worlds. The theurgist visits and converses with gods and daimons, but is obliged to return and to bring back something that improves this earthly life. Jung said: 4 This idea—that I was committing myself to a dangerous enterprise not for myself alone, but also for the sake of my patients—helped me over several critical phases.26 Moreover, in active imagination or any kind of theurgy, it is essential to maintain an ethical stance, since the gods and daimons that we encounter are not bound by twenty-first century notions of right and wrong, nor of what might be best for the theurgist in conventional terms.27 Quite literally the gods are beyond good and evil, which are our responsibility. Therefore theurgists should have a secure ethical position. This, again, is an advantage of having an analyst or spiritual director, who can provide a sanity check, and is also why theurgical teachings are sometimes restricted to those who have demonstrated ethical readiness as formalized in the degree systems of some spiritual orders.  What are we to make of the insights gained through theurgy? Some theurgists call it unverified personal gnosis, for it is surely a gnosis, a knowing, but it might be particular to the receiver, not universally valid. It might come from one’s personal daimons, one’s psychological complexes, not from the archetypal gods common to all people. Even if it ultimately comes from the gods, it is conveyed by the daimons (the gods’ messengers), and so contaminated by personal content. Sometimes unverified personal gnosis can become verified, for example, when several people independently have the same experiences. For example, some of Jung’s visions were validated by the outbreak of the First World War, which revealed their collective character. 28 Amplification of symbols, which seeks parallels in other cultures, for example in mythology and folklore, can also help to verify universality. Certainly, with practice one may become a better prophet, a messenger of the divine. One way is to become very familiar, through theurgy, with one’s personal daimons. By knowing them better, one can better filter out their distortions, their individual biases. Knowing your Shadow is, of course, a key instance. As The Red Book says, He who comprehends the darkness in himself, to him the light is near. He who climbs down into his darkness reaches the staircase of the working light, firemaned Helios.29 I think it is also important to realize that we can never eliminate the personal element, and so we should have the humility to realize that our gnosis is personal and should not be imposed on others. No doubt, some will know their daimons so well or will have daimons so close to the collective archetypes that they will be able to bring forth universal truths. They are rightly called prophets and their pronouncements are revelations. However, the danger of inflation is so great, that it is best to assume that personal content is always present. I think The Red Book is a perfect example; it took the work of Jung and his colleagues many decades to separate the universal elements from those particular to Jung at that time in his life.  Active imagination is not hard to learn, and basic theurgical techniques are not much more difficult. Nevertheless we may wonder how many people will devote the time to learn the techniques and will have the discipline for regular theurgical practice. Could it become a 5 common practice, an ordinary part of people’s spiritual lives, or will it remain confined to specialists with the time and inclination? “The path is very difficult,” Jung admits.30 Perhaps it is unrealistic to expect theurgy to become a widespread practice, but if it does not, how will non-theurgists come to know the gods and daimons? Presumably vicariously, from the theurgical experiences of others and their interpretations, as we do reading The Red Book and Jungian psychology. But there is a danger that those who don’t practice theurgy will treat its products, such as The Red Book, with excessive reverence (or alternately, with disdain). This is analogous I suppose to science; most people have neither the time nor skill and knowledge for scientific investigation, so they learn from the publicly verified scientific discoveries of others. Yet The Red Book warns: Woe betide those who live by way of examples! Life is not with them. If you live according to an example, you thus live the life of that example, but who should live your own life if not yourself? So live yourselves.31 In conclusion, from the perspective of a modern interpretation of Neoplatonism, The Red Book is a typical result of a valuable spiritual practice, known as theurgy in Neoplatonism and by other names in other traditions. It is the technique that brings us into contact with the gods and daimons, which helps us to live our lives wisely, even divinely; “to become gods so far as possible for mortals.” Not everyone will have the time, motivation, or discipline to practice theurgy, but it is not too difficult and many can learn it (as many are now learning mindfulness meditation). Theurgy might seem like a peculiar practice for twenty-first century Westerners living in a culture dominated by science and technology, but it need not be so if we understand the practices and experiences phenomenologically, as the psychical aspects and experiences of processes best addressed from the interior and with an attitude that acknowledges their reality. This will, I think, enrich our scientific worldview immeasurably and help us to live richer, deeper lives. 6 Endnotes 1 C. G. Jung, The Red Book: Liber Novus, ed. Sonu Shamdasani, tr. John Peck, Mark Kyburz, and Sonu Shamdasani (New York: W. W. Norton, 2009). 2 Peter Kingsley, Catafalque: Carl Jung and the End of Humanity (London: Catafalque Pr., 2018). 3 C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, rev. ed., recorded & ed., A. Jaffé, tr. R. & C. Winston (New York: Vintage Books, 1989), 199. Henceforth, MDR. 4 Crystal Addey, Divination and Theurgy in Neoplatonism: Oracles of the Gods (Burlington: Ashgate, 2014), 10. 5 C. G. Jung, The Collected Works of C. G. Jung, ed. H. Read, M. Fordham, & G. Adler (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1953–78; New York: Pantheon, 1953–60, and Bollingen Foundation, 1961–67; Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1967–78), vol. 8, ¶154. Henceforth CW. 6 C. G. Jung, Collected Papers in Analytical Psychology, 2nd ed., ed. C. E. Long (Covent Gardens: Baillière, Tindall & Cox, 1920), 432. 7 Jung, CW 8, ¶253. 8 Robert A. Johnson, Inner Work: Using Dreams and Active Imagination for Personal Growth (New York: Harper & Row, 1986), 102. 9 Mary Watkins, Waking Dreams, 3rd ed. (Woodstock: Spring, 1984), 109. 10 On the homoiôsis theô (assimilation to god), see for example, Theaetetus, 176AB, Republic, 500CD, Timaeus, 90BC. 11 Plotinus, The Enneads, ed. L. P. Gerson (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Pr., 2018), 1.2.6. 12 John M. Armstrong, “After the Ascent: Plato on Becoming Like God,” Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy, Vol. 26, pp. 171–83, 2004. 13 Jung, The Red Book, 231. 14 Ibid., 216. 15 Ibid., 216. 16 Jung, MDR, 177. 17 Ibid., 189. 18 Jung’s reference to Black Book 1 as “my most difficult experiment”: see The Red Book, 200n67. 19 Kingsley, Catafalque. 20 Jung, Intro. Jungian Psych., 55. 21 Jung, CW 8, 68. 22 Anthony Stevens, Private Myths: Dreams and Dreaming (Cambridge: Harvard Univ. Pr., 1995), 241. 23 Johnson, op. cit., 137–8. 24 Jung, MDR, 189. 25 Jung, The Red Book, 294, n. 24. 26 Jung, MDR, 179. 27 Johnson, op. cit., 189–95. 28 Jung, The Red Book, 231; Jung, MDR, 176. 29 Jung, The Red Book, 272. 7 30 Miguel Serrano, C. G. Jung and Hermann Hesse: A Record of Two Friendships, tr. F. MacShane (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1966), 61. 31 Jung, The Red Book, 231. 8