Fyodor Dostoevsky was an unusual Christian. Beside the slanderous rumors about him from rivals and detractors, his true sins were many and serious, but so were his remorse and repentance, which were deep and sincere. He progressed spiritually, through struggling with his sins. Some of his success came by working out his problems through characters in his novels. Due to his unusual personal experience, he was drawn to explore some of the darker corners of the human soul. One of the corners that fascinated him, was the desire to overcome laws, man-made and natural. One of his characters was a sniveling nobody who, in his self-conceit, believed he would be a somebody by committing a crime, and getting away with it. This would mean he was above and beyond the law. He botches a petty crime, and becomes a double ax murder. In his punishment he repents, becomes a true Christian, and accepts his humanity, with the the help of a loving friend. Another character, Kirillov, in another novel, believes that suicide is a proof of ultimate transcendence of the human condition, because in suicide one overcomes the most basic natural law of self-preservation. Kirillov plans to, but does not commit suicide, because his wife has a baby, and he sees the miracle of a new life; two lives where there was only one before, He senses life as a continuum, beyond mere biological existence. Despite the resolution of Kirillov in the novel, his arguments have been the subject of study for those trying to solve the general problem of suicide from various points of view.

The argument of Kirillov is similar to the argument for martyrdom. In martyrdom one sacrifices one’s life, for something beyond the mere mortal condition. One question in this, is whether martyrdom is suicide?

There will almost certainly be some, who will take offense at the association of martyrdom with suicide. Their views must be considered, even if only minimally.

In the west, martyrdom began with the persecution of the early Christians by the Romans. The Romans considered the early Christians, with their humility, an insult to their religion, which instilled pride in its adherents, to such a degree, that suicide was more noble, than to live on in humility. Irony. During the persecutions, Christians were given the choice to recant or die. More irony. At that time the word martyr meant “to give testimony” or “to hold faith.” Thus a martyr was someone who held fast to a belief, under the threat of death.

In modern times a martyr is someone who sacrifices life for a cause, with or without an immediate, personal threat to life. Kamikaze pilots and Muslim suicide bombers are martyrs, by this definition. In present day usage, a martyr is more loosely defined as someone, who willingly suffers, or sacrifices, to extreme, for a cause. For the purposes of this essay, a martyr is anyone who sacrifices their life for a cause. The intent of this essay is, to discuss martyrdom in the context of contemporary culture and Christianity.

There seems to be a prevailing belief, especially among Christians, that sacrificial death strengthens a cause. To this writer, this belief is questionable. It is not the sacrifice that he questions, it is the death. There is no question about sacrifice being inspiring, it certainly is . Death accentuates the sincerity of intent, but does death in itself, strengthen the cause?

Adherents of this belief usually point to the sacrificial death of the body of Jesus. The Gospels speak of prophesies predicting the death of the messiah. On numerous occasions, Christ-Jesus, himself, alludes to the necessity of his death. How many times in life have we heard the words, “Christ died for your sins”? The reality is that Christ lives for our sins. The necessity for the death of Christ-Jesus, was about of us, more than it was about Christ. It is true that Christ learned, firsthand, the fear that humans have of death, by undergoing crucifixion, and thereby can minister to our fears from experience, but that is only a small part of the matter. Surely from the vantage of the highest of the Archangels, his consciousness was far beyond the personal pain during passage from one world to another. Christ did suffer on the cross, but the suffering was in the realization of the magnitude of the sacrifice that was being made, not so much the pain. The crucifixion was about acceptance. Christ was accepting the burden of us, and of the earth. Christ was taking on our suffering, which is enormous. The acceptance of Christ was with the realization that we are mostly ignorant of the causes of our suffering. There was, and is, acceptance on our part also. The most common definition of being human is: “to be human is to be moral.” We define ourselves by death. This self-definition has arisen since the fall, which was about death and the fear of death. Christ was an alien to us, just as much as death was alien to him. In killing the body of Jesus, inhabited by Christ, we accepted Christ as one of us. In accepting Christ, we opened ourselves to the potential of redemption through grace. The gift of the grace of Christ, is a matter of freedom. It is given in freedom, and can only be received in freedom. In the crucifixion, we accepted Christ as one of us, and received him into the earth. Individual acceptance of Christ, inwardly, is a separate issue. The sacrifice of Christ had to be a blood sacrifice for several reasons. The spiritual life is in the blood. In giving blood, one is establishing the bond of life. Mephistopheles wanted the signature of Faust in blood. In some societies, one cannot bond in friendship without an exchange of blood. The sacrifice of Christ, beyond being immense, was also a practical necessity. The power of the crucifixion was in Christ, not in the death, which was a finalization—something like the signing of a will. The crucifixion, and the work of Christ was, and is, the greatest sacrifice known to us. The power attributed to the death of the body of Jesus, is actually in the sacrifice—the foregoing of something for something greater. “Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it again.” “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me.” Knowing this, as Christian mystical aspirants who try to live the life of Christ in ourselves, it behooves us to further examine the power in sacrifice, and Christian sacrifice in particular. Doing this helps understanding suicide.

Suicide, which is not a sacrifice, is a reality, which mystical aspirants must address, if they wish to serve all humans. It seems to this writer, that Rosicrucian aspirants have not done well with the problem of suicide. Knowledge of what happens to suicides in the post mortem, seems to have led to complacency instead of compassion. We have left the matter to the laws of nature operative in the spiritual worlds. We have given our attention to consequences, instead of causes, and we have left it at that. We have looked death’s negativity, and not at the undeniable positivity of life, as Kirillov came to do. In instances when we do try to help, we often frighten would be suicides with the consequences in the port mortem for suicides, instead of strengthening the positivity of undeniable life. It is serious when an individual misplaces attention from purposeful life, to preoccupation with personal problems, to such an extent that death seems a reasonable solution to the problems. When things have gone that far, correction, or a redirection of attention, is not simple or easy. Understanding the consciousness of a potential suicide is often trying and difficult. It is worthy of whatever effort is required. The parable of the good Shepard is helpful in such instances. There may be no better way to evolve our minds, than to find a way to help another who is in this kind of trouble.

Many books have been written on the subject of suicide, some by depressive people who have struggled with suicidal thoughts most of their lives. Most of the books are worthwhile reading for spiritual aspirants.

Suicidal psychology is a deep and complicated subject. The suicidal mind seems to thrive on complications; often complication is part of the problem. During fifty years of informal counseling, this writer has worked with suicidal people several times. sometimes successfully, and sometimes unsuccessfully. In the unsuccessful instances, intentions to suicide were not announced before the deed. That fact alone could kindle interested in those fascinated with invisible causes; to wit, mystical aspirants. Most of this writer’s career in counseling is past. It has been wonderful, and he urges others to pursue such a course of service. In doing so, one can learn by doing, and if one offers one’s services free of charge, abundant help will come from the higher worlds. Rosicrucian aspirants have advantages in this kind of service work. One advantage is astrology which allows offers one a view of the hidden, normally unseen, inner life of individuals. Another advantage is the love and positivity of Christ, the lord of life. Together they are a tandem which can produce a good success rate,when helping troubled people.

Having read several of these essays, most readers will have noted that most of them are brief. They are also not thorough, nor are they anywhere near the final word on any of their subjects. They are invitations for readers. to a life of study and service, in various directions. Max Heindel did so much so well, that his followers often conclude that he said all that needed to be said. One consequence of this is that his followers have not been a fountain of the fresh, living water, of Christian mysticism. Because of this, the outward expression of of the philosophy of The Rosicrucian Cosmo-Conception has fallen behind the times along with the book. Few people read books these days; fewer still read books from one hundred years ago. It is obvious to Rosicrucian aspirants from experience, that the principles of The Rosicrucian Cosmo-Conception are true and applicable, to contemporary life. It is also obvious to those who have tried to share The Rosicrucian Cosmo-Conception, that its form, and some of its references, are archaic. Correction of this lapse does not need to come in the form of new books, though that might be one avenue. Creative living, because it is live, is a much better path. As children of fire, mystic masons, it ought to be a challenge to us, to be able to express the truths of the Rosicrucian philosophy in our own words, or, better, to live them out in our lives and works in the world, in unique new ways. If we cannot do this, it is likely that we don’t really know the philosophy , but only think we do. It is dangerous to make a philosophy a thing in itself, which makes it a mere artifice, and isolates it from the ongoing stream of evolution. The function of philosophy is to point to reality. A philosophy is successful to the degree that it helps one to see and live in reality better. Living in a world apart from the greater world; a world of complicated, personal conceptions, a palace of mirrors, is often the situation of a suicide. A depressive can see how bad it all is. Redirection of attention to a greater, objective reality is part of the healing for a potential suicide. Heaping a complicated philosophic paradigm, such as the Rosicrucian philosophy (piling Ossa on Pelion) onto such an individual, is not likely to be healing. Finding the appropriate facet of that philosophy, and creatively seeing how to bring it to a potential suicide, in a way that applies to life, is much more likely to lead to healing and correction. Life, in the larger sense of the word, is thoroughly positive and self-rejuvenating, as Kirillov discovered.

These statements about suicide are true to this writer’s experience. They are also meager. A thorough spiritual study of suicide, with or without astrology, would require an entire book, or perhaps several. This writer is interested in doing that, but not as much as he is interested in the purpose of these essays. That purpose is to explore topics in Christianity and Christian mysticism in a manner beneficial to fellow aspirants. Together, in doing this, we can enrich spiritual aspiration, and serve better. With that purpose in mind, the theme of this essay is a specific kind of suicide, religious suicide, i.e., martyrdom.

Martyrdom is about sacrifice. Sacrifice is the giving up of something for the sake of something else. Sacrifice isn’t necessarily selfless and altruistic. A chess player may sacrifice a major piece, to obtain a greater strategic advantage. Giving up a favorite food for lent, might well be giving up something that should have been given up for better health, long before lent. If it is a sacrifice of the desire for that food, it might not be a sacrifice at all, but a benefice. Even if it is a sacrifice of the desire, it isn’t a true sacrifice, because one is the better for it. Sacrifices, with the intent of self-betterment, are basically selfish. They are playing cause and consequence to their own advantage. Though such sacrifices are selfish, they aren’t all bad. Most human betterment, at this time in evolution, is accomplished by this means. It is evolutionary, but it isn’t Christian. Christ introduced a new kind of sacrifice.

The old kind of sacrifice is about self. The Self, the focus of the threefold spirit, is an idea, just like all of the other ideas in the abstract subdivision of the world of thought. The differentiating factor of the Self, as an idea from all of the other ideas, is that it is a divinely conceived idea about divinity, a reflection of God, the spirit. Among all those other ideas, is also the idea of the law. The attributes of the threefold godhead are: will, love-wisdom, and action. The law of cause and consequence is called the principle of action. Self, action, and the law, are mutually co-related. The Self acts. The Self is classically known as the Thinker. In self-conscious action, including sacrifice, one is always more aware of the consequences of actions, and less intent on the causes. There is always a sense of reward or recompense in self-conscious sacrifice. That is fine but, as Christian mystical aspirants, we ache in our hearts for something more than that. We ache for something beyond Self.

“Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” is a passage worthy of careful scrutiny, with regard to Self and sacrifice. Self love is a definition of vanity. One certainly doesn’t want to love one’s neighbor in vanity. There must be a better interpretation of this phrase. It seems to lie in the word “thyself.” If one reads “thyself” as “thy self,” the phrase has a very different meaning, a Christian meaning. In this interpretation, the neighbor becomes not only the object of love, but also, the self. Thus the sentence becomes an excellent definition of altruism. Altruism is the love of Life Spirit, the home of Christ. Life Spirit transcends the world of thought, it transcends the law. Life Spirit is the universal selfness, out of which the Self, the law, and all other principles and ideas are conceived. Sacrifices made for the Christ’s sake, take one beyond self—“my burden is light.” Christian sacrifice is of a different world. It cannot be completely comprehended by the world of the self. Acting for the Christ’s sake, elevates one out of personal problems, and even considerations of the individuality. It may be argued that, even if one acts for the Christ’s sake, the acts will still have reactions, consequences. That cannot be denied, BUT if one is in Christ, one’s evaluations are in Christ and not in Self; personal consequences aren’t as important. In transition to that ideal, one yearns to do things with no return, which is impossible. One respects one’s responsibilities, and sees and strengthens the beauty in all things, but one’s heart is with love, and for the other, and one is unmoved even by positive pride. Clearly, this is a distant ideal. We want something a bit more practical to our present lives as we grow into that ideal. Our Elder Brothers provide an excellent example.

In a serious study of astrology and destiny, one realizes we have far less freedom than we think we do. Our lives are not completely destined, but they certainly aren’t completely free either. In some little things we have freedom, but not so much in the big things. Our spouses, our friends, major events, almost all, are determined before we come to rebirth. In many unpleasant things, we can try to minimize suffering by learning from the experiences, and getting the most out of them. It will continue to be this way, until we can decrystalize our attitudes, which have been hardened into materialism, and redeem our burden of destiny, by regenerating destiny into positivity, through creative activities. Gradually, lifetime by lifetime, we master ourselves, control our destiny, and become more free. As we do so, we sense purpose in Life Spirit beyond Self, and we long to live in transcendent purposefulness. Some long to be selfless, a mistake. Eons of evolution under the care of divine, creative hierarchies have helped us to establish our selfhood. Our selfhood, and the waking self-consciousness it brings to the creation, are a good part of our service, and part of our purpose. To dissolve selfhood, were it possible, would be far more egregious than suicide. Recognition of the perspective of self in eternity, is a kind of survival instinct in eternity. We preserve and treasure our individual perspective as much as we do our life here on earth. If we don’t neglect selfhood, and we certainly don’t destroy it, what do we do? We maintain and grow it, with respect for it, and we surrender it to the purpose of it found in Life Spirit, to Christ, without abandoning it. These are high sounding words but what do they mean?

When we probe deeply into our selves, we find in their emptiness, something common to all, an essence of being, a selfness which is the same for all. It is as if the self is an eternal, eddy, among innumerable others, in an ocean of selfness, in an ocean of purpose. In this ocean, we vainly try to draw manifest matter into the emptiness of our eddies to fulfill that purpose. We do have responsibility in our material work, and are intent in ourselves in our work, but not to the clogging loss of purpose. We are preoccupied with ourselves and our work. We endue it with independent reality. We even identify with it, instead of the greater reality of the unified selfness, which some call the Over-Self. When we do this, we experience the pains and sorrows of the little life, personally. We are lost to the consolidation of our emptiness. We are prisoners of the law, and of our destiny. However, as we dissolve our frozen destiny, and transmute it into soul material; as we alchemize facts into truth, we free ourselves from attachment and personalization. We do not destroy our selfhood, we actually clarify and intensify its definition, BUT we see and identify it with the selfness. We transfer attention from the emptiness, the necessary nothing, the eddy, to the fullness of the ocean. These are, again, lofty sounding words, but what do they mean in living reality?

These words mean that we live life, and everything in it, voluntarily. We call voluntary life freedom, which is a skill at living. We do not cease to live, we live for the other, for the all, for the ultimate other, Christ in the Life Spirit— not an unreal state, but a state of greater reality, a more authentic existence. Some think, in error, that such a state is blissful and free from pain and sorrow, and they seek to live exclusively in bliss. Bliss there certainly is, but not exclusively. The reality is that everything, including pain and sorrow, is vivified. The grief and agony that Christ experiences in bringing love to redeem us, is not imaginary, though the magnitude of its reality is incomprehensible to our current consciousness. It evokes inestimable compassion. It is like the compassion one feels for a drunk, who is wreaking havoc on himself and others, without knowing it. It is pitiful. The difference is in magnitude. The compassion Christ feels for our ignorant self-harm is many times more than we feel for a drunk, or a lunatic, acting in ignorance.

The life of Christ is not a passive life, it is highly active. It is a life of giving, voluntary giving of self in selfness; a giving of life, Life Spirit life. It is a giving of love, not the emotion of love in the desire world, but a love beyond words. This great giving is attractive, in an attraction that is a higher octave of the principle of attraction in the desire world. The love of Christ draws into Life Spirit the soul stuff of our sins, where they are transmuted into spirit. We certainly cannot experience the full life of Christ in our present state, but we can emulate it as well as we can. In fact, we are commanded to do so. However, we can only do so, to the degree that we are free. Whether we suffer or rejoice, we experience in our own destiny, under the law. We stagger under the burden of unredeemed destiny, and we blunt and inhibit our divine capacities, but we do get glimmers of light.

We have the shining examples of our Elder Brothers to show us the way. They can do what we cannot do yet. Their doings are more than the magical miracles of Saint Germain and other magicians. Their greatest work is transmutation of the highest order, which can only be done in freedom. They, by loving in the way of Christ, draw into their inner being, our nasty, unregenerate thoughts and desires. These they transmute and transform into positive things, born of the same principle, at the roots of the sins. This activity both cleans and enriches the psychic atmosphere of the earth, making it easier for all to advance. Their sacrifice is to absorb enormous suffering, to the end of betterment for all. Sacrificial martyrdom, true martyrdom.

The biblical Christ tells us we will be persecuted for his name’s sake. In the beatitudes we are told we are blessed when we are falsely reviled for his sake. We are specially blessed when we endure suffering, not as part of our auto-generated destiny, but in freedom in Christ; in the life of the Life Spirit. In doing this, the consequence of the acts, born in voluntary suffering, is relatively unimportant, the love and the new life is. It is relatively easy to learn to accept the suffering of our own causation; it is not so easy to suffer when it is not due by cause and consequence, but is taken on for the sake of others. When we can do this, the spiritual joy exceeds the suffering but we can only experience it when it is not for our own sake. The goal of authentic martyrdom is life, not death. Acts of love in the face of suffering are not suicide, they are not masochism; they are gestures in freedom, in new LIFE.

Perhaps Kirillov was not so far from truth after all.