Jung was born in the time of nihilism which could be characterised as a time when Materialism was tightening its death grip on our collective throats.
The nightmare of materialism, which has turned the life of the universe into an evil, useless game, is not yet past; it holds the awakening soul still in its grip.[1]
Materialism insists on there being only one world, that of our ordinary empirical, verifiable one, as privileged by Science. So, When Jung was challenged in 1913 by his soul to go beyond the one world he knew (i.e. our ordinary empirical world), he flew into a murderous rage:
Spirit of the depths approached me and said, “Climb down into your depths, sink” But I was indignant at him and said, “How can I sink? I am unable to do this myself.” Then the spirit spoke words to me that appeared ridiculous, and he said, “Sit yourself down, be calm.” But I cried out indignantly: “How frightful, it sounds like nonsense, do you also demand this of me?… is this your way, my soul? The blood boils in me and I would strangle you if I could seize you. You weave the thickest darknesses and I am like a madman caught in your net. But I yearn, teach me.” but my soul spoke to me saying, “My path is light.” Yet I indignantly answered. “Do you call light what we men call the worst darkness? Do you call day night?” To this my soul spoke a word that roused my anger: “My light is not of this world.” I cried, “I know of no other world.” … Where is security? Where is solid ground? Where is light? Your darkness is not only darker the night, but bottomless as well. If it is not going to be knowledge, then perhaps it’ll do without speech and words too? [2]
Jung’s “yearning” prevailed and he did obey and “sink down”. And we now have the record of his descent into Hell as the published works of The Red Book.
Another thirty-odd years passed before Jung could complete his unconditional surrender to the other:
After the illness a fruitful period of work began for me. A good many of my principal works were written only then. The insight I had had, or the vision of the end of all things, gave me the courage to undertake new formulations. I no longer attempted to put across my own opinion, but surrendered myself to the current of my thoughts. Thus one problem after the other revealed itself to me and took shape.
I came across a remarkable essay in The New Yorker recently. Julien Baker—singer, songwriter, is twenty-two years old and already has been through the grinding mill of modern society’s offerings to the young. And she has this to say about surrender to the other:
A house show feels like a true faith community, socialist and communal. The lead singer is less than two feet away from thirty people who are screaming the same thing. Punk teaches the same inversion of power as the Gospel—you learn that the coolest thing about having a microphone is turning it away from your own mouth.[3]
That’s how easy surrender can be, but there is something about the necessity of going through the mill as belonging to surrender in our modern world, so hardened as it is by materialism. After all, mills grind slowly but exceedingly fine….
I once dreamed:
I am sitting with the Pope and the American Archbishop. I am talking animatedly with the Bishop about Materialism, reaching its end. “It’s taken its time”, he said. I agreed and said that it must be lived through to the end before something else can come through. I was charged with a fire that suffused my face which glowed. The Bishop got caught up in our discussion interrupting me but the Pope saw that I was infused and leaned over to his Bishop and said in a soft voice in Latin, to listen, stay quiet, don’t stop me from talking. I somehow understood … we sat in the silence. He watched me carefully, my face glowing softly, then his eyes rolled back and he said some more in Latin that I could not catch.
[1] Introduction to Kandinsky’s The Spiritual and Art
[2] The Red Book, Liber Primus, “Splitting of the Spirit” 240
[3] https://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/the-raw-devotion-of-julien-baker?mbid=social_twitter
