In 1244, the most respected religious teacher in Konya met a wandering dervish named Shams of Tabriz, and the meeting ended the teacher’s career on the spot. Jalal al-Din Rumi had been a theologian of rank, head of his late father’s community, secure in his learning. Four years later Shams vanished, probably violently, and the scholar’s grief broke open into poetry that has not stopped moving readers in eight centuries. ...
Most scriptures open by establishing authority. These two open by surrendering it. The Tao Te Ching begins with a warning that its own subject cannot be put into words, and the Gospel of Thomas begins by daring you to figure out what its words mean, with no promise that anyone will help. Two little books, composed on opposite ends of the ancient world with no possibility of contact, and they greet the reader with the same strange bow. ...
Around the year 1300, the most celebrated preacher in Germany told his congregations that God gives birth to his Son inside the human soul, and that the birth is happening now. Six centuries later, an Egyptian farmer dug up a banned gospel teaching that the kingdom of God is inside you, spread out and present, waiting to be noticed. The preacher never read that gospel. Nobody in his world could have. By his lifetime every known copy had been sealed in a jar beneath the desert for roughly nine hundred years, and it stayed there for six hundred more. Put his sermons beside its sayings, though, and the two begin finishing each other’s sentences. ...