Theos-Talk Archives (October 2004 Message tt00030)

This week I made my first visit to the Bertie County Courthouse in
Windsor, North Carolina, and after a couple of hours emerged with
copies of 33 19th-century deeds recording the land transactions of my
Johnson ancestors. Handling these original documents conveyed quite a
stronger "charge" than reading on microfilm at the State Archives in
Raleigh. The thrill of anticipation as I drove to Windsor, and the
awe of handling century-and-a-half old documents recording my
great-great-grandparents' connection to the earth, were remarkably
similar to the feelings I had when doing the research that led to my
books. Heading to Virginia Beach to use the ARE Library or interview
people who had known Edgar Cayce evoked the same thrill and awe. I
had known it before while tracing the steps of the TS Founders across
India, and later using the library at Duke University, rich in Indian
history studies, to get background information on the individuals they
were involved with in India. Gurdjieff calls it "magnetic center,"
that mysterious thing inside us that vibrates in resonance to objects
of spiritual longing. It led me to pursue the spiritual genealogies
of Blavatsky and Cayce—that is, to try to identify the ancestries of
the doctrines synthesized in their writings (and Readings) and the
stories of how those teachings evolved.

But there are huge and significant differences between pursuing one's
literal physical genealogy and pursuing intellectual or spiritual
genealogies of individuals with religious followings. I've come to
know dozens of new people in the last three years, distant kin
intrigued by the same ancestors. And whatever information I uncover
about our ancestors, or whatever hypotheses it inspires, have been
eagerly welcomed and appreciated. If great-great-granddaddy was a
deserter, an adulterer, a murderer (and one of them appears to have
been all these things), none of my fellow family historians is aghast,
furious, or disappointed. They're fascinated and intrigued. It never
occurs to them to say that because I'm "claiming" he was those things,
that it proves what an unspiritual mind I have, or that I'm inspired
by evil forces, or trying to tear down his reputation in order to make
money. None of the unflattering information I've uncovered about
ancestors has ever inspired anyone to declare me subhuman as was
recently done here to another historical researcher!

What accounts for this difference? Physical kinship is undeniable and
cannot be taken away. If great-great-granddaddy was an adulterous
murderous deserter, that in no way detracts from his great-greatness.
It's a fact, not subject to threat by any information unearthed. 
Whereas the great greatness of any spiritual leader is perceived as
something vulnerable to attack. And if they aren't so great great as
we imagined them to be, our relationship to them begins to seem less
worthwhile. No one can declare me not to be cousin Paul any more
because of what I tell them about some black sheep uncle. But they
sure as hell can tell me I'm not a Theosophist, or even a decent human
being, if the black sheep "uncle" is some revered figure in
Theosophical history. 

This family history research looks to be a project that will take up
the rest of my life, so I don't foresee any return to "spiritual"
topics. And yet what topic is any more spiritual than tracing and
understanding one's connections to the source of all life? Ultimately
that is the quest of the genealogist, and explains the rapid rise of
popularity of this pursuit thanks to the advances made possible by the
Internet.

Paul Johnson