Carl Jung recounted the following story, told to him by Richard Wilhelm, who lived in China for many years:¹

There was a great drought where Wilhelm lived; for months there had not been a drop of rain and the situation became catastrophic. The Catholics made processions, the Protestants made prayers, and the Chinese burned joss-sticks and shot off guns to frighten away the demons of the drought, but with no result.
Finally the Chinese said, 'We will fetch the rain-maker.' And from another province a dried up old man appeared. The only thing he asked for was a quiet little house somewhere, and there he locked himself in for three days.
On the fourth day the clouds gathered and there was a great snow-storm at the time of the year when no snow was expected, an unusual amount, and the town was so full of rumours about the wonderful rain-maker that Wilhelm went to ask the man how he did it.
In true European fashion he said: 'They call you the rain-maker; will you tell me how you made the snow?'
And the little Chinese said: 'I did not make the snow; I am not responsible.'
'But what have you done these three days?'
'Oh, I can explain that. I come from another country where things are in order. Here they are out of order; they are not as they should be by the ordinance of heaven. Therefore the whole country is not in Tao, and I also am not in the natural order of things because I am in a disordered country. So I had to wait three days until I was back in Tao and then naturally the rain came.'”

In this article we'll consider the problem of spiritual teachers who misuse devotees for sexual ends.

Nearly every major religion teaches that we would be wise to treat each other as we would like to be treated…because eventually what we do comes back to us. So why do spiritual teachers so often exploit others sexually? After all, many possess genuine insight and a gift for inspiring others. It is also evident that they certainly would not want to be used sexually as they sometimes use those in their flocks.

In Taoist, Hindu and Buddhist art, deities often are shown as part male, part female — or androgynous. There are also curious traditions maintaining that humankind itself once consisted of androgynous beings. Most insist that sexual desire is directly linked both to the split into genders and — with careful cultivation - to our potential for re-experiencing our native androgyny.

Does this rich and diverse tradition, hinting at an experience of completion or unity, encompass a mystery that requires control and rechanneling of the earthy aspects of sexuality? And if it does, how does one go about achieving it?

It is satisfying to see academics begin to acknowledge the apparent integrity of the early so-called gnostics, and consider the possibility that the Sacrament of the Bridal Chamber calls for some type of desire-free union of man and woman.¹ I’d like to share an insight about the possible nature of this mysterious union, in case it may have merit.

The Hindu legend of Parvati, who is the primary personification of the Divine Feminine in the Hindu tradition, paints a fuller picture of the true spiritual depth underlying Tantra than we usually see in the West. It also points to a more vital, disciplined and profound role for women who feel drawn to the Tantric path known as the "left-hand path." (The "left-hand path" incorporates sexual union rather than requiring celibacy.)

The tale began with the cosmos in an uproar because Lord Shiva, the Hindu tradition’s chief male deity ("The Auspicious") was in a profound sulk. The other gods had dismembered and scattered the corpse of his first wife (who had brought about her own death after her father insulted Shiva) in an effort to stop his destructive mourning. Utterly disheartened, he renounced the world and resumed his life as an ascetic in the remote Himalayas. Without a living Shakti (manifest Divinity) to balance his Transcendent Divinity, he lost the desire to act in the world.

My husband and I were fortunate to be raised in sex-positive households. Gary’s father worked in schools as a sex educator as part of his career. My grandmother was a social worker - for whom no questions were off limits - and my mother’s attitude was quite open too. Religion was not a big factor in either of our families.

When we became sexually active in our late teens, long before we met, we did so with enthusiasm. Orgasms were a natural part of our explorations. Like most folks, we assumed they were the ideal conclusions to a sexual encounter - for both partners. Sex clearly seemed meant for pleasure.

More than 70 years ago, Denis de Rougemont, the late Swiss scholar, wrote a fascinating book called Love in the Western World. In it he theorizes that Tantra, which ignited in India some time before 800 C.E. from much older roots, traveled west via the Muslim world under the umbrella of divine passion, or fana (the passing away of the self). Fana was the theme of mystical Arab love poetry and song. It infected the Spanish Moors within a few centuries.

Clarity of mind brought about by dependence upon what is right can transform the world and perfect it….When pressures mount, don’t become explosive. Instead, work quietly and diligently to alleviate them. At times of high energy, don’t throw yourself away in undisciplined euphoria. Work toward making the best use of the energy to enact new ideas and further your goals. When energies subside, use the time to rest and gather your strength instead of exhausting yourself with useless struggling....Synergetic interactions will provide ideas and inspirations, generate surplus energy for continued growth, and refine communications and perceptions. Hexagram 30, I Ching [trans. R.L. Wing]

For those who enjoy historical tidbits about others who wrestled with how to channel their sexual energy upward, "Right Marital Living" is a colorful piece with an aura of tragedy. Its author, Ida Craddock, was a Philadelphian born in 1857, heavily influenced by Theosophical Society works and other mystical writings, some of which were just appearing from the Far East in translation.

Her essays on sacred sexuality and natural birth control drew fire from a man named Anthony Comstock and his self-appointed "Society for the Suppression of Vice," who had her writings declared pornographic. She was arrested twice. In 1902, on the day she was to be sentenced the second time, she committed suicide leaving behind an outraged letter to the public. Her death brought disgrace to the "Society for the Suppression of Vice," which disbanded not long afterward.