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Visible Representations of Divine Principles

A number of years ago I was in a little town, Darjeeling, on the northern boundary of India where it met Tibet. There were several visitors from various countries and the hotel management decided it would be appropriate to give a little entertainment in the Tibetan spirit. About half a dozen Tibetan dancers with their masks and regalia were brought in to entertain, among them a boy about eight years old, a cute, chubby little rascal whom everyone liked immediately. When the time for the dance came he put on one of the most grotesque masks you would ever want to see. He really looked like a nightmare. Everyone knew it was the little boy, but during the dance he moved over very rapidly toward the audience as though he were getting ready to attack them, and you should have seen the audience scatter. They all knew it was the little boy, but with the mask something happened—a real spirit, ancient and primordial, moved in on these people. Subconsciously they were terrified.

In the Japanese Noh drama many of the themes are highly sacred. In the various performances the actors are nearly always concealed behind wood-carved masks that are well painted and decorated. They have no expression except that of the original carving, but under a careful han-

Palmer Hall

dling of lights, particularly by the postures of the head in relationship to the source of light, these faces seem to change. In moments of joy the face really seems to smile, and in sorrow the face looks very tragic. While it is done with a wooden mask, everyone feels it. The skill with which the mask is handled is the principal factor.

In the Southwest of the United States there are ritualistic dances by the various Indian tribes—the Zunis, Hopis, and Navahos. These dances often include masked figures. Everyone knows that these masked figures are members of the local community. At one of these I attended, a man with a mask very carefully developed but rather crude in concealment had two children in the audience. They knew that it was their father, but when he danced toward them with the sacred pollen they knelt instinctively as though he were a god. Something happens when the masks begin to take a part in religious rituals.

Masks were used in Egypt, we know—in the temple mysteries—and even today the various carvings and manuscripts of Egyptian origin show human beings with the masks of birds and animals.

The Greeks also used masks in their theater. Nearly always a mask becomes a complete change of personality. If accompanied by adequate religious ritual the mask becomes the secret of the development of a peculiar theological belief that there was a divine power in the mask. Worn correctly and under ritual supervision, it brought a deity into contact with humanity. In the course of time mask cults have faded, but in many primitive countries they still survive.

It is almost impossible for the average person to understand a completely abstract principle. It is very hard to visualize something that has no form or to visualize an energy which is completely unembodied. From very early times it apparently became necessary to present nearly all of the important truths of life symbolically. We have wonderful symbolic books like “Aesop’s Fables” or “Pilgrim’s Progress.” We have very wonderful ancient sculpturing and statuary, paintings, carvings of all kinds, and icons which are presumed to have certain sacred value in themselves. You can go from one end of the world to the other among