The Passion of the Free Cheese
As sad as it may be, it is a fact: when some new spiritual teaching emerges, the initial reaction of society to it is to treat it like a scam. In the sense that here we go again — another bunch of swindlers promising the Truth and spiritual development to gullible folk, only to fleece them under this pretext, profiting from their credulity. Again, sadly but also truly: sometimes that is exactly how it turns out. There are well-known examples. So to some extent, this suspicion is justified. But what is frustrating is that, due to a number of fraudsters using their so-called “spiritual teachings” as a means of deceit and enrichment, even those who genuinely wish to help people progress spiritually come under suspicion. How much Truth there is in their teachings is a separate question. They may themselves be deluded, yet still sincerely wish to help others. And yet they, too, are eyed with suspicion as if they were con artists, and people wait for the moment they begin demanding money or your flat. Although, probably, there is no teaching that hasn’t attracted at least some followers. And, as it happens, it is often precisely the swindlers that people follow most willingly, genuinely allowing themselves to be robbed. Apparently, it is because such types know how to appeal to the public’s consumer instincts, offering what people want and are prepared to pay for. And as a result — as was already said — all teachings, without distinction, begin to be suspected of the worst. Without even trying to look deeper or to verify those suspicions.
And if they do try, those suspicions are often only reinforced. Because it usually turns out there are obligatory contributions — a tithe or something similar — or at the very least persistent requests for donations. This is not a crime — for this is also practised in respectable world religions. For example, Muslims pay zakat, and for Christians, it is customary to donate to the Church, even leaving bequests in its favour. But in cases where it is not the major denominations of these religions, and especially when it comes to teachings of an entirely different kind, the same practices are viewed with suspicion. Yet if one thinks about it, any organisation engaged in any kind of activity needs funding. In the case of spiritual organisations, the activities might include educational, enlightening, or charitable work. All of this requires funds. And such organisations are non-commercial and, as a rule, do not support themselves through business. To be able to do anything at all, or simply to keep themselves going and cover their own needs, they are left with member contributions, appeals for donations, and searching for sponsors. There is nothing terrible about that. But to the outside eye, all of this appears almost criminal.
It turns out that the teachings most likely to inspire trust are those which do nothing of the sort — which do not collect mandatory contributions and do not ask for donations. You might say: “Do such ones even exist? And if they do, how do they survive?” I can answer with full confidence: yes, they do exist. At least one such teaching certainly does. It is the Teaching of the United Temple.
The TUT has no contributions, and it has never asked anyone for donations or sponsorship. Never — meaning, for the entire duration of its existence, since 1996. During this time, there have been several offers of financial assistance, but they were declined because they came from, let’s say, dubious sources. For instance, I was once offered a sum of 150,000 dollars — “to promote the Teaching”, as the intermediary putting forward the offer phrased it. However, the source of this “donation” was certain criminal organisations, and I deemed it unacceptable to accept it. Other offers were less generous and came from different kinds of sources, but they too were deemed inappropriate.
So how is the Teaching funded? It isn’t. Practically all its activity consists of my communication with disciples and the writing of various materials on the Teaching. The expenses are those I am able to cover myself: Internet fees and low-cost hosting for our websites. Paid advertising, paid publications or printing materials at our own expense, translating our books into other languages, organising any events — all things that cost money — lie beyond our means. To say this hampers the development of the Teaching is an understatement. This is one of the reasons why the Teaching, although it has existed for more than twenty years, is still little known and has few followers. As already mentioned, any activity requires funds — and so the lack of them closes off nearly all paths and opportunities for promotion, for that very “advancement” of the Teaching. But this is a consciously chosen stance. And we can honestly say to everyone: “Here, no one will look into your pocket, no one will demand payment, no one will beg or extort financial help. Everything the Teaching can give, it gives freely.”
It would seem the ideal situation — precisely the kind that all those inclined to suspect spiritual systems of fraud would wish to see. And who would have thought that this would itself turn out to be another problem, right? Yet that’s exactly how it has turned out.
When someone interested in the Teaching asks how much the training costs and is told that it is free, they immediately become wary. When they ask what kind of fees followers pay and are told “none”, they become even more wary. Two popular sayings instantly spring to their mind.
The first is: “Anything truly valuable costs money.” Yes, it is hard to argue with that. The better the product, the higher the price. But can Truth be considered a product? Most people are convinced that yes, it can. This is not just any old thing — this is Truth, one of the greatest values in life. Therefore, it must cost dearly. And many people and organisations profit from this notion, demanding significant fees for spiritual training. And those wishing to attain Truth are often quite happy to pay. They are not even fazed by the fact that “to attain” has, for them, turned into “to purchase”, and that the spiritual sphere more and more resembles a marketplace where one pops in from time to time to shop. The merchant-buyer mentality of consumer society has crept into the spiritual sphere too. And the seeker of Truth, mutated into a customer, reasons thus: “If they’re not taking money here, then they clearly have nothing truly valuable to offer in terms of spiritual knowledge.”
Even some of my own disciples, who know the Teaching well and understand how much it can give, say to me bitterly and ironically: “If you charged money for the training, there would be far more people wishing to study.” Perhaps so. But I cannot imagine charging for the Truth. It is for everyone. The Teaching came into being in order to convey it to all, not for someone to profit from it. And I walked a path two and a half thousand years long and passed through the Abyss not to earn money.
The second saying is: “The only free cheese is in the mousetrap.” It sounds like common sense, but at its core it denies the very possibility that one person might do something for another selflessly. Yes, it might help someone avoid a trap — but it also teaches others never to expect decent, humane, altruistic behaviour from anyone. In helping in one way, it destroys something that must never be lost: faith in people, faith in goodness. And in this particular case, it compels suspicion of dark motives in the one who says: “Here, you can receive Truth — and you won’t be asked for a single penny.” That’s frightening, isn’t it? They’ll spend time, energy, and nerves on you — and want nothing in return… Sounds implausible, doesn’t it? For a society where everything has a price and even spirituality is commodified — undeniably so. And you know what’s saddest about it? That although many people understand how abnormal this situation is, even they become afraid when they encounter something not crushed by its weight, something normal — something as it should be. They reject the abnormal — but no longer believe in the normal, and are even afraid of it.
This fear has become another problem for the Teaching. What it can offer seems to many like “free cheese”, and the Teaching itself like the mousetrap. Therefore — a threat. When I say “no” in response to a question about fees, I am sometimes asked: “So who’s funding you?” I answer: “No one.” And that alone prompts the questioner to suspect something dodgy. For everyone understands what I’ve said here: any teaching, to exist and operate, needs money, funds. And here we are told there are no funds — yet the teaching exists. And they’re offering instruction for free. That’s just not possible! There’s clearly something shady going on here — there must be a catch!
People who are just starting to take an interest in the Teaching are usually surprised that in all these years, it hasn’t been properly promoted. In front of them are examples where, with a clever approach to PR, a newly emerged teaching gains followers within a couple of years, becomes widely known and — I shall not shy from the word — wealthy. But good PR requires investment — and not a small amount. So the Teaching’s obscurity matches perfectly with the fact that it doesn’t take money from followers and doesn’t seek donations or sponsors. But not everyone, to put it mildly, sees this match. A person asks: “Why are you still so little known?” — and a few minutes later, says warily: “You don’t take money? Then there must be a catch — because there’s no such thing as free cheese.” Yet making the logical connection between the two, and adding the simple observation that if there were a catch in the free nature of it all, the Teaching would clearly be doing better — that somehow doesn’t follow for them.
Overall, what we see is a strange, frankly contradictory situation. If you, being a spiritual Teacher, take money — then you are immediately suspected of fraud and greed. So a proper spiritual teaching, one that is for the people and not someone’s pocket, should be free, right? But if you don’t take money, some conclude on that basis alone that you have nothing worth offering, while others begin to suspect a trick, a trap. So it’s bad either way. This leads to the question: what exactly does the public want? And a second: how is one to please it?
To the first question I shrug and reply: it seems the public itself doesn’t quite know what it wants. It gets tangled in its own criteria. And the answer to the second question is this: one should not try to please anyone. One should do what one believes to be right and just. If I don’t take payment, it is simply because what I do is not something for which one can rightly charge. And let people think of that what they will.
The Teaching still has much time ahead. Hundreds, even thousands of years. A global task such as the betterment of people and the world is not a quick undertaking. And since the aim of the Teaching lies precisely in this — and not in enriching any individual or group — we can afford not to chase after money. Let the work progress slowly, so long as it is carried out with clean hands.
For me personally, this simplifies life. There is no need to rack one’s brain over whom to squeeze for something or how to then avoid responsibility. No need to waste one’s inner and mental strength on such things. One can simply devote oneself to one’s work — the work of one’s life. That, believe me, is worth a great deal. Or don’t believe me.
© Atarkhat, 2018

