Mondscheinlandschaft - c. 1830
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I have come to Christ through liberty and through an intimate experience of the paths of freedom.
My Christian faith is not a faith based on habit or tradition. It was won through an experience of the inner life of a most painful character. I knew no compulsion in my religious life, and I had no experience of authoritarianism either in faith or in the sphere of religious devotion. Can one oppose to this fact dogmatic formulas or abstract theologies? I answer No, for in my case they will never be really convincing. Nikolai Berdyaev ~ Freedom and the Spirit My experience mirrors Berdyaev's to a great degree, particularly the bit about coming to Christ through the paths of freedom. Like Berdyaev, my faith is not based on habit or tradition, although my faith did begin in those--or, rather, were inculcated through those. Had I not found the paths of freedom Berdyaev cites, I likely would have followed the millions of other recent apostates and ceased being Christian altogether. I was never moved by any of the external compulsions and coercions organized religion insists upon and never felt the fear and trembling before externals that keeps so many traditional/conventional Christians "in line." And to those who have countered my faith with dogmatic formulas and abstract theologies...well, knock yourselves out, but I will never find any of it really convincing, particularly now when the bulk of the formulas and theologies fail to serve even the most superficial of spiritual concerns. And to those who claim that I do not really follow Christ, that what I follow is anti-Christian, I say... Dr. Charlton wrote a fascinating post focusing on what “One might call the special gift of women 'creative receptivity', and it should be used in close co-operation with the 'creative activity' of men...”
Citing the four instances featuring Mary Magdelene in the Fourth Gospel—there are actually five, with the wedding at Cana being the first—Dr. Charlton elucidates on Mary’s creative receptivity in co-operating with the creative activity of Jesus: 1. Mary weeping at Jesus's feet at the resurrection of Lazarus, her brother - expressing direct sadness and empathy for the here-and-now situation; 2. Mary anointing Jesus's feet in Bethany and wiping them with her hair - demonstrating her knowledge of Jesus's divine status, and a focus on the present moment - and "indifferent" to larger and abstract masculine issues such as "the poor". 3. Mary's presence at the foot of the cross during the crucifixion: being-present, while Jesus dies, in sympathetic participation. 4. Mary's discovery of the empty tomb, and her later first-witnessing of the resurrected Jesus; Mary apparently visited the tomb alone, and with no functional purpose other than - again - to be there, to participate in Jesus's condition. When she meets, and then recognizes, the resurrected Jesus; she desires primarily to touch him - again, an archetypically female response to the situation. None of Mary's behaviours are surprising, but in their here-and-now immediacy and care, they do emphasize the contrast with Jesus's own "Big Picture" words and behaviours. Mary's behaviours emphasize too that "creative receptivity" which is missing from, and complementary to, and necessary to the completion of, the masculine creative activity of Jesus. This is one reason why I consider that Mary Magdalene later became one of the dyad that is the Holy Ghost; our guide (masculine active creativity) and comforter (feminine receptive creativity). I mention and include the above because my recent perusals of some sections of Berdyaev’s Solitude and Society led me to the striking passage that connects to the principle Dr. Charlon described as it connects to the pursuit of truth and knowledge: The freedom implicit in the exercise of knowledge receives its illumination from the Logos. But it is also related to Eros. To pursue knowledge without any consciousness of love, merely to seek power, is a form of demonism. Just off the cuff, the demonism Berdyaev mentions is characteristic of most of what constitutes contemporary Christian discourse and apologetics, particularly of the traditional sort. To say that such discourse overemphasizes the role of the Logos would be a gross understatement. It is more accurate to say that such discourse focuses exclusively on the “illumination of the Logos” while actively conspiring to deny the reality, relevance, or existence love plays in the pursuit of knowledge. How? By the notable silence on the ‘creativity receptivity’ of the feminine as it pertains to the spiritual. It may therefore be affirmed that knowledge is essentially cosmogonic. It should consider reality carefully and examine it conscientiously; for moral pathos is the true inspiration and urge for our quest for truth. The subjective freedom thus generated by the Logos transfigures reality. Berdyaev describes knowledge as cosmogonic, meaning that it must drill down into the foundation of core assumptions concerning the creation or origin of the universe but do so from the perspective of moral pathos, implying the evocation of feeling and emotion in which the subjective quest for truth must be grounded. Without that grounding, the emphasis on pure Logos becomes cold and clinical in its methods and approaches. The nature of knowledge is conjugal; it is both male and female, it is the conjunction of these two principles, the impregnation of the feminine element by virile meaning. Reading Berdyaev is inherently problematic due to issues arising from translation, but for this post, let’s assume the word conjugal is a faithful and precise translation of Berdyaev’s thought. If it is, then it is fascinating in its implications when compared to the relationship between Mary Magdelene and Jesus (inherent in the Holy Ghost), which Dr. Charlton denotes as “dyadic.” Conjugal relates directly to marriage--to the union of two distinct yet wholly compatible individuals or forces. Moreover, conjugal stresses the joining of the two principles, in this case, the connection of eros and logos, as ideal and necessary. Knowledge, thinking, and spiritual activity are made fuller by a dyadic relationship between the two principles. On the flip side, knowledge, thinking, and spiritual activity lacking this dyadic interplay and connection between active male creativity and receptive female creativity leads to a state of spiritual lopsidedness. Either the virile meaning inherent in the Logos denies that it requires a receptor, or the receptive meaning inherent in feminine creativity denies that it requires virile meaning to be “fertile.” Looking back at what I have recorded above, I see much conflation in the terms and principles I have touched upon. Still, if we remember that the material just is a subset of the spiritual and that the essence of spirit is conjugal and dyadic rather than single and un-espoused, the conflations melt away and begin to make sense. Virile meaning without a receptor is aggressive domineering posing as truth. Receptive creativity sans virile meaning is infertile passivity masquerading as truth. Spirit is the marriage or union of the active (masculine) with the receptive (feminine). I often use the terms direct knowledge and primary thinking on this blog, but I'm sure I do an inadequate job explaining and describing what these are and what they mean.
In light of this, I'll turn to Berdyaev, whose focus on the creative act approximates what primary thinking entails to some degree (bold added): Truth is not objective, ordinary reality, reflected in the knower and entering into him from outside, but rather the enlightenment, the transfiguration of reality: it is the introduction into the world's data of a quality, which was not there before truth was revealed and known. Truth is not conformity with what we call being, but rather the kindling of a light within being. I am in darkness and seek the light; I do not yet know truth but I seek it. By this very fact I affirm the existence of Truth and light, existence in another sense than the existence of the world's realities. My seeking is already the dawning light, and truth already beginning to reveal itself. -- Truth and Revelation Truth is not something given objectively, but rather a creative achievement. It is creative discovery, rather than the reflected knowledge of an object or of being. Truth ... is the creative transfiguration of reality. -- Truth and Revelation I wish to know, not actuality, but the truth about actuality. And I may learn what this truth is, only because in me, the knowing subject, there is a source of truth and because I may communicate with this truth. --The Beginning and the End The discovery of Truth is a free act of the will, not alone an intellectual act; it is the turning of man's whole being toward creative values. The criterion lies in this very act of the Spirit. There is no criterion of truth outside of the witness of truth itself, and it is wrong to seek absolute guarantees, which always demean the truth. -- Truth and Revelation Premise 1: Nothing can be created from nothing.
Premise 2: The universe is something. Conclusion: Therefore, the universe was created from something. The argument is a valid deductive argument because the conclusion logically follows from the premises. In this case, the conclusion logically follows from the premises based on the rules of deductive reasoning. Determining whether the argument is sound involves assessing both its validity and the truth of the premises. Okay, let’s do that. Validity: As mentioned above, the argument is valid because the conclusion logically follows from the premises. Truth of the Premises: Premise 1: "Nothing can be created from nothing." Okay, the Law of Conservation of Energy supports this as a philosophic principle because energy cannot be created or destroyed but only transformed. You gotta love those laws, eh? Thus, this premise is reasonable and widely accepted. Premise 2: "The universe is something" is a straightforward, widely acknowledged observation. At least I hope it is. So, given that both premises are generally accepted as true and the argument is valid, we can conclude that the argument is both valid and sound. Which means it must be true! There you go. Aren’t I a clever boy? Good-bye creatio ex nihilo, hello creatio from something! Now, would I use the above to “prove” my assumptions? No, because assumptions cannot be proved. Would I want to spend hours defending this argument, utilize it in an attempt to sink the assumptions of another, or make it a foundation of my faith? No, because the philosophy of God draws me closer to philosophy than God. Secondary thinking has clear limits. Knowing the truth of the above syllogism requires intuitive direct knowledge, not logic word games.  Carl Gustav Carus - Stone Age Mound - c. 1820 I attended a Catholic school until I was fourteen. In the eighth grade, we spent most of our religion classes preparing for the sacrament of Confirmation.
The school’s deacon, Mr. Rowe—the unacknowledged winner of a non-existent Ward Cleaver look-alike contest who pandered to the predominantly Italian-descent school body by insisting that he too was Italian; all you had to do was flip the “W” in his name around; See? Mr. RoMe! — presided over the first religion class that year. With gravity befitting a funeral, he solemnly instructed us to engage in what he termed “a vital lesson in thinking about God.” The thrust of the lesson was simple enough. He gave everyone a blank sheet of white paper and instructed us to draw how we imagined God. “I want you to go beyond how you have imagined God until now. Reach deep down into your faith and see what you find there,” he said evenly. I drew an adult man. Not a venerable man with a Michelangelo-esque flowing white beard reclining on a cloud, but a nondescript man with a gentle face and a short, dark beard standing with one hand outstretched toward the viewer. Mr. Rowe made his rounds in the class while we worked. When saw my drawing, he paused and cupped his chin with his right hand. “Is that supposed to be Jesus?” he asked. “Yes. I guess it is.” Mr. Rowe’s eyes narrowed a tad, and I listened awkwardly to the tense breath he inhaled through his tight lips. “He’s wearing pants.” “Well, a lot of time has passed since he went to heaven,” I answered meekly. After another tense inhalation, Mr. Rowe nodded and continued making his rounds. When everyone finished their drawings, Mr. Rowe selected a few to present to the class. The drawings he chose as exemplary depictions of God featured things like crosses floating in the solar system, clouds emitting all sorts of strange rays and beams, amorphous blobs of energy suspended in nothingness, or three crackling orbs of ball lightning united within one seemingly translucent sphere. “These,” said Mr. Rowe, sweeping his hand dramatically past the drawings he had pinned to the corkboard, “display a mature awareness of the complexity of God as pure spirit, a vision of the Almighty glorious and absolute, rising above more underdeveloped notions of God as a man that a few students produced.” He paused and leveled a brief, pitying glance at me before turning it upon the other “God-as-man" artists in the class. “It’s not that those ideas are wrong. They’re just simple. They lack complexity. The sort of complexity you should all meditate and pray upon as you prepare for Confirmation.” I felt my face redden a little, and I averted my eyes to the floor. When I raised them again, I focused on the amorphous energy blobs and orbs of ball lightning on the corkboard. I silently wondered how anyone could ever hope to pray to those things. The incident made a deep impression on me. I ended up withdrawing from the sacrament of Confirmation altogether. Although I spend most of my free time promoting an insane anti-Christian, anti-human culture and cult of death, I also enjoy engaging in other, humbler pursuits, specifically, renovations around the house. This summer I initiated three projects, and I am happy to report that the third and most daunting of those -- the complete overhaul of the unused pig barn in the yard -- is nearly done. Here is the what the pig barn looked like after I removed its roof and began working on it in July.  And this is how it looked a couple of weeks ago.  I have added some finishing touches since then but am now focusing almost entirely on the interior, which now has brand new wiring, lights, and connectors. The heating/cooling system will be installed next week. The electrical work, heating/cooling installation, and concrete pouring are the only jobs I contracted out. I did the rest alone, which wasn't always fun or easy.
Anyway, I hope to have the whole project completed by Christmas. Note added: The lack of windows is intentional. The building is bombarded by sunlight all year round, and extra windows on the front would make the interior unbearably hot and bright in the summer. To compensate, I installed windows in the back. I refer primarily to the actual definition of the word retardation—a slowness in learning that induces problems in development, leading to hindered growth—although my use of the word is also somewhat pejorative as it also conveys my overall disapproval of those who promote fear as a spiritual virtue.
Promoting fear as virtue lies in the injunction to serve God in fear and rejoice in trembling. How this squares up with Jesus’ teaching of God, particularly in the Fourth Gospel, is a bit of a mystery to me. Of course, it’s no secret that organized Christianity has and, to some degree still does, employ the injunction to fear as a motivational tool to keep the pews and coffers full, but that is not the issue I want to focus on here. Many put a positive spin on the notion of fearing God by claiming the fear is rooted in the anxiety of unintentionally turning away from the Divine. Others cite the word fear as a mistranslation and suggest the word is closer to something like reverence, devotion, or worship. Either way, I posit that the injunction to fear God and regard such fear as a spiritual virtue is woefully misguided. As Dr. Charlton recently pointed out, the Christian God is not a God of Fear but a God of Love, and when Christians think about God, they should be doing so from the perspective of love rather than fear. Why? Fear is a poison that inhibits, impedes, and thwarts all spiritual thinking and activity. This includes all fear, not just the fear of God. People gripped by fear immediately surrender their spiritual center and grounding to the external world, which is governed by fear. Human civilization is founded upon fear. All governments and organizations utilize fear, as do all marketers, advertisers, and propagandists. The sad truth of human society and the individuals who comprise it is that nothing—nothing in the world—entices, persuades, influences, sells, controls, manipulates, or commands as effectively as fear. Whenever we allow fear to influence and govern us, we alienate ourselves from our spiritual core and disrupt and obstruct our spiritual awareness and learning. At the most fundamental level, fear is an enslaving force. It strips away all sense of spiritual freedom and renders one vulnerable to impositions and demands of external forces. One needs to look no further than the events of 2019-2022 to recognize the spiritual devastation and havoc fear can wreak on individuals and society. What we were all privy to during those years was fear-induced spiritual retardation on a grand, dare I say, epic scale. Far from being a virtue, fear is a sin—a sin that must be repented rather than embraced. Fear slices through freedom and restrains the capability of love. Far from aligning with God, an individual gripped by fear, any fear, is an individual misaligned with God and the divine purposes of Creation. Berdyaev noted that fear is never a good counselor and went as far as to cite victory over fear as the first spiritual duty of man. Victory over fear can only be achieved through freedom and love. One cannot love if one is not free, and one is not free if one cannot love. Thus, fear must be faced and overcome. And if it cannot be overcome, it must be repented, for that alone counts as spiritual victory to a great degree. Perfect love casts out fear. Unfortunately, the converse is also true—perfect fear casts out love. Mortal life, however, is about orientation and alignment, not perfection. Thus, we should aim for perfect love and eschew perfect fear. And those who preach fear and trembling should consider making the switch to love and repenting. A few weeks ago, I featured a song by the Wallners, a vitually unknown but good little indie band from Austria. Today, for your listening pleasure, I will feature another obscure indie act hailing from the small, landlocked Alpine country . Not quite the Wallners, to be sure. No, I would categorize "Flying Penguins" by "Lil Julez" as *good* in an entirely different sense of the word. Enjoy? Note: If you find yourself unwittingly singing the song in the shower this evening, well...all I can say is, you're welcome! |
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