Monday, May 20, 2013
The European Enlightenment and Buddhism
In the European enlightenment, there was an underlying presumption that science ought to replace 'religion' as the source of normative judgement. However science is not directly concerned with ethical questions - it is mainly concerned with measurement, prediction and exploration of the natural world. The scientific attitude has been generally associated with the tendency towards positivism in philosophy, which is the rejection of metaphysics and many other facets of traditional philosophy.
‘Positivism’ was a term devised to differentiate the empirical and natural sciences - 'positive sciences' - from prevailing religious and metaphysical philosophies of the age. Auguste Comte, who coined the word, saw a progression in the development of society from the ‘theological’ to the ‘scientific’ phase, in which data derived from empirical experience, and logical and mathematical treatments of such data, provide the exclusive source of all authentic knowledge. The general conception of the evolution of society from theological to scientific - a model which might be called ‘historical positivism’ - has remained an important component of the modern outlook. In this world-view, the mechanistic model and the idea that the underlying reality of the Universe was matter was, then, the culmination of the idea of Progress. In important respects, science assumes the role that was previously occupied by religion, to become something like a 'religion of scientism' which has recognizable exponents in modern society.
Secular thinking, conceived a systematic philosophy which does not make recourse to anything metaphysical, accepts the natural sciences as the umpire of reality, understanding of which is always to be sought in objective terms. Within this view, individuals are free to practice within any religious or spiritual tradition of their liking, with the proviso that it ought not to be harmful to others. But note that this radically subjectivizes the question of the validity of the truth claims of any such traditions. In practice, it is impossible to differentiate such truth claims from matters of opinion, because they are basically subject to individual conscience and beyond the purview of the objective sciences.
What I think is lacking in all of this is a model which accomodates the fact of spiritual enlightenment. There was really no idea of such a thing in the ecclesiastical traditions that the Enlightenment reacted against, where 'spiritual enlightenment' in the Eastern sense was generally the subject of ecclesiastical censure and persecution. If such an understanding is to be found, I think it has to be sought through comparitive religion, anthropology, and the study of what William James called 'the varieties of religious experience'. And I think if you do study it that way, with an open mind (which is a very hard thing to come by in regards to this question) you can see the outlines of what 'spiritual awakening' across many different cultural traditions really consists of.
One of the groundbreaking popularisers of comparitive religion, Huston Smith, addressed this in his book Forgotten Truths in which he says that in all the sacred traditions, there are "levels of being" such that the more real is also the more valuable; these levels appear in both the "external" and the "internal" worlds, "higher" levels of reality without corresponding to "deeper" levels of reality within. On the lowest level is the material/physical world, which depends for its existence on the higher levels. On the very highest/deepest level is the Infinite or Absolute, which might be identified as God in the theistic traditions. (The key point, the single most important understanding that was lost in the European Enlightenment, was the notion of a 'hierarchy of being'.)
Basically his Forgotten Truths is an attempt to recover this view of reality from materialism, scientism, and "postmodernism." It does not attempt to adjudicate among religions (or philosophies), it does not spell out any of the important differences between world faiths, and it is not intended to substitute a "new" religion for the specific faiths which already exist.
Nor should any such project be expected from a work that expressly focuses on what religions have in common. Far from showing that all religions are somehow "the same," Smith in fact shows that religions have a "common" core only at a sufficiently general level. What he shows, therefore, is not that there is really just one religion, but that the various religions of the world are actually agreeing and disagreeing about something real, something about which there is an objective matter of fact, on the fundamentals of which most religions tend to concur while differing in numerous points of detail (including practice).
I would hope that some kind of common vision is beginning to emerge from the Western encounter with Buddhism as well as from other sources. If we are able to construct a cosmology within which the fact of spiritual awakening retains the pivotal importance that it has always had for Buddhism, there is no reason why this can't accomodate, and also counter-balance, anything which the objective sciences discover. In its absence, however, we are facing only ever-increasing and more sophisticated forms of avidya which is a threat to both the human and natural environment.
(Originally posted on Dharmawheel).
‘Positivism’ was a term devised to differentiate the empirical and natural sciences - 'positive sciences' - from prevailing religious and metaphysical philosophies of the age. Auguste Comte, who coined the word, saw a progression in the development of society from the ‘theological’ to the ‘scientific’ phase, in which data derived from empirical experience, and logical and mathematical treatments of such data, provide the exclusive source of all authentic knowledge. The general conception of the evolution of society from theological to scientific - a model which might be called ‘historical positivism’ - has remained an important component of the modern outlook. In this world-view, the mechanistic model and the idea that the underlying reality of the Universe was matter was, then, the culmination of the idea of Progress. In important respects, science assumes the role that was previously occupied by religion, to become something like a 'religion of scientism' which has recognizable exponents in modern society.
Secular thinking, conceived a systematic philosophy which does not make recourse to anything metaphysical, accepts the natural sciences as the umpire of reality, understanding of which is always to be sought in objective terms. Within this view, individuals are free to practice within any religious or spiritual tradition of their liking, with the proviso that it ought not to be harmful to others. But note that this radically subjectivizes the question of the validity of the truth claims of any such traditions. In practice, it is impossible to differentiate such truth claims from matters of opinion, because they are basically subject to individual conscience and beyond the purview of the objective sciences.
What I think is lacking in all of this is a model which accomodates the fact of spiritual enlightenment. There was really no idea of such a thing in the ecclesiastical traditions that the Enlightenment reacted against, where 'spiritual enlightenment' in the Eastern sense was generally the subject of ecclesiastical censure and persecution. If such an understanding is to be found, I think it has to be sought through comparitive religion, anthropology, and the study of what William James called 'the varieties of religious experience'. And I think if you do study it that way, with an open mind (which is a very hard thing to come by in regards to this question) you can see the outlines of what 'spiritual awakening' across many different cultural traditions really consists of.
One of the groundbreaking popularisers of comparitive religion, Huston Smith, addressed this in his book Forgotten Truths in which he says that in all the sacred traditions, there are "levels of being" such that the more real is also the more valuable; these levels appear in both the "external" and the "internal" worlds, "higher" levels of reality without corresponding to "deeper" levels of reality within. On the lowest level is the material/physical world, which depends for its existence on the higher levels. On the very highest/deepest level is the Infinite or Absolute, which might be identified as God in the theistic traditions. (The key point, the single most important understanding that was lost in the European Enlightenment, was the notion of a 'hierarchy of being'.)
Basically his Forgotten Truths is an attempt to recover this view of reality from materialism, scientism, and "postmodernism." It does not attempt to adjudicate among religions (or philosophies), it does not spell out any of the important differences between world faiths, and it is not intended to substitute a "new" religion for the specific faiths which already exist.
Nor should any such project be expected from a work that expressly focuses on what religions have in common. Far from showing that all religions are somehow "the same," Smith in fact shows that religions have a "common" core only at a sufficiently general level. What he shows, therefore, is not that there is really just one religion, but that the various religions of the world are actually agreeing and disagreeing about something real, something about which there is an objective matter of fact, on the fundamentals of which most religions tend to concur while differing in numerous points of detail (including practice).
I would hope that some kind of common vision is beginning to emerge from the Western encounter with Buddhism as well as from other sources. If we are able to construct a cosmology within which the fact of spiritual awakening retains the pivotal importance that it has always had for Buddhism, there is no reason why this can't accomodate, and also counter-balance, anything which the objective sciences discover. In its absence, however, we are facing only ever-increasing and more sophisticated forms of avidya which is a threat to both the human and natural environment.
(Originally posted on Dharmawheel).
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Armed and Dangerous
Sabbe sattā ummattakā - all sentient beings are deranged - The Buddha.
In the ancient world, it was understood that the ordinary condition of people was one of delusion. In the wisdom traditions, this was encoded in various symbolic terms and allegories - but the underlying idea was that 'man is a stranger to himself' and lived in an unreal world of dreams and fantasies, which he mistakes for reality (for example, the Allegory of the Cave, in The Republic). And even though a person might have had great learning, skill and fortune, as long as s/he remained in 'ignorance', in this philosophical sense, this remained the case.
In the ancient world, it was understood that the ordinary condition of people was one of delusion. In the wisdom traditions, this was encoded in various symbolic terms and allegories - but the underlying idea was that 'man is a stranger to himself' and lived in an unreal world of dreams and fantasies, which he mistakes for reality (for example, the Allegory of the Cave, in The Republic). And even though a person might have had great learning, skill and fortune, as long as s/he remained in 'ignorance', in this philosophical sense, this remained the case.
It seems to me that most of what passes for philosophy in this day and age is simply a way of rationalizing this state of affairs. Materialism, which is basically the rejection of any real philosophy, is the determination that the world of appearance is the only world, the real world, and that the conscious ego and the forces it can master is the real self. Any notion of a truth that has to be striven for or aspired to through self abnegation and renunciation is laughingly dismissed.
Those who propose this are what the gnostics call the 'somatics' or 'hylics'. They are the common man, the puttajana, the unreformed, the mass of people. The aim of post-Enlightenment philosophy seems to be making the world safe for the ignorant: enabling you to stay in your slumber of delusion, while enjoying the illusory pleasures that it provides to the utmost degree. Of course, this situation is completely unsustainable, and the source of a great deal of our current crises, large and small. But you can't explain this to anyone - because they don't really grasp what it is that they don't understand! Any attempt to explain it meets a barrage of fire which is designed to preserve the egoic illusion. And as this egoic illusion is now equipped with weapons of absolutely unprecedented potency, the world is indeed on a knife edge. We have generations of people who have no real idea of the distinctive nature of wisdom, yet who have the most advanced technology the world has ever seen.
One grand irony in all this is that science itself has actually seen through the delusion of materialism. Science has dissolved matter into probability waves, and realized that 'the observer' occupies the pivotal role in the creation of the world of appearances. So this materialism is no longer even really supported by the science that it trumpets to everyone. But try telling that to anyone - it is taboo, forbidden. The lords of this world won't allow it. So, the problem then becomes that materialist philosophy doesn't comprehend what it is ignorant of. As far as it is concerned, there is only scientific knowledge, even though it is by now obvious that the world itself, the entire arena of scientific discovery, does not contain its own ground or its own origin. The profound nature of this shortfall is not admitted, however. The best we have is 'fallabalistic and approximative hyptheses' which will forever be subject to falsification.
So in this mentality, the very absence of wisdom, in the sense of the vision of the eternal, is now called 'wisdom'. We are told to 'live in the moment' - quite a different thing to the 'eternal now' of the sage - because life is only a moment, a flash of light in the eternal blackness of the material universe. But those who propound this teaching have no idea of what it is they are criticizing, having never gone through the dedication and effort required to actually ask the question about the nature of ultimate reality properly. So they are teaching ignorance as wisdom. That is the nature of the age we live in.
It is interesting that I find the following statement in two completely different sources. The first is by A W Tozer, an American evangelical, but a very unusual and insightful one, in my opinion:
A W Tozer, The Once-Born and the Twice-Born.
So in this mentality, the very absence of wisdom, in the sense of the vision of the eternal, is now called 'wisdom'. We are told to 'live in the moment' - quite a different thing to the 'eternal now' of the sage - because life is only a moment, a flash of light in the eternal blackness of the material universe. But those who propound this teaching have no idea of what it is they are criticizing, having never gone through the dedication and effort required to actually ask the question about the nature of ultimate reality properly. So they are teaching ignorance as wisdom. That is the nature of the age we live in.
It is interesting that I find the following statement in two completely different sources. The first is by A W Tozer, an American evangelical, but a very unusual and insightful one, in my opinion:
There are two spirits abroad in the earth: the spirit that works in the children of disobedience and the Spirit of God. These two can never be reconciled in time or in eternity. The spirit that dwells in the once-born is forever opposed to the Spirit that inhabits the heart of the twice-born. This hostility began somewhere in the remote past before the creation of man and continues to this day. The modern effort to bring peace between these two spirits is not only futile but contrary to the moral laws of the universe.
A W Tozer, The Once-Born and the Twice-Born.
Then I found this statement on a Sikh website:
http://www.gurbani.org/It is repeatedly indicated in the Gurbani that there are only two different groups of people living together on earth: Gurmukhs (followers of Divine Hukam, Truth (ਸਚ), Wisdom of the Gurbani ...) and Manmukhs (deniers or opposers of Divine Hukam, Truth (ਸਚ), Wisdom of the Gurbani ...).
Saturday, February 2, 2013
....religion has survived the assaults of reductionism because religions address distinctively human concerns, concerns that ants and computers can’t have: Who am I? What is my place? What is the point of my life? But in order to reject reductionism, we don’t necessarily have to embrace religion or the supernatural. We need to recognize that nature, including human nature, is far richer than what so-called naturalism chooses to admit as natural
Richard Polk, Anything but Human
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
On Spirit
The question in regards to the nature of 'spirit' is never 'what is that?', but 'who am I?'
'Substance is that which is always a subject, never a predicate' ~ Kelly Ross, Meaning and the Problem of Universals
'Substance is that which is always a subject, never a predicate' ~ Kelly Ross, Meaning and the Problem of Universals
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Spiritual Occlusion
Occlude, verb: block passage; obstruct a path.
Human beings generally suffer from an occlusion of perception which obstructs their view of the nature of things. Some people are aware of this - and to be aware of this is the first step in undertaking sadhana, spiritual discipline leading to an unimpeded view, to seeing how things really are.
Most are not aware of it, and so continue to suffer for reasons that in their heart of hearts they know but have chosen to forget.
Then there are those whose view is not occluded. There are the liberated beings how have outgrown and matured beyond what we accept and regard as 'the human condition'. They are the awakened ones, very few in number. All the great spiritual traditions spring from and honour those whose view is not occluded.
When spiritual teachers say that the true nature of being is obscured by craving and ignorance, it is to this occlusion they refer. And the true nature of which they speak is not some cumbersome philosophical concept understood only by academics and scholars. It is the very joy of being alive, the first flush of spring, the bliss of being which is known to kittens and children and those unencumbered by self-concern. It is the delight of compassion which need ask nothing in return and has no care for the morrow. It is the love which springs spontaneously from one who dares to be tender.
It is true that humans must abandon innocence and break from the womb of nature, and that having done so they will wander for aeons in the realm of created being, subject to death and decay. But all along they are emanations of that intelligence which animates all, that which knows but is not known. To begin to truly love, which is to love without cause and without object, is to begin to overcome that blindness which occludes our perception of the impercievable, that impossible task which only love can accomplish.
jps | August 2002
Human beings generally suffer from an occlusion of perception which obstructs their view of the nature of things. Some people are aware of this - and to be aware of this is the first step in undertaking sadhana, spiritual discipline leading to an unimpeded view, to seeing how things really are.
Most are not aware of it, and so continue to suffer for reasons that in their heart of hearts they know but have chosen to forget.
Then there are those whose view is not occluded. There are the liberated beings how have outgrown and matured beyond what we accept and regard as 'the human condition'. They are the awakened ones, very few in number. All the great spiritual traditions spring from and honour those whose view is not occluded.
When spiritual teachers say that the true nature of being is obscured by craving and ignorance, it is to this occlusion they refer. And the true nature of which they speak is not some cumbersome philosophical concept understood only by academics and scholars. It is the very joy of being alive, the first flush of spring, the bliss of being which is known to kittens and children and those unencumbered by self-concern. It is the delight of compassion which need ask nothing in return and has no care for the morrow. It is the love which springs spontaneously from one who dares to be tender.
It is true that humans must abandon innocence and break from the womb of nature, and that having done so they will wander for aeons in the realm of created being, subject to death and decay. But all along they are emanations of that intelligence which animates all, that which knows but is not known. To begin to truly love, which is to love without cause and without object, is to begin to overcome that blindness which occludes our perception of the impercievable, that impossible task which only love can accomplish.
jps | August 2002
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Einstein Also Said
"The very fact that the totality of our sense experience is such that by means of thinking it can be put in order - this fact is one which leaves us in awe, but which we shall never understand."
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Religion is....
...the vision of something which stands beyond, behind and within the passing flux of immediate things; something which is real, and yet waiting to be realised; something which is a remote possibility and yet the greatest of present facts; something that gives meaning to all that passes and yet eludes apprehension; something whose possession is the final good and yet is beyond all reach; something which is the ultimate ideal, and the hopeless quest.
James le Fanu
Friday, July 20, 2012
Reality is not what you see out the window
Reality is not what you see out the window. Reality is you looking out the window. What is the difference? Well, 'you looking out the window' includes the observer. And it is obvious that, in fact, reality does 'include the observer'. Insofar as science wants to understand reality as if there is no observer present - 'the view from nowhere' - then what it actually sees is only a slice or an aspect of the totality.
The totality, the whole picture, always must include the observer; and to pretend that it doesn't is a kind of conceit, and maybe even a kind of deceit.
It has occurred to me that 'scientific materialism' is actually a degenerate form of Christianity. From Christianity it has inherited the idea of 'truth', however now materialism understands this as 'scientific truth'. The problem with this is that there really isn't such a thing as 'scientific truth'. There are scientific hypotheses, which are, by their nature, limited and falsifiable. There are enormous amounts of data, far more than any individual can ever hope to know. But the idea of 'Truth with a capital T' is very much inherited from Christian Platonism. It is the remnants of the idea of a realm of truth, a place or a state of mind, where 'all is revealed'. (Think 'the allegory of the Cave'. Perhaps this really was the vision at the beginning of the scientific enterprise.)
Now what it has come to mean is that there only certain kinds of things which we will consider to be real, namely, 'the kinds of things which the natural sciences are able to investigate'. Basically these are things which are amenable to quantification and explanation in third-person terms and are potentially explicable in terms of the laws of physics. Anything whatever which is deemed to 'contradict the laws of physics', is anathematized with all of the passion with which the doctors of the Church used to condemn heresy. An example was John Maddox' (Then editor of Nature) outraged reaction to Rupert Sheldrake's A New Science of Life:
That is why the so-called 'sceptics' (so-called, because many are actually ideologues rather than actual sceptics) are so vehement in their condemnation of anything they deem metaphysical. Theirs is basically a quasi-religious stance, created around the religion of scientism, which, as I say, has descended from the ruins of Christian idealism. This understands the nature of reality solely in terms of material processes; life as the outcome of chance, in a multiverse which is inherently meaningless and chaotic, to put it in a nutshell.
They conceive of 'the laws of physics' as somehow prohibiting or outlawing anything they regard as psychic or 'spiritual'. In fact, many will also dispute any kind of order whatever, and any notion that the intellect is anything more than the material brain. In this respect, 'scientific laws' now occupy a very similar place to 'God's laws' in medieval society - from which, it must be recalled, modern society has descended. They are, to all intents, proscriptive, rather than simply descriptive, in stipulating what kinds of things ought to be considered.
But if you even have a little imagination, the discoveries of 20th century science did nothing to undermine a kind of pan-religious view of the Universe. The very notion of the 'Big Bang', which seems to say that the universe exploded into existence in the literal blink of an eye, from an infinitesimally small point to the vast expanses of space we see today, is very easy to accommodate within the overall notion of creation ex-nihilo. There is an idea floating around that the universe expands and contracts through endless cycles of Big Bangs, which dovetails very nicely with the 'myth of the eternal return'. In the (disputed) Copenhagen Interpretation of quantum physics, matter is dissolved into 'probability waves' which are intelligible rather than material. Physics is alive with ideas of multiple dimensions and unseen matter. Now matter itself is ultimately mysterious, something understood in terms of waves and potentialities instead of absolute point-particles. There is plenty of space with all of this for a spiritual view of life - arguably more so than there was 100 years ago.
The totality, the whole picture, always must include the observer; and to pretend that it doesn't is a kind of conceit, and maybe even a kind of deceit.
It has occurred to me that 'scientific materialism' is actually a degenerate form of Christianity. From Christianity it has inherited the idea of 'truth', however now materialism understands this as 'scientific truth'. The problem with this is that there really isn't such a thing as 'scientific truth'. There are scientific hypotheses, which are, by their nature, limited and falsifiable. There are enormous amounts of data, far more than any individual can ever hope to know. But the idea of 'Truth with a capital T' is very much inherited from Christian Platonism. It is the remnants of the idea of a realm of truth, a place or a state of mind, where 'all is revealed'. (Think 'the allegory of the Cave'. Perhaps this really was the vision at the beginning of the scientific enterprise.)
Now what it has come to mean is that there only certain kinds of things which we will consider to be real, namely, 'the kinds of things which the natural sciences are able to investigate'. Basically these are things which are amenable to quantification and explanation in third-person terms and are potentially explicable in terms of the laws of physics. Anything whatever which is deemed to 'contradict the laws of physics', is anathematized with all of the passion with which the doctors of the Church used to condemn heresy. An example was John Maddox' (Then editor of Nature) outraged reaction to Rupert Sheldrake's A New Science of Life:
"I was so offended by it, that I said that while it's wrong that books should be burned, in practice, if book burning were allowed, this book would be a candidate (...) I think it's dangerous that people should be allowed by our liberal societies to put that kind of nonsense into currency. It's unnecessary to introduce magic into the explanation from physical and biological phenomenon when in fact there is every likelihood that the continuation of research as it is now practiced will indeed fill all the gaps that Sheldrake draws attention to. You see, Sheldrake's is not a scientific theory. Sheldrake is putting forward magic instead of science, and that can be condemned, in exactly the language that the popes used to condemn Galileo, and for the same reasons: it is heresy".
That is why the so-called 'sceptics' (so-called, because many are actually ideologues rather than actual sceptics) are so vehement in their condemnation of anything they deem metaphysical. Theirs is basically a quasi-religious stance, created around the religion of scientism, which, as I say, has descended from the ruins of Christian idealism. This understands the nature of reality solely in terms of material processes; life as the outcome of chance, in a multiverse which is inherently meaningless and chaotic, to put it in a nutshell.
They conceive of 'the laws of physics' as somehow prohibiting or outlawing anything they regard as psychic or 'spiritual'. In fact, many will also dispute any kind of order whatever, and any notion that the intellect is anything more than the material brain. In this respect, 'scientific laws' now occupy a very similar place to 'God's laws' in medieval society - from which, it must be recalled, modern society has descended. They are, to all intents, proscriptive, rather than simply descriptive, in stipulating what kinds of things ought to be considered.
But if you even have a little imagination, the discoveries of 20th century science did nothing to undermine a kind of pan-religious view of the Universe. The very notion of the 'Big Bang', which seems to say that the universe exploded into existence in the literal blink of an eye, from an infinitesimally small point to the vast expanses of space we see today, is very easy to accommodate within the overall notion of creation ex-nihilo. There is an idea floating around that the universe expands and contracts through endless cycles of Big Bangs, which dovetails very nicely with the 'myth of the eternal return'. In the (disputed) Copenhagen Interpretation of quantum physics, matter is dissolved into 'probability waves' which are intelligible rather than material. Physics is alive with ideas of multiple dimensions and unseen matter. Now matter itself is ultimately mysterious, something understood in terms of waves and potentialities instead of absolute point-particles. There is plenty of space with all of this for a spiritual view of life - arguably more so than there was 100 years ago.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Experience and realisation
Reality is realised. Existence is experienced.
Perhaps one way of understanding this distinction is to say that 'what is real' and 'what exists' are different, and this relates to the difference between 'realisation' and 'experience' and between the noumenal and phenomenal. Reality is much greater than what just exists, because it includes possibilities, meaning, and more.
There are those who object to the idea of 'noumenon' because it seems to imply some 'world behind the world', a real world as opposed to an illusory one that we normally inhabit. Perhaps not. Perhaps 'what is', consists not just of 'things which exist' but, more importantly, the relations between those things, which is, of course, changing in every instant, because everything is in motion. So 'what is', which is 'the noumenal', is actually always fleeting, because it is changing at every moment, while 'what exists', which are those things that we actually can know, measure, and talk about, are of a lesser degree of reality than 'the totality'.
In this understanding, 'what exists' is indeed what can be measured, ascertained, photographed, captured, and so on. So it really does exist. But 'existence' itself is simply a momentary aspect of the totality - and the totality is what is real. I think this is why the sages see things as they do - they are alive to the totality, which is why they say that 'all is one'.
Another way of considering this. Reality is the totality of your experience at this very moment. It includes everything you can see, know, think about, and of course an indefinite or infinite amount more which branches out into the vastness of space around you and also down into the depths of your own unconscious processes. The nature of 'awakening' is to be completely awake and alive to the immensity of this current moment of reality.
In practice, this state always being occluded by the conditioned outlook, the constant interplay of memory-and-expectation, desire-and-aversion, and the many other states, both conscious and subliminal, that constantly arise and pass away from one moment to the next. This is what dictates our actual experience of life moment to moment, or what you call 'yourself' or 'your life'.
Now the point about a 'purified consciousness' is that it is intensely alive to each moment and to the sense of immensity which this brings. There is a sense in which one's own aliveness and the aliveness of all that lives intermingle in this awareness. But of course we cannot appreciate this immensity precisely because of the burden of self-hood, of the weight of who we are and what we own.
Existence, on the other hand, is your life considered longitudinally, that is, through time. It relies on time to introduce the sense of continuity, which established a series of moments, which comprise your conscious existence through time. It describes all that you know, measure, think about. 'You' are that process which exists through time, which measures and knows and hopes and so on.If you are able to meet each moment completely, live it with complete attention, without any effort, then it doesn't leave any marks on you. Everything just falls off you like water off a duck's back. But of course I am not like that, I am always thinking, planning, getting, doing, the very thought process is always creating itself according to its previous experience.
So this is the purpose of spiritual discipline: to realise that state of intense aliveness and awareness. With it comes an increased sensitivity to the nature of things which really can't be captured by thought, no matter how subtle, clever or refined. Because thought itself is of the nature of time.
Now I make no claims to be in this state or to know this state. However I do, now, understand that it is something real.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Vision and Routine
by Bikkhu Bodhi
"All human activity can be viewed as an interplay between two contrary but equally essential factors — vision and repetitive routine. Vision is the creative element in activity, whose presence ensures that over and above the settled conditions pressing down upon us from the past we still enjoy a margin of openness to the future, a freedom to discern more meaningful ends and to discover more efficient ways to achieve them. Repetitive routine, in contrast, provides the conservative element in activity. It is the principle that accounts for the persistence of the past in the present, and that enables the successful achievements of the present to be preserved intact and faithfully transmitted to the future.
Though pulling in opposite directions — the one toward change, the other toward stability — vision and routine intermesh in a variety of ways and every course of action can be found to participate to some extent in both. For any particular action to be both meaningful and effective the attainment of a healthy balance between the two is necessary. When one factor prevails at the expense of the other, the consequences are invariably undesirable. If we are bound to a repetitive cycle of work that deprives us of our freedom to inquire and understand, we soon bog down, crippled by the chains of routine. If we are spurred to act by elevating ideals but lack the discipline to implement them, eventually we find ourselves wallowing in dreams or exhausting our energies on frivolous pursuits. It is only when accustomed routines are infused from within by vision that they become springboards to discovery rather than deadening ruts. And it is only when inspired vision gives birth to a course of repeatable actions that we can bring our ideals down from the ethereal sphere of imagination to the somber realm of fact. It took a flash of genius for Michelangelo to behold the figure of David invisible in a shapeless block of stone; but it required years of prior training, and countless blows with hammer and chisel, to work the miracle that would leave us a masterpiece of art.
These reflections concerning the relationship between vision and routine apply with equal validity to the practice of the Buddhist path. Like all other human activities, the treading of the way to the cessation of suffering requires that the intelligent grasp of new disclosures of truth be fused with the patient and stabilizing discipline of repetition. The factor of vision enters the path under the heading of right view — as the understanding of the undistorted truths concerning our existence and as the continued penetration of those same truths through deepening contemplation and reflection. The factor of repetition enters the path as the onerous task imposed by the practice itself: the need to undertake specific modes of training and to cultivate them diligently in the prescribed sequence until they yield their fruit. The course of spiritual growth along the Buddhist path might in fact be conceived as an alternating succession of stages in which, during one phase, the element of vision is dominant, during the next the element of routine. It is a flash of vision that opens our inner eye to the essential meaning of the Dhamma, gradual training that makes our insight secure, and again the urge for still more vision that propels the practice forward to its culmination in final knowledge.
Though the emphasis may alternate from phase to phase, ultimate success in the development of the path always hinges upon balancing vision with routine in such a way that each can make its maximal contribution. However, because our minds are keyed to fix upon the new and distinctive, in our practice we are prone to place a one-sided emphasis on vision at the expense of repetitive routine. Thus we are elated by expectations concerning the stages of the path far beyond our reach, while at the same time we tend to neglect the lower stages — dull and drab, but far more urgent and immediate — lying just beneath our feet. To adopt this attitude, however, is to forget the crucial fact that vision always operates upon a groundwork of previously established routine and must in turn give rise to new patterns of routine adequate to the attainment of its intended aim. Thus if we are to close the gap between ideal and actuality — between the envisaged aim of striving and the lived experience of our everyday lives — it is necessary for us to pay greater heed to the task of repetition. Every wholesome thought, every pure intention, every effort to train the mind represents a potential for growth along the Noble Eightfold Path. But to be converted from a mere potential into an active power leading to the end of suffering, the fleeting wholesome thought-formations must be repeated, fostered and cultivated, made into enduring qualities of our being. Feeble in their individuality, when their forces are consolidated by repetition they acquire a strength that is invincible.
The key to development along the Buddhist path is repetitive routine guided by inspirational vision. It is the insight into final freedom — the peace and purity of a liberated mind — that uplifts us and impels us to overcome our limits. But it is by repetition — the methodical cultivation of wholesome practices — that we cover the distance separating us from the goal and draw ever closer to deliverance."
"All human activity can be viewed as an interplay between two contrary but equally essential factors — vision and repetitive routine. Vision is the creative element in activity, whose presence ensures that over and above the settled conditions pressing down upon us from the past we still enjoy a margin of openness to the future, a freedom to discern more meaningful ends and to discover more efficient ways to achieve them. Repetitive routine, in contrast, provides the conservative element in activity. It is the principle that accounts for the persistence of the past in the present, and that enables the successful achievements of the present to be preserved intact and faithfully transmitted to the future.
Though pulling in opposite directions — the one toward change, the other toward stability — vision and routine intermesh in a variety of ways and every course of action can be found to participate to some extent in both. For any particular action to be both meaningful and effective the attainment of a healthy balance between the two is necessary. When one factor prevails at the expense of the other, the consequences are invariably undesirable. If we are bound to a repetitive cycle of work that deprives us of our freedom to inquire and understand, we soon bog down, crippled by the chains of routine. If we are spurred to act by elevating ideals but lack the discipline to implement them, eventually we find ourselves wallowing in dreams or exhausting our energies on frivolous pursuits. It is only when accustomed routines are infused from within by vision that they become springboards to discovery rather than deadening ruts. And it is only when inspired vision gives birth to a course of repeatable actions that we can bring our ideals down from the ethereal sphere of imagination to the somber realm of fact. It took a flash of genius for Michelangelo to behold the figure of David invisible in a shapeless block of stone; but it required years of prior training, and countless blows with hammer and chisel, to work the miracle that would leave us a masterpiece of art.
These reflections concerning the relationship between vision and routine apply with equal validity to the practice of the Buddhist path. Like all other human activities, the treading of the way to the cessation of suffering requires that the intelligent grasp of new disclosures of truth be fused with the patient and stabilizing discipline of repetition. The factor of vision enters the path under the heading of right view — as the understanding of the undistorted truths concerning our existence and as the continued penetration of those same truths through deepening contemplation and reflection. The factor of repetition enters the path as the onerous task imposed by the practice itself: the need to undertake specific modes of training and to cultivate them diligently in the prescribed sequence until they yield their fruit. The course of spiritual growth along the Buddhist path might in fact be conceived as an alternating succession of stages in which, during one phase, the element of vision is dominant, during the next the element of routine. It is a flash of vision that opens our inner eye to the essential meaning of the Dhamma, gradual training that makes our insight secure, and again the urge for still more vision that propels the practice forward to its culmination in final knowledge.
Though the emphasis may alternate from phase to phase, ultimate success in the development of the path always hinges upon balancing vision with routine in such a way that each can make its maximal contribution. However, because our minds are keyed to fix upon the new and distinctive, in our practice we are prone to place a one-sided emphasis on vision at the expense of repetitive routine. Thus we are elated by expectations concerning the stages of the path far beyond our reach, while at the same time we tend to neglect the lower stages — dull and drab, but far more urgent and immediate — lying just beneath our feet. To adopt this attitude, however, is to forget the crucial fact that vision always operates upon a groundwork of previously established routine and must in turn give rise to new patterns of routine adequate to the attainment of its intended aim. Thus if we are to close the gap between ideal and actuality — between the envisaged aim of striving and the lived experience of our everyday lives — it is necessary for us to pay greater heed to the task of repetition. Every wholesome thought, every pure intention, every effort to train the mind represents a potential for growth along the Noble Eightfold Path. But to be converted from a mere potential into an active power leading to the end of suffering, the fleeting wholesome thought-formations must be repeated, fostered and cultivated, made into enduring qualities of our being. Feeble in their individuality, when their forces are consolidated by repetition they acquire a strength that is invincible.
The key to development along the Buddhist path is repetitive routine guided by inspirational vision. It is the insight into final freedom — the peace and purity of a liberated mind — that uplifts us and impels us to overcome our limits. But it is by repetition — the methodical cultivation of wholesome practices — that we cover the distance separating us from the goal and draw ever closer to deliverance."
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Matter, Spirit, Logos - a Sketch
Evolutionary materialism, which is the mainstream view of much of the modern world, posits that living things arise as a consequence of the spontaneous reaction of certain kinds of molecular substances, which, when combined under particular circumstances, will give rise to primitive life forms, after which Darwinian principles 'kick in' and life begins to evolve (although the details are still regarded as very unclear and even contentious.)
I have never accepted the materialist account. I don't believe that matter itself, on the molecular or atomic level, acts. It doesn't do anything - at least, not anything which can't be described by the laws of physics and chemistry. And I don't believe the laws of physics and chemistry describe the nature of living beings, nor provide any philosophical basis for the very high degree of order which even the simplest of life forms exhibit, let alone life forms such as humans. In other words, I don't believe that the level of complexity which is exemplified by living things arises solely as a consequence of forces that can be understood at the level of chemistry and physics. Something else is at work in all of this, or at least, there has to be an explanation that works at a different level. So I have never felt that the materialist account comes to terms with the categorical difference between living and non-living things; in my experience, materialists are obliged to deny this difference, a denial which seems completely implausible to me.
The obvious question that this raises is, what is the nature of this 'force' which causes things to manifest? Am I positing 'spirit', as opposed to, and in distinction from, 'matter', in the sense that a dualist would?
One difficulty presented by this arises from the fact that the act of thought itself can only proceed either in relation to objects or things, or by the logical operations of mathematics and reasoning. In other words, if you think of 'spirit', then you will generally think of it as something, some fine material essence or substance - something which is distributed everywhere, but which we can't see. I am sure this is the very kind of notion of spirit - as a 'geist' or 'ghost' - that has been rejected by modern naturalism. This is similar to the notion of the 'ghost in the machine', which was used as an argument against Cartesian dualism. ('We know what kind of 'stuff' matter is, because we can see it all around us. But what kind of 'stuff' is 'spirit' - other than what comes out of a bottle? Obviously there's no such thing, you're making it up!' Although we must recall that Descartes insisted that 'res cogitans' was 'not extended' - in other words, does not occupy space.)
I don't believe there is any such thing as spirit, either. But in saying this, I am not denying the reality of The Spirit. I am denying this way of thinking about it. I think that what has been described as 'The Spirit' can be thought of as 'the universal potentiality for things to come into being' (among other meanings). In other words, the nature of the universe is such that, given the appropriate combinations of circumstances, it will spontaneously give rise to living beings 1. However, this does not mean that matter itself 'acts' or causes anything to be. Nor does it mean that 'Spirit' is any kind of essence distributed throughout the Universe. It is more that there is an inherent tendency towards the evolution of conscious beings latent within the substance of the world. It is described as inherent, implicit, or unmanifest, but were it not real, nothing would come to be. It precedes existence, and while it does not in itself exist, in the manner that material things exist, it is that which causes anything to exist. (In this view, evolution is a result, not a cause - specifically, the result of this inherent tendency for conscious life to evolve.)
This could be seen as being suggested by the idea of the 'anthropic principle' which observes that the causes and conditions which give rise to living beings are attributes of the very nature of the universe itself, and had they been slightly different, no life forms would be able to exist. So these very attributes and characteristics characterise the nature of the Universe, which is such that, given the correct circumstances, living beings will evolve within it. In this understanding, the Universe has just those properties and attributes which will inevitably give rise to conscious living beings. (See also 'Just Six Numbers' which discusses universal mathematical constants that underpin nature.)
As a consequence of these regularities, the Universe is lawful. Nature exhibits regularities which we are able to describe and summarize as formulae or scientific laws. Such regularities reflect the very deep structure of nature itself, as expressed in the classic essay, The Unreasonable Effectiveness of Mathematics in the Natural Sciences by Eugene Wigner. And surely the intuition of the deep relationship between mathematically expressible laws and the fabric of the cosmos is an attribute of the Pythagorean philosophy, without which neither Western philosophy nor mathematical physics could have developed.
Furthermore, this internal logic, as logos, is the reason why anything works. It is the basis of ratio, of harmony, of proportion and even of reason itself (because A, then B). But this can never been seen directly, only in the way it manifests, again, because it is implicit or given, rather than explicit or consequential. But as empiricism only considers the 'manifest realm', trying to explain the basis of reason on the basis of what appears in the manifest realm is like looking into the electronic circuitry of a television to locate the characters in the television show.
They are not there.
So my feeling is that the latent intelligence of the world is not the attribute or characteristic of any kind of fine material substance, stuff, or thing, conceived in the way that modern natural science would conceive it. If we have to conceive of it at all, it is much more like the inherent tendency of certain types of things to form, or to form along certain lines, which is an expression of the inherent logic, or logos, of the nature of reality itself.
And, of course, we ourselves are an expression of that, even a particular outcome of it; in fact, as 'the rational animal', we are uniquely able to appreciate this fact, in our realm of existence. Of course, this view is rather Hegelian, but Hegel himself was an inheritor of the Pythagorean tradition. (Also perhaps similar in meaning to Simon Conway Morris' 'Life's Solution'.)
This piece will be revised constantly.
1. Perhaps this is a way into conceptualizing dharmakaya!
I have never accepted the materialist account. I don't believe that matter itself, on the molecular or atomic level, acts. It doesn't do anything - at least, not anything which can't be described by the laws of physics and chemistry. And I don't believe the laws of physics and chemistry describe the nature of living beings, nor provide any philosophical basis for the very high degree of order which even the simplest of life forms exhibit, let alone life forms such as humans. In other words, I don't believe that the level of complexity which is exemplified by living things arises solely as a consequence of forces that can be understood at the level of chemistry and physics. Something else is at work in all of this, or at least, there has to be an explanation that works at a different level. So I have never felt that the materialist account comes to terms with the categorical difference between living and non-living things; in my experience, materialists are obliged to deny this difference, a denial which seems completely implausible to me.
The obvious question that this raises is, what is the nature of this 'force' which causes things to manifest? Am I positing 'spirit', as opposed to, and in distinction from, 'matter', in the sense that a dualist would?
One difficulty presented by this arises from the fact that the act of thought itself can only proceed either in relation to objects or things, or by the logical operations of mathematics and reasoning. In other words, if you think of 'spirit', then you will generally think of it as something, some fine material essence or substance - something which is distributed everywhere, but which we can't see. I am sure this is the very kind of notion of spirit - as a 'geist' or 'ghost' - that has been rejected by modern naturalism. This is similar to the notion of the 'ghost in the machine', which was used as an argument against Cartesian dualism. ('We know what kind of 'stuff' matter is, because we can see it all around us. But what kind of 'stuff' is 'spirit' - other than what comes out of a bottle? Obviously there's no such thing, you're making it up!' Although we must recall that Descartes insisted that 'res cogitans' was 'not extended' - in other words, does not occupy space.)
I don't believe there is any such thing as spirit, either. But in saying this, I am not denying the reality of The Spirit. I am denying this way of thinking about it. I think that what has been described as 'The Spirit' can be thought of as 'the universal potentiality for things to come into being' (among other meanings). In other words, the nature of the universe is such that, given the appropriate combinations of circumstances, it will spontaneously give rise to living beings 1. However, this does not mean that matter itself 'acts' or causes anything to be. Nor does it mean that 'Spirit' is any kind of essence distributed throughout the Universe. It is more that there is an inherent tendency towards the evolution of conscious beings latent within the substance of the world. It is described as inherent, implicit, or unmanifest, but were it not real, nothing would come to be. It precedes existence, and while it does not in itself exist, in the manner that material things exist, it is that which causes anything to exist. (In this view, evolution is a result, not a cause - specifically, the result of this inherent tendency for conscious life to evolve.)
This could be seen as being suggested by the idea of the 'anthropic principle' which observes that the causes and conditions which give rise to living beings are attributes of the very nature of the universe itself, and had they been slightly different, no life forms would be able to exist. So these very attributes and characteristics characterise the nature of the Universe, which is such that, given the correct circumstances, living beings will evolve within it. In this understanding, the Universe has just those properties and attributes which will inevitably give rise to conscious living beings. (See also 'Just Six Numbers' which discusses universal mathematical constants that underpin nature.)
As a consequence of these regularities, the Universe is lawful. Nature exhibits regularities which we are able to describe and summarize as formulae or scientific laws. Such regularities reflect the very deep structure of nature itself, as expressed in the classic essay, The Unreasonable Effectiveness of Mathematics in the Natural Sciences by Eugene Wigner. And surely the intuition of the deep relationship between mathematically expressible laws and the fabric of the cosmos is an attribute of the Pythagorean philosophy, without which neither Western philosophy nor mathematical physics could have developed.
Furthermore, this internal logic, as logos, is the reason why anything works. It is the basis of ratio, of harmony, of proportion and even of reason itself (because A, then B). But this can never been seen directly, only in the way it manifests, again, because it is implicit or given, rather than explicit or consequential. But as empiricism only considers the 'manifest realm', trying to explain the basis of reason on the basis of what appears in the manifest realm is like looking into the electronic circuitry of a television to locate the characters in the television show.
They are not there.
So my feeling is that the latent intelligence of the world is not the attribute or characteristic of any kind of fine material substance, stuff, or thing, conceived in the way that modern natural science would conceive it. If we have to conceive of it at all, it is much more like the inherent tendency of certain types of things to form, or to form along certain lines, which is an expression of the inherent logic, or logos, of the nature of reality itself.
And, of course, we ourselves are an expression of that, even a particular outcome of it; in fact, as 'the rational animal', we are uniquely able to appreciate this fact, in our realm of existence. Of course, this view is rather Hegelian, but Hegel himself was an inheritor of the Pythagorean tradition. (Also perhaps similar in meaning to Simon Conway Morris' 'Life's Solution'.)
This piece will be revised constantly.
1. Perhaps this is a way into conceptualizing dharmakaya!
Monday, February 27, 2012
Being is Not an Object
I have been casting about for some way of understanding 'being'. I am considering the idea that 'being is not an object'. Being is never a 'that', whereas an inanimate object is a 'that', wholly describable in terms of its constituent parts (not that anything ends up being 'wholly describable', but I will leave that for now.)
I will argue that the proper designation for objects, as distinct from beings, is that they exist. This is based on the etymology of the term: 'ex-' outside of, apart from; 'ist' to be. So to 'exist' is to be apart from, to be this thing as opposed to that thing. But existence is not the same as being. Yet there are a few philosophers I have read who distinguish the verbs 'to be' and 'to exist', and it is a very important distinction to be able to make. In the absence of this distinction, there is no philosophy possible, only science; because science concerns itself only with what exists, where is philosophy asks questions about what 'being' means.
In this usage, 'existence' pertains to the realm of phenomenal objects and realities. Human beings participate in this realm insofar as they are physical beings; as physical beings, they are in a sense objects, although the fact that we are hesitant to describe people as objects is significant here. But insofar as a being has mass and location and the other properties which material objects have, the being is 'an existing thing'. However what is different about beings are that they are also subjects, as distinct from simply objects.
Now I think that 'being' in this sense is in fact the fundamental basis of reality 1. Of course, the materialist view is that particles (or something) are the fundamental basis of reality, and that more complex things evolve from these simpler things by some means. However, what this account never explains is the means by which the self-organizing properties of beings actually do the job of seeking homeostasis, growing, evolving and breeding. In other words, what makes living beings alive? What quality or attribute do living beings have, that material objects don't? Nowadays you're not even allowed to ask the question - the question itself is banned.
I am tempted to say that evolution itself is all the process of being realizing its potentiality for existence. In lower beings, such as simple organisms and plants, being is barely conscious compared to human beings and the higher animals. Nevertheless it is the same element or essence, but in a lower degree of development, but in this sense, sentient creatures are 'beings', rather than objects or things. They have, to put it very awkwardly, being-ness, rather than simply existence. In other words, they have some interior nature, some basic and elemental sense of 'I am', even if, as I say, it is extremely rudimentary.
Now this leads back to the whole idea of 'degrees of being' and 'the hierarchy of being'. From Ken Wilber, we have this simplified diagram:
This schema reflects the idea of an hierarchical ontology (or great chain of being) wherein different kinds of being exist in different ways, or modes. The 'being' of an inanimate object such as a mineral element is of a different kind to the 'being' of an intelligent creature such as ourselves: it is, as I say 'mere existence' rather than 'being as such'. And it is not as if our being is 'composed' of those other, lesser types of object, of things which merely exist. No combination of mere objects could give rise to a higher level of order than they themselves possess. They only act as they are directed to act by some process, which is, in our case, the tendency for living systems to form and evolve. But I think this is much easier to understand as the manifestation of an implicit reality, than the chance outcome of Bertrand Russell's 'accidental collocations of atoms' (a 'theory' which can hardly be graced with that name!')
1. I was surprised to discover that many of those who understand this distinction are actually theologians rather than philosophers. See for example, this chapter in John MacQuarrie's Principles of Christian Theology, an extremely sophisticated book which is informed throughout by a reading of Heidegger's Being and Time albeit from a theistic perspective.
2. See column 'God does not exist', at right.
I will argue that the proper designation for objects, as distinct from beings, is that they exist. This is based on the etymology of the term: 'ex-' outside of, apart from; 'ist' to be. So to 'exist' is to be apart from, to be this thing as opposed to that thing. But existence is not the same as being. Yet there are a few philosophers I have read who distinguish the verbs 'to be' and 'to exist', and it is a very important distinction to be able to make. In the absence of this distinction, there is no philosophy possible, only science; because science concerns itself only with what exists, where is philosophy asks questions about what 'being' means.
In this usage, 'existence' pertains to the realm of phenomenal objects and realities. Human beings participate in this realm insofar as they are physical beings; as physical beings, they are in a sense objects, although the fact that we are hesitant to describe people as objects is significant here. But insofar as a being has mass and location and the other properties which material objects have, the being is 'an existing thing'. However what is different about beings are that they are also subjects, as distinct from simply objects.
Now I think that 'being' in this sense is in fact the fundamental basis of reality 1. Of course, the materialist view is that particles (or something) are the fundamental basis of reality, and that more complex things evolve from these simpler things by some means. However, what this account never explains is the means by which the self-organizing properties of beings actually do the job of seeking homeostasis, growing, evolving and breeding. In other words, what makes living beings alive? What quality or attribute do living beings have, that material objects don't? Nowadays you're not even allowed to ask the question - the question itself is banned.
I am tempted to say that evolution itself is all the process of being realizing its potentiality for existence. In lower beings, such as simple organisms and plants, being is barely conscious compared to human beings and the higher animals. Nevertheless it is the same element or essence, but in a lower degree of development, but in this sense, sentient creatures are 'beings', rather than objects or things. They have, to put it very awkwardly, being-ness, rather than simply existence. In other words, they have some interior nature, some basic and elemental sense of 'I am', even if, as I say, it is extremely rudimentary.
Now this leads back to the whole idea of 'degrees of being' and 'the hierarchy of being'. From Ken Wilber, we have this simplified diagram:
This schema reflects the idea of an hierarchical ontology (or great chain of being) wherein different kinds of being exist in different ways, or modes. The 'being' of an inanimate object such as a mineral element is of a different kind to the 'being' of an intelligent creature such as ourselves: it is, as I say 'mere existence' rather than 'being as such'. And it is not as if our being is 'composed' of those other, lesser types of object, of things which merely exist. No combination of mere objects could give rise to a higher level of order than they themselves possess. They only act as they are directed to act by some process, which is, in our case, the tendency for living systems to form and evolve. But I think this is much easier to understand as the manifestation of an implicit reality, than the chance outcome of Bertrand Russell's 'accidental collocations of atoms' (a 'theory' which can hardly be graced with that name!')
The cardinal feature of being is that it is 'that which knows' - if you take 'knowledge' in the broadest sense as signifying the ability of a thing to respond, namely, as 'cognition' (c.f. Descartes' 'res cogitans'). Furthermore, a conscious knowing being (such as ourselves) actually 'constructs' the world in which they live - the brain is a 'reality simulator' that relates sensory experience to memory, judgement, expectation, and so on 2. And that process is reality. It is not as if this is one thing, and reality is another. We never get outside that - there is no 'outside' of it. Outside of it is the 'world in itself', which, as Kant rightly said, we will never know.
It is felt by current science that the process by which being emerges is described by evolutionary theory. However, this theory only operates in terms of material causation and actually is philosophically unable to even pass judgement on the nature of being, as such. However it is obvious that in the current worldview, the understanding of being that is proposed here would generally be viewed as religious or teleological or orthogenetic, and rejected on that account. But I won't go into that here.
What I am interested in is the nature of being as such. This is not anything we can see in the phenomenal realm. Of course, philosophy used to understand that, and in recent times, some schools of theology have understood it as well. Next I will look at some examples of this idea.
1. I was surprised to discover that many of those who understand this distinction are actually theologians rather than philosophers. See for example, this chapter in John MacQuarrie's Principles of Christian Theology, an extremely sophisticated book which is informed throughout by a reading of Heidegger's Being and Time albeit from a theistic perspective.
2. See column 'God does not exist', at right.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Coming to a conclusion
Anyone who has taken time to read anything on this blog will know that it is critical of the atheist books of Dawkins and the like. But I am beginning to understand that I really have nothing to worry about.
Am I 'a believer'? I would say 'no'. I have done many hard yards reading, reflecting and debating religious and philosophical ideas, and I consider the types of religious ideas I favour to be rational, although they do also point to something beyond the limits of discursive thought. But - consider this asymmetry in the case of the argument of atheism v religious beliefs. If atheism is correct, ultimately it means nothing - because nothing means anything. If atheist beliefs are correct, and humans are the accidental by-product of a purely physical phenomenon, then, at death, it is all over, and our life has counted for whatever those around us, and those who remember us, have said it does. The memory will go on, for as long as the memory lasts in the minds of other people, but ultimately it will count for nothing. And that is all.
I have a perfect statement of this from one of the diehard atheists I debated on the Philosophy Forum:
If, on the other hand, human life is sacred, and the human spirit is an expression of the spirit of the Universe, then such an idea provides a framework within which the narratives of religion are indeed meaningful. And, finally, it means that the idea of eternal life has meaning - there is a way to understand the meaning of this idea, which science itself can never offer, as distinct from the idea of 'eternal death' above.
I have a perfect statement of this from one of the diehard atheists I debated on the Philosophy Forum:
'life' is a specific emergent level of molecular-structured thermodynamic complexity that "happened" insofar as -- "because" -- there weren't conditions which prevented it. Same reason snowflakes "happen". In other words, the universe consists in entropy-driven transformations wherein complex phenomena like (terrestrial) "life" arises & goes extinct along a segment of the slope down from minimal entropy (order) to maximal entropy (disorder); the universe is always-already "dead" but becomes a little less-so ever-so-momentarily at different stages of its (cosmic) decomposition.'Always already dead'. How could you live with that idea hanging over your head your whole life?
If, on the other hand, human life is sacred, and the human spirit is an expression of the spirit of the Universe, then such an idea provides a framework within which the narratives of religion are indeed meaningful. And, finally, it means that the idea of eternal life has meaning - there is a way to understand the meaning of this idea, which science itself can never offer, as distinct from the idea of 'eternal death' above.
So it is a very unequal contest. On the one side, we have those who say that humans are something that scientists can definitively understand, analyze and predict. On the other side, we have those who say that humans are the expression of the intelligence that underlies the whole of creation: an unfathomable mystery, a source of endless creativity and amazement, and completely beyond the fathoming of scientific expertise. The game of life is a matter of coming to realize what amazing beings we actually are - which is a profound, difficult and demanding endeavour, but one worth embarking on, one which gives meaning to everything.
Tell me - which vision do you prefer?
Tell me - which vision do you prefer?
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Hart on 'The New Atheists'
David Bentley Hart is one of the editors of First Things, an inter-religious (i.e. non-denominational), non-partisan 'think tank'.
Some quotes from his essay on New Atheism (linked at right):
Some quotes from his essay on New Atheism (linked at right):
The most venerable metaphysical claims about God do not simply shift priority from one kind of thing (say, a teacup or the universe) to another thing that just happens to be much bigger and come much earlier (some discrete, very large gentleman who preexists teacups and universes alike). These claims start, rather, from the fairly elementary observation that nothing contingent, composite, finite, temporal, complex, and mutable can account for its own existence, and that even an infinite series of such things can never be the source or ground of its own being, but must depend on some source of actuality beyond itself.I see this as philosophically similar to the no-self (anatta) teaching within Buddhism, which forms the basis of the teaching of sunyata or emptiness (no-thing-ness). The Buddhist teaching of emptiness, and the apophatic tradition of Christian mysticism, have much in common, despite the obvious differences in belief and philosophy. This is a theme I intend to explore in more depth this year.
Hart discusses Nietzsche's atheism:
[Nietzsche's ] famous fable in The Gay Science of the madman who announces God’s death is anything but a hymn of atheist triumphalism. In fact, the madman despairs of the mere atheists — those who merely do not believe — to whom he addresses his terrible proclamation. In their moral contentment, their ease of conscience, he sees an essential oafishness; they do not dread the death of God because they do not grasp that humanity’s heroic and insane act of repudiation has sponged away the horizon, torn down the heavens, left us with only the uncertain resources of our will with which to combat the infinity of meaninglessness that the universe now threatens to become.
Because he understood the nature of what had happened when Christianity entered history with the annunciation of the death of God on the cross, and the elevation of a Jewish peasant above all gods, Nietzsche understood also that the passing of Christian faith permits no return to pagan naivete, and he knew that this monstrous inversion of values created within us a conscience that the older order could never have incubated. He understood also that the death of God beyond us is the death of the human as such within us. If we are, after all, nothing but the fortuitous effects of physical causes, then the will is bound to no rational measure but itself, and who can imagine what sort of world will spring up from so unprecedented and so vertiginously uncertain a vision of reality?
I feel that the Western tradition misinterprets the meaning of 'the incarnation', insofar as Jesus Christ is depicted as the only instance in history, around which everything rotates. But what was it Jesus said in the [Gnostic] Gospel of Thomas? "Pick up a rock, split a piece of wood, you will find Me there?" "If your leaders say to you, 'Look, the kingdom is in the sky,' then the birds of the sky will precede you. If they say to you, 'It is in the sea,' then the fish will precede you. Rather, the (Father's) kingdom is within you and it is outside you." Within you and without you. Jesus Christ is the 'only', not in the sense of being the only instance, but the exemplar of the only truth as 'the true nature of being', or 'the truth about life' or even 'the truth, light and way'. And if you seek the truth as a Christian, then he is the One and Only, in a similar way that your wife is your One and Only - but it does not mean that Christians have a monopoly on the truth, or that your wife is the only woman in the world, to persons other than yourself. (My view is similar to that of philosopher of religion John Hick).
In the same essay, I noticed this quote from Nietzsche: "Once the Buddha was dead, people displayed his shadow for centuries afterwards in a cave, an immense and dreadful shadow." This is not correct. There was a 'myth of the Buddha's shadow' as there were 'myths of the Buddha's footprint' embedded in the rocks of the ancient world. But the shadow was not 'immense and dreadful', simply a marking on a rock, around which the legend grew up that it had remained there as a supernatural reminder of the Buddha visiting that place [and where his garment had been laid out to dry on a rock, if my memory serves]. The ancient world was full of myths of this kind. And although Nietzsche professed to respect Buddhism to some degree, his ideas about it, like those of his contemporaries, were ill- informed. This is described in Roger Pol-Droit's The Cult of Nothingness: Philosophers and the Buddha.
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