Archive for the 'books' Category

Talk about balancing between the opposites!

via The Rev’s Rumbles I found the Germatriculator which rates my blog as balanced exactly, yet precariously, between the two extremes (at least as of right now). I’ve achieved my goal of holding the tension of the opposites!! The universe now has an incrementally greater amount of consciousness. My work here is done (but I’ll still probably continue blogging anyway).

This site is certified 50% EVIL by the Gematriculator This site is certified 50% GOOD by the Gematriculator

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Faith, consciousness, and quantum physics

If consciousness is created by embracing the tension of the opposites — paradox — and faith is also the tension of the opposites, what is the connection with the superposition of states in quantum physics? Take the most common example of the electron existing as a particle and a wave. These two states seem mutually exclusive, paradoxical, yet the electron exists as both/and in a superposition. It is only with observation that the electron collapses to one of the two states — that is, “becomes” either a particle or a wave. Faith and creating consciousness can be described as the superposition state where multiple possibilities exist; attachment and identification is then the collapsed state where only one possibility exists.

Perhaps the “real” world is the world of superposition and the “concrete” world is the world of collapsed states as we experience it with our senses. Perhaps the goal is to not be attached to the single, collapsed state but embrace the paradox of the superposition. I’ll have to ponder this more but I think there is something there.

Have you thought about this? Can you help me find what I think is out there waiting to be found?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueler? Bueler?

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Consciousness IS the goal

Some day I’ll get back to my series on Edinger’s The Creation of Consciousness, but until then I’ll just leave you with this thought:

Ram Dass agrees with Jung and Edinger that the creation of consciousness is our goal (or should be, at least). From The Only Dance There Is:

Consciousness does not mean attachment to polarity, at any level. It means freedom from attachment. And once you see that the highest mother is the most conscious mother, the highest student, the highest therapist, the highest lover, the highest anything is the most conscious one, you begin to see that the way you serve another human being is by freeing him from the particular attachment he’s stuck in that turn him off to life.

Non-attachment to polarity is Jung’s “tension of the opposites.” Dealing with polarity, paradox, incongruency and not flip-flopping from one side to the other is the process of creating consciousness. “Freedom from attachment” is the middle way that leads to conscious living and an increase in the sum total of consciousness in the universe.

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The meaning of ritual

I’m not big on ritual. I like the idea of ritual but my idea has always been based on the ritual meaning something. A bit vague, I realize, but …

Growing up, once a month or so we would “celebrate” the Lord’s Supper, a.k.a. take communion. We would drink our grape juice and eat our cracker niblets while sitting in our pew. (Yes, the good ol’ Protestant version of the Eucharist sans kneeling, walking, Latin, &c.) This could have been ritual — should have been a ritual what with the “do this in remembrance of me” and all — but it wasn’t because I was always stuck on the part that came before. I was stuck on the “do not partake unworthily” which, to me, meant “have no unconfessed sin in your life” so I spent the whole time sitting there confessing every sin I could think of. So, this mother (or father) of all rituals was not really a ritual; it was a time to focus on saving my ass from the unpardonable sin (I was a bit naive back then).

We always prayed before most meals but that, too, was a chore to say the “right” words and never “came from the heart.” It was just something we did that embarrassed me when we were out in public. I remember our assistant pastor would do the “long” Sunday morning prayer and mention all the prayer requests: the sick, the missionaries, &c. I would often time his prayers and always giggled to myself when he used the word “unction,” which he did quite frequently. So prayer was never a ritual for me.

Lately, I’ve tried other rituals: journaling in the morning, keeping a paper checkbook, writing my poems and blog posts on paper instead of on the computer. But none of them lasted very long. It was always “easier” to go back to the old habits.

I think my problem has been that I’ve always expected the ritual to mean something and none of these things did. They were meaningless things that I tried to do just for the sake of doing them. But, now I’m starting to think that that’s exactly what a ritual is — a meaningless thing we do just for the hell of it (more or less).

Ram Dass, in The Only Dance There Is, says the ritual, itself, is an offering. The act is an offering. It has nothing to do with my getting something out of it just like an offering is not about receiving but about giving. The ritual is something we give to God. But, he continues, once we realize that I, as the one performing the ritual, and the offering itself and the one to whom the offering is made are all part if “it all,” that it’s like

“[I am] pouring energy into energy for a matter of energy in honoring energy. So big deal, so nothing’s happened. Certainly knocks a hole in orality to start to see the universe that way. What are we doing? Nothing. How could you ever do anything, it’s all here?”

So, I think I need to rethink ritual and try a few new ones on for size — with a new attitude about them.

How about you? What rituals do you regularly do and why?

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Faith V

There is still something, nevertheless, that strikes me as very odd about these statements by Jesus and that is the purely gratuitous nature of the exemplary acts he cites as the result of having faith. Of what conceivable purpose could moving a mountain into the sea be? And what kind of God tempts man with such power when the meek are to inherit the earth? These statements are diametrically opposed to Jesus’ main message of humility and servitude and they make me wonder why he made them at all. Would it not be just as powerful yet more in agreement with Jesus’ teachings and life to give examples of faith like bringing rain during a drought or causing crops to grow in infertile soil?

But, Jesus used the words he used. There is no profit in second guessing his motives; only in understanding him do we gain anything. The simplest way to understand is to take him literally and then qualify his statements to make them comfortable. To this end, some will, as The Ryrie Study Bible does and with what seems to be not a little unease in attributing such power to mere mortals, put limits on the conditions under which Jesus’ statements are valid. Others will take Jesus’ words just as literally but then proceed to point out the obvious absence of literal mountain-moving men and consign Jesus’ statements to the dung heap along with all notions of a faith worth more than a single mustard seed.

Indeed, we have no record of Jesus, his disciples, nor the apostles moving either mountains or trees into the sea and there is no other evidence that he was speaking literally. So what would it mean to take his words metaphorically or symbolically? A mountain and the sea can be viewed as opposites on several different levels. Aside from the physical opposites of solid/liquid and high/low, mountains symbolize constancy, stillness, firmness while the waters of the sea are chaotic, continually in flux. Mountains represent the state of full consciousness, full differentiation, the place of renunciation and highest aspirations; water symbolizes the undifferentiated, our material existence. Casting a mountain into the sea can then be viewed as merging contrary or contradictory viewpoints and no longer seeing them as separate entities; it is to transcend dualistic thinking by not seeing a mountain here and a separate sea over there but both, together. It is to not apprehend either/or but both/and.

But, of what use is the ability to transcend dualism? How does it help me in my everyday life? Lisa Alther, American author and novelist, writes: “I happen to feel that the degree of a person’s intelligence is directly reflected by the number of conflicting attitudes she can bring to bear on the same topic.” This goes right to the heart of the matter. Dualism says, “This is good and that is evil or that is good and this evil.” But when you cast the mountain into the sea, this ceases to be either good or evil and becomes both good and evil. It is seeing both sides of the coin at the same time, it is the middle way, it is embracing paradox. We think of opposites as mutually exclusive. A thing cannot possibly have two opposite characteristics at the same time; it is either right or wrong, good or evil, left or right, black or white. But the world of paradox is not a world of white or black but a world of grayscale.

Holding all sides of an argument in the mind instead of identifying with one to the exclusion of all the others inevitably produces a tension—the tension of the opposites, as Carl Jung phrased it. Edward F. Edinger discusses this tension of the opposites and describes its effect as consciousness-creating:

[I]n the process of creating consciousness we shall at first be thrown back and forth between opposing moods and attitudes. Each time the ego identifies with one side of a pair of opposites the unconscious will confront one with its contrary. Gradually, the individual becomes able to experience opposite viewpoints simultaneously. With this capacity, alchemically speaking, the Philosophers’ Stone is born, i.e., consciousness is created.

This description of the initial stages of dealing with paradox cannot but bring to mind a similar passage in Ephesians 4:13-15:

[U]ntil we all attain to the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to a mature man, to the measure of the stature which belongs to the fulness of Christ. As a result, we are no longer to be children, tossed here and there by waves, and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, by craftiness in deceitful scheming; but speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in all aspects unto Him, who is the head, even Christ …

Paul describes the mature person as one who is not tossed and carried about by ideas and opinions, first clinging to one thing then another to the exclusion of all others. Notice that he places no value judgement on the “waves” and “doctrine” as he does on the latter two; it is not only untrue or false ideas that cause us to keep the mountain and sea separate. The goal of “the unity of the faith” and “grow[ing] up in all aspects” as described by Paul is reiterated by Edinger who describes the mature individual as one “able to experience opposite viewpoints simultaneously.”

[ Parts I, II, III, IV ]

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Faith IV

We now come to some of the most provocative passages dealing with faith: Matthew 17:14-21 in which Jesus casts out a demon his disciples are unable to cast out; Matthew 21:18-22 and Mark 11:12-14, 20-26 in which Jesus curses the fig tree; and Luke 17:5-6 in which the disciples ask for increased faith. In these passages, Jesus describes the sheer power available to those with the smallest amount of faith:

… if you have faith as a mustard seed, you shall say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it shall move; and nothing shall be impossible to you. (Matthew 17:20)

… if you have faith, and do not doubt, you shall not only do what was done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ it shall happen. And all things you ask in prayer, believing,  you shall receive. (Matthew 21:21b,22)

Have faith in God. Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says is going to happen, it shall be granted him. Therefore I say to you, all things for which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they shall be granted you. (Mark 11:22b-24)

If you had faith like a mustard seed, you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and be planted in the sea’; and it would obey you. (Luke 17:6)

One of the most interesting aspects of these accounts is the fact that Jesus does not qualify his statements. In two of the accounts all that is necessary is faith like (or as) a mustard seed. In the other two accounts one only need to believe (or have faith) and not doubt. Now, to many, these statements must necessarily be hyperbolic and most will add de facto constraints on Jesus’ statements. For example, the Ryrie Study Bible includes a footnote for the Matthew 17 passage stating, “The will of God, of course, governs all things, including this promise,” and for the Mark 11 passage: “This principle is qualified by Christ in other teaching (Matt. 6:10) and in His own life (Mark 14:36).” In the latter footnote the first reference is the Lord’s Prayer in which we are to pray for God’s will to be done and the second is Christ’s prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane prior to his crucifixion in which he asks God to “remove this cup” but then defers to God’s will over his own.

But, in fact, Jesus does not qualify his statements to the disciples. If, as Ryrie’s footnote maintains, “the will of God, of course, governs all things,” then we have a few potential problems. The first is, of course, that God is responsible for evil since all things are governed by his will; but that is outside the scope of this article. The second is why tell us to pray that God’s will be done if God’s will governs all things? I shall return to this later. Lastly, Jesus is, to put it mildly, not being very fair. Imagine telling your daughter that she can have whatever she wants to eat but then deny her ice cream, cake, a lollipop, and a chocolate bar because you want her to have Brussels sprouts. If you already have in mind what she is going to eat, why give her the choice? If what happens is subjugated to God’s will then why tell us we can do whatever we want?

One way out of the last dilemma is simply to have your daughter ask for Brussels sprouts when that’s what you want her to have. In other words, have her desires coincide with your desires. It is precisely because there is no qualification that the desires of those having faith align with God’s desires that the desires of those having faith will, by definition, align with God’s desires. What Jesus is really telling us is what it takes to be like God: faith like a mustard seed, belief without doubt. Ram Dass takes this idea even further. In The Only Dance There Is, which is a transcription of two of his lectures, he says:

When Christ says “Had ye but faith, ye could move mountains,” he’s not putting you on. This is not some lovely metaphor saying it’s hard just to lead a good clean life. That isn’t what it’s about at all. He’s just telling you how it is: that were you at a certain level of consciousness you could move a mountain, literally. But the way it happens is very far out. It only happens when you have transcended that in you which is separate from the mountain, so that you are, in fact, the mountain, and then you move. … To the extent that you are the mountain that moves, you are also the being that put the mountain there in the first place. He neglected to say that could you move mountains, you probably wouldn’t because you put it there in the first place. (page 76, 77)

Not only are we like God, we are God. Faith puts us in a state where we realize that we are the one who put the mountain there in the first place. Either way, whether we have the same desires as God or we are God, this is a very powerful statement yet deceptively simple. “Have faith in God” and your desires will be those of God. “If you have faith like a mustard seed” you will realize that you are one with God. What could be more simple? Yet nothing could be harder for us to comprehend or achieve.

[ Parts I, II, III ]

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Favorite sentences from children’s books: IV

A deep calm settled inside him. His heart filled with trust and joy.
Wrapped in the boy’s arms, Dog felt himself grow lighter and lighter.
And he never came back again.

Samsara Dog by Helen Manos, illustrated by Julie Vivas

What’s your favorite sentence(s) from a children’s book?

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Favorite sentences from children’s books: III

Now, what SHOULD we do?
Well . . .
What would YOU do
If your mother asked YOU?

Dr. Seuss, The Cat in the Hat

What’s your favorite sentence from a children’s book?

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Favorite sentences from children’s books: II

On the day you were born
the Earth turned, the Moon pulled,
the Sun flared, and, then, with a push,
you slipped out of the dark quiet
where suddenly you could hear . . .
. . . a circle of people singing
with voices familiar and clear.

and

And as they held you close
they whispered into your open, curving ear,
“We are so glad you’ve come!”

On the Day Your Were Born, Debra Frasier

What’s your favorite sentence from a children’s book?

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I know you think you understand what you heard me say …

… but you don’t realize that what I said is not what I really meant. Language sure is a sneaky little bugger. A quote from Thomas Merton in Zen and the Birds of Appetite:

The language used by Zen is therefore in some sense an antilanguage, and the “logic” of Zen is a radical reversal of philosophical logic. The human dilemma of communication is that we cannot communicate ordinarily without words and signs, but even ordinary experience tends to be falsified by our habits of verbalization and rationalization. The convenient tools of language enable us to decide beforehand what we think things mean, and tempt us all to easily to see things only in a way that fits our logical preconceptions and our verbal formulas. Instead of seeing things and facts as they are we see them as reflections and verifications of the sentences we have previously made up in our minds. We quickly forget how to simply see things and substitute our words and our formulas for the things themselves, manipulating facts so that we see only what conveniently fits our prejudices. Zen uses language against itself to blast out these preconceptions and to destroy the specious “reality” in our minds so that we can see directly. Zen is saying, as Wittgenstein said, “Don’t think: Look!”

In light of this, think about the Bible as the inerrant, inspired, yada, yada, yada, Word of God. Feel free to fill in as many adjectives as you deem appropriate. The transfer from God to the original writers to the words printed in your KJV or NIV or NAS or 21CKJV may be perfect. But the transfer from the words on the page to your mind to what you say is definitely not. Our interpretation of the words is subject to the falsification that Merton discusses. Why do you think so many different people can get so many different interpretations from the same Bible?

As a child, I believed the same things my parents did. I was naturally influenced by the biases and rationalizations of my parents and those who taught me in the church and so I saw things in the world as they did. As I was not exposed to very much influence other than my parents and our church, my logical preconceptions and verbal formulas were the same as my parent’s. Hence, what fit nicely into their way of thinking also fit nicely into mine. Even though I struggled with those beliefs and even though I felt they didn’t “work” for me, I did not have the tools to change my habits and rationalizations and so I could not accept any other belief. I had to get to a point of desperation and throw everything away — telling everyone that I no longer believed anything anymore.

But even though I made this declaration, the beliefs still stuck with me and troubled me. I still had a very difficult time accepting any belief different from those with which I was raised — I still felt they were all “false.” But since I couldn’t go back to my old beliefs, I had no where to turn; I had nothing to believe. Eleven years after my denouncement, I was still trying to find common ground among different beliefs. Not between Islam or Buddhism and Christianity but between the Lutherans or Methodists or Episcopalians and the “real” Christians (i.e. how I was raised)

It took a long time and a large separation between me and my parents and the religion of my youth before I was able to step out of my preconceptions and look at things differently. And, at least for me, that separation was crucial. I needed the physical and emotional space to be there before I could relax my defenses, so to speak, and allow new ideas to seep in without immediately judging them from my old perspective.

One of the easiest ways to get stuck in the rut of “see[ing] things only in a way that fits our logical preconceptions and our verbal formulas” is to limit our exposure to new ideas and differing opinions. As a child, I only listened to preachers who agreed with the pastor of our church and I only read approved books, etc. All else was off limits because it was dangerous to expose ourselves to wrong ideas — at least ideas that we said were wrong because of our preconceptions. I would bet that many, if not most, of determinations of what was appropriate and what was not was made because someone else — someone trusted as a spiritual leader — said so. The books were not read first hand but were simply dismissed because so-and-so said it was evil. And so, we were constantly exposed to in-bred ideas and as a result, our minds atrophied and became inflexible which made it harder for us to entertain differing opinion. A vicious, downward spiral.

One solution is to do what Cliff Martin proposes in the comment thread to a post at OutsideTheBox: “Just as The God Delusion should be required reading for all believers, the McGrath’s wonderful little answer[, The Dawkins Delusion,] should be required reading for all atheists!!”

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