Christianity and the Cult of Forgiveness (III):

Tribal Identity, Political Humiliation and Nietzsche’s Rejection of Christianity

 

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Nietzsche had a unique take on Christianity. He accused it of being the last recourse of “losers.” He claimed it was the concoction of people who could not achieve a sense of self-worth in the harsh world of reality. Despairing of achieving a human existence in life, they generated a pathetic belief in an imaginary world where all their aspirations would be realized after they died.

The flip-side of Nietzsche’s rant was his belief that the human individual’s appropriation of his humanity in the face of all the obstacles against it would result in the emergence of a superior kind of human being: a “superman” who owed his self-worth to no one but himself, loved the earth, rejected any thought of the after-life and necessarily shunned all those who lived by some other standard. Even though Nietzsche himself was opposed to anti-Semitism and the ethnic German nationalism of his day, the Nazis used his thinking to support their vision of Aryan superiority.

Abstracting from the horrific purposes to which others applied his thought, It seems that there might be some historical support to Nietzsche’s claim. Christianity was a development of later Judaism, and Judaism, we have to remember, was a religion that evolved in a most dramatic and intriguing way. It went through an inner transformation that turned it 180o from a religion of tribal superiority into a religion of salvation for the oppressed.

It began as a contract (“covenant”) with a warrior god, Yahweh, who freed the Hebrews from their enslavement to the Egyptians and conquered an extensive territory in Palestine along with the tribes that lived there for their possession. He was a god of armies, more powerful than all other gods.

But it was Israel’s destiny to return to servitude. In 587 bce, Jerusalem and its Temple were destroyed by the Babylonians and the people carted off to work for their conquerors. The evidence was clear. Yahweh was no longer providing military victory. This struck at the very core of national identity for the Jewish people. Either Yahweh was impotent or he was uncaring; both were considered impossible. The fault had to lay with the Jewish people. They were not upholding their side of the contract, hence Yahweh’s abandonment.

The Jews were about to disappear as a nation. When they were “miraculously” allowed to return and rebuild their city and their Temple 50 years later, they took it as a sign of Yahweh’s compassion. But because their exile was surely the result of their failure, this miraculous act on Yahweh’s part had to be in the form of forgiveness. Thus Yahweh evolved from a war god into a God of forgiveness and compassion, ready to help the failures who begged him for help.

This is extraordinary. Suddenly, with the post exilic prophets, strength and power are no longer the instruments of life and prosperity. What draws down divine help is precisely the opposite: neediness, failure, poverty, vulnerability and sin … . For the Jews’ return from Exile there was an added factor: the new Persian conquerors gave the permissions and provided the protections for the return. They had to be acting as the agents of Yahweh’s will. The logic was undebatable: Yahweh wasn’t only the god of the Jews, he ruled all of Mesopotamia as well. Political impotence translated to a new universalist concept of “God.” If “God” is indeed all powerful, he must be guiding those who rule the world. How else could Israel have come back to life?

Of course, the earlier imagery of a god of tribal military triumph still remained. But it was braided into the new vision, became muted and went underground. It took the form of hope: that Yahweh would, at some future time “awake from sleep” and keep his “promises” to Israel of tribal supremacy. This meant that the collaboration with the current empire was a “holy” albeit temporary strategy. It established a paradigm that was in place when Jesus appeared at the start of the common era.

Enter Christianity

Jesus’ life coincided with that point in history when Rome changed from a powerful city-state that grew by making alliances, to a plundering despotic world empire. Rome’s oppressive control, which involved enslavement and heavy tribute extorted from its vassals, awakened the aspirations for national independence among the Jews, and these two “Yahwehs,” the conquering, liberating warrior of the Exodus and the compassionate, forgiving father of the Exile who was grooming the Romans for Israel’s ultimate glory, vied for control of the Jewish imagination. Jesus, some say, following the Essenes, melded the two images by declaring the coming “kingdom,” which many believed to be imminent, to be both Yahweh’s long expected military assertion of Israel’s world domination and the installation of a completely new way of organizing society run by justice and compassion. There would be a final battle ― an Armageddon ― between the forces of good and the forces of evil and after Yahweh’s victory, justice, compassion and forgiveness would rule the relationships among men, not force, greed, lies and larceny.

Others say Jesus opted for the forgiving father and used kingdom terminology only because of its universal currency among the Jews. It’s hard to dismiss the first theory entirely, however, because after his death his followers took up a stance of awaiting Jesus’ return in power which they claimed would usher in Yahweh’s kingdom. The imagery was clearly political; the condemnation of Roman oppression was implicit in this expectation. They called themselves Christians and demanded a transformation of life into the ideals promoted by the compassionate Yahweh in anticipation of the coming kingdom of justice.

As time went by two things happened that radically changed the Christian version of post exilic Yahwism. The first was that Jesus never returned. This was more disrupting than we may realize. For it resulted in the dismissal of Jesus’ radical morality of non-violence and compassion as poetic exaggeration.

The second was that ethnic Jews no longer dominated the Christian community either in numbers or influence. Most new Christians were Greco-Roman converts who had been brought up in the polytheism of the Mediterranean basin and did not see Rome as an alien conquering power or Israel as “God’s” favored nation. Their political acquiescence and the categories of their ancestral religion re-shaped Christianity. These factors conspired to bring Christians to disregard any thought of a revolutionary Jewish “kingdom” installed by a conquering Yahweh, and to transfer any hopes they may have had for a better life to an imagined existence after death. These developments occurred during the three centuries prior to the decision of the Roman Emperor Constantine to make Christianity the official religion of the Empire, and, in fact, made that decision possible.

When that history-changing event occurred in 312, the new “Greco-Roman” Christian world­view got set in stone. Christians, almost universally, interpreted Constantine’s windfall as the establishment of the promised kingdom.  But the kingdom was not Israel, it was Rome, which is apparently what “God” had in mind all along.  For them, the struggle was over. The laws and statutes of Rome were to be accepted as the rules and regulations of the kingdom. The warrior god had come back to life, and both conquest and obedience to law were re-installed as the fundamental dynamics that ruled the kingdom.

This development was explicitly sanctioned earlier by Paul the apostle himself who had referred to the Roman Empire as having been instituted by “God:” “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God.” (Letter to the Romans 13: 1). Augustine’s City of God, written a century after Constantine’s choice, picked up the thread and claimed the Roman Empire had been prepared for its role in the spread of Christianity by God himself. That meant that conquest, plunder, enslavement and cultural extermination were officially acknowledged as appropriate tools for a providential “God” who micro-manages human history. This served as a paradigm for Christian thought throughout subsequent millennia. Power and wealth were “blessings” from “God,” no matter how they were gotten. That’s what “providence” meant.

Evolution

Don’t be fooled by the smooth transitions occurring here. The evolution of the Christian view of political power ended up co-opting Jesus’ message and harnessing it to the goals of empire for external conquest and the internal control of the conquered. Slaves accounted for about 25% of the population of the Empire, mostly obtained through conquest. The economy of the empire was totally dependent on slave-labor. The compassionate, post-exilic Yahweh was actually made subordinate to the warrior king (whom Constantine’s Council at Nicaea identified as Jesus himself) who led the Roman legions to victory, his cross emblazoned on their shields. Jesus and the conquering emperor Constantine were assimilated to one another and Jesus was apotheosized as the Roman Pantocrator: the all ruler who sat in judgment on humankind ― specifically condemning disobedience to the laws of the kingdom and its authorities. Correlatively, the emperor ruled, and conquered, and plundered, and enslaved, in the name of Christ.

Rome took Christianity in stride; the hum of daily life never skipped a beat. Emperor and Church were one entity, a theocracy exactly as it was under Jupiter and Venus. The “secular arm” legislated and imposed sanctions, punishing those who disobeyed, and the Church provided the narrative that divinized Rome as the “kingdom.” No one challenged slavery. And whatever justice was missing in “God’s” kingdom on earth was dismissed by the Church as of no consequence when compared to the pleasures of heaven. All the bases were covered.

It was not in the interest of the Empire to encourage any aspirations toward an end-of-time “kingdom of Justice” that challenged empire’s slave-based economy. Therefore it was extremely convenient that the new state religion wanted people to think of themselves as moral cripples ― losers ― deserving of punishment and thoroughly dependent on the forgiveness of “God,” a promissory note that was brokered exclusively by the Empire’s Church and cashed in only after death. Judaism’s inheritance from the post-exile experience served the Empire well.

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Thus it would seem that there are historical reasons that would support Nietzsche’s characterization. Subsequently, the states in the West reproduced the patterns established by Rome: that “God” worked alongside (Christian) government to insure peace and harmony. The fact that peace and harmony were necessary for the smooth operation of the Imperial machine made the Christian religion something of a windfall for the Empire.

Please note the dynamics operating in this paradigm which has become our common legacy in the West. The “God of compassion” works in the service of the “God of political supremacy,” not the other way around. The ultimate definition of “God” identifies “him” as “all powerful,” the ally and guarantor of power. All other functions of divine intervention were ordered to it as means to an end. Any other belief would be inconsistent with “providence.”

This “theocratic imperative” ― the marriage of religion and political power ― is true everywhere in the West. For many, even “liberation theology” follows this paradigm; they think of it as a reprise of the “Armageddon” theology of the Essenes in modern, progressive garb. In this view “God’s” kingdom is not a spiritual metaphor, but rather a real social/political entity with laws and sanctions and the ability to defend itself. These new structures will guarantee justice for everyone. The “God” who reigns over this kingdom is still the “God of power” and armies; that’s the way “he” has always worked as illustrated by the supremacy of Rome. The only thing that has changed is the identification of the social class that legitimately wields power, makes laws and imposes sanctions.  There are many who are persuaded that “God” has chosen the United States to be the latest version of the “kingdom.”

My reaction is to say that people have a right to decide the social and political structures they want to live by, and to do what is necessary to install them. But they do not have a right to claim that it is “God” who is doing it.

National underdogs and “their” religion

The political character of our concept of “God” in the West is also on display in the national character of western religious denominations. By “national character” I mean that being from a particular local tribe (nation or clan) is invariably linked to a particular religion. When we think of the Irish or the Polish, for example, especially in the United States, we are accustomed to them being Catholic, while we anticipate that Brits and Germans, despite being from neighboring countries in each case, will be Protestant.

I singled out those nationalities not just as examples, but as particularly supportive of my thesis: that religion follows politics. The thesis, however, is double-edged. For the political choices also in turn shape the religion, sometimes in ways that are not anticipated. Who would have expec­ted, for example, that Jesus, who taught that those in authority in his community should be “like children” inviting compliance from their flock and never “lording it over them as the gentiles do,” would eventually be crowned as Pantocrator of the slave-based Roman Empire and be used as divine justification for its brutal and larcenous projects?

In the case of the Irish and the Polish, the national humiliation suffered at the hands of their dominating neighbors impelled them in each case to cling fiercely to a Catholicism that represented opposition to their oppressors. But look how the second “edge” comes into play. The autocratic infallibility claimed by the Catholic Church served as a welcome psychological prop for the humiliated nations against the debasement being dealt out by their enemies. The Irish and Polish people became invested in Catholic ideology. Catholicism made them superior to their antagonists. Certainly for these people, any suggestion that the doctrines of Catholic superiority ― like doctrinal and moral infallibility ― that they found so supportive in their humiliation were actually contrary to the spirit and even explicit counsel of Jesus, or that the “Reformation” embraced by their hated neighbors was actually closer to the mind of Christ, would be rejected at the doorstep. One might reasonably claim that dogmas that otherwise might have evolved into more mollified form if left alone were actively kept in the strictest construction by these ethnic minorities for the purposes of their national/ethnic interests. What they may have bequeathed to the world by their tribal Catholicism is the most potent tool for the dismantling of the democratic experiment that exists to date: a reactionary obdurate Roman Catholic Church ― whose dogmas are the ideological blueprint for the re-establish­ment of Roman Imperialism, and the last bastion of the Ancien Régime in the modern world.

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Everything that this version of events describes can have occurred for only one reason: that people believed that “God” was a supernatural humanoid person. “He” has a will, thinks and chooses, intervenes in history in order to ensure the accomplishment of his intentions, and rewards and punishes humans for compliance or non-compliance with his “commands.” “Providence” means God controls everything.

It seems that the theist humanoid “God” of the traditional western imagination not only was used in place of science to explain phenomena that mystified the human mind, but also functioned to justify the conquests that enslaved the conquered. And just as science has eroded confidence in any personal divine agency in the operations of the physical world, so too, modern political self-deter­mination has challenged the theocratic premise that all power forma­tions, no matter how oppressive, were the will and work of God.

But if, as I have been proposing in this blog since 2009, we were to consider “God” not to be an acting, willing person, but rather the source of our spontaneous sense of the sacred, which I identify as the living material energy ― LIFE ― of which we and everything else in our cosmos is constructed, then much of our historical narrative is exposed as just so much myth. It is all a mirage, a projection, the fantasies of primitive ignorance. They are a major source of the suffering that we have inflicted on one another, for they have been used to justify the exploitation of man by man.

A personal “God” who has a specific will narrows the options open to humankind and, in the hands of a multitude of tribes, necessarily pits them against one another. The level of the resulting slaughter and enslavement is proportionate to the divine approval imagined. The more “religious” the people, the more convinced they are that “God” wills their success and rejects that of others, and the less inhibited they will feel about unleashing unspeakable atrocities on people they identify as their “enemies.”

One could legitimately elaborate a theological argument along the lines of the “ex convenientia” logic of the scholastics and say, if all this follows inevitably or even most probably from the premise of belief in a personal “God,” then it suggests the premise is false, for it makes “God” either an unwitting dupe, if he does not really “will” these things, or a moral cretin if he does. It forces us to re-think our assumptions. Minimally it means the theist “God” of traditional western faith does not exist.

In contrast: “God” as LIFE

LIFE, on the other hand, does not narrow the options open to humankind, it expands them. LIFE supports the autonomous management of our way of life. Our political/economic structures are ours to decide. LIFE has no enemies because it has no “will,” and it has no will because it is not an entity, and certainly not a “person” as we understand the word.

We all know what LIFE is because we are alive and surrounded by living things; we experience it directly and first hand. We may have a hard time defining it in terms other than itself, for we have nothing to compare it to, but we know what it is intimately and interiorly for we are alive. It is responsible for the developments of evolution that have filled our teeming earth with a near infinitude of life forms culminating (from our point of view) in the human species. LIFE does not think except in us; it does not choose except in us; it does not have preferences or a “will” except in us; it does not command or cajole or persuade or punish. It is only in us that it is “personal.”

It is this LIFE that impels us to live and do all those things, positive and negative, necessary for life to continue, that gives rise in us to a sense of the sacred. Existence, being-here, is the grail ― the great quest. We know LIFE in living things because we know LIFE in ourselves; and what we all want is to be-here.

To be-here, ESSE, is to die for. We “live move and have our being” in the living material energy of this cosmos. Matter’s energy is all we are … there is nothing more to us. The living material energy of this cosmos is ESSE, and we are THAT.

So where does that leave us? All of the functions, from the elaboration of the universe to the configurations of our social/political structures, that we have heretofore claimed were the work and will of “God,” are the work of living material energy ― LIFE. But that means they are ours … for we are living matter in its most evolved form on our planet. LIFE enters into those functions as ourselves. What we do is what living matter is capable of. We are the expressions of its potential, the outward manifestation of its inner dimensions and dormant properties. LIFE does not intervene in these issues “personally” for it is not an entity; it is a universal energy. It acts as the forms into which it has evolved. There is a sacredness to these things, but the sacredness does not come from an outside “God” … it comes from within, from energy ― creative, abundant, generous and utterly disinterested ― the characteristics of LIFE that impel our work, our morality, our social constructions, and our environmental responsibilities. This what being-here looks like.

We are the mirrors and agents of the living matter ― the LIFE ― of which we are made. There is a reason why we resonate with all the living things around us, from the smallest one-celled organisms to the great animals in our zoos. We all flee from enemies; we all defend ourselves; we all spend our days hunting for food and shelter; we all seek partners for company and to reproduce our kind; and we all want passionately to be-here. We are all made of the same clay. And that clay is alive and has a bearing that elicits a similar response in us all.

Against this background our theist history is revealed as pure projection ― the creation of a primitive imagination that could not cope with being alone. Did that make us all “losers”? Our modern technological prowess has given us confidence that perhaps we are not. We may be, after all, capable of taking care of ourselves, especially if we don’t delude ourselves with expectations that go beyond the possibilities of material energy. Belief in eternal life, is one of those, as is the thought that we are not biological organisms evolved from and living on this earth with all the needs and limitations that entails. But the business of organizing our communities on this earth so that we can be what we are ― the just and generous, empathetic and sharing, exemplars of the living material energy that we bear as our own ― belongs to us alone.

Tony Equale, October 2018

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Buddhist Enlightenment

a function of matter’s living energy

 

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Enlightenment ― satori in Zen-speak ― like everything else in the Buddhist universe, is empty. That means it is transitory, temporary, co-dependent on the multiple causes that make it arise. It is not a “thing in itself” which could guarantee that once arisen that it would always be there. Enlightenment is impermanent.

That view of things is characteristically Buddhist and stems directly and inescapably from the metaphysical premises implied by the Buddha’s teaching: there is no designer or substrate to the universe. There is no single source, no solid ground that generates or underpins everything. Everything is dependent upon a multiplicity of constantly changing causes that are only the same in rare coincidental instances and those few instances are themselves never repeated.

I believe that both everyday human experience and the findings of modern science belie the Buddhist metaphysical vision, without necessarily challenging the Buddha’s description of experience. There is a homogeneous physical substrate to the universe that underpins all things and that provides a continuity that we all take for granted. It is material energy. It is responsible for all phenomena of whatever kind, including what are traditionally called “spiritual.” But, that one substrate is also an energy that is in a state of constant internal flux that explains the Buddhist experience of impermanence.

The pre-history of material energy

The identification in our western culture of the foundational function of material energy came at the end of a long historical development. In our pre-scientific tradition which reached its high point of synthesis and consensus in the Middle Ages, “being” was the term that all had agreed on for that role. In that dualist worldview all things exercised, to one degree or another, a specific, shared actuation of existence that was paradoxically exactly the same for all: they were-here. God and a speck of dust had something in common: they both existed. But please note: because both shared an idea: existence.

In true Platonic fashion, “being,” though admittedly an abstract idea, was considered a real “thing,” because in that worldview ideas were real things that existed in a world apart and were constructed of a quasi-substance that mimicked matter even while it was totally other than matter. That “idea-stuff” they called “spirit” and it underlay everything. This was the core of the dualism. Between matter and spirit, however, there was no parity; ideas ― spirit ― dominated reality. The dualism was actually a thinly veiled idealism.

The primary spirit was “God” from whom all spirit derived. “God” was the “thing” that was “being itself,” pure spiritual existence, totally actualized with no undeveloped potential whatsoever. The category of spirit included the ideas which existed in the mind of “God” as a kind of blueprint for every other thing in the universe. These ideas ― easily copied and multiplied ― were “poured” into formless matter as into a “receptacle” (cf., The Timaeus of Plato) to create things, whose being came through the idea, the essence of what they were.

Matter’s energy has inherited all the characteristics that were once assigned to spirit. It is now generally accepted in the West that whatever of “spirit” there is, is not a separate substance or force but rather a dimension or property of matter’s energy. And regardless of how science will finally describe its functioning, material energy is the one homogeneous substrate responsible for all forms, features and functions in the known universe. Dualism has become monism, and idealism ― the belief that all reality is ideas and matter is a mirage ― is clearly on its way out.

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Material energy dissipates. It is subject to the law of entropy which presides over the need of all things to seek equilibrium. This dissipation of energy in the service of returning to stasis is responsible for all movement of whatever kind in our cosmos. It is the universal law that governs the fluctuations of material energy and accounts for the impermanence that is so evident to human experience, and identified by the Buddha as the characteristic of reality most instrumental in human suffering.

Dissipation does not occur all at once. It takes place serially at a point in time we call the present moment. Dissipation of energy takes the form of the release of heat that accompanies work. That only happens at one point, and it is not reversible. The heat lost in the performance of work does not reconstitute. Like gravity, it only goes “downhill,” from a hotter body to a colder one. The present moment is identified as that point in the flux and swirl of reality when this irreversible transfer of heat occurs, changing forever the interrelationships of the inner constituents of the reality in question.

The present moment is not imaginary, nor is it merely a human macro-abstraction for quantum processes that occur below the radar of human observation. It is marked by (but not created by) the observable, non-reversible effects of heat transfer. Thus the best interpretations of science corroborate common experience: there is only one “now,” everything else is past or future. Being-here, the continuity in observable presence of a certain configuration of material energy, occurs only here and now. I can guarantee by observation that certain things are-here, and their presence here and now provides incontrovertible evidence that they were-here at a prior moment. But such is the ultimacy and passing impermanence of the present moment for existence, that no present moment can guarantee that the “thing” in question will be-here at any moment in the future.

I see no point in spending time trying to prove there is a “now.” Some highly credentialed academics, in correctly pointing out that there is no way of knowing what is actually occurring now in any location in our universe that is far away from us (since even the light from those places is eons old), have absurdly stated that because we cannot know what is happening now everywhere, that there is no “now” anywhere. That is entirely misleading as stated. Some irreversible heat transfer is occurring at this exact moment in the Andromeda galaxy which is more than 2 million light years away even though I don’t and can never know what it is. That moment occurs now and will never be repeated. How do I know that? Because the 2 million year old light that reaches me from that galaxy exhibits a series of observed irreversible changes from that time that correspond to the flow of time that I am familiar with in our corner of the sky. Novas and supernovas flare-up and recede, binary stars’ rotation can be observed and measured, pulsating quasars periodicity actually provides scientists with a way of calculating distances and elapsed time and those observations and their time-frames are not questioned. There are “nows” occurring everywhere and, regardless of their relative correlation with one another, they are all similar.

It is precisely the accumulation of those moments over unimaginable eons of time that accounts for whatever formations and forces exist in this vast universe in which our planet, nested in its family of planets circling our sun, exists.

But please note: the fact that the existence of the present moment cannot be denied, does not in any way eliminate or alter the evanescent, ephemeral nature of the events in our universe presided over by entropy all of which occur in the present moment.   Mediaeval “spiritual” ideologies like that of Meister Eckhart, which apotheosize the present moment, calling it “the Eternal Now” and claiming that it is a window in time that opens into the eternal changeless “being” ― a pure spirit-God ― which is the ground of our cosmos, is an inference of the dualist worldview; it is pure projection. It is based on the assumption that there are two worlds and that the “other” world exists outside the flow of time.

But there is no indication that there is any permanence anywhere, and the very basis for such putative changelessness, “spirit,” receives no support from science. All evidence points to there being one world. Whatever present moments there are, and however relative the “nows” of different spatial realms might be to one another, they are all the place where irreversible effects occur, never to reverse themselves. All present moments are equally impermanent.

Living organisms constitute a temporary oasis in the Saharan sand-storm of entropic events. By gathering together a large number of interrelated entropic processes occurring in the present moment, LIFE utilizes the energy generated by matter’s endemic fall toward equilibrium to produce a recognizable continuity that, even though it never achieves permanence, transcends the entropic dissipation potential of the present moment. That transcendence is acknowledged as an identity regardless of how ephemeral its perdurance, precisely because it is not limited to the present moment. Time is calculated as the number of present moments achieved by some particular configuration of processes known as an identity.

What is this LIFE that it should work in a way that appears to forestall if not reverse the process of entropic descent into equilibrium? No one knows. Also, because the two processes are so intertwined and mutually dependent that there really is no way to know which is the most basic. What came first, the chicken or the egg? Is material energy fundamentally an inert and lifeless entity subject to entropy which LIFE, as an outside force, exploits for the purposes of generating “things” with trans-entropic identity, or is LIFE the very originating energy of matter itself which proceeds by necessarily recycling itself, achieving a newness through the entropic return to its primitive state as pure energy? In this second option, LIFE and entropy are two sides of the same process which sustains itself through self-purification ― a quantum rebooting. For living organisms this translates to the experience of birth and death, but it immediately suggests they are not opposed to one another but rather the correlative aspects of a single process.

 

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Relationship refers to an intentional valence that is established by conscious living organisms between and among themselves. Because organisms are material things that ultimately succumb to entropy and dissolve, the valences they establish are also passing. But putting the time aspect aside for a moment, it is worth noting that by establishing a valence ― a connection ― relationships create a different kind of transcendence: they transcend the duality that necessarily defines two spatially separate and distinct organisms. The relationship may involve mutually dependent activity, not necessarily always benevolent, as hostility is also a co-depen­dent interactive behavior, but it may also consist of an interchange of cognitive or affective states we call communication, and in the case of humans it can exist as a simple wordless mutual recognition of the identity that each enjoys. The key word is recognition. Relationship is a cognitive phenomenon and presupposes the existence of mind in some form.

In the case of human beings who have reflex consciousness to a degree that allows for self-recognition, there exists the possibility of a relationship with oneself that is not true of other cognitive organisms. Human beings can actually look at themselves thinking, distinguish between successive thoughts or mental images, identify and classify mental events in a time line of past and present, and thus achieve a distance from their own mental processes that is unique, and for all its familiarity utterly incomprehensible.  It is because the cognition occurring in the present moment is able to identify cognitive events that occurred in the past (even the instantaneously immediate past) precisely as not-present, that the human individual can treat its own mental processes ― itself as an object of observation. The human being is able to look at its own mental processes as if they were another’s. It’s the reason why moral transformation is possible. The human organism is capable not only of looking at its own subjective state objectively, but it can also imagine itself in a different mental state. It can control and shape its thoughts and the behavior that proceeds from those thoughts. This is the Buddhist paradigm.

Human thoughts are not opaque. They do not present a solid interface with reality that would prevent other thoughts from occupying the same space and time frame. Human thought is transparent to itself so that the identity that is the self can use its current mental action to set a distance from any other mental action, no matter how instantaneously contiguous, and relate to it as no longer representative of its identity. This is what occurs in the process of moral/spiritual transformation. The individual imagines a self that currently does not exist, and through the incremental self-habitua­tion of its thinking to what it imagines, becomes that other self.

In this way it is entirely legitimate to say that one can have a relationship with oneself. Of course, the alert Buddhist will see that this analysis supports and even describes the value-guided reflexive observation and thought-control we call meditation― the foundational practice of Buddhism.

Enlightenment, satori

Enlightenment is a present moment in which a multitude of mental and physical phenomena, internal and external to the subject, come together to produce a complete quiescence of cognitive affectivity. The human organism has a noetic-somatic experience in which the conatus’ accustomed drive for whatever survival demands are next, ceases. It is a moment of stillness. There is no striving, no thought, no desire, no need, no lack, no disquiet of any kind. It’s not without content, however, as it is filled with awareness of the plethora of factors that congealed in that satori. But those remnants of thoughts, desires, anxieties, aspirations, regrets, whatever and however many they may be, are observable as past, like the wake of a ship that is visible only because the vessel has already moved on; they are utterly without affect, even the intellectual desire to understand sleeps.

Even though enlightenment is the unstated goal of all meditative practice, if it is pursued as a goal it eternally eludes the grasp of the practitioner. It is a necessarily passive event whose very essence is that it is the experience of the end of striving. To strive after the end of striving, of all mis-steps, is the most disingenuous and self-defeating. The corollary assumption that the moment of enlightenment only occurs in and is produced by meditation is also misguided. Enlightenment can take place at any point, in any present moment. It happens when a confluence of factors bring the human mind to the point of a concrete, body-included conviction of its time-transcen­ding existence, thus momentarily suspending the needy clamor of the conatus’ incessant quest for acquiring the means to be-here. The conatus is silenced because in that moment the organism is thunderstruck by an experience of its own existential security ― an experience that evokes a sense of permanence.

The paradox here is that this experience of permanence is momentary ― it occurs in some present moment, and is the product of a multitude of unknown and unrepeatable factors, all of which make it impermanent. The enlightenment passes, and with it the state of conviction. But the memory of it lingers. And just as one can intellectually remember the moment when one fell in love but emotionally does not experience the same feelings, enlightenment, which is a similar phenomenon in many ways, is remembered without reproducing the experience.

Mystics of theist religions (Christian, Islamic, Jewish) who try to describe this experience insist on their own passivity by attributing the event to the initiative of the personal “God” of their belief system who guarantees “eternal” life. Thus they explain their own lifelong striving to have or repeat the experience by saying they are placing themselves in a state of disposition ― making themselves available, as it were, for the divine initiative. Hindu practitioners, who do not believe in an interacting “God” claim that enlightenment is the passive realization of their own spirit’s oneness with the spirit that sustains the universe revealing their own participation in that permanence.

Buddhist enlightenment differs from these because, while it does not actively repudiate the existence of a “God” or even the Hindu Atman, it brackets them as irrelevant to the issue of human suffering stemming from craving. Buddhism insists that its practices and experiences stand on their own and owe their effectiveness to union with the Dharma, or the Way of Nature. Human beings who are part of nature, flourish when they mesh with its processes. This is completely consistent with a universe of living matter. Enlightenment is an experience of an individual’s synchronicity with the Dharma. Once the practitioner has advanced sufficiently in the eradication of craving, the conatus’ insistence is undermined and at some unpredictable moment stunned into stillness before the irrefutable logic of detachment. The claim to be needy ― which is the conatus’ stock-in-trade, the source of craving and the justification for selfishness ― is utterly demolished by the indisputable evidence: the organism survives and even thrives in the absence of the objects of its craving, and the cessation of the craving itself. All this is the work of the practitioner, not of “God” or the Atman. The “passivity” experienced comes from the unpredictability of the moment of confluence, and its rapid disappearance in the flow of time.

Enlightenment is a function of matter’s living energy whose conatus anxiously drives the organism to continue to be-here. That drive, the instinct for self-preservation and self-enhancement, which expresses itself in a myriad of urges, fears, desires and pursuits is involuntary and not suppressible. It is the conatus itself, the innate coherence of the network of material processes that constitute the “self” of the human organism, that is temporarily stilled when at a given moment it is overwhelmed with evidence that all its anxieties are the result of delusion. For all its impermanence, being-here as a concrescence of living matter is a given. No amount of striving can create it or change its impermanent character; no amount of resistance can prevent its dissolution. Like the drive of the conatus itself, to which it corresponds, the enlightenment experience is involuntary and not suppressible.

 

Tony Equale

October 8, 2018

Psalms 147 to 150

PSALM 147

Background. This is the second of the final 5 psalms, the coda of praise that closes the psalter. Murphy says this psalm shows clear indications of being post-exilic. There are allusions to themes found in Isaiah 40, and the association of Yahweh with “wisdom” is characteristic of later Judaism. Reference to the “brokenhearted” and “binding their wounds” evokes the return from the exile; and there is a new understanding that Yahweh’s “power” does not mean military might. A deep appreciation of nature and Yahweh’s “command” that brings it forth, is identified with the commands of the torah, Yahweh’s wisdom that he has shared with no one else.

Reflection. The transition of the Jewish understanding of Yahweh from a warrior god to the source of moral wisdom and the author of the life-sustaining cycles of nature is clearly in evidence here. It approximates Yahweh to our current understanding of LIFE and it corroborates the main theme of these commentaries. The abasement and humiliation of Israel in the exile completely belied the assumed terms of the original contract with the warrior god whom they believed liberated them from their Egyptian slavery and guaranteed them eventual military and political ascendancy. One can imagine the gut-wrenching re-evaluations that had to be made by the exiles who refused to lose faith in Yahweh even though he seemed to abandon them to enslavement to the Babylonians. Going so far as to actually reconceive the “nature of ‘God,’” as they understood it, shows how profoundly harrowing the experience was. But, really, there was no alternative; otherwise they would have to have admitted that the world-dominating Marduk and Tiamat were the only true gods.

The experience of our own times, however, makes it unmistakably clear that what we are dealing with in this psalm is not the record of some transition that happened once and for all in ancient history. We are rather in the presence of a perennial theme ― like a tragic flaw ― the constantly recurring failure of humankind to understand the sacred as the moral dimension of the LIFE in which “we live and move and have our being,” and not a miracle-working, providential “god” of military/physical power, political control and magic healing. The inability to separate what is most important for human beings from their political and economic ascendancy ― their social survival ― constitutes the blindness that eternally propels our species into self-destruction. We tear one another apart in our effort to dominate others and prevent ourselves from being dominated. This selfishness and paranoia translates into a mutilated concept of the sacred, conceived as a “god” who “wills” that the wealthy and powerful rule the world ― a “god” that we try to harness to our interests. The grooves of this unchallenged assumption cut so deep that humankind seems to have lost the capacity to even imagine a human society that is not made up of winners and losers, rich and poor, commanders and obeyers, masters and slaves and a “god” who sides always with the victorious.

But we who know that the wellspring of human energy is the very LIFE that enlivens us, also see clearly that the patterns of generous superabundant donation that characterize LIFE provide the paradigm for human behavior: our morality ― the justice, generosity and compassion with which we treat one another. Our traditional religious delusion that we will find justice and peace after death in some imaginary “heaven,” is a manifestation of the depth of our alienation: we have lost faith in our capacity to establish a just society on earth.

This psalm challenges that delusion by clearly identifying the source of our power as LIFE itself. LIFE’s generous, non-judgmental self-donation is both the model and the energizer of our human labor. Building a human family is our job as emergent forms of LIFE.

1 Praise the LORD! How good it is to sing praises to our God; for he is gracious, and deserves our praise.

2 The LORD builds up Jerusalem; he gathers the outcasts of Israel.

3 He heals the brokenhearted, and binds up their wounds.

Like the Jews’ return from the exile, LIFE’s work in us is re-building the broken human community, and transforming it from a jungle of institutionalized combat yielding masters and slaves, into a family of uncompromising justice, mutual sharing and compassionate forgiveness.

4 He determines the number of the stars; he gives to all of them their names.

5 Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; his understanding is beyond measure.

It is the same LIFE that energizes all things, whose autonomous thirst for more LIFE has driven the creative evolution that elaborated this vast cosmos and our marvelous earth. LIFE gives itself for others to use, and in their living hands they have produced more LIFE.

6 The LORD lifts up the downtrodden; he casts the wicked to the ground.

7 Sing to the LORD with thanksgiving; make melody to our God on the lyre.

In living human hands LIFE lifts up the downtrodden … this is all the work of LIFE.

8 He covers the heavens with clouds, prepares rain for the earth, makes grass grow on the hills.

9 He gives to the animals their food, and to the young ravens when they cry.

LIFE’s lavish generosity is unmistakable. You’d have to be blind not to see it.

10 His delight is not in the strength of the horse, nor his pleasure in the speed of a runner;

11 but the LORD takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love.

Military/physical might is not LIFE’s defining quality. Our imitation of LIFE is in our moral response. The pursuit of wealth and power only seem to offer LIFE, but the experience of humankind over many millennia has proven otherwise. Look at what it has done to us!

12 Praise the LORD, O Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion!

13 For he strengthens the bars of your gates; he blesses your children within you.

14 He grants peace within your borders; he fills you with the finest of wheat.

LIFE in our living human hands will restore the human family, just as it restores the fertility of the land in the spring after the death blows of winter. LIFE, activated in us, is torah, dharma, tao.

15 He sends out his command to the earth; his word runs swiftly.

16 He gives snow like wool; he scatters frost like ashes.

17 He hurls down hail like crumbs — who can stand before his cold?

18 He sends out his word, and melts them; he makes his wind blow, and the waters flow.

19 He declares his word to Jacob, his statutes and ordinances to Israel.

20 He has not dealt thus with any other nation; they do not know his ordinances. Praise the LORD!

 

PSALM 148

Background. A psalm of praise for Yahweh rising from all things: nature first, in all its many manifestations listed in a definable order according to the “scientific” tradition of the ancient near-east, as reflected in ancient Egyptian documents and other books of the OT ― in the heavens, on earth and in the waters (symbol of chaos now controlled by Yahweh’s power); and then from humankind, starting with the leaders and extending to everyone young and old.

Reflection. LIFE ― living material energy ― is what is afoot in the universe, and we are one of its emergent forms. Make no mistake, it is all the work of LIFE … including the work we do. It was never ours so that we could claim authorship. Every facet and feature of our organisms has been elaborated by living matter’s relentless pursuit of being-here. But we are not unique in that. Everything in the cosmos, living and non-living, on earth, in the heavens and wherever in the realms of raw chaos it may exist still unknown to us, is a version of living matter. We are not our own. We don’t have LIFE, we are LIFE! LIFE is everything!

1 Praise the LORD! Praise the LORD from the heavens; praise him in the heights!

2 Praise him, all his angels; praise him, all his host!

3 Praise him, sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars!

4 Praise him, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens!

5 Let them praise the name of the LORD, for he commanded and they were created.

6 He established them forever and ever; he fixed their bounds, which cannot be passed.

7 Praise the LORD from the earth, you sea monsters and all deeps,

Living matter ― LIFE ― is the foundation material of everything. Its intrinsic proclivity to aggregate in homogeneous clusters, integrate within itself and complexify through a drive to sustain presence, has forced evolutionary development and has made a structured, ordered cosmos where once there was and could always have been chaos.

8 fire and hail, snow and frost, stormy wind fulfilling his command!

9 Mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars!

10 Wild animals and all cattle, creeping things and flying birds!

The same is true of everything on earth, the place where we first learned of the paradigm of evolution.

11 Kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all rulers of the earth!

12 Young men and women alike, old and young together!

13 Let them praise the name of the LORD, for his name alone is exalted; his glory is above earth and heaven.

14 He has raised up a horn for his people, praise for all his faithful, for the people of Israel who are close to him.   Praise the LORD!

LIFE on earth is now managed by its most developed form to date, humankind. Clearly LIFE is predisposed to function along the same lines in humankind as in the cosmos and among the other species of life on earth. The human species owes everything it has and can do, to LIFE!

PSALM 149

Background. A psalm of praise for Yahweh’s support of Israel. It represents a return to the primitive imagery of Yahweh as a warrior-god. It celebrates military victory and Israel’s supremacy over others.

Reflection. Neither in ancient times nor today, have human beings ― in their attempt to connect with the sacred ― ever demonstrated the sustained capacity to finally break with the social / political paradigm of physical coercion in the pursuit of domination over others. Perhaps if we could transfer the belligerence and paranoia evident in this psalm to our real “enemies,” our selfishness, pride, greed, lust ― all aberrations born of a mistrust of LIFE and its processes ― then maybe we could use this poem as prayer ourselves. Otherwise, as literally expressed, these sentiments are inimical to our efforts to become the mirrors and agents of LIFE.

1 Praise the LORD! Sing to the LORD a new song, his praise in the assembly of the faithful.

2 Let Israel be glad in its Maker; let the children of Zion rejoice in their King.

3 Let them praise his name with dancing, making melody to him with tambourine and lyre.

4 For the LORD takes pleasure in his people; he adorns the humble with victory.

LIFE indeed works for our well-being and joy. LIFE’s ways, if allowed to characterize our relations with one another, will bring peace, justice, harmony and collective celebration to our community.

5 Let the faithful exult in glory; let them sing for joy on their couches.

6 Let the high praises of God be in their throats and two-edged swords in their hands,

7 to execute vengeance on the nations and punishment on the peoples,

8 to bind their kings with fetters and their nobles with chains of iron,

9 to execute on them the judgment decreed. This is glory for all his faithful ones. Praise the LORD!

Our penchant for violent coercion, born of our awareness how vulnerable we all are to the fear of death, is itself one of our most intractable enemies. We know how the threat of death can drive people to do what otherwise they would not. This creates a “two-edged sword” that we have to disarm and disable: the one edge is the fear we ourselves have of being killed, or isolated, or marginated, or impoverished, disregarded, dismissed, ignored, ridiculed. That fear is a great enemy to our transformation into the mirrors and agents of LIFE. It is defeated through meditation and mindfulness putting into practice the daily disciplines of self-abnegation, the overthrow of the tyrannical ego, the service and enhancement of others, and the quiet attention to the marvels of LIFE. Courage in the face of death is not a spontaneous inclination; it is a personal capacity that we must choose, develop, train and maintain … or we will lose it. It is our daily work.

The other edge is the temp­tation to exploit others’ fear of death or diminishment, to force them to submit to us, do our bidding, acknow­ledge our supremacy ― or to encourage our leaders (bosses, cops, government officials, generals) to employ those tactics in the running of society and the relations among nations for the benefit of “us” rather than “them.” Training ourselves never to use or encourage violence ― physical or psychological ― in the pursuit of our legitimate interests is the work of a life time.

 

PSALM 150

Background. This psalm ends the psalter. A pure uncomplicated, virtually contentless, hymn of praise. The poet invites the people to praise Yahweh in every way possible way ― with “everything you’ve got.” A fitting end to a unique collection of relational poetry from a people who were convinced their “God” could and would save them from destruction and extinction.

Reflection. Praise, in that sense, was a response to a benevolent application of power. Without power “God” could save no one. The radical shift in the definition of “power” from coercive physical force in the early Yahwist tradition, to the potential to yoke oneself to TORAH ― to become one with LIFE itself ― in the post-exilic prophets and sages, represents a seminal and revolutionary insight about “religion” that has yet to be realized. Religion ― salvation ― is not about building the capacity of the ego, individual or collective, to dominate and control existence, it is about insight into the need to neutralize the ego and synchronize with LIFE, the source and sustainer of all things.

1 Praise the LORD! Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him in his mighty firmament!

2 Praise him for his mighty deeds; praise him according to his surpassing greatness!

3 Praise him with trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp!

4 Praise him with tambourine and dance; praise him with strings and pipe!

5 Praise him with clanging cymbals; praise him with loud clashing cymbals!

6 Let everything that breathes praise the LORD! Praise the LORD!

We sing, at every present moment, wherever we find ourselves, in whatever we are doing, with whomever we are travelling, of LIFE, the living energy in which we live and move and have our being.

 

Psalms 143 to 146

 

PSALM 143

Background. A personal lament. The seventh penitential psalm. Standard boiler-plate pleas against enemies are set, unexpectedly and intriguingly, alongside unusual calls for Yahweh’s assistance in following the torah. The poet humbly acknowledges “no one living is righteous before you.” He is clearly someone committed to moral goodness and by “enemies” he may very well have meant obstacles to his uprightness and fidelity.

Reflection. The human condition is intrinsically conflicted. The same organismic energy that inclines us to generosity and compassion also impels us to take care of ourselves. The disciplines of transformation that we practice are intended to bring those two apparently disparate inclinations together, so that our desires and cravings become focused on giving and serving the totality ― others! The awareness of the gap between these spontaneous urges can generate a sense of guilt. But there is no time or need for that. No “god” has been offended by our failure to bring these two aspects of our organism together. If we have failed anyone it is ourselves and the community that depends on us. We are committed to the process. We call on LIFE itself, the LIFE that is emergent in us, to be all we are, so that the gap disappears and we become as LIFE itself: generous, loving and compassionate servants of all.

1 Hear my prayer, O LORD; give ear to my supplications in your faithfulness; answer me in your righteousness.

2 Do not enter into judgment with your servant, for no one living is righteous before you.

This apposition is revealing. No one is righteous for the enemy crushes us and makes us sit in darkness. Where has LIFE, my LIFE, disappeared to? Who is this enemy?

3 For the enemy has pursued me, crushing my life to the ground, making me sit in darkness like those long dead.

4 Therefore my spirit faints within me; my heart within me is appalled.

5 I remember the days of old, I think about all your deeds, I meditate on the works of your hands.

I am my own worst enemy. My meditation is on LIFE. I know the power and the direction of LIFE, why is it not operative in me? Who’s failing here … is it me or LIFE? In any case, it is the LIFE that is in me that can do what needs to be done.

6 I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.

7 Answer me quickly, O LORD; my spirit fails. Do not hide your face from me, or I shall be like those who go down to the Pit.

8 Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning, for in you I put my trust. Teach me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul.

Unashamed, I call on LIFE. I know LIFE is not separate or distinct from me, but I feel so overwhelmed that I don’t know what else to do but cry out to LIFE. It is LIFE, after all, that I am; and it is LIFE that I want to be in all my actions.

9 Save me, O LORD, from my enemies; I have fled to you for refuge.

10 Teach me to do your will, for you are my God. Let your good spirit lead me on a level path.

11 For your name’s sake, O LORD, preserve my life. In your righteousness bring me out of trouble.

Clearly, here, the poet juxtaposes moral righteousness and the enemies.  The enemies must be the enemies of righteousness.  No wonder the modern psalmist sees them as the enemies of the torah, the dharma … the doubts, fears, self-denigration, attachments, addictions, defense mechanisms that prevent us from sticking with the practices that will, little by little, transform us into the mirrors and agents of LIFE.

12 In your steadfast love cut off my enemies, and destroy all my adversaries, for I am your servant.

 

PSALM 144

Background. Murphy believes this is a royal psalm, a prayer by and for the king. He suggests it was modelled on psalm 18. The king is the ultimate warrior, the servant-defender of the nation against foreign enemies; Yahweh fights with him against these forces who lie and scheme, with chaos and death in the balance; he plays the harp anew like David and relies on Yahweh; he prays for the health, strength and prosperity of the people, for which he is responsible and will be judged. He is the servant of all.

Reflection. The tribalism/nationalism symbolized by the warrior king has been superseded in our time. Our nations are now neighboring families protected under the umbrella of a universal humankind that increasingly characterizes our politics and power distributions. If anyone can be called “king” metaphorically it is individuals who strive to be the servants of humankind ― the totality of LIFE’s evolved offspring. They struggle against the forces that would alienate us from one another, resurrecting a tribalism that feeds on war as its fuel and identity. Their ultimate goal is the good of each and all, the prosperity and distributive justice that will ensure that everyone’s sons and daughters will be strong and healthy. LIFE can be thought of as fighting alongside such warriors, but it is only a poetic allusion. For in fact the reality is fiercely literal: those who fight such battles are LIFE itself in combat mode.

1 Blessed be the LORD, my rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle;

2 my rock and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield, in whom I take refuge, who subdues the peoples under me.

I am the agent of LIFE. LIFE’s struggles are mine; the forces within all of us that would militate against the goals of LIFE will be subdued by the power of LIFE. I train and discipline myself in preparation for the struggle. The community depends on it.

3 O LORD, what are human beings that you regard them, or mortals that you think of them?

4 They are like a breath; their days are like a passing shadow.

What is my organism except the evolved form LIFE has assumed. The collection of atoms and molecules that comprise my body would be nothing but a mass of protoplasm ― impotent ― if they were not alive. It is the fact that they are LIFE, living matter, that reveals their power.

5 Bow your heavens, O LORD, and come down; touch the mountains so that they smoke.

6 Make the lightning flash and scatter them; send out your arrows and rout them.

I am awed by that power … and that power is mine, for I am LIFE.  I must stay in shape or that power is lost.

7 Stretch out your hand from on high; set me free and rescue me from the mighty waters, from the hand of aliens,

8 whose mouths speak lies, and whose right hands are false.

The waters of chaos and oblivion are no match for the power of LIFE. Entropy would deceive us, it would persuade us that LIFE is an illusion. All must succumb to entropy.

9 I will sing a new song to you, O God; upon a ten-stringed harp I will play to you,

10 the one who gives victory to kings, who rescues his servant David.

I sing of LIFE which knows how to wrest the energy from entropy and turn it into LIFE.

11 Rescue me from the cruel sword, and deliver me from the hand of aliens, whose mouths speak lies, and whose right hands are false.

I know LIFE directly. I am not dismayed by entropy’s boasts. LIFE’s generous abundance is driven to expand LIFE. LIFE ― matter’s living energy ― constitutes my organism. Where it goes, I go; what it does, I do. I am THAT.

12 May our sons in their youth be like plants full grown, our daughters like corner pillars, cut for the building of a palace.

13 May our barns be filled, with produce of every kind; may our sheep increase by thousands, by tens of thousands in our fields,

14 and may our cattle be heavy with young. May there be no breach in the walls, no exile, and no cry of distress in our streets.

15 Happy are the people to whom such blessings fall; happy are the people whose God is the LORD.

 

PSALM 145

Background. An acrostic poem ― each line is in alphabetical sequence ― which apparently explains the re-presentation of thematic material from other psalms; but all are focused on praise of Yahweh. Yahweh is first praised for his “works,” alluding to creation, then for his “rule” which evokes the theme of Israel’s ascendancy under Yahweh’s guidance and finally for his compassion and readiness to help the weak and downtrodden.

Reflection. We cannot suppress our gratitude to LIFE which brought us into existence through eons of evolutionary time and an infinity of unknown factors. It is this universe of living matter that brought all this ― our earth, our organisms, our communities ― together. We are all here at the same time. What a great party!  It puts on raucous display the superabundance of the material energy that we are constructed of … a gift of incalculable proportions by which we have creatively developed ourselves … for we are THAT!

1 I will extol you, my God and King, and bless your name forever and ever.

2 Every day I will bless you, and praise your name forever and ever.

3 Great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised; his greatness is unsearchable.

4 One generation shall laud your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts.

5 On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.

6 The might of your awesome deeds shall be proclaimed, and I will declare your greatness.

7 They shall celebrate the fame of your abundant goodness, and shall sing aloud of your righteousness.

8 The LORD is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.

9 The LORD is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.

10 All your works shall give thanks to you, O LORD, and all your faithful shall bless you.

Having praised the “works” of LIFE we celebrate its power to create a just, generous and compassionate human community ― a “kingdom” like no other.

11 They shall speak of the glory of your kingdom, and tell of your power,

12 to make known to all people your mighty deeds, and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.

13 Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and your dominion endures throughout all generations. The LORD is faithful in all his words, and gracious in all his deeds.

The compassion we have to have for one another if our communities are to neutralize the crushing, dehumanizing fear of death, is inspired by LIFE’s non-judgmental generosity, sharing its gifts and power even with those who would abuse them. Our compassion is the work of LIFE, and the fruit of our compassion is the family of humankind. We are in the hands of LIFE. We trust it; even as it provided us with ourselves, we trust it will provide us with what we need to live.

14 The LORD upholds all who are falling, and raises up all who are bowed down.

15 The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food in due season.

16 You open your hand, satisfying the desire of every living thing.

17 The LORD is just in all his ways, and kind in all his doings.

18 The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.

19 He fulfills the desire of all who fear him; he also hears their cry, and saves them.

20 The LORD watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy.

21 My mouth will speak the praise of the LORD, and all flesh will bless his holy name forever and ever.

 

PSALM 146

Background. This poem introduces the last group of “alleluia” psalms, psalms of praise, clearly grouped together at the end of the psalter to form a coda to the entire collection. The concrete images that characterize the post-exilic understanding of Yahweh, no longer the warrior champion able to defeat other gods, dominate the last five verses. He is now the God of compassion and support of the poor, weak and defenseless. Was this meant metaphorically? Or was it an inducement?

Reflection. The gap between the imagery of vv. 5-10 and reality, had to be as obvious to the poet as it is to us.   How can we account for this disparity without imputing a mindless verbal formalism to the psalmist ― a mouthing of empty platitudes? Could the author and redactors have understood “Yahweh,” as we do, to be the very force of LIFE that enlivens, energizes and enlightens us to the awe and respect for the living things around us, impelling us to establish justice, compassion and generosity in our communities and in our relationships to all things? For who is it that has to give food to the hungry if not ourselves? Who will protect the stranger, the defenseless, the widows and orphans, take the blind by the hand and lift up those whose hearts are broken by the avalanche of death, if we do not do it. It is LIFE, functioning in and as us, that does these things. We are LIFE in its most agile, intelligent, empathetic form to date. How else can LIFE do these things except in its most morally evolved form? We do not do these things for LIFE. We are LIFE. We do them because LIFE is what we are.

1 Praise the LORD! Praise the LORD, O my soul!

2 I will praise the LORD as long as I live; I will sing praises to my God all my life long.

3 Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is no help.

4 When their breath departs, they return to the earth; on that very day their plans perish.

5 Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the LORD their God,

The power of LIFE is immense. It was responsible for the development of this material cosmos and all the awesome things that have evolved from its living matter.

6 who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them; who keeps faith forever;

Not least of which is humankind, a being so akin to the profuse abundant generosity of matter’s LIFE itself that it is compelled to works of heroic justice and profligate compassion. We give food to the hungry, we set prisoners free, we walk together with the blind, we share ourselves with those who are bowed down, strangers frightened in a strange land, the widow and orphan who have no source of sustenance and protection. We are LIFE, and we install the reign of LIFE wherever we go. We can’t help it. It’s who we are.

7 who executes justice for the oppressed; who gives food to the hungry. The LORD sets the prisoners free;

8 the LORD opens the eyes of the blind. The LORD lifts up those who are bowed down; the LORD loves the righteous.

9 The LORD watches over the strangers; he upholds the orphan and the widow, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.

10 The LORD will reign forever, your God, O Zion, for all generations. Praise the LORD!

Psalms 138 to 142

PSALM 138

Background. A Thanksgiving psalm from the days when Yahweh was believed to be one of many gods, the greatest, to be sure, but not the only one. Yahweh’s supremacy entails a universalism: all the kings of the earth shall praise him. In verse 6 the subject abruptly changes to the first person singular. Is it the king? Humility characterizes the psalmist’s attitude before Yahweh whose virtues are precisely that he regards the lowly and defenseless. But the poet makes acknowledgement of an official mandate or mission of some kind, a “purpose” imposed by Yahweh which the supplicant seeks support to fulfill.

Reflection. LIFE has only one purpose, more LIFE. It would seem difficult NOT to fulfill one’s purpose in LIFE since we are biologically programmed to reproduce and care for our offspring. But our emptiness of self means that we are simultaneously the effect of a myriad of causes. We are each a microcosm of the totality of matter’s living energy. Our conatus and its ancillary drives is also an expression of the totality’s self-embrace as an inter-dependent network of mutuality and sharing. We recognize how all things strive to stay alive. LIFE is exalted above everything. To be-here is to die for. We are conscious of bearing the burden of LIFE to expand LIFE, protect it, nurture it. We are part of a whole and cannot live for ourselves.

1 I give you thanks, O LORD, with my whole heart; before the gods I sing your praise;

2 I bow down toward your holy temple and give thanks to your name for your steadfast love and your faithfulness; for you have exalted your name and your word above everything.

3 On the day I called, you answered me, you increased my strength of soul.

4 All the kings of the earth shall praise you, O LORD, for they have heard the words of your mouth.

5 They shall sing of the ways of the LORD, for great is the glory of the LORD.

This overwhelming privilege ― to be an emergent expression of LIFE’S living energy ― imposes a heavy responsibility: each of us has to learn how to live for the whole, and not for ourselves alone. Living for others is not something we can sustain spontaneously. We need to train ourselves, discipline ourselves, habituate ourselves to the service of others. LIFE depends on our transformation into being the mirrors and agents of its generosity, and if we call on LIFE to fulfill its purpose in us, it is ourselves we are calling on ― for we are LIFE.

6 For though the LORD is high, he regards the lowly; but the haughty he perceives from far away.

7 Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve me against the wrath of my enemies; you stretch out your hand, and your right hand delivers me.

8 The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands.

 

PSALM 139

Background. Murphy says “the ‘I-Thou’ character of this psalm makes it one of the most personal and beautiful expressions in the OT.” (JBC, OT, p.600) The psalmist is enraptured with the intimate presence of Yahweh. With an interpersonal mysticism that is rarely found expressed in ancient times, this poem seems either to have anticipated future developments or actually been a later wisdom product, like the Song of Solomon, that was captured for inclusion in the Temple’s liturgical collection. The abrupt change in the last five verses to protestations of “hatred” for Yahweh’s enemies suggests the former. This is not the spirituality of the Upanishads which had already adumbrated the desirability of non-violence; it is classic Yahwism ― still a warrior religion.

Reflection. LIFE is more intimate to us that we are to ourselves. This echoes Augustine’s perceptive insight: Tu autem eras interior intimo meo … (Conf., 3.6.11). This is so because there really is no duality, no separation, no difference, no distinction, between what we are and LIFE. We are LIFE ― matter’s living existential energy ― in one of its emerged forms. We are not different from it even though we are not all of it. LIFE transcends any of us … and all of us … for it is the inexhaustible source that enlivens all things and will continue to enliven things as they emerge into perceptible existence throughout the immeasurable future of our material cosmos. This strange paradox ― that LIFE is more than us even though we are all and only LIFE ― accounts for our persistent instinctive urge to call out to it, to communicate with it, to ask it for help as if it were something other than us. And for that same reason, when we awake from our distracted mindlessness and come face to face with our reality as an evolved emergent form of LIFE, it feels as if we are suddenly in the presence of someone else. That surprise is simply an indication of how alienated we had become from ourselves.

Once it becomes clear that the presence of LIFE is more intimate than even the closeness of a lover or parent, the corollary images explode like fireworks in the poet’s mind: LIFE is with me everywhere that I am or could ever be … in whatever condition or state of mind. Even in hell … yes, even in hell.  The psalmist’s consciousness of the creative biological activity that “knit” and “wove” her body in preparation for birth, anticipates the clarifications of modern science to a remarkable degree. The poetry provides its own rich and evocative metaphors. It can be embraced as it is. It needs no commentary.

1 O LORD, you have searched me and known me.

2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away.

3 You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways.

4 Even before a word is on my tongue, O LORD, you know it completely.

5 You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.

6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it.

7 Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence?

8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.

Even when I have been living distractedly; even when I have been acting selfishly, mindlessly, LIFE is there activating my organism with undeterred generosity and tireless energy.  Even when I forget who I am, even in the dregs of dissolution and despair LIFE sustains me.  There is no escape. LIFE’s way is always open to me.  There is no space or time for guilt; even when I have abandoned and betrayed the way of transformation, LIFE is fully present and I am alive with it.  I waste no time in seeking forgiveness; the only one I have hurt is myself.  Get back on your horse!

9 If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,

10 even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.

11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night,”

12 even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you.

13 For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.

15 My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.

I ride on LIFE’S energy to be-here. I am constructed of living matter ― LIFE ― it is who and what I am. I live so that LIFE may abound.

16 Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.

17 How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!

18 I try to count them — they are more than the sand; I come to the end — I am still with you.

The following verses is where the poet reveals his primitive Yahwism. He still worships a warrior god. He has yet to realize that LIFE has no enemies and hates no one. Those that contend against LIFE are themselves, like all of us, emerged forms of LIFE. We cannot separate ourselves from them, nor does LIFE need to be protected from them. LIFE can take care of itself.

And since we are LIFE, we don’t really need to protect ourselves either. We may do so to establish the boundaries of justice and to educate our assailant, but not out of need. What we should hate is that inclination in us always ready “to speak maliciously of LIFE, and lift ourselves up against it for evil.”

19 O that you would kill the wicked, O God, and that the bloodthirsty would depart from me

20 those who speak of you maliciously, and lift themselves up against you for evil!

21 Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD?   And do I not loathe those who rise up against you?

22 I hate them with perfect hatred; I count them my enemies.

23 Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts.

24 See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

 

PSALM 140

Background. An individual lament. The psalmist in traditional Yahwist style thinks of “God” as a powerful knight errant ready to defend the weak and those under his protection. The poet wants his enemies punished with exactly those torments they had devised for him. Thus the justice of vengeance is not transcended, merely updated and assigned to Yahweh.

Reflection. LIFE has no enemies and cannot be called up to punish those who operate out of synch with its patterns. Vengeance is obsolete. Punishment occurs, however, but it is the result of a cause that has been introduced into the chain of natural events that will produce a negative effect. No one is carrying out this sentence, it is a simple case of cause and effect. One could call it a mechanism except for the fact that we are capable of choosing otherwise. Once chosen, however, the effect is inevitable. The Buddhists call it karma. It is a simple corollary to understanding human morality to be not the “will” of a “God,” but the nature of the human organism-in-community.

In using this psalm, therefore, it is preferable to transpose the entire scenario as imagined to the level of metaphor. The only real “enemy” is my selfish illusory attempt to aggrandize myself and deny the existence of my place in the totality … in this family, in this clan, in this village, in this human species, on this earth, in this universe … and fail to activate the justice and generosity my membership in all these concentric circles entails. I recognize that it is self-aggrandize­ment, either of the individual or of some group, that “stir up wars continually,” and in that pursuit “make their tongue sharp as a snake’s.” These are the products of human selfishness and, at the end of the day, human selfishness is responsible for all our troubles. We want the consequences of our actions to stand clearly before our eyes so that the torments we plan for others in our quest for supremacy we will feel as if our own. It is our empathy leading to compassion that will deter us from ever taking the downward path toward an ever more insane self-destructive selfishness.

1 Deliver me, O LORD, from evildoers; protect me from those who are violent,

2 who plan evil things in their minds and stir up wars continually.

3 They make their tongue sharp as a snake’s, and under their lips is the venom of vipers.

4 Guard me, O LORD, from the hands of the wicked; protect me from the violent who have planned my downfall.

5 The arrogant have hidden a trap for me, and with cords they have spread a net, along the road they have set snares for me.

6 I say to the LORD, “You are my God; give ear, O LORD, to the voice of my supplications.”

7 O LORD, my Lord, my strong deliverer, you have covered my head in the day of battle.

8 Do not grant, O LORD, the desires of the wicked; do not further their evil plot.

9 Those who surround me lift up their heads; let the mischief of their lips overwhelm them!

10 Let burning coals fall on them! Let them be flung into pits, no more to rise!

This vengeful and retaliatory sentiment is an indication of the age of this ancient poetry. The mindset was already obsolete by the time of the writing of the Book of Proverbs where we read:

If your enemies are hungry, give them bread to eat; and if they are thirsty, give them water to drink; for you will heap coals of fire on their heads, and the LORD will reward you. (Proverbs, ch 25: 21-22; cf. Romans, 12: 20)

This attitude cited by Paul, which has been falsely ascribed to Jesus and Christianity, is thoroughly Jewish and antedated Jesus by many centuries. It highlights the fact that Jesus’ message was simply a renewed call to Jews to live the way “God” wanted Jews to live. It has been part of Buddhist practice in the doctrine of karma from the beginning. As you sow, so shall you reap.

11 Do not let the slanderer be established in the land; let evil speedily hunt down the violent!

12 I know that the LORD maintains the cause of the needy, and executes justice for the poor.

13 Surely the righteous shall give thanks to your name; the upright shall live in your presence.

 

PSALM 141

Background. An individual lament. This poet is acutely conscious of his moral connection to Yahweh and is aware of his own proclivities to selfishness; he believes. Like the psalmist of 139, that Yahweh presides over his conscience and his behavior and enlists his help to avoid abandoning the right path. He clearly conflates the work of evildoers with seduction. Evil is not only what is done against him, but is also the trap designed to lure him into living selfishly.

Reflection. The ardent commitment to following LIFE’s way is the mark of someone on the path to transformation. Those who have truly made that choice know exactly how precarious it is, as the pressures coming from the conatus are at times overwhelming. Not only does our “self” urge us to “get whatever we can for ourselves,” but it suspects all others are doing the same thing and convinces us to mistrust them. But the reverse is also true: treat others with trust and generosity and the conatus, ours and theirs together, will get confused, begin to doubt its clarity, waiver and weaken. Ardent commitment alone will support the sustained practices necessary to undermine the reign of selfishness. It is no surprise that we may feel weak in the knees when confronted with this “Goliath” of a conatus. No wonder we are inclined to look for help. But it is LIFE itself that burns with the desire for more LIFE. LIFE, the LIFE that enlivens us and that we ourselves mange and direct, will not allow a mindless conatus to take its energies and harness them to the empty demands of an evanescent “ego” seeking to make itself a “god.” Once caught in the trap ― individual or collective ― LIFE seeks liberation. Once liberated, LIFE seeks to liberate all. LIFE is all there is. The rest is all mirage.

1 I call upon you, O LORD; come quickly to me; give ear to my voice when I call to you.

2 Let my prayer be counted as incense before you, and the lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice.

3 Set a guard over my mouth, O LORD; keep watch over the door of my lips.

4 Do not turn my heart to any evil, to busy myself with wicked deeds in company with those who work iniquity; do not let me eat of their delicacies.

5 Let the righteous strike me; let the faithful correct me. Never let the oil of the wicked anoint my head, for my prayer is continually against their wicked deeds.

6 When they are given over to those who shall condemn them, then they shall learn that my words were pleasant.

7 Like a rock that one breaks apart and shatters on the land, so shall their bones be strewn at the mouth of Sheol.

LIFE has the power to shatter the chains that bind us to a selfish and wasted existence. The false ego, generated by the mindless conatus’ imaginary goals for achieving immortality, is really no match for the self that is enlivened and empowered by LIFE itself.

8 But my eyes are turned toward you, O GOD, my Lord; in you I seek refuge; do not leave me defenseless.

9 Keep me from the trap that they have laid for me, and from the snares of evildoers.

10 Let the wicked fall into their own nets, while I alone escape.

 

PSALM 142

Background. Another individual lament. The poet calls on Yahweh for help against enemies for he has “no one who cares.” Yahweh is his “portion;” as in psalm 15, Yahweh is his inheritance, he has nothing else. What seems to make him poor actually is the source of great bounty.

Reflection. This psalm is easily transposed into a metaphor. The enemies, as always, are the enemies of LIFE. It is LIFE, whose ways are the poet’s guarantee of health, strength and prosperity, that he clings to. Of course, the selfishness that is the enemy of LIFE is not only my selfishness. Others also can succumb to the false enticements of the self-aggrandizing ego, and when they do, that array is daunting. Hedged in by enemies, you can feel like you’re in prison. LIFE liberates, first by calling on the oppressed to assert their own embrace of LIFE, then by calling on the LIFE that enlivens the enemies themselves to awaken.

1 With my voice I cry to the LORD; with my voice I make supplication to the LORD.

2 I pour out my complaint before him; I tell my trouble before him. When my spirit is faint, you know my way. In the path where I walk they have hidden a trap for me.

4 Look on my right hand and see — there is no one who takes notice of me; no refuge remains to me; no one cares for me.

5 I cry to you, O LORD; I say, “You are my refuge, my portion in the land of the living.”

“My portion” ― a deeply moving image. It applies with literal ferocity to the emergent forms pf living matter, which we are. We are nothing else than living matter. LIFE is our portion. There is nothing else to “get.” LIFE, matter’s living, existential energy, is all there is. It is our portion, our inheritance, because we are the direct offspring, the legitimate descendants of LIFE.

6 Give heed to my cry, for I am brought very low. Save me from my persecutors, for they are too strong for me.

7 Bring me out of prison, so that I may give thanks to your name. The righteous will surround me, for you will deal bountifully with me.

Buddhist “non-duality”

“Non-duality” is a key notion of later Buddhism associated with the developments introduced by Nagarjuna in the second century of the common era. It is a companion concept to emptiness and is central to the Mahayana worldview.

These concepts are about as philosophical in the western sense that Buddhism ever gets. They are the attempt to ground the Buddhist emphasis on the impermanence of all reality in something objective. They are the elaboration of the notion of “dependent co-arising” which is so central to the Buddhist vision.

Buddhist practice concentrates on the mirage-like quality of the phenomena of experience as the source and wellspring of detachment. The craving that creates so much suffering and injustice for humankind is the result of attachment. This clinging to things ― pleasures, possessions, power ― thought to enhance and solidify one’s grip on life, is a chimera. Everyone’s experience confirms it. Chasing those things is like chasing the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. When you get there, it disappears. You find that your desired happiness, ascendancy and solidity slips like water through your fingers. Part of maturing into adulthood is the appreciation of the ephemeral nature of all such goals, and balanced adults, psychologically successful and secure, are always aware of the reality of what they are pursuing. Detachment is a natural response to the experience of impermanence.

The Buddha made the empirical discovery that detachment is the key to the elimination of suffering because it provided two correctives to the maladjustments characteristic of immaturity. One, it gave the mind the serenity to gauge benefits and judge clearly what pursuits were worth any human effort at all, thus making it possible to avoid disappointments in advance; and two, it prepared the emotions for the predictable let-down when those disappointments occurred. He also saw that poor judgments and disappointments not only attended the grosser objects of human desire, like pleasure, possessions and power, but were equally present when more refined goals were on the table, like virtues, humility, generosity, compassion … yes and even detachment itself. He quickly came to the conclusion that detachment was universally applicable because everything was equally impermanent.

Enter “science”

Such a universal declaration was intellectually pretentious on the face of it. The Buddha never went any further, philosophically, than to declare it the fruit of his experience and asked his followers to confirm it in their own experience. Thus it stood for many centuries as a universally agreed upon principle of Buddhist practice because it worked. But in the second century of the common era a Mahayana Buddhist philosopher by the name of Nagarjuna tried to give this universally acknowledged experience a scientific basis. He wrote a treatise called “The Essential Wisdom of the Middle Way” in which he systematically attempted to examine all classes of human experience and prove that they were empty of their own reality, impermanent, and the proper object of human detachment.

The fundamental vision that grounds emptiness is based on what the Buddhists call “dependent co-arising” which means that everything that exists ― both that it exists, and the way that it exists ― is not self subsistent. It is rather the effect of a plethora of causes in space and time that ultimately reach to the very edges of the cosmos and cosmic history. It is this effort to define the existence of anything, a “thing” or any of its characteristics, as the effect of other things and forces beyond the “thing” or ability in question, that constitutes emptiness. All things arise into existence in dependence upon the arising of other things into existence.

Commentators use simple examples to illustrate the phenomenon. Take a rose. When you look at a rose what you are looking at is the net result of a network of causes ― the seed that became the rose bush, the soil and its many and balanced nutritional chemicals, water in the proper amount and at the proper acidity, carbon dioxide in the atmosphere which the rose bush absorbed and converted into oxygen in the process of photosynthesis, etc. Each of those causes were themselves dependent upon other causes for their own arising into existence. Hence the carbon dioxide came from multiple sources like volcanic eruptions, the decay of organic matter, animal respiration; plant nutrients were released by the breakdown of rock into soil caused by various kinds of erosion; water formed from available oxygen and hydrogen gelled out of the gasses of the supernova that preceded the formation of our solar system … etc., etc. You get the idea.

Meditate long and be singularly focused on that aspect of our experience and it will shortly occur to you that when you think you are looking at a rose, you are really looking at all that went into it. That “all” is not hyperbole. It is literally real. Seen from the point of view of its “causes” the rose represents the combined effect of every thing and every event in the universe going all the way back to the big bang … none of which is a “rose.

So the “rose” is really not a rose. It is empty of its “self.” But that’s not just true of the rose. It is true of all things, forces, events ― all phenomena of whatever kind ― that occur in our universe.

Now this may seem outlandish. Of course a rose is the result of the entire chain of causes that are responsible for everything, but, you will insist, it is still a rose. The Buddhists respond, indeed, but for how long? The clearest indication that we are dealing with something that is not substantially itself is that it withers and disappears in short order.   This is characteristic of all things, including the human organism. We are here for exactly as long as the network of causes that generate our being-here exists. Our being-here is not dependent on ourselves or on some singular source that lives in another world, but precisely on that identifiable network of things and events other than ourselves which comprise the totality of our world. As those supports collapse because their own network of causes no longer produces them, they disappear, and with their disappearance so do we. Outlandish as it may seem and outrageous as it may feel, we are ultimately nothing more (or less) than the congealed effervescence of matter’s living, existential energy here and observable only while its transitory material causes continue to be operative.

We may not like it, but we are the way we are because we are matter, and that’s the way matter behaves. If we appreciate being-here we have to accept the sine qua non conditions of matter’s being here, because we are THAT.

The totality = non-duality

This awareness that all things are intimately linked by a chain of causes that extends to the very boundaries of our cosmos in space and in time changes the focus of what it means to be-here. There is no individual thing that is here by itself. It is here and has the character it does because everything else that goes into its being-here is-here. There is no way to define or identify any single thing without identifying and defining everything else.

So the fact that I spontaneously think of myself as an individual is an error, not just a partial truth, but a seriously defective falsehood because there is no aspect of any form or feature characteristic of me that is-here on its own. All of me ― body, mind, feelings, intentions ― is dependent on actively functioning factors that are other than me. So that at no point is there any duality with anything for there is nothing that can be called “not-me” and there is nothing I can look at and say that I am “not that” or claim that some part of me is “only me.”

So the Buddhist doctrine of “non-duality” is the flip-side of their identifying the real reality of the universe with the totality. They come at it from the point of view of their notion of “causality.” Everything is part of a totality because its existence and functioning is dependent upon the existence and functioning of other things … eventually, all other things. My “being-here” is dependent on my “causes.” Therefore my being-here does not exist apart from my causes. I and my causes are one being-here.

From my point of view, the Buddhist vision is corroborated by modern science which identifies the same homogeneous material energy as the fundamental component of all things that exist in our cosmos. Non-duality obtains in this view because nothing can claim to be made of anything other than what everything else is made of. We are all part of a totality of things which is comprised of the same material, and here on our planet most things even share their various elements in the same proportions, making us one identifiable family within the totality.

I think it is important to point out that the “reasons” the Buddhists give for “non-duality” are not exactly the same as what I would adduce from modern science. Regardless, it seems that the experience of oneness with all things which is a constant feature of all forms of mysticism ― Christian, Hindu, Judaic, Buddhist, Islamic ― is claimed by all traditions to have an objective “scientific” basis, and I contend that modern science agrees. Looked at from the point of view of the physical, chemical, biological constituents of all things we are all one thing: matter’s existential energy, living, evolving, dissolving.

“Non-duality” is the reason why the Hindus say “Thou are THAT.” We are all the subsets of the same reality. Were we to take that seriously, our behavior would change to the point of being unrecognizable. Right now, what we do to our bodies and to others’, human and non-human, is a function of a non-existent distinction that we insist on maintaining between us and “other” things.

 

 

 

 

 

Jesus and Buddha (2)

As the last post (Aug 22, Reflections on Jesus and Buddha) indicated, I believe the principal difference between Jesus and Buddha is not in their moral vision but in the relational and motivational context that gave a their recommended behavior a special character. Jesus lived in a hieratic, religious context where the world was believed to have been created and micro-man­aged by a personal “God.” For the Jews, the real reality ― what gave substance and direction to human life ― was the “contract,” the relationship to “God.” The moral law may have been updated by Jesus’ insights, but the relationship was the same.

The Buddha, on the other hand, had an unmistakably skeptical attitude toward the gods and anything that smacked of forces originating in another world that were believed to neutralize or reverse awareness of our impermanent condition. While he never denied the existence of the gods, he considered all such beliefs to be distractions that militated against the detachment required to end selfish craving and the suffering it entailed. It was the realization that all things were empty of permanent existence that spurred the necessary detachment.

Buddha denied the possibility of achieving permanence through any activity whatsoever and saw its pursuit as a myth. Mindless striving after the impossible not only created frustration and suffering, but also generated an untold amount of injustice as individuals stampeded over one another in the effort to acquire the symbols of the permanent possession of life: wealth, status, power, pleasure.

Basing myself on modern science, I attribute Buddhism’s perception of radical impermanence to the fact that existence is material. Matter is subject to the second law of thermodynamics as expressed in entropy. The discrete quanta of energy that constitute matter come together in an evolving process of integration and complexification and then come apart in the dissipation and dissolution that accompanies the return to equilibrium. We experience it on the biological level as birth and death.

That proposition, however, goes a step beyond Buddha’s message. Buddha avoided all physical/metaphy­si­cal speculation about the nature of reality and confined himself to a description of how it behaved. Reality ― all of it, including the human organism ― displayed a radical impermanence. No formation of whatever kind, no matter how well constructed and protected against change, was self-subsistent, and none endured. All things were in a constant state of flux ― coming together and coming apart dependent on a myriad of factors other than themselves ― and given the craving of the human organism for permanent existence, this impermanence was the source of all our suffering and the wellspring of our competitive injustice and self-destructive addictions.

Eschewing any reference to the gods or other forces not of this world, Buddha could confront the problem directly and undistracted. On the one hand there was the human conatus that is an instinctive irrepressible organic drive to continue to be-here bred into every biological organism by evolution, and on the other, there was a universal process whereby all composites dissolved back into their components in the inevitable return to equilibrium. This process included the human body and stood in direct contradiction to its own innate desires, hard-wired by evolution. Every last bit of it came and went like the morning mist.

This made reality, for humankind, an intrinsic dilemma … and insuperable. The human organism could not deny or disregard its desire for permanent life without becoming suicidal or at least self-destructive in some way. And the material universe ― which paradoxically included the human organism itself with all its drives ― did not have the wherewithal to provide what that desire wanted. It was a total impasse.

That meant life, for the Buddha, was absurd. He had no trouble saying that. He said existence was “empty” and called it a “mirage.” Life was a scam, a delusion. He called for endless compassion for all the biological organisms (“sentient beings”) who were caught in this trap. If you are to end suffering, you have to first acknowledge and confront the delusion. Then you must transcend it. Your motivation is to end your suffering. You begin by loving yourself and your people. Then you can look clear-eyed at what has to be done. If you have any relationship in all this, it is to yourself.

Jesus, it must be said at this point, had no such liberty. Like the Buddha, Jesus saw what had to be done if people were to live in peace and with justice, but he was locked into a world­view inherited from his Jewish forebears. For Jesus, this same material universe that the Buddha looked at with a cold and cynical eye, was the gift of a loving father. Given Jesus’ belief system, you could not look at reality with the same detachment and disdain as the Buddha. For Jesus, all things were good. They were not an empty mirage. Life was not a scam. This life was supposed to be a paradise. It was our sins ― our lack of trust in God and the selfishness that resulted from it ― that cast us out of paradise, nothing else; that was the meaning of the Genesis myth. The cravings that the Buddha saw as the enemies of personal control and inner peace, for Jesus were the generous gift of a benevolent creator, who also created the object of that craving. The discipline required was for their proper use, not for their disposal as trash.

The relationship to God determined everything. Notice how this changes the picture. For the Jews both the craving and its object are good. The only condition was that they were to be pursued in accordance with the will of the “person” who made them, who established their “purpose,” and who gave them to humankind as gifts. The Jewish universe was centered on “God.” Things were not as they appeared. Their appearances ― the impermanent phenomena of experience ― which seemed random, meaningless and uncaring for humankind, were in fact something entirely different. They were gifts from God. But their real permanent and loving reality could only be known by revelation ― know­ledge that came from another world.

For Jesus, the modification in behavior that this implied had to be understood as a command from “God” ― necessarily from another world ― no matter how gently and invitingly that command was issued. It made human behavior a matter for the God of that other world to decide and the import of human behavior was the effect it had on the relationship to “God” who lived in the other world.  Whereas with the Buddha, correct human behavior was determined by the Dharma ― our conscience reading the “law of nature” ― it was our guide to happiness because we were part of nature. But to comply with it was a free choice. We were encouraged by the Buddha to make that decision on one basis only: what is good for us … what will end our suffering … what will take us beyond sorrow … what will give us joy and guarantee peace in our communities. Living by the Dharma will make us happy; it is the relationship to ourselves and our communities that motivates our choice.

Polar opposites

I want to draw attention to the huge difference in these two dynamics. Even though both Buddha and Jesus are calling for the same moral responses, and in many cases, moral responses (like non-violence) that are similarly counter-intuitive to the customs of their times, they did not agree on the real significance of their teachings ― what those behavioral modifications meant for the relationships in which people found their primary identity and ultimate destiny. For Jesus your identity was grounded in God’s creative act and fatherly love, hence, morality was your loving obedience to God’s “law;” for the Buddha your identity was your self-possession and personal detachment: your hard-won emotional freedom grounded in your control over your mind and its imaginings sustained by your insight into the emptiness of all things, hence, morality was the practice of meditation and submission to the Dharma.

The difficulty that people encounter in trying to integrate these two religious perspectives does not have to do with moral response or ascetical practice. What appears on the surface as a “slam dunk” in terms of agreement on program, reveals itself to be a profound difference that I believe recapitulates the original human dilemma ― the desire for permanence in an impermanent universe. Each tradition has impaled itself on one of the two opposing horns of the dilemma. Let me explain what I mean.

Jesus’ Jewish perspective opts for a permanence that I consider imaginary. To him, the world was not the welter of ephemeral phenomena we see unfolding before our eyes, it is really the rock-solid unchanging eternal love of a creating “Father” that is invisible to unaided human sight. The traditional theist view of the world, mis-interpreting the exquisite interconnectedness of the physical world and attributing that order to a rational benevolent Creator “God”-person, projects a permanent ground that belies the impermanence and randomness obvious to experience and confirmed by modern science. That view collapses on the issue of divine providence.

Divine Providence means “God” has control over every detail of cosmic and human history. But a moment’s reflection reveals that catastrophes like the Nazi Holocaust and the Haitian earthquake that were responsible for an untold number of deaths of innocent people, in the latter case mostly children, could never have occurred if a rational benevolent “God”-person with the capacity to prevent these horrendous effects were actually watching over and guiding the affairs of humankind. No provident “Father” would ever have permitted such things to occur to his children. So either “God” doesn’t have the power to stop these events, or if “he” could but chooses not to for whatever reason, “he” is not rational and benevolent. Jesus’ loving all-powerful Father is not consistent with the world of human experience.

The Buddha, on the other hand, opted for an exclusive randomness and impermanence. His worldview, adjusted 400 years later by the Mahayana Reform at the turn of the common era, provided no objective grounds for the universal compassion he enjoined on his followers which became the Buddhist ideal. There was no loving father to imitate. There was no infinite eternal generosity that established the paradigm of the bodhisattva ― the ideal Buddhist who renounced the bliss of nirvana in order to struggle for the liberation of all. Compassion for the Buddha was completely self-grounded, an entirely subjective phenomenon. It was the product of his own personal outrage evoked by insight into the delusional nature of human suffering. Its only identified source was the trap created by the mirage of reality and his own personal sensibilities. That instinctive compassion of the Buddha was then transformed by the Mahayana Reform into an ontological ground for the future bodhisattvas who followed him. They imitated and were inspired by HIS compassion which was given divine status. But there was no basis for compassion in nature. The Buddha’s compassion sprang full blown and totally original from his person. The world was a fortuitous network of unrelated emptiness and impermanence; human empathy was a unique phenomenon.

The human being and the community of humankind were the only forces in the universe capable of compassion … and compassion stemmed from empathy: i.e., the ability to see that others’ sufferings are the same as one’s own. The result of this emphasis of the Buddha is the ironic focus on the self as the exclusive source and ground of all morality, social justice, liberation and growth in generosity. The paradox is that the supposed linchpin of the Buddha’s spiritual program is anatman ― his claim that the self is an illusion ― a mirage, like everything else that we experience. Empathy itself is impermanent. This is an anomaly of the Buddha’s vision as glaring and inexplicable as Jesus’ insistence on the hovering protection of a loving “Father” who did nothing to prevent his torture and assassination by the Roman thugs. How can the “self” that supposedly does not exist, the “self” whose insane cravings for a non-existent permanence are the source of all human suffering, now be called upon to ground, pursue and sustain the entire Buddhist program of personal transformation into selfless generosity?

Coming at it from the opposite (objective) side of the question: how can the abundance and compulsive expansiveness of life, resulting in this vast intricate, complex and interconnected network we know as our world, arise in a universe of discrete, radically unconnected particles and forces? And why has the conatus ― the instinct for permanence ― evolved as the principal innate drive in all animal life, not just human?   The Buddha does not address these issues.  His interest was not speculative; it was stone practical. He wanted to end human suffering. Having discovered the causes of suffering and how to conquer them in himself, he felt driven to share his discoveries with all who would listen. But the lacunae left by his disregard for physics/metaphysics leaves the rest of us frustrated. We might know “how,” but we are left wondering “why?” Buddhists may answer, “we don’t need to know why.” But it’s a question that springs from the very core of what we are, and we ‘suffer’ until we have an answer.

This line of questioning can also be put to Jesus from the point of view of his principal insight: the permanence and solidity of the love of a Father “God.” How can belief in such a “God” correlate with the utter mayhem in natural events and human social affairs that causes so much human suffering and destruction? The belief in divine providence and the miraculous interventions that such a belief implies, are patently incredible. How can you square your “faith” with reality? There are, in fact, no miracles. There is no intervention of “God” in human history or in the processes of the natural world. Belief in providence is an illusion that ends up baptizing whatever actually happens as the “will of God.” In this form it confers divine approbation on the status quo and glorifies the rich and powerful.

The Christian religion, whose ritual program can be characterized as begging this provident miracle-working “God” for divine interventions ― to win wars, to punish enemies, to be restored to health, to achieve success, to have adequate rainfall and good harvests ― is being abandoned by myriads of people who have become aware of its incredibility. There are no miracles, and to ask for them borders on insanity.

The turn to Buddhism on the part of many people in the west represents the recognition that, whatever its failures in identifying the ultimate constituents of reality, Buddha’s vision faithfully describes the real world and our interactions with it; it is preferable to the Christian fantasy of a humanoid “God” whose providence is a joke. Buddhism brackets “God,” and provides a practical program of self-develop­ment that is completely consistent with both experience and modern science. And, while Buddhism may not offer a scientific or metaphysical ground for the compassion and generosity it promotes, it acknowledges that these aspirations are universally human and offers a concrete path for achieving them.

The “Religions of the Book,” Judaism, Islam and Christianity, however, will continue to claim that the source of the spontaneous compassion that wells up in the human heart is a loving and protective Father, the compassionate heart of the universe. That means they will always have the anomaly that theodicy was created to resolve: how can a provident all-powerful and “compassionate” God design and sustain a universe where an innate human conatus that seeks eternal permanence must search for it among random events where no permanence of any kind is possible … resulting in universal personal suffering and widespread social injustice?

My answer is: it can’t. Unless you are willing to ignore your own rationality altogether, there is no way to reconcile the traditional Western image of “God” with the reality of the world as we know it. They simply do not compute. So either “God” is something so different from our traditional imaginings that the word “provident” no longer applies, or there simply is no “God” at all.

LIFE

I opt for a different “God.” I believe there is a way to resolve the anomalies of the messages of both Jesus and Buddha and simultaneously reconcile them to one another. And that is to understand that the material energy ― the being-here ― of which our universe is constructed is a non-personal, non-rational LIFE that is characterized by an effusive expansiveness which through the transcendent creativity of evolution has emerged in the form of the generous, compassionate human biological organism that is totally identified with being-here. In concrete terms, that means my “self.” My conatus, like the conatus of all biological organisms, is the primal expression of that identity for me. All things are simply evolved forms of material LIFE and are the expressions of its existential self-embrace; they cannot even imagine not being-here. The “desire for immortality” is a secondary, rationally elaborated proposition derived from the subsequent realization that life ends in death. It is specifically human. Animals do not have such a wish because it never occurs to them that life will ever end, and until we are reminded of it, neither do we. The conatus is pure drive, not thought; but it can be reconfigured by thought.  

Understanding “God” as LIFE ― matter’s living, existential energy ― brings together the visions of Jesus and Buddha. The relationship to “God” and the relationship to my “self” are now no longer two different things. They are seen to be one and the same thing.

This material LIFE, of which we are an emergent form, is what Jesus’ tradition had been calling “God” whose will was the Torah, and what the Buddha saw expressed in the Dharma. It is not a person; it is not rational; it has no purposes or intentions in our sense of those words; it does not design or manage the forms and events of the universe. It is not an entity apart from the material entities it composes and enlivens. It is the living super-abundant and self-sharing ENERGY that constitutes everything in our universe, making it a process with an unmistakable direction: toward more LIFE. This LIFE is on display in an infinity of forms corresponding to the level of complexification achieved by evolution. And one of its forms ― the one most accessible to my observation ― is my own biological organism, my “self.” If I want to discover what LIFE is, I have to plumb my own depths.

This “solution” provides Buddha with the solid ground that supports his program of compassion and compliance with the Dharma, and it provides Jesus with the reason why “God” lets the sun shine and the rain fall equally on the just and the unjust. It gives the Buddha the reason for the “permanent” features of his vision, like compassion and embrace of the Dharma, and it explains why Jesus mistakenly thought that an uncaring “God” had forsaken him on the cross.