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February 2008
Saturday, February 9, 2008
the name of God is not the name of some sort of divine sensorium (censorius? preventorium?), not some infinitely preemptive precontainer or all-encompassing necessity, but rather the name of the impossible, of novelty, of the coming of the Other, of the tout autre, of what is coming with the shock of an absolute surprise, with the trauma of absolute heterogeneity. — John D. Caputo, The Prayers and Tears of Jacques Derrida
In post-modern society, the moral gods are dead if not dying; being beyond our power to resurrect them. In other words, we simply don’t care about a moral god these days. Any any rate, this god is bereft of a sense of justice. All have seen enough of this god’s absurd justice. For Nietzsche, this is the god who dies, namely, the god who created both good and evil (Isaiah 45:7).
The new god that will take his place, if we may put it this way, is in Nietzsche’s words “the European form of Buddhism” being “the most scientific of all hypotheses.”
This new god, however, has an active presence of which we know nothing. It is Tathagata, i.e., the work of Thatness. In us, we sense it as great doubt to use an expression from Zen. Such doubt is like twilight. There is a growing lack of confidence in our world from having lost the old gods while, at the same time, there is a counter-illumination waiting to reveal itself when we have completely come to our wit’s end; being unable to find our way in the seeming darkness and despair that engulfs us as our confidence wanes. When Mother Teresa said: “I am told God loves me, and yet the reality of the darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul” she entered into the twilight world of the new god.
The sensation of great doubt also compels us to make ourselves available to the coming of a transcendent novelty so strange as to invite a kind of inner terror that continually seizes us which we can only settle by our resolve and courage to let this growing doubt engulf us; if not guide us along a new path until we reach satori.
Every mystic has followed this new god after stepping over the corpse of the old god. Indeed, gods who create good and evil, are troublesome gods. They are of no consolation. And without the prayers of their devotees, how can they not die from lack of spirit? And isn't this age the most spiritless?
Before Buddhism makes itself fully present in the European mind, even the word “God” must die or at least become a laughingstock. There is no place in the new faith for such names. Suchness, pure Mind, or even mind stuff (caitta) are more scientific. They point beyond, to an animative power that enlivens our bodies which is utterly invisible and immaterial. It works our limbs now. But we are blind to it. We cannot see it because we are overly addicted to the presence of objectivity, that is, to the image of an animated corpse that we claim to be ours. This is the legacy, by the way, of the dead god.
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A new god
the name of God is not the name of some sort of divine sensorium (censorius? preventorium?), not some infinitely preemptive precontainer or all-encompassing necessity, but rather the name of the impossible, of novelty, of the coming of the Other, of the tout autre, of what is coming with the shock of an absolute surprise, with the trauma of absolute heterogeneity. — John D. Caputo, The Prayers and Tears of Jacques Derrida
In post-modern society, the moral gods are dead if not dying; being beyond our power to resurrect them. In other words, we simply don’t care about a moral god these days. Any any rate, this god is bereft of a sense of justice. All have seen enough of this god’s absurd justice. For Nietzsche, this is the god who dies, namely, the god who created both good and evil (Isaiah 45:7).
The new god that will take his place, if we may put it this way, is in Nietzsche’s words “the European form of Buddhism” being “the most scientific of all hypotheses.”
This new god, however, has an active presence of which we know nothing. It is Tathagata, i.e., the work of Thatness. In us, we sense it as great doubt to use an expression from Zen. Such doubt is like twilight. There is a growing lack of confidence in our world from having lost the old gods while, at the same time, there is a counter-illumination waiting to reveal itself when we have completely come to our wit’s end; being unable to find our way in the seeming darkness and despair that engulfs us as our confidence wanes. When Mother Teresa said: “I am told God loves me, and yet the reality of the darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul” she entered into the twilight world of the new god.
The sensation of great doubt also compels us to make ourselves available to the coming of a transcendent novelty so strange as to invite a kind of inner terror that continually seizes us which we can only settle by our resolve and courage to let this growing doubt engulf us; if not guide us along a new path until we reach satori.
Every mystic has followed this new god after stepping over the corpse of the old god. Indeed, gods who create good and evil, are troublesome gods. They are of no consolation. And without the prayers of their devotees, how can they not die from lack of spirit? And isn't this age the most spiritless?
Before Buddhism makes itself fully present in the European mind, even the word “God” must die or at least become a laughingstock. There is no place in the new faith for such names. Suchness, pure Mind, or even mind stuff (caitta) are more scientific. They point beyond, to an animative power that enlivens our bodies which is utterly invisible and immaterial. It works our limbs now. But we are blind to it. We cannot see it because we are overly addicted to the presence of objectivity, that is, to the image of an animated corpse that we claim to be ours. This is the legacy, by the way, of the dead god.
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This entry has 2 comments: (Add your own)
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What a shame that so few have left a comment on your keen insights.
I rarely run into someone who can put into words what I have found to be true.
As I was driving around town today (that is when I engage in most of my inner philosophical discussions) I was speculating on how strange the word "God" (big G) is to begin with. Beyond being "the name of the impossible, of novelty, of the coming of the Other, of the tout autre, of what is coming with the shock of an absolute surprise" I would say that the word itself makes no sense at all. In fact, I have never found anyone, including the dictionary to shed any light as to what it actually means in any sort of practical way.
Here is a typical discussion on defining the word God with people who profess to know God.
What is God?
- The Creator of the Universe
A creator is a person or entity for which there would be evidence of existence. As a myth this is a good answer but it has no practical use. Can you give me something more specific- like a real definition?
-God is Love
Love is a feeling so I suppose that by this definition then God must be this feeling that humans get. I am ok with this definition of God. But then why use the word God- why not just use the word love? What I am told at this point is that God is not just a feeling.
Then could you be a little more specific and give me a definition that makes sense?
God is the energy of the Universe.
Well I understand energy and it is certainly universal. But again - why call it God? Doesn't the word energy make more sense? When I turn on my microwave it makes a lot more sense to say that energy is cooking my meal than to say "God is cooking my meal." or "Love is cooking my meal."
No- you don't understand. God is more than energy. He is consciousness itself.
I am conscious so does that make me God?
The bott
3/21/08 2:48 AM
Thatness can not be explained or spoken about and it is in this "active presence" that all of the writings about God come into sudden focus. One can see the underlying truth through all the muddled explanations where no explanation was ever intended to raise it's deceptive head.
I would venture to say that there is no satori to reach. We are already there. The tendency to "reach" is yet another inner deception. There is nothing to reach for. We are already here and present in thatness. Sure there is no upward path of understanding we must travel as we become present and then forget. It is really more a matter of ceasing to reach or strive or be anything other than right here in the moment- whatever that may be.
Best to you zenist. Thank you for your journal. Nice stuff on the politics too!
Chip