With the elucidation of our first four Cosmotheandric Certitudes we reach a literal crossroads in our narrative, for this is where Horizontal Circle is crossed by Vertical Boulevard. The latter leads necessarily to our Theos Principle, for the road didn’t pave itself. We would prefer to save this type of perfect nonsense for Book III, but for cosmotheandrism our three terms are always entangled, such that it is impossible to speak of one without at least implying the others.
To review our situation: cosmic evolution arrives finally at the Anthropos capable of weaving the Cosmic Area Rug that unites all the vertical degrees of being between immanence and transcendence. And if last in execution is first intention, then the Anthropos may be temporally late but ontologically right on time, for we are the perfect candidate to be the image and likeness of the Theos: we alone potentially span everything from origins to destiny, Alpha to Omega, primordial soup to new age nuts.
That Cosmos and Anthropos require a Theos will suit religious believers just fine. However, the same folks will generally be uncomfortable with the corollary — that so too is Theos without Cosmos and Anthropos unthinkable, for which reason we will have a lot of explaining to do in Book III. Nevertheless, Panikkar says frankly that “a God without the World is not a real God, nor does he exist.”
Objection!
On what grounds?
Everyone knows that we have real relations with God, but not vice versa. Supposing God lacks anything, that’s not God.
I get it, but this book is entirely superfluous if it only tells us what everybody else already knows. Cosmotheandrism may be wrong, but if so, we insist on it being uniquely wrong.
For Panikkar, “a purely immaterial being is as much an abstraction as an exclusively material one.” We can posit such a cipherous being, but “this ‘God’ does not exist because the actual God, the God that in fact exists, is God with creatures,” so it is the difference between a total abstraction and concrete reality. In other words, “A God with no cosmological and therefore no cosmogonic functions would not be God at all, but a mere phantom.”
No Cosmos without Anthropos is easy enough to grasp, even if one ultimately rejects it — for example, the strong anthropic principle that effectively claims the Cosmos must have those properties which allow for the emergence of the Anthropos at some stage in its development. As we have already explained, the Anthropos is ordered to the Cosmos because the Cosmos is first ordered to the Anthropos. We know this because the Cosmos is infinitely intelligible to the intellect, which is what Einstein found so marvelously puzzling — that the most incomprehensible thing about the Cosmos is its comprehensibility. But the comprehensibility is only incomprehensible if we begin with a metaphysic that renders it so. Conversely, with our fifth certitude, cosmotheandrism transforms incomprehensibility into inevitability.
∞
Our fifth certitude is going to sound like a bit of a leap, so it will require further justification in Book III. But for Livi, all our cosmic and anthropic clues lead back or up to “a transcendent Foundation to all known reality: cosmic reality, subjective reality, inter-subjective reality, moral reality.” This ultimate ground can be articulated in diverse ways, but each more or less asserts that “at the origin of the existence of things and as the order that binds the world, myself, and others by physical and moral laws, there must be a creative and ordering Intelligence, which is also my Ultimate End and the Ultimate End of everything.” This is the Principle of principles from which all else flows.
That’s a tad peremptory. I’m not convinced.
Nor should you be. That’s the problem with proofs of God: they are insufficient to the one who needs them and superfluous to the one who doesn’t. You might say they are LH maps of properly RH territory, but if the LH earnestly prefers an atheistic map, then there’s not much we can do to convince the recalcitrant hemisphere to relinquish its grip on what amounts to a severely diminished view of reality.
For the purposes of Book II it is enough to acknowledge Certitudes 1 through 4, and we can hash out the existence and nature of the Theos later, in Book III. So for now, let’s stipulate that there are 1) intelligible things, 2) that are known to subjects, and that 3) intersubjective communication about these things and about ourselves is possible. Fourthly, there are rights and duties, or, in a word, a teleologically ordered freedom.
These constitute the minimum viable reality required to function as a proper human being, and without which we are cognitively strangled and spiritually sophicated. For if we deny #1, we are hit by the bus. If we deny #2, we aren’t there to deny it. If we deny #3, there’s no one with whom to share our denial, and we certainly shouldn’t be writing books to tell no one about it. And we deny #4, we have no freedom to know truth nor any responsibility to tell it. In such an absurd world, we might actually want to get hit by a bus.
No human can live in such a world. Or, as it concerns the Anthropos, it is a functionally impossible world.
∞
So, our Cosmotheandric certitudes may be reduced to five terms: things, self, others, freedom, and Foundation. Or, intelligibility, intelligence, intersubjectivity, responsibility, and Ground (this latter also being the Source, Principle, Absolute, O, etc.).
Now, precisely because of item #4, we are, ironically, free to reject items 1, 2, 3, and 5. In fact, the whole durn history of philosophy comes down to an a priori rejection of one or more of these principles.
Take #1, for example, the existence of things. A normal person takes this for granted, but not philosophers who begin with, say, the existence of doubt. They might point to the stick in water that appears bent, and generalize this to cast doubt on our perception of anything else.
Thus, we can never be sure if the thing we perceive is the thing as it is. There is nothing we cannot doubt, which led Descartes to conclude that the only indubitable thing is item #2, the I that is. Then, the things (#1) become a function of the self (#2), and we’re in a rabbit hole of subjectivism from which there is no escape. In other words, once I Am is divorced from It Is, there is no way to reunite them.
Besides, while Descartes thought he had arrived at the first principle, his principle actually assumes a number of other principles, for example, non-contradiction. For if it is true to say “I think, therefore I am,” then it is false to affirm its contrary. But even more broadly, he assumes the efficacy of intelligence to arrive at a first principle of reality, but what justification is there for this? Ultimately Descartes must posit the Theos who would not deceive us, so he brings in #5 in an ad hoc way.
It’s all in that little word “therefore.” Therefore implies a correct judgment, which is to say, a link between truth and being. For the essence of any judgment or truth claim is “it is.” If something isn’t, then it is not real or true.
In other words, a thing either is or it is not; every argument, philosophical or otherwise, ultimately reduces to whether or not something really exists and is therefore “really real.” But in order to render such a judgment, the things themselves must be really real before we judge them to be so. Again: things first, the self and its judgments second. Even “I am” cannot be true unless being first Is.
To ask if the world is real is not to understand what we are actually asking, because how otherwise could this be a real question? Obviously the question is real, as is the questioner, or else it is like saying, “Let’s be realistic. We really can’t know reality,” so it is merely substituting one reality for another. But how can a Cosmos that isn’t real have produced an intellect that is?
Although we start with the principle that Things Are, it doesn’t mean that the self that knows these things can be derived therefrom. For we couldn’t know them unless there were a real underlying unity between knower and known. We cannot know a thing about a thing that is fundamentally unconnected to us.
Morevery, only a rational being can be free, and yet, we wouldn’t be free if we weren’t free to be irrational or wrong. If we had no such freedom to be wrong, we would be like computers and not humans. But in any event, the very process of reasoning about things could never occur if it weren’t independent of the conditions imposed by matter.
As Garrigou-Lagrange reminds us, “the first operation of the intellect” — the operation we always do and cannot help doing — is “simple intellectual apprehension.” According to Thomas, “The gaze of our intellect is fixed first upon the natures of sensible things.... To understand is a kind reading into the interior.... For sense knowledge is occupied with sensible, exterior qualities, whereas intellective knowledge penetrates all the way to the essence of the thing” (emphasis mine).
Ultimately, “the object of the intellect is that which is,” AKA being. Sounds again like a modest claim, but to say that being both is, and is intelligible, is probably the most consequential thing one could ever say about the world, for the implications are literally inexhaustible.
Again, the question is, do things (#1) make sense? Or does sense (#2) make things? Sounds like a joke, but for Kantians what we call things are just consequences of our own psychic categories. But for common sense Cosmotheandrism, it is the things themselves that truly make sense, i.e., disclose their real natures to the intellect, not all at once, but in an ever-deepening discovery of their real properties. Otherwise the Cosmos is but a projection of our own neuropsychology.
But to even say reality is to affirm the existence of something distinct from our own perceptions, and will still be there when we look away. Nevertheless, reality is indeed optional, since we are free to reject it. Likewise, we can certainly reject our five certitudes, but then we are certifiably insane, in the sense that our Cosmic Area Rug falls apart completely.








