With Great Slack Comes a Little Courtesy

"Do you renounce Satan, and all his works and empty promises?"

Sure... I guess so... Er, like what?

In other words, that's a three-part question. Anyone can renounce Satan, but who is he, what does he do, and what does he promise? And why is he even here?  

Let's find out! And try not to sound totally kooky along the way -- a way that will no doubt be nonlinear, because no post is ever thought out beforehand, so it's a wonder they ever cohere. 

Remember the Coon Promise: every post is freshly half-baked each morning, and primarily for my own consumption. If you find the blog interesting, it is partly because neither you nor I know where the next sentence is coming from and where it might go. 

Moreover, you probably have to deal with the nuisance of time, whereas I am privileged to roll around timelessness all day. I have nothing to do and nowhere to go, so for me everywhere is here and it's always now. 

Which may sound easy or difficult, depending on your personality style, but in any event, I've been training for this my whole life, so it suits me to the goround. Nor have I ever claimed to be normal, so don't even go there. 

Yesterday I was reflecting on something Schuon says about the legitimate need for esoterism. Not to say everyone needs it. 

Indeed, I've been known to envy the person who doesn't. I've heard people insist that the Bible is a total program for knowledge and action, an unambiguous blueprint for life, with nary a single contradiction or conundrum. I used to argue with them. 

Nevertheless, if you're the sort of irritating noodge who likes to think through every entailment right up to its necessary principle.... well, loose ends, contradictions, absurdities, trapdoors and exploding cigars are everywhere. 

And not just in religion. Rather, in science for sure. Which was the point I was cogitating. Let me first cite the relevant passage by Schuon. 

Obviously, in order to follow a religion in good faith -- without fooling oneself, AKA autopullwoolery -- one must be able to believe it. BUT

since, with the best will in the world, one can only believe what is credible, the man who knows to a sufficient degree two or more religions, and in addition has some imagination, may feel himself prevented from adhering to one of them by the fact that it presents itself dogmatically as the only legitimate and the only saving religion...

You know the type: believe this or you go to hell. But what if, no matter how hard you try, you honestly find it unbelievable? What are you supposed to do? Just pretend? You can't fool God.  

This Believe or else! is not what the Church has ever officially taught. Rather, it's a gift from God, not a threat, much less a protection racket. 

We're all familiar with St. Augustine's gag that The same thing which is now called Christian religion existed among the ancients, in various symbolic, mythic, virtual, and anticipatory forms. The Church itself "rejects nothing of what is true and holy" in other religions.

Follow the Light and assimilate the truth, and you can't go wrong. 

Back to the main point: "In fact, sapiential esoterism -- total and universal, not formalistic -- can alone satisfy every legitimate mental need" (Schuon, emphasis mine). 

And when he says "every," this again applies to science no less than religion. It is the best explanation for the whole existentialada. 

But again, it's not for everyone, nor could it ever -- God forbid -- appeal to more than an encentric Coonatic fringe, for it only speaks to those to whom it speaks, and not to anyone else. Rather, it just triggers the others, especially those who cannot leave it alone. "Spiritual masochism" comes to mind, pervert.

The point is, integral esoterism puts us in contact with the formless essence which religion clothes in doctrinal form. Indeed, the Catechism quietly expresses something similar in a different way when it says "We do not believe in formulas but in those realities they express" (emphasis mine). 

In other words, -- just as with science -- reality comes first, thoughts and words second; moreover, our thoughts, words, and dogmas terminate in the realities which they only symbolically describe. For exoterists it's often the other way around, but that's okay, especially if it keeps them out of trouble and ensures a good night's sleep.

So, just as science terminates in the real objects it describes, religious doctrines terminate in objective spiritual realities. With this in mind, it doesn't matter what you call it, so long as you acknowledge a category that is covered by the word "demonic."

I was thinking about this the other day with regard to the wild popularity of the new Spiderman movie. Why are people raving about it? I think partly because it openly deals with certain facts and realities that our secularized society tries to forget -- for example, that life is a struggle between good and evil, that parallel universes are so close they can touch us, and certainly that with great power comes great responsibility.

I could go on all day, but I have to have some respect for the timebound reader. With great slack comes a little courtesy to the reader who has only so much.