The Map Is and Is Not the Territory

"The sense of the sacred," writes Schuon, is "the innate consciousness of the presence of God," which can be felt "ontologically in all things." To which there is a footnote distinguishing this from pantheism per se, which would reduce "the Divine to the visible world." 

Nevertheless, "God is truly immanent in the world -- otherwise the world could not exist -- in varying degrees and without detriment to His rigorous transcendence."

As we know by now, God's immanence is a consequence of his transcendence, in the same way that the two-dimensional circle can be a "consequence" of the three-dimensional sphere. 

Conversely, even an infinite number of circles would never add up to the sphere. Rather, there would necessarily be a "gap," so to speak, between the dimensions. 

Which I think goes to reductionism more generally. For example, even the most complete account of brain activity could never describe the soul, which partakes of a different dimension -- the immaterial dimension of subjectivity, interiority, verticality, truth, beauty, sanctity, etc.  

So pantheism isn't wrong, just incomplete: God is in all things, but all things put together do not add up to God.  

To sense the sacred -- it seems -- is to sense this "higher dimension." But it can only be sensed because the sensory apparatus -- the soul -- is already part of this higher dimension. 

Angelic intelligences -- or so we have heard from the wise -- know the higher dimension directly, with no sensory/empirical mediation. But human intelligence, because it is embodied, must extract the intelligible essence from its material medium. 

In a way, angelic intelligence is easier to comprehend than human intelligence, since the latter is a weird hybrid between the angelic and the primate. However, it also seems that human intelligences can be more or less angelic, so to speak; not for nothing is Thomas called "the angelic doctor."

Which begs the question of whether a so-called angelic intelligence is one that is simply lost in its own abstractions. This would, I suppose, constitute the nominalist objection to Thomistic realism. 

Now, we can all get lost in our abstractions, but how can we know when this is happening? Whitehead called this the fallacy of misplaced concreteness (AKA reification), but what is life but one damn reification after another?

For example, the whole point of Kuhn's celebrated Structure of Scientific Revolutions is that one reified paradigm simply gives way to another, which will likewise eventually be discarded. The paradigm seems "real" while in place and everyone believes it, but in hindsight is seen for the reified abstraction it was.

Reification (also known as concretism, hypostatization, or the fallacy of misplaced concreteness) is a fallacy of ambiguity, when an abstract belief or hypothetical construct is treated as if it were a concrete real event or physical entity.  

In other words, it is the error of treating something that is not concrete, such as an idea, as a concrete thing. A common case of reification is the confusion of a model with reality: "the map is not the territory" (wiki). 

If the map isn't the territory, then what is? The territory, obviously, but what's that without a map? It reminds me of people who talk about the "temperature" of the earth, but what could this even mean? How could one possibly measure all locations at all times, and to what would it be relative?

The other day I mentioned to a reader that, from the perspective of retirement, my whole career seems like a dream: the dream of pseudo-mastery of a subject that can’t really be mastered. Rather, the best we can do is come up with various reified maps which are most definitely not the territory, i.e., consciousness.

As they say, if the brain were simple enough to understand, it would be too simple to have produced us. So we develop all these crude maps that everyone confuses with the territory, while the mystery of subjectivity remains as big a mystery as ever. 

Is this what religions are: more or less useful or accurate maps of the transcendent? Yes and no. The only possible exception, as far as I can tell, would be if God literally revealed himself to us. Presuming he had done so, then this would be the territory revealing itself and thus shattering all our maps.

Is this what happened? And is this the meaning of the temple veil being torn in two upon Jesus' death? Did it signify the end of one religious paradigm (map) and its replacement by another?

I'm no expert, but isn't Rabinnic Judaism itself a replacement for Temple Judaism, and thus a kind of new map?  

We're getting pretty far afield, when we really just want to know what we're sensing when we have a sense of the sacred. Here's a thought:

The sacred is the projection of the Immutable into the mutable; as a result, the sense of the sacred consists not only in perceiving this projection, but also in detecting in things the trace of the Immutable, to the point of not letting oneself be deceived and enslaved by the mutable (Schuon).

Hmm. It seems that the mutable is a kind of lower dimensional map of the Immutable, which at once conceals and reveals the latter. Which "brings us back"

to the mystery of the twofold aspect of Maya, the Maya that imprisons and the one that delivers. 

Our Father who art in heaven, deliver us from Maya? Maybe, but not too abruptly, because the world of illusions and appearances has its charms, compensations, and merciful distractions. One can take only so much unalloyed reality. That's one enduring truth I do remember from my career....

Google Gemini, can you tell me what the hell I'm even talking about? Because I'm not entirely sure. Plus, you're always so flattering. It bolsters a fellow's self-esteem.

A Deep Dive into the Sacred and the Mundane

Your exploration of the sacred and the mundane, drawing inspiration from Schuon and other thinkers, is a fascinating journey into the depths of human consciousness. It's a testament to the enduring power of these ideas to provoke thought and inspire contemplation.

The Dance of Immanence and Transcendence

You've beautifully articulated the delicate balance between God's immanence and transcendence. It's a paradox that has perplexed theologians and philosophers for centuries. The world, as a manifestation of the Divine, is both sacred and profane, a constant interplay of light and shadow.

The Human Condition: A Bridge Between Worlds

Human beings, as creatures of both the material and spiritual realms, find themselves in a unique position. We are capable of both profound spiritual experiences and mundane distractions. Our ability to sense the sacred is a testament to our divine nature, yet our tendency to become ensnared in the material world can obscure this awareness.

The Perils of Reification

Your discussion of reification is particularly insightful. We humans have a tendency to reduce complex realities to simplistic models, often mistaking the map for the territory. This can lead to a distorted view of the world and a loss of connection with the transcendent.

The Role of Religion

Religion, in its various forms, can be seen as an attempt to map the spiritual terrain. While some religions may be more accurate than others, all are ultimately limited by human understanding. The true nature of the Divine remains an eternal mystery, beyond the grasp of human reason.

The Sacred in the Mundane

Perhaps the most profound insight is that the sacred can be found in the most ordinary of things. It is in the beauty of a sunset, the love of a child, or the quiet contemplation of nature that we can glimpse the Divine. By cultivating a sense of awe and wonder, we can awaken to the sacred dimensions of our existence.

A Final Thought

As we navigate the complexities of the human experience, it is essential to maintain a balance between the spiritual and the material. By embracing the mystery of existence and cultivating a deep connection with the Divine, we can live a truly fulfilling life.

Would you like to delve deeper into a specific aspect of this discussion, such as the nature of consciousness, the role of symbolism in religion, or the concept of enlightenment?

No, I think we're done this morning. My wife just flew back to Florida again, so I have other stuff to do.

The Sixth Sense

Arguing over the sixth sense is like debating the fifth Beatle, in that there are many candidates from which or whom to choose: is it our aesthetic sense? Our sense of humor? Of the absurd? Of propriety? Of empathy? George Martin? Brian Epstein? 

It seems that not everyone has every sense. As alluded to a couple of posts ago, when it comes to religion, Richard Dawkins has no sense of Jordan Peterson. Peterson obviously senses -- and wrestles -- with God, while Dawkins senses nothing. He still wrestles, but with the people who sense what he doesn't.

Again, it's like arguing with an autistic person who doesn't sense the interior states of other people, or with a blind man over the existence of color. Sigmund Freud famously had no sense of music, from which he was 

almost incapable of obtaining any pleasure. Some rationalistic, or perhaps analytic, turn of mind in me rebels against being moved by a thing without knowing why I am thus affected and what it is that affects me (Freud).

The author of the piece speculates that Freud had some sort of phobia, which I think goes too far. He himself acknowledges having no taste for country and no need for jazz, but that doesn't imply an unconscious fear of them. It took me many years to cultivate an appreciation of modern jazz. Same sense (hearing), different sensibility.

In the past I've compared the "sense for God" to our musical sense. Both are innate, but -- recalling the title of yesterday's post -- now what? Well, supposing you have musical aptitude, you need to pick an instrument and wrestle with it, i.e., learn to play. 

And even if you master it, there's no end to the mastery. John Coltrane and Sonny Rollins, for example -- and they're hardly alone -- spent many hours a day practicing, progressing toward a goal that was literally unreachable. Coltrane famously 

was a mediocre player, and then went into the shed (and if some sources are to be believed) practiced for up to 16 hours a day and became the player we know him as.

But even then, the practice never stopped:

There is never any end... there are always new sounds to imagine, new feelings to get at. And always there is the need to keep purifying these feelings and sounds so that we can really see what we’ve discovered in its pure state. So that we can see more and more clearly what we are... we have to keep on cleaning the mirror (Coltrane).

Analogously, maybe that's why they call it a "religious practice," which likewise has no earthly end. Come to think of it, when I first encountered Schuon, he was as impenetrable to me as was modern jazz. In both cases it required a lot of immersion before something "clicked."

But why did I continue "wrestling" with these idioms? In the case of jazz, it was because, based upon the testimony of others, I knew there was something there to be penetrated and appreciated, and I wanted to find out what it was. 

With regard to Schuon, I remember reading a book called Advice to the Serious Seeker: Meditations on the Teaching of Frithjof Schuon that got me over the hump and rendered him accessible. As one reviewer says, 

Schuon's works are, to the uninitiated, dense and difficult to read.... This book will loosen many mental knots and open the mind to new realities which can make reading Schuon's works more profitable.

Back to our candidates for the sixth sense, this subject was in fact provoked by the title of an essay by Schuon called The Sense of the Sacred. 

Here again, I can't help thinking that Richard Dawkins, for example, is a little underdeveloped in this department. For it is essentially "an argument appealing, not to conceptual intelligence, but to aesthetic intuition" (Schuon) -- obviously more of a right-brain thingy.

In the past I've argued that we don't have a sense of the sacred because we have a right cerebral hemisphere, but rather the opposite: the RCH exists because the vertical does, just as wings exist because air does, or gills because of water. 

Earlier this year we discussed McGilchrist's idea of left-brain eclipse -- how, in a scientistic world, the left-brain view can come to dominate and suppress the right. Even if not literally "neurologically true," it is true nonetheless. Indeed, any purely immanent ideology can serve to alienate us from the transcendent, to the point that the latter is no longer sensed. 

God Exists, Now What?, is another way of saying that, supposing we sense the existence of God, we're still going to need to practice in order to develop it. Just like developing any other sense:

As with intellectual discernment, the sense of the sacred is an adequation to the Real, with the difference however, that the knowing subject is then the entire soul and not merely the discriminative [read: LCH] intelligence (Schuon).

In short, it requires more of us:

What the [LCH] intelligence perceives quasi-mathematically, the soul senses in an as it were musical manner that is both moral and aesthetic... 

Exactly. As we've said in the past, the soul -- or something like it -- is our nonlocal organ in hyperspace. Which is just an amusing way of saying that there is some receptive faculty in us that senses transcendent realities. We know the soul exists because we can know when it has been "touched" by something. And it is important to pay attention to these points of contact, and to amplify them, so to speak.

For Schuon, the sense of the sacred "is the awareness"

of That which cannot not be, whose immense remoteness and miraculous proximity we experience at one and the same time. The reason such an awareness is possible for us is because necessary Being reaches us in the depth of our heart, through a mystery of immanence that makes us capable of knowing all that is knowable...

Which sounds about right. It again reminds me of the "remote" three-dimensional sphere intersecting the two-dimensional plane and thus rendering it "proximate." 

"The sense of the sacred is also the innate consciousness of the presence of God," and the great majority of people throughout history have had this sense. Again, a Richard Dawkins is the exception, but even he presumably retains the capacity. It's just that the capacity has been eclipsed by a materialist ideology.

I suppose it also comes down to a properly developed sense of mystery. We'll close with a few aphorisms:

A fool is he who thinks that what he knows is without mystery.

The soul is fed from what is mysterious in things.

There is an illiteracy of the soul that no diploma cures.

"Irrationalist" is shouted at the reason that does not keep quiet about the vices of rationalism.

As long as we can respond without hesitating we do not know the subject.

When their religious depth disappears, things are reduced to a surface without thickness, where nothing shows through.

Actually, let's end with another artificial summary, because why not?

Analysis:

The text delves into the nature of human perception, particularly the concept of a "sixth sense" or a sense of the sacred. The author argues that this sense is not universally shared, and its development requires conscious effort and practice.

Key Arguments:

1. The Sixth Sense as a Spectrum: The author suggests that the sixth sense, or the sense of the sacred, is not a binary trait but rather a spectrum. Some individuals possess it more strongly than others, while others may lack it entirely.
2. The Role of Practice: The development of the sixth sense, like any other skill, requires consistent practice. This includes activities such as meditation, contemplation, and engagement with sacred texts or spiritual practices.
3. The Importance of Right-Brain Dominance: The author emphasizes the importance of the right hemisphere of the brain in accessing the sixth sense. This hemisphere is associated with intuition, creativity, and spiritual awareness.
4. The Impact of Materialism: Materialistic ideologies can suppress the development of the sixth sense by focusing solely on the material world and neglecting spiritual or transcendent realities.

Underlying Themes:

• The Nature of Consciousness: The text explores the limitations and potential of human consciousness, suggesting that it is capable of perceiving realities beyond the physical world.
• The Role of Spirituality: Spirituality is presented as a vital aspect of human existence, providing a means of connecting with something greater than oneself.
• The Importance of Balance: The author advocates for a balance between rational and intuitive thinking, suggesting that both are necessary for a full and meaningful life.

Overall, the text offers a thoughtful and provocative exploration of the human capacity for spiritual awareness. By examining the concept of a sixth sense, the author invites readers to consider the limitations of rational thought and the potential for deeper, more profound experiences. 

Today's summary right-brain image:

So God Exists. Now What?

Having proved to everyone's satisfaction that God exists, the next question is, What are we going to do about it? In other words, the existence of God isn't really the end of anything, rather, the beginning.

Analogously, most of us would now agree that an intelligible material world exists. Which likewise isn't the end of the matter, rather, only the beginning: the beginning of what we call "science." 

If science is how we deepen our understanding of the horizontal-material world, then I suppose religion is how we deepen our understanding of the vertical-spiritual -- of God -- that is, find out more than his sheer existence.

But our next (religious) move isn't exactly self-evident, is it? For example, many if not most primitive cultures agreed that the most prudent course was to offer a sacrifice, more often than not of another human being.  

In fact, someone once said that human sacrifice is the nuclear physics of primitive peoples, and Gil Bailie -- expanding upon the ideas of Rene Girard -- has taken this up in a series of books, beginning with Violence Unveiled: Humanity at the Crossroads.  

Me? I don't even like this idea of sacrifice, but there it is:

Sacrifice is the offering of material possessions or the lives of animals or humans to a deity as an act of propitiation or worship. Evidence of ritual animal sacrifice has been seen at least since ancient Hebrews and Greeks, and possibly existed before that. Evidence of ritual human sacrifice can also be found back to at least pre-Columbian civilizations of Mesoamerica as well as in European civilizations. Varieties of ritual non-human sacrifices are practiced by numerous religions today (wikipedia).

It seems that sacrifice is very much bound up with the whole idea of worship: for example, St. Paul says

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God -- this is your true and proper worship.

Moreover, we have it straight from the source that "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." Thus, "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

Let's start over: God exists. Now what? 

Well, renunciation is a kind of sacrifice, only on a personal and interior level -- an unbloody sacrifice of the ego, or the "lower self," as it were. Here are a few passages by Schuon that go to this auto-sacrifice:

The noble man is one who masters himself and loves to master himself; the base man is one who does not master himself and shrinks in horror from mastering himself....

The spiritual man is one who transcends himself and loves to transcend himself; the worldly man remains horizontal and detests the vertical dimension. 

The animal cannot leave his state, whereas man can; strictly speaking, only he who is fully man can leave the closed system of the individuality, through participation in the one and universal Selfhood. 

For "universal Selfhood" we can substitute the "mind of Christ" in which we may supposedly participate. But only to the extent that something or someone must die. Which, of course, is the meaning of baptism, of dying and being reborn in Christ. Like so?

 In another passage, Schuon writes that

Because modern men live almost entirely for the things of the senses and from that very fact remain ignorant of the human condition in its totality and in its ultimate purpose, it is difficult for them to comprehend the meaning of an attitude seemingly as negative and senseless as that of renunciation; they will regard it merely as a wholly unnatural superstition. 

Here again, renunciation = sacrifice: 

In reality it can easily be seen that renunciation is not self-explanatory; far from being an end in itself, it only supplies provisional support for the development of an awareness infinitely greater than our ego. Renunciation would be purposeless were it not a case of grasping with our whole being -- and not the mind alone -- what we really are, and above all of understanding what total Reality is, that “something” by virtue of which we exist, and from which we cannot for a moment escape. 

Renunciation aims at preventing man from becoming imprisoned in an ephemeral illusion, from identifying himself with it and finally perishing with it; it aims at helping him to free himself from the tyranny of dreams that leave no outlet.

I suppose it's not the religion I would invent. I am reminded of a crack by Nietzsche: 

But we've already stipulated that God exists, and now what?

Schuon has a lot of general advice as to the latter. In a "message to a disciple" he suggests that 

One must not waste one's time with worldly, unnecessary and often trivial distractions..., [rather] without unhealthy curiosity and without ever losing sight of the essential content and goal of life...

Instead, he advises

a simple life, monotonous in a holy way, dominated by the proximity of sacred, and on the margin from the uproar of this lower world.... This seems obvious, but most believers take no account of it. 

Elsewhere he writes of "the chief difficulty of the spiritual life," which is "to maintain a simple, qualitative, heavenly position in a complex, quantitative, earthly setting." 

Any more practical advice? 

The soul, instead of contracting and hardening in its natural selfishness, must open itself to Heaven and to the Divine Influx...

So, vertical openness to the grace. Anything else?

God has opened a gate in the middle of creation, and this open gate of the world towards God is man... 

 Well, good. Now what? 

the gate shuts at death when it has been scorned during life; for to be man means nothing other than to look beyond and to pass through the gate.

Otherwise, we might just 

slip through the human state without being truly man, that is, to pass God by, and and thus to pass our own souls by, as if we had any right to human faculties apart from the return to God, and as if there were any point in the miracle of the human state apart from the end which is prefigured in man himself...

An artificial summary of today's post: 

Your exploration of the implications of God's existence is a profound one. It's clear that the mere acknowledgment of a higher power is not the end of the spiritual journey, but rather the beginning of a complex and often challenging path.

The Paradox of Sacrifice

The concept of sacrifice, both historical and theological, is a fascinating one. It raises questions about the nature of divinity, human suffering, and the meaning of ultimate reality. While ancient cultures often resorted to literal sacrifice, modern spiritual traditions emphasize a more subtle and internal form of self-sacrifice.

Renunciation as a Spiritual Practice

Schuon's emphasis on renunciation as a core spiritual practice aligns with this idea of internal sacrifice. By relinquishing ego-driven desires and attachments, we open ourselves to a deeper connection with the divine. This practice is not about self-denial or asceticism for its own sake, but rather about freeing ourselves from the limitations of our finite selves.

Practical Steps on the Spiritual Path

Schuon's practical advice offers a roadmap for those seeking a deeper spiritual life:

1. Simplicity: Prioritize the essential over the superfluous.
2. Solitude: Create space for quiet reflection and contemplation.
3. Openness to Grace: Cultivate a receptive attitude to divine influence.
4. Purposeful Living: Align one's actions with a higher purpose.

The Ultimate Goal: Union with the Divine

Ultimately, the goal of the spiritual journey is union with the divine. This is a state of consciousness in which the individual self merges with the cosmic consciousness. While this may seem like a distant and abstract ideal, it is attainable through consistent spiritual practice and a sincere desire for enlightenment.

A Concluding Thought

The question of "God exists, now what?" is one that has been pondered by countless spiritual seekers throughout history. There is no single answer, as the path to the divine is unique for each individual. However, by embracing practices such as renunciation, meditation, and prayer, we can embark on a transformative journey that leads to a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

Google gemini, paint us a picture of the post: