Mind is Like a Fluid …

There is a parallel question about language.  How is it that a word relates to or refers to a particular object?  The word is itself an object, a vocalized sound or a mark on a page.  What connects the word “bell” to the bell?  Sometimes it is said that one “points” to the other, but that is a figure of speech.  As the twentieth-century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein observes, the same question arises with pointing.  When you stretch out your finger, why does it direct attention to an object across the room, rather than to itself?

Follow along, and open your mind.  Mind is like a fluid in which human beings and the natural world exist.  By participating in the fluid, minds can understand.  Think of the problem of intentionality.  How is reference possible?  How can essences be grasped?  How can objects be seen?  There must be an interaction, and it is not only causal-physical.  How could it be?  Mind, understanding, is not just physical.  It is a conscious, fluid medium.

“Is it somewhat physical?”

Those categories are not helpful here, but it exerts physical force, has physical consequences.

 

A Purified Theology Tended to Empty Out the Concept of God

My experiences with God were personal and intimate.  Philosophers drain the life out of Him.  God the Person becomes God the Abstraction—the Unmoved Mover, the One, the Absolute, infinite substance, the perfect being, the being whose essence is to exist.  The poet  William Butler Yeats describes the result:  “High on some mountain shelf/ Huddle the pitiless abstractions bald about the neck.”

The great Jewish scholar, Gershom Scholem, explains the phenomenon.

“The philosophers and theologians were concerned first and foremost with the purity of the concept of God and determined to divest it of all mythical and anthropomorphic elements.  But this determination to … reinterpret the recklessly anthropomorphic statements of the biblical text and the popular forms of religious expression in terms of a purified theology tended to empty out the concept of God ….  The price of God’s purity is the loss of his living reality.  What makes Him a living God … is precisely what makes it possible for man to see Him face to face.”

“No, animals are not cruel …”

I had been asking God about the early stages of life.

Personality develops (think of your own pets) and intelligence, problem-solving, lives with continuous purpose and plans, individual recognition of one animal by another, life-long mates. Now I have not just a playpen, but a menagerie, a zoo, of my own, a private jungle where I can be Tarzan.

There is nothing wrong in this world.

“Aren’t animals sometimes vicious, sometimes cruel?”

No, animals are not cruel—their personalities have not developed to that point.  Nothing (is) wrong.  It is delightful, a joy.  I love all the animals, and bear their suffering.

Things that Seem Reckless to You Are Not Reckless

I do not want to rush you or make you do something that feels reckless, but I have to push you.  Things that seem reckless to you are not reckless.  They are safe.  What is reckless is wasting your time, wasting your life away.  Life is short.  You must make the most of it now.  It is now time to move on.

Start reading and studying.  Start doing some writing.  Start talking to people on a careful, gentle basis.  Find out who your friends and allies are.  Do not hold back.  Seek support.  Not everyone walks so closely with God.  Can’t you tell that I am already blessing you, already keeping My covenant with you?

I have prepared you to be a risk-taker.  I have always rewarded you for it.  Now I am asking you to take another risk.

 

 

 

 

“You need both.”

Most of my prayers were about the ups and downs of daily life and often about my still new relationship.  I often began the day by praying while still in bed.  One morning, I was asking something about Abigail.  For a second time, the answer came in a woman’s voice.  “Is that a female voice?”

Yes.

“Are You a woman?”

When I want to be.

“Why do You usually appear as a man?”

It goes over better.

“With most folks?”

Yes.

Many days later, I had an experience that felt like the feminine presence of God—like a powdery shower, like perfumed talc being sprinkled over my whole being.  When I had unusual experiences like this, I found them both heady and troubling.  “Lord, I could get lost in experiences like this.”

This is a phase because it is new.  Don’t worry, you’ll get over it.

“Lord, is there special meaning to the feminine presence?”

You need both (masculine and feminine).  What you call the masculine presence gives you strength and energy.  It is a bonding in My service.  The so-called feminine gives you grace and peace.  It is a healing between you and Me.

“There is a purpose but not an end point.”

“Lord, is there an aim, like perfecting the world or uniting us all into the Godhead?”

No, not exactly.  There is a purpose but not an end-point.  The notion of an end-point derives from the model of the human will and its desires, getting what it wants.  The purpose of singing a song is not to get to the end.

There is no end-time.  The purpose of eschatology is to portray something about the meaning of the world.

Eschatology denotes religious ideas about the final purpose or culmination of history.

There are endings to particular worlds, but they are not apocalyptic, any more than an individual death is.

Well, just when a meaningful pattern was emerging, a sense of direction to life and history, it ends, as T. S. Eliot says, “not with a bang but with a whimper.”  History comes to nothing.  I found this answer distressing, and Abigail was more upset than I was.  One of the Jews’ gifts to the world is the very idea of history, not as a series of endless episodes or cycles, but as a progress, with a Beginning (the Creation) and a Grand Finale (the Coming of the Messiah).  Abigail doesn’t even like movies without happy endings.  And we weren’t talking about movies.  As we saw it, we were talking about whether life had any meaning or purpose at all.  This is a concern neither of us would let go.

“Outside of the Bible, Who Talks to God?”

Another notable book by William James, The Varieties of Religious Experience, helped answer this question. The founder of pragmatism, the only distinctively American school of philosophy, James taught not only philosophy but, as Harvard professors did in those days, psychology and physiology as well.  He was a man of science but, for him, empiricism did not mean restricting our understanding to what science registers; he looked without prejudice at all kinds of human experience, of which religious experiences are among the most interesting. He talks about famous people such as George Fox as well as ordinary people who have received answers to prayer or psychic intuitions or visitations from recently-departed family members.

Many human beings have had moments of divine or non-natural awareness, probably more than feel comfortable talking about them publicly. Duke English professor Reynolds Price writes about his own battle with cancer.  During the course of his treatment, he had an encounter with Jesus in a vision or, as it seemed to him, in another dimension. After he published his story, he received letters from many people with similar experiences—experiences that they had never told anyone. My experience was not as out-of-line as I had thought.  

I decided to follow the voice and see where it would lead me.

 

The Parts Can Communicate with the Whole

 

“Lord, I feel you want me to do more of the mystical stuff, ‘entering’ You and so forth.”

Yes, and you can remove the scare quotes.  There is nothing strange about it.  That is how the universe is.  The parts can communicate with the whole.  It is no more mystical or mysterious than your ability to move your arm. 

Actually, since Descartes introduced a sharp mind-body distinction, how the mind moves the body has been a philosophical mystery.  But, in actual life, it is not.  The parts can communicate with the whole and vice versa.  But I had never thought of the universe that way.

I continued to have experiences of divine indwelling and partial union with God.  Now that I am used to them, they do seem similar to getting lost in an experience.  God mentioned music as one example, and we all know that feeling.  Sometimes you are not something separate, standing back and noting the music—you are immersed in it with your whole frame, without reserve.  However, the more radical, “dissolution of self” mystical experiences—I may have had them two or three times—make me uneasy and I avoid them.