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Virgin Monk Boy's avatar

If you're not at least a little unhinged, you're probably still bolted to someone else’s dogma and mistaking the lock for liberation. What you’ve offered here, Jim, isn’t just a list of dangerous questions. It’s a tuning fork for anyone who’s ever felt the walls of inherited belief closing in and wondered if the exit sign was mislabeled “sin.” Most religion doesn’t fear heresy. It fears honesty. The kind of honesty that dares to ask not if God is real, but if the word “God” still serves the real.

I’ve long believed that language is our original idolatry. We build temples around nouns and forget the verbs they once pointed to. Like you, I’ve tried to speak of mystery without handing it a business card. And every time I’ve tried, I hear Mary Magdalene in the background—saying nothing, but breaking open the jar anyway. She never needed to name the sacred to anoint it.

Your reflection on Maslow hit hard too. I’ve spent enough time in the monastery of real life to know you can’t meditate away a hunger pang. But I’ve also watched people starve for meaning in rooms full of food. Maybe what we need isn’t to decide which need is most urgent, but to stop pretending spirit and structure are two separate economies. The sacred doesn’t hover above the world. It composts in it.

Unhinged is the perfect word for this path. And it’s good to be among those who’ve stopped trying to screw the door back on.

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Patricia Andrews (WA)'s avatar

This is a profound collection of questioning. As I read it, I can follow my own questions about Who, What, When, and Where; but I cannot answer the central question of Why. I have answers that I have arrived at, but as you have found yourself, there is no real answers — only further questions. So I will ask mine in light of your essay.

First, is the problem of words. Words are slippery creatures and everyone comes to their own understanding of what a word means (with or without arguments to support their interpretations). This odd situation has filled the world with theories and definitions that are a slippery as a yolk in an egg white. What if the words “God” and “Religion” were not defined correctly? What if those two nouns were, in fact, uninterpretable because they are invented by humans to name the undiscovered and unknown? This might go some way into explaining the poor record of all of the definitions of God and Religion that we are beset with.

I imagine the human ‘beast’ at any point in history (recorded or not) finding a black box in the middle of nowhere. (Please forgive my reliance on the image from “2001, a Space Odessy” film of many years ago, but it suits my purpose as a metaphor.) Having never before seen the thing, the viewer must acknowledge that it exists, for he has stubbed his toe on it. But, since he does not know the Who, What, When, Where, or Why of it; he is reduced to give it a name. He might even be induced to write a story giving himself permission to name this thing and take ownership of it.

As soon as this hypothetical person claims ownership of the unidentifiable thing, another person comes along and says: “I know what that is, and you are wrong”. An argument ensues and one person accidentally kills the other person in the Melée. A third person, observing this argument and its result, decides to never touch or come near to the box — while a fourth person recognizes that the box has the power to cause chaos and takes ownership of the box.

This scenario about a black box and its observers is the “nutshell” of the trouble with defining things. Each person decides what they are looking at, imagines how it might be used, and wants to capture the perceived power of the object. The fundamental problem is that none of the persons actually has enough information about the object that they are looking at to determine if their idea is correct or not.

I have come to believe that this is the central, and possibly fatal flaw in humanity. Yet, there are individuals who take up the problem and wrestle with it. For instance, the two that you named your favorites: Bhuddha and Jesus. Yet, each of them become their own version of a black box that is incomprehensible to others and the inevitable bickering, misunderstanding, and perhaps murder follow their observations because of the inherent inability of ‘people’ to wrestle with the incomprehensible fact of existence.

The unique problem of understanding is that we desire it always, and yet never conquer it. How could we? Can anyone comprehend whatever force created the universe since none of us were there to observe the event? All we can do are invent names and reasons according to our own capabilities, and those must always fall short.

So, I’m sure that there is nothing new about what I think, but I beg that we will always be able to recognize and appreciate the existence of our own fallibility, our own inability to know the universe as it continues to open up to us regardless of our fancy that we have defined its reason for existence. I would be interested in how you interpret my little allegory — one of thousands proffered over the centuries. Thank you for asking.

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