Showing posts with label Divine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Divine. Show all posts

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Pope Joan

"I am more afraid of my own heart than the Pope
and all his Cardinals. I have within me the great pope, Self.
"
~ Martin Luther
 
 
 
 
The Pope is the spiritual leader of Roman Catholicism, the 'Vicar of Christ,' God's right hand on Earth. According to orthodox Roman Catholic doctrine, the Pope is infallible - his word is divinely inspired, and so cannot be in error (the Muslim prophet Mohammed, in what you may see as an echo or evolution or reflection of this, remarked in the Hadith that "my people cannot agree on error;" as a result, ijma, or 'consensus,' is considered in scholarly Islamic circles to be a basis of religious authority. Authority, and fallibility, have not been explicitly discussed as yet, but of course they are centrally important to a parasimplistic worldview). One might expect that in the spiritually symbolic Major Arcana, one would find a Pope, and one does (his number, as Malaclypse the Younger could tell you, is 5, and we'll come to a discussion of his import later); but first, one finds a Popess.
 
The reason for this is tied in with the numerology we talked about a while ago, the arithmetic underpinning of the Law of Fives. The Magician, numbered 1, represents the apotheosis of the Self in this moment (allegorically, the Self in the moment of satori, the Self in the moment of awareness of itself qua self) - but this Sein-in-der-Welt is, of course, not the parasimplistic self, which is both itself and something more than itself. The Magician is identity, and Identity is an illusion.
 
The Popess, numbered 2, is duality; this is represented most clearly by her obvious femininity, by contrast with the foregoing two cards (respectively showing Man in the folly of ignorance, and Man in the folly of self-knowledge). In Rider-Waite, she is shown with a crescent Moon at her feet - this is also the iconographic depiction of the Virgin in Roman Catholicism, in reference to the Book of Revelations (and, intriguingly, according to one theory, in reference to Catholicism itself, and what came before it) - and wears the diadem of Hathor, the Egyptian "Mistress of the West." Both allusions identify the Popess with motherhood, with the divine, and with the yin energy of the taijitu. In Rider-Waite, she is depicted holding the Torah and seated between the pillars of the Temple of Solomon, reinforcing the syncretism of the imagery.
 
(The Popess also has a historical imagery to it, a very early and subversive element of proto-feminism, but despite her appearance in the title, Pope Joan is not a subject for discussion in this metanow.)
 
The Popess can be understood as the apotheosis of the female, which is more than mere Identity because the female can nurture and birth new beings. The female explicitly has something of the divine energy of Creation in her, which the male can merely ape with construction of unliving devices. The symbolism of the Virgin is significant here; the Popess powerfully alludes to the Pagan Triple Goddess of Maiden, Mother, and Crone, and the biologically necessary role of the male in conception is not to be understood here as part of the Divine Mystery of creation. Where the Fool represented blind faith, and the Magician self-knowledge, the Popess betokens intuition - a sense of things unseen, complementary to and cumulative with the Magician's arid knowledge of what is clearly before him. The Popess makes the connections between things without needing to know what those things-in-themselves are; the Magician understands things in their nature without appreciating the wholeness of the world. Thus the necessity of union between the energies for balance, and for enlightenment.

Monday, September 17, 2012

The womb of truth


Every experience is a paradox in that it means to be absolute,
and yet is relative; in that it somehow always goes beyond itself
and yet never escapes itself.
” ~ T. S. Eliot

 

Over the last couple of posts, we’ve looked at paradoxes – statements that seem to be understandable in our representative system, but produce confounding results. Mandelbrot’s statement that a coastline gets longer the shorter the scale of measurement becomes is an example of a paradox of infinite recursion; Godel’s statement that any logical system must be inconsistent or incomplete exemplifies a paradox of self-referentiality. I will hereby gift you another of my unsubstantiated assertions: all paradoxes are either paradoxes of infinite recursion, and so statements about the One-in-All; or they are paradoxes of self-referentiality, and so statements about the All-in-One.

These concepts of One-in-All and All-in-One, to which we briefly alluded some time ago in a discussion of the Phoenix, are important in theology, where they provide analogies for the Divine. Within the pentapartite model of reality outlined early in the life of this blog, these concepts are transcendental – they derive meaning only as relations with ideals, or metarelations.

Systems constructed by our rational faculty cannot grasp these metarelations, because they are bound to the objective and subjective realms. Even though I am providing you the raw material for a scheme that describes metarelations, it necessarily falls short of being properly descriptive – my assertion that there exists something beyond our understanding is not at all the same thing as an assertion that this specific entity here is understandable as being beyond our understanding (in fact, you might be able to recognize this second construction as a restatement of the paradox of self-referentiality). Nevertheless, an examination of paradoxes has value – not only as an intellectual exercise, but also as a spiritual one.

Nicolas of Cusa, known also as Cusanus, elaborated a sophisticated philosophy around this notion of paradox as a womb of truth in the transcendental sense. He posited a cosmology in which God was both within and beyond the All of Creation and the Nothingness of Void; he described God as the non aliud, the ‘not-other,’ that is, the thing which is neither One nor the Other (this can be seen as a challenge to the Aristotelian Law of the Excluded Middle, an anticipation of Godel’s Incompleteness Theorem, or yet another restatement of the paradox of self-referentiality). For Cusanus, God was the unimaginable union of All and Nothing in One.

(A quick aside: note that Cusanus here introduces a third element to our earlier picture of One-in-All and All-in-One. In fact, we can now talk of One-in-Nothing, All-in-Nothing, One-in-All, Nothing-in-All, and All-in-One. We could talk of Nothing-in-One, but that would actually be Two, harking back to our earlier discussion of essential numerology. The cosmology of One, Nothing, and All is another restatement of the Law of Fives.)
Cusanus accepted that God was unknowable, in accordance with Church teaching (he was a Bishop of Rome in the Catholic Church). He nevertheless felt that we could understand something of the Divine, seeing perhaps “as through a glass darkly” but seeing nonetheless. Cusanus believed this could be accomplished by meditation upon the coincidentia oppositorum, the “marriage of opposites” – in the sense that paradoxes simultaneously defy and unify the opposites of True and False in a bivalent logic, they are ripe for Cusanian study.