The New Agists, Under Which are the Literalists and Hypocrites

[Part 1 in my "Return of the Gods" series; sorry for the delay]

Religion is a feel-good enterprise these days, at least with Christianity. It more and more adopts the New Age mantra of "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change" (yes, that is the title of a musical) regarding others. But when one reflects on oneself, the third part of that phrase is frequently ignored; it's not always that people fail to see what needs to be changed, but that they fail to do it at all. Can it be because God loves them, no matter what? When something is accepted as it is, it is not going to be changed, so I wonder if some people, feeling the Divine Love, slough off any feeling of the need for change. I will leave that particular strain up to you to decide, after sharing this thought: perhaps instead of loving us, should we be concerned if God likes us?

My concern is the age-old problem of using religion to justify anything and everything. Self-justification is making oneself feel good about what one thinks or does, so it is relevant to my opening statement. Though, as Aesop pointed out in his fable "The Wolf and the Lamb," a "tyrant will always find a pretext for his tyranny," the tyrant's position can seem more secure if he uses a widely accepted source for defense. Enter the Bible and other religious texts. I love the Bible, the greatest anthology in the world, as the magnificent collection of literature it is. A problem arises when people take it for its word (instead of its Word). These Literalists are multiplying madly currently, and these little tyrants have been finding all sorts of pretexts. Anyone with a decent knowledge of how literature works should know better than to read poetry (good poetry, anyway; as Oscar Wilde said, "all bad poetry is sincere"), exactly as it is written. The Bible, which also contains writing of a wonderful mixture or fiction and non-fiction (it is not my concern here how correct the Holy Book is on history and science, only how it is interpreted), loses much of its luster and gains much terror in the hands of the Literalists. Much of Protestantism in America is overrun with these people; Catholicism, not to be left out, is catching up. You see them when they claim that the world was created in 144 modern hours; when they interpret any and every natural disaster as a sign from God; when they justify taxation with Jesus' admonition to "Give to Caesar what is Caesar's"; and so on. A favorite recourse seems to be Leviticus, though that is as much a good read as the Communist Manifesto, and is, in terms of good literature, the weakest book in the Bible; needless to say, much of its strictures are antiquated. Though it will be more important with the Hypocrites, Literalists also pick-and-choose the chapters and verses they use, perhaps to avoid the logical dissonance that would result from their preconceived notions meeting with a text that didn't support them. Now, their positions might be more justified if the words they take as exact fact were the words first written. But they attempt to literalize translations from languages quite different from our own. There is always something lost in translation, particularly with poetry, whose word choice is very exact. I think that is enough that needs to be said on that matter. In any case, my problem with Literalists is that I read the Bible largely as metaphor, with its central figure, God, being the greatest of all metaphors, since He is Everything; and you can't read a metaphor literally.

A frequent crossover with these people are the Hypocrites, who are of a much larger breed. The capital 'H' is significant, because these people don't just say one thing and do another; rather, they are one thing, and yet really are another. Many Christian-claiming people really are nothing of the sort (someone said that if Christ came back today, he wouldn't be a Christian; Nietzsche said that there was only one Christian, and he died on the cross). You cannot serve both God and Mammon, yet many try. Republicans are on the gallop lately, savoring the chance to be President, and most claim to be Christians. Yet, do their views side with the Prince of Peace? You cannot both take up the Cross of Christ and take up offensive war. "Just War Theory," even in its looser interpretations, still does not allow for the blood-lust most of the Republican candidates display (to be fair, this is also rampant among Democrats). And isn't there a disconnect between being Pro-Life with fetuses but not with those already born? This is probably the biggest instance, but there are others. For example, Christian redistributionists justify their actions using the Bible's declarations to help the poor; what they overlook is the more important fact of the New Testament's implications for free will, that charity is something to be encouraged, not enforced, and that it becomes void when not done willingly. When Jesus said that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of the needle than for a rich person to get into heaven, he was not damning the wealthy because of their wealth; if that were so, then why does God make so many prosperous (as a friend pointed out)? Rather, it is the lack of will to relinquish material positions to follow Christ prevalent among most people that is the problem (or, to make it less religious, the need for renunciation in order to change). There is a deep rankness among people who truly believe they are Christians and yet overtly discard Christ's most important lessons, and it must be by Doublethink.

The New Agists, subsuming Literalists and Hypocrites, are helping to bring back a Theocratic Age by instituting theocracy itself; in other words, deeply politicizing religion, and making their God the President. Christ, who denied Satan's gift of the nations because they are of this world and Christ is of the Kingdom of God, is becoming very worldly. How else do you explain the American flag being flown above the Christian flag at a church, or that there is even a Christian flag at all? How else do you explain Christ being used to exonerate agents of offensive war, from soldiers to politicians? How else do you explain using a figure who freely died for others to endorse forced redistribution? How else do you explain several Republicans claiming they are on a mission from God, that they were called, as though they were the Blues Brothers? God was very clear himself about what he thought of earthly kings (1 Samuel 8:7-18). No, for me Christ is renunciation, who gave to the world what was the world's, his human aspects, so that he could be like his Father God. His love is not a justification for not changing that which can and should be changed (the New Agists, who think "you are beautiful, no matter what they say" or that you are perfect, even though perfection is a finality impossible for humans, who must change to love as Kiekegaard said); his parables and the prophecies are not meant to be understood at word, but are meant for rumination to discover who you are (the point of all literature), and therefore what needs to be changed; and his wisdom cannot be both claimed and ignored, and the hypocrisy is worst when used for political expediency. Religion has always been (unfortunately) tied to the State, but there seems to be something arising that is more than marriage, and I think it is that as the two meld more and more, the newest religion we'll see is Politicism, where people will worship at temples like the White House. This process is already well underway, as America elected a President running on the rather non-governmental concerns of Hope and Confidence ("Yes We Can"), and who is (or was) spoken of with a reverence unbecoming of a politician.

Therefore, the next segment will discuss the emerging religion of Politicism, and it's grave dangers for man.

The Return of the Gods: An Introduction

Those who know their history know we are doomed to repeat it.

That formulation came to mind a few days ago in a conversation about history; it was meant in jest, but I almost immediately seized upon its import, and it has been coursing about my head for a bit, desiring me to do something with it. Running concurrently with that is the culmination of tempered dealings with a certain difficult person, who has lately moved me to condemnation (not directly with this person, since that would achieve nothing), leading me to begin writing a blog post. After two paragraphs and a day's reflection, I realized that I was writing a few essays in one: a rant, essentially, and that I was skirting about the what I really needed and wanted to focus on. Reenter the heading line of this post; I realized that what I needed to focus on was a topic of great interest to me since I first heard about it, for it is a Big Idea. First learning of him in the critical writings of Harold Bloom, Giambattista Vico proposed in his magnum opus Scienza Nuova (The New Science) a revolution of history in which there are three "distinct stages (corsi): the ages of gods, heroes, and men," until there is a return (ricorsi) to a theocracy, in which people are most poetical (Bloom proposes a fourth, intermediate stage, at least in literature: a chaotic age, a transitional period back to a theocratic age).  Bloom believes that we are in the final stages of the Chaotic Age, and indeed are already in the midst of a new Time of Gods; this series of posts is my acceptance, reasoning, and explication of this notion.

What is most central for me is the concern of what this ricorsi already looks like (and hence why I think it is upon us), where it could go, and the question of authority. There will be plenty of compare and contrast between the previous Theocratic Age and the incoming one, at least as much as I can muster. anyway Since this is a blog, I feel the need to be short, concise, and must forbear deep research and thorough essaying; consider it the first foray into a possibly larger project. I do not have all the posts planned, but since I am writing about a new Dawn of Deities, I will start with Religion, and I know I will follow it with Science; indeed, the rest of the series will focus on the institutions of authority present in our world.

Like Fortuna here.

"But enough about me. Why don't you talk about me . . ."

It is not in my nature to talk about myself (at least directly). Part of it is a feeling of inferiority, another part is a flight from solipsism, which I always fear I am sinking into. Even in this blog, I try to stay away from myself and focus more on the topic, so that anything relating to me personally is incidental. This can be great for aesthetic pursuits, as with that paragon Shakespeare, who so removed his self from his works that we know, to paraphrase Borges, everything and nothing about him. It is not so great in life.

Despite so much praise and so much belief from others that I will succeed fabulously, I must admit that I suffer from a rather low sense of self-regard and an immense doubt that I'll amount to even a hill of beans, and it is nothing new. I had two small nervous breakdowns before college, and almost another one, which, in an attempt to quell it before it overtook me, led to telling my parents I am bi, which only helped in taking my mind from one issue to another. The first two dealt specifically with the immense burden I felt to succeed (mostly coming from myself), while the almost-one was related to my sexuality. But they all were connected by the feeling of unworth. I did not think I could succeed, and I did not like myself at the time for liking all sexes (oh, younger me. . .). Only now am I fully getting over the latter, but now that the stakes are higher, the former is even more troublesome. As a composer, I have to go in with a certain mentality that what I am doing is good, at least worthy of performance, or why bother? Almost every day, though, I face the fear that I am outmoded, old-fashioned, and practically every new piece is a reluctant embrace of more "modern" practices (though I am really embracing the expansion of my personal art). This inferiority is also a hindrance to conversation, for rarely do I feel like I have something of interest to say (which compounds my natural shyness and difficulty with words while talking).

As stated above, another part of the problem is the desire to avoid falling into myself. Solipsism, "the philosophical idea that only one's own mind is sure to exist," is great in art (Lady Bracknell in The Importance of Being Earnest is a great example), but you should probably turn the other way if you encounter a solipsist. For me, the temptation to fall into such a state is a defensive measure, a shielding from  that which could cause me trouble. To ward it off, I try to take myself as un-seriously as possible. The title of this blog is a somewhat serious thing, but it is also my joke on the egotism involved in blogging. Also, I think arrogance can coincide with solipsism; a friend asked about the difference between arrogance and confidence, and among the answers, I offered that arrogance is the opinion of others that one has padded his resume; for a solipsist, his resume is everything. It is a dangerous trait to have, because, as I understand it, it comes at the expense of empathy. At any rate, though I don't think I will truly become such, I fear it nonetheless.

I offer this much of myself, first, to get it out of it the way (so I can avoid bringing it up again and again on this blog), but also to discuss the notion of talking about oneself. How far can one go in self-praise before it becomes boasting? How much should one reveal to anyone and everyone? Is there such a thing as full disclosure, and if so, is it a good thing? And how much should privacy be sacrificed? I have chosen to forgo some privacy for myself by writing having this blog, but I still retain the right to my self. These are self-revealing times, and people leave much too little to be desired.

A Fest of Many Colors

Just returned from Pridefest '11 at Tower Grove Park in St. Louis, and I had a good time (this was my first time). Though I was expecting much more activity, it still had excitement (aside from some pastor walking around the perimeter spewing vitriol against the whole thing, though very briefly, it was good excitement). Some good acts (go Gateway Men's Chorus!), many great vendors, and the largest collection of non-straight people I've seen, some of whom were advertising their goods, to put it politely. I spent most of the time with my best friend/ex-girlfriend, who, when I left her, was more bedecked in pride then myself, including a brand new rainbow purse.

Indeed, I ended up with only a bracelet (one of those of the LiveStrong kind) because it was tossed out for free. I had a certain peculiar shame of sexuality for much of my life, and I'm only recently getting over it; this, along with my naturally reserved nature, leads me to be quiet about expressing myself very noticeably. My embarrassment was peculiar because my stance on sexuality was very equivocal, which is to say that I didn't know what it was, it was changing every time I thought about it. Over the years though, as I became more comfortable with myself, my views became more specified and pacified. I prefer to keep many private things private, so I'm not going to get more specific about my life relative to this matter. However, for all the victories that PrideFests around the world celebrate, for me, going today was about celebrating my victory over past qualms over a part of myself and others.

A work of beauty that a friend posted on Facebook, by Debussy.

Walking

 Today, I walked for some 2 hours (with a 5-10 minute break and plenty of brief pauses to sightsee) around the Central West End (St. Louis, MO), for around 4 1/2 miles, certainly one of the longest walking sprees I've taken. Though my legs were passing tired when I got back, they aren't sore, though I don't feel soreness until the next day, so we'll see. When I lived in St. Jacob, there were a couple years when I would walk almost every single day, even in the harsher temperatures. The town was small enough that if I wanted I could easily take in the whole place within 2 hours, though I usually didn't. Now that I live Collinsville, which is about 25 times bigger, I don't have that luxury, but I do have much more variety, so it's a good tradeoff. It was variety that drove me to walk to such an extent, and since I'm housesitting for the week near the CWE area, I decided to stroll through some of it.

I learned a few things. There is even more beauty in this neighborhood than I had previously known; there is much more variety of people and places intermixed in this small area than in the whole of a place like Collinsville, my current home of 25,000 people and the typical separation of residential and commercial; a place like this is where I really want to live (God I need a job!). More pertinent to this post, however, is that I truly rediscovered my love for walking. It's not that I'd forsaken strolling about, but the walks I've taken lately were more constitutionals than pleasures. I revamped my regular walks last summer to help lose weight, but I rarely enjoyed them as I used to. The muggy, miserable summer weather didn't help, but the unfamiliarity of my new home (this was only 2-3 years after moving, which may seem like a long time, but I rarely got out into the community) hampered my interest, and it certainly didn't have the glamor of a neighborhood like the area around Forest Park. But I realized today, along with my new-found passion for ambling about, my new community had become familiar and that I could finally begin enjoy my walks around it. Though I knew St. Jacob very intimately from 18 years of dwelling there, I was never bored with the surroundings; rather, I would be startled by some subtlety, some minutiae that I had never seen before, or I would be too occupied with thoughts to really care.

Another thing, which was more emphasized than realized, was that I enjoy observation too much to whiz past things. There was so much to see that I would need to see it again to truly begin to see it, but none of this could I truly appreciate if I just ran by it all. Mark Twain said that "golf is a good walk spoiled." Replace "golf" with "jogging," and you get my sentiment. I chuckle a little inside when ever I pass a jogger (or they pass me), and I've always thought jogging was a silly thing, though for a long time I just accepted that as an opinion, perhaps unfounded. (Also, my body just never accepted long-distance running, so that might have influenced it.) Last year I read The Primal Lifestyle, which helped me lose weight, become healthier, and gave me a reason for my suspicions of sustained running. The author, Mark Sisson, was a former long-distance runner (an Olympic one, I think) who would jog and run for many miles almost every day. He writes that such a lifestyle, coupled with runners' diet filled with carbohydrates, was actually making him unhealthy. Sure, he was incredibly fit, but build of body does good health denote. Such sustained fast paces depresses the immune system, which accounts for a higher amount of minor illnesses among runners. There are scientists who also say it smacks of evolution, that mankind didn't evolve to constantly run but to walk, and that sprinting was merely a survival technique.

So maybe my physical and mental instincts are right, that walking with intermittent sprinting is the most healthful option. At the least, I will see the things that I would miss if I just ran past it.