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New Kabbalah Dialogue |
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Dialogue for the New Kabbalah Email inquiries with my response are subject to editing. I will not post your comments if you do not want me to, so if you are not willing to have your inquiry or comments posted please let me know. In general, the most recent dialogues appear. Earlier dialogues can be accessed through the links directly below. Because the size of this dialog page has become so large and cumbersome I will be transitioning to multiple dialog pages on various themes. An index to these theme centered dialogues appear below. In writing the author you can address any of the already existing themes or start a new dialogue. Prior Dialogue Themes Kabbalah and the Coincidence of Opposites Jewish Mysticism and the "Dark Night of the Soul" Jung and the Kabbalah: Dialogue Kabbalah and Psychotherapy: Dialogue Kabbalah and Other Spiritual Traditions Kabbalah, God and the "Unknown" Kabbalah and the Nature of Symbols and Metaphors Kabbalah, Walt Whitman, and the Coincidence of Opposites 12-04 Numinosity in
the Kabbala Robert Rosenstein queries as to whether there is a concept or a sense of the “numinous” in Jewish Mysticism. Dear Robert Rosenstein Thanks for your very interesting inquiry, which I will try to respond to. Rudolf Otto suggested that mysticism in general (and the Kabbalah is no exception) emphasizes the non-rational or supra-rational elements in religion, often at the expense of rational considerations. While I certainly have a great respect and interest in these non-rational, numinous elements of Jewish mysticism, my own interpretation of the Kabbalah and Hasidism seeks to uncover the rational, philosophical implications of Jewish mysticism and may therefore give the misleading impression that for the Jewish mystics the numinous is not an ever-present object of concern. In fact, the Lurianist, Chayyim Vital, held that "The secrets of the Torah and her mysteries are not revealed to human beings by the power of their intellects, but by means of divine vitality that flows from on high, through God's messengers and angels, or through Elijah the prophet, may his name be a blessing" (Chayyim Vital: Introduction to Sefer Etz Chayyim, p. 7--quoted in L. Fine, Physician of the Soul, Healer of the Cosmos: Isaac Luria and His Kabbalistic Fellowship (Stanford University Press, 2003).
The Lurianic theory of the Holy Sparks, suggests that there is an element of divine numinosity in all things and that an individual should be open to an experience of the holy in each of his or her daily encounters. (Jung makes reference to the "sparks" which he calls "scintillae" in the Mysterium Coniunctionis.) Indeed, for the Kabbalists, the act of performing the mitzvot is one of "uplifting the sparks" inherent in all things, and thus bringing out the numinous in the material entities, words and actions that comprise the mitzvot. It is for this reason that the mitzvot must be performed with kavannah, which I like to think of as "mindfulness" in the Vipassana Buddhist sense of being fully present to, observing and aware of one's sensations, experiences and actions during their performance. By being "mindful" in the performance of mitzvot, and in each of our actions, we are able to raise the sparks that are inherent in all our actions and encounters. (I personally do not think we must have any special ideas or concepts in our heads when we perform any act with Kavannah--such may or may not be present--the important thing is that we are present and in the present). The Hasidim speak of devekut ("cleaving"), and the resultant joy in prayer, the performance of the mitzvoth, and life itself. Such devekut leads to a non-rational, mystical experience of what Otto calls the element of fascination in the experience numinous, which includes, amongst other things, an experience of joy, wonderment and rapture. The Kabbalists and Hasidim also enter into another aspect of the numinous spoken of by Otto as "creature consciousness" which to me is a somewhat antiquated phrase through which Otto describes the experience of one's own "nothingness" in the face of an infinite, ineffable, divine. The Hasidim speak of bittul ha-yesh, the nullification of that which is (the self), an annihilation of the ego before the absolute, unapproachable, overpowering and transcendent. Interestingly, there is not a very strong tradition of unio mystica in Jewish mysticism, which makes the Jewish mystical experience particularly suited to a description in Otto's terms. The numinous, as Otto explains it, is something wholly (and holy) other, mysterious, fearful, awe-inspiring, etc. On the other hand, there is an interesting blending between immanence and transcendence in the Jewish view of holiness. Otto makes reference to the Hebrew term Qadosh (holy) in his initial description of the numinous. In Isaiah 6:3 we find the famous phrase that has worked its way into the daily prayer book: "Holy, holy. holy is the Lord of Hosts, the whole world is filled with his glory." The Lord of Hosts is both infinitely transcendent and completely near. Finally, Otto is somewhat critical of the tendency in the prophet Ezekiel to intertwine the numinous with the hyper-imaginative and the mythological, a tendency that at times tends to make the Kabbalah baroque in its complexity. Hasidism attempted to cut through the complexities of the Kabbalistic theosophy (and mythology) to arrive at a simple, straightforward experience of the holy in every day life. I hope I have pointed in the direction of an answer to your question. Sanford Drob
12-1-04 (1) Jung, Kabbalah, and the Nazis. (2) Psychology and the Alter Rebbe: Dialogs with Nachshon Zohari Dear Dr. Drob, Response of Sanford Drob Thanks so much writing! Coincidentally I was working on finishing my book on Jung and the Kabbalah and listening to a shir on Chassidus on the "Tanya line" here in Brooklyn at around the same time you wrote me.
From: Nachshon Zohari 12-2-04
Dear Nachshon: Yashur koach! I love your concise formulations and while I believe the Jung problem is a bit more complicated than you say I am essentially in agreement with your formulation. 11-8-04 Kabbalah. Psychotherapy and
the Coincidence of Opposites Dear Dr. Drob, I wrote an email to you a couple of months ago inquiring for resources related to a clinical application of the Kabbalah for my masters paper. Thank you for your response, the sources proved useful. I have some questions or thoughts regarding some of your writings, which I have found particularly useful. I am interested in coincidenta oppositorum, how this philosophy is articulated in the kabbalah, and specifically how this concept can be used psychotherapeutically (since it seems in many ways to exist in many psychotherapeutic schools of thought). I am confused in a couple areas of this philosophy. Question 1: Is the term coincidenta oppositorum, stated by socrates in his doctrine of opposites, are the two related? I am wondering the origins of this concept; although as I think you have implied that it seems to have arised in many wisdom traditions at different time periods. Question 2: this question is a bit lengthy and allow me to apologize if my thoughts are not articulate. My understanding of coincidenta oppositorum, and its psychological implications, is that one aspect of mental health and spiritual growth is the capacity to tolerate the experience of opposites. Psychotherapeutically, gestalt seems address this quite well. What I wonder is whether we ever experience opposites on some absolute level. Allow me to give an example: Suppose a client says I love my father and I hate my father. Semantically these appear to be opposing statements. Perhaps even the emotional quality of love and hate appear to be in complete opposition. However, if we include the reference points, behind these statements we may find that the the love and hate this client feels contains many non-opposing references. For instance, if the client said I love my father because he taught me a just moral system, versus I hate my father because he is unavailable emotionally. Now we find that even though the raw emotional quality of love and hate may be oppositional, we find that perhaps the holistic experience of loving a father’s moral system and hating a fathers emotional neglect are not actually opposites because there meaning units are not in opposition. It seems that there are certain arenas of experience in this example that psychological opposition is experienced and other arenas where it is not; the raw emotion of love and hate versus the emotion with its attached meaning. So, I bring this all up because I wonder if a part of our role as a therapist is not only the facilitation of tolerance of opposites, but also aiding the client to identify the areas in which two seemingly opposite emotions are not actually in some absolute opposition when we look a bit deeper at the reference point. Is there ever some absolute opposition in our minds (meaning, if we include the reference points on a very specific level, will they always be different, and isn't the references of love always included on some level in our experience of love, even as a newborn)? And of course I wonder whether this was all semantics, and I am misunderstanding the meaning of coincidenta oppositorum. Thank you, Keith Kurlander Sanford Drob responds: Dear Keith: I found your query very interesting and well thought through and, as is often the case with good questions, it has prompted me to analyze the topic more thoroughly than I had before. Below you will find my response to part of your question. I will have to research the history of the coincidentia oppositorum idea more thoroughly to answer your more historical query. Perhaps you can share with me what you learn about this in your own researches. I would like to have your permission to post your question along with my response and any further comments you may have on the Dialog portion of the Newkabbalah website. If you agree you may (only if you like) want to edit your question to take out any personal references or in any way you see fit prior to my posting it. I should also refer you, if you have not already seen these, to my articles The Coincidence of Opposites in Jewish Mysticism and Fragmentation In Contemporary Psychology: A Dialectical Solution (which are on the internet, the latter also appeared in the Journal of Humanistic Psychology), to my discussion of the problem of coincidentia oppositorum on pages 206-210 of my book Kabbalistic Metaphors, and a brief discussion of the idea of the coincidence of opposites in psychotherapy in Part I of An Interview with Sanford Drob on Kabbalah and Psychotherapy (also on the New Kabbalah website). Finally, I discussed the opposites and contradictions within the psyche as these apply to psychotherapy in some detail in an article I wrote for the Jewish Review in 1989, entitled "Antinomies of the Soul," which I hope to have on this website shortly. I think the question of the opposites in the psyche is an extremely important issue in psychotherapy. Jung, of course, has written a great deal about this topic. The phrase coincidentia oppositorum (the coincidence of opposites) like many philosophical notions carries with it considerable ambiguity. I believe that we can distinguish between 'weak' and 'strong' senses of this concept. The weakest sense of coincidentia oppositorum appeals to the empirical observation that apparently opposing ideas, feelings and intentions often coincide within the same subject or mind. Progressively stronger senses of this idea rest on the assertion that there is a causal or logical relationship between opposing ideas, feelings and motives; for example, the Jungian notion that an idea or feeling compensates for the excesses or deficiencies of its opposite, or Derrida's view that a particular 'reading' is possible only because of the opposing ideas or readings it excludes. Perhaps the strongest sense of coincidentia oppositorum rests on the assertion that opposing, indeed contradictory, ideas are both true and that the assertability and truth of each is completely dependent upon the assertability and truth of its opposite. (I have attempted to provide examples of this strong use of the coincidence of opposites in both S. Drob: Fragmentation In Contemporary Psychology: A Dialectical Solution, where I discuss the interdependence of certain opposing philosophical views as free will and determinism, and in S. Drob: The Coincidence of Opposites in Jewish Mysticism where I apply the coincidentia idea to theology and the "word-thing" distinction). A weak version of the coincidentia idea might hold with Walt Whitman that the human psyche is vast enough to contain contradictory ideas, e.g. both perfect faith in God and atheistic unbelief, but only the strong version would hold that a person's faith was logically dependent upon his unbelief, and vice versa. As you astutely point out, an analysis of this idea is complicated by several factors. The first of these is that apparently opposing or contradictory ideas and assertions may actually have partially or wholly different meanings or referents, in which case the opposition between them would be largely a function of vagueness and non-specificity. A second, related, complication arises from the possibility that an object, event or state of mind can be accurately described through what appears to be contradictory ideas simply because it is being described from two different perspectives or in two different ways (the same act can be both good and evil, depending upon one's point of view). Finally, it is not always clear whether the poles of a supposed opposition actually contradict one another or are rather simply opposites in some psychological or other non-logical sense (an example of this might be an individual's anger and attraction to the same person), in which case no special philosophical doctrine would be needed to reconcile them. Given the complexity of the analysis of coincidentia oppositorum, we would also expect a similar complexity in proposals to 'resolve' such oppositions or bring them into the state of 'unity' that is described by certain mystics (e.g. Cusanus, Azriel) and certain psychologists (Jung) who have made use of the coincidentia idea. First, we might hold that by simply clarifying our terms and their referents will remove any apparent contradictions in our talk about mind and the world. For example, clarifying the senses in which a person 'loves' and 'hates' his mother, or the senses of 'God" in which an individual believes in and does not believe in God, will remove apparent contradictions generated by overly general and vague language. Similarly, it might be thought that seeming contradictions can be resolved by specifying the differing value criteria that are brought into play in making apparently contradictory assertions. Life might turn out to be both meaningful and meaningless, human nature may turn out to be both fundamentally good or evil because were are surreptitiously applying different value criteria (or definitions of meaningful and good) at the same time. Again. By specifying our criteria the contradiction is removed. So far we have discussed points of view that would render the notion of coincidentia oppositorum misleading or valueless. A more positive view of the doctrine emerges from a recognition that the major dichotomies in human thought and experience (being and nothing, matter and mind, cause and effect, meaning and absurdity, male and female, outside and inside, science and religion, etc.) reflect oppositions in value and that a coincidence of such oppositions involves the reintroduction of a value that has been excluded by the historical privileging of its supposed opposite. This, I suppose, is the suggested 'resolution' that follows from the Jungian notion of compensation and Derrida's deconstruction. Another perspective on the coincidence of opposites is taken by those who hold that there are indeed fundamental antinomies that exist in both thought and the world that cannot be resolved through semantic analysis, and which require more than a "compensation" if we are to gain a satisfactory understanding of them. Some are of the view that such antinomies are irresolvable, while others (e.g. Kant, Findlay, Steinsaltz) suggest that their resolution requires the positing of a 'higher world' in order to resolve them. Still others (e.g. Hegel) suggest that a new form of 'dialectical' or 'bilinear' thinking is required in order to assimilate the poles of a contradiction and pass over into a higher integrating conception. In addition to those who hold that contradiction is somehow inherent in the nature of things there are those who believe that contradiction is not of the world-in-itself (whatever that may be) but is introduced into the world by thought and language. This view is very different, and should be distinguished from the view described earlier that apparent contradictions are merely semantic. i.e. due to vagueness and imprecision in the use of terms). On the view I am now discussing, the very distinction between words and things, which is introduced by language, conditions an infinite series of other distinctions that are necessary for practical life, science and culture but which nevertheless rend apart a primary unity. These distinctions give rise a series of contradictory yet interdependent ideas, beginning with the notions that (1) distinctions between things are necessary for there to be language and (2) language is necessary for there to be distinctions between things. While some suggest that such linguistically-generated 'contradictions' can only be resolved through a cessation of language and thought (traditional mysticism) I have suggested that a turn to bi-linear or dialectical thinking can demonstrate the logical interdependence of the dichotomies and antinomies engendered by language and thereby provide us with a glimpse (even within thought and language) of a unified whole. So much for the philosophical aspects of the coincidentia idea. I will now make some brief remarks on the applicability of this notion to psychology, particularly to psychotherapy. While language, as the vehicle of psychotherapy, helps to clarify our thoughts and feelings, it also limits and obscures them. This is because in expressing oneself one must choose between two poles of an opposition or select one set of words from an indefinite array of possibilities. One says I dislike x, or miss doing y, or feel angry about z, and one has already committed oneself down a path that may (and generally is) only partially and inexactly true. What I feel about my wife, my son, my dead father is … but when I say what I feel I have revealed something and concealed or ignored much more. That words both reveal and conceal is, according to Kabbalistic thought, a result of the Tzimtzum, the notion that all creation involves concealment and limitation. The psychotherapy patient will often, even as he or she speaks, have the sense that the words he/she is saying are not quite right, or that they are the very opposite of what he/she means to say, or that his/her words and their opposite are both true. It is important that the therapist and the patient both understand this, and that the therapist does not work to hard to dissolve the individual's contradictory beliefs, feelings, and attitudes by artificially pointing out the different senses, for example, in which the individual loves vs. hates his/her father, mother, spouse or self. Rather the therapist and client must both be open to the possibility that both beliefs ore feelings are present at once in a single sense, and that the client's developing and working through one train of thought and feeling does not preclude him or her developing another opposing trend on another occasion, and further that these two trends of thought are linked together, and even interdependent, in a variety of as yet unknown ways. Further, the therapist and client need to be open to the possibility (and wisdom) of silence. If language divides psychic realty, at times silence may be the only way to make it whole. The Kabbalists associated two of the Sefirot in particular with the harmonizing of opposites, Binah (Understanding) and Rachamim (Compassion, Empathy and Mercy). According to the Zohar and later Kabbalists, understanding and (especially) compassion are the essential midot or traits that enable the world to exist as these traits tend to, as Moses Cordovero put it "sweeten all judgments" and neutralize the bitterness of divine decrees; decrees that would categorize a person or an act as hateful or sinful. The trait exemplified by the Sefirah Rachamim, is said to create a balance between Chesed (overflowing love), and Din (Strict judgment) so that God can be accepting of humanity's imperfections and flaws (Palm Tree of Deborah, Ch. IV). Cordovero held that just as God is merciful to humankind, we should always show compassion and mercy to ourselves and others, especially to those who offend or provoke us, because even they have good qualities that should soothe our anger and cause our heart to delight in their virtue. (Ch. I. Attribute 6). The process of understanding and compassion/empathy enables both therapist and client alike to contain the contradictions inherent in the human soul and to see these as even necessary for the psyche's development and individuation. Good luck on your project and please keep me posted on its progress. Sanford
Drob 9-3-04 Derrida and Jewish Mysticism What was Derrida’s reply to Levinas’ ‘accusation’ of him being a modern day representative of Lurianic Kabbalah? Best Wishes, Tom Bland Response: With regard to your question, when Derrida, on another occasion was asked about his connection with mysticism he rejected the "charge" saying that mysticism, if it stands for anything, stands for the proposition that the absolute, the unity of all things, or God, can be present to a subject in a singular act of mystical consciousness. When interviewed on this very issue he responds by saying: "I am not mystical and there is nothing mystical in my work. In fact my work is a deconstruction of values which found mysticism, i.e. of presence, view, of the absence of a marque, of the unspeakable." Translated by PK, 1995- the German transcript of this interview is found in Florian Rötzer's book, Französische Philosophen im Gespräch, Munich 1986, pp. 67-87, here: 74 (Klaus Boer Verlag, ISBN 3-924963-21-5). I deal with this a bit more in the revised version of Derrid and the kabbalah which I just posted on my website. In sum, I don't think Derrida has it right about all forms of mysticism. SD Dear Sanford, I think when we look at Derrida’s work through his own definition of mysticism, his work is clearly not mysticism. However there seems to be a trace of the mystical that runs through his work. It is closer to Freud’s conception of the mystical has defined in a private correspondence with Georg Groddeck when he wrote, ‘Now every clever person comes to a point where he starts to turn mystical, where his most personal thinking begins.’ (Groddeck, The Meaning of Illness, Karnac, 1997.) Although I would not call Derrida a mystic, I do think there is the possibility of the mystical in his work. ‘In sum, I don't think Derrida has it right about all forms of mysticism.’ I would agree, for example, Derrida’s definition does not open a way into Buber’s sense of the mystical. All the best, Tom Kabbalah and
Symbolism Sanford, I have a few observations on your recent dialogue relating
to symbolic and discursive meanings. It seems to me that looking
at this issue dialectically, which I am sure you have done, can be
helpful. The movement from symbolic to discursive might be seen as
describing, in this terminology, nothing more than the creation
process. The universal "symbol" is
negated resulting in a particular discursive meaning or
meanings. But the birth of the discursive meaning is not the
end of the process. The discursive meaning includes or recognizes
the original universal meaning, which gives new power and significance to the
original symbol. I am assisted in this view by some reading
of your former mentor, J. N. Findlay, The Philosophy of Hegel, An
Introduction and Re-Examination (I found a used copy on Amazon!), and the
chapter on Hegel in your Kabbalistic Metaphors. Or, the original
symbol might be seen as a vessel which is shattered by the research and
discovery of discursive meanings, but then the multiple meanings are
dialectically restored to become a new symbol inviting further
shattering. As I understand the New Kabbalah, your writings follow
much this same process. The basic Kabbalistic symbols are
applied to specific thinkers (Hegel, Jung, Freud, etc.), which amounts
to a partial negation of the original symbol. But then both the
original symbol and the application become richer for our reading and
contemplation. Your frequent referral to the coincidentia
oppositorum explains the mutually enhanced values. Take Care, Charlie Coons Jewish Mysticism
and the “Dark Night of the Soul” 8-31-04 I will try to answer your question regarding Kabbalah and the “dark night of the soul”, but I invite others with more knowledge on this topic to answer as well. As I understand it, the “dark night of the soul” is a period of blankness, stagnation and suffering that follows upon the mystics’ initial illumination and which, through creating a state of impotency and despair in those who experience it, ultimately paves the way for a more lasting and secure unitive experience. Founded, in part, upon the mystics’ own awareness of his unworthiness and imperfection, the dark night is a period in his or her experience during which the light of illumination is in complete eclipse. Evelyn Underhill refers to it as the “complementary negative consciousness” to the positive pole of mystical enlightenment, an experience that is necessary for the completed transformation of the mystic’s character. The “dark night” is a sort of gloom and depression, yet one that is experienced as having a peculiar philosophical and theological moment. In contrast to those positive religious experiences in which one feels at one with a cosmos filled with meaning, the dark night is a negative mystical experience in which one feels isolated and alienated in a meaningless world. Perhaps one feels doomed by a malevolent power, or experiences a horror at the mere thought of having to bear yet another moment of one’s, and this world’s existence. In such a state, one loses faith, and believes, if one is honest with oneself, that the ideas that there is a God, an objective meaning to existence, or anything of enduring value, are absurd fantasies that one had fooled oneself into accepting as a bulwark against the harsh, naked truth. St. John of the Cross experienced the dark night as an utter abandonment by God, as a withering away of the spiritual world and life, and a consciousness of a profound emptiness. Others have spoken of a spiritual and emotional aridity or indifference, a dulling of the intellect and an utter lack of passion for anything whatsoever. Some who enter the “dark night” apparently emerge with an even greater conviction of the world’s meaningfulness, of divine beneficence and providence; others are swallowed up by it and (if they emerge at all) emerge as thoroughgoing skeptics and atheists, who comprehend that all meaning is self-created and therefore relative and transitory; while still others come to a recognition that the “All” encompasses both light and darkness, faith and unbelief, mystical ecstasy and unimaginable suffering. Indeed, the “dark night of the soul” can lead to an appreciation of what the 13th century Kabbalist, Azriel, spoke about as the union of all contradictions, including “faith and unbelief” which is the infinite, Ein-sof. Underhill tells us “destruction and construction here go together: the exhaustion and ruin of the illuminated consciousness is the signal for the onward movement of the self towards other centres; the feeling of deprivation and inadequacy which comes from the loss of that consciousness is an indirect stimulus to new growth” (Mysticism, p. 386). She continues by offering that the “dark night…is really a deeply human process, in which the self which thought itself so spiritual, so firmly established upon the supersensual plane, is forced to turn back, to leave the heightd and pick up those qualities which it left behind. Only thus, by the transmutation of the whole man, not by a careful departmental cultivation of that which we like to call his ‘spiritual’ side can Divine Humanity be formed” (Mysticism, p. 388). In Jewish mystical literature we do not, as far as I can tell, many “confessions” of experiences of the dark night of the soul. However, the notion of darkness as part of the soul’s journey to the absolute is clearly present in (1) the basic symbols of Kabbalistic theology, for example, Ayin—nothingness, Tzimtzum—divine concealment, Shevirah—shattering of all fixed values, experiences and ideas, and Kellipot—the imprisonment of divine soul sparks in the dark world of the “shells”), (2) midrashic and later Chassidic tales (e.g. those of Rabbi Nachman) which symbolically recount the excruciating struggle of the human soul to maintain its faith in divine providence, and (3) rituals (e. afillat apayim—falling on the face) that symbolize the soul’s journey into death as a mean’s of attaining devekut or attachment to God. The entire Lurianic cosmology suggests that humanity and the finite world in general is distant and alienated from God as the very condition of its existence (Tzimtzum); further humanity’s freedom necessitates a condition in which humankind is fallen into a dark realm in which divine light is further dimmed and even completely obscured (Kellipot). Given these cosmological conditions it is a wonder that the dark night of the soul isn’t a common and even natural spiritual state. I am aware of a description of the dark night of the soul in Hasidic literature which is discomfiting inasmuch as it has no obvious ‘happy’ resolution. Rabbi Menahem Mendel of Kotzk (1789-1859), the famous “Kotzker rebbe” was said to be completely uncompromising in his quest for faith, honesty and truth. He abhorred indifference and rote piety, and taught his followers that they must renew their quest for faith, self-knowledge and truth on a daily, if not minute to minute basis. For the Kotzker it was the passionate process of reaching for these ideals which is important, and one is deluded if he or she believes in a “final attainment.” Nineteen years before the Kotzker’s death, on a now infamous Shabbat evening which the Hasidim refer to simply as “that Friday night, the rebbe experienced something which transformed his own life and those of each of his followers. It seems that the Kotzker had been suffering from intractable headaches and had traveled to Lvov in search of a medical specialist who might afford him some relief. Many different stories have been passed down regarding what occurred that Friday night in Lvov; that the Kotzker blew out the Shabbat candles, that he cast his Kiddush cup to the ground, that he removed his yarmulke and smoked a pipe on Shabbat, and that he declared “there is neither justice nor judge” (Aryeh Kaplan, Chasidic Masters, p. 173). When he returned to Kotzk, Rabbi Menahem Mendel remained secluded for the next nineteen years; leaving his room only once a year for bedikah Chametz (the mandatory search for unleavened bread) on the morning of the eve of Passover. It would certainly seem that the Kotzker had some sort of mental breakdown; yet Abraham Joshua Heschel, in his account of the Kotzker’s “dark night” says that we simply do not know why the Kotzker had to go to such extreme lengths in his quest for truth. Perhaps there can be no clear boundary between a nervous breakdown and the religious experience of the dark night of the soul. One possible explanation of, or factor in why the “dark night” is rarely described in Jewish mystical literature may derive from the Jewish admonition to remain joyous in the face of what was indeed centuries of dark nights for the Jewish people. For example, Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav (1772-1810) who himself suffered immensely obver the loss of his son and wife said “You may fall to the lowest depths, heaven forbid, but no matter how low you have fallen, it is still forbidden to give up hope. Repentance is higher even than the Torah, and there is therefore no place for despair” (Quoted in Kapla, Chassidic masters, p. 110). Lawrence Fine, in his book on Isaac Luria and his mystical fellowship, points out that the spiritual adept becomes involved in an act of ‘mystical death’ when reciting the prayer “Tachanun” which follows the Shemoneh Esrei (Eighteen Benedictions) in the prayer service. According to the Zohar, when reciting this supllicatory prayer the individual must regard himself “as if he has departed this world, and has separated himself from the Tree of Life and died near the Tree of Death” (Zohar 3: 120b-121a, Fine, p. 240). Fine points out that at this “vulnerable moment” the petitioner is ready to accept the consequences of his sin in death itself. It was customary amongst the mystics to prostrate themselves and appears as if dead when reciting this prayer. Luria interpreted the Zohar’s prescription here as a call for the adept to descend to the lowest depths of the lowest world of Assiyah, the realm of the Sitra Achra (the “Other Side), the Kellipot and evil. Fine also points out that there is an erotic, almost orgasmic, aspect to to this ritual that results in a spiritual depletion akin to death, as once the mystic descends he is enjoined to concentrate upon gathering the “female waters” and divine sparks concealed in this lower realm, facilitating their liberation and ascent by attaching them to his own soul (and thereby aiding in the cosmic reunification of the male and female aspects of God). The adept’s descent into the world of the Kellipot, his sojourn into the realm of death is an act of self-sacrifice that is made in order to rescue and liberate sparks of holiness from evil’s grip (p. 243). Fine points out, however, that in making this descent the adept must be careful to avoid becoming permanently enmeshed in the realm of death and evil. Only the truly righteous should risk engaging in this dangerous ritual. However, according to Moses Yonah, one of Luria’s disciples and expositors, one who successfully completes this ritual is as one who has been created anew after having died and left this world. He achieves a new level of spirituality from which he can resist the temptations of sin and penetrate the mysteries of the Torah. At the same time this ritual facilitates the healing of the cosmos by liberating the divine sparks from their imprisonment in the realm of the Kellipot. The Hasidim had held that one should not attempt to suppress one’s “strange thoughts” (for example thoughts that one should abandon faith and Torah or engage in illicit sexual relations) but rather should to focus upon them and mentally attach them to their sefirotic point of origin (for example, illicit passion, like all love, originates in the Sefirah Chesed). Some Hasidic masters even held that one should intentionally explore the strange thoughts associated with each sefirah, and find them within oneself in order that they might be sublimated and elevated into the spiritual realm. These early Hasidim, held the world, even its so-called negative aspects, is sacred a, and that all things and all experiences, even those that might induce a “dark night of the soul” are an opportunity for an encounter with God. Interestingly, David Bakan, in his book, Sigmund Freud and the Jewish Mystical Tradition, argues that Freud, by delving into the depths of the unconscious, continued this Kabbalistic/Hasidic tradition of “descent for the purpose of ascent.” I am in the process of exploring
the idea (and experience) that psychoanalysis--broadly conceived-- is
(paradoxically) a secular vehicle for achieving the sort of spiritual depths
that were available to pre-modern adepts only through piety, meditation,
confession and prayer; a vehicle that amongst other things allows one the
freedom of unencumbered, even infinite speech and dialog, that assists one in
liberating the “sparks” from one’s own psyche, and permits a full, open and
meaningful exploration of one’s personal “dark night of the soul,” but I will
leave my comments on this theme for another day. Further Thoughts on “Nothingness”:
From Charles Coon Dear Sanford, Since writing last, I have read
much of Franklin Wolff's primary writing (Experience
and Philosophy) together with Thomas McFarlane's article (The Heart of Franklin Merrell-Wolff's Philosophy- note
available on the web http://www.integralscience.org/wolffsheart.htm).
Additionally, I have reviewed your article on your website, Ein-Sof, Nothingness and the Problem of Creation Ex
Nihilo. So I thought
I would send a few comments leading to the difficult subject of
creation Ex Nihilo. Wolff's
"Consciousness-without-an-object,” it seems to me, might be
considered in an analogous manner to the Ein-Sof. He says that this Consciousness is neither
Being nor non-Being, and generally represents a transcendence which is
unaffected by the relative subject-object universe. Wolff says that
the universe is produced by a process of negation, and then he comes
close to what you say in your article, in referencing Schneur
Zalman's thought, about whether the world appears as Yesh or nothingness,
depending from where one is looking. From a perspective of Recognition
(Wolff), or transcendence, the world appears as nothingness. Is this
observation or projection of nothingness related to the creative
process? To Tzimtzum? In considering
that creation starts with a negation, might it also
be considered that this very negation has a "something" aspect
which is also present, and this coincidence could be a way to
interpret creation Ex Nihilo. One
of Wolff's aphorisms is: "24. All objects exist as tensions
within Consciousness-without-an-object that tend ever to flow into their own
complements or others." Might we say then that the
negation connected with creation flows into a something, which
flows into nothing, which flows into something, ad infinitum? (revelation and concealment?) In this way the coincidence of opposites
would have a role in creation. Which brings to mind Thomas McFarlane's
article (a great article I think), and his Illustrations and Exercises
discussion, following Wolff, of the coexistence of objective and
non-objective consciousness. Perhaps another way of saying that negation and
objects, as complements, might be recognized (Recognized?) in
either or both aspects (again revelation and concealment).
The role of the observer or creator would then be a critical matter. Response Your notion that “negation connected with creation flows into a something, which flows into nothing which flows into something, ad infinitum” is present in the Lurianic Kabbalah’s three moments of negation and their complementary affirmations. The dynamics of the Lurianic system turn on these alterations: the original Ayin, which flows seamlessly into Ein-sof’s very being, the Tzimtzum (Contraction) which becomes the condition for the being of the world, and Shevirah (Breakage) which sets the stage for the world’s redemption in Tikkun hao-Olam. For Luria, the entire cosmogenic process is one that originates in negation. I have some further thoughts regarding Ein-sof and nothingness, which I had in connection with my reading of Daniel Matt’s interesting paper on Ayin, that will share below: Divine Forgetting, Forgetting Divine The
Kabbalists, showed a remarkable tendency to negate and invert the traditional order of discourse and reason.
For example, Shimon Labis in Ketem Paz
wrote, “Concerning everything that cannot be grasped its question is its answer.” (see Daniel Matt, “Ayin: The Concept of
Nothingness in Jewish Mysticism,” in Essential Papers on Kabbalah,
Lawrence Fine, ed. New York: New York
University Press, 1995, p. 96, note 37). Indeed, as I pointed out in Symbols
of the Kabbalah (pp. 206-7), the Kabbalists occasionally regarded the Sefirot, the constituents of God and
the world as “questions” and therefore developed the foundation for an
interrogative as opposed to a propositional metaphysics. For the Kabbalists understanding the divine may then require acts such as questioning (without answering) and forgetting (rather than remembering). Since the divine is unknown, unnamable, and identified with no-thing, the epistemological categories that pertain to it are absence rather than presence and forgetfulness rather than memory. According to David ben Judah ha-Hasid “The Cause of Causes...is a place to which forgetting and oblivion pertain...nothing can be known of It, for It is hidden and concealed in the mystery of absolute nothingness. Therefore forgetting pertains to the comprehension of this place” (Matt, “Ayin: The Concept of Nothingness,” p. 81). Rabbi David’s point seems to be that while for all other things one knows by remembering, i.e. by having one’s object of knowledge present before one’s mind’s eye, in the case of Ein-sof, the proper vehicle of contemplation is “forgetting,” an intentional unknowing. One thinks one has something in mind, something to ask, something to say, and suddenly it has disappeared, one realizes that one has forgotten. That experience, that mode of awareness, that forgetting, is somehow akin to what one must achieve in “contemplating” Ein-sof. The contemplation of Ein-sof is not of a presence, but rather the reverse, of a complete absence, a complete lack of knowledge; not a studied unknowing, but the absence of memory, an “I forgot,” and perhaps even a “Forget I,” a self-forgetting. A similar idea is present in the Kabbalist’s Ezra and Azriel, who speak of the highest contemplation as a fisat ha-mahashavah, an “annihilation of thought (Matt, “Ayin: The Concept of Nothingness”, p. 82). The Undying nature
of Symbols and Metaphors? Dialog With Gary Jaron 7-27-04
Metaphors & symbols are better means to communicate
than explicit discursive non-symbolic language. Thinking only
symbolically is not effective either. You need a mix. A 'mature'
thinker uses both, and so does a 'mature' civilization. Using symbols
not a sign of regression. A culture that only lives in the world of symbols and
metaphors will not make science and hence will be an 'immature'
culture. [The very use of the words 'mature - immature' is an act of
using metaphoric language!] A science will cease to be creative if it ceases to find
new metaphors and symbols by which it can explore and answer those unanswered
questions of how the universe works. The myth of creation that was started in the Zohar and
Luria expanded is a myth that still has power - your book is an example of
that power. Symbols and metaphors are part of the unconscious
language. Jung and Giegerich are correct. But, this is not
primitive in a historic sense. It is not something we as a culture outgrow or
outgrew. That notion is incorrect. Metaphors and symbols are 'primitive'
in the sense of being part of our thought processes that we developed prior
to the more formal systems of logical and analysis, that non-symbolic
discursive language. We can not think new thoughts or ideas without symbols
and metaphors. When we are inspired to make use of symbols and/or a
metaphors it is an example of our unconscious thought processes trying to
communicate with our conscious mind! They are literally the gifts of
the Muses. I found your recent dialog with Michael Hoppe interesting,
especially with reference to his comment on Walt Whitman, and Whitman's
famous line, "Do I contradict myself?...." I am participating
in a poetry discussion group this summer and the first poet we are
considering is Walt Whitman. I thought I would send along a few
comments on Whitman which come to mind in relation to your New Kabbalah, and
the coincidentia oppositorum. Whitman's Leaves of Grass was published in its final form
in 1892, after a lifetime of revision. It might be said that his life
was a creative process which can be seen as a continuing shattering and
restoration of his book, a book which he thought of as a companion and
a person. The process only stopped with his death, but
seemingly would have continued indefinitely, to the end of his
life. Reminds me of your article on the creative writing process
in which many Kabbalistic elements are present. In Song of Myself, Whitman considers the meaning of
grass, "A child said What is the grass? fetching it to
me with full hands; How could I answer the child? I do not know
what it is any more than he." Grass seems to represent the
unknowable. He guesses that "the grass is itself a child...or a
uniform hieroglyphic...Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow
zones..." Grass, to Whitman, seems perhaps to suggest an image of
God, a language underlying everything, and God in a macrocosmic as well as a
microcosmic sense. Later he says, " I believe a leaf of grass is no
less than the journey-work of the stars." Whitman seems to relate to the idea of the unity of the
knower, the known, and the act of knowing in many places, for example, also
in Song of Myself, "To me the converging objects of the universe
perpetually flow, All are written to me, and I must get what the writing
means." Additionally, his attempt to identify much of the
detail of the world within this poem, details he finds within
himself, expresses such unity.
And then about evil in Myself, Whitman says, "I am
not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness
also...Evil propels me and reform of evil propels me, I stand
indifferent,..." Perhaps a statement of the coincidentia of
evil and good, and the transformation of evil into good. Then, there is this in which Whitman seems to be considering
himself in an Adamic and Seferotic way, "Divine am I inside and
out...If I worship one thing more than another it shall be the spread of my
own body, or any part of it...Dazzling and tremendous how quick the sun-rise
would kill me, If I could not now and always send sun-rise out of me...We
also ascend dazzling and tremendous as the sun...With the twirl of my tongue
I encompass worlds and volumes of worlds..." Whitman's mention of his internal
"contradictions," as cited by Michael Hoppe, seems
to be the most direct indication of the coincidentia oppositorum as
central to his person and thought. Then, Whitman's When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd,
one might start in many places to show the unity and blending of his
thought. The hermit bird, whose death song is "Sadly
sinking and fainting,...and yet again bursting with joy. So I guess that I would urge any visitors to your website to read the best and powerful poetry of Whitman and note the relationship to the New Kabbalah, and especially the underlying coincidentia oppositorum in many of these poems. Charlie Coon The Paradox of
Giving and Receiving (5/04) Dear Dr. Drob, I have just finished your wonderful,
comprehensive book Symbols of the Kabbalah and enjoyed it so much I
have ordered Kabbalistic Metaphors and eagerly look forward to reading
it as well. The breadth and depth of your approach is truly
inspiring. Some of versions of the Lurianic
creation story I have read include an aspect you did not touch upon in your
book and I am wondering if you have any comments on it from a philosophical
or psychological perspective. I ask because it involves a fascinating paradox
and you have such a keen appreciation of the 'coincidence of
opposites.' I'm sure you already are aware of this version (which
I encountered in The Way by Michael Berg and Rav P.S. Berg's The
Essential Zohar; I gather it has come through the teachings of Rabbi
Yehuda Ashlag, but I haven't yet read any of his writings). (For simplicity's sake, I will
refer to the Vessel as singular, which is how I first encountered it in these
readings.) According to what I read, there was the original, primordial creation
of the Vessel (ex niliho) which
received the Light of the Creator. They originally existed in perfect
harmony. The perfect giver and the perfect receiver. But, in the same
way a glass will warm up when you pour hot liquid into it, the Vessel
took on the qualities of the Light of the Creator -- of wanting to give, to
create. This caused a paradox within the Vessel: it was designed as the
perfect receiver and yet it now wants, also, to give. To create. In an
attempt to resolve this paradox, the Vessel pulled back against the
Light and this, in turn, caused the Creator to withdraw, to contract.
The vessel immediately realized its "mistake" and the Light came
back in and then the shattering occurred. I find it fascinating, the
notion of tzimtzum taking place in reaction to the Vessel
pushing away in its attempt to resolve a paradox, the paradox of
receiving and giving. Passive and active. Especially, as you
demonstrate in Symbols, the Lurianic Kabbalah is all about coincidentia
oppositorum. Do you know where this version
of creation originates? If you have any comments on it at all,
especially any psychological dimensions, I would be most appreciative.
Psychologically we are taught to build a container in which opposites can
co-exist -- and here it is being shattered in the primordial beginnings. When I first encountered this
story of creation, tzimtzum, the shattering of the vessel(s) (and,
later, the restorative tikkun), it had a profound impact on me; in
addition to thinking about it as a story of something that happened, in the
past tense, at the beginning of creation, I also realized it is
happening, now, in the present tense, deep within my psyche. Paradox
and creation, here and now. That's why it is so great to come across your
writings and your 'rational-mystical' approach which is teaching me a way to
reconcile similar, seemingly opposing tensions within
myself. (I am reminded of Walt Whitman's "Do I contradict
myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. I am large. I contain
multitudes!") Your writings help to unite the multitudes. Meanwhile, I hope that your book
on Jung and Kabbalah is finding a publisher! I will be purchasing a
copy. Thank you for your excellent
contribution. I'm so glad I happened upon your website. Respectfully yours, Michael David Hoppe Victoria, B.C. Canada Response: Dear Michael Hoppe: Re: Kabbalah and Orthodoxy
(3/30/04) My wife, Bracha and I (Sheldon Stern) enjoyed hearing you speak last Friday night at the Park Slope Jewish Center. I do have a question from your talk... Your mentioned how Chasidus uses Kabbalah in its orientation. Are you limiting this to Lubavitch or are you talking about Chasidus in general and includes most sects or all sects of Chasidus from the Belz, to Satmar, Munkash, Bobover etc? What is the relationship between Chasidus and Kabbalah and did this emerge as part of Chasidus? Should we all not become Chasidim? I've met many Chasidim and find them most hospitable .... I'm just curious how Kabbalah enters into their lives or do they think of it. The emphasis has always been on Gemorrah and Torah Learning. This emphasis creates the foundation upon which probably Kabbalah can be understood. I'm sure you’re aware of the tradition that only Rabbi Akiva came out unscathed from its study while Alisha Ben Avuyah the teacher of Rav Meir became known as Acher and left the fold after learning Kabbalah, and another went insane. So the tradition was that you had to be at least 40 years old, have learned all of Shash (entire Talmud) and married. My impression of learning Kabbalah before learning Aleph Bet namely a rich Jewish Knowledge of Torah or Tanach and Gemorrah is like learning Calculus before learning how to add two and two. I' m interested in your response.
Sincerely,
Sheldon B. Stern, Psy.D.
Sanford Drob’s
Response
It was very nice meeting you and your wife on Friday
night. Sheldon Stern
responds:
Years ago when I became "frum" at the age of 15/16 after meeting Steve Riskin, "Stevy Wonder" I call him, of course it is now Rabbi Shlomo Riskin. I heard him discuss the revelation of G-d on Mt. Sinai and along with my own concerns about death and dying, waking up with cold sweats just out of my own fears of finality, and what he said was quite important at the time. Through Halacha from Holaych, one walks and gets close to Hashem by the mitzvahs just Moses saw the "Back" of G-d. However, as I matured in college to an extent, I took on the study of psychology because I really saw it as a parallel to Judaism. Just as Judaism looks at the Holy of Holies the most sacred of places, so also I look at dealing with patients and the human mind as the Holy of Holies and one must treat it as a sacred allowance to deal with the inner dynamics, thoughts, behaviors, feelings etc the patient presents. I see no contradiction between the two. Ultimately between psychology, Judaism, Talmud and Kabbalah there appears to be a unity of spirit in terms of coming to terms with the sacredness of life and all things regardless of their triviality as in your displayed example on Friday night of the styrofoam cup having Chesed. But the ultimate goal appears to be what Maslow called, "Self Actualization." but in a spiritual sense that pervades one's relationship to the "all." I do not consider myself as a Talmud Chochom and that is for sure! The minutia of Gemora can be quite taxing and boring and the way that Orthodoxy is going today to the far right is very distressing for me. Because just as the Talmud is an ongoing discourse on the Law with arguments and counter arguments with on ongoing respect for opposite opinions with a thesis (Mishnah) and antithesis (argumentation) and finally the thesis V'Chain Halacha just as in Hegel's dialectical materialism. But I do not see the same respect with the right of Orthodoxy. We Jews are minority let alone Orthodoxy being a minority within a minority and its quite sad to me that we always appear to do quite well and alienating ourselves from each other let alone the non-Jews of the world. Maybe its time for Orthodoxy to deal more effectively with the Midos inherent in Talmud such as in Pirkei Avoth and also review the Kabbalah as a core of faith and spirituality in the doing of the Mitzvahs and that the duality should be inherent and synthesized in Judaism's practice. The Midoth have been missed in terms of translating the Halacha on an interpersonal level. I see constant judgments made of others observance…This is the pilpulism you talked about wherein the person as a person is bypassed with its place being the minutia of observance. I know the Vilna Gaon was quite the enemy of the Chassidim but there was a need for them because Jews were alienated from Judaism then precisely for the same reason they are alienated from Orthodoxy. Sanford Drob
responds:
Re: Dennis McCort’s “Going Beyond
the Pairs” 2/25/04 Dear Sanford, I have completed reading the
book you mentioned in a previous email, Dennis McCort's Going Beyond the Pairs, and found
it most illuminating. The parallels with your work, particularly
your theme of rational mysticism, seem to be very much evident. I
would be interested to see any observations you might have on
McCort's essay on Franklin Merrell-Wolff. Especially, Merrell-Wolff's
fifty-six aphorisms. The manner in which the aphorisms are broken
down---the first five are "pre-manifestation," aphorisms 6 through
50 are a second phase and express "manifestation," number
51 is "recapitulation," and, finally the "triumphant
return" of the final five aphorisms---seem to parallel quite closely
Kabbalah symbols and categories. I think McCort must not be
aware of the centrality of the coincidentia
oppositorum in the Kabbalah, with only the one brief
reference in his book. But the best aspect of the book, in my view,
is the coincidentia and the
struggles of the writers and thinkers to experience it. And then the
Joy that comes when It is Recognized, to use Merrell-Wolff's term.
McCort notes that Merrell-Wolff wrote that "a brief experience of
this Joy would be worth any effort and any amount of suffering that could be
packed into a lifetime..." Amazing! He also says that
Merrell-Wolff is "an undiscovered Master." (I enjoyed this
essay enough to order a copy of Wolff's Pathways.)
Absolutely no hurry Sanford, but I will look forward to any comments you
might have on this book. Hope all is going well in your work. Charlie Coon Response: Kabbalah and the Coincidence of Opposites Dear Charlie Thanks so much again for your observations. I agree that Merrell-Wolff’s aphorisms seem to follow a trajectory that parallels the Lurianic dynamic and I will have to take a closer look at them with this idea in mind. With regard to McCort and the Kabbalah, he does suggest that the “Zen-like style and spirit” of Kafka’s short-fiction “can be at least partly accounted for by his immersion in the lore of his Hasidic Jewish background” (Going Beyond the Pairs, p. 15, cf. p. 78). I should point out that within the fabric of Jewish Mysticism the idea of the coincidence of the opposites reaches its fullest expression in the thought of the Chabad Chasidim. There can be little doubt that an intuition of the coincidence of opposites is emblematic of mystical experience. As William James, W.T. Stace and others pointed out long ago, mystics of varying religious and even non-religious backgrounds and persuasions speak of a falling away of distinctions and a blending of opposites that is both supremely joyful and spiritually illuminating. In particular, the distinctions between mind and nature, between ego and non-self and between self and God have been described. However, the question that has preoccupied me in my work, which has been inspired by the appearance of the coincidentia idea in Jewish mysticism, is as you recognize, whether there is a rational or intellectual path to the mystical unity; whether such unity has certain derivatives and manifestations that can be intellectually grasped and understood. Hegel was probably the last great philosopher to hold that the identity of opposites could be demonstrated rationally, and his view that coincidentia oppositorum yielded a logical principle was treated with such scorn by the generation of philosophers to follow him that the idea of finding a rational/philosophical parallel to the mystic quest became an anathema to serious philosophers. Even Stace, a philosopher who was highly sympathetic to mysticism eventually came to the view that in trying to make a logic out of the coincidence of opposites Hegel fell “into a species of chicanery. For every one of his supposed logical deductions was performed by the systematic misuse of language, by palpable fallacies, and sometimes, as Russell has pointed out, by simply punning on words.” (W.T. Stace, Mysticism and Philosophy, p. 213). Stace, who early on wrote a sympathetic, and now much maligned book on Hegel’s system, gave up the idea that coincidentia oppositorum could be shown to be a rational principle, holding that “the identity of opposites is not a logical, but definitely an alogical idea” (ibid.). Later philosophers, such as Merrell-Wolff, who have considered the verities of mysticism from a rational, philosophical point of view, have had to find their homes outside of academic philosophy, or been relegated to the academic fringe. My own teacher, J.N. Findlay who was applauded for his descriptive books on Meinong, Hegel, and Plato, was barely humored for his original rational-mystical works (The Discipline of the Cave, The Transcendence of the Cave). It is thus with a certain trepidation that I have attempted to introduce into my own work the idea that certain of, if not all, the polar opposites of western metaphysics and psychology are mutually interdependent in a manner that can be understood on a rational level. I recently published an analysis of seven polar opposites that I believe are foundational in psychology and attempted to show how positions taken by various theoreticians with respect to these opposites [(1) free will vs. determinism, (2) materialism vs. phenomenology, (3) reductionism vs. emergent properties, (4) public vs. private criteria, (5) individual vs. system (6) facts vs. interpretations and (7) knowledge vs. unknowability] generate the variety of psychological schools and are responsible for psychologies perpetually fragmented state. I proposed that by understanding these oppositions as mutually dependent ideas, i.e. as examples of coincidentia oppositorum, we can move towards an appreciation of the human psyche as a whole. I tried to argue, for example, that public (behavioral) criteria for the use of psychological language is interdependent with private (introspective) criteria, and that thus two competing points of view on the nature of (and usefulness of the concept) of mind are completely dependent upon one another. I can email you this article. I hope that I was not engaging in a “species of chicanery” or “word play” in suggesting these psychological coincidentia. I, further, believe that a coincidentia oppositorum can be demonstrated with regard to other, more metaphysical and theological polarities, including God and humanity, theism and atheism, identity (or unity) and difference, etc., and this is the direction of much of my current thinking. I was very happy to see McCort take the coincidence of opposites seriously in an academic/philosophical context, and was especially excited to be introduced by McCort to the work of Merrell-Wolff, with whom I sense a kindred spirit. But even they, correct me if I am wrong, hold that the coincidence of opposites can only be mystically experienced and not demonstrated through logic. McCort (p. 95) says that he “attempts to…come as close as language allows” to describing the coincidence of opposites, but in the end holds that it is in the realm of the unsayable. Merrell-Wolf’s aphorisms are an articulation in philosophical terms of the implications of mystical experience and not as I read them (some of McCort’s glosses to the contrary), an effort to ascend to the absolute through purely rational/philosophical means. My own views differ somewhat from McCort’s, who seems to hold that the “primal unity” intuited by the mystics is a coincidentia oppositorum. He states, for example that the coincidence of opposites is “the most fundamental archetype,” that it is “prior to all phenomena,” and “it is the no thing that makes everything possible.” (p. 5). My view at present is that the coincidence of opposites is actually a symptom of the primal unity’s sundering into phenomena, The primal unity itself knows no opposition and is therefore in no need of reconciliation. The concept of opposition does not apply to the primal unity but only to the sundered, finite world of everyday experience. Thus the coincidence of opposites is something that applies to our world of opposition and strife and not to the primal unity itself. Indeed, we might say that the coincidence of opposites is the trace or echo of the primal unity in our finite world. I am of course speaking somewhat metaphorically here, but in understanding the interdependence of seemingly opposite ideas I think we can retrace the steps of the primal unity as it fell into finitude and was sundered into phenomena. I think it is the primal unity that is in the realm of the un-sayable, but that the coincidence of opposites can be expressed in language: not only through paradox and what I call “bilinear thinking,” but through articulating the conceptual interdependence of presumably opposing ideas. I think it is possible, for example, to even articulate in language the interdependence of subject and object, words and things (the signifier and the signified), and identity and difference, polarities that seem to underlie many of other bipolar distinctions and philosophical controversies. I also believe that it is possible to articulate the interdependence between such philosophical views that “the signified is another signifier” and “signified and signifier are and must remain distinct.” As is the case with psychology I believe that supposedly opposing views in philosophy are dependent upon the truth of their presumed opposites. I have no illusion of proving this (since any proof might well generate an opposite view that itself would be true) but I am working on the direction of a general demonstration. Sanford Drob Re: Jung and the Kabbalah From Charles Coon 12/27/03 I just want to say once
more how fortunate I feel to have discovered your New Kabbalah website.
I am relatively new to Kabbalah and find your depth and clarity to be
wonderful… In reading your article on Jung and the Kabbalah I recalled
Harold Bloom's writing in his recent Genius. He says (p. 11)
"Fierce originality is one crucial component of literary genius, but
this originality itself is always canonical, in that it recognizes and comes
to terms with precursors." His statement seems applicable to Carl
Jung, with reference to Jung's effort to be original in the face of
his debt to the Kabbalah. In other of Bloom's works he seems to be
saying that originality is extremely difficult in light of a strong
literary precursor. I guess that's it for now. Again, Dr. Drob,
many thanks for your website. Charlie Coon Response 12/28
From: Charles Coon 12/31/03 Dear
Sanford: One more quick comment on
the Jung issue. I suppose that all of the "influences" one is
exposed should be considered, in a real sense, as "raw materials"
which we use in our creative endeavors. Re: Mars Landing and the Kabbalah. From: Charles Coons, Monday, January 05, 2004 9:20 PM Subject: Mars Landing I watched the PBS NOVA program last evening on the successful Mars landing by the "Spirit" spacecraft, and I thought that the "search for life" may be an interesting New Kabbalah topic. The scientific and engineering skills of the crew, and their emotions (elation and fear) during the intense six-minute landing were interesting to watch. Previous successful missions to Mars, which were fewer than the unsuccessful ones, were deficient, as reported in NOVA, in terms of "science return." So we might say that the new mission was designed with a renewed scientific "will" which, however, had to be tempered with engineering knowledge concerning risk and probabilities of success. So these two technical activities took place in an opposing or dialectical manner, and an appropriate spacecraft was thereby created which served their needs. Looking at the space program more broadly, might we say that the tragedies of the space shuttles are analogous to "Breaking of the Vessels" and a "Tikkun" mending may be underway, perhaps a mending which is emphasizing unmanned technology? At a different level, the NOVA program showed a similar analogy in the wind and gravity forces which initially broke the landing parachute and the ballooning devices, and a restoration was necessary to demonstrate that, at least by tests on earth, that the equipment as a system would work properly. Finally, an analogy might be drawn concerning the search for life in general. The Science publication (vol 303, p59) reports that only one-tenth of the stars in our galaxy might provide the right conditions to support life, and that based on very conservative parameters, a "galactic habitable zone" for the Milky Way has been defined. The Mars mission used only the criteria of a possible earlier presence of water to decide where to look for life. The criteria will no doubt need to be expanded in the future. It seems that what may be at play here is God's desire for self-awareness, and all of these efforts might be considered to be contributory to an evolutionary increase of this Awareness. Response: What I find most interesting are your comments about the literal Breaking of the Vessels with the space shuttle, which possibly brought about a Tikkun, emendation or repair in the space program. I think that the entire dynamic from Ein-sof through Tzimtzum, Sefirot, Shevirah and Tikkun articulates the creative process in general, and it is hardly surprising to find rupture (Shevirah) and emendation (Tikkun) in virtually every successful endeavor. With respect to God’s increase in self-awareness, one might say that the great obstacles to travel, discovery, and understanding posed by the physical universe, provide the ideal setting to push “mind” or “spirit” to the utmost limits of its capabilities; in Hegelian terms conditioning the progress of the world-spirit and “Absolute” and in Kabbalistic terms, actualizing the potential of Ein-sof, and developing the Sefirot (e.g. wisdom, knowledge and understanding) to their greatest level of actuality. The same, of course, can be said of all challenges to human enterprise and creativity: the challenges associated with disease, war, inhumanity, etc., each of which bring humanity to the “brink,” imposing a real chance of disaster, but also providing the possibility that the sefirotic qualities that are said by the Kabbalists to be the traits of God and the archetypal components of the world will be actualized to their fullest. As Adin Steinsaltz has put it, only a world on the brink, one in which there is a genuine possibility of failure but within which there is yet hope, can be a world in which creation is actualized to its fullest. Such a world, the worst of all possible worlds in which there is yet hope, can become the best of all possible worlds—in which divinity/humanity is most fully realized. When I think of the vastness of the astronomical cosmos and the challenges it poses to human knowledge and enterprise I am reminded of Rav Steinsaltz’s theorem. Sanford Drob Re: Nanotechnology and Kabbalah: From:
Charles Coon 1/12/04 Here are a few more thoughts on technology, or more specifically the advance of technology in a Tikkun context. Nanotechnology is portrayed in the press as one of the next technological leaps, which will transform life on earth in countless ways including the manufacture of products using atoms and molecules as building blocks, and such things as nanocomputers and nanocameras which increase thinking capacity and move through bloodstreams for medical diagnostic purposes. What is involved is the manipulation of matter at the atomic level, and the main promoter of this technology, Dr. K. Eric Drexler, speaks of using tools at the molecular level almost like we speak of the use of tools in our garage tool chest! Apparently one of the key strengths of nanotechnology, but also a significant danger, is the possibility of evolution and replication of small-sized robots (perhaps with evil intentions), and the possibility of multiplying out of control, resulting in "a microscopic mechanical cancer," according to Kenneth Chang, writer for the New York Times (December 9, 2003). The popular writer, Michael Crichton's novel, Prey, treats the possibility of this technology going awry in this way. So we might say that the Tikkun (restoration) aspect of technology is almost simultaneously opposed by a Shevirah (Breaking of the Vessels) aspect. Since the start of the industrial revolution (and prior in more primitive settings), advances were always accompanied by negativities: dangers inherent in the automobile, industrial destruction of the environment, etc. Perhaps the Shevirah aspect is even stronger in consideration of the development of scientific byproducts such as weapons of mass destruction. Accordingly, a dialectical understanding encompassing both Tikkun and Shevirah, seems to be most appropriate here. And when the Shevirah aspect seem |