Archive for the ‘Eschatology’ Category
Philo’s Use of the Book of Psalms
Papyrus Fragment: LXX Psalm 88:4-8 (P.Duk.inv. 740), Duke University
AN EARLIER post suggested that Philo’s psychological method for interpreting the Pentateuch could be applied equally well to the Book of Psalms. Philo’s exegetical writings focus almost exclusively on the Pentateuch, citing each of its five books hundreds of times, and Genesis and Exodus more than the others. By comparison, he cites Psalms only about 25 times — although this is his next most common Old Testament source outside of the Pentateuch. A list of his references to verses from Psalms is appended to this article.
By examining how Philo himself uses Psalms, we can check our earlier hypothesis: when Philo cites verses from Psalms, does he find in them meanings consistent with his interpretations of Genesis, Exodus, and the other Pentateuch books? The answer is yes, and three representative examples are shown here.
1. Psalm 23:1. The LORD is my shepherd (Agricultura 50−54, Mutatione 105−120)
In his exegetical works, Philo twice refers to perhaps the most famous verse of Psalms, The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. (Ps 23;1; herein we shall use the King James Version translation and numbering). These occur in On Agriculture (De Agricultura) 49−54 and On The Change of Names (De Mutatione Nominum) 103−120.
In the former, he begins by explicitly stating that we may interpret the verse psychologically. God is the good shepherd, and different parts of the soul (psyche) are what need shepherding. Reliance on God’s guidance puts all parts of the soul under a common leader, so that they may operate harmoniously and effectively. Otherwise it is compelled to heed many different leaders with conflicting aims.
The Universe itself, Philo tells us, relies on God as its shepherd. The guiding influence comes not from God directly, but through the agency of his firstborn Son, the Logos, who governs all as though a great King. If this is true of the entire Universe, then each soul should likewise utter the same cry, “The LORD is my shepherd.” As long as ones soul follows the guidance of the King, it is not only harmonized within itself but aligned with the universal plan of God’s goodness. By Providence all things will work to good for the soul and all needs are supplied — such that it may then add with confidence, “and nothing shall I want.”
Philo’s second mention of Psalm 23:1 — longer, and more complex psychologically — occurs in On the Change of Names (De mutatione) 103−120. The context — as the title of the book implies — concerns a change of names: Moses’ father-in-law is called in Exodus both Jethro and Raguel or Rauel. We first learn that he is a priest of the Midianites. By Philo’s etymology, ‘Midian’ refers to judgment. (Philo’s etymologies are often notoriously idiosyncratic, but this association seems reasonable, as “Midian” does suggest an association with the proto-Indo-European roots *medyo– [‘middle’] and *me– [measure].)
Jethro first sends his seven daughters to water his sheep at a communal well. At the well they are harassed by wicked shepherds. Moses arrives on the scene and opposes these other shepherds. Jethro’s daughters then water their flock. Jethro is pleased to see them return sooner than usual and wonders why. When they explain what happened, he invites Moses into the clan, where he becomes the head shepherd. At this point, Philo tells us, Jethro’s name becomes Raguel, which means “the shepherding of God,” because now the daughters have “discarded their kinship with vanity” and have “resolved to become a part of the holy herd which is led by God’s Word.” This leads Philo to mention Psalm 23:1.
As for the psychological meaning, the seven daughters, Philo tells us, symbolize seven elemental powers (dunameis) of the soul: the five senses (aisthesis), the “reproductive power” (gyne) and “voice” (phone) (Mutatione 111). As the meanings of the last two powers aren’t fully clear, let’s consider here the five ordinary senses. These are sent by Jethro, the governing or father part of the mind in its worldly orientation (104), to water their sheep. There they fill the “troughs of the soul” — perhaps what we would call the sensorium, or, alternatively, centralized conscious experience (111). However this is opposed by the wicked shepherds, who symbolize disordered passions, “comrades of envy and malice” (112).
Moses, a teacher/leader/prophet mental disposition or sub-ego (see earlier post for discussion of these terms), discerns the nature of these opposing forces and prevails over them. In this way he functions symbolically as did Phineas (108), who, when an Israelite man slept with a Midianite woman, slew them both (Numbers 25:1–9) with a lance or sword that symbolizes discernment (cf. Philo, Allegorical Interpretation 3.242). The sense/daughters may then water their sheep and return to their mind/father who is now in a reformed condition and guided by God. Similarly, when passions dominate our mind — when we cling to them, as it were — sensation becomes impure and corrupted. The mind is now distracted, consciousness is divided, and sensation partial, fragmentary and unclear. When Moses overcomes the bad shepherds, sensation is restored to purity and the mind to its natural integrity.
We can find a modern parallel in Abraham Maslow’s (1971) distinction between what he called D-mode (Deficiency) and B-mode (Being) cognition. Whereas D-mode sensation regards objects as means to egoistic goals, Being cognition enjoys sensations purely and for their own sake, as ends in themselves. It corresponds to the unitive state described by Christian and other religious mystics. One is in the world but not of it (118).
When the daughters return to their father with alacrity they explain that this is not due to themselves, but through the agency of the Moses, an Egyptian. Moses is an incredibly important archetypal figure in Philo’s writings. He is not only a leader/prophet, but a Hebrew raised as a prince of Egypt (that is, both a ‘seer of God,’ yet also with an interest in the world of sense):
For the senses are on the border-line between the intelligible realm and the sensible, and all that we can hope is that they should desire both realms and not be led by the latter only. To suppose that they will ever give their affections to the things of mind only would be the height of folly, and therefore they give both titles. By the word ‘man’ [Ex. 2:20] they point out the world which reason alone discerns, by ‘Egyptian’ they represent the world of sense. (Mutatione 118; tr. Colson & Whitaker)
Perceptual experience in the properly oriented mental condition (Raguel) is more light and subtle, and at the same time more vital, detailed and nuanced. One may, say, savor a single sip of wine instead of gulping down an entire cup whilst already imagining a second one. This mode of perception does not weigh down consciousness or disrupt or distract higher cognitive powers. In this more peaceful frame of mind, one may also receive subtle thoughts and impulses that originate from ones higher nature. (120) One is able to recognize, profit from and enjoy the multitude of providential gifts God supplies (116).
2. Psalm 46:4. There is a river (Somniis 2.246− 2.300)
There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.
Our second example is Philo’s use of Psalms 46:4, There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High (KJV; LXX Ps. 45). He discuses this verse in On Dreams (De somniis) 2.246−254. The context is his analysis of Pharaoh’s dream of the seven fat and seven gaunt cattle (Gen. 4), which Joseph interpreted. In the dream, Pharaoh is standing by a river (And it came to pass at the end of two full years, that Pharaoh dreamed: and, behold, he stood by the river. Gen.41:1; KJV). Philo uses the opportunity to discuss the symbolic significance of rivers, contrasting two meanings, both allegorically understood to relate to the human soul and both being connected (though differently) with logos.
The first type of river is the constant flow of words or logoi of God, by which He providentially orders and directs all Creation, including the human soul. This is a very Stoic notion. For Philo, this activity is collectively directed by the Logos — understood as the Son or Chief Angel of God. This direction is manifest as discrete units, words or logoi. As they affect the human soul, Philo likens these to an irrigating river of Wisdom. In this discussion he alludes to the four rivers of Eden, a subject that figured prominently in his earlier work, Allegorical Interpretation 1.19.63−89. As we are told there, this separates into four rivers, corresponding to the four cardinal virtues, watering the Garden of Eden, which symbolizes the human mind filled with holy, virtuous and divine thoughts.
In contrast, a soul in the fallen condition is subject to a different kind of river: a flow or confused torrent of disruptive, distracting thoughts (logismoi). Philo sees an allegorical reference to this other river in Exodus 7:15 Behold, he is going forth to the river, and thou shalt stand in the way to meet him, on the bank of the River. This refers to that more famous Pharaoh with whom Moses contended in Exodus. There are, then, figuratively speaking, two rivers, and a principal ethical and spiritual task of ours is to orient our soul to the divine one. This is done by following Moses’ instruction to the Israelites, “Be still and hear” (σιώπα και άκουε; Deut. 27:9). This Philo understands to mean a state of pious humility and trust, leading to a quietude of mind and an ability to perceive God’s guidance.
Note also Philo’s likening the soul of the righteous person to a city of God. He is certainly aware of Plato’s city-soul analogy in the Republic, and makes frequent use of it in his works.
3. Psalm 31:18. Let lying lips be silenced (Confusione 21−40)
Let the lying lips be put to silence; which speak grievous things proudly and contemptuously against the righteous.
Philo mentions this verse in On the Confusion of Tongues (De Confusione). This work of Philo, which interprets the Tower of Babel story in Genesis, bears an especially strong connection with Psalms. The tower’s builders were punished by God by having their languages confused, which, understood psychologically, is the same as being scattered. Punishment of the wicked by scattering is mentioned in at least 10 different psalms.
Philo begins the discussion in On Confusion by noting that, while there are many evils in life capable of producing a painful and harmful upheaval of the psyche (wherein, among other things, it is easy prey to vice) the worst threat comes from evils produced from within the soul itself. He then reviews the familiar Platonic tripartite model of the psyche, with its appetitive, irascible and rational elements. Each of these is susceptible to its own mischiefs — both as it relates to itself and as it relates to the other elements. A breakdown of the rational element is the most dangerous, however, as this inevitably affects the integrity of the others. Philo likens the situation to a ship, where the steersman (rational nature), passengers (appetitive nature), and crew (irascible nature — the equivalent of Plato’s guardian class in the Republic) all cooperate in folly, leading to certain disaster. The mutiny may begin with the appetitive and irascible passions, which then seek to corrupt captain and steersman to effect their nefarious aims (cf. Plato’s ship analogy in Rep. 6.487–6.491a). Similarly, if physicians themselves become sick, it is much harder to control an epidemic.
Philo sees scriptural references to this negative alliance amongst mental powers in the story of the deluge, where the “cataracts” (plural) were opened, corresponding to a flooding torrent of multiple passions simultaneously. He also alludes to the confederation of heathen kings — enemies of Abraham — who met at the salt ravine (Gen. 14:3). And also the mob in Sodom who surrounded Lot’s house and threatened his guests (Gen. 19:4), allegorically understood as disordered passions “conspiring against the divine and holy Thoughts, who are often called angels” (Conf. 27f).
It is against such harmful thoughts that a distinctive leader/prophet mental disposition symbolized by Moses must stand to oppose. An analogy is drawn to Moses meeting Pharaoh at the edge (which, in Philo’s vernacular, is also called the “lips”) of a river (Ex. 7:15). Lips is an apt term, because the river is the flow of thoughts — which here are understood as mental speech or inner voices.
Moses stands by the river because he is stable, exemplifying the virtue of faith. The speech of the passions consists in part of sophistries which seek to justify or rationalize vicious behavior. These are reduced to silence by Moses, who demolishes them with clear reasoning. However in this work Moses cannot rely solely on his own power. Ultimately to defeat the sophistries of vice he needs the assistance of God. Therefore we must beseech God’s help, as in the psalmist’s words in this verse.
This is a particularly good example where Philo musters many verses from the Old Testament to support his argument. The allegorical meanings he gives these verses are not arbitrary or implausible. Rather, they rely on a consistent ethical and psychological model that combines Platonic psychology, Stoic ethics and Jewish piety before a personal God.
Conclusion
These examples demonstrate that Philo used the same hermeneutical approach to interpreting Psalms that he used for Genesis, Exodus, and the other books of the Pentateuch.
As noted in the previous article (Uebersax 2021), his model is consistent and representative of the perennial ascetical-mystical philosophy, Platonist/Stoic ethics, and certain modern theories of personality psychology. This is not a conclusion of mere academic interest. Rather, it has practical value in that it means we may ourselves continue and extend Philo’s exegetical work: we may apply the principles Philo demonstrates in his masterful interpretations of Genesis and Exodus, with no modification, to understand the Book of Psalms.
We should also note that Philo did not merely see Psalms as a text to be critically interpreted. As a devout, practicing Jew of Alexandria, he would have prayed and sang psalms regularly. Therefore his critical analysis would have been supported by an experiential understanding. We should always bear in mind that Philo was not only a philosopher, but a self-avowed mystic. He tells us, for example, that he has many times:
suddenly become full, the ideas falling in a shower from above and being sown invisibly, so that under the influence of the Divine possession I have been filled with corybantic frenzy and been unconscious of anything, place, persons present, myself, words spoken, lines written. For I obtained language, ideas, an enjoyment of light, keenest vision, pellucid distinctness of objects, such as might be received through the eyes as the result of clearest shewing. (Migratione 35)
Similarly, in Special Laws 3:1−6 he describes gaining spiritual wings and being “wafted by the breezes of knowledge.”
It must be emphasized that we are not discussing Philo as a sterile exercise in the history of religion. It is assumed, rather, that the ability to experience transcendent states of consciousness is something real and vitally important for us as human beings. Scriptures like the Book of Psalms are a repository of the spiritual wisdom of our ancestors from which we may draw. Philo himself gives us an example of how to make use of this wisdom: by an integrated approach that involves attentive reading, exegesis, intuition, and personal practice.
Update: Some time after writing this I learned of an article by David Runia, Philo’s Reading of the Psalms. It is difficult to find, but an abstract is here. Runia agrees that Philo uses the same exegetical method for Psalms as he does for the Pentateuch. He also suggests that Philo does not take advantage of the full spiritual potential of Psalms, perhaps because his thorough exegesis of the Pentateuch makes it unnecessary.
At the same time I found an article by Maren Niehoff, Paul and Philo on the Psalms. Interestingly, Niehoff suggests that “Philo uses the Psalms as a spiritual key to Genesis” (p. 401).
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References
Cohen, Naomi G. Philo’s Scriptures: Citations from the Prophets and Writings. Brill, 2007.
Colson F. H.; Whitaker, G. H.; Marcus Ralph (eds.). The Works of Philo. 12 vols. Loeb Classical Library. Harvard University Press, 1929−1953.
Maslow, Abraham H. The farther reaches of human nature. New York: Arkana, 1993 (first published Viking, 1971).
Niehoff, Maren R. Paul and Philo on the Psalms: Towards a Spiritual Notion of Scripture. Novum Testamentum 62.4, 2020, 392−415.
Runia, David T. Philo’s Reading of the Psalms. Studia Philonica Annual 13, 2001, 102–121.
Uebersax, John. On the psychological and sapiential meaning of the Book of Psalms. Christian Platonism website. 12 Dec 2021.
Uebersax, John. Psychological Allegorical Interpretation of the Bible. Camino Real, 2012.
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Appendix. Philo’s Quotations From Psalms
Psa 23:1
[1] The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
Agricultura 50−54
Mutatione 115
Psa 27:1
[1] The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the LORD is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
Somniis 1.75
Psa 31:18
[18] Let the lying lips be put to silence; which speak grievous things proudly and contemptuously against the righteous.
Confusione 39
Psa 37:4
[4] Delight thyself also in the LORD; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.
Plantatione 39
Somniis 2.242
Psa 42:3
[3] My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?
Migratione 157
Psa 46:4
[4] There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.
Somniis 2.246−254
Psa 62:11
[11] God hath spoken once; twice have I heard this; that power belongeth unto God.
Quod Deus 82
Psa 65:9
[9] Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it: thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of water: thou preparest them corn, when thou hast so provided for it.
Somniis 2.245
See Psa 46:4 above.
Psa 69:33
[33] For the LORD heareth the poor, and despiseth not his prisoners.
Questions and Answers on Genesis 4.147
Psa 75:8
[8] For in the hand of the LORD there is a cup, and the wine is red; it is full of mixture; and he poureth out of the same: but the dregs thereof, all the wicked of the earth shall wring them out, and drink them.
Quod Deus 77−82
Psa 78:49
[49] He cast upon them the fierceness of his anger, wrath, and indignation, and trouble, by sending evil angels among them.
Gigantibus 16f
Psa 80:5
[5] Thou feedest them with the bread of tears; and givest them tears to drink in great measure.
Migratione 157
See Psa 42:3 above.
Psa 80:6
[6] Thou makest us a strife unto our neighbours: and our enemies laugh among themselves.
Confusione 52−54
Psa 84:10
[10] For a day in thy courts is better than a thousand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness.
Quis heres 290
Psa 87:3
[3] Glorious things are spoken of thee, O city of God. Selah.
Confusione 108
See Psa 46:4 above.
Psa 91:11−12
[11] For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.
[12] They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
Quod Deus 182
Psa 94:9
[9] He that planted the ear, shall he not hear? he that formed the eye, shall he not see?
Plantatione 29
Psa 101:1
[1] I will sing of mercy and judgment: unto thee, O LORD, will I sing.
Quod Deus 74−76
Psa 115:5−8
[5] They have mouths, but they speak not: eyes have they, but they see not:
[6] They have ears, but they hear not: noses have they, but they smell not:
[7] They have hands, but they handle not: feet have they, but they walk not: neither speak they through their throat.
[8] They that make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them.
Decalogo 74
Psa 115:8
[8] They that make them are like unto them; so is every one that trusteth in them.
Specialibus legibus 2.255
Psa 115:17
[17] The dead praise not the LORD, neither any that go down into silence.
Fuga 59
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Psalm 45. The Mystical Marriage
Monastery of St. John the Baptist, Megara
PSALM 45 (Ps. 44 LXX) is another hidden gem. The Book of Psalms is a magnificent work — even by itself one of the greatest treatises on spiritual life we possess. The weakening of spiritual life in the West today is proportional to the loss in fervor with which people study and pray Psalms, which in previous centuries was a mainstay of Christian spiritual life. It’s not enough to read or hear isolated verses of Psalms during masses and liturgies. A thorough, attentive, and repeated reading of the whole work is needed. Only then may one recognize it as an organic unity with an express aim. That aim is to help effect a transformation of soul. Psalms not only give us a conceptual framework for understanding that process of transformation, but, insofar as we pray individual psalms (or perhaps sing them) devoutly and meditate on their meanings, it becomes a means of effecting that transformation.
The subject is a marriage involving the soul. The resemblance to the Song of Songs is evident and striking. It would be interesting to know which was written earlier: does the first epitomize the second, or the second expand the first?
To begin there is one verse of introduction, a masterpiece of economy and eloquence, and immediately rivets our attention on what is to follow:
[1] My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.
There is no doubt — on this virtually all commentators agree — but that this psalm does not describe any historical event, but its meaning is found in symbolism and allegorical interpretation. There are two principal figures in the psalm: the King, and the Bride.
The King
[2] Thou art fairer than the children of men: grace is poured into thy lips: therefore God hath blessed thee for ever.
[3] Gird thy sword upon thy thigh, O most mighty, with thy glory and thy majesty.
[4] And in thy majesty ride prosperously because of truth and meekness and righteousness; and thy right hand shall teach thee terrible things.
[5] Thine arrows are sharp in the heart of the king’s enemies; whereby the people fall under thee.
[6] Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever: the sceptre of thy kingdom is a right sceptre.
[7] Thou lovest righteousness, and hatest wickedness: therefore God, thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows.
[8] All thy garments smell of myrrh, and aloes, and cassia, out of the ivory palaces, whereby they have made thee glad.
The King here is almost universally understood to signify Christ. However, it’s also possible to understand the figure as symbolic of an Inner Christ within the soul. These two interpretations are not mutually exclusive, but to supply a satisfactory discussion of the relationship of Christ to the Inner Christ (however valuable that might be) is beyond the present scope. We may observe, though, that such a parallel is implied by the important Christian doctrine of theosis (becoming like God). Most unfortunate it is that this doctrine receives so little attention today outside the Orthodox Churches. We come to see, know and love God only to the degree that we become like Him. Our spiritual life is one of gradual coming to be like God, as we proceed from glory to glory. (2 Cor.3:18)
Of what, then, does the beauty of the King consist? We are told that He has the qualities of truth, meekness and righteousness. As we read and reflect on the psalm, we rediscover a great truth of our own soul: that we find this figure of supreme righteousness innately and irresistibly attractive. We cannot help but love deeply and intensely these divine virtues, because these also constitute the deepest nature of our own soul. We love in others what we treasure — sometimes without realizing it — in ourselves. Reading these verses and calling to our imagination a vision of this King, we are confronted with a great truth of our own soul: we love Righteousness and Moral Beauty — and far more so than anything related to the material world. This realization jolts us into a proper remembrance of our true nature.
Yet the King is not only great in moral beauty, but also awesome and sublime in a sense that is, we might say, terrifying. The very perfection of truth and righteousness which we admire in the King makes falsehood and wickedness perfectly unacceptable to Him. Hence He is also portrayed as taking an aggressive stance against evil. This creates a psychological paradox for us — one that, in a sense, is the same paradox inherent in that potent expression, fear of the LORD. The same pure King of Righteousness, whose beauty we find so irresistibly attractive, is also a source in like degree of great apprehensiveness. For we do not believe we are pure and holy. Even the best of us harbors a deep awareness of our carnal nature and selfish tendencies. As we are drawn toward the beautiful King, we recoil, as though feeling as St. Peter did when he said, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord. (Luke 5:8)
Therefore, while Christ, loving and patient, continually beckons us forward, saying, “Fear not! Come into your Father’s house, to the place that has been prepared for you,” we are divided. We wish both to proceed and to draw back, lest, coming into the presence of the Father, our sinful side will be seen and incur rejection and wrath.
This is an elemental conflict which must be resolved within the psyche of the devoted reader. The harder task, perhaps, is not so much the elimination of all sin, but to accept that God loves us completely despite our sins. This is a matter of great import. For insofar as guilt and shame dominates our mind, we will seek to by our own efforts to conquer sin — the polar opposite of what we need. But if we focus our attention on God’s generosity, understanding and love, we will see that it is by grace we are saved. So far from human understanding is this great truth!
The Bride
[9] Kings’ daughters were among thy honourable women: upon thy right hand did stand the queen in gold of Ophir.
[10] Hearken, O daughter, and consider, and incline thine ear; forget also thine own people, and thy father’s house;
[11] So shall the king greatly desire thy beauty: for he is thy Lord; and worship thou him.
[12] And the daughter of Tyre shall be there with a gift; even the rich among the people shall intreat thy favour.
[13] The king’s daughter is all glorious within: her clothing is of wrought gold.
[14] She shall be brought unto the king in raiment of needlework: the virgins her companions that follow her shall be brought unto thee.
[15] With gladness and rejoicing shall they be brought: they shall enter into the king’s palace.
[16] Instead of thy fathers shall be thy children, whom thou mayest make princes in all the earth.
[17] I will make thy name to be remembered in all generations: therefore shall the people praise thee for ever and ever.
The bride here has traditionally been given three alternative meanings: (1) the Church, (2) the soul, and (3) the Blessed Virgin Mary. Examples of all three interpretations can be found throughout ancient and medieval commentaries on the Song of Songs. The meanings overlap and are interact, so we need not worry overmuch about making an exact distinction among them. The Church, after all, is a collection of individual souls, and what applies to one, generally applies to the other. Similarly, the Blessed Virgin is frequently taken as a kind of ideal for the individual soul. This not withstanding, our focus of attention here is on the bride as an individual soul.
Why is the soul symbolized as a female figure, as it would seem to transcend distinctions of gender. Apparently what is symbolized is not the entire soul, but that part of it that is connected with such things as feeling, sensation, emotion and desiring. This affective soul (anima) would be the counterpart of another part of our soul, the intellective (animus). In that case, we might possibly interpret the King as a symbol of the animus, to which the anima soul is being united in some new and fundamentally improved way. Such an inner marriage has many archetypal counterparts in mythology (e.g., Martinus Capella’s Marriage of Philology and Mercury and Apuleius’ Marriage of Eros and Psyche), and some alchemical literature. A Jungian would see this as a representation of a conjiunctio or marriage of the conscious and unconscious psyche.
It is not correct for Christians to summarily and completely dismiss secular psychological or esoteric writers merely because they depart from orthodox Christianity. Even if they are merely half-right, we must pay attention to the half that is right. Just as St. Augustine in On Christian Doctrine reminds us to read Scripture charitably, so as to not miss important meanings, so the principle of charity applies to reading secular works and writings from other spiritual traditions.
That said, the orthodox Christian (or, for that matter Jewish) and the Jungian view produce two complementary psychological interpretations of the marriage. The former sees the mystical marriage as an ascent of human consciousness to God. The latter sees it as an integration of psychic functions that produce an intensification and revitalization of waking consciousness in and of this world — that is, attainment of what Abraham Maslow called Being-experience. Elsewhere I have suggested that Plato’s philosophy, as shown particularly in his myths, can be understood as helping to attain both: mystical ascent and Being-experience. These two meanings are not mutually exclusive, and there is much in the Gospel to suggest it is as much concerned with the latter as the former. The telos of Christian ethics must be complete and integral if it is to be satisfying and compelling.
To return to the psalm, the Queen has female attendants, which may symbolize particular powers or faculties of the soul. For example, they could mean the senses, or perhaps higher-level creative powers such as are symbolized in Greek myth by the Muses. Her garment of finest gold and its fine embroidery suggest a radiant and beautiful assortment of virtues.
The bride is told to leave her father’s land. Many commentators plausibly suggest that this refers to the soul leaving its natural homeland of attachment to sensory and worldly goods, and fixing its affection on spiritual things. (See excerpt from St. Ambrose below.)
In verse 11 we see that it is precisely because the soul rejects the worldly and turns to heavenly things that the King finds her beautiful. This is a key point, and a magnificent one. It addresses and solves the aforementioned paradox. Despite our fears and misgivings about being acceptable to God, we here are taught that we already possess, at least in potential, something that God treasures dearly. Our soul becomes not just good, but supremely beautiful — possessing the very kind of moral beauty that the King prizes — by making the moral choice to turn from flesh to spirit. We need not recoil from God due to an our awareness of sinfulness, for God has endowed us with a nature He finds supremely beautiful. We must constantly redirect our attention to that fact.
Attending the wedding as a guest is another female figure, the Queen of Tyre. Tyre is a Philistine (i.e., heathen) city — so this figure may indicate some ruling power or sub-personality (for clarification of these terms see my previous post on Philonic interpretation) concerned with worldly things. Significantly, this woman bears a gift. What that gift is we are not told, and it is up to us to learn experientially. It might involve the ability to enjoy sensory goods and pleasures to a far greater degree than we could before. That is, if we are attached to the senses, we cannot really enjoy their offerings, because we are divided: we are simultaneous aware of defection, of giving our allegiance to the wrong place, which degrades the integrity of consciousness and diminishes enjoyment. But if our allegiance remains in heaven, then we my touch the world of sense delicately, savoring it as we would the delicate scent of a rose, rather than dulling our senses with cheap perfume.
Princely offspring of the bride are also promised. Perhaps these would be intellectual activities, projects, and works initiated by the redeemed, reformed and divinized mind.
Conclusion
These are some possible interpretations. They are only tentative, approximate and suggestive — hints, hopefully to that fuller understanding attainable only by devout reading and meditation.
As said before, there is an important performative dimension to interpreting the psalms. Understanding comes more from praying than analyzing them. This is true generally of biblical exegesis, and perhaps especially the Wisdom Books. There is a self-referential or circular quality: by spiritual mindedness we understand the deeper meanings, and a main purpose of the Bible is to help us gain spiritual mindedness. Norris puts this well:
“[Gregory of Nyssa] says not only that the Song in some fashion narrates an exemplary soul’s progress in knowledge and love of God but also that readers of the Song may themselves, through their comprehension of it, be brought along as actual participants in the same progress. The text of the Song has a kind of symbolic or sacramental character, then, in that to understand it fully is to be involved with the reality it speaks of.” (p. xlv).
Similarly, Origen, in his Commentary on the Song of Songs, interprets the words behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves’ eyes (Song 1.15) to mean that the eyes of the exegete are illumined by the Holy Spirit and enabled to see spiritual meanings of Scripture. (Origen Comm. Cant. 3.1)
Thus it is not the purpose here or in other articles to replace the effort of each reader with formulaic interpretations.
Let us, then, simply close with a passage from St. Ambrose’s commentary on the Song (found in his work On Isaac, or the Soul) I encountered in preparing this article which seems very relevant:
(8.78) Let us then take up these wings, since like flames they aim for the higher regions. Let each man divest his soul of her baser coverings and approve her when she is cleansed of the mire just as he would approve gold cleansed by fire. For the soul is cleansed just like the finest gold. Moreover the beauty of the soul, her pure virtue and attractiveness, is her truer knowledge of the things that are above, so that she sees the good on which all things depend, but which itself depends on none. There she lives and receives her understanding. For that supreme good is the fountain of life; love and longing for it are enkindled in us, and it is our desire to approach and be joined to it, for it is desirable to him who does not see it and is present to him who sees it, and therefore he disregards all other things and takes pleasure and delight in this one only. …
Let us flee therefore to our real, true fatherland [cf. Plotinus, Enneads 1.6.5]. There is our fatherland and there is our Father, by whom we have been created, where there is the city of Jerusalem, which is the mother of all men. (8.79) … Let us flee with the spirit and the eyes and feet that are within. Let us accustom our eyes to see what is bright and clear, to look upon the face of continence and of moderation, and upon all the virtues, in which there is nothing scabrous, nothing obscure or involved. And let each one look upon himself and his own conscience; let him cleanse that inner eye, so that it may contain no dirt. For what is seen ought not to be at variance with him who sees, because God has wished that we be conformed to the image of His Son. … This is the eye that looks upon the true and great beauty. Only the strong and healthy eye can see the sun; only the good soul can see the good. Therefore let him become good who wishes to see the Lord and the nature of the good.
❧
References
Astell, Ann W. The Song of Songs in the Middle Ages. Cornell University Press, 1990.
McHugh, Michael P. (tr.). Saint Ambrose: Isaac, or the Soul (De Isaac vel anima). In: Michael P. McHugh (ed.), Saint Ambrose: Seven Exegetical Works, Fathers of the Church 65, CUA Press, 1972 (repr. 2010); pp. 9−65.
Lawson, R. P. (tr.). Origen: The Song of Songs Commentary and Homilies. Ancient Christian Writers 26. Newman Press, 1957.
Norris Jr., Richard A. (tr.). Gregory of Nyssa: Homilies on the Song of Songs. Society of Biblical Literature, 2012.
❧❧
Edward Herbert, Conjectures Concerning Heavenly Life
Edward Herbert (1583–1648)
THE eminent metaphysical poet, George Herbert (1593–1633), had an even more famous brother, Edward (1583–1648). Whereas George lived the life of a simple country parson, Edward was immersed in military and state affairs, first a friend of King James I (for which he was appointed 1st Baron Herbert of Cherbury) and later an opponent. But like George, he had great literary ability and was deeply pious. The following poem, composed originally in Latin, is a meditation on the possibility of infinite felicity in heaven, and what that might mean. The English translation comes from the well-known American Transcendentalist and literary figure, Margaret Fuller (1810–1850; more on her below). The Latin version can be found in Edward Herbert’s autobiography (ed. Horace Walpole) and his collected poems; links are supplied in the Sources section.
Conjectures Concerning the Heavenly Life (De Vita Cælesti Conjectura)
Purified in my whole genius, I congratulate myself
Secure of fate, while neither am I downcast by any terrors,
Nor store up secret griefs in my heart,
But pass my days cheerfully in the midst of mishaps,
Despite the evils which engird the earth,
Seeking the way above the stars with ardent virtue.
I have received, beforehand, the first fruits of heavenly life—
I now seek the later, sustained by divine love,
Through which, conquering at once the scoffs of a gloomy destiny,
I leave the barbarous company of a frantic age,
Breathing out for the last time the infernal air—breathing in the supernal,
I enfold myself wholly in these sacred flames,
And, sustained by them, ascend the highest dome,
And far and wide survey the wonders of a new sphere,
And see well-known spirits, now beautiful in their proper light,
And the choirs of the higher powers, and blessed beings
With whom I desire to mingle fires and sacred bonds—
Passing from joy to joy the heaven of all,
What has been given to ourselves, or sanctioned by a common vow.
God, in the meantime, accumulating his rewards,
May at once increase our honour and illustrate his own love.
Nor heavens shall be wanting to heavens, nor numberless ages to life,
Nor new joys to these ages, such as an
Eternity shall not diminish, nor the infinite bring to an end.
Nor, more than all, shall the fair favour of the Divine be wanting—
Constantly increasing these joys, varied in admirable modes,
And making each state yield only to one yet happier,
And what we never even knew how to hope, is given to us—
Nor is aught kept back except what only the One can conceive,
And what in their own nature are by far most perfect
In us, at least, appear embellished,
Since the sleeping minds which heaven prepares from the beginning—
Only our labor and industry can vivify,
Polishing them with learning and with morals,
That they may return all fair, bearing back a dowry to heaven,
When, by use of our free will, we put to rout those ills
Which heaven has neither dispelled, nor will hereafter dispel.
Thus through us is magnified the glory of God,
And our glory, too, shall resound throughout the heavens,
And what are the due rewards of virtue, finally
Must render the Father himself more happy than his wont
Whence still more ample grace shall be showered upon us,
Each and all yielding to our prayer,
For, if liberty be dear, it is permitted
To roam through the loveliest regions obvious to innumerable heavens,
And gather, as we past, the delights of each,
If fixed contemplation be chosen rather in the mind,
All the mysteries of the high regions shall be laid open to us,
And the joy will he to know the methods of God,—
Then it may be permitted to act upon earth, to have a care
Of the weal of men, and to bestow just laws.
If we are more delighted with celestial lave,
We are dissolved into flames which glide about and excite one another
Mutually, embraced in sacred ardours,
Spring upwards, enfolded together in firmest bonds,
In parts and wholes, mingling by turns,
And the ardour of the Divine kindles (in them) still new ardours,
It will make us happy to praise God, while he commands us,
The angelic choir, singing together with sweet modulation,
Sounds through heaven, publishing our joys,
And beauteous spectacles are put forth, hour by hour,
And, as it were, the whole fabric of heaven becomes a theatre,
Till the divine energy pervades the whole sweep of the world,
And chisels out from it new forms,
Adorned with new faculties, of larger powers.
Our forms, too, may then be renewed—
Assume new forms and senses, till our
Joys again rise up consummate.
If trusting thus, I shall have put off this mortal weed,
Why may not then still greater things be disclosed?
The poem appears to have never been translated into English before or since Margaret Fuller. It appeared in an essay titled The Two Herberts, which was originally published in the short-lived literary journal, The Present (1844), and republished in various editions of her collected essays. The essay is not very well known, but is one of her best. In it she portrays an imaginary dialogue between George Herbert and Edward. The dialogue is very engaging. Instead of both figures merely serving as artificial mouthpieces for the authors own view, here we see two distinct personalities, with important similarities and divergences of thought. Further, Fuller displays considerable sensitivity to their religious views. Edward was one of the founders of English Deism, while George was a devout Anglican. One main disagreement concerns the personal nature of ones relationship with God. The contrast between Edward, a man of action, and George, a pure contemplative, is also highlighted — biographers have noted the similarity here with this split in Fuller’s own personality (she eventually left New England for Italy, becoming active in the revolution there). But arguably the real significance of her essay is its religious dimension. I could extol its praises and expand on its subtle points, but ultimately it’s a work of art, appreciated more by reading than analyzing it.
Sources
Fuller, Margaret. The Two Herberts. In: Margaret Fuller, Art, Literature and the Drama, ed. Arthur B. Fuller, Boston, 1874; pp. 25−44. Orig. publ. in The Present, Vol. 1, March 1844, pp. 301−312.
Grey, Robin. Margaret Fuller’s “The Two Herberts,” Emerson, and the Disavowal of Sequestered Virtue. In: The Complicity of Imagination: The American Renaissance, Contests of Authority, and Seventeenth-Century English Culture, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1997; pp. 87−106.
Herbert, Edward. The Life of Edward Lord Herbert of Cherbury. Horace Walpole (ed.). London: Cassell, 1887; pp. 33−34. (First ed. Strawberry Hill, 1764).
Higginson, Thomas Wentworth. Margaret Fuller Ossoli. Houghton Mifflin, 1890. Ch. 18. Literary Traits (pp. 281−298).
Smith, George Charles Moore. The Poems of Lord Herbert of Cherbury. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1923; pp. 103−106.
1st draft: 17 Jan 2021
Thomas Traherne on Extraterrestrial Life
Photo: Juno orbiter photograph (NASA/JPL/Caltech/Kevin M. Gill)
“Our solar system has more mysteries than the sands of time, and at every turn there are new discoveries to be made. It’s as if God has given us a never-ending puzzle, one that all humanity can endlessly enjoy.” [1]
IN 1610 GALILEO pointed his telescope heavenward and discovered four large moons orbiting Jupiter, changing forever how humanity saw itself. Casual speculations about other worlds, possibly inhabited, had been made since ancient times. But now here was irrefutable evidence — direct experience of the senses — against the unchallenged premise that Earth is the only world. And as ever more powerful telescopes revealed previously unknown stars, the case for an infinitely large universe — and perhaps an infinite number of other worlds — seemed irresistible. And would not at least some of these other worlds be inhabited?
These new discoveries supplied considerable fuel for radical atheists of the times. Yet the Anglican priest, poet and writer, Thomas Traherne (c. 1637–1674) — Oxford trained and well-versed in the writings of Francis Bacon, the pre-eminent spokesman of the new scientific method — remained unphased. As Traherne set out to explain in Chapter 22 his work The Kingdom of God (which was not discovered until 1997):
the Wits of the Age are Atheisticaly disposed and pretend the Moon and Stars to be Inhabited, to the utter overthrow of Religion, as they design it; And many Terse Ingenuities hav of late furthered the opinion, Because the Genius of the Time is hammering at Such a thing … It Shall not be amiss, to shew cleerly that if their Discourses, were true no Detriment can accrue to Religion therby. (Kingdom of God 22, p. 369)
Indeed, in the rapidly emerging new discoveries of science Traherne saw even greater cause to believe in God.
What if the Stars should be all Inhabited, what would follow? May we conclude thence, that there is no GOD? no Religion? No Blessedness? verily it is more Apparent, that there is a God, a Religion, a Blessedness thereby. What if beyond the Heavens there were Infinit Numbers of Worlds at vast unspeakable distances. And all Those worlds full of Glorious Kingdoms? and all those Kingdoms full of the most Noble and Glorious Creatures. And all those Creatures walking in the Light of Eternitie, full of Joy, evry Moment celebrating the Praises of their Creator. And as full of Love towards each other. Would this Abolish Heaven? Verily in my Conceit, it Enricheth it. For it is more answerable to Goodness, Wisdom, and Felicitie; and demonstrates visibly, that there is a GOD. (Ibid., 372)
Traherne’s unshakeable first principle — one derived both from rational speculation and his personal experiences — is that God is infinitely good. And infinitely good in infinitely many ways. It is, of course, a traditional Christian doctrine that God is infinite. But reading Traherne’s works one senses how remarkably profound and compelling he held this principle to be. He grasped and took it to heart more than any Christian writer before or since. (Indeed, his deep appreciation of infinity may have had something to do with the advances in astronomy, science and mathematics in his lifetime.)
For Traherne, God, infinitely Good and wishing with infinite Love to share His Goodness, created human beings with divine intellects and wills. And these human faculties, being made in God’s image, are themselves infinite in scope, capacity and complexity. Hence Man’s insatiable yearning for knowledge, beauty, goodness and love. To meet these needs, and to reveal Himself to Man, God created a universe of infinite wonder and goodness for Man’s investigation and delight.
Running throughout Traherne’s work is St. Anselm of Canterbury’s seminal insight: “God is that beyond which no greater Good can be thought or imagined.” In simple terms, whatever good things we can imagine Him doing for us, God — in order to be God — must be not only capable of these but vastly more.
From this premise, Traherne advanced three arguments supporting the possibility of life on other worlds. The first is because God, infinitely productive and generous, delights in creating beauty and variety. Hence we would not expect God to leave the vast reaches of space uninhabited:
all Nature delighting in Life, is evry where productiv of Innumerable Creatures … Nature abhorres Vacuitie and Sterilitie: That the Elementary Qualities would be there in vain, if there were no Inhabitants. The Sun also and the Stars would Shine upon all those vast and Desolat Spaces in Vain, if there were none to see them…. For him that is Omnipresent and Eternal, to confine his Contentments to one litle Spot, and leav all the Rest Empty and Desolate is unworthie of his Majestie, and not very answerable to his Infinit Greatness. Neither is it suitable to his Wisdom, that Worlds of such Infinit Magnificence, Bulk, Number, Distance, and Varietie; should be Created; only for to be, and serv like Sparks of Weak, and Glittering Light, for such a litle Ball, a Point, a Mite as the Earth is, being Capable of so many more uses, if him self pleaseth. (Ibid., 371 f.)
Second, an infinite universe that contains other planets harboring life would be a gift of infinite value to Man. It would meet our insatiable thirst for knowledge, give cause for ever increasing thanks and praise, and be most consistent with (a central theme of Traherne’s writings) the vast grandeur and infinite capacity of the human soul.
Third, by creating other worlds with intelligent beings, God would make more creatures that witness and delight in Him and His works. Moreover, sentient aliens would have and enjoy their own relationship with God:
He desires Multitudes … to see his Glory, to Enjoy his Lov, to walk in the Paths of Righteousness, and, to prize his Works, to possess his Treasures, to Praise, admire, and see his Blessedness. The Earth is too poor a Cottage, too small a centre, to be the Single and Solitary object of his care and Love. (Ibid., 372)
Remarkably, Traherne even considered that sentient aliens would behold with joy the human soul, made in God’s image and likeness:
The Soul of Man would be Glorified, and Praised, and Magnified, and seen, and Belovd, and Admired, and Delighted in, in evry Part of Heaven, in evry Planet, in evry Star, in evry Kingdom, God doth delight in those that bear his Image, and are Blest with his Similitude. (Ibid.)
If our advanced intelligence isn’t unique in the universe, would not the same apply to our moral and spiritual sensibilities? Popular depictions of evil aliens notwithstanding, we’d expect that a species intelligent enough to master interstellar travel would have a great interest in knowing who or what made the universe — and them — and why? We might well suppose that advanced aliens would be even more interested in discussing religion with us than vice versa!
In Traherne’s view then, not only would the existence of other worlds and intelligent species not contradict religion, but we might be disappointed if God hasn’t made them!
[As a footnote, it seems to me Traherne’s view bear some relevance to estimating the probability of advanced alien life. A legitimate question to ask is, “If there are other intelligent species, why have none not already contacted us?” The absence of contact so far would seem to reduce the probability estimate of there being a species capable of interstellar flight in our near vicinity of the galaxy. But what if aliens are as morally advanced as they are technologically? Why would they intervene in our affairs? Wouldn’t they rather take greater delight in observing the amazing and intricate process of our development, just as we’d prefer to witness with awe a remarkable work of nature — say, the blossoming of a consummately beautiful flower — than to control or direct it? Yes, they might look with some concern about our negative tendencies. But at the same time they would see, to their joy and amazement, beings with infinitely capacious intellects and souls. Arguments like this would reduce the probability that an intelligent species might choose to initiate contact, and, in turn, increase the probability of there being intelligent alien life.]
Notes
- New Space Adventures: Mars. Through the Roof Productions. Video documentary, 2019.
Bibliography
Ross, Jan (ed.). The Works of Thomas Traherne: Volume I: Inducements to Retirednes, A Sober View of Dr Twisses his Considerations, Seeds of Eternity or the Nature of the Soul, The Kingdom of God. Cambridge: DS Brewer 2005.
1st draft: 10 Sep 2020
Preface to Traherne
Art: Thomas Denny, Thomas Traherne windows (Hereford Cathedral, 2007)
SINCE the rediscovery of Thomas Traherne’s work around the turn of 20th century, there has been wide consensus that he is a significant writer. There has been less agreement, however, on why he is significant — i.e., what his main contributions, especially for present times, consist of.
Somewhat unfortunately, many early commentators focused attention on his poetry, classifying him narrowly as an English metaphysical poet. However, while his poetry is excellent, it is arguably,not quite as technically sophisticated as that of George Herbert or Henry Vaughan. Traherne’s best work is not his verse, but his Centuries of Meditations, which we might classify as prose-poetry.
Other writers sought to interpret Traherne as a critic of the newly emerging rationalism, especially of Hobbes. More recently (e.g., Inge, 2009) attention has been drawn to his significance for Christian doctrinal theology.
Somewhat less attention, however, has been paid to simply understanding Traherne’s writings at face value: as devotional works intended to stimulate and deepen the religious experience of readers. What if we simply allow that Traherne is authentically inspired? In that case, perhaps we ought to be more interested in how he describes his work and mission than in historical or technical criticism.
Traherne’s two most sublime and famous works — the poems of the Dobell folio (Dobell, 1906) and Centuries of Meditations (Dobell, 1908) have been transmitted in manuscript form only and lack author prefaces. However Traherne did prepare another work, Christian Ethicks, for publication (it reached print a year after his death) and this is prefaced with a ‘Note to the Reader.’ Here Traherne carefully and concisely explains his purpose. Christian Ethicks is a systematic work, but it treats the same subjects as his poems and Centuries of Meditations. Therefore his ‘To the Reader’ gives us insight into his intentions for these other works as well.
To the Reader, copied from the 1675 edition of Christian Ethicks is supplied below. Original spelling is retained. Page numbers have been added in braces ({}) and paragraphs numbered in brackets ([]). Some key points are as follows:
In the first paragraph he announces his aim to elevate the soul and inflame the heart. He is interested in ethics not as a dry academic exercise or as theories developed by force of rational argument. Rather he seeks to excite the intelligence and arouse the will, enabling people to seek and directly experience the religious and moral truths contained. Here he follows the tradition of Plato — to achieve moral transformation by an ascent of the mind and heart and by recollection (anamnesis) of already known truths — and not the rationalism of Aristotle or scholasticism.
In [2−3] he contrasts his method with discussions that approach ethics either (1) dogmatically, as ‘things we must do because God so ordains’, or (2) based on practical expedience. Indeed, a hallmark feature of Traherne’s philosophy is that ethics is what produces our greatest good, which he calls Felicity. Felicity includes happiness, but is something more. It also carries the sense of joy, illumination and holiness. For Traherne, Felicity is the telos of human beings, our ethical summum bonum. It unites in a single principle our greatest happiness, our duty, expedience, God’s will, love of God and charity to others.
Traherne has sometimes been criticized as being an impractical optimist, with no significant theory of evil. He addresses this point in paragraph [4], taking the position that virtues are so good, beautiful and attractive in themselves that, if we can see them truly, they will by their own force overcome any attraction to baseness or sin. Hence explicit discussion of vice is a digression and a distraction from topics that matter more.
Traherne is clearly promoting what we would today call virtue ethics. In the subsequent paragraphs he alludes to a number of specific virtues, including the traditional cardinal and theological virtues. Again in a characteristically Platonic way, he recognizes a fundamental unity amongst virtues. At the center of them all is Goodness, the source of which is God.
The final paragraph emphasizes two things. First, the essence of his entire system is to exhort us to God’s praise and glory. God’s glory, for Traherne, is the essential fact of the universe. This fact is not only virtually a logical necessity, but something Traherne claims to have experienced himself many times. Further, we cannot doubt that it is his personal, passionate aim to convey this message to us so that we may achieve the Felicity of which he speaks. Traherne presents his writings as a charitable outreaching to his readers, seeking to further God’s glory by making us want to further God’s glory, achieving, in the process, our own Felicity. This kind of self-reinforcing circularity is recurring theme in his writings.
Finally and tellingly, he is careful to emphasize that we must not only understand these high truths intellectually, but “sense” them.
TO THE READER.
[1] THE design of this Treatise is, not to stroak and tickle the Fancy, but to elevate the Soul, and refine its Apprehensions, to inform the Judgment, and polish it for Conversation, to purifie and enflame the Heart, to enrich the Mind, and guide Men {ii} (that stand in need of help) in the way of Vertue; to excite their Desire, to encourage them to Travel, to comfort them in the Journey, and so at last to lead them to true Felicity, both here and hereafter.
[2] need not treat of Vertues in the ordinary way, as they are Duties enjoyned by the Law of GOD; that the Author of The whole Duty of Man *hath excellently done: nor as they are Prudential Expedients and Means for a mans Peace and Honour on Earth; that is in some measure done by the French Charon {iii} of Wisdom**. My purpose is to satisfie the Curious and Unbelieving Soul, concerning the reality, force, and efficacy of Vertue; and having some advantages from the knowledge I gained in the nature of Felicity (by many years earnest and diligent study) my business is to make as visible, as it is possible for me, the lustre of its Beauty, Dignity, and Glory: By shewing what a necessary Means Vertue is, how sweet, how full of Reason, how desirable in it self, how just and amiable, how delightful, and how powerfully conducive also {iv} to Glory: how naturally Vertue carries us to the Temple of Bliss, and how immeasurably transcendent it is in all kinds of Excellency.
[3] And (if I may speak freely) my Office is, to carry and enhance Vertue to its utmost height, to open the Beauty of all the Prospect, and to make the Glory of GOD appear, in the Blessedness of Man, by setting forth its infinite Excellency: Taking out of the Treasuries of Humanity those Arguments that will discover the great perfection of the End of Man, which he may atchieve {v} by the capacity of his Nature: As also by opening the Nature of Vertue it self, thereby to display the marvellous Beauty of Religion, and light the Soul to the sight of its Perfection.
[4] I do not speak much of Vice, which is far the more easie Theme, because I am intirely taken up with the abundance of Worth and Beauty in Vertue, and have so much to say of the positive and intrinsick Goodness of its Nature. But besides, since a strait Line is the measure both of it self, and of a crooked one, I conclude, That the very Glory of {vi} Vertue well understood, will make all Vice appear like dirt before Jewel, when they are compared together. Nay, Vice as soon as it is named in the presence of these Vertues, will look like Poyson and a Contagion, or if you will, as black as Malice and Ingratitude: so that there will need no other Exposition of its Nature, to dehort Men from the love of it, than the Illustration of its Contrary.
[5] Vertues are listed in the rank of Invisible things; of which kind, some are so blind as to deny there are any existent {vii} in Nature: But yet it may, and will be made easily apparent, that all the Peace and Beauty in the World proceedeth from them, all Honour and Security is founded in them, all Glory and Esteem is acquired by them. For the Prosperity of all Kingdoms is laid in the Goodness of GOD and of Men. Were there nothing in the World but the Works of Amity, which proceed from the highest Vertue, they alone would testifie of its Excellency. For there can be no Safety where there is any Treachery: But were all {viii} Truth and Courtesie exercis’d with Fidelity and Love, there could be no Injustice or Complaint in the World; no Strife, nor Violence: but all Bounty, Joy and Complacency. Were there no Blindness, every Soul would be full of Light, and the face of Felicity be seen, and the Earth be turned into Heaven.
[6] The things we treat of are great and mighty; they touch the Essence of every Soul, and are of infinite Concernment, because the Felicity is eternal that is acquired by them: I do not mean Immortal only but worthy to be Eternal: and it is {ix} impossible to be happy without them. We treat of Mans great and soveraign End, of the Nature of Blessedness, of the Means to attain it: Of Knowledge and Love, of Wisdom and Goodness, of Righteousness and Holiness, of Justice and Mercy, of Prudence and Courage, of Temperance and Patience, of Meekness and Humility, of Contentment, of Magnanimity and Modesty, of Liberality and Magnificence, of the waies by which Love is begotten in the Soul, of Gratitude, of Faith, Hope, and Charity, of Repentance, Devotion, {x} Fidelity, and Godliness. In all which we shew what sublime and mysterious Creatures they are, which depend upon the Operations of Mans Soul; their great extent, their use and value, their Original and their End, their Objects and their Times: What Vertues belong to the Estate of Innocency, what to the Estate of Misery and Grace, and what to the Estate of Glory. Which are the food of the Soul, and the works of Nature; which were occasioned by Sin, as Medicines and Expedients only: which are {xi} Essential to Felicity, and which Accidental; which Temporal, and which Eternal: with the true Reason of their Imposition; why they all are commanded, and how wise and gracious GOD is in enjoyning them. By which means all Atheism is put to flight, and all Infidelity: The Soul is reconciled to the Lawgiver of the World, and taught to delight in his Commandements: All Enmity and Discontentment must vanish as Clouds and Darkness before the Sun, when the Beauty of Vertue appeareth in its {xii} brightness and glory. It is impossible that the splendour of its Nature should be seen, but all Religion and Felicity will be manifest.
[7] Perhaps you will meet some New Notions: but yet when they are examined, he hopes it will appear to the Reader, that it was the actual knowledge of true Felicity that taught him to speak of Vertue; and moreover, that there is not the least tittle pertaining to the Catholick Faith contradicted or altered in his Papers. For he firmly retains all that was established in the {xiii} Ancient Councels, nay and sees Cause to do so, even in the highest and most transcendent Mysteries: only he enriches all, by farther opening the grandeur and glory of Religion, with the interiour depths and Beauties of Faith. Yet indeed it is not he, but GOD that hath enriched the Nature of it: he only brings the Wealth of Vertue to light, which the infinite Wisdom, and Goodness, and Power of GOD have seated there. Which though Learned Men know perhaps far better than he, yet he humbly craves pardon for casting in {xiv} his Mite to the vulgar Exchequer. He hath nothing more to say, but that the Glory of GOD, and the sublime Perfection of Humane Nature are united in Vertue. By Vertue the Creation is made useful, and the Universe delightful. All the Works of GOD are crowned with their End, by the Glory of Vertue. For whatsoever is good and profitable for Men is made Sacred; because it is delightful and well-pleasing to GOD: Who being LOVE by Nature, delighteth in his Creatures welfare.{xv}
[8] There are two sorts of concurrent Actions necessary to Bliss. Actions in GOD, and Actions in Men; nay and Actions too in all the Creatures. The Sun must warm, but it must not burn; the Earth must bring forth, but not swallow up; the Air must cool without starving, and the Sea moisten without drowning: Meats must feed but not poyson: Rain must fall, but not oppress: Thus in the inferiour Creatures you see Actions are of several kinds. But these may be reduced to the Actions of GOD, from whom they {xvi} spring; for he prepares all these Creatures for us. And it is necessary to the felicity of his Sons, that he should make all things healing and amiable, not odious and destructive: that he should Love, and not Hate: And the Actions of Men must concur aright with these of GOD, and his Creatures. They must not despise Blessings because they are given, but esteem them; not trample them under feet, because they have the benefit of them, but magnifie and extol them: They too must Love, and not Hate: They must not kill and murther, {xvii} but serve and pleasure one another: they must not scorn great and inestimable Gifts, because they are common, for so the Angels would lose all the happiness of Heaven. If GOD should do the most great and glorious things that infinite Wisdom could devise; if Men will resolve to be blind, and perverse, and sensless, all will be in vain: the most High and Sacred things will increase their Misery. This may give you some little glimpse of the excellency of Vertue.{xviii}
[9] You may easily discern that my Design is to reconcile Men to GOD, and make them fit to delight in him: and that my last End is to celebrate his Praises, in communion with the Angels. Wherein I beg the Concurrence of the Reader, for we can never praise him enough; nor be fit enough to praise him: No other man (at least) can make us so, without our own willingness, and endeavour to do it. Above all, pray to be sensible of the Excellency of the Creation for upon the due sense of its Excellency the life of {xix} Felicity wholly dependeth. Pray to be sensible of the Excellency of Divine Laws, and of all the Goodness which your Soul comprehendeth. Covet a lively sense of all you know, of the Excellency of GOD, and of Eternal Love; of your own Excellency, and of the worth and value of all Objects whatsoever. For to feel is as necessary, as to see their Glory.
* Anonymous, The Whole Duty of Man. London: Henry Hammond, 1658. A popular 17th century Anglican devotional work.
** Pierre Charron, De la sagesse (translated into English as Of Wisdome, 1612). Charron, a disciple of Montaigne, defended virtue on the basis of practical expedience.
Bibliography
Balakier, James, J. Thomas Traherne and the Felicities of the Mind. Amherst, NY: Cambria Press, 2010.
Dobell, Bertram (ed.). The Poetical Works of Thomas Traherne. London, 1903; 2nd ed. 1906.
Dobell, Bertram (ed.). Thomas Traherne: Centuries of Meditations. London, 1908.
Hunter, Stuart Charles. Prophet of Felicity: A Study of the Intellectual Background of Thomas Traherne. Diss. McMaster University, 1965.
Inge, Denise. Wanting Like a God: Desire and Freedom in Thomas Traherne. London: SCM Press, 2009.
Margoliouth, H. M. (ed.). Centuries, Poems, and Thanksgivings. 2 vols. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1958.
Marks, Carol L. Thomas Traherne and Hermes Trismegistus. Renaissance News, vol. 19, no. 2, 1966, 118–131.
Martz, Louis. The Paradise Within: Studies in Vaughan, Traherne, and Milton. New Haven and London, 1964.
Traherne, Thomas. Christian ethicks, or, Divine morality opening the way to blessedness, by the rules of vertue and reason. London, Jonathan Edwin, 1675. [Orig. edition]
1st draft: 1 Sep 2020
The Communion of Saints
A search for a clear exposition of this distinctive and sublime Christian teaching revealed Wyllys Rede’s book, The Communion of Saints (Longmans, 1893). This charming devotional work has three special virtues:
First, it is plainly a labor of love. Rede discloses that he lost both parents in infancy and felt a later spiritual connection with them; this interest, and the study and reflection pursuant to it, formed the earnest foundation of the book.
Second, a generous, diverse and interesting selection of quotes from earlier literature is supplied.
Third, the material was first delivered as a series of lectures; this often has, as here, the effect of enhancing the content, reasoning, and organization of a work.
Rede consistently appeals to the instincts and intuitions of the readers, diplomatically sidestepping and deflecting certain historical contentions that have sometimes surrounded the topic.
Though an Episcopalian cleric, Rede takes a non-denominational perspective.
An interesting detail from the author’s life is that, at age 3, he sat on the knee of President Lincoln and was entertained with stories immediately preceding to the latter’s delivery of the Gettysburg Address.
The chapters are as follows:
1. What is the Communion of Saints?
2. Is there a Life after Death?
3.Where are the Souls of Departed Saints?
4. Do the Saints departed Live a Conscious Life?
5. What is the Relationship of Departed Saints to us?
6. What is our Relationship to Departed Saints?
7. What is the Relationship of all Saints to God?
As seen, the book is structured in the form of questions which, the author candidly observes, are those which people naturally wonder about. Below we excerpt the principle questions of each chapter, and the author’s conclusions concerning them.
1. What is the Communion of Saints?
What is the Communion of Saints?
The word “communion” is not difficult to define. It means a common share or fellowship. When used in a religious sense, it means a mystical partnership in some supernatural grace or life. [p. 4]
By the communion of saints we mean the spiritual relationship which knits together all God’s saints in the mystical Body of Christ. [p. 4]
To whom can we properly apply the title of “saints”?
I claim the name of saint for every soul [living or dead] that has been baptized into Christ and tries to live up to its baptismal vows. I claim it for every life that can with any degree of truth be called a consecrated life. I claim it for every one (however frail, however full of faults) who yet looks longingly before where Christ has gone and tries to follow Him. [p. 11]
2. Is there a Life after Death?
[His answer is yes. This chapter mainly sets the stage for subsequent discussion. Iit can be skipped or lightly read without limiting understanding or appreciation of later chapters.]
3. Where are the Souls of Departed Saints?
Rede affirms the traditional teaching that souls must await the Last Judgment at the end of the world before reaching a final reward with God in heaven. This period(?) between death and the Last Judgement is termed the intermediate state. For the virtuous, it is envisaged as a kind of Paradise, more a ‘school for souls’ than a place of punishment. Supporting this view, Rede cites the words of Jesus on the cross to the penitent thief: Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise. (Luke 23:43) Rede draws particular attention to the words today, which implies something immanent, not delayed until after the Last Judgment; and with me, which suggests a continuing connection or relationship of the soul to Jesus in this paradisiacal state.
The possibility that souls of the unjust go to another place, and undergo a purgatorial purification, is also considered.
Do they [departed souls] go at once to their final abode?
Every human soul must wait until its body has been raised from the grave, and God’s general judgment passed before it can enter on its final state. [p. 49]
Is there an intermediate state in which the spirit lives and waits the coming of God’s own good time ?
Our Church, our Creed, and our Bible tell us that there is. The Church in all ages, especially her earliest, has believed in such a state of life. [p. 51]
Where is their [just souls’] abode, and what their life between the hour of death and the judgment-day?
The Holy Scriptures teach us distinctly, though somewhat indirectly, of the existence and character of the intermediate state. [p. 52]
By Paradise He [Jesus] must have meant some intermediate state preparatory to the heavenly life into which He was later on to ascend. [p. 53]
The conclusions to be drawn from this parable [the rich man and Lazarus]; seem to me to be partly these: that the life of the soul goes on after death in some place or state provided by God for disembodied souls; that this has two divisions or states of life widely separated from each other, at least in the tenor of their existence. In one of them the spirits of the saints (represented by Lazarus) enjoy rest, refreshment, and companionship. In the other, those who have squandered their lives and hardened their hearts to the extent of final impenitence, await with apprehension the just and final judgment of their God. [pp. 59 – 60].
They have entered a new cosmical sphere of life, which differs totally from this material sphere of time and space. [p. 64]
“an inward realm where life lays bare its root, whereas in this world it shows only the branches of the tree.” [quoting Hans Lassen Martensen; p. 65]
“a kingdom of calm thought and self-fathoming, a kingdom of remembrance in the full sense of the word.” [quoting Hans Lassen Martensen; p. 65]
They are spending “a school-time of contemplation,” as in this world they endured “a discipline of service.” [quoting Bl. John Henry Cardinal Newman; p. 65].
This word [Paradise] our Lord used, and ever since it has been a consecrated word, and has been understood to mean the outer court of heaven, the gardens of delight which stretch about the dwelling-place of God, the pleasant land in which all faithful souls shall dwell until they enter in through the everlasting doors into the palace of the Great King. Its beauty must be transcendent, its delights infinite. It must be worthy of that city of God which it surrounds, worthy to be the royal road that leads up to gates of pearl and into streets of gold. [pp. 62-3]
4. Do the Saints departed Live a Conscious Life?
Is the life of the soul in the Intermediate State a conscious life?
In His [Jesus’] promise to the penitent thief upon the cross He distinctly asserts the continuance of consciousness.… It must imply that the soul is not shorn of its powers in Paradise. [p. 74]
Having, as I trust, established the fact of consciousness in the future life, we want to know what are its activities. With what is it occupied? How is it limited?
At death soul and body separate, and the soul begins to live alone. It no longer receives its impressions through sensations of the body…. The mind acts, but no longer through bodily media. The result is a great quickening of the mental and spiritual faculties. [p. 76]
The intellectual and spiritual life is unhindered now, and a magnificent horizon opens before it in which it is free to range. [p. 76]
What are the occupations of the life beyond the grave? With what are souls busy in the unseen world?
I answer, they are undergoing a process of soul-growth and ripening, a progressive sanctification, a purification from the defilements of this world. [p. 77]
Does the soul in Paradise remember the past?
Without the contrast which memory would draw between the “evil things ” which he had suffered in his earthly life and the “good things ” which he now enjoyed, he would be deprived of a large part of his reward. [p. 82]
The pure and precious loves of this life are not forgotten in the life to come. God is love, and He will not quench any love that has a right to live. [pp. 82-3]
And if there come thoughts of penitence and visions of past sins, as come they must, with them will come a fuller knowledge of the loving mercy of their Lord to soothe the self-accusing pangs of memory. [p. 83]
Shall God, who gave man knowledge, hide it from him at the very time when He is perfecting him for an entrance into the very fulness of knowledge? I know not. What will be the limits of that knowledge we may not dare to define; but that in its gradual growth it will far surpass the knowledge possible in this world we may rest assured. [pp. 84-5]
5. What is the Relationship of Departed Saints to us?
How much do they know of our present life and needs? Are all the events of the world’s history and of our individual experience known to them?
Knowledge of all that goes on here might be rather a hindrance than a help [p. 105]
While they do not know by their own powers of perception what passes here, such knowledge may be conveyed to them through other avenues. Their numbers are increasing day by day, and each soul that goes hence carries with it into the other world some news from this. The angels, as they go to and fro upon their ministries from God to men, let fall by the way so much as God permits them to tell of what is going on here. Finally, our Lord Himself imparts to the souls which dwell in His nearer presence something, as much as it is best for them to know, of what is happening to those whom they have loved and left behind. Thus, while we have no proof that they know of themselves all that is passing here, we are at liberty to think that their loving Lord lets them have such knowledge of us as they need. [pp. 107-8]
While we do not suppose that the saints in Paradise are directly cognizant of what is said or done by us, we are led to think that our Lord reveals to them so much of it as is best for them to know. [p. 120]
Do the saints in Paradise pray?
The souls in Paradise are with Christ, in a closer fellowship than was possible on earth. Their speech with Him must, therefore, be freer than it was before. It must be frequent, frank, and unrestrained. [p. 110]
Do they pray for us?
The souls in Paradise are still the same souls. They have not lost their identity. Their traits of character and their affections are the same as before, only exalted and purified. All that was good in them remains unchanged, except for the better. They love us still, they think of us, they long for the time when we shall join them in their holy home. Therefore they must pray for us. They must often and earnestly ask God to work His will in us and bring us safe home to them. They must plead with Him to protect us from harm and pardon all our sins. They do not need to be spurred on by a full knowledge of all that is happening to us. Out of their own experience they can guess our needs well enough. Their warm true love for us, and their realization of the joy that awaits us, must drive them on resistlessly. They know, as they never did before, the tremendous issues of human life. They see our dangers clearer than we do. And so they pray for us. [pp. 110-111]
And are their prayers effectual for our good?
Their loud unceasing cry goes up to God for us. Will God not hear that cry? Will He turn away His face and make as though He heard it not ? Does He not love to hear it ? [pp. 111-12]
“The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” What, then, must be the power of the ceaseless prayers of a Paradise full of holy souls ? The mind of man cannot measure the blessings God shall give in answer to the prayers of Paradise. [p. 112}
The saints departed pray for us, but can we ask them for their prayers? Can we in any sense pray to them ?
[Rede cautions against attributing] to the saints powers and prerogatives which encroach upon the [unique] mediatorial office of Christ. [p. 118]
The earlier and purer doctrine of the post-Nicene age, namely, that of prayer for prayer, the Ora pro nobis [pray for us; addressed to deceased saints] of the old service-books, has never been condemned in any part of the Church Catholic. [p. 119]
How good it is to think of the mighty chorus of prayer which is ever going up from the saints in Paradise… I love to think of it, and try to catch some far-off echo of its harmonies. [pp. 123-4]
6. What is our Relationship to Departed Saints?
May we pray for those who are gone, or are they beyond the need and the reach of our prayers?
The same love which binds together the three Persons of the Blessed Trinity, when God has permitted it to bind human hearts, must be as eternal in the one relationship as in the other. [p. 129]
In this life one of the strongest bonds that holds together human-kind is the mutual ministry of prayer. Nothing unites us closer to a friend than to pray for him. Nothing stirs us more deeply than to know that some one is praying for us. [p. 132]
If, then, our hearts and minds are full of those who have gone out from our midst, and our desires seem to be centred and summed up in them, are we not praying for them anyhow? … Such is the natural yearning and reasoning of the human heart. Must it be repressed? Is there anything to forbid us to carry out these natural inclinations which are so strong? [p. 133]
I think no honest mind can doubt that His silence gives consent. We seem to hear Him say, “I would have told you, if it were not so.” (John 14:2). The Second Book of Maccabees tells us that some two centuries before our Lord became incarnate in the flesh it was customary to pray for the dead. The records of ancient Hebrew life and the testimony of the best Jewish scholars assure us that prayers for the dead were common when He was fulfilling His earthly ministry. In every synagogue they were offered as a matter of course, and are to-day. They formed a part of the Temple worship, where sacrifices were offered for those who had departed this life in a state of imperfect holiness. [p. 134]
All the liturgies of the Primitive Church contain prayers for the dead. [p. 137]
What is accomplished by such prayers, and for whom may we offer them?
One of the popular difficulties of our times is to understand how such prayers can benefit those whose earthly life is at an end. If you believe that their probation-time is past and that they are at rest in Paradise, why do you pray for them? So the world asks us. We reply, Yes, we know that they are at rest, we suppose that their time of probation is fulfilled, that they have entered on their reward. But they are not made perfect yet. They still need blessings from the hand of God. They need to be purified and drawn closer to Him day by day, and there will come a time when they with us must stand before their Judge. There is, therefore, much which we may ask of God for them. [p. 141-2]
7. What is the Relationship of all Saints to God?
It consists chiefly, on the one side, in the communication of a divine supernatural life from God to men; on the other, in the offering of an individual and united worship by men to God. [p. 153]
Origen of Alexandria: Purgatory or Paradisiacal School of Souls?
The usual Roman Catholic and Anglican belief is that, after death, souls go to Purgatory. This is traditionally envisioned as a purifying fire, though many suggest that ‘fire’ is to be understood in a metaphorical sense, representing a potentially painful purification.
While it is believed that souls of the good will eventually join God in heaven, this would actually happen after the end of the world, the General Resurrection and the Last Judgment. So, even one who lived the most saintly life on earth would not go to heaven immediately, but would need to wait until after end times before receiving his or her final reward.
So what do souls of the good do in the meantime? If they sinned little, why would they remain in Purgatory for a protracted period?
Some theologians suggest that in the intermediate state, that is, the period between death and the General Resurrection, redeemed and sufficiently purified souls may go to not to heaven, but to different place, which is itself pleasant enough to merit the name Paradise.
Scriptural evidence comes from Jesus’ words on the cross to the penitent thief: Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise. (Luke 23:43) Jesus said not “some day” but today the thief would be in Paradise.
Origen (184 – 254 AD), the enigmatic and mystical Church Father from Alexandria, Egypt, conjectured on the intermediate state in his speculative work, On First Principles (De Principiis). He suggested that perhaps the just, after death, go to a place, Paradise, which is a school for souls. He also mentioned an ascent through various spheres of heaven, using some of the same imagery as Gnostics (who were active in Alexandria at the same time, and whose work Origen knew well). There are also associations to Jewish Merkabah mysticism, something which Origen also was exposed to by virtue of his tenure as a teacher in Caesarea, Palestine.
An extract of his work follows. (As Origen’s sentences tend to be long, I’ve parsed them into something like blank verse poetry to aid understanding.)
Origen on the School of Souls
On First Principles, Book 2, Chapter 11, Sections 6-7 (2.11.6-7)
6… I think, therefore, that all the saints who depart from this life
will [first] remain in some place situated on the earth,
which holy Scripture calls paradise,
as in some place of instruction, and,
so to speak, class-room or school of souls,
in which they are to be instructed regarding all the things
which they had seen on earth,
and are to receive also some information respecting
things that are to follow in the future,
as even when in this life they had obtained
in some degree indications of future events,
although through a glass darkly,
all of which are revealed more clearly and distinctly
to the saints in their proper time and place.
If any one indeed be pure in heart, and holy in mind,
and more practised in perception, he will,
by making more rapid progress, [then]
quickly ascend to a place in the air,
and reach the kingdom of heaven,
through those mansions, so to speak,
in the various places which the Greeks
have termed spheres, i.e., globes,
but which holy Scripture has called heavens;
in each of which he will first see clearly what is done there,
and in the second place, will discover the reason
why things are so done:
and thus he will in order pass through all gradations,
following Him who has passed into the heavens,
Jesus the Son of God, who said,
I will that where I am, these may be also.
And of this diversity of places He speaks, when
He says, In My Father’s house are many mansions….
7. When, then, the saints shall have
reached the celestial abodes,
they will clearly see the nature of the stars
one by one,
and will understand
whether they are endued with life,
or their condition, whatever it is.
And they will comprehend also the
other reasons for the works of God,
which He Himself will reveal to them.
For He will show to them, as to children,
the causes of things and the power of His creation,
and will explain why that star was placed
in that particular quarter of the sky,
and why it was separated from another
by so great an intervening space;
what, e.g., would have been the consequence
if it had been nearer or more remote;
or if that star had been larger than this,
how the totality of things would not have remained the same,
but all would have been transformed
into a different condition of being.
And so, when they have finished all those matters
which are connected with the stars,
and with the heavenly revolutions,
they will come to those which are not seen,
or to those whose names only we have heard,
and to things which are invisible,
which the Apostle Paul has informed us are numerous,
although what they are, or what difference may exist among them,
we cannot even conjecture by our feeble intellect.
And thus the rational nature,
growing by each individual step,
not as it grew in this life in flesh, and body, and soul,
but enlarged in understanding and in power of perception,
is raised as a mind already perfect to perfect knowledge,
no longer at all impeded by those carnal senses,
but increased in intellectual growth; and ever gazing purely,
and, so to speak, face to face, on the causes of things, it attains perfection,
firstly, viz., that by which it ascends to (the truth),
and secondly, that by which it abides in it,
having problems and the understanding of things,
and the causes of events, as the food on which it may feast.
For as in this life our bodies grow physically to what they are,
through a sufficiency of food in early life supplying the means of increase,
but after the due height has been attained we use food no longer to grow,
but to live, and to be preserved in life by it;
so also I think that the mind, when it has attained perfection,
eats and avails itself of suitable and appropriate food in such a degree,
that nothing ought to be either deficient or superfluous.
And in all things this food is to be understood
as the contemplation and understanding of God,
which is of a measure appropriate and suitable to this nature,
which was made and created;
and this measure it is proper should be observed by
every one of those who are beginning to see God,
i.e., to understand Him through purity of heart.
Source
Origen. De Principiis. Tr. Frederick Crombie. Ante-Nicene Fathers, Vol. IV (ANF4). Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson, Eds. Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1866-1872.
Psychological Interpretation of Psalm 1
The religious life, explained in detail throughout the Bible, is summarized in a single, short passage, namely Psalm 1. Further, the essential message is conveyed in just the first two or three verses. Noting this and studying the psalm will therefore greatly assist ones spiritual progress, in a very direct way, and with comparatively little effort…. click here for the rest.
Commentary on Psalm 71 (72)
Psalm 71 (72)
This is a magnificent psalm. Here an interpretation is offered following depth-psychological framework developed in several of these posts.
To begin, we recall a primary principle of depth-psychological exegesis: that every element in the scripture corresponds to some element of the self, psyche, or personality.
The Messiah’s royal power
Give the king your judgement, O God,
The king is the personality after salvation is attained. This is attested to by (1) our earlier understanding of what the Kingdom of Heaven implies, by (2) associations with the idea of a philosopher king in Plato’s Republic, and (3) the symbolism of the king in Alchemical writings and iconography.
give the king’s son your righteousness.
Here is something new. There is both a king and a king’s son! What the king’s son is not clear. One might thing this is the Christ Archetype. However, it seems more likely that the king is the Christ Archetype; that is because, above, a distinction was made between the king and God. However, we are not dealing with literal logic here, and perhaps, in some sense, the king and the king’s son refer to the same entity.
Let him judge your people with justice
Is it the king or the king’s son who judges? Since it is the king’s son who receives righteousness (a quality associated with justice), this suggests that the king’s son is referred to. As the distinction between king and king’s son is not maintained in the psalm, we shall provisionally assume that these are, basically, two facets or functions of the same entity.
As repeatedly mentioned in these posts, the psyche or self includes components or facets that can be likened to peoples, nations, tribes, etc.
and your poor ones with wisdom.
Some of these ‘people’ are poor. These would correspond to neglected or suffering parts of the total person. In a sense, this also refers to the empirical ego –( i.e., you, the reader, as you see yourself) — because it is the suffering ego that is drawn to the psalms and seeks salvation.
Let the mountains bring peace to your people,
What are the mountains? This is something perhaps for future consideration.
let the hills bring righteousness.
He will give his judgement to the poor among the people,
he will rescue the children of the destitute,
Expanding on earlier statements.
he will lay low the false accuser.
The false accuser is our primary adversary and source of negative thoughts. Related to doubt, anxiety, fear. This is to the Christ Archetype what King Herod is to the infant Jesus.
He will endure with the sun, beneath the moon,
Sun and moon here surely have iconic significance — relating to the solar and lunar aspects of the psyche. Much has already been written about this.
from generation to generation.
Our personality/ego continually changes. These ‘versions’ might be likened to generations.
He will come down like rain on the pasture,
As in the form of grace.
like a shower that waters the earth.
In his time, righteousness will flourish
and abundance of peace,
until the moon itself is no more.
The last statement is interesting; note that the author does not say “until the sun and moon are no more”, but only “until the moon itself is no more.”
He will rule from coast to coast,
from the world’s centre to its farthest edge.
The desert-dwellers will cast themselves down before him;
his enemies will eat dust at his feet.
The kings of Tharsis and the islands will bring tribute,
the kings of Arabia and Sheba will bring gifts.
All the kings will worship him,
Potentially there is some significance to the specific references to kings of Tharsis, Arabia, Sheba, and the islands. In general we see reference to the same theme as the Adoration of the Magi.
The Magi were kings, magicians, who came to prostrate themselves to Jesus Christ. This implies there are elements of our psyche or our personality — Magi analogs — which revere and subordinate themselves to the Christ Archetype. What are these Magi analogs? This is a worthy subject for speculation. We can say this much: the Magi are presented in the Bible as wise and noble. This implies there are wise and noble elements of our personality — let us suggest, perhaps, elements that, like the Christ Archetype, seek our integration and improvement, and accomplish good things towards that. But these eventually must see themselves as inferior and subordinate to the Christ Archetype.
all nations will serve him.
Because he has given freedom to the destitute who called to him,
to the poor, whom no-one will hear.
He will spare the poor and the needy,
he will keep their lives safe.
He will rescue their lives from oppression and violence,
their blood will be precious in his sight.
He will live long, and receive gifts of gold from Arabia;
they will pray for him always,
bless him all through the day.
There will be abundance of grain in the land,
it will wave even from the tops of the mountains;
its fruit will be richer than Lebanon.
The people will flourish as easily as grass.
Let his name be blessed for ever,
let his name endure beneath the sun.
All the nations of the earth will be blessed in him,
all nations will acclaim his greatness.
Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
who alone works wonders.
Let his majesty be blessed for ever;
let it fill all the earth. Amen, amen.
To emphasize the special importance of this psalm, the author concludes with not one, but two Amens. Let it be! Let it be!
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Today my readings took me to St. Paul’s second letter to the Thessalonians, and an interesting passage where he warns them against what he calls the great Rebel (2 Thess. 2:3) This is in a modern (Jerusalem Bible) translation. The King James Version renders the Greek expression (anthropos hamartia) as that man of sin. Usually I am wary of modern translations, but here one suspects that the international team of scholars who translated the Jerusalem Bible had good grounds for their more evocative choice of words.
In any case this reading serves as a welcome stimulus to address a topic I have too long delayed. I wish to call attention to the reality of this great Rebel as a psychological phenomenon , and as a major obstacle to human happiness.
Now as to whether Satan, in the traditional sense, exists or not does not concern me here. What is of concern is a satanic principle as it exists within the psyche of each individual. That I am convinced does exist. And it is this inner satanic principle which is, I believe, our most immediate concern, and perhaps ultimately our greatest adversary and obstacle to well-being.
What is the evidence for this? To begin with, I call attention to the psychological theories of Carl Jung. Jung’s theories are not always right, and much of what he wrote is either inconsistent with — or has been interpreted (perhaps wrongly) in ways that make it inconsistent with — Christianity. However, points of incorrectness or disagreement should never make us hesitate to accept whatever else is true and useful. And there is indeed much true and useful in Jung’s theories.
In this case, Jung’s theories make a very strong case that the Bible, as well as the sacred writings and myths of all cultures, (1) can be interpreted psychologically, and (2) that this can be done more or less along the same lines as one interprets dreams psychologically.
One proviso or explanation must be made immediately: to say that the Bible can be interpreted psychologically in no way denies that it has other levels of meaning. Most importantly, it does not deny that the New Testament is literally true. (Whether the Old Testament is literally true is, of course, another matter.) Thus, rather than detract from the grandeur of the Bible, this view actually enhances it: it allows that God, the Supreme Author, uses all modes of meaning which literature may carry — literal and symbolic — to communicate with our souls. But having stated this, I will not further defend the premise here, having done so elsewhere. In any case, many readers will be willing to accept this key premise prima facie.
A corollary of this premise is that each figure in the Bible has some counterpart, and thus serves as a symbol for some part or process of the individual psyche. Again, many, especially those already familiar with Jungian theory, will accept this without further explanation. It is a standard element of psychological interpretation of dreams, as well as of mythology, art and literature.
However, from the preceding, fairly unimpressive propositions, logic leads us necessarily to a momentous one: this means that the figure of Satan — or the great Rebel — must also correspond to something within the individual psyche.
If true, this is a huge concern. It means that, at virtually all times, in whatever we do or think, in whatever way we seek to improve ourselves on the road of virtue, or to love others, or to contribute to a better word, something within us opposes our efforts. Moreover this energy, force, or principle of opposition is extremely strong, crafty, utterly callous and unloving, devoid of virtue, and, in every way corresponds to the figure of Satan in the Bible!
Evidence of the reality of this adversarial principle can be found in ancient philosophy. I refer, in particular, to the writings of the Jewish Middle Platonist, Philo of Alexandria (c. 25 BC–c.50 AD). Philo is most famous for his complex and amazingly astute psychological interpretations of Genesis and Exodus. However in the process of his interpreting Scripture he contributed quite a bit of philosophical and psychological theory as well. In particular, Philo sees human nature as containing two opposed energies — one salvific and salutary, which he calls soteria (so-tay-ree’-ah; the Greek work for salvation), and the other, its antithesis: a destructive force, which he calls phthorá (fthor-ah’; Liddell-Scott; Strong G5356).
Even this much is quite valuable to know. Now we have a name for this opposing principle, our great enemy: phthorá. This is a great advance over not having a name, in which case we must simply experience the effects of this force. With a term, however, we have the ability to form a definite concept, to associate that concept with other concepts, and to think rationally and productively about it.
There would appear to be at least a vague connection between this negative principle and Freud’s concept of death wish, or thanatos. However, for reasons I won’t go into here, I think that phthorá is something more — and more problematic for us — than the Freudian death wish.
As would be expected for something of such vital and fundamental psychological importance, this principle is represented in the world’s mythologies. In Greek mythology, for example, it corresponds to the god Typhon, a many-headed serpent of inconceivable strength and virulence, who is also the god of storms (hence our word, typhoon.)
Each of us is concerned, both each day and moment to moment, with constructing a stable, integrated personality. This corresponds to the state of unity or harmony discussed in my previous article on the monomyth of fall and restoration. Phthorá is that force within us which actively seeks our fall, and, once we’ve fallen, prevents us from rising again to wholeness.
At a phenomenological level, this is experienced as disturbing thoughts which agitate our mind, and distract us from positive, creative, loving and productive cognition. In a very real sense, at least phenomenologically speaking, life is virtually the same as clear and whole awareness of our outer and inner experience. If we look at a meadow and our mind is tranquil, we see the beauty, the details —we are alive to it. The more our mind is agitated, the more our experience comes to approximate semi- and even un-consciousness — and, in that degree, we are only partly alive. In a state of complete mental agitation we could be said to be dead, in the sense that, if we are conscious at all of our surroundings or inner life, the mental impressions are devoid of vitality and vividness (i.e., of life)
I wish to do no more here than to expose this deadly foe by naming him (or her or it). Knowing phthorá exists alone will not stop it. But better to know your foe than to let it wreak havoc unobserved.
I would only add a few additional points:
Written by John Uebersax
February 6, 2015 at 11:50 pm
Posted in Allegorical interpretation, Anagogic exegesis, Bible, Christ, Christianity, Cognitive psychology, Commentary, Eschatology, Exegesis, Jesus Christ, Jung, New Testament, Noetic exegesis, Philo, psychology, Sapiential eschatology, Spiritual warfare, St. Paul, Struggle, Temptation, the Fall
Tagged with cognitive psychology, devil, phthoras, Satan