I would like to respond to Oliver's post on the Ever Dividing catholic Church of Christ. Of course, this is one of the topics that is most interesting to me (and most personal), but I will try to be as objective as possible.
First, I will not disagree that the Catholic Church's attempts to bring different religions together under Pope John Paul II could cause a split in the church. However, I would like to point out a few things. Oliver says, "the addition of more commentary slowly chips off sections of the conservative base of a religion." In this class we have been constructing our idea of religion as always-changing…the "conservative base" is always changing. I don't think you can say that the base is always conservative—it is simply a base. In the case of the Catholic Church, it may be richer in formal tradition, but that is different from conservatism. People often confuse the strong traditions—which are simply actions—for a conservative philosophy. While I realize that John Paul II was new in bringing different traditions together, I hardly think his impact was small on the "base" of the church (the Vatican). Therefore, the description of the base of a religion as "conservative" is not always accurate.
Also, Oliver indicated that the "chips," or minority in religious splits are always not conservative—in other words, the minority is liberal. In the case of the Vatican today, it is hard to tell which way it will go. However, John Paul II was an extremely popular pope, so I doubt that only a small portion will agree with him on this issue. (This opinion also comes, in part, from my personal contact with the Catholic community, so…) In any case, I would like to caution against stereotypes that strongly traditional religions are always conservative, and that splits always leave a majority of conservatives in the "base" of the religion. However, that is not to say the Oliver is not correct that this "warming" to other religions in the Catholic Church will not cause a major split.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Building Ethiopia
While looking at the pictures of Ethiopia (and reading the Kebra Negast), it struck me how isolated they were, and yet how many other cultures influenced theirs. Not only did they influence Ethiopian culture, but Ethiopians also took whole chunks of "defining" images from other cultures. For example, many of the architectural elements are directly borrowed. There was one church that was strikingly similar to Greek (and to some extent Roman) temples, like the Parthenon. Another Ethiopian church adopted Mosque-style ornamentation. Although other cultures have borrowed building styles, it is striking that in Ethiopia they would borrow from other religions' architecture for their own religion's architecture. When Christians began building churches, they borrowed from the style of building used for government purposes in the Roman Empire. They would not have taken the temple plan because it would come with too many cultural associations.
The Kebra Negast seems similar to the borrowing of architectural elements. It takes stereotypical, or well-known images in Christianity and creates a new book with them. In the process, some of the stories are a bit jumbled and changed. For example, the Holy Trinity is part of God's plan from the beginning in the "Genesis" part of the Kebra Negast, where as the Bible does not allude to Jesus or the Holy Spirit until much later. But what is startling is that these elements of other cultures have such a seemingly large impact on Ethiopian culture. However, by "impact", I don't mean that these other cultures always profoundly change Ethiopian culture. I mean that they leave a very bold stamp of identity on Ethiopian culture—it's as if they were writing the stereotypical "--- was here" on Ethiopia.
However, this is not the only way Ethiopia is influenced by other cultures. It seems that because they are isolated, all the information they get about other cultures either comes through telephone-like, in small trickles, or in single, bold statements. Thus the emphasis on the possession of metal crosses and crowns. Missionaries who went to Ethiopia would probably bring crosses to immediately identify them. Some might have brought elaborate-looking crosses in order to "wow" the people they were trying to convert. Ethiopia is not so hard to get to that they never have contact with other cultures, but it is far enough away that other cultures' symbols (like the mosque-style architecture) do not have many cultural associations. Therefore, because of their relative isolation, Ethiopia is able to take aspects of other cultures that they find have surface-appeal, and without cultural baggage, easily incorporate them into their own culture.
The Kebra Negast seems similar to the borrowing of architectural elements. It takes stereotypical, or well-known images in Christianity and creates a new book with them. In the process, some of the stories are a bit jumbled and changed. For example, the Holy Trinity is part of God's plan from the beginning in the "Genesis" part of the Kebra Negast, where as the Bible does not allude to Jesus or the Holy Spirit until much later. But what is startling is that these elements of other cultures have such a seemingly large impact on Ethiopian culture. However, by "impact", I don't mean that these other cultures always profoundly change Ethiopian culture. I mean that they leave a very bold stamp of identity on Ethiopian culture—it's as if they were writing the stereotypical "--- was here" on Ethiopia.
However, this is not the only way Ethiopia is influenced by other cultures. It seems that because they are isolated, all the information they get about other cultures either comes through telephone-like, in small trickles, or in single, bold statements. Thus the emphasis on the possession of metal crosses and crowns. Missionaries who went to Ethiopia would probably bring crosses to immediately identify them. Some might have brought elaborate-looking crosses in order to "wow" the people they were trying to convert. Ethiopia is not so hard to get to that they never have contact with other cultures, but it is far enough away that other cultures' symbols (like the mosque-style architecture) do not have many cultural associations. Therefore, because of their relative isolation, Ethiopia is able to take aspects of other cultures that they find have surface-appeal, and without cultural baggage, easily incorporate them into their own culture.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Religion and Politics
In response to Catrina's post on April 17
In one of her posts, Catrina talked about how we should not assume that all the texts written by people of “one” religion have the same message. Although these texts “[were] written by men who deeply believed in and followed God,” writes Catrina, “religious texts are still written by men, with all of their faults and humanity.” I would like to agree with and expand this idea while making a connection, if somewhat dangerous, to political and/or secular theorists.
I think we talked about, at the beginning of the term, how one main aspect of religion was to give a guide for how to live your life. In a similar way, political theorists write about how a group of people together can live their lives. In come cases, more common many years ago, religion and politics are one in the same. However, while we view political theorists as often updating or refuting prior theories, often changing the entire meaning of the group—as have democrat and republican theories in the US—religion often seems fixed, at least in the main ideas of the group. However, if both are telling people how to live, why is there such a difference in how we read each group’s writings?
It is not just that religious texts have been around for many more years, because they haven’t. For many, many years, in many places, a monarchy was the main political form. Also, democracy is not a new idea—the Romans instituted the first infamous democracy. It is also not just that categorized-as-religious theorists have always been inspired by a deity. In Chuang Tzu’s Basic Writings, he does not reference a higher power, and teaches only that one must follow “the way”. Nevertheless, Chuang Tzu’s writings are definitely spiritual.
Between Chuang Tzu, religion being the same as politics (as is trying to be formed in Iraq), and flowing into more “traditional” religions and political theories such as Christianity and Communism, there seems to be a kind of continuum between the two groups. It is only our imposition of the categories of “religion” and “politics” that we read these things differently. Don’t get me wrong, I am not advocating that religion and politics be mixed in practice. I am simply saying that they serve similar general roles—teaching people how to live—and that that their theoretical writings should be read in similar ways. People may choose which theory (or theories, in the case of, say, a Jewish Democrat) they identify with.
In one of her posts, Catrina talked about how we should not assume that all the texts written by people of “one” religion have the same message. Although these texts “[were] written by men who deeply believed in and followed God,” writes Catrina, “religious texts are still written by men, with all of their faults and humanity.” I would like to agree with and expand this idea while making a connection, if somewhat dangerous, to political and/or secular theorists.
I think we talked about, at the beginning of the term, how one main aspect of religion was to give a guide for how to live your life. In a similar way, political theorists write about how a group of people together can live their lives. In come cases, more common many years ago, religion and politics are one in the same. However, while we view political theorists as often updating or refuting prior theories, often changing the entire meaning of the group—as have democrat and republican theories in the US—religion often seems fixed, at least in the main ideas of the group. However, if both are telling people how to live, why is there such a difference in how we read each group’s writings?
It is not just that religious texts have been around for many more years, because they haven’t. For many, many years, in many places, a monarchy was the main political form. Also, democracy is not a new idea—the Romans instituted the first infamous democracy. It is also not just that categorized-as-religious theorists have always been inspired by a deity. In Chuang Tzu’s Basic Writings, he does not reference a higher power, and teaches only that one must follow “the way”. Nevertheless, Chuang Tzu’s writings are definitely spiritual.
Between Chuang Tzu, religion being the same as politics (as is trying to be formed in Iraq), and flowing into more “traditional” religions and political theories such as Christianity and Communism, there seems to be a kind of continuum between the two groups. It is only our imposition of the categories of “religion” and “politics” that we read these things differently. Don’t get me wrong, I am not advocating that religion and politics be mixed in practice. I am simply saying that they serve similar general roles—teaching people how to live—and that that their theoretical writings should be read in similar ways. People may choose which theory (or theories, in the case of, say, a Jewish Democrat) they identify with.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Garments of "The Concealed One"
I found some of the Zohar chapters very vague and a little confusing, but I would like to try and interpret a little, if I can. Please respond if you feel I am way off.
It seems to me that Elohim and the light—talked about in the third section—are very similar concepts. I am proposing that “the Concealed One” created two layers of a garment, so that the people he created would understand. These garment are explained in two different ways…through Elohim, and through light.
Elohim is said to have been created by “the Concealed One.” They describe this “One” as “the Concealed One”, because it is something we can have no concept of—knowledge of it is concealed from us. This is why (I think) Elohim was created. It is a translation of a concept into terms we as humans can understand—it translates to the idea of God. This makes sense with the text’s reference to Elohim as a palace. The idea of God—Elohim—is the one way “the Concealed One” shows ‘himself’ to those ‘he’ has created. Elohim is a tribute to the “One”, ‘his’ palace on earth. Within this garment, we usually substitute the word “God” for Elohim, or the idea of God. We think we are talking about “the Concealed One”, the highest possible power, but we can really only talk about Elohim, because it is all we have knowledge of. Therefore, we are sometimes confused between God, “the Concealed One”, and God, “Elohim.”
The second layer of garment is the light. The light created is said to have been created by God. I interpret “God” in this instance (and in most instances) as our attempt to allude to “the Concealed One.” This light is knowledge of the concept of the “One,” or Elohim. Few have seen all the light. Only a handful of prophets have been priviledged to have all the knowledge of “the Concealed One” we as humans are capable of. A few rays of light—a few rays of knowledge of the idea of God—filter in here and there and continue to keep “the Concealed One’s” palace alive.
Here is a rudimentary image of this complicated system:
It seems to me that Elohim and the light—talked about in the third section—are very similar concepts. I am proposing that “the Concealed One” created two layers of a garment, so that the people he created would understand. These garment are explained in two different ways…through Elohim, and through light.
Elohim is said to have been created by “the Concealed One.” They describe this “One” as “the Concealed One”, because it is something we can have no concept of—knowledge of it is concealed from us. This is why (I think) Elohim was created. It is a translation of a concept into terms we as humans can understand—it translates to the idea of God. This makes sense with the text’s reference to Elohim as a palace. The idea of God—Elohim—is the one way “the Concealed One” shows ‘himself’ to those ‘he’ has created. Elohim is a tribute to the “One”, ‘his’ palace on earth. Within this garment, we usually substitute the word “God” for Elohim, or the idea of God. We think we are talking about “the Concealed One”, the highest possible power, but we can really only talk about Elohim, because it is all we have knowledge of. Therefore, we are sometimes confused between God, “the Concealed One”, and God, “Elohim.”
The second layer of garment is the light. The light created is said to have been created by God. I interpret “God” in this instance (and in most instances) as our attempt to allude to “the Concealed One.” This light is knowledge of the concept of the “One,” or Elohim. Few have seen all the light. Only a handful of prophets have been priviledged to have all the knowledge of “the Concealed One” we as humans are capable of. A few rays of light—a few rays of knowledge of the idea of God—filter in here and there and continue to keep “the Concealed One’s” palace alive.
Here is a rudimentary image of this complicated system:
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Lamentations as Social Commentary with Religion in a Supporting Role
Lamentations is more of a political and social writing, with the religious elements simply supporting the social aims. I am not saying that the religious elements are not as important. In fact, they are the means by which the social agenda is put forth.
After such a devastating attack such as the sack of Jerusalem, which left people with no means at all with which to fight back, the first step in the rebuilding of the society is to hold together group identity. As we talked about with early Holocene peoples, organized religion is one thing that holds a large group of people together. Lamentations connects to the people by empathizing with what they are feeling, and holds them together as a cohesive group by referencing both the Lord and Jerusalem. The writing takes the anger, sorrow, and hopelessness people must feel and, through allegory, says that this happened to everyone together, not just individuals (using the “you are not alone” technique).
When such a wholly devastating event occurs, it is hard for people to take in the truth—that an enemy has simply become more powerful. Thus, religion is used as a tool for explanation. Not only is religion something that is common among the people of Jerusalem—and functions in bringing the group closer together—but it can function as a means of social change. With no way to fight back, the group simply needs to survive. This means they must prepare for a hard life with patience and humility, until they save up enough strength and unity to free themselves from their conquerors. Through religion, Lamentations achieves these means. Humility is invoked by blaming the sack of the city on God’s anger, which is caused by the sinfulness of the people themselves. God being like a father figure, it is a natural reaction to be at first ashamed when a father is angry, and continue on with humility. Patience is invoked by saying that God “will not reject forever.” Eventually, the conquering people will become weak, as Jerusalem had, and, as long as the people stick together, those now oppressed will be able to break free. Although this is explained as happening when God wills it, the fact that the writing talks about political rising and falling as time goes on shows the understanding of society’s workings—one cannot be continuously on top. However, this viewpoint is usually not very popular, so religion is used to achieve the same social aims.
One issue I am uncertain about is how this writing would have affected the mass of people. Would people have heard prophets, or learned men reading from the writing? Would that have been too dangerous among their conquerors? Or would only the literate be informed about the writing, and then passed on their knowledge in different versions to the mass of people? Or is what is emoted in this work simply written down as the general belief of the people? In any case, I believe it has much more to do with the keeping of social order and cohesiveness, and religion simply supports these aims.
After such a devastating attack such as the sack of Jerusalem, which left people with no means at all with which to fight back, the first step in the rebuilding of the society is to hold together group identity. As we talked about with early Holocene peoples, organized religion is one thing that holds a large group of people together. Lamentations connects to the people by empathizing with what they are feeling, and holds them together as a cohesive group by referencing both the Lord and Jerusalem. The writing takes the anger, sorrow, and hopelessness people must feel and, through allegory, says that this happened to everyone together, not just individuals (using the “you are not alone” technique).
When such a wholly devastating event occurs, it is hard for people to take in the truth—that an enemy has simply become more powerful. Thus, religion is used as a tool for explanation. Not only is religion something that is common among the people of Jerusalem—and functions in bringing the group closer together—but it can function as a means of social change. With no way to fight back, the group simply needs to survive. This means they must prepare for a hard life with patience and humility, until they save up enough strength and unity to free themselves from their conquerors. Through religion, Lamentations achieves these means. Humility is invoked by blaming the sack of the city on God’s anger, which is caused by the sinfulness of the people themselves. God being like a father figure, it is a natural reaction to be at first ashamed when a father is angry, and continue on with humility. Patience is invoked by saying that God “will not reject forever.” Eventually, the conquering people will become weak, as Jerusalem had, and, as long as the people stick together, those now oppressed will be able to break free. Although this is explained as happening when God wills it, the fact that the writing talks about political rising and falling as time goes on shows the understanding of society’s workings—one cannot be continuously on top. However, this viewpoint is usually not very popular, so religion is used to achieve the same social aims.
One issue I am uncertain about is how this writing would have affected the mass of people. Would people have heard prophets, or learned men reading from the writing? Would that have been too dangerous among their conquerors? Or would only the literate be informed about the writing, and then passed on their knowledge in different versions to the mass of people? Or is what is emoted in this work simply written down as the general belief of the people? In any case, I believe it has much more to do with the keeping of social order and cohesiveness, and religion simply supports these aims.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Response to Carissa Keith: Paleolithic Eden
I would like to respond to Carissa's idea of the Paleolithic Eden. First, I really relate to her approach of trying to weld two views together--I often find myself trying to do the same thing. Also, I can completely see where the idea of Eden may have come from--the change from a more individual-focused society with more equality to a society in which some people have much more than others. The Paleolithic must have seemed like Eden to those who did not have as much--they probably would have wondered why society now had to be different. However, some of Carissa's points are misleading. While Paleolithic peoples had much respect for one another and were relatively free from conflict, they were not completely free from hardship. If you take the garden of Eden to mean something more literal--that it actually was utopia, then I would disagree with the connection to the Paleolithic. Paleolithic life was certainly not easy. For one, Paleolithic humans, while free from war, were not completely free from conflict, as an article we read references evidence of human-inflicted injuries and/or causes of death. Also, it is not true that Paleolithic peoples never got sick--there is simply less occurrence of sickness, compared to the Holocene, due to less congestion of people. Also (and I'm not sure if Carissa meant it this way), I would not consider pain in childbirth a disease--even though Genesis might make it seem like a terrible punishment. I would consider it a very unfortunate side-effect of the way humans are built (if women had wider birth canals, we wouldn't be able to walk upright). However, despite these inconsistencies, I do believe that the two ideas can be welded, but perhaps with the story of Eden being a little less literally interpreted. Perhaps simply with the idea that some people of the Holocene told nostalgic stories about the Paleolithic past when life was simpler (without knowledge, as Genesis might say), but certainly not at all easy.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Religion and Spirituality in Prehistory
One major trend in prehistory is moving away from a focus on the individual and towards a focus on the community. With regards to religion, this would translate as a move from spirituality to organized religion. Even before modern homo sapiens, Neanderthals showed an intense knowledge of others in the group. Organizing cooperative hunts of large animals with no capacity for language requires a deep knowledge of each individual in order to understand the details of what others are trying to communicate. This deep knowledge of each individual keeps the group closely knit and quite social. Here I want to distinguish what I mean by “social,” and conversely, what I mean by “society.” To be truly social as the Neanderthals were, this intimate knowledge of others is crucial. Recursively, in order to create and maintain this intimate knowledge among a community, the members must be very social with each other—in other words, interact with each individual frequently. Society has less to do with how well each individual interacts with other individuals, but how well the group functions as a whole. For Neanderthals, the welfare of their society depended upon how social each individual was.
Although Neanderthals did not have the capacity for abstraction—which is a necessary component of language, spirituality, and organized religion—the first anatomically modern humans did have this capacity. Mixed with a Neanderthal-like lifestyle in small bands, it is my speculation that this abstraction created a sense of individual spirituality in humans. Although the art created by these early people is strictly representational, it is hard to imagine that people with the same capacity for abstraction as we have today would not wonder about the world—the big question being, “Why are we here?” It is my belief that spirituality, in its most basic form, is more of an abstract aesthetic sense, rather than a knowingness that many religions today talk of (although this “sense” is certainly part of religions). Therefore, spirituality is more flexible, yet also much more individually-focused. I imagine the Paleolithic spirituality as very personal—raw spirituality. Given their reliance on language, it is hard to imagine that these people would not share their spiritual thoughts with others. However, it is unlikely that their ideas lined up exactly. Within these communities, spirituality likely was not fixed, and often fluctuated due to the small number of people with which individuals interacted. Thus, the individual had more sway on the next generation’s ideas.
Although Neanderthals did not have the capacity for abstraction—which is a necessary component of language, spirituality, and organized religion—the first anatomically modern humans did have this capacity. Mixed with a Neanderthal-like lifestyle in small bands, it is my speculation that this abstraction created a sense of individual spirituality in humans. Although the art created by these early people is strictly representational, it is hard to imagine that people with the same capacity for abstraction as we have today would not wonder about the world—the big question being, “Why are we here?” It is my belief that spirituality, in its most basic form, is more of an abstract aesthetic sense, rather than a knowingness that many religions today talk of (although this “sense” is certainly part of religions). Therefore, spirituality is more flexible, yet also much more individually-focused. I imagine the Paleolithic spirituality as very personal—raw spirituality. Given their reliance on language, it is hard to imagine that these people would not share their spiritual thoughts with others. However, it is unlikely that their ideas lined up exactly. Within these communities, spirituality likely was not fixed, and often fluctuated due to the small number of people with which individuals interacted. Thus, the individual had more sway on the next generation’s ideas.
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