Grounded in Love

The following is based on a reflection that I shared at the 8 a.m. service at church on Jan. 15, 2012. "Faith at Eight" is usually a small gathering of 15-20 people, in which we read from the scriptures, have a reflection period to discuss the readings, and have holy communion.

In today's reading from Paul's Letter to the Ephesians (3:14-21), Paul says, "grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love."

      What then does it mean to be rooted and grounded in love? What defines a state of rootedness or groundedness? What does it mean for someone or something to be uprooted or ungrounded? How should we respond when we're confronted with a sense of rootlessness or groundlessness?

      Pema Chödrön (2011), a Buddhist nun, teacher, and writer, described her concept of groundlessness as signifying a state of questioning and searching for meaning. She used the term "spiritual materialism" (which is an oxymoron, but that's the term she used) to describe a kind of misguided response to the experience of groundlessness. She said, 

"My understanding of spiritual materialism is using...spiritual teachings to build up your...ego...[and] as a way to get ground under your feet, rather than seeing spiritual teachings as stepping into groundlessness. Groundlessness keeps opening up as the teachings evolve...sometimes you see people...they're proclaiming their spirituality by how they're walking and dressing and things like that...That's what I think of as spiritual materialism. To avoid [this] would be to keep your mind open and always question and explore, be inquisitive, [and] curious...Materialism usually means material things. People use clothes and furniture and cars and everything you can think of to comfort themselves or to feel secure. Spiritual materialism is using spirituality the same way as materialism, instead of spirituality being something that introduces you to the true nature of reality, which is...impermanent and changing."¹

      In a televised interview with Bill Moyers in 2006, Pema Chödrön also said,

"if we could learn not to be afraid of groundlessness, not be afraid of insecurity and uncertainty, then it would be calling on an inner strength that would allow us to be open and free and loving and compassionate in any situation...What is groundlessness? Well, you experience it all the time...When my husband told me that we were breaking up, you know, he was having an affair and he wanted a divorce, that was a big groundless moment for me. [On 9-11] When the planes flew into the towers, everyone felt groundlessness. It was like our reality as we knew it wasn't holding together."²

      So I think that Pema Chödrön's concept of groundlessness is similar in some ways to the poet John Keats's concept of "negative capability." Keats, in a letter to his brothers in December 1817, said that negative capability is a state in which an individual "is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, [and] doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason." Thus, negative capability is a capacity to live with ambiguity and paradox, to be open to the world, to be receptive to new impressions, and to reconcile ourselves to doubt and uncertainty.

      Existentialist philosophers like Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir also emphasize the importance of being able to reconcile ourselves to doubt and uncertainty. De Beauvoir, in The Ethics of Ambiguity, says that "Existentialism is a philosophy of ambiguity,"³ and Sartre, in Being an Nothingness, says that our awareness of our capacity to make choices may result in anxiety, because we become aware of our responsibility for our own free choices, and of the possibility of meaninglessness and nothingness.

      Thus, we may face that same ambiguity and uncertainty in whether we should embrace or avoid groundlessness. Being grounded in love doesn't necessarily mean that we must always strive to avoid groundlessness as a source of doubt and uncertainty. It may in fact help us to respond to situations in which we're confronted with ambiguity and uncertainty.

      I think that our desire to avoid the state of groundlessness may be seen in our rejection of statements that we consider to be unfounded, baseless, unsupported by adequate evidence, or presented without sufficient reason.

      Why do we experience such anxiety when we feel the ground shifting beneath our feet? Our fear of groundlessness may be a sense of impending catastrophe or a feeling that something unpredictable may happen. It may also be our fear of actions that we perceive as irrational, such as acts of vandalism, mass shootings, suicide bombings, and other acts of violence or terrorism.

      Another example of our fear of groundlessness may be our use of the term "ground zero" to describe the site of an earthquake, explosion, or natural disaster.

      Thomas Crum (1998), an expert in the field of stress management and conflict resolution, says we will always face struggles and conflicts in our lives, but that it's our relationship to those struggles and conflicts that can be changed. The feeling of groundlessness can be a feeling of uncertainty, a feeling of the rug being pulled out from under us. But Crum says that "instead of seeing the rug...pulled out from under us, we can learn to dance on a shifting carpet. The stumbling blocks of the past [can] become the stepping stones to the future."⁴

      The apostle Paul, in his Letter to the Ephesians (3:17-19), tells the Ephesians that he bows before God so that "Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have power...to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."

      Thus, the answer to our feelings of groundlessness may be to let ourselves be grounded in love, and to let love become the ground of our being. If we do this, then we will recognize that our redemption through Christ is the ground of our hope and salvation.

      The feeling of being groundless may be a feeling that we have no adequate grounds for our beliefs, and that we aren't rationally justified in holding the beliefs we have about the world. It may also be a feeling that there is no God, no apparent reason or purpose in our lives, and no reason why things are as they are.

      Thus, the theologian Paul Tillich describes the term "God" as a term for the ground of our being. He says that "the religious word for what is called the ground of being is God," and that God is not only the ground of being, but also the ground of revelation. The mystery of revelation is its depth, its limitlessness, and its ineffable and inexhaustible character.⁵

      The solution to the problem of groundlessness may therefore be to find our ground in God's love, and to remember that another way of looking at groundlessness may be to see it as an opportunity to reorient ourselves toward the world of change and to be more open to the world of possibility.

      Thomas Merton, a Cistercian monk, writer, poet, and social activist, says,

"If the deepest ground of my being is love, then in that very love itself and nowhere else will I find myself, and the world, and my brothers [and sisters] in Christ. It's not a question of either/or--but of all in one...of wholeness...and unity...which finds the same ground of love in everything."⁶

      We might also consider the meaning of the slang expression, "rock my world." If  someone or something rocks your world, then you may have a feeling that your world has become unstable, that you have had groundless preconceptions of things, and that you need to change your way of thinking about the world. What kinds of things can rock your world? Has someone's kindness and generosity ever rocked your world? Has an unexpected word of encouragement from a parent, teacher, or friend ever rocked your world? Why do we so often feel a need to have our feet on the ground and to have a clear sense of direction? What then does it mean to be grounded in love?

FOOTNOTES

¹Pema Chödrön, "Stepping into Groundlessness: Interview with Pema Chödrön," by Monty McKeever, Tricycle, December 13, 2011.

²Pema Chödrön, "Bill Moyers on Faith & Reason" (Public Affairs Television, August 4, 2006), online at https://www.pbs.org/moyers/faithandreason/print/faithandreason107_print.html

³Simone de Beauvoir, The Ethics of Ambiguity, translated by Bernard Frechtman (New York: Philosophical Library, 1948), p. 9.

⁴Thomas Crum, The Magic of Conflict: Turning a Life of Work into a Work of Art (New York: Simon & Shuster, 1998), p. 15.

⁵Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology, Volume I (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1951), p. 156.

⁶Thomas Merton, Contemplation in a World of Action (New York: Doubleday, 1971), pp. 155-156

The End of the World

Are we the generation that's witnessing

The end of the world

The end of democracy

The end of voting rights

The end of "all men are created equal"

The end of truth

The end of rational discourse

   in American politics

The end of the typewriter

The end of the telephone book

The end of the phone booth

The end of Brooks Brothers 

The end of Kinney Shoes and Borders Books

The end of Sports Authority, RadioShack, and Toys R US

The end of shopping malls

The end of audio cassette players

The end of VHS tapes

The end of five-and-dime stores

The end of the lunch counter

The end of racial and religious bigotry

The end of lawn jockeys

The end of FOR WHITES ONLY

The end of Uncle Ben and Aunt Jemima

The end of sexism and misogyny

The end of "boys will be boys"

The end of homophobia and transphobia

The end of xenophobia

The end of everything that's backward, 

                     outdated, or obsolescent?

Hegel on Self-Consciousness

According to Hegel, self-consciousness (Selbstbewusstsein) is being-for-itself (Fürsichsein), but as an object for another self or consciousness, it is also being-for-another (für-ein-Anderes-Sein). But this "other" is inessential to self-consciousness. The essential reality of that which has being-for-itself is not in an "other," but in self-existence (Fürsichsein). The self-consciousness that is for-itself is independent, but the self-consciousness that is for-another is dependent.

      Hegel likens the relation between independent and dependent self-consciousness to that between Lordship and Bondage or between Master and Servant. The Lord or Master (der Herr) is the consciousness that exists for itself and is independent of being determined by an "other," but the Bondsman or Servant (der Knecht) is the consciousness that is held in subjection by the Master and depends on being determined by an "other." The consciousness of the "other" is inessential to independent self-consciousness (selbständige Selbstbewusstsein), but it's a determining factor for dependent self-consciousness (unselbständige Selbstbewusstsein).The self-consciousness that is conscious of being divided between the self and the "other" is described by Hegel as "the unhappy consciousness" (das unglückliche Bewusstsein), because it can't reconcile the self and the "other." The undivided consciousness, on the other hand, is a dual self-consciousness that reconciles and unifies the self and the "other." Thus, the object of this undivided consciousness is its own essential being, which is the immediate unity of being-in-itself (Ansichsein) and being-for-itself (Fürsichsein).¹

      The "unhappy consciousness" experiences itself as internally contradictory and inwardly disrupted, because it's divided between independent and dependent self-consciousness and hasn't yet realized that their unity is its essential nature.

      Could other causes of unhappiness, such as personal loss, frustration, disappointment, anger, guilt, social rejection, and stressful personal relationships also be seen be seen as resulting from internal conflicts between a self that recognizes its true reality and a self that doesn't? Perhaps the freedom of independent self-consciousness may also be a freedom from such causes of unhappiness. Thus, Hegel describes Stoicism as an example of the freedom of self-consciousness. He also describes Scepticism as the actual experience of what is involved in freedom of thought.

      Hegel further delineates the relation between independent and dependent self-consciousness by saying that self-consciousness exists in and for itself when it so exists for another self-consciousness.²

      (This delineation might lead one to think that another's self-consciousness could become an object for one's own consciousness, and that one's own self-consciousness could become an object for another's self-consciousness. But at the same time, one's own self-consciousness couldn't be experienced by another in exactly the same way that one oneself experiences it, nor could another's self-consciousness be experienced by oneself in exactly the same way that they experience it.)

      Consciousness may have moments (or stages) of being-in-itself (insofar as it is in-itself), being-for-itself (insofar as its essence is unconditioned universality),³ being-in-and-for-itself (insofar as it so exists for another), and being-for-another (insofar as it's conscious of another). These moments may take the form of Notions (or Concepts) of modes of Being. Being-for-self and being-for-another may have a reciprocal relation, but they may be unified by the Understanding (that the unconditioned universal is the true object of consciousness). Being-in-itself and being-for-another are actually the same,³ insofar as being-for-another becomes (or returns to the mode of) being-in-itself when consciousness becomes itself as the essential being of all reality.

      For Hegel, consciousness is spiritual. Self-consciousness is the Notion (Begriff) of Spirit (Geist), which knows itself to be all reality. Reality is also spiritual. Spirit is the inner being of the world, which may assume an objective, determinate form as an object of consciousness and enter into relations with itself.

      The spiritual is that which has being-in-itself, and which may have determinations of being-for-itself and being-for-another. In its external relations to itself, it is being-in-and-for-itself.⁴

      Consciousness is also rational. Self-consciousness is Reason (Vernunft), and Reason is the certainty of consciousness that it is all reality.⁵ Reason is Spirit, and it's conscious of itself. (We can reason about our reasoning, and Reason will reveal the self of self-consciousness.) Consciousness, self-consciousness, Reason, and immediate Spirit that is not yet self-conscious are moments of the totality of Spirit.⁶

      Sense-certainty (sinnliche Gewissheit), perception (Wahrnehmung) and understanding (Verstand) are moments (or stages) of consciousness. Sense-certainty is a pure immediacy of knowledge (that something is). Pure being constitutes the essence of sense-certainty.⁷ Perception is an awareness that an object is universal and unconditioned by sensation. Understanding is a recognition that the unconditioned universality (unbedingte Allgemeinheit) of the true object of consciousness transcends sensation and perception.

      Consciousness is the simple substance of Spirit, and Spirit is (or becomes) conscious of itself as Spirit. The self-knowing Spirit is, in its consciousness of absolute Being, its own pure self-consciousness.⁸ The representation of the Absolute as Spirit is the most sublime Notion.⁹ Absolute Being is the self-consciousness of Spirit.¹⁰ The Spirit that knows itself as Spirit is Science, and the coming-to-be of this Science is what is described by the Phenomenology of Spirit.¹¹

FOOTNOTES

¹G.W.F. Hegel, Phenomenology of Spirit [1807], translated by A.V. Miller (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977), p. 120.

²Ibid., p. 111.

³Ibid., p. 104

⁴Ibid., p. 14.

⁵Ibid., pp. 139-140.

⁶Ibid., pp. 412-413.

⁷Ibid., p. 59.

⁸Ibid., p. 411

⁹Ibid., p. 14.

¹⁰Ibid., p. 410.

¹¹Ibid., pp. 14-15.

Some Objections to the Simulation Hypothesis

My first objection to the version of the simulation hypothesis described by David Chalmers (2022), that we are and always been living in a computer simulation of a world,¹ is that if we can't prove we're not living in a computer simulation, then that doesn't necessarily mean we're living in one. If Chalmers wants to convince us that we're most likely living in a computer simulation, then it's up to him to provide sufficient evidence for that hypothesis (and I don't think he does). The burden of proof is on him, because he's proposing something that isn't intuitively evident and that in fact contradicts what we'd assume from our daily experience (that the world we inhabit is the actual world, and not a computer simulation).

      If Chalmers wants us to entertain the possibility that we're living in a computer simulation, then it's up to him to provide sufficient evidence that this is the case (and I don't think he does). Merely describing the lack of proof that we're not living in a computer simulation isn't sufficient to prove we're living in one (and in fact he admits he can't prove it). Indeed, it's no more sufficient than saying that anything that can't be proven not to be the case may actually be the case (which is true, but trivial and doesn't account for how unlikely that case may be).

      My second objection to his version of the simulation hypothesis is that he says we're living in a computer simulation of a world, which could be taken to mean any world, virtual or actual. So we might only be living in a simulation of a simulation (or even a simulation of a simulation of a simulation, ad infinitum), which is rather implausible. His version of the simulation hypothesis doesn't say anything about the actual world or even that there is an actual world (perhaps because he's asking us to consider the possibility that the world we're actually living in is a simulation). However, a simulation of a world could be a simulation of any world at all, no matter how impoverished or bereft of possibility, and no matter how unlike the world of daily human experience. (Although, of course, the simulation would indeed be like the world of daily human experience if that world is in fact impoverished and bereft of possibility, as it may be for many people who live in severe poverty. But then it would be rather callous and unfeeling to suggest that people living in severe poverty are merely living in a simulated or virtual world, and not the world of actual reality. So that exigency might be another reason for rejecting the simulation hypothesis.)

      We must also ask, "If we can neither prove nor disprove that we're living in a computer simulation, then is the question of whether we're living in a computer simulation still a meaningful question?" Perhaps it's only meaningful insofar as we understand it as an aporia. On the other hand, if we can prove that we're not living in a computer simulation, then it may merely serve to remind us of the limitations of computer simulations.

      I think the simulation hypothesis may be an act of mental gymnastics, a means of suggesting we can't know anything if we can't prove that the world we're living in isn't a computer simulation. But that rhetorical strategy doesn't preclude the possibility of our having genuine knowledge of some simulated or virtual world, if that's the world we happen to be living in at the moment. And it doesn't preclude the possibility of a simulated or virtual (or even imaginary) world that seems as real to us as the actual world. Some simulated or virtual worlds may seem or may perhaps even be as real to us as the actual world, and I think we may draw meaningful conclusions from inhabiting them.

      Aside from my objections to the simulation hypothesis, I found Chalmers's Reality + (2022) to be a very enlightening and entertaining book, and it's a brilliant exposition of virtual worlds and the problems they pose for philosophy. Chalmers describes the approaches of Eastern and Western philosophy to the question of the difference between appearance and reality, and he shows how the Knowledge Question ("Can we know whether or not we're in a virtual world?"), the Reality Question ("Are virtual worlds real or illusory?"), and the Value Question ("Can you live a good life in a virtual world?") correspond to three of the central branches of philosophy (epistemology, metaphysics, and value theory).²

FOOTNOTES
¹David J. Chalmers, Reality +: Virtual Worlds and the Problems of Philosophy (New York: W.W. Norton, 2022), p. 29.

²Ibid., p. 17.

This is My Church

Below is a reflection I shared at the "Faith at Eight" service at church on Sunday, May 12, 2024.

This past Thursday, I tuned into a webinar on Zoom that was attended by about 160 people. It was a follow-up to the "It's All About Love" festival of The Episcopal Church that was held in Baltimore last summer. The webinar was entitled "Empowering People of Color in Diocesan Life," and it was led by three Episcopal priests from the diocese of Washington State. One of the priests, the Rev. Rachel Taber-Hamilton, who's of indigenous and First Nations ancestry, spoke about how at various times in her ministry she's had to confront the Church's apparent lack of interest in promoting inclusiveness with regard to people of color. One thing she said that I found very meaningful was that when she had confronted exclusion in the past, she had responded by saying, "This is my Church."

      I think "This is my church" can be a very powerful, as well as empowering statement. At the same time, it's a reminder that being a member of a church shouldn't mean being disempowered because of your race, gender, ethnicity, age, socioeconomic status, or sexual orientation. 

      "This is my church" means that I'm just as much a member as you are, and that we're equally members of the church. It means that this is my church, just as it's your church, and that we both share in a community of faith, hope, love, and fellowship. It means that it's no more my church than your church, and no more your church than my church. It means that it's a church for everyone who wants to find a place of acceptance, fellowship, and belonging. It means that I have a right to speak and have my voice heard, just as you do. It means that I have a ministry within the church, just as you do, because every member of the church has a ministry by virtue of being baptized. It means that I feel I belong here, and that if the church hasn't yet empowered all its members to feel this sense of belonging, then it has work to do. It means that if this is my Church, then I should be able to fully participate at every level in the life of the church--in its mission, governance, stewardship, evangelism, and leadership.

      But "This is my church" is a statement that also entails a lot of responsibility. If this is my church, then I'm responsible for recognizing, telling the truth about, and responding to any instances in which the church has failed to promote equity, peace, and justice, as well as any instances in which the church has failed to acknowledge and respect the dignity of all human beings. If this is my church, then I'm also responsible for trying to heal the breach between the church and any of those whom it has ignored, shunned, disrespected, or marginalized. If this is my church, then I'm also responsible for trying to heal the brokenness and conflicts within myself, as well as within my local community and the broader society.

      Being able to say "This is my church" means that if I want the church to listen, then I must listen. If I want the church to be kind and welcoming, then I must be kind and welcoming. If I want the church to feed the hungry and protect the needy, then I must feed the hungry and protect the needy. If I want the church to promote fairness and justice, then I must promote fairness and justice.

      In a church with mostly white members, and in which the perspectives of its black members haven't always been fully taken into account, I've sometimes asked myself in the past whether I belong here. But my maternal great-grandparents had their children baptized in an Episcopal church, so being an Episcopalian is something that's been passed along through generations of my family and is in some ways my birthright. If I don't belong in this church, then where do I belong? This is the church where I've found acceptance, kindness, friendship, and community.

      I think I've asked others a few times in the past whether Memorial Episcopal Church thinks of itself as a white church or some other kind of church, and I think I've come away with the feeling that we're some other kind of church. But I think the correct, and perhaps the only viable, answer to what kind of church we are is that we're not a white church or a black church--we're God's church. And we all belong here.