Francis Berger's Blog, page 18

Would Make an Excellent Tolkien Cover

Carl Gustav Carus - Im Keppgrund bei Hosterwitz - between 1850-55

Interesting, but the Details Are Mostly Unhelpful to Understanding the Metaphysical Reality of Evil

​Those familiar with David Icke know all about the complex webs of evil he constructs via various bloodlines and organizations. Icke insists that these webs weave through the centuries and connect to interdimensional creatures he refers to as Reptilians. 

Icke is not alone in illuminating vast networks of organized, dynastic evil. Many thinkers and writers have also contributed to outlining the history of evil, linking everything back to Babylon, the Phoenicians, or whatever. 

Submit a contemporary politician or other elite to one of these writers, and you’ll get a complicated, detailed, and surprisingly coherent account of how the said member of the elite is related to a couple of pharaohs, several European monarchs, a few U.S. presidents, the Rothschild family, and Kentucky Fried Chicken’s Colonel Sanders. 

I didn't insert the little jab at the end of the paragraph to discredit the work the “evil networks/bloodlines” chroniclers do. In fact, many of their delineations seem plausible and credible, especially when you factor in the enormity of research that has gone into them. 

However, does knowing that Governor So-and-So is the great-great-great-great-grandson of Queen Whatshername, who married into the Fill-in-the-blank bloodline shortly after Pope Questionmark disbanded the Famous Military Order of the Catholic Faith in 1312 really help individuals understand the metaphysical reality of evil in their lives?

If 2020 made anything clear, it was this—an intricate network of evil undeniably exists in this time and place.

However, I often wonder how helpful the sheer volume of complex details linking everything to everyone to the dawn of time is, especially if it is all presented from a purely secular perspective underpinned by secular assumptions. (Actually, I wonder how such a centuries-spanning dynasty of evil could even exist under purely secular assumptions.)

Isn’t it enough to know that supernatural evil exists and it has always and will always utilize all beings willing to align with it? That such alignments against God and Creation can span centuries or more is not inconceivable, but whether they have or whether that even matters nearly as much as the network of evil chroniclers declare is debatable.
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On the other hand, the metaphysical reality of evil is not debatable—and individuals must work out that reality on their own, starting from themselves, their spirit, and their lived experience. 

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The Problems Inherent in "Evidence-Based" Bible Thumping

I make a point of not referring to Scripture much to support the ideas I express on these pages, mostly because Bible interpretation depends almost entirely on motivation, which then influences any subsequent interpretation. 

Also, there’s the matter of confirmation bias, to say nothing of the complexity involved in understanding and then explaining ancient sacred texts written in different languages by individuals from times and cultures whose consciousness differed much from our own. Then there is the “Word of God” argument, which magically disregards the reality that all Scripture is fundamentally secondary and external.

I say this not to dissuade people from reading or interpreting the Bible, only to point out that interpreting Scripture should probably be an individual effort in this time and place, whereby Scripture is approached with the honest “objective” of attaining some form of primary knowledge or understanding. 

That is, Scripture should serve as an intermediary or bridge to personal spiritual knowing and understanding, not as a reference employed to objectively support or prove some professed assumption, dogma, doctrine, or correct teaching. 

As an example, I will touch on the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo and the supposed support of this doctrine in the Bible. Many refer to Genesis 1:1 as their first proof of creation from nothing, but nothing in that first passage explicitly states this. On the contrary, some biblical scholars are ambivalent about Genesis 1:1. Others go as far as to claim it as proof of creatio ex materia. 

And speaking of creatio ex materia, I have often wondered how ex nihilo proponents explain the later creation of both Adam and Eve, not from nothing but from dust and Adam’s rib, respectively. 

Now, I am familiar with plenty of explanations and elucidations that clarify these examples of ex materia as actually being ex nihilo, but they all essentially miss the point. The “fact” remains—if God created everything from nothing, why did He need dust to “form” Adam and Adam’s rib to “form” Eve?
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I raise the example not as an example of an interpretative "mic drop", or to elicit further clarifications from readers or initiate a prolonged comment debate on the origin of first things but to point out that basing one’s metaphysical assumptions predominantly on Scripture and then utilizing that as a baseline form of public argument is a complex and dizzying pursuit, one that keeps individuals focused on secondary, external considerations when the answers they seek exist predominantly in the primary and internal. 

Countering War All the Time Requires Spiritual Creativity

The matter of exactly when the West moved into war-all-the-time mode is debatable. What is not debatable is that the West is indeed in war-all-the-time mode. Physical wars against supposed enemy states and nations represent but a fraction of what war all the time mode involves. At its core, war all the time is a perpetual assault against everyone in the West and beyond.

And yes, everyone does include you. 

War-all-the-time includes the usual perpetual financial marauding, interminable employment erosion, incessantly insincere rhetoric, unmitigated mass migration, unremittingly demoralizing policies, deadening demoralization campaigns, and unabated value inversion. And all of that is but the tip of the iceberg. 

It strikes me that those conducting war all the time have enthusiastically slipped into an unprecedented level of callousness and disregard for what the masses may think or not think. Covert action is a thing of the past. The new code demands war all the time be in your face all the time. Salt is plentiful, as are the wounds into which rub it. 

Of course, at their core, the motivations and objectives are all malevolently spiritual; however, the delectation that inflicting physical and psychological suffering on the masses generates among war-all-the-time generals and their armies is difficult to ignore. 

To say this is the just beginning would be a misstatement, yet there is something in the aggression and cruelty that suggests we are now crossing into “you ain’t seen nothing yet” territory. 

At the center of it all lies the burdensome matter of what one should do, accompanied by the kneejerk response of “making sure you do good.” 

Well, doing good requires an acute understanding of what good is and what good you can actually pursue in your own unique personal circumstances. This entails abandoning many comforting illusions about what good is and what you can or should actually do. Begin with the things you shouldn’t do. Not as easy as assumed, but it’s a start. From there, shift from negative to positive.

War all the time is pure destruction. The good that counters that can only be creative. It must emanate from your spirit and bring forth something the war-all-the-timers could have never imagined, let alone prepared for. 

Attempt to communicate with the Holy Ghost in ways you’ve never tried. Prepare yourself for responses you’ve never encountered and would not have expected.

​Work your way forward from there. 

Carl Gustav Carus in Hungary

The Imperial Castle in Eger - 1824

​Metaphysical Assumption Slam Dunks/Mic Drops Happen in Living, Not Discussion

I have concluded that arguing over metaphysical assumptions is fruitless, particularly when focused entirely on the futile and counterproductive task of trying to prove the unprovable. 

The challenge becomes even more daunting when a set of metaphysical assumptions are approached exclusively from within the framework of a contrasting set of metaphysical assumptions. 

For example, a frank and earnest discussion about the assumed reality of uncreated freedom becomes daunting if the possibility of such an assumed reality is rejected outright. Moreover, such rejection entails disparate definitions of key premises and terms, starting with freedom itself—what it is, where it originated, and what it means. 

Before long, the metaphysical discussion begins to bleed into the realms of ontology and epistemology as efforts to disprove the un-disprovable via various forms of evidence ramp up; evidence selected, formed, interpreted, and defined from the framework of disparate sets of metaphysical assumptions. 

It seems to me that the only fruitful endeavor one can expect from one’s metaphysical assumptions is to live them—to think, feel, and act according to one’s core postulations about the fundamental nature of reality. 

If one is serious and honest about the undertaking, one may experience what could be termed “living proof” of one’s assumptions, and such “living proof” moments are the only “slam dunks” and “mic drops” that assumptions provide. 

Note added: For the sake of clarity, by uncreated freedom, I am not referring only to God's freedom, but all freedom. 

A True Student of Caspar David Friedrich

Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840) is an "ordained" painter here and at other Romantic Christian blogs; however, I was not familiar with the work of his student, Carl Gustave Carus (1789-1869), whom my friend and commenter NLR recently brought to my attention. (Thanks, K!)

​I have been perusing Carus's work ever since and have found him to be a true student of the great Romantic painter, in every sense.  Mondschein über dem Hof einer gotischen Kirche Blick auf Dresden bei Sonnenuntergang

On the Matter of Moving On

This has always been a haphazard area of life for me.

Sometimes it has been incredibly easy—to the point of being natural. At other times, paralysis or wandering in the fog.

Moving on is a rudimentary affair when you know the “on” to which you are moving. Take away that known “on,” and you’re left moving without going anywhere at all.

Is it just me, or have prudent “on’s” becoming increasingly scarce in this world? If that is indeed the case, then the whole point of moving on is specious.

I mean, what’s the point of moving on if the next “on” is no better or worse than the “on” from which you moved?

Moving on becomes superfluous, even futile. At best, it becomes mere escapism.

The older I get, the more I realize that this world contains no truly satisfying “ons.” Ours is a world filled with offs disguised as ons.

​The big “on” is elsewhere and the movement toward that is what makes all the difference. 

The Heretofore Holds the Key to the Hereafter

I’m unsure how many people are familiar with or have read Michel Tournier’s The Ogre. Originally published in 1970, the novel resurfaced as a blip on the public radar in 1996 when it was made into a film starring John Malkovich.

The early parts of the novel—The Sinister Writings of Abel Tiffauges—written in the first person from the protagonist’s point of view, are mystical in tone and somewhat engaging. After that, for reasons I’ll never understand, Tournier alters the narrative voice to the third person, then oscillates between the third-person omniscient narrator and Abel’s first-person narration.

The jarring back and forth between voices shreds the coherence and continuity of the plot, and about two-thirds of the way through the book, Tournier seems to struggle with his creation. The fictional landscape he creates overwhelms him, and the reader can almost sense him struggling to find a coherent way out.

One lay reviewer referred to the novel as “one of those books you can’t put down even though you know that the writer is doing little more than taking a giant shit in your brain.”

It certainly has that feeling at times.

Anyway, I happened to pluck the novel from my shelves the other day and was struck by the  brief but vivid exposition on pre-mortal existence in the book’s second paragraph:

And I do believe I issued from the mists of time. I’ve always been shocked at the frivolous way people agonize about what’s going to happen to them after they die and don’t give a damn about what happened to them before they were born. The heretofore is just as important as the hereafter, especially as it probably holds the key to it.

As for me, I was already there a thousand, a hundred thousand years ago. When the earth was still only a ball of fire spinning around in a helium sky the soul that lit it and made it spin was mine. What’s more, the dizzying antiquity of my origins explains my supernatural power: being and I have traveled side by side for so long, we’re such old companions that while we may not be especially fond of one another, by dint of being together almost since the world began, we understand one another and can’t refuse each other anything.

For me, the part about the “heretofore is just as important as the hereafter, especially as it probably holds the key to it” is a keen insight and represents one of the chief shortcomings of conventional Christian thought.

The seriousness, joy, and beauty of mortal life diminish if it is bookended only by the hereafter. How much richer and more meaningful mortal life becomes if it is also bookended by the heretofore, especially when one includes the idea that the key to the hereafter resides in the heretofore—the “why” of why we are here and “why” we should choose resurrection lays nestled in the decisions we made before our incarnation.  

Note: This post was sparked by an aphorism by Laeth and Dr.Charlton's expansion of the idea.