Blog
Sunday,
January 06, 2008
This is what I have to date.
Hope everyone is enjoying Hildegard.
See you in class tomorrow.
Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School
Reading Reflection: In Preparation for Class Two
Submitted for
CH 1604: Topics in Mysticism
Robert Dean
Rochester, NY
January 4, 2007
In considering the Song of Songs and the Gospel of John as mystical texts, I find myself amazed. The main reason for my amazement is the difference in the nature of the texts. The two texts seemingly come from opposing worldviews, and yet both have been considered mystical texts.
The Gospel of John begins in a very Greek way. Jesus first appears as the disembodied word who was God.[1] Jesus has not taken physical form, and if viewed from a Gnostic viewpoint, could be seen as remaining free from the corruption of corporeal nature. As the Gospel progresses, Jesus enters creation and became flesh.[2] To a certain extent, John could even be seen as distancing God from Jesus in the process. John 1.18 states that nobody has seen God, even though Jesus was God prior to incarnation, but they have seen Jesus who is close to God’s heart. There is a subtle derogatory tone towards the flesh in the opening verses of the gospel, and throughout Jesus’ dealings with humanity.
The Song of Songs has an entirely different tone. The entire book drips with sensuality. The words are strung together expertly, taking actions that the Gnostic Greeks might consider corrupt and lowly, and connecting them together like string on a harp. Although there are mentions of violence and indications of struggle in the text,[3] the book generally dwells lovingly on the beauty of God’s created order and especially on the most primal nature of humanity. The author of the Song of Songs cherishes the physical nature of things and dwells on it with adoration and grace.
I find myself amazed that these clearly opposing texts were both read as mystical texts by the same people at the same time. While one could certainly sanitize the Song of Songs by reading a different meaning that what is in plain sight, surely there is some pull towards the sensual when you read such stirring poetry. While one could certainly gloss over the subtle downplaying of corporeal nature, one would surely realize that there is something greater becoming somewhat lesser by taking a human form. Both of these texts are mystical, and they create tension with one another. Their tension brings out the beauty in both of their contrasting visions
.You may want to use fewer hard breaks. You have stepped into a fascinating hermeneutical circle: that Scripture passages, perhaps because they are scripture, have both an evocative and a literal meaning. In that respect, the Bible or the Quaran or Talmud serves as much as a mirror of the soul, individual or corporate, as they do of the times in which they are written. In terms of non-literary art, we are very familiar with the distance between the reading of an icon by a art historian or by Rowan Williams and the reading of that same icon by a people bowing in prayer before it. Part of the art of interpreting religion is to find ways to hold both of these together in one’s interpretation of a religious phenomenon.
CH1604
-- E-mail Seminar #1
Andrew
C. Files
Due:
NOTE: I have no interest in
seeing anyone else’s responses/analyses.
The
Gospel of John
The Gospel of John
has been my favorite book of the bible for quite some time. What Jesus says, and how he says it, has just
somehow (by the grace of God) resonated for me.
But I have learned that interpretations and meanings gleaned from
Scripture can change over time. For
instance, since I took ST1601 (Living Trinitarian Faith), I now am able to appreciate
much more Jesus’ place within the Trinity as revealed in this Gospel. The most obvious place is in the Prologue
(John 1:1-18) but it also seems to come into play in other places, such as in
John
But getting back to
the mystical nature of the Gospel of John, there is just so much there; the
Gospel seems to reek of language that is intentionally not blunt or blatant in
its meaning. The language is mysterious
in a way because of how it explains a message, but not necessarily one that
everyone can understand or agree upon.
But the “story” the Gospel tells, and especially the truths that Jesus
explains, are wonderful in a sense that is very difficult to describe. I guess what is so unique is that not only
can we consider this Gospel as mystical in nature, and pregnant with meaning,
but it is also part of Holy Scripture and therefore inspired by God. So, the truths available to us here,
especially those spoken to us by Jesus, can carry all the more authority for
those of us who consider ourselves Christian than maybe the mystical writings
of a Saint or a great philosopher. In a
way, the teachings in this Gospel in large part have the flavor of a parable
where the meaning is “hidden” to many, but that does
not mean that the meaning (or truth) of what is said is any less important (but
actually maybe more important) than what is plainly written (or spoken).
Song
of Songs
I have only read the
Song of Songs a few times, and this may be related to the fact that the text
does not do much for me spiritually. It
is lovely poetry, but from a spiritual perspective – even when I read how it is
often times described as the relationship between God and
As with the Gospel of
John, the Song of Songs is Holy Scripture and as such its writing is inspired
by God. As such, it has intrinsic value
and thus must be treated with respect and any difficulty in understanding is to
be attributed to the reader and not the text.
Thus, I just hope that there may come a time when I am graced enough to
understand this text from a spiritual perspective and not just as nice poetry.
CH1604
-- E-mail Seminar #2
Andrew
C. Files
Due:
January 7, 2008
NOTE: I have no interest in
seeing anyone else’s responses/analyses.
Hildegard
of Bingen
First of all, let me
say that I enjoyed this reading for the most part. My concern is what to do with it? That is,
how to treat it? Since it is not Holy
Scripture, what do I make of the teachings and the visions? Do I follow their prescriptions steadfastly
or just acknowledge that some things “make sense” or that other things “ring
true most of the time”? I only hope (and
pray) that the Holy Spirit will one day make the answers to this issue more
obvious to me.
For the sake of this
assignment and my readings of the passages assigned, let’s not treat them casually, but rather let’s treat them as divinely
inspired (although not as Holy Scripture, since they aren’t). As such, I was very impressed with the amount
of teaching that went on in these readings – especially about the Trinity and
the Eucharistic sacrament. I also
enjoyed the fact that the meanings of the “visions” were described and
interpreted, as opposed to the Song of Songs where it is strictly up to the
reader to make an interpretation. Along
those lines, I was pleased to see references in Hildegard to the Song of Songs with
interpretations included. It
helped to tie together this reading assignment with the previous reading
assignment.
Getting back to
treating the readings as divinely inspired….as such, again, I am impressed by
the degree of teaching that is involved.
And since it tends to be teaching, I would tend to classify Hildegard as
coming from the “intellectual” side as opposed to the “way of love” side with
regards to the style of writing. And
there were many passages that hit home with me, but one of them from Vision
Three (paragraph 21) is very impressive, “O human, if a stone lay before you on
which, if you looked carefully, you could read what was going to happen to
you,… Now what would that stone have conferred on you? Would it have taken away
or given you anything? It could not be
either against you or for you.” What
strikes me about that passage is that it is so true with many events in our
lives. They neither convey good or bad,
but rather it is how we interpret them and what we let our minds do with the
events, that makes them, to us, either good or bad. They are quite often nothing by themselves.
Another set of
passages I found interesting were the ones in Vision Six
(paragraph 31 and others) which talk about there being water and wine in the
Eucharist and not just wine. Is this
admonition followed today, either in the Catholic Church or in the
Ernest
Corbin
Topics
in Mysticism
Class
II
After
reflecting upon the Song of Songs and the Gospel of John one can clearly see
why these books became significant for Christian mystics. They are different kinds of literature,
written in different languages and at different eras, but provide to the mystic
different ways of seeking the divine. It
struck me how the Song of Songs seemed to be a template for the “Way of Love”
type of mysticism and the Gospel of John for the “Intellectual” approach. These two works contained in the same body of
literature, i.e. the Bible, would seem to offer Christians a well-rounded
approach to mysticism or at least provide them with several canonically
approved options for it.
The
Song of Songs as allegorically understood as the relationship between the soul
and God is the great mystical love story of humanity and its Creator. The use of romantic and sexual imagery is a
profound metaphor for the union between the soul and God. The Song of Songs in describing the deep
longing between two lovers humanizes the longing that God has for us and we
have for God. It is almost surprising
that Christian mystical writers would be open to such an interpretation. Perhaps their openness goes beyond simply
dealing with a troubling text, but shows the kind of longing they had for their
God.
The
Gospel of John seems to be a jumping off point for the “Intellectual”
approach. While a complex cosmology or
ontology is not explicitly described or deeply expounded upon, it seems to be
assumed even with the first words of the Gospel, logos having a much deeper meaning than simply verbum or Word and containing its own philosophical connotations
beyond the Christian Scriptures. But
beyond even the reflection that the idea of logos
would provide, John’s Gospel speaks of veiled realities, of rebirth, of earthly
and heavenly things, and uses symbolic language. All of these would seem to provide a deep
well from which mystical writers could draw upon.
Jessica Moore
jreginamoore@hotmail.com
On the Song of Songs and the Gospel
of John
I enjoyed the Song of Songs very
much, I hadn't read it before and (though, I had been told about it and
expected it ) was surprised at the lush imagery. Since romantic love is among the strongest
passions a human can experience, I found the emotion easy to understand. The series of poems puts me in mind of Gn 1:27 "And God created man in His image, in the
image of God He created him; male and female He created them". Perhaps, its through the union of the male and female that we
get closest to God. Is the product of
such a union (a child) akin to creation?
Is the creation from God (ex nihilo) mirrored in child birth (not that a
child is created out of nothing, but it does usher forth from the
mother, she does not 'sculpt' it out of rock, for instance) ?
When I was first reading the poems I
assumed that the female imagery referred to Israel (or to the human element of
the relationship). However, the passages
of the poems which compare the women to the perfection found in natural, earthy
elements seem more like descriptions of the divine: "Your limbs are an
orchard of pomegranates" (4:13) "Your breasts are like two fawns,
Twins of a gazelle, Browsing among the lilies"(4:5) This is unusual imagery and makes me
think of 'you' as God and the 'fawns' as
humans browsing in creation. If the
female imagery does not refer to God (in this case): Is it possible that such
perfection can be so easily found in the human?
Some of the imagery I found
especially interesting was the description of the lover as being 'dove' eyed
and the recurring image of cedar.
"Your eyes are like doves" (4:1) the use of dove strikes me as
unusual; the Greeks use the term 'cow eyed' as a description of beauty and, if
I'm remembering correctly, that the Indian culture also use 'cow eyed'. How modern is the identification of a dove
with peace? Is it possible that this association is imbedded in the dove-eye
description?(Wishful thinking on my part). "If she be a door, We will panel it with
cedar"(8:9) As the daughter of an expert knitter I've been taught to be
I'm a fan of cedar; not only for its strength, but also, for its ability to
protect (itself and objects it surrounds or is exposed to) from infestations--a
protector of purity?.
I respond to the narrative voice in the Gospel of John--it somehow seems familiar. Its nature is almost purely metaphorical (or at least this is how I perceive it), and I'm comfortable in this realm (esp. when it comes to events like miracles etc) . Perhaps, its my typical 'scientific' post 'enlightenment' education that keeps me entrenched in linear thought. As a linear thinker, I have a difficult time with the Holy Spirit impregnating the virgin Mary--however, "In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God and the word was God..."(1:1) gives me insight into something I wouldn't have otherwise: The role and the relationship. (Although, quite frankly, this points to something too big and all encompassing for me, not to feel a little panic.) "Father, glorify me in thy own presence with the glory which I had with thee before the world was made." (17:5); "for I have given them the words which thou gavest me, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from thee"(17:8) I know I am not alone in responding to the Christ as the word of God. In thinking about the word of God: In a sense being part of creation are we surrounded with the word of God and a part of the word of God ("God said let there be..."Gn1) what fickle creatures we are to need the word incarnate to explain to us of what we should have an intimate knowledge. Not only were we tutored by the 'word' we are counseled by the Holy Spirit "But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you."(14:18)--we clearly need a lot help to know God. Why are we this way? Why do we hesitate?
I have often read John before, but reading it for the purpose of finding examples of mysticism showed me new things. The familiar prologue is full of repetition: Word, life, light. Repetition comes again at the end, when Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves him (21:15-17). John cries out in the wilderness (1:23) and “saw the Spirit come down from heaven like a dove” (1:32), seeming that John is himself a mystic who can’t keep quiet about what he’s seen and using “like” language. “No one has ever seen God” (1:18), then the book goes on to show God through his son Jesus. The first things we learn about Jesus is that he can see things far away, such as Nathanael under the fig tree (1:48), and he can perform miracles, such as changing water into wine at Cana (2:1-10). There seems to be the earthiness of drinking, as in the choice of wine for the first miracle, and eating, such as the miracle of feeding the multitude (6:5-13) . The writer of John describes terms for the reader, such as the meaning of Rabbi (1:38), Messiah (1:41), Cephas (1:42), Siloam (8:7), The Pavement (19:13), and The Skull (19:17). The writer also draws on the writings of Moses and other prophets (ex: 1:45; 19:24), as mystics read each other an build on what a previous person has said. It is mystical that someone could be “born again” (3:3), because it’s physically impossible. John is the only gospel that speaks of Jesus’ hour not yet coming, having a mystical preoccupation with time not being the same as of this world. Shifting time and suspension of physical laws is also shown by Jesus walking on the water to the boat, and the boat immediately arriving on the far shore (6:19-21). The divine can break into the physical realm and heal an officer’s son (4:46-53) or even bring Lazarus back to life after having been dead (11:1-44) - both by Jesus just saying the word. Jesus uses images to describe himself such as door (10:9) and vine (10:9) which aren’t true in the physical realm, because they could see he’s a man. Jesus uses “figures of speech” (16:25) to explain the divine, because there are no words that can describe it. Things can’t be described, and if it could be told, “the world could not hold the books that would be written” (21:25). The book of John speaks about love, but as the divine choosing humans and the world not recognizing those chosen by divine love (15:9-21).
The Song of Songs also speaks of love, but it uses comparisons in the context of sex. I’ve read it before, but always got confused figuring out who was speaking. The Revised English Bible has the headings of bride, bridegroom, and companions. Being able to just read it through quickly, it goes quickly, boom, boom, boom, from one image to another. In attempting to describe the undescribable, things are used for comparison such as wine, oil, henna, doves, lily, apples, gazelle, smoke, goats, pomegranate - things we would never normally list together. The comparisons start out with “love is more fragrant,” as in “it’s like this, but not quite, because it’s more.” The whole book is like a mystical experience, because it’s over quickly, but the impact stays.
Cindy Lufkin
Sandy Robinson (CRCDS)
Distance Learning: “Topics in
Mysticism”
Prof. G.
Miller: January 2008
REFLECTION
1: Song of Songs/Gospel of John
I am not a “Bible girl”: I was not raised
in any particular religion, although my family’s background is Presbyterian. I
grew up with a taciturn father who espoused Scottish Presbyterian values, a
mother who explored Christian Science, and with friends and family of various
cultural and religious backgrounds. My only formal experience with the Bible
(by this, I mean the New Testament) was in a Sunday school class at the age of
5: I asked my teacher who wrote the Bible; her answer—“God”—made no sense to
me. How could an invisible being who spoke to all (yet made no sound), saw all
(yet had no eyes), and loved all (yet could not hug) pick up a pencil and write
a book? My five-year-old mind was suspicious.
I first opened a Bible with the intent to
read and begin understanding its contents a year and a half ago, at the age of
43, in my first class at seminary. That was an introductory class to the New
Testament; I was not impressed and felt no affinity for the material. I next
chose a class that introduced me to the Hebrew Scriptures. Whether the
professor’s grasp of and abiltiy to transmit the
material seemed more solid to me, or whether I felt a greater pull to the
historical period and the culture and trials of Jewish Israelites, I finally
found a way to appreciate the Bible (by this, I mean the Old Testament).
Flash forward to this class on topics in
mysticism. That the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament appeared as a tandem
selection for the first reading was surprising to me; that the Bible could be a
significant player on the mystic game field was attention-getting and
illuminating. My longtime practice and studies of yoga postures and philosophy
has given me a decent familiarity with Hindu and Buddhist texts and sacred
beliefs; consequently, I tend to think in terms of Asian religions when I think
of mysticism. That the source of a personal lifelong doubt (that is, the Bible)
could appear as an important contributor to the history of mysticism was both
humbling and intellectually exciting for me.
I admit that the Hebrew Bible still tends
to resonate with my sensibilities a bit more than the New Testament. The Jewish
interpretive stance that the Song of
Solomon (Song of Songs) represents a religious allegory about God’s love
for Israel appeals to my intellectual and social justice side, as well as to my
emotional and spiritual need for God to be present and loving in times of human
crisis (e.g., the Exodus from Egypt). I can see the argument for the Christian
interpretation of God’s love for the Church, but this metaphor does not
resonate with me. If both the Jewish and Christian interpretations (which seem
more like reformulations than interpretations closely related to the text) are
stripped away, and one reads the Song
as love poetry, the erotic sensuality and sexuality leap through the passionate
language of love. I feel a bit of a grin when I think that a sample of ancient
erotica made it into the Bible; perhaps there is something to the text, after
all!
The Gospel
of John leaves me less content, however. Quite simply, I have doubts about
the Christian view of Jesus as Messiah and Son of God (i.e., that God’s
divinity became earthly in the body of Christ). Although I can sense deep and
rampant symbolism in John, and a
sense of paradox that doesn’t seem as evident in other books of the Bible (the
New Testament, in particular), I feel that Christian translators and readers
still hold to the belief that God could be made flesh in Jesus. Despite my
affinity and acceptance of mystical and elusive concepts, the Christian belief
in Jesus as God’s Son seems too insistent. I had hoped that John might provide some relief from that
demanding tone, but ultimately it still seems to hold true.
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