Posts Tagged ‘Ontology’

Nasr’s Doctrine of Humankind’s “Fall”

Wednesday, November 18th, 2009

In my last planned and on-topic post, the “The Mutual ‘Inness’ of the Human and the Divine” of September 30th, I said that in the next planned and on-topic post I would have something to say about the “fall” and our having “become forgetful beings” that we had seen Nasr speaking about. As has been the case before, my promise was some 200% or more of what it should have been. In this post, then, I will deal only with the “fall,” and then not completely, letting the asserted fact of our having “become forgetful beings” wait until a later post.

Nasr brought up the “fall” and our resultant “forgetfulness” in the following passage (The Garden of Truth, pp. 5-6):

The answer to the question “who are we?” is related in a principial manner to our ultimate reality in God, a reality that we have now forgotten as a result of the fall from our original and primordial state and the subsequent decay in the human condition caused by the downward flow of time. We have become forgetful beings, no longer knowing who we are and therefore what our purpose is in this life. But our reality in God, who resides at the depths of our being, is still there. We need to awaken to this reality and to realize our true identity, that is, to know who we really are.

Taking up the cause, the “fall,” and for the time being leaving aside the effect, the “forgetfulness,” as a first observation, we need to note that Nasr’s “fall” is not to be identified with the “fall” of orthodox Christian doctrine. The latter, for one thing, is thought of as the result of the disobedience of the first humans, Adam and Eve. As Nasr notes later in The Garden of Truth (p. 54), however:

Islam does not believe in original sin, but it does emphasize our fall from our primordial state, that primordial nature we still bear deep within ourselves.

Rather, the “fall” of which Nasr speaks corresponds, in at least one central respect, to the creation of mainstream orthodox Christian and mainstream orthodox Muslim theology. That is, just as, in the latter understanding, it is with creation that we begin our incarnate or embodied existence, so, in Nasr’s, it is with the “fall” that we begin our incarnate or embodied existence. One point of difference, of course, is that, in the perspective of the mainstream orthodox theologies, we begin our existence tout court when we begin our incarnate or embodied existence. For Nasr’s Sufism, on the other hand, our existence tout court does not begin when we begin our incarnate or embodied existence; our existence tout court is without beginning.

Cutting a bit more deeply, according to the one view, we are created, ultimately, ex nihilo or out of nothing. But according to the other, we need to keep in mind, there is ultimately only one being, God (as was underlined in the June 28th post, “Nasr’s Gnosis and ‘Theomonism’”). Our fall, then, from our “primordial state,” in which state we were in fact identical with God and so existing, must therefore be a fall from a state of existing to one of not existing, ad nihilo.

Cutting a bit more deeply still, for the two mainstream orthodox theologies, creation and its result are good. But this is not so for Nasr’s gnosticism. In the continuation of the passage from The Garden of Truth (p. 54) quoted above, we find Nasr saying:

We are separated from this [primordial] nature by layers of forgetfulness and imperfection, by veils that can only be removed by God’s Help. And it is precisely these veils, or ontological separation from our Source, that result in what theologically is called evil. It is to these veils with which we usually associate ourselves that the Sufi saint of Basra, Rābi‘ah, was referring when she said, “Alas, my son, thine existence is a sin wherewith no other sin can be compared.”
Metaphysically one can explain the reality of evil as separation from the absolute Good.

Now, we can see that in Nasr’s ontology the thesis that there is but one existent entails the thesis that nothing other than the one is existent; in other words, not being identical with the one existent, God, is simply not being. We might well expect that, in his axiology, i.e., in his theory of value or of the good and bad, the parallel thesis that there is but one good would entail with the thesis that nothing other than the one good is good; in other words, not being identical with the one good, God, is simply not being good. Nasr actually goes further: his thesis is that everything other than the one good is, not merely not good, but evil.

As I have said at least once or twice before in the course of examining Nasr’s version of Sufism, questions abound, even if we grant him his extraordinary theomonist ontology. One that I think should be asked is that of by whose decision and agency we are changed from the primordial state to the fallen state, ours or God’s. It seems to me to be inexplicable in either case.

Another question that I think should be asked is that of to what good purpose or end we have become fallen. As the very term “fall” suggests, we are in are in a worse situation as fallen than we were beforehand. In this respect his “fall” contrasts rather unfavorably with the perspective of the mainstream orthodox theologies, for in being created we have at least gained existence.

We need to remember, of course, that the “fall” does not represent the end of the “journey” of which, in the June 30th post, “Where We Are Coming from and Where We Are Going to: 1,” we saw Nasr speak (The Garden of Truth, p. 6):

According to Sufi metaphysics, and in fact other metaphysical traditions in general, all that exists comes from that Reality which is at once Beyond-Being and Being, and ultimately all things return to that Source. In the language of Islamic thought, including both philosophy and Sufism, the first part of this journey of all beings from the Source is called the “arc of descent” and the second part back to the Source the “arc of ascent.” Within this vast cosmic wayfaring we find ourselves here and now on earth as human beings. Moreover, our life here in this world is a journey within that greater cosmic journey of all existents back to the Source of all existence.

This does not help. We are told that “ultimately all things return to that Source.” From this it follows that ultimately all humans return to that Source. After pausing to note that it really follows that all humans return to that Source, we surely have to ask what has been gained from this “journey” “through the “arc of descent,” “our life here in this world,” and the “arc of ascent”? We have simply returned to the starting point.

There must be more.

In future posts we will have occasion to delve more thoroughly into Nasr’s axiology of the good and the bad. A more fundamental inquiry will also need to be made into his monistic or theomonistic ontology. Most readers will have already taken note of the kinship that it has with that of the Parmenides and his rejection of the reality of change and multiplicity. I am beginning to gather my thoughts on the achievements, and the opposite, of that great philosophical pioneer.

***

If you wish, you can easily purchase The Garden of Truth through Amazon.com by clicking on:

The Garden of Truth: The Vision and Promise of Sufism, Islam’s Mystical Tradition

The Matter of My Ontology

Monday, June 22nd, 2009

The second of the three questions appearing in a good friend’s challenging comment on my June 7th post, conveyed to me in an email and reproduced in my June 14th post, was the following: “What is your apriori ontology that drives all this epistemology?” The latter reference, of course, is to the varying sets of epistemological presuppositions underlying the different versions of gnosticism that I defined in the June 7th post.

For the time being I’m going to waive specific discussion of the assumed “a priori” character of the ontology driving the epistemology. I do this first because the issue of the “a priori,” as opposed to the “a posteriori,” is one that is as complicated as it is important and so is deserving of a fuller treatment than I am at this stage prepared to give it. I do it, second, because the question he was asking, with the “a priori” removed, is still an appropriate and important question: “What is the ontology that drives all this epistemology?”

The subtitle of the blog, “An On-going Essay in Neo-Aristotelian Philosophy,” offers one clue as to the nature of the ontology driving my epistemology, for Aristotle famously articulated and defended a set of so-called “first principles,” including the Principle of Contradiction, which I would rather call the Principle of Non-Contradiction, and the Principle of Excluded Middle.

I prefer to set forth an expanded set of such principles, an informal statement of which follows:

The Principle of Non-Contradiction: No being whatsoever both is and is not, in any one respect and at any one time.

The Principle of Alternation: Any being whatsoever is or is not, in any one respect and at any one time.

The Principle of Excluded Middle: Any being whatsoever is or is not, but it does not both be and not be, in any one respect and at any one time.

The Principle of Implication: If any being whatsoever is then it is, in any one respect and at any one time.

The four principles are in fact logically equivalent to one another. However, another “first principle” of Aristotelian (and neo-Aristotelian) philosophy, though not traditionally identified as a first principle, is not logically equivalent to the four given. It may be called and, in a relatively loose formulation, it may be formulated:

The Principle of Ontological Realism: There exists a genuine multiplicity of changing things.

In a stricter formulation, all that we really need at this point in our deliberations, it may be given as:

The Principle of Ontological Realism: There is at least one being.

There is in fact more to the ontology that I bring with me to this blog even at the outset. I think I can, however, let the exposition of my ontology stop here for the time being, for I think I can now get to what I take to be the primary thrust of my friend’s question (I trust he’ll correct me if I’m wrong), that of whether I begin my reflections adhering to a thesis analogous to the Principle of Ontological Realism, i.e.:

The Thesis of Theological Realism: There is at least one divine being.

The answer to the question of whether I begin my reflections adhering to the Thesis of Theological Realism is: I do not. Neither, however, do I adhere to the opposed thesis, that there is no divine being. It is my hope, though, that at some time in the future I will be able to adhere to one or to the other, on a fully rational basis.

Announcing “Gnosis and Noesis”

Sunday, June 7th, 2009

I have decided to once again set hand to keyboard and renew the blog, “Islam and Intellect,” which some second thoughts and the press of life’s circumstances led me to suspend some time ago. Part of that renewal, however, is the assigning of a new name to the blog, “Gnosis and Noesis,” the new name reflecting a partial but significant change in focus. The focus of “Islam and Intellect” was on Islamic philosophy, theology, and mysticism and more specifically on the thought of the noted Iranian-American Muslim thinker Seyyed Hossein Nasr. While “Gnosis and Noesis” will in the relatively near future be focused on Nasr’s thought, over the long term a shift in focus will become evident, from one aiming at a critical understanding of Islamic philosophy, theology, and mysticism to one aiming at a critical understanding of philosophy, theology, and mysticism tout court.

The initial focus will be on the “gnosticism” of Nasr. To provide context, however, we’ll begin with some definitions that “gnosticism” can support. Setting aside the non-essential elements of the widely varying and often fantastical forms that gnosticism has assumed in the course of its history, we can distinguish three definitions of the term relevant both to the meaning, “knowledge,” of the Greek term “gnosis” and to the philosophical perspective motivating this blog. First, however, provision of a logically prior definition will be useful, that of epistemology: epistemology, from the Greek “episteme,” or “knowledge,” is the philosophical theory or science of knowledge, i.e., the discipline that investigates the existence, the nature, and the principles and properties of knowledge precisely as knowledge.

This definition in hand, “gnosticism,” in the broadest sense of the term, can designate the epistemological thesis that a genuine knowledge of the real is possible; “epistemism” would be an equally apt term for this thesis. Gnosticism in this sense stands opposed to skepticism, the epistemological thesis that a genuine knowledge of the real is not possible.

Before proceeding further, provision of another fundamental definition is called for, that of ontology: ontology, from the Greek “ontos,” or “being,” is the philosophical theory or science of being, i.e., the discipline that investigates the existence, the nature, and the principles and properties of being precisely as being. This latter definition in hand, we can note that the gnosticism defined above obviously presupposes the truth of the ontological thesis that there is at least one real being; if there were no real being, there would be no real being to be known.

More narrowly, “gnosticism” can designate the thesis that a genuine knowledge of the divine is possible. Gnosticism in this second sense of the word obviously presupposes the truth of gnosticism in the previous sense of the word and therefore also the truth of the presuppositions of that epistemological theory. It further and equally obviously presupposes the truth of the generically ontological and specifically theological thesis that there is a divine to be known; if there is, or were, no divine, there is, or would be, no divine to be known. This second gnosticism stands opposed to “agnosticism,” the thesis that a genuine knowledge of the divine is not possible.

More narrowly yet, “gnosticism” can designate the thesis that an immediate knowledge, i.e., a “vision,” of the divine is possible. This is in contrast with what a non-immediate knowledge, i.e., a mediated knowledge, of the divine would be. By rough analogy: seeing a person in the next room would be an immediate knowledge of that person; hearing the opening and closing of desk drawers on the other side of a closed door, and then inferring that there is someone there, would be a mediated knowledge of the person.

A mediated knowledge of the divine, if there is such, is then one in which the divine is known but only as an inferred cause, the cause which we infer that the existents which we do know immediately must have; the celebrated “Five Ways” with which Thomas Aquinas attempted to demonstrate the existence of God all represent attempts at such a mediated knowledge of the divine.

Gnosticism in this third sense of the word obviously presupposes the truth of gnosticism in both of the two previous senses of the word and therefore also the truth of their presuppositions. Gnosticism in this sense stands in opposition to the view, for which I know of no one-word designator, that an immediate knowledge of the divine is not possible.

It is gnosticism in the third sense of the term that is to be the object of our focus for the foreseeable future. The history of thought provides multiple illustrations of several competing theses related to gnosticism in this third sense . One view is evident in classical Catholic Christianity’s understanding of the “beatific vision,” the vision of God that, it is held, brings absolute happiness. As I understand it, it is the view of classical Catholic Christianity that an immediate knowledge of the divine is possible, not, however, in this life, but only in an after-life. This view clearly presupposes the truth of the thesis that there is an after-life, which thesis itself depends upon some controversial premises.

A glimpse of an at least near approximation to an alternative view of gnosticism can be seen in Plato’s “Allegory of the Cave” (Republic, Book VII, 514a-520a), with its understanding that the philosopher-king needs to and, presumably, can attain a vision of the ideal or perfect Good. On the assumption that the ideal or perfect Good is in fact the divine, this understanding holds that an immediate knowledge of the divine is possible, even in this life and not only in an after-life.

Bringing in the difference between naturalism and supernaturalism gives rise to other pertinent possibilities. One view, also evident in classical Catholic Christianity’s view of the “beatific vision,” holds that an immediate knowledge of the divine is possible, but only if humans are provided, through divine grace, with supernatural means of knowing. The opposed, naturalistic, understanding holds that an immediate knowledge of the divine is possible by human means alone; still holding to the assumptions at work in the immediately preceding paragraph, it seems that this was Plato’s understanding of the matter.

A truth-table can set forth all of the most pertinent logical possibilities. If we let “I” abbreviate “An immediate knowledge of the divine is possible,” “E” abbreviate “The immediate knowledge of the divine is possible in this (embodied) life,” “N” abbreviate “The immediate knowledge of the divine is possible through natural means,” and, of course, “T” abbreviate “True” and “F” abbreviate “False,” we have the following truth-table:

I E N
T T T
T T F
T F T
T F F
F T T
F T F
F F T
F F F

The first row (TTT) represents the thesis that an immediate knowledge of the divine is possible, in this life and by human means alone. The aim of engaging in a thorough philosophical exploration of this thesis, the thesis that I think Plato at least nearly arrived at, is a primary one with which I begin this blog.

The second row (TTF) represents the thesis that an immediate knowledge of the divine is possible, in this life, but not by human means alone; supernatural grace is needed in addition. This view, as we will see in the coming posts, is central to the Sufi gnosticism spelled out by Nasr in his The Garden of Truth: The Vision and Promise of Sufism, Islam’s Mystical Tradition (Reprint edition; New York: HarperOne, 2008 [2007]). Yet, as I think I can show, there are some things in Nasr’s gnosticism that could imply that humans are at least in principle capable of attaining the immediate knowledge of the divine by the purely human means available to philosophy.

The third row (TFT) represents the thesis that an immediate knowledge of the divine is possible, though not in this life, but by human means alone. I assume, though I don’t know, that there are those who adhere to this thesis, and were I to encounter someone who did, I would observe that it presupposes that there is a pertinent difference between the human person in this life and the human person in the presumed next or after-life, such that the latter, but not the former, is capable of an immediate knowledge of the divine. Conceding that there are dramatic differences between life in this life and a life in a next life, I would then ask what the pertinent difference is.

The fourth row (TFF) represents the thesis that an immediate knowledge of the divine is possible, but not in this life and not by human means alone. This, I understand, represents the view of Thomas Aquinas and much if not virtually all of classical theism, Muslim as well as Christian. The adherents to this view have to hold that there is a pertinent difference between the supernatural grace that they believe is bestowed upon at least some humans in this life and the supernatural grace that they believe is bestowed upon at least some humans in the presumed next or after-life, such that some in the latter, but none in the former, are capable of attaining an immediate knowledge of the divine. I ask both what that difference is and why that difference is.

As the Fs in the column under the “I” in the fifth through eighth rows tell us, the remaining logical possibilities all assume that an immediate knowledge of the divine is not possible. The fifth, sixth, and seventh possibilities are therefore, clearly, self-contradictory. The eighth is perfectly self-consistent and, for all I know at this point, may well be the one that is true.

In the coming weeks, months, and years I intend to engage in a sustained philosophical exploration of the options just sketched out and their many and varying presuppositions. I am doing so quite simply because I wish to know whether or not it is in principle possible for us to enjoy a beatific vision, whether in this life or in another. I am making this blog an important component of the exploration at hand because through it I hope to find others who are or who are willing to become similarly engaged.

I use the expression “philosophical exploration” quite deliberately. First, my efforts will be philosophical in nature; I do not have a religious perspective as my point of departure and this, as will become clear as things proceed, has some important implications. Again, my efforts will be genuinely exploratory in their nature in this at least: using the expression “sound argument” in the logician’s technical sense of “a valid argument of which the premises are all true (and so therefore also the conclusion), I at this point know of no sound argument demonstrating the truth of any of the above gnostic theses and I know of no sound argument demonstrating their falsehood. I moreover know of no sound argument demonstrating that there can be no such sound arguments. Nothing, as I see it, has been definitively settled and I wish to do whatever I can to settle, perhaps even definitively settle, at least some things.

I will begin the blog’s deliberations with a slow and reflective reading of Seyyed Hossein Nasr’s The Garden of Truth: The Vision and Promise of Sufism, Islam’s Mystical Tradition, more or less systematically working my way through the book. I say, “more or less systematically,” for two reasons. First, I will reflect and comment on only the book’s most salient passages. Second, I anticipate often finding it necessary to follow some thread of presupposition or implication beyond the boundaries of that one work to other works.

In my next scheduled on-topic post (there may well be an occasional unscheduled or off-topic post) I will spell out some reasons why I begin with Nasr and his The Garden of Truth.

*****

If you wish, you an easily purchase The Garden of Truth through Amazon.com by clicking on:

The Garden of Truth: The Vision and Promise of Sufism, Islam’s Mystical Tradition