One Day, Death Will Die

Mocking, John Donne provokes Deathi. He wants to humiliate, crush, annihilate her. He absolutely reverses the roles. He’s the one who’s holding the scythe now. In a few precise sentences, he reaps death and war, poison and disease. Death is nothing more than a slave subject to fate and chance, power and despair; she is chained, and there are far better sleepers than her, opiates or dreamers.

At the moment when death, the « poor death », believes it has conquered, only a short sleep separates us from eternity. Metaphysical pirouette. Great leap of the angel to the nose of nothingness.

The last line of the Sonnet reads « And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.”

This line reminds us of Paul’s formula: « O Death, where is thy victory? »ii.

Paul’s formula itself evokes that of the prophet Hosea when he pronounced curses against Ephraim and the idolaters of Judah: « And I will deliver them from the power of Sheol? And I will deliver them from death? O death, where is your pestilence? Sheol, where is your destruction? »iii

There is, however, an important nuance between Paul and Hosea. Hosea called Death and the power of Sheol over guilty men. Paul announces the annihilation of Death itself.

In this Paul does not innovate. He refers to Isaiah, when Isaiah said: « Yahweh has put an end to death forever. »iv

Isaiah, Hosea, Paul, Donne, through the centuries, share the same idea. One day, Death will die one day. No doubt, death will die.

Who better than a prophet, an apostle, a poet, can take a firm stand on this ultimate issue?


Death be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadfull ; for, thou art not soe,

For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,

Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.

From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,

Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee doe go,

Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.

Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poyson, warre, and sickness dwell,

And poppie, or charmes can make us sleep as well,

And better then thy stroake ; why swell’st thou then ?

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,

And death shall be no more ; death, thou shalt die.

John Donne, Holy Sonnets, X

ii 1 Cor. 15.55

iii Hos. 13,14

iv Is. 25,8

The Pope – a Chinese Woman

In his latest book, L’Avenir de Dieu (‘God’s Future’), Jean Delumeau writes that the aggiornamento of the Church will not really be realized until the day the pope is a Chinese woman, married to a black man.

The idea may seem pungent. One day perhaps, Delumeau’s prediction will come true. The Church will then have shown visible signs of its potential universality. But why stop there?

To achieve universality, it would be probably more effective to unite all the world faiths, to synthesize their dogmas, to resolve their millennial schisms, to dissolve the reasons of their incompatibilities, to exclude their exclusions, and for each one of them to recognize their own flaws and errors. More than anything else, it will be necessary for them to prove that universal religions are in a capacity to bring effective peace to the world, to guarantee justice, to put a veil of goodness and benevolence over humankind.

Without goodness, justice and equity, religion is nothing but farce, hypocrisy, talk of clouds.

A « Chinese woman » who became pope would embody a great symbolic leap, no doubt, but the road is long. We will have to walk longer than the time of one leap.

The Elsewhere God


There are some things it is better to keep quiet about. Whatever we may say, we risk approximation, error, provocation, offense, – or even, more bitingly, the silent smile of the wise men, if there are any.

The psalmist says, addressing Elohim:

לְךָ דֻמִיָּה תְהִלָּה lekha doumiâ tehilâ. » For you, silence is praise »i.

In order to think, it is better to remain silent: « Think in your heart, on your bed make silence.»ii

Silence must be kept, but one can still write. About the highest mysteries, writing is in the same time compass and bearing, mast and mainsail. A wind of inspiration will then come, maybe.

Maimonides himself did not hesitate to face, in writing, the ocean of mysteries. In writing, he even tried to define the essence of true wisdom, and thus that of God.

« The word ‘Hokhma in the Hebrew language has four meanings »iii, he wrote. ‘Hokhma refers to the understanding of philosophical truths that have as their goal the perception of God. It can also be said of the possession of any art or industry. It applies to the acquisition of moral virtues. Finally, it is applied in the sense of finesse and cunning.

Vast spectrum of possible meanings, then. Or structural ambiguity?

« It may be that the word ‘Hokhma in the Hebrew language has (originally) the meaning of ‘finesse’ and ‘application of thought’, so that this finesse or sagacity will have as its object sometimes the acquisition of intellectual qualities, sometimes that of moral qualities, sometimes that of a practical art, sometimes malice and wickedness.”iv

Who can be said to be « wise » then?

« He who is instructed in the whole Law, and who knows its true meaning, is called ‘hakham in two respects, because it embraces both intellectual and moral qualities.”

Maimonides then quotes on Aristotlev and the ancient philosophers to define « four species of perfections ».

The first kind of ‘perfection’ is particularly prized by most men but is really of little value. It is material possession. Mountains of gold and silver are to be possessed, they offer only a passing enjoyment, and at the bottom of the imagination.

The second is the perfection of the body, the physical constitution, beauty, health. This is certainly not nothing, but has little impact on the health of the soul itself.

The third kind of perfection consists in moral qualities. This is a definite advantage from the point of view of the essence of the soul. But moral qualities are not an end in themselves. They serve only as a preparation for some other, higher purpose.

The fourth sort of perfection is true human perfection. It consists in being able to conceive ideas about the great metaphysical questions. This is the true end of man. « It is through it that he obtains immortality, »vi Maimonides said.

Jeremiah had also expressed himself on this subject, in his own style: « Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, nor the strong man glory in his strength, nor the rich man glory in his riches; but whoever wishes to glory, let him find glory in this: to have understanding and to know me, for I am YHVH.”vii

Wisdom is knowledge, – the knowledge of the Lord.

But how to get to know that specific knowledge?

Jeremiah has an answer:

« I am YHVH, who exercises goodness, justice and righteousness in the earth. Yes, this is what I delight in, says YHVH!” viii 

This means that the essence of God is known by His actions, which should be taken as a model. There are three fundamental ones: חֶסֶד , hesed (goodness), מִשְׁפָּט , michpat (law), and ָּצְדָקָה , tsedaka (justice).

Maimonides comments: « He [Jeremiah] then adds another essential idea, saying – ‘on earth’ –, and this idea is the pillar of religion”ix.

Since this idea comes at the very end of the Guide for the Perplexed, it can probably be thought to be its final conclusion.

That simple, conclusive, remark leaves open an immense field of new research. What would be the essence of God, not just on earth, but elsewhere?

And would the answer to that question, if we knew it, be possibly the pillar of another kind of religion?

i Ps. 65,2

ii Ps. 4,5

iiiMaïmonides. Guide of the Perplexed. III. §54, pp.629. Ed. Verdier. 1979.

ivIbid. p.630

vL’Éthique à Nicomaque. 1,8 et sq.

viMaïmonides. Guide of the Perplexed. III. §54, pp.633. Ed. Verdier. 1979.

vii Jer. 9, 22-23

viiiJér. 9,23

ixMaïmonide.Le Guide des égarés. 3ème partie. §54, pp.635. Ed. Verdier. 1979

A Very Lousy Bargain With God

The prophet Isaiah was sawed in half with a wood saw by order of Manasseh, king of Judah. It was Belkira, also a prophet in Jerusalem, who had accused him.

What was the accusation? Isaiah had called Jerusalem « Sodom, » and had foretold that it would be devastated along with the other cities of Judah.

He also prophesied that the sons of Judah and Benjamin would go into captivity, and that king Manasseh would be put in a cage with iron chains.

Belkira claimed that Isaiah hated Israel and Judah.

But the most serious accusation was that Isaiah had dared to say: « I see further than the prophet Moses ».

Moses had said: « No man shall see the LORD and live. »

Isaiah had contradicted him: « I have seen the LORD, and behold, I am alive. »

Isaiah had told his vision in detail to Hezekiah, king of Judah and father of Manasseh, and to several prophets, including Micah.

Let’s summarize it here. An angel took Isaiah up to the firmament and then to the first six heavens. Finally he reached the seventh heaven. There he saw « someone standing, whose glory was greater than all else, a great and marvelous glory ». The angel said to him: « This is the Lord of all the glory that you have seen ». Isaiah also saw another glorious being, similar to the first. He asked, « Who is this one? ». The angel answered, “Worship him, for this is the angel of the Holy Spirit, who has spoken in you and in the other righteous ones.”

That was just foreplay.

Isaiah continued.

“And my Lord, with the angel of the Spirit, came to me, and said: ‘Behold, thou hast been given to see the LORD; and for thy sake this power is given to the angel that is with thee.’ And I saw that my Lord worshipped, and the angel of the Spirit, and they both glorified the LORD together.”i

Isaiah also claimed to have seen the LORD, Yahweh-God, in the year of the death of King Uzziah (~740). « I saw the LORD sitting on a great and high throne (…) ». And he cried out in anguish: « Woe is me, I am lost! For I am a man of unclean lips, I dwell among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of Hosts.”ii

The price to pay for this vision was relatively small. A seraphim flew to Isaiah, and touched his mouth with an ember caught with pliers.

It was only later that he finally had to pay with his life for this vision of God: his body was sawed in half.

When Isaiah saw God, the Lord said to him, « Go and tell this people, ‘Listen, listen, and do not understand; look, look, and do not discern’. Make the heart of this people heavy, make their ears hard, swallow up their eyes. »iii

Two lessons can be drawn from these texts.

Firstly, Isaiah sees God face to face in all his glory, but does not die, contrary to what Moses said.

Secondly, though all this divine glory is clearly revealed to Isaiah, it only entrusted him with a rather disappointing and illogical message to deliver on his return to earth.

God sends Isaiah back to his people with a warning that is inaudible, incomprehensible, and above all paradoxical, contradictory. He must tell the people to ‘listen’ to him, but at the same time make them hard of hearing, and incapable to understand.

He must tell them to ‘look’ and  and make their eyes glaze over.

Isaiah did not call into question the rather lousy mission he had been given.

Why so much glory given to Isaiah, and at the same time so much severity for the people?

As a matter of strong contrast, let us recall what happened to Ezra.

Ezra also had a vision.

The angels Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and Uriel placed him on a « cloud of flames » and took him to the seventh heaven. But when he got there, unlike Isaiah, Ezra saw only « the back of the Lord, » noting, « I have not deserved to see anything else. »

In front of the Lord’s back, Ezra tried to intervene on behalf of men. He told him without delay and spontaneously: « Lord, spare sinners!”

Then began a rather long quarrel between God and Ezra.

Ezra said, « How righteous are you, how almighty are you, how merciful are you, and how worthy are you? « 

He also asked what will happen on Judgment day.

The Lord answered, « The Moon will become blood on the last day, and the sun will flow in its blood. »

This prompted Ezra to reply, « In what has heaven sinned? « 

The Lord replied, « This heaven looks down upon the wickedness of mankind. »

Ezra wanted to plead the cause of men once again.

He attacked on a sensitive point, the election.

Ezra: « By the life of the Lord! I am going to plead for good against you because of all the men who have no place among the chosen ones! »

The Lord: « But you will be chosen with my prophets! »

Ezra: « Sinners, who shaped them? »

The Lord: « It’s me. »

Ezra: “If I too, like sinners, was created by you, then it is better to lose myself than the whole world!»iv

Here is a great prophet, Isaiah, who had the great privilege, denied even to Moses, of seeing the glory of God without dying, and who returns to earth with the mission to weigh down the hearts of his people, to make them deaf and blind.

And here is another prophet, Ezra, who could only see the « back of the Lord », but who did not hesitate to plead the cause of men on several occasions, and who said he was ready to renounce his election and to lose himself in exchange for the salvation of the world.

How should this be interpreted?

The Lord agreed to do men a favor, and said to Ezra: « Let sinners rest from their labors from the ninth hour of the Sabbath eve until the second day of the week; but on the other days let them be punished in return for their sins. »

From Friday afternoon until Monday midnight, three and a half days of grace.

One half of the week filled with grace. Half of the time then.

A good result for a prophet admitted to see only the « back of God ».

Think what Isaiah might have gotten if he had only tried to bargain with God.

Maybe, being captivated by his vision of God’s glory did not prepare him to engage God into a serious bargaining….

i The Ascension of Isaiah, 9, 27-40

ii Is. 6, 1-5

iii Is. 6,9-10

ivVision of Esdras, 87-89a

Just Hit the Road לֶך 


There are many ideas running around, nowadays.

There is the idea that there are no more ideas, no more « great narratives« .

There is the idea that everything is rigged, that a conspiracy has been hatched by a few people against all.

There is the idea that progress is doomed.

There is the idea that the coming catastrophe is just ‘fake news’, or just part of an ideology.

There is the idea that anything can happen, and there is the idea that there is no hope, that the void is opening up, just ahead.

Every age harbours the new prophets that it deserves. Günther Anders has famously proclaimed the « obsolescence of man », – and that the absence of a future has already begun.

We must go way beyond that sort of ideas and that sort of prophecies.

Where to find the spirit, the courage, the vision, the inspiration?

Immense the total treasure of values, ideas, beliefs, faiths, symbols, paradigms, this ocean bequeathed by humanity to the generations of the day.

The oldest religions, the philosophies of the past, are not museums, fragmented dreams, now lost. Within them lies the memory of a common world, a dream of the future.

The Divine is in that which was born; the Divine is in that which is born; the Divine is in that which will be born.

A few chosen words from beyond the ages, and the spirit may be set ablaze. The soul may be filled with fulgurations, with assailing prescience.

Power is in the air, in the mother, the father, the son, the daughter.

It is in the Gods, and in all men. In all that is born, in all that will be born.

One thousand years before Moses’ times, the poets of the Rig Veda claimed:

The God who does not grow old stands in the bush. Driven by the wind, He clings to the bushes with tongues of fire, with a thunder.”i

Sounds familiar?

Was then Moses in his own way a Vedic seer? Probably.

The greatest minds always meet at the very top. And when they do, the greatest of the greatest do come down from up there, they do go back down, among us, to continue to go further on.

Go for yourself (לֶךְלְךָ lekh lekha), out of your country, out of your birthplace and your father’s house, to the land I will show you. I will make you a great nation. I will bless you, I will make your name glorious, and you will be blessed. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who reproach you, and through you will be blessed all the families of the earth.”ii

Rashi commented this famous text. When you’re always on the road, from one camp to another, you run three risks: you have fewer children, you have less money, you have less fame. That’s why Abram received three blessings: the promise of children, confidence in prosperity, and the assurance of fame.

The figure of Abram leaving Haran is a metaphor for what lies ahead. It is also a prophecy. We too must leave Haran.

The word haran originally means « the hollow ».

We too are in « the hollow », that is, a void of ideas, a lack of hope.

It is time, like Abram once did, to get out of this hollow, to hit the road, to seek new paths for new generations, yet to come.

The word haran can be interpreted in different ways. Philo wrote that haran means « the cavities of the soul and the sensations of the body ». It is these « cavities » that one must leave. “Adopt an alien mentality with regard to these realities, let none of them imprison you, stand above all. Look after yourself.”iii

Philo adds: « But also leave the expired word, what we have called the dwelling of the father, so as not to be seduced by the beauties of words and terms, and find yourself finally separated from the authentic beauty that lies in the things that the words meant. (…) He who tends toward being rather than appearing will have to cling to these realities, and leave the dwelling of words.”iv

Abram-Abraham has left Haran. On the way, he separated from his traveling companion, Lot: « Separate yourself from me!  » he said to himv.

Philo comments: « You must emigrate, in search of your father’s land, that of the sacred Logos, who is also in a sense the father of the ascetics; this land is Wisdom.”vi

Philo, an Alexandrian Jew, wrote in Greek. He used the word Logos as an equivalent for “Wisdom”, – and he notes: « The Logos stands the highest, close besides God, and is called Samuel (‘who hears God’). »

Migration’ is indeed a very old human metaphor, with deep philosophical and mystical undertones.

One may still have to dig up one or two things about it.

Go, for yourself (לֶךְלְךָ lekh lekha)”. Leave the ‘hollow’. Stand above all, that is. Look after the Logos.

The Logos. Or the ‘Word’, as they say.

A ‘migrant’ is always in quest of good metaphors for a world yet to come. Always in quest of true metaphors yet to be spoken.

Metaphor’. A Greek word, meaning: “displacement”.

Hence the stinging and deep irony of Philo’s metaphor:

Leave the dwelling of words.”

Leave the words. Leave the metaphors. Just leave.

Just hit the road, Man.

Lekh לֶךְ

i R.V. I.58.2-4

iiGen. 12, 1-3

iiiPhilo. De Migratione Abrahami. 14,7

iv Ibid. 14,12

v Gen. 13,9

vi Ibid. 14,12

A post-modern poem.


Dive into the abyss of the past.

Resonances to come, brief echoes of long times yet to go.

Receiving the beam of darkness that comes from a time ahead.

With the body, and the mind, bathing to the naked, dark photons.

To swallow raw bosons from all sides.

Darkness, no, run away from it. Search for its antonyms.

Lone shards, fledgling glimmers, glittering fragments, beaming debris.

Dead clarities. Evanescent nitescences.

Of all the suns still dead, make fire.

And live, in an eruptive hearth, in a sparkling dwarf, sweet omega.

The sudden rapture of Enoch


It was very brutal, very sudden. « Enoch walked with God, and then he was no more, for God took him away. »i A real trick. The construction of the sentence is straightforward, without nuance. If we translate word for word: « Enoch walked with God (in the text: ‘to the Gods’: et-ha-Elohim,  אֶתהָאֱלֹהִים ), then, ‘nothing more of him, vé-éïnénou, וְאֵינֶנּוּ ‘, because God (Elohim) took him away (or: seized him), ki-laqa oto Elohim  כִּילָקַח אֹתוֹ אֱלֹהִים

The expression used to render the key moment of Enoch’s disappearance (‘nothing more of him’ – éïnénou) evokes a kind of nothingness, an ‘absence’ instantaneously substituting for the ‘presence’ of Enoch, for his walking in ‘presence of God’, during three centuries.

Rachi comments as follows: « Enoch was a righteous man, but weak in conscience and easy to turn to evil. So God hastened to take him out of this world before his time. That is why the text expresses itself differently when it speaks of his death, and says: AND HE WAS NO LONGER in this world to complete his years. »

Therefore, Rashi does not believe that Enoch was taken up to Heaven in the manner of Elijah, like in a ‘rapture’. According to Rashi it is only a metaphor, a vigorous one admittedly, but which only translates the death of a « just », who was also a little « weak ».

I find that Rashi’s commentary falls rather short of the text.

Why demean Enoch by calling him a « weak man and easy to incite to evil »? Enoch is a « just » man. This is no small thing. Moreover, « he walks with God ». This is not a sign of weakness. Secondly, why does Rashi say that God « hastened to take him out of this world before his time, » when Enoch had already been walking with God ( וַיִּתְהַלֵּךְ חֲנוֹךְ, אֶתהָאֱלֹהִים ) for three hundred yearsii?

If we add the years that Enoch lived before giving birth to Methuselah, Enoch lived a total of three hundred and sixty five yearsiiiThat is a long time before God decided to “hasten”...

A thousand years before Rashi, Philo of Alexandria had proposed a completely different interpretation. « Enoch was pleasing to God, and ‘they could not find him’ (Gen. 5:24). Where would one have looked to find this Good? What seas would one have crossed? On what islands, on what continents? Among the Barbarians, or among the Greeks? Aren’t there not even today initiates in the mysteries of philosophy who say that wisdom is without existence, since the wise man does not exist either? So it is said that ‘he could not be found’, that way of being which was pleasing to God, in the sense that while it exists well, it is hidden from view, and that it is hidden from us where it is, since it is also said that God took it away ».iv

Philo goes from the figure of Enoch to that of Good. Where to find the Good? Where to find Wisdom? Just because we can’t find them, doesn’t mean they’ve suddenly disappeared, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Philo sees in the text an incitement to take flight towards high ideas. Probably an influence of Pythagoras and Plato. A form of encounter, the spirit of Israel and that of Greece.

After Philo and Rashi, what can we still see in this passage of Genesis?

The name Enoch (חֲנוֹךְ ) gives a clue. It means « the initiate », « the one who is dedicated ». The word anukah has the same root. Long before it meant the feast of the same name, which commemorates the victories of the Maccabees, this word had the generic meaning of « inauguration », of « dedication »: the dedication of the altar (Num. 7:11) or the inauguration of the temple (Ps. 30:1).

Enoch was a living « dedication ». He had « dedicated » himself to God. He was a “walking” sacrifice (like Isaac, walking to the place of his sacrifice).

Enoch had given his own life as a sacrifice. God was pleased with him, and God walked « with him ». Then, one day, suddenly, God took him away.

Why that day, precisely, and not before or after?

I think that Enoch was taken away on the day he was 365 years old. He had spent 65 years until he became the father of Methuselah, and 300 more years of walking in the presence of God. A life of 365 years, that is, a year of years.v

A « year of years » is a good metaphor to signify the perfection of time accomplished, the sum of the life of a righteous man.

But why was Enoch ‘suddenly’ no longer seen?

When God takes hold of a soul, it is not done in a picosecond or a femtosecond or even as one might say, ‘immediately’.

It is done in a time without time, infinitely short in the beginning, and infinitely long, immediately afterwards.

i Gen. 5, 24

ii Gen. 5,22

iiiGen. 5, 21-23

iv Mutatione Nominum, 34-38

vGen. 5, 21-23

Circumcised Ears

Rationalist, materialist minds generally consider the sacred texts of Egypt, China, India, Mesopotamia, Persia, Israel, Chaldea, as esoteric reveries, compiled by counterfeiters to mislead the common public.

For them, treasures such as the Book of the Dead, the texts of the Pyramids, the Vedas, the Upanishads, the Zend Avesta, the Tao Te King, the Torah, the Gospels, the Apocalypse, are only vast mystifications, settling down over the centuries, across the continents.

They are the expression of tribal or clan practices, or a desire for temporal and spiritual power. The social illusion they encourage would be fostered by the staging of artificially composed « secrets » that leave a lasting impression on the minds of peoples, generation after generation.

But broader, more open minds, may see all these ancient testimonies, so diverse, but tainted by the same central intuition, as a whole, – coming from the human soul, and not as a collection of heterogeneous attempts, all of them unsuccessful.

History has recorded the failure of some of them, after a few millennia of local supremacy, and the apparent success of some others, for a time more sustainable, seemingly better placed in the universal march.

With a little hindsight and detachment, the total sum of these testimonies seems to be nestled in a common drive, a dark energy, a specific genius.

This drive, this energy, this genius, are not very easy to distinguish today, in a sceptical environment, where miracles are rare, crowds cold, passions exacerbated.

Not easy but not impossible.

One can always walk between the flowers of human thought, smelling their unique scent, sensitive to the continuous rise of sap in their flexible stems.

The word « esotericism » has become malignant. Whoever is interested is considered a marginal in rational society.

But this word also has several divergent, and even contradictory, meanings that may enlighten us, for that matter.

For example, the Jewish Kabbalah is intended to be a revelation or explanation of the « esoteric » meaning of Moses’ Books. It is even doubly esoteric.

It is esoteric in a first sense in so far as it opposes exotericism. In this sense, esotericism is a search for protection. There are ideas, secrets, that must not be disclosed to the crowd.

It would deeply distort its meaning, or project mud, contempt, lazzis, spit, hatred against them.

It is also esoteric in that it deepens the secret. The text is said to contain profound meanings, which only initiation, prepared under strict conditions, can reveal to hand-picked entrants after long trials. Esotericism is not there prudence or protection, but a conscious, characterized method, elite aspiration.

There is yet another form of esotericism.

R.A. Schwaller de Lubicz defines it as follows: « Esoteric teaching is therefore only an « Evocation » and can only be that. Initiation does not reside in the text, whatever it may be, but in the culture of the Intelligence of the Heart. Then nothing is more « occult » or « secret », because the intention of the « Enlightened », the « Prophets » and the « Envoys from Heaven » is never to hide, on the contrary. »i


In this sense, esotericism has nothing in common with a desire for secrecy. On the contrary, it is a question of revealing and publishing what several minds can, through a common, sincere effort, discover about the nature of the Spirit.

The Spirit is discovered through the Spirit. It seems to be a flat tautology. But no. Matter is incapable of understanding the mind. The mind is probably better equipped, however, to understand matter. And if matter can merge with itself, only the spirit can take the measure of the infinite depth and understand the height of the Spirit without merging with it, undoubtedly relying on analogies with what it knows about itself.

Mind is, at the very least, a metaphor of Spirit, while matter is never a metaphor of Matter. The material, at most, is only an image, invisible to itself, drowned in the shadows, in its own immanence.

Jewish Kabbalah developed in the European Middle Ages, assuming obvious filiation links with the former Egyptian « Kabbalah », which also has links with the Brahmanic « Kabbalah ». I hasten to concede that the nature of the Jewish mission reflects its specificity in the Jewish Kabbalah. Nevertheless, the links of filiation with older “Kabbalahs” appear to be valuable subjects of reflection for the comparativist.


The various « Kabbalahs » of the world, developed in different climates, at times unrelated to each other, are esoteric according to the three meanings proposed above. The most interesting of these meanings is the last. It expresses in action the sincere Intelligence, the Intelligence of the heart, the intuition of the causes, the over-consciousness, the metamorphosis, the ex-stasis, the radial vision of the mythical nucleus, the intelligence of the beginnings and the perception of the ends.

Other metaphors are needed to express what needs to be expressed here.


Pharaonic Egypt is no more. But the Book of the Dead still speaks to a few living people. The end of ancient Egypt was only the end of a cycle, not the end of a world.

Osiris and Isis were taken out of their graves and put into museum display cases.

But Osiris, Isis, their son Horus, still produce strange scents, subtle emanations, for the poet, the traveller and the metaphysician.

There are always dreamers in the world to think of the birth of a Child God, a Child of the Spirit. The Spirit never ceases to be born. The fall of the Word into matter is a transparent metaphor.


Where does the thought that assails and fertilizes us come from? From a neural imbroglio? From a synaptic chaos?

The deep rotation of the worlds is not finished, other Egypts will still give birth, new Jerusalems too. In the future other countries and cities will appear, made not of land and streets, but of spirit.

The Spirit has not said his last word, for the Word is endless.

In the meantime, it is better to open one’s ears, and to have them circumcised, as once was said.


iR. Schwaller de Lubicz. Propos sur ésotérisme et symbole. Ed. Poche. 1990

N. , Death and the West

N. is no one in particular. N. is everyone. He/she is the peasant of the Nile, the builder of pyramids, the daughter of Pharaoh, the soldier of his army. Or Pharaoh himself.

Everyone must go through this: the door of death.

N. just died. He/she is placed in the presence of God. He/she speaks and addresses Him.

« Tribute to you who has come, God Atum, creator of the gods. Tribute to you, King of the Gods, who makes your ‘tuau’ shine with your beauty.

Tribute to you who come in your splendors, around your disc. »

At the same time, the prayer of the officiants accompanying the ceremony rises:

« O Sun, Lord of light, emerged from the East, shines on the face of the deceased N.!

May the soul of the deceased N. be at your side in your boat as you cross Heaven (…)

Your perfume is not known. And incomparable is your splendor. »i

The « Great Egyptian Papyrus » of the Vatican Library gives an idea of how the dead are introduced before God, to plead their cause and be admitted to divine transformation.

The funeral ritual of the ancient Egyptians was highly sophisticated. Traces of the prayers accompanying each phase of the « manifestation to day », and of the « luminous transformation of the soul » have been kept.

Emmanuel de Rougé translated in 1864 an Egyptian Funeral Ritual that includes more than a hundred chapters. Each one corresponds to a prayer adapted to a particular action in favour of the soul of the deceased. Together they form a subtle gradation, reflecting the stages of the soul’s journey into death:

« Take the form of the divine sparrowhawk » (Ch. 78), « Take the form of God » (Ch. 80), « Open the place where Thoth is and become a luminous spirit in Ker-Neter » (Ch. 96), « Sit among the great gods » (Ch. 104), « Receiving happiness in the dwelling of Ptah » (Ch. 106), « Advancing into the manifestation of the gate of the gods of the West, among the servants of Ra, knowing the spirits of the West » (Ch. 107), « Knowing the spirits of the East » (Ch. 109).

Ker-Neter is the Sheol, Atum or Tem is the Sun of the Night, Ra is the Sun of the Day.

Egyptology, an evolutionary science, has proposed guiding ideas for finding one’s way in this ancient world:

1) Every soul is admitted before the supreme God, and can plead his/her cause.

2) The deceased N. is called to be admitted to « cross Heaven » in the company of the God Atum himself.

3) The deceased N. can undertake a long spiritual journey involving more than a hundred distinct and successive stages.

4) Achieving the « happiness of Ptah’s dwelling place » is only one of these many steps, and it is not the highest. The final stages include the knowledge of the spirits of the West, then the knowledge of the spirits of the East.

In essence, the religion of ancient Egypt is generous, open to all. It promises after death a great journey of the soul, described with great detail in advance, for the benefit of the living.

In contrast, subsequent religions, which appeared more than two or three thousand years later, such as Judaism, Christianity and Islam, have really little to say about what awaits the soul after death.

In contrast, and in the face of this void, poets from different periods, such as Homer, Virgil or Dante, wanted to fill the latent demand.

Today, « modernity » has no use for these old aspirations, these pictorial descriptions. Death is no longer a dream.

But fifty-five centuries ago, the future dead dreamed of « knowing the spirits of the West and the East ».

i Il grande papiro egizio della Biblioteca Vaticana, édité par Orazio Marucchi, Rome 1888

The Hidden God

In Judaism, the idea that God is ‘hidden’ is deeply embedded. God transcends all conception. The Holy of Holies is empty.

The prophets repeat:

« Truly You are a God who hides Himself, O God of Israel, the Savior. » (Is. 45,15)

« Why do You hide Your Face?  » (Ps. 44,24)

But in reality, this notion of a ‘hidden God’ was not specific to Judaism. The ancient Egyptian civilization had had, long before Judaism, a similar conception of a ‘hidden’ Supreme God.

Ra hides Himself in His own appearance. The solar disk is not the God Ra, and it does not even represent the God. The solar disk is only the mysterious veil that hides the God.

This is also true of the other Gods of the Egyptian pantheon, who are in reality only multiple appearances of the one God. « The outer forms which the Egyptians gave to the divinity were only conventional veils, behind which were hidden the splendors of the one God. « , analyses F. Chabas, in his presentation of the Harris Magical Papyrus (1860).

In the language of hieroglyphics, the word « hidden » (occultatus) is rendered by the term ammon . This word derives from amen, « to hide ». In the Harris Papyrus an address to the God Ammon-Râ sums up the mystery: « You are hidden in the great Ammon ».

Ra is ‘hidden’ in Ammon (the ‘hidden’), he is ‘hidden’ in the mystery of his (shining) appearance.

Ra is not the sun, nor is he the Sun-God, as it has been often misinterpreted. The solar disk is only a symbol, a sign. The God hides behind it, behind this abstraction, this pure « disc ».

By reading the prayer of adoration of Ammon-fa-Harmachis (Harris Papyrus IV 1-5), one grows convinced of the abstract, grandiose and transcendent conception that Egyptians had of the God Ammon-Râ.

This elevated conception is very far from the supposed ‘idolatry’ that was later attached to their ancient faith. The Papyrus Harris gives a vivid description of the essence of the Ancient Egyptian faith, flourishing in Upper Egypt, more than two millennia before Abraham’s departure from the city of Ur in Chaldea.

Here are the invocations of a prayer of adoration:

« Hail to you, the One who has been formed.

Vast is His width, it has no limits.

Divine leader with the ability to give birth to Himself.

Uraeus! Great flaming ones!

Supreme virtuous, mysterious of forms.

Mysterious soul, which has made His terrible power.

King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Ammon Ra, Healthy and strong life, created by Himself.

Double horizon, Oriental Hawk, brilliant, illuminating, radiant.

Spirit, more spirit than the gods.

You are hidden in the great Ammon.

You roll around in your transformations into a solar disk.

God Tot-nen, larger than the gods, rejuvenated old man, traveler of the centuries.

Ammon – permanent in all things.

This God began the worlds with His plans. »

The name Uraeus, which is found in this text as an epithet of the God Ra, is a Latinized transposition of the Egyptian original Aarar, which designates the sacred aspic, the royal serpent Uraeus, and whose second meaning is « flames ».

These invocations testify to a very high conception of the divine mystery, more than two thousand years before Abraham. It is important to stress this point, because it leads us to the conclusion that the mysterious, hidden, secret, God is a kind of ‘universal’ paradigm.

Since the depths of time, men of all origins have spent millennia meditating on the mystery, confronting the hidden permanence of the secret divinity, inventing metaphors to evoke an unspeakable, ineffable God.

These initial intuitions, these primeval faiths, may have prepared the later efflorescence of the so-called « monotheism », in its strict sense.

But it is worth trying to go back, ever further, to the origins. The prayers of ancient times, where did they come from? Who designed them? Who was the first to cry:

« Ammon hiding in His place!

Soul that shines in His eye, His holy transformations are not known.

Brilliant are His shapes. His radiance is a veil of light.

Mystery of mysteries! His mystery is not known.

Hail to You, in Goddess Nout!

You really gave birth to the gods.

The breaths of truth are in Your mysterious sanctuary.»

What strikes in these short prayers is their « biblical » simplicity. Humble, simple words to confront with high and deep mysteries…

Premonitions, images, burst forth. The « brightness » of God is only « a veil of light ». This image, of course, leads us to evoke other mystic visions, that of the burning bush by Moses, for example, or that of the shamans, all over the world, since Paleolithic…

Moses, raised at the court of the Pharaohs, may well have borrowed one metaphor or two from the Egyptian culture. No one can claim having a monopoly of access to the mystery. Many years before the time of Moses, and according to the Book of Genesis, Agar, an Egyptian woman, met four times with either God or His Angels, – said Rachi, the great Jewish commentator. Sara, Abraham’s wife and Isaac’s mother, was not endowed with such a feat…

What really matters is that from age to age, exceptional men and women have seen ‘visions’, and that these ‘visions’ have transformed in a deep way their lives and the lives of those who followed them.

For thousands of years, humanity has accumulated a rich intuition of what is hidden beyond all appearances, it has perceived the probable existence of incredible depths beyond the shallowness of reality. Some men and women have at times been able to lift a corner of the veil, and to see, as if through a dream, the unbearable brilliance of an ineffable light.

It is necessary to consider the essence of what was ‘seen’ by these chosen pioneers, the depths of their experience, in the interest of Humankind as a whole. Their collective knowledge constitutes a general, universal, massive, plurimillennial, anthropological fact, anchored (then and now) in a number of living human souls, at the very bottom of the cortex.

But these fundamental experiences have not really succeeded in connecting all men of faith around the Earth. Why? Why, today, such a spectacle of religious hatred, the continuing desolation of endless violence, the proliferation of despair?

How long still will the God stay ‘hidden’?

Brain Neurochemistry and Mystic Visions

The birth of Dionysus is worth telling. There is a precise description of it in the Imagines of Philostratus the Elder.

“A cloud of fire, after enveloping the city of Thebes, tears on the palace of Cadmos where Zeus leads a happy life with Semele. Semele dies, and Dionysus is really born under the action of the flame.

We can see the erased image of Semele rising towards the sky, where the Muses will celebrate his arrival with songs. As for Dionysus, he starts from the mother’s womb, thus torn, and shining like a star, he makes the brilliance of the fire pale with his own. The flame opens, sketching around Dionysus the shape of a cave[which is covered with consecrated plants].

The propellers, the berries of ivy, the vines already strong, the stems of which we make the thyrsus cover their contours, and all this vegetation comes out of the ground so willingly, that it grows partly in the middle of the fire. And let us not be surprised that the earth lays on the flames like a crown of plants.”

Philostratus ignores the fact that Semele had wanted to see the face of Zeus, her lover, and that this was the cause of her death. Zeus, kept by a promise he had made to her to fulfill all her desires, was forced to show his face of light and fire when she made the request, knowing that by doing so he would kill her, in spite of himself.

But he didn’t want to let the child she was carrying die, which was also his. Zeus took Dionysus out of his mother’s womb and put him in the great light, in a cloud of fire. However, Dionysus himself was already a being of fire and light. Philostratus describes how Dionysus’ own fire « makes Zeus’ own fire pale ».

It should be noted above all that the divine fire of Dionysus does not consume the sacred bushes that envelop his body at the time of his birth.

In a different context, Moses sees a burning bush, which is not consumed either. The Bible gives little detail on how the bush behaves in flames.

Philostratus, on the other hand, is a little more precise: a « crown of plants » floats above the fire. The metaphor of the crown is reminiscent of an aura, a halo, or the laurels surrounding the hero’s head. Except Dionysus is not a hero, but a God.

The idea of plants burning without burning in a « fire » of divine origin is counter-intuitive.

It is possible that this idea is a hidden metaphor. The inner fire of some plants, such as Cannabis, or other psychotropic plants, is a kind of fire that affects the mind, burns it indeed, but does not (usually) consume it. This inner fire, caused by plants capable of inducing shamanic visions and even divine ecstasies, is one of the oldest ways to contemplate mysteries.

This is one of the most valuable lessons from the experiences reported by shamans in Asia, Africa, or America.

What explains the powerful affinity between psychotropic plants, human brain neurochemistry and these ecstatic, divine visions?

Why is brain chemistry capable of generating a ‘vision’ of God from psychotropic stimuli?

Why is the active ingredient of cannabis, THC (Δ9 – tetrahydrocannabinol), capable, by binding to the CB1 and CB2 receptors, of delivering man to ecstasy, and to the vision of the divine, under certain conditions?

New ways of investigating the brain should be able to be used to detect the brain regions activated during these visions.

There are two main categories of assumptions.

Either the psychotropic mechanism is entirely internal to the brain, depending only on neurobiological processes, which can get out of hand when they are somehow looped around themselves.

Either these neurobiological processes are in reality only a façade, more or less shaped throughout the evolution of the human brain. They hide or reveal, depending on the case, our direct perception of a world that is still mysterious, a parallel world, generally inaccessible to sensitivity and consciousness.

The neurochemical processes disinhibited by THC release the brain, and during ecstasy give it the opportunity to access a meta-world, usually veiled, but very real, existing independently of human consciousness.

In that assumption, the neurochemistry of cannabis does not then generate « visions » by itself; it is only a key that opens the consciousness to a world that is inaccessible, most of the time, to weak human capacities.

An “Exit” Prophecy

The Chaldaic Oracles date from the 2nd century AD. Attributed to Julian, it is a short, dense, deep, open-ended, eyes-opening text, made of oracular sentences, old, worn out, precious nuggets, whose ancient shards shine with an uncertain fire.

Here are a few of them:

« a Spirit born of the Spirit » (νοῦ γάρ νόος).

« The silence of the Fathers, of which God feeds Himself » (16).

« You know the paternal abyss by thinking of it, beyond the Cosmos » (18)

« All Spirits think this God. » (19)

« The Spirit does not subsist apart from the Intelligible, and the Intelligible does not subsist apart from the Spirit» (20)

« The fire of the Sun, He placed it in the core of the heart. » (58)

« Everything yields to the intellectual fulgurations of the intellectual Fire. » (81)

« Do not put off your Spirit » (105)

«The mortal who will aprroach the Fire will be given light by God. » (121)

« All is lit by lightning. » (147)

« When you will have seen the holy, holy Fire, burning without form, jumping around the abysses of the world, listen to the voice of Fire. » (148)

« Do not ever change the barbaric names » (150)

« Do not lean towards the low. » (164)

« The inaccessible abyss of thought. » (178)

« The ire of matter. » (180)

« Truth is in the deep » (183)

« The time of time (χρόνου χρόνος). » (185)

A thousand years after their writing, Michel Psellus (1018-1098) wrote a Commentaries of the Chaldaic Oracles, and highlighted their Assyrian and Chaldean influences.

And a thousand years later, Hans Lewy wrote his great work, Chaldean Oracles and Theurgy. Mysticism magic and platonism in the later Roman Empire (Cairo, 1956).

Many other modern scholars, such as W. Kroll, E. Bréhier, F. Cumont, E. R. Dodds, H. Jonas, also studied these texts between the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the last century.

Long before them, an ancient chain of thinkers, Eusebius, Origen, Proclus, Porphyry, Jamblicus, had traced their own paths around it.

In fact, it appears that it is necessary to go all the way back to Babylon, and even more so to Zoroastrianism, to try to understand the meaning of these magical-mystical poems, which obtained the status of sacred revelation among the neo-Platonists.

What’s left of it, nowadays?

Maybe, some ideas like that of the soul’s journey through the worlds, and words like « anagogy » or « Aion », which is another name for eternity. There also remains the hypothesis of « the noetic hypostasis of the Divinity », as Hans Lewy puts it.

G. Durand had this famous formula: « The symbol is the epiphany of a mystery. « i

Generally, today, these poems, these oracles, still mystify the world, but their sparks light up the night.

We could say the same about an ancient Proverb such as: « I, Wisdom, dwell with prudence, and find out knowledge of witty inventions.»ii

What does our “Modern times” have to say about Mystery, the “prudence of Wisdom”, or the « fulguration of the Spirit »?

It’s « the time of time », it’s time to change times! Blind and deaf modernity, Exit! Exit!

i G. Durand L’imagination poétique

ii Prov. 8,12

Silent Fire

The “wryneck” is quite a strange bird. It has two fingers in front and two fingers in back, according to Aristotle. It makes little high-pitched screams. it is able to stick its tongue out for a long time, like snakes. It gets its name, « wryneck », from its ability to turn its neck without the rest of its body moving. It is also capable of making women and men fall in lovei.

But more importantly, the “wryneck” is a divine « messenger », according to the Chaldaic Oraclesii.

There are, admittedly, many other divine “messengers”, such as the Platonic « intermediaries » (metaxu) and « demons » (daimon). Among them, there is the « Fire », which is a metaphor for the « soul of the world ». All souls are connected to the Fire, because they originated from it: « The human soul, spark of the original Fire, descends by an act of her will the degrees of the scale of beings, and comes down to lock herself in the jail of a body.» iii

How does this descent take place? It is an old “oriental” belief that souls, during their descent from the original Fire, clothe themselves with successive ‘veils’, representing the intermediate planes they have to cross through.

Every incarnating soul is in reality a fallen god. The soul strives to come out of the oblivion into which she has fallen. She must leave the « flock », subjected to an unbearable, heavy, somber fate, in order « to avoid the brazen wing of the fatal destiny »iv. To do this, she must succeed in uttering a certain word, in memory of her origin.

These « chaldaic » ideas have greatly influenced thinkers like Porphyry, Jamblicus, Syrianus and Proclus, inciting them to describe the « rise of the soul », ἀναγωγη, thus replacing the more static concepts of Greek philosophy, still used by Plotinus, and opening the possibility of theurgy, the possibility for the soul to act upon the divine.

Theurgy is « a religious system that brings us into contact with the gods, not only by the pure elevation of our intellect to the divine Noos, but by means of concrete rites and material objects »v.

Chaldaic theurgy is full of signs, expressing the unspeakable, in ineffable symbols. « The sacred names of the gods and other divine symbols raise to the gods.”vi Chaldaic prayer is effective, because « hieratic supplications are the symbols of the gods themselves »vii, wrote Edouard des Places.

“Angels of ascension” make souls rise towards them. They remove the souls from the « bonds that bind them », that is, from the vengeful nature of demons, and from the trials human souls suffer: « Let the immortal depth of the soul be opened, and dilate all your eyes well above! ».viii

Many challenges await those undertaking the spiritual ascension. The Divine is beyond the intelligible, entirely unthinkable and inexpressible, and better honored by silence.

It’s worth noting that, in Vedic ceremonies, silence plays a structurally equivalent role in approaching the mysteries of the Divine. Next to the priests who operate the Vedic sacrifice, there are priests who recite the divine hymns, others who chant them and yet others who sing them. Watching over the whole, there is another priest, the highest in the hierarchy, who stands still and remains silent throughout the ceremony.

Hymns, psalms, songs, must yield to silence itself, in the Chaldaic religion as in the Vedic religion.

The other common point in these two cults is the primary importance of Fire.

The two traditions, which are so far apart, transmit a light from a very old and deep night. They both refer to the power of the original Fire, and contrast it with the weakness of the flame that man has been given to live by:

« [Fire] is the force of a luminous sword that shines with spiritual sharp edges. It is therefore not necessary to conceive this Spirit with vehemence, but by the subtle flame of a subtle intellect, which measures all things, except this Intelligible Itself. » ix

iIn his 4th Pythic, Pindar sang Jason’s exploits in search of the Golden Fleece. Jason faces a thousand difficulties. Fortunately, the goddess Aphrodite decided to help him, by making Medea in love with him, through a bird, the “wryneck”. In Greek, this bird is called ἴϋγξ, transcribed as « iynge ». « Then the goddess with sharp arrows, Cyprine, having attached a wryneck with a thousand colours to the four spokes of an unshakeable wheel, brought from Olympus to mortals this bird of delirium, and taught the wise son of Eson prayers and enchantments, so that Medea might lose all respect for her family, and the love of Greece might stir this heart in fire under the whip of Pitho.» The magic works. The « bird of delirium » fills Medea with love for Jason. “Both agree to unite in the sweet bonds of marriage”.(Pindar, 4rth Pythic)

iiChaldaic Oracles, Fragment 78

iiiF. Cumont. Lux perpetua (1949)

ivChaldaic Oracles, Fragment 109

v A. Festugière. Révélation (1953)

viCf. Édouard des Places, dans son introduction à sa traduction des Oracles chaldaïques (1971). (Synésius de Cyrène (370-413) énonce un certain nombre de ces noms efficaces. Άνθος est la « fleur de l’Esprit », Βένθος est le « profond », Κολπος est le « Sein ineffable » (de Dieu), Σπινθήρ est « l’Étincelle de l’âme, formée de l’Esprit et du Vouloir divins, puis du chaste Amour » : « Je porte en moi un germe venu de Toi, une étincelle de noble intelligence, qui s’est enfoncée dans les profondeurs de la matière. » Ταναός est la « flamme de l’esprit tendué à l’extrême », et Τομή est « la coupure, la division », par laquelle se produit « l’éclat du Premier Esprit qui blesse les yeux ».Proclus s’empara de ces thèmes nouveaux pour éveiller la « fleur », la « fine pointe de l’âme ».)

viiÉdouard des Places, Introduction. Oracles chaldaïques (1971)

viiiChaldaic Oracles, fragment 112

ix Chaldaic Oracles, fragment 1.

A Very Long Journey

A Jewish historian, Artapanus, living in Alexandria under the Ptolemy, more than 2300 years ago, affirmed that Moses and Hermes Trismegistus were one and the same person. This provocative thesis is obviously controversial. But from the point of view of cultures quietly assuming their « symbiosis » (such as the one prevailing in the vibrant Alexandria of this time), this idea has the merit of being a pungent symptom.

Whether or not he was in fact Moses, the man named Hermes Trismegistus was a remarkable character. Almost two thousand years before Blaise Pascal, Hermes struck a famous formula, quoted in the Asclepius: « God, – a spiritual circle whose center is everywhere, and the circumference nowhere. »

His Poimandrès is also moving by his scope of vision, and the prophetic power of his intuitions. Here are the first lines.

« I was thinking about beings one day; my thoughts hovered in the heights, and all my body sensations were numb as in the heavy sleep that follows satiety, excess or fatigue. It seemed to me that an immense being, without defined limits, called me by name and said to me: What do you want to hear and see, what do you want to learn and know?

– Who are you, I answered?

– I am, he said, Poimandrès, the sovereign intelligence. I know what you want, and everywhere I am with you.

– I want, I replied, to be educated about beings, to understand their nature and to know God.

– Receive in your mind everything you want to know, » he said to me, « I will instruct you.

At these words, he changed his appearance, and immediately everything was discovered to me in a moment, and I saw an indefinable spectacle. »

There is something divine in Hermes, just like in Moses. Why hide it? Today, there are few men of this calibre. Does this make the world more difficult to live in? Less open to wisdom? This can be believed if we stick to Plato’s description of the philosopher.

« This is why the philosopher’s thought is the only winged one; for those higher realities to which he is constantly applied by memory to the extent of his forces, it is to these very realities that God owes his divinity. However, it is by straightforwardly using such means of remembrance that a man who is always perfectly initiated to perfect initiations, becomes, alone, really perfect. But as he departs from what is the object of human concern and applies to what is divine, the crowd shows him that he is disturbed in spirit; but he is possessed of a God, and the crowd does not suspect it! »i

Today, as in the past, the opinion of the crowd often prevails over that of the wise man. But the latter does not care. He is « possessed ».

There is nothing better, in order to understand an era, than to look at the forms of “possession”, of « disturbance », the ways of « delirium », which it condemns or recognizes.

In Poimandrès Hermes gives crucial indications in this regard on the concerns of his time. He describes his own transport in an immortal body, and the ecstasy of his soul.

In the Symposium, Plato recounts the dive of purified souls into the ocean of divine beauty. In the Epinomis, he explains how the soul can be united with God, then living through Him, rather than by herself.

It is difficult not to be struck by the incredible distance between the experience of these ancient thinkers and that of most intellectuals and other publicists at the beginning of the 21st century.

Few, it seems, can still get the faintest idea of what the experience of ecstasy was really like for Moses, for Hermes, or for Socrates.

« Modern thinkers » have almost completely severed the links with these multi-millennial experiments. We see in the media professionals of the sacredness, spokesmen for faith X, religion Y or spirituality Z, parading on stages, pulpits, platforms, or screens, proclaiming themselves guardians of divine laws, imposing sermons and homilies, launching anathema or fatwas.

The modern domain of the « sacred » forms a noisy, blurred, confused scene.This confusion hides a more substantial opacity. The untouched, unsuspected mystery still lies in the depths, much deeper than the spiritual night that surrounds us on all sides. Marsilio Ficino, one of the Renaissance thinkers who best resisted modern desiccation, then in genesis, described an interesting phenomenon, the path of the mind captured by the object of his research:

« By ardently loving this light, even if it is obscurely perceived, these intelligences are completely engulfed in its heat, and once they are engulfed, which is the hallmark of love, they are transformed into light. Strengthened by this light, they very easily become by love the very light they previously tried to follow with their eyes.»ii

Ficino, who seems to have experienced the thing for himself, believes that there are nine possible degrees of contemplation of God. Three are related to his goodness, three are related to his wisdom, and three are related to his power. But these approaches are not equivalent.

“We fear the power of God, we seek his wisdom, we love his goodness. Only the love of his goodness transforms the soul into God.”iii

Why all these ways, then, if there is only one effective? The symbolism of the number 9 is to be taken into account. Virgil used it, too. « The Styx, interposing itself nine times, locks them in. »iv

Ficino quotes Hesiod, Virgil, Ovid, Hermes Trismegistus, Plato. In the middle of the Renaissance, he dreams of the golden age, during which the mysteries had been contemplated.

The intelligence of men is bound and weak. To dream today of a new golden age is to believe once again in a possible leap, a huge leap, from this weakness, towards the vision of the high mysteries, or even their understanding.

The testimony of the great elders on this subject is invaluable. They say the leap is possible. They suggest that this experience is always open to anyone who undertakes this journey with determination. We must rely on the general strengths of universal symbiosis to help us through the difficult stages that await the Argonauts of life. Orpheus warns: « It is impossible to force the gates of the kingdom of Pluto; inside lives the people of dreams.»v

But these doors can be opened, as if by magic. How? Orpheus entrusts his method: « Daughters of Mnemosyne and Jupiter, O famous and illustrious Muses, goddesses who will generate all the arts, nourish the spirit, inspire right thoughts, wisely rule the souls of men and have taught them divine sacrifices; Clio, Euterpe, Thalie, Melpomene, Terpsichore, Erato, Polymnia, Urania and Calliope, come with your august mother; come to us and be favourable to us, bring us the Almighty Glory and Wisdom.»vi

For those who would have a sensitivity to immanence, Orpheus proposes to invoke the « universal substance »:

« I invoke Pan, the universal substance of the world, of the sky, of the deep sea, of the earth of various forms and of the imperishable flame. These are just scattered members of Pan. Pan at the feet of goats, wandering god, master of storms, who drives the stars and whose voice represents the eternal concerts of the world, god loved by herdsmen and pastors who love the clear fountains, fast god who inhabits the hills, friend of sound, dear god of nymphs, god who generates all things, procreative power of the universe.»vii

For those who prefer to put themselves under the shadow of the Law, Orpheus also has a sign:

« I invoke the divine Law, the genius of men and immortals; the heavenly goddess, governing the stars, the common sign of all things, the foundation of nature, the sea and the earth. A constant Goddess, keeping the eternal laws of heaven and faithfully carrying out her immense revolutions; you who grant mortals the benefits of a prudent life and govern all that breathes; you whose wise counsel directs all things according to equity, goddess always favourable to the just, but overwhelming the wicked with severe punishments, sweet goddess who distributes goods with delicious largess, remember us and speak our name with friendship.»viii

The journey has only just begun. It has no end. Any vessel will do, to the one who knows the bearings, even fuzzily. Only imagination and hope are likely to be in short supply. And courage.

i Phaedrus, 249, c-d

iiMarsilio Ficino, Th. Plat. 18,8


iv Georg. IV, 480

v Argonaut., 1142

vi Argonaut., 1142

vii Orpheus, Hymns, X

viii Hymns, LXI

Symbiosis : an Universal Paradigm

Symbiosis is a fascinating subject, with indescribable extensions, not devoid of universal implications, and metaphysical considerations.

Almost all animals and plants use symbiotic bacteria, which allow them to perform certain metabolic functions by proxy. Some plants have bacteria that fix nitrogen. In the stomachs of cows, there are bacteria that digest cellulose.

Mitochondria and chloroplasts, essential components of cells, were once independent creatures, living independently of their current hosts. It is their genomic DNA, very different from that of their current host cells, that bears witness to this distant past.

It is inferred that mitochondria and chloroplasts penetrated primitive cells at a remote time and then adapted to life inside these cells. The symbiosis between mitochondria, chloroplasts and primitive cells is at the origin of giant leaps in the evolution of life. The assembly of simple structures with specific biological properties has made it possible to build increasingly complex cellular structures faster and faster. The mechanism of symbiosis thus avoided the already advanced cells having to reinvent by chance of genetic mutations what the symbiotic creatures brought them directly, on a plateau of sorts.

Physicist Freeman Dyson observes that in the universe, very many cases of symbiosis are also observed. We’re talking about symbiotic stars. Many of the objects observed in the universe are associated in symbiotic systems, either in pairs or within more complex systems. Symbiotic galaxy pairs are widespread. These symbioses frequently prepare fusions, just as ancestral cells ingested mitochondria and chloroplasts. Thus large galaxies « swallow » small galaxies after having been symbiotically associated with them for some time. The nuclei of swallowed galaxies are observed inside those that have swallowed them. This is called « galactic cannibalism ».

At the star scale, there are also many cases of symbiosis. Symbiotic star pairs are composed of a highly condensed element such as a white dwarf, a neutron star or even a black hole, and another normal star, which will also eventually be swallowed.

Symbiosis phenomena have been discovered between two neutron stars, which slow each other down due to the interaction of their gravitational waves. In the end they merge together and create a unique star in a gigantic splash of light and stellar matter, within a few thousandths of a second. This type of phenomenon is observed several times a day, through gamma-ray discharges, which are considered to be the most violent events in the universe, even more so than supernova explosions.

The Sun and Earth also form a symbiotic couple. The Earth brings chemical and environmental diversity. The Sun guarantees a stable supply of energy. Life was born thanks to the combination of the Earth’s potentialities, its variability, with the constancy and stability of the Sun.

The symbiosis paradigm applies to cells and galaxies, and also to man. For example, in the human couple. Or, on a different scale, in cultures and civilizations that are capable of symbiotic union.

We can hypothesize the existence of other forms of symbiosis, more abstract or more philosophical. Thus, the relationship of tension between the manifest and the latent can be described as symbiotic, or the link between the evidence of the phenomenal world and the mystery of the noumenal world, or between the relationship between the human and the divine.

It is possible, in order to continue to spin the metaphor of symbiosis, that we are not alone, isolated in our minds and souls, solitary like navigators lost in the ocean. We may well be, without our own knowledge, associated by several kinds of symbioses with higher forms of life whose form and power we cannot conceive, but which accompany us, throughout our peregrinations, in different planes of reality.

If everything is a system, as the ancient Chinese civilization likes to emphasize, then it is possible that our very being is an integral, systemic part of a multiplicity of symbioses, of varying importance.

Just as mitochondria play a particular role in the metabolism of each cell, just as the entire universe constantly produces countless forms of symbiosis under the influence of gravitational forces, so men, individually and collectively, may play their symbiotic role, blind, unravelable, but not mythical, on scales of time and reality, which we are unable to suspect.

In the Mire, Drowning Angels.

We humans are fundamentally nomads, – with no nomosi. We are forever nomads with no limits, and no ends.

Always dissatisfied, never at peace, never at rest, perpetually on the move, forever in exile.

The Journey has no end. Wandering is meaningless, without clues. The homelands are suffocating. Landscapes are passing by, and we have no roots. No abyss fulfills us. The deepest oceans are empty. The skies, down there, are fading. The suns are pale, the moons dirty. The stars are blinking. We can only breathe for a moment.

Our minds would like to look beyond the diffuse background, behind the veiled Cosmos. But even an infinitely powerful Hubble telescope couldn’t show us anything of what’s behind. Cosmology is a prison, only vaster, but still finite, bounded, and we are already tired of endless, useless, multiverses, and weary of their aborted drafts.

The worried soul « pursues an Italy that is slipping away », but Virgil is not anymore our vigilante, and Aeneas is not our elder. Rome has forgotten itself. Athens has died out. Jerusalem, we already have returned there, – so they say.

Billions of people live, dream and die on the Promised Land.

They try, every night, to drink the water of the Lethe and the Cocyte, without being burnt by the Phlegethon. When they wake up, they are always thirsty for new caresses, they want again to smell myrrh, to taste nectars.

They try to avoid the icy skin of mirrors. They desperately scan the hairy mountains, the undecided rivers, the bitter oranges. They follow the hard curve of the fruits, the orb of the colors.

But at one point the heart hits, the body falls. At any moment, the final night will cover the sun. Forgetting all will come without fail.

Euripides called life: « the dream of a shadow ».ii

This shadow has two wings, – not six, like Ezekiel’s angels.

Intelligence and will are our wings, says Plato.

With one wing, the shadow (or the soul) sucks in, breathes in. The world comes into her.

With the other wing, she goes to all things, she flies freely, anywhere.

When the two wings flap together, then anything is possible. The soul can evade anywhere, even out of herself, and even from God Himself. As Marsilio Ficino says: « Animus noster poterit deus quidam evadere ».

There is a mysterious principle at the heart of the soul: she becomes what she’s looking for. She is transformed into what she loves.

Who said that? A litany of impressive thinkers. Zoroaster, King David. Plato, Porphyry, Augustine. Paul put it that way: « And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory. »iii

It is indeed a mysterious principle.

The word ‘mystery’ comes from the Greek μύω, to close. This verb was originally used for the eyes, or for the lips. Closed eyes. Closed lips. The religious meaning, as a derivative, describes an ancient problem: how could what is always closed be ever opened?

Zoroaster found an answer, kind of: « The human soul encloses God in herself, so to speak, when, keeping nothing mortal, she gets drunk entirely on the divinity”.iv

Who still reads or pays attention to Zoroaster today?

Nietzsche? But Nietzsche, the gay barbarian, joyfully ripped away his nose, teeth and tongue. After that, he pretended he could speak on his behalf. Also Sprach Zarathustra. Ach so? Wirklich?

There are two kinds of thinkers.

There are the atrabilaries, who distill their venom, their suspicions, their despair, or their limitations, like Aristotle, Chrysippus, Zeno, Averroes, Schopenhauer or Nietzsche.

And there are the optimists, Heraclitus, Pythagoras, Socrates, Plato, or Apollonius of Thyana. They believe in life and in everything that may flourish.

We’ll rely on Heraclitus for a concluding line: “If you do not expect the unexpected you will not find it, for it is not to be reached by search or trail”. (Fragm. 18)

What can we learn from that fragment?

Without hope, everything is and will stay forever mud, mire, or muck. We have to search for the unexpected, the impossible, the inaccessible… What on earth could it be? – Gold in the mud, – or in the mire, drowning angels?

iNomos (Greek) = Law

ii Medea, 1224

iii2 Co 3,18

iv ChaldaicOracles V. 14.21

Mixed Souls

The soul is a kind of « heteroclite beast », like the Chimera or Cerberus, says Plato. He represents her as an assemblage of several monsters, whose heads form a « crown ». Some of these heads are peaceful, the others are fierce and ferocious. This beastly crown thrones over the body of a lion, coupled with that of a man. All this is wrapped in human skin, which gives the observer the impression that this composite creature has the appearance of a man.i

The idea of mixing the bestial and the human in several degrees of composition is taken up in another text, Timaeus, where Plato defines the soul of the world.

The soul of the world is described as an « indivisible reality that always remains identical », a « reality that is divisible and subject to becoming « , and finally a « third form of reality », called « intermediate », which is obtained by mixing the first two kinds of realities.

The soul of the world is thus a mixture of three elements: an indivisible one, a divisible one and a third one which is itself a mixture of the first two.

It may seem a little redundant, like a mixture of a mixture with itself… Or, logically, this could also imply that the third form of reality does not mix with the first two realities, indivisible and divisible, in the same way and with the same effects, as we observe when we mix the first two kinds of realities. In short, mixing is not a linear operation, but rather an « epigenetic » one, we would say today.

God, Plato continues, took these three kinds of reality and mixed them together to melt them into a single substance.

But, how to mix the divisible with the indivisible, the « Same » with the « Other »? « The nature of the Other was rebellious to the mixture; to unite it harmoniously to the Same,[God] used constraint; then in the mixture he introduced Reality; of the three terms, he made a unity. »ii

The soul of the world is therefore a mixture of three terms: the Same, the Other and « Intermediate Reality ».

If we compare this mixture with the mixture of the human soul, what do we see? The human soul is composed, as we remember, of a crown of animal heads, a leonine form and a human form.

Can the terms of these two mixtures be reconciled?

The « crown of animal heads » could be analogous to the Intermediate Reality. The « lion » could be assimilated to the Same, and « man » to the Other.

We can imagine other correspondences between the structure of the soul of the world and the structure of the human soul. But the important point is elsewhere.

The fundamental idea is that the human soul is, by the very principle of its composition, the image of all things. It contains in power the possible developments of all living beings.

Plato reinforces this idea with another image. The soul comes, he says, from a « cup » where God has cast all the seeds of the universe, and « mixed them ». It follows that every soul contains in power all these seeds, all these germs, all these possibilities.

iPlato The RepublicIX, 558e

iiPlato. Timaeus, 35a,b

Flying Without Wings

Minding one’s own mind is a difficult art. One must juggle with the uncontrolled power of ideas, the tyranny of imagination, the empire of reason, the excesses of imitation, and the probable (in-)adequacy of the mind to reality.

One must also consider the conformation of the soul’s desire to her true end. The soul is basically a mystery to herself. How could she unravel mysteries far from her attainment, when she is evidently unable to understand herself, or to escape the grip of her drifting imagination?

The myth, it seems, may be for the soul an alternative path of research. It is one way to escape the tyranny of the déjà vu and its consequences. A way to set her free, while giving in to her vertigo.

Here is an example.

In the Timaeus, Plato describes the power that the soul exerts over the body, and in the Phaedrus, he deals with the soul liberated from the body.

On the one hand, the soul is in charge of the body into which it has descended. On the other hand, the soul freed from the body travels through the heavens and governs the world. So doing, she binds herself to celestial souls.

Her liberation is accompanied by frankly enigmatic phenomena:

« Where does it come from that the names of mortal and also immortal are given to the living, that is what we must try to say. Every soul takes care of everything that is devoid of a soul and, on the other hand, circulates throughout the whole universe, presenting herself there sometimes in one form and sometimes in another. However, when she is perfect and has her wings, it is in the heights that she walks, it is the whole world that she administers. »i

The soul « has her wings » and is called to administer the « whole world ». What does that mean?

By commenting on this passage, Marsilio Ficino brings it closer to another text by Plato which states in a rather obscure way:

« The need for intelligence and the soul united to intelligence exceeds all necessity. »ii

This comment requires an explanation.

When the soul is liberated, that is, when she leaves the body, she takes advantage of this freedom to unite herself « necessarily » to the intelligence. Why « necessarily »? Because in the spiritual world there is a law of attraction that is analogous to the law of universal attraction in the physical universe. This law is the law of the love that the free soul « necessarily » feels for the (divine) intelligence.

When she unites with the ‘intelligence’, the soul becomes « winged ». She can do anything, including « administering the whole world ».

This explanation doesn’t explain much, actually.

Why is the « perfect » soul, « winged », called to « administer the whole world »?

In reality, the mystery is thickening. The Platonic myth only opens doors to other, more obscure questions.

Two thousand years after Plato, Marsilio Ficino proposed an interpretation of these difficult questions:

“All reasonable souls possess an upper part, spiritual, an intermediate part, rational, a lower part, vital. Intermediate power is a property of the soul. Spiritual power is a ray of higher intelligence projected on the soul, and in turn reflected on the higher intelligence. The vital power is also an act of the soul reflecting on the body and then repercussions on the soul, just as sunlight in the cloud is, according to its own quality, a light, but as it emanates from the sun, is ray, and as it fills the cloud, is whiteness.”iii

The thicker the mystery gets, the more images multiply!

Ray, light and whiteness represent different states of intelligence mixing with the mind (the ray becomes light), and of spirit mixing with the world and matter (light becomes whiteness).

We may also understand that the « ray » is a metaphor of the (divine) intelligence, that the « light » is a metaphor of the power of the (human) spirit, and that whiteness is a metaphor of the vital power of the soul. These images (ray, light, whiteness) have a general scope, – which applies to the world as well as to the mind.

So is the myth.

The myth is like a « light », generated by a « ray » striking the mind, and generating « whiteness » in it (i.e. revelation).

The « ray », the “light”, the “whiteness” are images, metaphors, for the Word (Logos), the Myth (Mythos), and Reason (Logos, again), as various degrees of illumination.

Is this explanation enlightening enough?

If not, you will have to learn to fly, without wings, radar and GPS, in the nights and fogs of the world.

i Phaedrus 246 b,c

iiPlato. Epinomis 982 b

iiiMarsilio Ficino Platonic Theology, 13,4

A World Renaissance

Pythagoras and Plato attached their names to the power of numbers. Each number carries a symbolic charge. The simplest are the most meaningful. They can be associated by imagination with the higher functions of the soul.

The 1, or « unity », symbolizes intelligence because it is unified in intuition or in concept. Through intuition or concept intelligence grasps what makes the “unity” of the thing, and thereby reveals itself as « one ».

The 2, or « duality », represents science, because it starts from a principle, to reach a conclusion. It goes from one to the other, and thus generates the idea of duality.

The 3, or « trinity », is the number associated with opinion. The opinion goes from one to two (which makes three): it starts from a single principle but reaches two opposite conclusions. One seems accepted, provisionally « concluded », but the other remains « fear », always possible. The opinion, by its intrinsic doubt, introduces a ternary ambiguity.

The 4, or « quaternity », is associated with the senses. The first of the quaternities is the idea of the body, which consists of “four angles”, according to Plato.

The 1, 2, 3 and 4 altogether symbolize the fact that all things are known either by intelligence, or by science, or by opinion, or by the senses.

Unity, duality, trinity and quaternity are « engrammed » in the soul.

From this, Plato concludes that the soul is « separated ».

It is « separated » from matter and the body because it is composed of four unalterable, eternal numbers that serve as its essential principles.

How could one deny the eternity of the 1, 2, 3, 4 ?

And if the soul is composed of, or ‘engrammed with’, the ideas of the 1, the 2, the 3 and the 4, how could one deny its own eternity?

This Platonic idea is worth what it is worth. At least we cannot deny in it a certain logic, which combines reason, imagination and myth.

And this idea opens the way for Platonic « great stories » about the soul, the world and the Author, which it is difficult, even today, to throw into the dustbins of History.

But above all, it should be stressed that this idea, as well as the whole Pythagorean and Platonic philosophies that result from it, is bathed in a deep shadow, whose sources come from extremely ancient times.

Twenty centuries after Plato, Marsilio Ficino stated that the construction of the Platonic imagination would not have been possible without the immemorial contribution of seers, diviners, prophets, aruspices, auspices, astrologers, Magi, Sibyls and Pythias. He summed it up as such: « When the soul of man is completely separated from the body, it will embrace, the Egyptians believe, every country and every age. »i

In the midst of the European Renaissance, Marsilio Ficino, a humanist thinker, wanted to reconnect with the mysteries of the East and the lightning-fast, millenary intuitions of their greatest geniuses.

Happy times when Orient and Occident thinkers were seen as allies in the search for answers…

At the dawn of a chaotic third millennium, we need to build the conditions for a World Renaissance, we need to create a new civilization on a global scale.

For the world to live, we need to embrace, in the midst of each of our souls, every country and every age.

i Cf. Marsilio Ficino Platonic Theology

The Absurd Reason

The prophet Daniel speaks as a seer: “And many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. And they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever. » (Dan. 12,2-3)

This saying refers to the « wise » and to the “righteous”. It is not just a question of knowledge, but of justice, of a wisdom that is less human than divine. How to reach it? How to access these high places?

Many are those who doubt their own divinity, those who have never turned their eyes to the splendour of intelligence, of wisdom. There are even more who prefer the mist of the senses, the thickness of the bodies, to the thin acuity of the soul.

How would they achieve the wisdom and justice that Daniel is talking about?

Plato, who was not a prophet, but no less a seer, advises us to meditate unceasingly on death.

“Either in no way can we ever acquire knowledge, or it is for us only once we have passed away.”i

The way to be as close to divine knowledge as possible is to have as little trade as possible with the body. Going to the limit, we deduce that death only is the kingdom of true knowledge. This is the « immense hope » that Socrates joyfully shares with his afflicted friends, shortly before drinking the hemlock.

What is this hope based on? It is based on an idea as anti-modern as possible: « We are divine beings ». How can such a statement be made? “Because, momentarily deprived of our heavenly abode and homeland, that is, as long as we are on earth God’s substitutes, we are constantly tormented by the desire of this heavenly homeland and no earthly pleasure can console in the present exile the human intelligence desiring a better condition.”ii

This immense hope, without reason, is based – it is a paradox – on the sole activity of reason.

Marsilio Ficino gives this explanation:

“The hope of immortality results from a surge of reason, since the soul hopes not only without the help of the senses, but despite their opposition. That is why I find nothing more admirable than this hope, because, while we live incessantly among ephemeral beings, we do not cease to hope.”iii

These unreasonable ideas have been shared by thinkers as diverse as Zoroaster, Hermes Trismegistus, Orpheus, Aglaopheme, Pythagoras, Plato… They have created schools of thought, their disciples have proliferated: Xenocrat, Arcesilas, Carneade, Ammonius, Plotinus, Proclus…

On a philosophical level, Socrates’ argument seems to have a certain scope. Reason says that there are only two hypotheses: either knowledge is not possible at all, or it is only possible after death.

If we decide to ignore the Socratic, resolutely optimistic point of view, absolute horror would therefore resemble this: to see clearly with the eyes of pure reason the absurdity and inanity of a human condition, capable of reason, and capable of drawing from it the most crazy, most absurd hypotheses.

iPhaedo, 66 e

ii Marsilio Ficino, Platonic Theology Book XVI


Synapses and Soul Epigenesis

Why are souls ‘locked’ in earthly bodies? This very old question has received many answers, but after so many centuries, none consensual.

For some, this question has no meaning at all, since it presupposes a dualism of spirit and matter, of soul and body, in Plato’s way. And Platonic ideas are rejected by materialists: the soul is for them only a kind of epiphenomenon of the body, or the outcome of an epigenetic growth.

In the materialistic approach, one cannot say that the soul is ‘locked’, since it is consubstantial with the flesh: it blossoms fully in it, vivifies it, and receives all its sap from it reciprocally.

But can a spiritual ‘principle’ (the soul) share a material ‘substance’ with a material entity (the body)? How to explain the interaction of immateriality with materialism?

Descartes saw in the pineal gland the place of the union of the soul with the body. This small endocrine gland is also called conarium or the epiphysis cerebri. I can’t resist quoting Wikipedia’s definition of pineal gland, such is its wild poetry:

“The pineal gland is a midline brain structure that is unpaired. It takes its name from its pine-cone shape. The gland is reddish-gray and about the size of a grain of rice (5–8 mm) in humans. The pineal gland, also called the pineal body, is part of the epithalamus, and lies between the laterally positioned  thalamic bodies and behind the habenular commissure. It is located in the quadrigeminal cistern near to the corpora quadrigemina. It is also located behind the third ventricle and is bathed in cerebrospinal fluid supplied through a small pineal recess of the third ventricle which projects into the stalk of the gland.”

Raw flavor of learned words…

In the Veda, the pineal gland is associated with the cakra « ājnā » (the forehead), or with the cakra « sahasrara » (the occiput).

The main question of the coexistence or the intimate conjunction of soul and body is not so much the question of its actual place as the question of its reason.

The reason why souls are « locked » in the bodies is « to know the singular », says Marcile Ficin. Ficin is a neoplatonician philosopher. This explains why he is a priori in favour of soul-body dualism. Souls, of divine origin, need to incarnate in order to complete their ‘education’. If they remained outside the body, then they would be unable to distinguish individuals, and then to get out of the world of pure abstractions and general ideas.

« Let us consider the soul of man at the very moment when it emanates from God and is not yet clothed with a body (…) What will the soul seize? As many ideas as there are species of creatures, only one idea of each species. What will she understand by the idea of a man? She will see that the nature common to all men, but will not see the individuals included in this nature (…) Thus the knowledge of this soul will remain confused, since the distinct progression of species towards the singular escapes her (…) and her appetite for truth will be unsatisfied. If the soul, from birth, remained outside the body, it would know the universals, it would not distinguish individuals either by its own power or by the divine ray seized by it, because its intelligence would not go beyond the ultimate ideas and reason would rest on the eyes of intelligence. But in this body, because of the senses, reason is accustomed to moving among individuals, to applying the particular to the general, to moving from the general to the particular. »i

Indeed Plotin and, long before him, the Egyptians, believed that the soul, by its nature, participates in divine intelligence and will. « Therefore, according to the Egyptians, one should not say that sometimes it stays there and sometimes goes elsewhere, but rather that now it gives life to the earth and then does not give it. »ii

Life is a kind of battle, a battle, where souls are engaged, ignoring the fate that will be reserved for them. No one can explain to us why this battle is taking place, nor the role of each of the souls. « The dead don’t come back, you don’t see them, they don’t do anything (…) But why would an old soldier who’s done his time return to combat? ».

But war metaphors are dangerous because they are anthropomorphic. They deprive us of the quality of invention we would need to imagine a universe of other meanings.

The Platonicians have a metaphor on these questions, less warlike, more peaceful, that of the ‘intermediary’.

They consider that human life is ‘intermediate’ between divine life and the life of animals. And the soul, in leading this intermediate life, thus touches both extremes.

This short circuit between the beast and the divine is the whole of man. Obviously, there is such a difference in potential, but when the current flows, the light comes.

The soul of the newborn child knows nothing about the world, but it is potentially able to learn anything. Its synapses connect and reconfigure several tens of millions of times per second. We can now observe this curious phenomenon in real time on screens. This intense (electro-synaptic) activity testifies to the adventure of the emerging « spirit », meeting the succession of singularities, caresses and rubbing, shimmers and shininess, vibrations and murmurs of tastes and flavours.

The Vedic vision includes this systemic, self-emerging, non-materialistic image.

Veda and neurological imaging meet on this point: the passage through the bodies is a necessary condition for the epigenesis of the soul.

i Marcile Ficin, Platonician Theology. Book 16. Ch. 1

ii Ibid. Ch.5

What do we have (yet) to lose?

Gérard de Nerval was imbued with shamanism and orphism. With its calculated, ironic and visionary poetry, Voyage en Orient bears witness to these tropisms.

« They plunged me three times into the waters of the Cocyte » (Antéros).

The four rivers of Hell, who can cross their liquid walls? Can a pale poet cross these bitter barriers, these dark, convulsive masses?

« Et j’ai deux fois vainqueur traversé l’Achéron,

Modulant tour à tour sur la lyre d’Orphée

Les soupirs de la sainte et les cris de la fée.”

(And I have twice a winner crossed the Acheron

Modulating in turn on the lyre of Orpheus

The sighs of the saint and the cries of the fairy.) (El Desdichado)

Nerval’s work is influenced by the tutelary figure of Orpheus, prince of poets, lovers and mystics – explorer of the depths.

Orpheus was dismembered alive by the Bacchae in madness, but continued to sing from the mouth of his beheaded head. His singing had already persuaded Hades to let him leave Hell with Eurydice. The condition was that he did not look at her, until he came out of the world of the dead. Worried about the silence of the beloved, he turned his head when they had arrived at the edge of the world of the living. He lost again, and forever, Eurydice.

Instead of looking at her, he could have talked to her, held her by the hand, or inhaled her scent, to make sure she was there? No, he had to see her, to look at her. As a result, she died.

Why do heroes want to face Hell?

What haunts them is whether death is real, or imaginary. What drives them is the desire to see the loved ones again, though lost forever. In these difficult circumstances, they must acquire special powers, magical abilities. Orpheus’ strengths were music, song and poetry.

Music produces, even in Hell, a form, a meaning, and calls for the poem. Orpheus might have sung:

« Always, under the branches of Virgil’s laurel

The pale hydrangea unites with the green myrtle.  » (Myrto)

Gérard de Nerval was inspired. By what?

From the scattered crumbs, let us deduce the bread that feeds him.

« Man, free thinker! Do you think you’re the only one thinking

In this world where life is bursting into everything?


Each flower is a soul to nature blooms.

A mystery of love in metal rests.


Often in the dark being dwells a hidden God

And like a nascent eye covered by his eyelids,

A pure spirit grows under the bark of the stones.  » (Golden Verses)

The poets lose, lost, in the theological assaults. Nerval admits defeat, false hopes and real regret:

« They will return these Gods that you always cry for!

Time will bring back the order of the old days,

The earth shuddered with a prophetic breath…

However, the sibyl with its Latin face

Is asleep under the arch of Constantine

And nothing disturbed the severe gantry.  » (Delfica)

Did Nerval believe in the breath of the sibyl, in the order of the day?

Orpheus, Nerval, prophetic poets.

During the Renaissance, Marsile Ficin presented Orpheus as an explorer of Chaos and a theologian of love.

« Gilded in Argonautics imitating the Theology of Mercury Trismegist, when he sings principles of things in the presence of Chiron and the heroes, that is, angelic men, puts Chaos before the world, & before Saturn, Iupiter and the other gods, within this Chaos, he welcomes Love, saying Love is very ancient, by itself perfect, of great counsel. Plato in Timaeus similarly describes Chaos, and here puts Love. »i

Chaos is before the gods, – before the very sovereign God, Jupiter. And in Chaos, there is Love!

« Finally, in all of us, Love accompanies Chaos, and precedes the world, excites the things that sleep, illuminates the dark ones: gives life to the dead things: forms the unformed, and gives perfection to the imperfect. » ii

This « good news » was first announced by Orpheus.

« But the unique invisible perpetual light of the divine Sun, by its presence, always gives comfort, life and perfection to all things. Of what divinely sang Orpheus saying:

God the Eternal Love all things comforts

And on all of them is spread, animated and supported. »

Orpheus bequeathed to humanity these simple pearls:

« Love is more ancient and younger than other Gods ».

« Love is the beginning and the end. He is the first and last of the gods. »

Merci, Marcile. Perfect, Orpheus.

Finally, Ficin specifies the figure of the last of all the gods: « There are therefore four kinds of divine fury. The first is the Poetic Fury. The second is the Mystical, that is, the Priestly. The third is Divination. The fourth is the Affection of Love. Poetry depends on the Muses: The Mystery of Bacchus: The Divination of Apollo & The Love of Venus. Certainly Soul cannot return to unity unless it becomes unique.” iii

The One. Love. The Union. This is the message Orpheus reports.

To hear it first, Orpheus must have lost Eurydice.

But to hear it, what do we have yet to lose?

iMarsile Ficin. Discours de l’honneste amour sur le banquet de Platon, Oraison 1ère, Ch. 2, (1578)

ii Marsile Ficin. Discours de l’honneste amour sur le banquet de Platon, Oraison 1ère, Ch. 2, (1578)

iii Ibid., Oraison 7, Ch. 14

Métaphysique du Sommeil et de la Langueur

Dans son livre L’Anneau, ou la Pierre brillante, Jan van Ruisbroeck, dit ‘l’Admirable’, un moine flamand du 14ème siècle, parle d’un certain degré de jouissance qui advient lors de ce qu’il appelle le ‘sommeil en Dieu’.

Il place ce degré juste après celui du ‘repos’ de l’âme en possession de l’amour divin, et avant celui de son ‘trépas’ dans la ténèbre de Dieu, dans la profondeur de son abîme.

« Il y a encore trois degrés plus élevés qui fixent l’homme et le rendent apte à jouir sans cesse de Dieu, et à prendre conscience de lui chaque fois qu’il veut s’y appliquer. Le premier est le repos pris en celui dont on jouit : et cela a lieu lorsque le bien-aimé est vaincu par son bien-aimé, lorsqu’il est possédé par lui d’amour pur et essentiel, lorsqu’enfin il tombe amoureusement sur l’objet de son amour, de sorte que chacun jouit en repos de la pleine possession de l’autre.
Le second degré s’appelle un sommeil en Dieu, qui a lieu lorsque l’esprit se perd lui-même, sans savoir ce qu’il devient, où il va et comment cela se fait.
Le dernier degré dont on puisse parler est celui où l’esprit contemple une ténèbre, où il ne peut pénétrer par la raison. Là il se sent trépassé et perdu, et un avec Dieu sans différence ni distinction. Et en cette unité, c’est Dieu même qui devient sa paix, sa jouissance et son repos. Aussi est-ce là une profondeur d’abîme, où l’esprit doit trépasser en béatitude et revivre à nouveau en vertus, ainsi que l’amour et sa touche le commandent.»i

Pour décrire les différents niveaux de rencontre avec la divinité, Ruysbroeck utilise des métaphores mimant trois degrés croissants de passivité de la conscience : le degré de l’indolence, du relâchement ou de la torpeur, ensuite le degré de la léthargie, de l’assoupissement ou de l’endormissement, et enfin le degré du trépas, de la perte ou de la disparition.

Dans le premier degré, l’âme « se repose », dans le second elle « sommeille », et dans le troisième, elle « trépasse ».

Dans le même ouvrage, Ruysbroeck utilise également un tout autre registre de métaphores, beaucoup plus ‘actives’, impliquant soit des mouvements ‘vers le bas’ (plongée dans l’abîme sans fond, engloutissement, immersion, liquéfaction, fusion, union insondable) soit des mouvements ‘vers le haut’ (dépassement, embrasement, élévation, surélévation)  :

« Comprenez bien, vous qui désirez vivre de la vie de l’esprit, car je ne m’adresse à nul autre. Lorsque l’union avec Dieu que l’homme spirituel ressent en lui-même apparaît à son esprit comme insondable, c’est-à-dire d’une profondeur, d’une hauteur, d’une longueur et d’une largeur qui dépassent toute mesure; cet homme s’aperçoit en même temps que par l’amour il est lui-même plongé en cette profondeur, élevé jusqu’à cette hauteur, perdu en cette longueur, errant en cette largeur, habitant enfin lui-même en celui qu’il connaît et qui cependant dépasse toute connaissance. De plus, il se voit comme englouti lui-même dans l’unité, par le sentiment intime de son union, et comme plongé dans l’être vivant de Dieu, par la mort à toutes choses. Et là il se sent une même vie avec Dieu, et c’est le fondement et la première qualité d’une vie contemplative. 

(…) C’est en cet amour que nous voulons brûler et nous consumer sans fin, pour l’éternité; car là se trouve la béatitude de tous les esprits. C’est pourquoi nous devons établir toute notre vie sur un abîme sans fond, afin de pouvoir éternellement nous plonger dans l’amour et nous immerger dans la profondeur insondable. Et avec le même amour nous nous élèverons et surélèverons nous-mêmes jusqu’à la hauteur incompréhensible. Nous nous égarerons dans l’amour sans mode et nous nous perdrons dans la largeur sans mesure de la divine charité. Là ce sera l’écoulement et l’immersion dans les délices inconnues de la bonté et de la richesse de Dieu. Nous serons fondus et liquéfiés, engloutis et immergés éternellement dans sa gloire.
Par toutes ces comparaisons je veux montrer au contemplatif ce qu’il est et ce qu’il pratique; mais nul autre ne saurait comprendre, car personne ne peut enseigner à ceux qui l’ignorent la vie contemplative. Dès que se révèle au contraire à l’esprit l’éternelle vérité, l’on apprend à connaître tout ce qui est utile.»ii

Des métaphores évoquant l’abîme ou l’engloutissement, ou au contraire l’incandescence et l’embrasement, peuvent paraître tout-à-fait appropriées, a priori, à l’intensité supposée d’une rencontre avec le divin.

Mais les images, si différentes, et si contraires apparemment, du ‘repos’, du ‘sommeil’ ou de la ‘nuit’, que Ruysbroeck se plaît à mobiliser, semblent nécessaires pour exprimer certains aspects inexplicables et ineffables de cette rencontre.

Il faut souligner qu’historiquement, Ruysbroeck n’est pas le seul à exploiter ce champ de métaphores. Avant lui, et bien après lui, jusqu’à nos jours, l’on peut relever l’usage de ces mêmes images chez d’autres chercheurs et chercheuses d’absolu.

Ainsi, Angèle de Foligno, mystique italienne du 13ème siècle, explique qu’elle a commencé le long voyage au bout de son « enfer », de ses « tourments » et de son « désespoir » – en « se prélassant » et en « dormant » :

« Je faisais mine d’être pauvre extérieurement et de coucher sur la dure, alors que je n’avais de cesse de me prélasser et de dormir, couchant sur des piles de couvertures qu’au matin je faisais enlever pour que personne ne les vît. Voyez le diable que j’ai en mon âme et la malice qui est en mon cœur. Écoutez bien : je suis l’hypocrisie, fille du diable. Je me nomme celle qui ment; je me nomme l’abomination de Dieu ! Je me disais fille d’oraison, j’étais fille de colère, et d’enfer et d’orgueil. Je me présentais comme ayant Dieu dans mon âme, et sa joie dans ma cellule, j’avais le diable dans ma cellule, et le diable dans mon âme. Sachez que j’ai passé ma vie à chercher une réputation de sainteté: sachez, en vérité, qu’à force de mentir et de déguiser les infamies de mon cœur, j’ai trompé des nations. Homicide, voilà mon nom ! Homicide des âmes, homicide de mon âme !»iii

Sept siècles plus tard, Emil Cioran, un écrivain roumain d’expression française, cisèle des formules où les plantes se prélassent en Dieu, et les hommes se prélassent dans l’éperdu ou dans l’être, et font même la sieste en Dieu.

« Les plantes, mieux que les bêtes, jubilent d’être créées : l’ortie même respire encore en Dieu et s’y prélasse. »iv

« Se prélasser dans l’éperdu, et, nomade abruti, se remodeler sur Dieu, cet Apatride… »v

« Celui-là seul se sauve qui sacrifie dons et talents pour que, dégagé de sa qualité d’homme, il puisse se prélasser dans l’être. »vi

« Tournés vers ce qui ne supporte pas le mot, ni ne veut y condescendre, nous nous prélassons dans un bonheur sans qualité, dans un frisson sans adjectif. Sieste en Dieu… »vii

Dans un sens entièrement différent, et même carrément polémique, Cioran utilise la même métaphore, mais apparemment à rebours :

« Imbus de leurs crises de conscience, les chrétiens, tout contents qu’un autre ait souffert pour eux, se prélassent à l’ombre du calvaire. »viii

Mais on peut lire ce passage ambigu de deux manières. Comme une fausse sécurité, ou bien comme une avancée dans la nuit.

L’ombre du calvaire n’est-elle pas en effet la nuit divine, par excellence, la nuit de l’absence absolue ? Compte tenu de l’ambivalence profonde du verbe « se prélasser », comment comprendre exactement l’expression « se prélasser à l’ombre du calvaire » ? Comme un pique-nique tranquille et gai sur le mont Golgotha ? Ou comme un exercice de ‘souveraineté sacrée’ au fond de la nuit christique ? Les deux lectures sont linguistiquement possibles. Si l’intention polémique de Cioran est patente, on peut lire, malgré elle, et malgré lui, tout autre chose.

Quoi qu’il en soit, l’emploi répété de cette expression de la langue courante, se prélasser, dans divers contextes de rencontre avec le divin, et par des auteurs séparés par de nombreux siècles, surprend. Il vaut la peine de s’arrêter un instant sur l’histoire de ce mot, pour en saisir toutes les tonalités.

Le dictionnaire en ligne du CNRTL donne à se prélasser un premier sens, ‘vieilli’: « Prendre un air grave et important. Enfin venaient les chantres et les chanoines ouvrant tous la bouche, baissant les yeux et marchant au pas, en se prélassant dignement dans leurs belles chasubles d’église (Flaub., Champs et grèves, 1848, p.299). »

Selon le Littré, l’expression se prélasser signifie : « Affecter un air de dignité, de gravité fastueuse. L’âne se prélassant marche seul devant eux ix. »

Le Dictionnaire de l’Académie française (8ème édition) donne : « Affecter un air important; prendre toutes ses aises; se laisser aller nonchalamment. Il se prélasse dans sa nouvelle dignité. Ce nouveau riche se prélasse dans une automobile de grand luxe. »

Dans sa 9ème édition, l’origine étymologique est précisée. Le mot vient de ‘prélat’, et non de ‘lasser’ ou ‘délasser’: « Se prélasser. XVIème siècle, se prélater puis se prélasser, ‘se comporter en prélat’. Dérivé de prélat, avec influence plaisante de lasser. Affecter un air important (vieilli). Il se prélasse dans sa nouvelle dignité. Dans la langue courante. Se laisser aller nonchalamment, paresseusement, prendre ses aises. Se prélasser dans son lit, sur une plage. Un chat se prélassant au soleil. »x

La gamme des sens est donc large, mais on voit poindre deux orientations, l’une digne, sacerdotale : « Affecter un air de dignité, de gravité fastueuse. Se comporter en prélat. Exercer un sacerdoce souverain. »

L’autre nettement plus relâchée : « Prendre toutes ses aises; se laisser aller nonchalamment. »

Dans quelle acception faut-il entendre l’emploi de ce mot par Cioran ? La gravité ou la nonchalance ? L’exercice de la souveraineté sacrée ou la léthargie de la paresse ?

Curieusement, la réponse n’est pas aussi aisée ou spontanée qu’elle devrait l’être. Il semble que les deux acceptions, malgré leurs divergences, conviennent également, ce qui est assez paradoxal.

C’est peut-être là que gît le commencement d’un mystère, celui de pouvoir « se prélasser » en Dieu, ou peut-être, au contraire, voir Dieu lui-même « se prélasser » en notre compagnie, — comme en témoigne là encore Angèle de Foligno :

« Je regardai Celui qui parlait, pour le voir des yeux de l’esprit et des yeux du corps ; je le vis ! Vous me demandez ce que je vis? C’était quelque chose d’absolument vrai, c’était plein de majesté, c’était immense, mais qu’était-ce? Je n’en sais rien ; c’était peut-être le souverain bien. Du moins cela me parut ainsi. Il prononça encore des paroles de douceur ; puis il s’éloigna. Son départ lui-même eut les attitudes de la miséricorde. Il ne s’en alla pas tout à coup ; il se retira lentement, majestueusement, avec une immense douceur. »xi

Linguistiquement parlant, pas de doute ! Si l’on en croit Littré et l’Académie française, Dieu quitte Angèle en « se prélassant » (c’est-à-dire en se retirant lentement, majestueusement, avec une immense douceur).

Mais cette lenteur, cette douceur, Dieu ne se la réserve pas. Il la veut aussi pour et en Angèle, sous la forme d’un « désir », d’une « faim » et d’une « langueur » :

« Je ne doutais pas, et je sentais, et je voyais que les yeux de Dieu me regardaient ; et mon âme puisa dans son regard la lumière. Qu’un saint descende du paradis, je lui porte le défi d’exprimer ma joie. Et comme il me cachait, disait-il, son amour, à cause de mon impuissance à la porter : « Si vous êtes le Dieu tout-puissant, vous pouvez me donner la force de porter votre amour. » Il répondit: « Tu aurais alors ton désir, et ta faim diminuerait. Ce que je veux, c’est ton désir, ta faim, ta langueur.»xii

Cioran, quant à lui, choisit les métaphores de la ‘mort’ et de la ‘dissolution’ pour traduire la même idée fondamentale du ‘retrait’ (de Dieu ou de l’âme) : « Nous devons, en nous forgeant une autre mort, une mort incompatible avec nos charognes, consentir à l’indémontrable, à l’idée que quelque chose existe. Le Rien était sans doute plus commode. Qu’il est malaisé de se dissoudre dans l’être. »xiii

En effet ! Qu’il est malaisé de se dissoudre dans l’être, tant l’être est « plein » de Dieu !

Angèle, encore :

« Les yeux de l’esprit furent ouverts en moi, je vis une plénitude divine où j’embrassais tout l’univers, en deçà et au delà des mers, et l’Océan, et l’abîme, et toutes choses, et je ne voyais rien nulle part que la puissance divine ; le mode de la vision était absolument inénarrable. Dans un transport d’admiration, je m’écriai : « Mais il est plein de Dieu, il est plein de Dieu, cet univers. » Aussitôt l’univers me sembla petit. Je vis la puissance de Dieu qui ne le remplissait pas seulement, mais qui débordait de tous les côtés. ‘Je t’ai montré, dit-il, quelque chose de ma puissance ; regarde mon humilité’. Je vis un abîme épouvantable de profondeur; c’était le mouvement de Dieu vers l’homme et vers toutes choses. »xiv

Repos dans l’être.

Langueur de la plénitude.

Nuit de l’abîme.

iJan van Ruysbroeck. L’Anneau ou la Pierre Brillante. Ch. 13. Œuvres. Traduction des Bénédictins de Saint Paul de Wisques, Bruxelles, Vromant, 1928, T. III, p.270

iiJan van Ruysbroeck. L’Anneau ou la Pierre Brillante. Ch.3. Œuvres. Traduction des Bénédictins de Saint Paul de Wisques, Bruxelles, Vromant, 1928, T. III,

iii Angèle de Foligno. Le livre des visions et des instructions.Traduction Ernest Hello. Ch. 19 Tentations et douleur.

ivCioran. La chute dans le temps. Œuvres. Gallimard. Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 2011, p.526

vCioran. Syllogismes de l’amertume. Œuvres. Gallimard. Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 2011, p.260

viCioran. La tentation d’exister. Penser contre. Œuvres. Gallimard. Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 2011, p.265

viiCioran. La tentation d’exister. Rages et résignations. Œuvres. Gallimard. Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 2011, p.414

viiiCioran. La tentation d’exister. Un peuple de solitaires. Œuvres. Gallimard. Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 2011, p.311

ixLa Fontaine, Fables, III,1

xLe site du CNRTL ajoute ces précisons étymologiques et historiques : «Se prélasser. 1532 réfl. «aller en prenant son temps» (Rabelais, Pantagruel, XV, 158, éd. V. L. Saulnier, p.131); 2. id. «affecter une gravité fastueuse» (Id., ibid., XX, 127, p.163). Dér. de prélat* avec infl. plais. de lasser*. Cf. prelater «exercer un sacerdoce souverain» (av. 1543 Selve, tr. Plutarque, Alcibiade, 76 rods Hug.), se prelater «se comporter en prélat» (1588 Montaigne, Essais, III, X, éd. P. Villey et V. L. Saulnier, p.1011), dér. de prélat; dés. -er; l’homon. m. fr. prelater «faire avancer, hâter» (ca 1380 Jean Lefevre, Vieille, 273 ds T.-L.) est dér. du lat. praelatus, part. passé de praeferre «porter avant, devant».

xiAngèle de Foligno. Le livre des visions et des instructions.Traduction Ernest Hello. Ch. 20 Pélerinage.

xiiAngèle de Foligno. Le livre des visions et des instructions.Traduction Ernest Hello. Ch. 21 La beauté.

xiiiCioran. La tentation d’exister. Œuvres. Gallimard. Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 2011, p.428

xivAngèle de Foligno. Le livre des visions et des instructions.Traduction Ernest Hello. Ch. 22 La puissance.

The Peregrination of the Universe

According to the Jewish Bible the world was created about 6000 years ago. According to contemporary cosmologists, the Big Bang dates back 14 billion years. But the Universe could actually be older. The Big Bang is not necessarily the only, original event. Many other universes may have existed before, in earlier ages.

Time could go back a long way. This is what Vedic cosmologies teach. Time could even go back to infinity according to cyclical universe theories.

In a famous Chinese Buddhist-inspired novel, The Peregrination to the West, there is a story of the creation of the world. It describes the formation of a mountain, and the moment « when the pure separated from the turbid ». The mountain, called the Mount of Flowers and Fruits, dominates a vast ocean. Plants and flowers never fade. « The peach tree of the immortals never ceases to form fruits, the long bamboos hold back the clouds. » This mountain is « the pillar of the sky where a thousand rivers meet ». It is « the unchanging axis of the earth through ten thousand Kalpa. »

An unchanging land for ten thousand Kalpa.

What is a kalpa? It is the Sanskrit word used to define the very long duration of cosmology. To get an idea of the duration of a kalpa, various metaphors are available. Take a 40 km cube and fill it to the brim with mustard seeds. Remove a seed every century. When the cube is empty, you will not yet be at the end of the kalpa. Then take a large rock and wipe it once a century with a quick rag. When there is nothing left of the rock, then you will not yet be at the end of the kalpa.

World time: 6000 years? 14 billion years? 10,000 kalpa?

We can assume that these times mean nothing certain. Just as space is curved, time is curved. The general relativity theory establishes that objects in the universe tend to move towards regions where time flows relatively more slowly. A cosmologist, Brian Greene, put it this way: « In a way, all objects want to age as slowly as possible. » This trend, from Einstein’s point of view, is exactly comparable to the fact that objects « fall » when dropped.

For objects in the Universe that are closer to the « singularities » of space-time that proliferate there (such as « black holes »), time is slowing down more and more. In this interpretation, it is not ten thousand kalpa that should be available, but billions of billions of billions of kalpa…

A human life is only an ultra-fugitive scintillation, a kind of femto-second on the scale of kalpa, and the life of all humanity is only a heartbeat. That’s good news! The incredible stories hidden in a kalpa, the narratives that time conceals, will never run out. The infinite of time has its own life.

Mystics, like Plotin or Pascal, have reported their visions. But their images of “fire” were never more than snapshots, infinitesimal moments, compared to the infinite substance from which they emerged.

This substance, I’d like to describe it as a landscape of infinite narratives, an infinite number of mobile points of view, opening onto an infinite number of worlds, some of which deserve a detour, and others are worth the endless journey.

What do we have to lose?

Gérard de Nerval was imbued with shamanism and orphism. With its calculated, ironic and visionary poetry, Voyage en Orient bears witness to these tropisms.

« They plunged me three times into the waters of the Cocyte » (Antéros).

The four rivers of Hell, who can cross their liquid walls? Can a pale poet cross these bitter barriers, these dark, convulsive masses?

« Et j’ai deux fois vainqueur traversé l’Achéron,

Modulant tour à tour sur la lyre d’Orphée

Les soupirs de la sainte et les cris de la fée.”

(And I have twice a winner crossed the Acheron

Modulating in turn on the lyre of Orpheus

The sighs of the saint and the cries of the fairy.) (El Desdichado)

Nerval’s work is influenced by the tutelary figure of Orpheus, prince of poets, lovers and mystics – explorer of the depths.

Orpheus was dismembered alive by the Bacchae in madness, but continued to sing from the mouth of his beheaded head. His singing had already persuaded Hades to let him leave Hell with Eurydice. The condition was that he did not look at her, until he came out of the world of the dead. Worried about the silence of the beloved, he turned his head when they had arrived at the edge of the world of the living. He lost again, and forever, Eurydice.

Instead of looking at her, he could have talked to her, held her by the hand, or inhaled her scent, to make sure she was there? No, he had to see her, to look at her. As a result, she died.

Why do heroes want to face Hell?

What haunts them is whether death is real, or imaginary. What drives them is the desire to see the loved ones again, though lost forever. In these difficult circumstances, they must acquire special powers, magical abilities. Orpheus’ strengths were music, song and poetry.

Music produces, even in Hell, a form, a meaning, and calls for the poem. Orpheus might have sung:

« Always, under the branches of Virgil’s laurel

The pale hydrangea unites with the green myrtle.  » (Myrto)

Gérard de Nerval was inspired. By what?

From the scattered crumbs, let us deduce the bread that feeds him.

« Man, free thinker! Do you think you’re the only one thinking

In this world where life is bursting into everything?


Each flower is a soul to nature blooms.

A mystery of love in metal rests.


Often in the dark being dwells a hidden God

And like a nascent eye covered by his eyelids,

A pure spirit grows under the bark of the stones.  » (Golden Worms)

The poets lose, lost, in the theological assaults. Nerval admits defeat, false hopes and real regret:

« They will return these Gods that you always cry for!

Time will bring back the order of the old days,

The earth shuddered with a prophetic breath…

However, the sibyl with its Latin face

Is asleep under the arch of Constantine

And nothing disturbed the severe gantry.  » (Delfica)

Did Nerval believe in the breath of the sibyl, in the order of the day?

Orpheus, Nerval, prophetic poets.

During the Renaissance, Marsile Ficin presented Orpheus as an explorer of Chaos and a theologian of love.

« Orpheus in Argonautics imitating the Theology of Mercury Trismegist, when he sings the principles of things in the presence of Chiron and the heroes, that is, angelic men, he puts Chaos before the world, & before Saturn, Iupiter and the other gods, and within Chaos, he welcomes Love, saying Love is very ancient, by itself perfect, of great counsel. Plato in Timaeus similarly describes Chaos, and here puts Love. »i

Chaos is before the gods, – before the very sovereign God, Jupiter. And in Chaos, there is Love!

« Finally, in all of us, Love accompanies Chaos, and precedes the world, excites the things that sleep, illuminates the dark ones: gives life to the dead things: forms the unformed, and gives perfection to the imperfect. » ii

This « good news » was first announced by Orpheus.

« But the unique invisible perpetual light of the divine Sun, by its presence, always gives comfort, life and perfection to all things. Of what divinely sang Orpheus, saying:

God the Eternal Love all things comforts

And on all of them is spread, animated and supported. »

Orpheus bequeathed to humanity these simple pearls: « Love is more ancient and younger than other Gods ». « Love is the beginning and the end. He is the first and last of the gods. »

Finally, Ficin specifies the figure of the last of all the gods: « There are therefore four kinds of divine fury. The first is the Poetic Fury. The second is the Mystical, that is, the Sacred. The third is Divination. The fourth is the Affection of Love. Poetry depends on the Muses: The Mystery of Bacchus: The Deviation of Apollo: & The Love of Venus. Certainly Soul cannot return to unity unless it becomes unique. » iii

The One. The Love. The Union. This is the message of Orpheus.

To learn it first, Orpheus had to have lost Eurydice.

To hear it, what do we have to lose?

iMarsile Ficin. Discours de l’honneste amour sur le banquet de Platon, Oraison 1ère, Ch. 2, (1578)

ii Marsile Ficin. Discours de l’honneste amour sur le banquet de Platon, Oraison 1ère, Ch. 2, (1578)

iii Ibid., Oraison 7, Ch. 14

La nuit des mages et des sages

Toute métaphore vraiment originale, toute image absolument inouïe, est une puissance, elle porte en germe une vision du monde; elle jette un regard imaginaire vers l’avant, sur le possible. Reprise, déclinée, propagée, amplifiée, elle engendrera, dans des circonstances favorables, un univers de pensée bien réel, une révolution des manières de voir.

Elle sera grosse, par exemple, d’une révolution scientifique, ou philosophique, ou encore politique. Elle permettra l’établissement d’un nouveau « récit », dont elle sera le premier symbole. Elle sera le signe initial d’un archipel en gésine, d’une pensée en puissance.

Par exemple, la métaphore teilhardienne de la « noosphère », baignant l’humanité de ses flux et de ses énergies, a des implications inimaginables, sur le plan social et politique, si on la prend au mot, comme « sphère de pensée, cosmos d’esprit ».

La métaphore du « transhumain », utilisée la première fois par Dante dans la Divine Comédie (avec le mot trasumanar) , est plus géniale encore, puisque elle pointe vers l’existence effective d’une « méta-sphère », de conscience et de vie.

La « trans-humanité » est en perpétuelle transhumance. Elle a vocation à atteindre des mondes inouïs.

Il ne faut pas confondre le « transhumain » dantesque et le «transhumanisme» moderne. Le « transhumanisme » n’a rien à voir avec la métaphore proposée par Dante, il y a plus de sept siècles. Rien de métaphysique dans le transhumanisme. On y trouve seulement l’idée que l’évolution technique et scientifique favorisera, suppose-t-on, l’apparition d’une « singularité ». Vernor Vinge, Ray Kurzweil en sont les prophètes. Cette « singularité » incarnera, disent-ils, un point de basculement vers une humanité intellectuellement et physiquement « augmentée ».

La science et la technique sont porteuses de bien des ouvertures, mais il est naïf de croire qu’elles détermineront à elles seules les conditions d’une transformation psychique et morale de l’humanité, d’un sursaut, d’un passage vers une transhumanité.

Au Paléolithique, il y a plus de quarante mille ans, quelques grottes étaient des sanctuaires écartés, secrets, profonds, fréquentés par des chamanes, dont certains étaient des artistes universels. La religion paléolithique, dont les peintures pariétales témoignent, échappe aujourd’hui encore aux analyses les mieux informées (le travail d’Alain Testart, éclairant, l’illustre bien).

Ces peintures, créées pendant une période de plus de trente mille ans, véhiculent un sens aigu de la transcendance de l’esprit, flottant de par le monde.

L’Homme de Cro-Magnon, un Homo Sapiens, était plus sage peut-être que l’homme moderne. Plus sage d’une sagesse dont le monde de notre temps n’a plus aucune idée.

L’ancien président François Hollande était-il un sage? Il n’est pas connu en tout cas pour être un spécialiste de la transcendance ou de la métaphysique. Mais, dans un discours prononcé devant une Loge franc-maçonne, il s’est risqué à quelques considérations sur le futur de l’humanité. Il a déclaré posément: « Vous avez aussi voulu penser les mutations inouïes que les nouvelles technologies du vivant nous laissent deviner : c’est ce qu’on appelle le transhumanisme ou l’homme augmenté. C’est une question redoutable : jusqu’où permettre le progrès, car le progrès ne doit pas être suspecté, nous devons le favoriser. Comment faire pour que nous puissions maîtriser ces graves questions éthiques ? Ce qui est en jeu, c’est l’idée même d’humanité, de choix, de liberté. Alors face à ces bouleversements que certains espèrent, que d’autres redoutent, le regard de la franc-maçonnerie est une boussole tout à fait précieuse dans cette période, et une lumière qui aide à saisir les enjeux et à y répondre. »

En matière de métaphores, la liberté est très grande, mais il importe de conserver un minimum de de cohérence. Comparer le « regard » à une «boussole» et à une «lumière» me paraît aventureux, malhabile et déplacé.

Le « regard » peut certes être guidé dans la direction indiquée par une «boussole», et il peut être aidé en cela par la « lumière ». Mais, à mon sens, il est bizarre, et même franchement inadéquat, d’affirmer que le «regard» pourrait être une «boussole». Ce serait comme si la charrue tirait les bœufs.

Un « regard » a-t-il vocation à créer un Nord imaginaire, un pôle conceptuel? Un coup d’œil peut-il engendrer toute la lumière de l’univers?

On pourrait évoquer la « licence » poétique… Mais un bon speech-writer ne devrait pas mettre, fût-ce par l’entremise d’une parole présidentielle, des métaphores bancales, des images pseudo-poétiques, en circulation.

C’est encore ajouter au malheur du monde, — comme dit le poète.

Non, non, ce dont nous avons urgemment besoin, ce sont de nouvelles métaphores, polaires, qui font lever au ciel la nuit, les yeux des mages et des sages.

The Perfumes of the One

At the beginning of our ‘Common Era’, several « discourses » about the “One” were competing: there was the Jewish “One”, the Greek “One”, the Christian “One”, and possibly a fourth “One”, « that we could call mystical », says Alain Badioui.

What is the Jewish “One”? It is the “One” of the prophet, who demands for signs. It is « a discourse of exception, because the prophetic sign, the miracle, the election, designate transcendence as being beyond the natural totality ».ii

What is the Greek “One”? It is the “One” of the wise, who appropriates « the fixed order of the world », and matches the logos to the being. It is a « cosmic discourse » that places the subject in « the reason of a natural totality ».iii

The Jewish and the Greek discourses on the “One” seem to be in opposition.

“The Greek discourse argues for the cosmic order to adjust to it, while the Jewish discourse argues for the exception to this order to signal divine transcendence.”iv

But in reality, one also could say that they are « two sides of the same mastery figure », says Badiou. This is Paul’s « deep idea ». « In the eyes of the Jew Paul, the weakness of Jewish discourse is that the logic of the exceptional sign applies only to the Greek cosmic totality. The Jew is an exception to the Greek. The first result is that neither of the two discourses can be universal, since each assumes the persistence of the other. And secondly, both discourses have in common the assumption that we are given in the universe the key to salvation, either by direct mastery of the totality (Greek wisdom) or by mastery of the literal tradition and decoding of the signs (Jewish ritualism and prophetism). »v

Neither Greek nor Jewish discourse is « universal ». One is reserved for the « wise », the other for the « chosen ». Paul’s project is to « show that a universal logic of salvation cannot be accommodated by any law, neither that which links thought to the cosmos, nor that which regulates the effects of an exceptional election. It is impossible that the starting point should be the Whole, but just as impossible that it should be an exception to the Whole. Neither the whole nor the sign can be appropriate. We must start from the event itself, which is a-cosmic and illegal, and does not integrate into any totality and is not a sign of anything. »

Paul cuts short. He just starts from the event, unique, improbable, unheard of, incredible, incredible, never seen before. This sole event has nothing to do with the law, and nothing to do with wisdom. What it introduces into the world is absolutely new.

Paul breaks the discourse, the secular and the millennium.

« Therefore it is written: ‘I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and I will destroy the understanding of the intelligent’. Where is the wise man? Where is the scribe? Where’s the fighter of the century? (…) But God chose the foolish things of the world to confuse the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to confuse the strong; God chose the vile things of the world and the most despised, those who are not, to destroy those who are.  » (1 Cor. 1, 17 sq.)

It cannot be denied that Paul’s words are revolutionary, « scandalous » for some, « crazy » for others, undoubtedly subversive.

And then comes the fourth “One”, the mystical “One”. The allusion in Paul is as brief as lightning, veiled, lapidary: « I know a man (…) who heard ineffable words that a man is not allowed to express. » (2 Cor. 12, 1-6)

The ineffable is a brother to the inaudible.

Plutarch reports that there was a statue of Zeus without ears in Crete. « It is not fitting for the sovereign Lord of all things to learn anything from any man, » explains the Greek historian.

The One has no ears. Does he have eyes, a tongue, a nose?

Badiou provides four answers to this question. Two of them are not universal. The third is, because it includes (among others) the mad, the weak, the vile and the despised.

About the fourth One, one can’t say anything.

A special point of view would be to make theses four visions compatible, to connect together these specific opinions, finding their possible hidden coherence.

This ‘special’ point of view could also be the point of view of the One.

How to represent this Unique Point of View?

Maybe we need to change our metaphor, to change vision for smell, colors for fragrances, contemplation for breathing.

The subtle scents of the divine aromas, the sacred perfume elaborated by Egyptian priests gives an idea of it.

This antique perfume, called Kyphi, was composed of sixteen substances: honey, wine, raisins, souchet, resin, myrrh, rosewood, seseli, lentisk, bitumen, fragrant rush, patience, small and large juniper, cardamom, calami.

There were other recipes, which can be found in Galen, Dioscorides, Edfu’s text or Philae’s text.

Effluences. Emanations. Inspiration. Let’s exhale.

Baudelaire takes us further on this path:

« Reader, have you ever breathed

With intoxication and slow greed

That grain of incense that fills a church,

Or a bag of musk?

Deep charm, magical, with which we are ebriated

In the present by the restored past!

So the lover on a beloved body

Remembrance picks the exquisite flower. »

A Mystique of past flowers, and future fruits.

iAlain Badiou. Saint Paul. La fondation de l’universalisme..PUF , 2014





The Egyptian Messiah

Human chains transmit knowledge acquired beyond the ages. From one to the other, you always go up higher, as far as possible, like the salmon in the stream.

Thanks to Clement of Alexandria, in the 2nd century, twenty-two fragments of Heraclitus (fragments 14 to 36 according to the numbering of Diels-Kranz) were saved from oblivion, out of a total of one hundred and thirty-eight.

« Rangers in the night, the Magi, the priests of Bakkhos, the priestesses of the presses, the traffickers of mysteries practiced among men.  » (Fragment 14)

A few words, and a world appears.

At night, magic, bacchae, lenes, mysts, and of course the god Bakkhos.

The Fragment 15 describes one of these mysterious and nocturnal ceremonies: « For if it were not in honour of Dionysus that they processioned and sang the shameful phallic anthem, they would act in the most blatant way. But it’s the same one, Hades or Dionysus, for whom we’re crazy or delirious.»

Heraclitus seems reserved about bacchic delusions and orgiastic tributes to the phallus.

He sees a link between madness, delirium, Hades and Dionysus.

Bacchus is associated with drunkenness. We remember the rubicond Bacchus, bombing under the vine.

Bacchus, the Latin name of the Greek god Bakkhos, is also Dionysus, whom Heraclitus likens to Hades, God of the Infernos, God of the Dead.

Dionysus was also closely associated with Osiris, according to Herodotus in the 5th century BC. Plutarch went to study the question on the spot, 600 years later, and reported that the Egyptian priests gave the Nile the name of Osiris, and the sea the name of Typhon. Osiris is the principle of the wet, of generation, which is compatible with the phallic cult. Typhoon is the principle of dry and hot, and by metonymy of the desert and the sea. And Typhon is also the other name of Seth, Osiris’ murdering brother, whom he cut into pieces.

We see here that the names of the gods circulate between distant spheres of meaning.

This implies that they can also be interpreted as the denominations of abstract concepts.

Plutarch, who cites in his book Isis and Osiris references from an even more oriental horizon, such as Zoroaster, Ormuzd, Ariman or Mitra, testifies to this mechanism of anagogical abstraction, which the ancient Avestic and Vedic religions practiced abundantly.

Zoroaster had been the initiator. In Zoroastrianism, the names of the gods embody ideas, abstractions. The Greeks were the students of the Chaldeans and the ancient Persians. Plutarch condenses several centuries of Greek thought, in a way that evokes Zoroastrian pairs of principles: « Anaxagoras calls Intelligence the principle of good, and that of evil, Infinite. Aristotle names the first the form, and the other the deprivationi. Plato, who often expresses himself as if in an enveloped and veiled manner, gives to these two contrary principles, to one the name of « always the same » and to the other, that of « sometimes one, sometimes the other ». »ii

Plutarch is not fooled by Greek, Egyptian or Persian myths. He knows that they cover abstract, and perhaps more universal, truths. But he had to be content with allusions of this kind: « In their sacred hymns in honour of Osiris, the Egyptians mentioned « He who hides in the arms of the Sun ». »

As for Typhon, a deicide and fratricide, Hermes emasculated him, and took his nerves to make them the strings of his lyre. Myth or abstraction?

Plutarch uses the etymology (real or imagined) as an ancient method to convey his ideas: « As for the name Osiris, it comes from the association of two words: ὄσιοϛ, holy and ἱερός, sacred. There is indeed a common relationship between the things in Heaven and those in Hades. The elders called them saints first, and sacred the second. »iii

Osiris, in his very name, osios-hieros, unites Heaven and Hell, he combines the holy and the sacred.

The sacred is what is separated.

The saint is what unites us.

Osiris joint separated him to what is united.

Osiris, victor of death, unites the most separated worlds there are. It represents the figure of the Savior, – in Hebrew the « Messiah ».

Taking into account the anteriority, the Hebrew Messiah and the Christian Christ are late figures of Osiris.

Osiris, a Christic metaphor, by anticipation? Or Christ, a distant Osirian reminiscence?

Or a joint participation in a common fund, an immemorial one?

This is a Mystery.

iAristotle, Metaph. 1,5 ; 1,7-8

iiPlato Timaeus 35a

iiiPlutarch, Isis and Osiris.

De la Mystique Quantique et de la Mort d’Empédocle

Ce n’est pas parce que le mystique n’a rien à dire qu’il se tait. Il se tait parce qu’il sait qu’il a beaucoup à dire, et qu’il ne sait pas comment le dire, tant son expérience le « dépasse ».

L’ineffabilité de l’expérience et le silence de l’expérimentateur ne sont pas de même nature.

Comment parler de l’ineffable ?

La réalité du monde est déjà, à l’évidence, ineffable. Comment la dire ?

L’âme paraît plus ineffable encore… Qu’en dire ?

Alors, qui dira ce qui les dépasse absolument, et les transcende infiniment?

Un certain Parménide s’est fait jadis une réputation durable en identifiant (philosophiquement) la pensée à l’être.

Mais la pensée, rétorquerons-nous, n’est pas en mesure de concevoir la nature de ce qui lui échappe, par nature. Et l’être (pris dans toute sa totalité) n’est certes pas de même nature que la pensée, dont l’être (ou l’essence) n’est que l’une des modalités de l’être.

Pour le dire en style biblique : il y a de nombreuses demeures dans la maison de l’être.

La pensée (consciente) n’habite que l’une des nombreuses « demeures » de l’être, et la « maison » de l’être elle-même est bien plus vaste que tous les rêves pensés, et bien plus haute que ses plus profonds sommeils.

Les deux métaphores de la « demeure » et de la « maison », dans le passage de Jean qui les a rendues célèbres, loin d’asseoir notre mental, de lui donner une sorte d’assurance (foncière), de certitude (immobilière), d’ancrage dans un « lieu » (sédentaire), introduisent immédiatement dans le texte original un ballet tournoyant de mouvements, une valse d’images mobiles, mêlant « départ », « aller », « retour », « chemin », et « passage » :

« Dans la maison de mon Père, il y a beaucoup de demeures ; sinon, est-ce que je vous aurais dit : ‘Je pars vous préparer une place’ ? Quand je serai allé vous la préparer, je reviendrai vous prendre avec moi ; et là où je suis, vous y serez aussi. Pour aller où je m’en vais, vous savez le chemin. » Thomas lui dit : « Seigneur, nous ne savons même pas où tu vas ; comment pourrions-nous savoir le chemin ? » Jésus lui répond : « Moi, je suis le chemin, la vérité et la vie ; personne ne va vers le Père sans passer par moi. »i

Si Jésus est le « chemin », on est en droit de demander où sont alors les « demeures » de l’être et de la pensée ?

Et, désormais pénétrés de la dialectique de l’Évangile johannique, on pourrait aussi légitimement demander si ces « demeures » ne sont pas plutôt le « chemin » lui-même, ou la « vérité », ou encore la « vie » même – et réciproquement, si « chemin », « vérité » et « vie » ne sont pas nos mouvantes, véritables et vivantes « demeures »?

On voit ici que les métaphores, philosophiques ou théologiques, du « lieu », de la « maison », ou de la « demeure », créent instantanément dans l’esprit les idées, nécessairement duales, de « mouvement », de « déplacement », de « cheminement ».

De cela, l’on déduira qu’un « lieu » (en latin locus, en grec topos) habité par la pensée biblique (ou par la conscience spirituelle) renvoie illico à la nécessité (métaphorique) d’un « départ » (subreptice), d’un « exode » (« hors d’Égypte »), d’un « passage » (de la « Mer rouge »), ou d’une « fuite » (« en Égypte »)…

Dans les mondes psychiques, un lieu crée un mouvement; le locus engendre le motus; le topos génère le tropos

Ces métaphores sont intrinsèquement « intriquées ». On ne peut concevoir les unes sans les autres. Elles se propagent dès lors, liées en groupe, dans l’esprit, et révèlent par là une propriété fondamentale du monde psychique : la solidarité et l’unité fusionnelle de tous les phénomènes qu’il fait naître.

Pour donner une analogie de la ‘mécanique’ de ce monde psychique, de ce monde de métaphores vivantes, on dira qu’elle semble être ‘quantique’ : le dualisme des « tropes » est formellement analogue aux dualités onde/corpuscule ou position/quantité de mouvement de la mécanique quantique…

De cela, l’on déduira aussi que les « lieux » que sont le « monde », ou le «Cosmos» tout entier, ou encore « l’être » ou « l’âme » de l’homme, ne sont pas simplement des « lieux », mais sont aussi, nécessairement, des « chemins », des « vérités », des « vies ».

De cela, l’on pourra encore conclure que l’on est en droit de comparer la nature des « lieux » et des « cheminements » que sont (métaphoriquement) le monde (le Cosmos) et l’homme (l’Anthropos), avec la nature des « lieux » et des « chemins » de l’Être divin (le Theos).

D’où la question : d’un tel « Être divin », quel est le « Lieu » ? Quel est le « Chemin » ?

Que peut-on réellement dire de ce « Lieu », de ce « Chemin », du point de vue cosmique et anthropique, et en vertu de quelle connaissance ?

Que ce « Lieu » est celui du « Très-Haut », puisqu’on le nomme Elyon ou Elohim ? Et donc que ce « Lieu » n’est pas celui d’un « Très-Bas », d’un « Très-Humble »?

Que ce « Chemin » est celui qui transcende toutes les voies, toutes les voix, comme l’indique le nom imprononçable YHVH ?

Que ce « Lieu » n’est présent que dans sa « Présence », sa Shekinah seule?

Que ce « Lieu » vit dans la permanence incarnée des 600.000 lettres de sa Torah ?

Que ce « Chemin » vit et fourmille de l’innombrable mobilité, de l’infinie voix des commentaires auxquels la Loi donne « lieu » ?

Toutes ces métaphores sont juives.

Les chrétiens en ont d’autres, un peu analogues :

Le « Lieu » est à l’Origine, au Commencement. Il est le «Verbe» du Dieu créateur (le « Père »).

Le « Chemin » est celui de son « Esprit » (le « Vent » de Dieu qui souffle où il veut), et celui de son Logos, ou encore celui de son « Incarnation » dans le Monde, celui de Son « Fils ».

De toutes ces images, théologico-poétiques, on retiendra que la Vie (de l’esprit) est bien plus large, bien plus haute, bien plus profonde que la Réalité. On en induira que la Vie n’est certes pas « dans » la Réalité. C’est bien plutôt la Réalité qui est en quelque sorte « dans » la Vie.

La Vie dépasse de tous les côtés ce que l’on appelle la Pensée, la Conscience ou la Connaissance, dont il faut voir l’impuissante inadéquation à rendre compte de ce qui les dépasse, et l’incapacité à appréhender effectivement la Totalité de ce qui leur échappe.

Il faut prendre toute la « mesure » des écarts (a priori in-comblables) entre Vie, Réalité, Conscience et Pensée, non pour s’en désoler, mais pour situer ces concepts à leur vraie place, les assigner à leurs « lieux » propres.

C’est seulement alors, quand la Vie, la Réalité, la Conscience et la Pensée occupent respectivement leurs « lieux » essentiels, que l’on peut commencer de rêver des voies autres, de tenter de nouveaux « exodes », de « cheminer » par l’esprit hors de ces « lieux ».

Quelles autres voies seraient-elles alors possibles? Quels nouveaux exodes impensables, ou seulement encore impensés?

Une telle voie serait-elle « l’expérience mystique » d’un chacun, par exemple, un passage renouvelé, démocratisé, de la « Mer rouge », loin des pharaons du réel ?

Peut-être. Mais aussitôt les maîtres à penser nous mettent en garde : l’expérience mystique, disent ceux qui en parlent philosophiquement (mais pas toujours en connaissance de cause), est certainement une « expérience », mais ajoutent-ils, sûrs d’eux-mêmes, assertoriques, « ce n’est pas une connaissance »ii.

On reste libre cependant d’imaginer qu’une expérience (mystique) des confins des mondes et de leurs au-delà, des hauteurs indicibles, du divin même, possède intrinsèquement quelque forme de connaissance, parfaitement réelle, irréfutable.

Certes, une telle « forme de connaissance » ne serait pas une connaissance formelle ou formulable, mais ce serait une connaissance tout de même, et en tout cas largement supérieure au babil sans fin des fats, et aux rodomontades des cuistres et des arrogants.

L’expérience (mystique) aux limites est d’abord une expérience des limites de toute connaissance, et donc, en tant que telle, c’est une connaissance claire, nette, de ce qui dans toute connaissance, quelle qu’elle soit, est foncièrement limitée, et donc intrinsèquement surpassable.

Ce premier résultat est déjà en soi une excellente entrée en matière, dans les sentiers difficultueux que nous devons emprunter…

Mais il est loin d’être acquis… Raimon Panikkar, pour sa part, préfère cloisonner radicalement l’expérience, la réalité, la conscience et la « mystique » :

« J’ai dit que l’expérience n’a pas d’intermédiaires et nous met en contact immédiat avec la réalité, mais au moment où nous devenons conscient de cette expérience, de telle sorte que nous pouvons en parler, alors nous entrons dans le champ de la conscience, et nous abandonnons la mystique. »iii

Contre ce point de vue, je voudrais affirmer que la séparation dichotomique entre « conscience » et « mystique » est arbitraire, et à mon avis injustifiée, du point de vue du bénéficiaire de l’expérience mystique elle-même.

L’expérience mystique est bien une « expérience », mais sui generis, hors de tout repère réel, hors de tout « contact immédiat avec la réalité ».

Au moment où l’expérimentateur (mystique) devient « conscient » de cette expérience, on ne peut pas dire qu’il entre alors « dans le champ de la conscience », comme le suggère Panikkar.

En effet, il est alors « conscient » de son expérience ineffable, mais il est aussi « conscient » que cette expérience est et restera ineffable. Il est « conscient » qu’elle est d’ailleurs seulement en train de commencer, et que le voyage qui s’annonce sera périlleux, – et peut-être même sans retour (dans la « conscience »).

Au moment où l’expérience (mystique) commence, la conscience de ce commencement commence. Mais on ne peut pas appeler cela une simple «entrée dans le champ de la conscience ».

L’expérience ne fait en effet que seulement « commencer ». C’est le point zéro. Il reste à affronter l’infini, c’est une longue route, et on ne le sait pas encore. L’expérience va encore durer longtemps (toute une nuit, par exemple) et pendant tout ce temps, la conscience de l’expérimentateur sera totalement submergée par des flots, des océans, des galaxies liquides, puis des ultra-cieux et des méta-mondes.

Jamais il ne reprend pied, dans cette noyade par le haut, dans cette brûlure immense de l’âme, dans cette sublimation de l’être.

Mais à aucun moment, il ne peut se dire à lui-même qu’il entre alors, simplement, « dans le champ de la conscience ».

Tout ce qu’il peut dire, à la rigueur, c’est qu’il entre dans le champ de la conscience de son ineffable inconscience (métaphysique, absolue, et dont il ne sait absolument pas où elle va le mener).

Il est certes nominalement « conscient » (ou plutôt « non totalement inconscient »), et à partir de cette conscience nominale, minimale, il voit qu’il est en réalité presque totalement réduit à l’inconscience fusionnelle avec des forces qui le dépassent, l’écrasent, l’élèvent, le transcendent, et l’illuminent.

Contrairement à ce qu’affirme Panikkar, il est donc possible pour le mystique de se trouver dans un état paradoxal où se mêlent intimement et simultanément, quoique avec des proportions variées, l’« expérience » (mystique ), la « conscience » (de cette expérience), la « réalité » (qui les « contient » toutes les deux) et l’« inconscient » (qui les « dépasse » toutes les trois).

Cet état si particulier, si exceptionnel, on peut l’appeler la « découverte de l’état originel du Soi ».

Le « Soi » : C.G. Jung en a beaucoup parlé. La tradition védique l’appelle ātman.

Une célèbre Upaniṣad dit à propos du « Soi » qu’il est « le connaisseur de tout, le maître intérieur, l’origine et la fin des êtres » et précise ainsi sa paradoxale essence:

« Ne connaissant ce qui est intérieur, ni connaissant ce qui est extérieur, ni connaissant l’un et l’autre ensemble, ni connaissant leur totalité compacte, ni connaissant ni non-connaissant, ni visible ni inapprochable, insaisissable, indéfinissable, impensable, innommable, essence de la connaissance de l’unique Soi, ce en quoi le monde se fond, en paix, bienveillant, unifié, on l’appelle Turīya [le ‘Quatrième’]. C’est lui, le Soi, qu’il faut percevoir. »iv

Pourquoi l’appelle-t-on le « Quatrième » ? Parce que cet état vient après le « premier » qui correspond à l’état de veille, après le « deuxième » qui définit l’état de rêve, et après le « troisième » qui désigne l’état de sommeil profond.

Mais comment diable peut-on savoir tout cela, toutes ces choses incroyables, tous ces mystères supérieurs, et les exposer ainsi, sans fards, au public ?

En fait rien n’est vraiment dit, assené. Tout est plutôt non-dit, tout ce qui est dit est présenté d’abord comme une négation. Rien n’est expliqué. Il nous reste à faire le principal du cheminement, et à comprendre de nous-mêmes. Tout repose sur la possible convergence de ce qui est « dit » (on plutôt « non dit ») avec l’intuition et la compréhension intérieure de « celui qui a des oreilles pour entendre ».

Entre des « univers » si éloignés, des « réalités » si difficilement compatibles (la veille, le rêve, le sommeil profond, le Soi), l’humble « conscience » est l’entité médiatrice à qui l’on peut tenter de se fier, pour établir la condition de ce cheminement, de cet entendement.

Mais l’expérience mystique, on l’a vu, a beaucoup de mal à se laisser réduire au champ étroit de « l’humble conscience ». L’« humble conscience » (en tant que sujet actif du champ de conscience de l’individu) ne peut recevoir que quelques rayons de ce soleil éruptif, aveuglant, et fort peu de son énergie outre-humaine, tant une irradiation pleine et totale lui serait fatale.

L’expérience mystique montre surtout, de façon incandescente, que l’Être, pour sa plus grande part, et dans son essence, n’est pas intelligible. Elle disperse et vaporise la pensée humaine, en myriades d’images sublimées, comme un peu d’eau jetée dans la fournaise du volcan.

Dans le cratère de la fusion mystique, des pans inimaginables de la Totalité bouillonnent et échappent (presque totalement) à la conscience humaine, écrasée par son insignifiance.

Empédocle, pour découvrir ces amères et brûlantes vérités, paya de sa vie. Suicide philosophique ? Transe extatique ? Fureur gnostique ?

Il est cependant fort probable qu’Empédocle ne soit pas mort en vain, et que d’infimes particules infra-quantiques, transportant quelque infinitésimale portion de sa conscience, ont jailli pour toujours, au moment où elle s’illumina dans la lave de l’Etna.

Il est vraisembable qu’elles continuent, aujourd’hui et demain, de voyager vers les confins.

Une âme vive, aux ailes ardemment séraphiques, mue ou motivée par des chérubins, pourrait même, le cas échéant, se lancer à leur poursuite.

iJn 14, 2-6

iiCf. par exemple : « The mystical is certainly also an experience, but it is not knowledge. » Raimon Panikkar. The Rythm of Being. The Unbroken Trinity. Ed. Orbis Books. NY. 2013, p. 247

iiiRaimon Panikkar. The Rythm of Being. The Unbroken Trinity. Ed. Orbis Books. NY. 2013, p. 247

ivMaU 7. Trad. Alyette Degrâces (modifiée), Ed. Fayard, 2014, p.507-508.

Ancient Iran’s influence on Judaism

Henry Corbin wrote more than fifty years ago a vibrant tribute to the spirituality and philosophy of Iranian Islam, considered in its historical depth. The Ayatollah regime was not in place at the time. Taking a certain distance from the immediate history, Corbin analyses the difference between Iranian shî’ism and sunnism which generally prevails in Arab countries, in a book dedicated to Sohravardî and the Platonicians of Persia.

« Unlike the majority Sunni Islam, for which, after the mission of the last Prophet, humanity has nothing new to expect, the shî’ism keeps the future open by professing that, even after the coming of the « Seal of the Prophets » something is still to be expected, namely the revelation of the spiritual meaning of the revelations made by the great prophets. (…) But this spiritual intelligence will only be complete at the end of our Aiôn, during the parousia of the twelfth Imâm, the Imâm now hidden and mystical pole of the world. »i

Corbin also reviews the exceptional adventure of a « brilliant young thinker » from northwestern Iran, Shihâboddîn Yahyâ Sohrawardî.

This « brilliant thinker », who died in 1191 in Aleppo, Syria, at the age of thirty-six, as a martyr of his cause, had dedicated his young life to « resurrecting the wisdom of ancient Persia » and « repatriating the Hellenized Magi to Islamic Persia, and this thanks to hermeneutics (ta’wil) whose Islamic spirituality offered him the resources. »ii

Corbin’s works shed light on the ancient pendulum movement between East and West, and their intersecting influences over the centuries.

Sohrawardî wanted to celebrate the wisdom of the Hellenized Magi in Islamic Persia. What this Chaldaic Magic refers to? Greek Philosophy?

In any case, Sohrawardî was taking a certain risk, considering the context of his time. But he was also a visionary, from the point of view of the long history.

And Sohravardî paid for his vision with his life.

More than a millennium earlier, the Jewish, Essenian, Qumran sects had recognized their spiritual debt to Iran.

Almost intact texts, the Qumran manuscripts, have been found in caves near the Dead Sea between 1947 and 1956.

Drawing on the texts of Qumran, Guy G. Stroumsa, a Jerusalem-based researcher, raises the question of the influence of Iranian spirituality on Judaism in his book Barbarian Philosophy.

He reports on the words of the famous religious scholar Shaul Shaked: « It may be imagined that contacts between Jews and Iranians helped in formulating a Jewish theology which, though continuing traditional Jewish motifs, came to resemble fairly closely the Iranian view of the world.»iii

It seems to me fruitful, in our troubled, fanatical, over-informed and under-educated times, to recognize the richness of the cross-fertilization accumulated over the centuries, which has structured the spiritual geography of this immense area, ranging from the Greek West to the « near » and « middle » East, via Egypt and Israel.

iH. Corbin, En islam iranien, p. III.

ii Ibid. p.IV

iiiS. Shaked, Qumran and Iran : Further considerations (1972).