Kinds of Prophets

« Isaiah » – Michelangelo

Prophets can be grouped into three categories, admittedly. There are those who see with their eyes, such as Abraham who saw three men under the oak tree of Mamre. There are those who see by the spirit, like Isaiah. And there are those who see neither with the eyes nor with images or figures, but with pure intuition of the spirit (intuitio). Thus Daniel intuitively contemplated, by the sole force of his intellect, what Baltassar had seen in his dream, and was able to interpret it. ii

Maimonides reduces these three groups to one, and draws a general lesson from it. « Know that the three verbs raâ, hibbît and ‘hazà apply to the sight of the eye; but all three are used metaphorically for the perception of intelligence. (…) It is in this metaphorical sense that the verb raa must be taken whenever it is applied to God, as for example in the following passages: ‘I saw the LORD’ (1 Kings 22:19); ‘and the LORD showed himself to him’ (Gen. (Gen. 18:1); ‘And God saw that it was good’ (Gen. 1, passim); ‘Let me see your glory’ (Ex. 33:18); ‘And they saw the God of Israel’ (Ex. 24:10). This is everywhere an intellectual perception, not the sight of the eye.» iii

According to Maimonides, all « visions » must be understood as operations of intelligence.

But this rationalist approach does not account for all cases of observed « prophecies ».

Other commentators offer a more detailed analysis, such as Isidore of Sevilleiv, who distinguish seven kinds of prophecies.

The first is ecstasy (ekstasis). It is a temporary passage of the mind into an afterlife. Thus the ecstasy of Peter. « He saw the sky open, and an object like a great tablecloth tied at the four corners, descending and lowering itself to the earth, where all the quadrupeds and the reptiles of the earth and the birds of the sky were.» v

This ecstasy consists of three moments: an exit out of the body, the sight of an (extraordinary) phenomenon in the heights, followed by a descent, a lowering and a return to earth.

The second is vision (visio). Isaiah tells: « In the year of the death of King Uzziah I saw the Lord sitting on a great and high throne. His train filled the sanctuary. Seraphim stood above him, each with six wings, two to cover his feet, two to cover his face, and two to fly. They shouted to one another, « Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts, his glory fills the whole earth.» vi

Unlike ecstasy, which is an elevation followed by a descent, the vision stands entirely in the heights. Another difference: ecstasy is precise, detailed. Peter perceives all the animals of the earth and the sky (but not those of the sea). In contrast, Isaiah’s vision is partial, more veiled. He sees the « sanctuary », filled by God’s « train ». The Hebrew text uses the word Hekal, הֵיכָל. The Hekal is the part of the temple that stands before the « Holy of Holies », the Debir, דְּבִיר, – which is the most sacred, most inaccessible place. So Isaiah sees the sanctuary, but not the Holy of Holies, which remains veiled by the « train » (שׁוּלׇ), the bottom of God’s garment. He also sees seraphim, but only partially, since two pairs of their wings cover their faces and feet. Isaiah’s vision is partly incomplete.

Vision is superior to ecstasy in that it « sees » in the heights certain aspects of the divinity, but it also encounters various obstacles, veils that cover other layers of mystery.

The third kind of prophecy mobilizes the dream (somnium). Jacob saw in the dream: « Behold, a ladder was set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven, and angels of God ascended and descended on it! Behold, Yahweh stood before him and said, ‘I am Yahweh, the God of Abraham, your ancestor and the God of Isaac.» vii

Jacob’s dream combines the ascent and descent, as in ecstasy, and adds a divine vision, in which the Lord calls himself and speaks. He makes a solemn promise and a covenant: « I am with you, I will keep you wherever you go. » viii

All this could impress anyone. But Jacob is a cautious man. He saw Yahweh in a dream, and the LORD spoke to him, and made him mirthful promises. But it was only a dream after all. The next day, when Jacob woke up, he made a vow: « If God is with me and keeps me on the road where I am going, if he gives me bread to eat and clothes to wear, if I return safely to my father’s house, then the LORD will be my God. » ix

The dream after all is only a dream. Nothing can replace true reality. Jacob waits to see, in order to believe in his dream, the fulfillment of promises: bread, clothes, a safe journey. The vision of the dream is veiled too, from the veil of doubt, the doubt of the dreamer.

The fourth kind of prophecy is not direct either, it is perceived through still other veils: fire, a cloud or a storm.

One reads: « And the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire from the midst of a bush. Moses looked, and the bush was ablaze but not consumed. » x

One also reads: « I will come to you in the thickness of the cloud, so that the people will hear when I speak with you and believe in you forever. » xi

Or: « And the LORD answered Job out of the midst of the storm, and said… » xii

Here again, the vision is somehow mixed, confused. The vision is made against the background of a phenomenon of nature with which it hybridizes.

The fifth kind of prophecy is not a vision but a voice, – coming from heaven. « The angel of Yahweh called it from heaven and said, ‘Abraham! He answered, ‘Here I am. xiii

Abraham hears the voice of God distinctly, at a particularly dramatic moment: « Do not stretch out your hand against the child! Do no harm to him! I know now that you fear God: you did not deny me your son, your only one. » xiv

If the ear undoubtedly hears, the vision remains earthly. At the sound of God’s voice, Abraham raises his eyes and sees a ram whose horns have been caught in a bush.

A similar phenomenon took place on the road to Damascus, with different effects. « Falling to the ground, he heard a voice saying to him, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? xv

There is the voice but not the image. « His companions on the road had stopped, mute in amazement: they heard the voice, but saw no one. » xvi

Deeper, this voice that we do not see, – this (non-)vision, blind. « Saul rose from the ground, but although his eyes were open, he saw nothing. He was led by the hand back to Damascus. For three days he was blind, eating and drinking nothing. » xvii

The sixth kind of prophecy is purely intellectual. It is the one that happened to Solomon composing his Proverbs.

The seventh kind of prophecy sums them all up. It consists in being fulfilled by the Holy Spirit (repletio). It is common to all prophets, for it is the very condition of their prophecy.

These various kinds of prophecies all have another thing in common, which is that they are always in some way, for one reason or another, veiled.

Maimonides made a comment on this subject, which may help to become aware of the inevitability of the veil. « It is frequently found in the Midrashoth and Haggadoth of the Talmud [this assertion] that among the prophets there are some who saw God behind many veils, others through a few, depending on how close they were to the divinity and on the rank of the prophets, so that [the Doctors of the Law] have said that Moses, our Master, saw God behind a single veil that was shining, that is, transparent, according to this word (Yebamot 49b): « He (Moses) contemplated God [as] through a mirror illuminating the eyes », ispaklaria (=speculare) being [in Latin] the name of the mirror, made of a transparent body, like glass and crystal. » xviii

Maimonides adds that the prophet Isaiahxix said that the sins and vices of man are « veils » that come between man and God. This is why, according to the doctors of the law, « prophetic inspiration is given only to a wise, strong and rich man » (Shabbat 92a).

But, Maimonides also tempers, « the prophet need not necessarily possess all the moral qualities, so that no vice can befall him, since Solomon was a prophet in the witness of Scripture. ‘At Gibeon the Lord appeared to Solomon’ (Kings 3:5), but we know of a moral defect, a passion for a certain thing: the great number of women. » xx

He also points to the negative examples of David, « who shed much blood » (Chron. 28:3), and Elijah, who was prone to anger and fanaticism.

What can be said is that the more the prophet is afflicted with nonconforming moral dispositions, the more the number of veils between him and God increases. But there are also structural limits, inherent in man’s intelligence.

Even to Moses, there remained « a single transparent veil that prevented him from attaining the real knowledge of the divine essence: human intelligence ». xxi

Even Moses still had a veil…

But could any man still live, if stripped of all veils, in the cruellest nudity?

A document was read at the Nuremberg trial, the deposition of the German engineer Graede, an eyewitness to the massacre of several thousand Jews near Dubno in October 1942. « Men, women and children of all ages were undressed before the eyes of the SS, who walked among them with a whip or whip in their hands. They would then place their clothes in the place that was indicated to them, pieces of clothing on one side, shoes on the other. Without shouting or crying, all these naked people grouped themselves into families. After kissing each other and saying goodbye, they waited for the sign of the S.S. who was standing at the edge of the pit, also with a whip in his hand. I stayed about fifteen minutes with one of them, and I did not hear anyone complaining or asking for mercy… I saw a whole family: a man and a woman of about fifty years old, with their children of eight and nine years old, and two tall girls in their twenties. A white-haired woman was holding a one-year-old child in her arms, singing a song to him and tickling him…: the child laughed, the father and mother looked at their child with tears in their eyes. The father of a ten year old child held his hand and spoke softly to him; the child tried not to cry; the father pointed to the sky, stroked his hair; he seemed to be explaining something to him. » xxii

The father pointed to the sky, stroking his child’s hair. He really was explaining something to him.


iMc 9.4

iiDan. 2, 26-28

iiiMoses Maimonides. The Guide of the Lost. Ed. Verdier, 1979, p.35.

ivEtymologies, VII, viii, 33-37

vActs 10,11-12

viIs. 6,1-3

viiGen. 28, 12-13

viiiGen. 28.15

ixGen. 28, 20-21

xEx. 3, 2

xie.g. 19.9

xiiJob 38.1

xiiiGen. 22, 11

xivGen. 22.12

xvActs 9, 4

xviActs 9, 7

xviiActs 9, 8-9

xviiiMoses Maimonides. Treatise on the eight chapters. Verdier, 1979, p. 667.

xixIs. 59.2

xxMoses Maimonides. Treatise on the eight chapters. Verdier, 1979, p.668.

xxiIbid. p.670

xxiiLe Monde, issue of January 3, 1946. Cited in Jules Isaac, Jésus et Israël, Ed. Fasquelle, 1959, reprinted 1987, p.527.

The Original Language

« Gershom Scholem, circa 1970 »

According to Gershom Scholem: « Hebrew is the original language »i. For the sake of a sound debate, one could perhaps argue that Sanskrit, the « perfect » language (according to the Veda), was formed several millennia before Hebrew began to incarnate the word of God. However, such historical and linguistic arguments may have no bearing on the zealots of the « sacred language », the language that God Himself is supposed to have spoken, with His own words, even before the creation of the world.

Where does this supposedly unique status of the Hebrew language come from?

A first explanation can be found in the relationship between the Torah and the name of God. The Torah is, literally, the name of God. Scholem explains: « The Torah is not only made up of the names of God, but forms in its entirety the one great name of God. » In support of this thesis, the opinion of the Kabbalistic cenacle of Gerona is quoted: « The five books of the Torah are the name of the Holy One, blessed be He.» ii

How can this be? Here and there in the Torah, we find various names of God, such as the name Yahveh (YHVH) or the name Ehyeh (« I shall be »). But there are also many other (non divine) names, and many other words, that are perfectly profane in the Torah. The four letters aleph, he, waw and yod (אהוי), which are present in Yahveh (יהוה) and Ehyeh ( אֶֽהְיֶ֑ה) are also the letters that serve in Hebrew as matres lectionis (the « mothers of reading »), and as such, they are spread throughout the text, they structure it, and make it intelligible.

From that consideration, some Kabbalists, such as Abraham Aboulafia, draw the conclusion that the true name of God is neither Yahveh nor Ehyeh. Aboulafia goes so far as to say that the true original name of God is EHWY (אהוי), that is, a name composed of the four fundamental letters, without repetition. « The tetragrammaton of the Torah is thus only an expedient, behind which the true original name is hidden. In each of two four-letter names there are only three of the consonants that make up the original name, the fourth being only a repetition of one of them, namely, he (ה). » iii

It was, without a doubt, a thesis of « unheard-of radicality » to affirm that the name of God does not even appear in the Torah, but only some of his pseudonyms… Moses Cordovero of Safed rose with indignation against this maximalist thesis. Yet a similar idea resurfaces elsewhere, in the Kabbalistic work entitled Temunah. It evokes « the conception of a divine name containing, in a different order these four letters, yod, he, waw, aleph, and which would constitute the true name of God before the creation of the world, for which the usual tetragram was substituted only for the creation of this world.» iv

Not surprisingly, there are many more other ideas on the matter. There is, for example, the idea of the existence of seventy-two divine names formed from the seventy-two consonants contained in each of the three verses of Exodus 14:19-21. « Know that the seventy-two sacred names serve the Merkavah and are united with the essence of the Merkavah. They are like columns of shining light, called in the Bible bne elohim, and all the heavenly host pays homage to them. (…) The divine names are the essence itself, they are the powers of the divinity, and their substance is the substance of the light of life.» v

There are also technical methods « to expand the tetragram, writing the name of each of the consonants that make up the tetragram in full letters so as to obtain four names with numerical values of 45, 52, 63 and 72, respectively ».vi Far from being a simple set of letters and numbers, this is a mechanism that is at the foundation of the worlds. « The Torah is formed in the supreme world, as in this original garment, only from a series of combinations, each of which unites two consonants of the Hebrew alphabet. It is only in the second world that the Torah manifests itself as a series of mystical divine names formed from new combinations of the first elements. It has the same letters, but in a different order than the Torah we know. In the third world the letters appear as angelic beings whose names, or at least their initials, are suggested. It is only in the ultimate world that the Torah becomes visible in the form in which it is transmitted to us.» vii

From all of this, one may be tempted to draw the fundamental idea that Hebrew is indeed the original language, the divine language. « Hence the conventional character of secular languages as opposed to the sacred character of Hebrew. »viii

However, there was the catastrophic episode of the Tower of Babel and the confusion of languages, which spared none of them – including Hebrew! « But to the sacred language itself have since then mingled profane elements, just as profane languages still contain here and there elements or remnants of the sacred language.» ix

One is always happy to learn, when one has a somewhat universalist sensibility, that « remnants » of the sacred still exist, « here and there », in other languages. To lovers of languages and dictionaries then comes the thankless but promising task of discovering these sacred snags, which are perhaps still hidden in Greek or Arabic, Avestic or Sanskrit, or even Fulani, Wolof and Chinese, who knows?

From a perhaps more polemical point of view, one may wonder whether this is not a kind of idolatry of the letter, — an « idolettry » , then, or a « grapho-latry »…

We may need to go up to a higher level of understanding, to see things from a higher perspective. « Wisdom is contained and gathered in letters, in sefirot and in names, all of which are mutually composed from each other.» x

We need to broaden the vision. These tiny sacred traces present in the languages of the world are like living germs. « All languages derive their origin by corruption from the original sacred language, in which the world of names immediately unfolds, and they all relate to it in a mediated way. As every language has its home in the divine name, it can be brought back to this center.» xi

All languages then have a vocation to return to the divine « center ». Every word and every letter contain, perhaps, by extension, a tiny bit of sacredness…

« Each singular letter of the Kabbalah constitutes a world in itself » xii, Gershom Scholem adds in a note that in the Zohar (1:4b) it is said that every new and authentic word that man utters in the Torah stands before God, who embraces it and sets it with seventy mystical crowns. And this word then expands in its own motion to form a new world, a new heaven and a new earth.

Let’s be a little more generous, and give the goyim a chance. When the poet says, for example, « O million golden birds, O future vigor!  » , is there any chance that these inspired words, though not present in the Torah, will one day appear trembling before God, and that God will deign to grant them one or two mystical crowns? I do not know. But maybe so. In the eyes of Aboulafia himself, « the knowledge that can be attained by following the path of the mysticism of language prevails over that which follows the path of the ten sefirot. xiii

So let’s make a wager that all languages have their own « mystical » way, certainly well hidden.

Scholem concludes: « What will be the dignity of a language from which God has withdrawn? This is the question that must be asked by those who still believe that they perceive, in the immanence of the world, the echo of the creative word that has now disappeared. It is a question that, in our time, can only be answered by poets, who do not share the despair of most mystics with regard to language. One thing connects them to the masters of Kabbalah, even though they reject its theological formulation, which is still too explicit: the belief in language thought as an absolute, however dialectically torn, – the belief in the secret that has become audible in language. » xiv

For my part, I believe that no human language is totally deserted of all creative speech, of all sacred flavor. I believe that poets all over the world may hear the disturbing echoes, may perceive infinitesimal vibrations, guess the celestial chords present in their languages.

Whether they are whispered, spoken, dreamed, revealed, words from all origins only approach the mystery. It is already a lot, but it is still very little.

There is much more to be said about silence than about words.

« It is indeed quite striking in view of the sacramental meaning that speech had in a decisive manner in contemporary paganism, that it does not play any role in the Israelite religion, nor especially in its rite. This silence is so complete that it can only be interpreted as intentional silence. The Israelite priest fulfills all his offices entirely without any words, with the exception of the blessing which he must pronounce aloud [Numbers 6:24]. In none of his ceremonial acts is he prescribed a word that he must pronounce. He makes all sacrifices and performs his duties without uttering a single word »xv.

The opposition thus made by Benno Jacob between « Israelite worship » and « paganism » may be be easily contradicted, for that matter. During the Vedic sacrifice of the soma, the high priest also remains absolutely silent throughout the ceremony, while his acolytes chant, sing, or recite the hymns.

It is true, however, that the Veda is certainly not a « pagan » religion, since more than a millennium before Abraham left Ur in Chaldea, Veda was already celebrating the unspeakable unity of the Divine.


iGershom Scholem. The name of God and the Kabbalistic theory of language. Ed. Alia. 2018, p. 100.

iiIbid. p.48

iiiAbraham Aboulafia. Gold ha-Sekel. Ms. Munich Heb. 92 Fol.54 a-b. Quoted in Gershom Scholem. The name of God and the Kabbalistic theory of language. Ed. Alia. 2018, p. 71

ivGershom Scholem. Op. cit. p. 72

vJacob ben Jacob Cohen of Soria (~1260-1270) quoted in op.cit. p.77

viGershom Scholem. Op. cit. p. 88

viiIbid. p.88

viiiIbid. p. 91

ixIbid. p. 91

xNer Elohim. Ms. Munich 10, fol. 164B quoted in op.cit. p. 91

xiIbid. p. 106

xiiSefer ha-Melits. Ms. Munich 285, fol. 10a

xiiiGershom Scholem. Op. cit. p.109

xivIbid. p.115

xvBenno Jacob. In the Name of God. Eine sprachliche und religiongeschichtliche Untersuchung zum Alten und Neuen Testament. Berlin, 1903, p. 64. Quoted in G. Scholem, op.cit. p. 19-20.

The End of Knowledge

« Bhārata Natyam« 

In the Rig-Veda, the name Bhārata ( भारत ) designates the God Agni, and the sacred fire. It is a Sanskrit word of Vedic origin. Its root is bhar, « to carry ». Bhārata etymologically means the « carrier ».

Why is this? Because the fire of the sacrifice « carries » the offerings.

Bhārata is also the name of India in Sanskrit, the name of an emperor and that of the mythical author of famous treatises of the Theater, the Nâtya-shâstra and the Gītālamkāra .

René Daumal, who learned Sanskrit, made a remarkable effort to translate into French the texts of Bhārata, the playwright, using a beautiful and poetic language.

Bhārata tells the story of the birth of Knowledge and the origin of Flavor.

Kings, peoples, prophets, and even the Gods themselves, generally ignore what this Knowledge is all about, and they ignore this Flavor.

They all climb one after the other on the great stage of the world theater to utter some lines of relative brillance. But they speak without this Knowledge, without this Flavor.

The innate art of language is not natural to them. They certainly do not excel at it. They know nothing of the only true poetry.

Where is the essence of true poetry? In the Flavor of Life. In the Sapience of Taste.

Shortly before his death, Daumal gave the Cahiers du Sud a few poems with a Vedic touch:

« Into blind darkness enters

Those who are dedicated to the non-knowledge ;

Into even darker darkness

Those who are content with knowledge. » i

Neither breath, nor sight, nor hearing, nor thought are here of any help. We must get rid of them. We need to reach back to the ancient, to the original. To rise higher, to dive deep to the sources, to look for the Breath of the breath, the Sight of the sight, the Hearing of the hearing, the Thought of the thought.

The wise man will recognize what is meant here. Words are no longer in use. They make speech look weak.

Daumal, however, tried to reach out to us, beyond the lines, with words.

« We say that Knowledge is power and foresight. For the Hindu, it is ‘to become’, and to ‘be transformed’. » ii

Words, he taught, have a literal meaning, derived meanings, and more importantly, suggested meanings. It is the immense, loose and delicate universe of verbal « resonances » (dhvani), « suggestions » (vyanjanâ) and « tastes » (rasanâ).

The Flavor is a « conscious joy », even in pain, it is a knowledge that shines forth from its obviousness, it is the sister of the sacred.

Daumal asserts that « he who is capable of perceiving it, ‘tastes’ it, not as a separate thing, but as his own essence. » iii

Thus the poem becomes analogous to oneself. Its flavor is its own « self », its « essence », its « soul ».

Flavor has three functions: sweetness, which « liquefies the spirit »; ardor, which « sets it ablaze » and exalts it; and evidence, which « illuminates » it.

Daumal even asserts: « All the poems recited and all the songs, without exception, are portions of Vishnu, the Great Being, clothed in sound form »iv.

The poem is nothing but wind, if it does not set the whole world and the soul in motion, by sounds, senses, resonances, gait and loves.

Nothing Greek in this. No quiet light. No sea in the sun, no complicit nature. India is already far away, beyond all nature. In freedom, one might say, at last.

« I have settled in the heart of each being.

By Me, come and go memories and knowledge.

The purpose of all knowledge is I alone who am to know.

I am the author of the End of Knowledge.

I am the one who knows this Knowledge. » v


iLes Cahiers du Sud. Special issue 1941  » Message actuel de l’Inde « . Extract from Brihadâranyaka. IV. 4. 10-21. Translated by René Daumal.

iiBharata. René Daumal. Gallimard. 1970. To approach the Hindu poetic art.



vBhagavad Gîtâ, 15, 15 (transl. Ph. Quéau)

Réalité et conscience (Explication et implication)

« David Bohm »

La compréhension de la réalité telle qu’elle nous est donnée ne peut s’accomplir sans une compréhension au moins égale de la conscience. Autrement dit, la compréhension de la réalité et celle de la conscience semblent indissolublement liées. Ceci nous amène à subodorer que la réalité et la conscience elles-mêmes sont liées, ou intriquées, à un certain niveau de profondeur. Les hypothèses les plus avancées des théoriciens de la physique quantique cherchent à cerner la nature de cette intrication.

Le « tout » que forment, en un sens, la réalité du monde et la conscience humaine n’est pas statique ou accompli, mais toujours en mouvement, sans cesse en transformation, en métamorphose, en déploiement.

La conscience observe la réalité, et par là même agit sur elle, et prépare les voies de sa propre transformation vers un état « plus conscient ». Plus conscient de quoi? Plus conscient, non seulement de la réalité en tant que telle, mais aussi de la réalité en tant qu’elle se modifie sous le regard de la conscience, et plus conscient également de la nature profonde de la conscience, qui semble pouvoir aller toujours plus loin ou plus haut, ou plus profondément, dans l’exploration sans fin de sa propre nature.

La conscience, telle qu’elle s’exprime en des pensées naturellement en mouvement, ou telle qu’elle s’imprime toujours à nouveau dans son dépassement permanent, est d’une manière ou une autre confrontée à sa propre vie interne, sa propre métamorphose. Sa figure (impermanente) est à chercher dans sa transfiguration (permanente). Son image est sans cesse cinétique. Sa forme est épigénétique.

Cette épigenèse, cette cinétique, cette transfiguration ne sont pas solipsistes, mais font elles aussi partie de la réalité totale, et font sans doute partie de ses ferments actifs, de ses enzymes catalyseurs, de ses agents effecteurs.

La pensée, loin d’être simplement un outil de découverte du moi pensant, façon Descartes, ou de description analytique du monde, et de modélisation abstraite, est donc pourvue, par le biais de la conscience qui la subsume, d’un pouvoir de « compréhension » (au sens propre : « prendre ensemble ») de la réalité, en tant qu’elle est effectivement intriquée avec la conscience.

A quoi mène cette intrication ? Quel en est le sens profond?

Tout d’abord elle mène à la conscience plus claire d’une nouvelle sorte de totalité, qui englobe la totalité « classique » de la réalité avec la totalité « virtuelle », mais non moins réellei, de l’ensemble des états de conscience (– et donc aussi des états d’inconscience, si l’on admet que l’inconscient est une forme très profonde, très ancienne et très secrète de « conscience »).

Il faut évidemment renoncer à se contenter de la vision cartésienne du moi qui ‘doute’ et qui ‘pense’ pour en déduire avec satisfaction qu’il ‘est’. Il faut adopter une vision plus intégrée. Le moi qui doute, qui pense et qui est conscient de ce doute et de cette pensée, crée par là-même une nouveauté radicale, qui vient s’ajouter comme un élément vivant, impérissable, actif, à la totalité existante.

Au grand peuple universel des étants (toutes les étoiles, les pierres, les fleurs, les abeilles, les hommes, etc.) vient s’ajouter sans cesse le peuple plus universel encore des états (de conscience).

Il ne peut y avoir en conséquence de séparation nette entre le moi de la conscience et le soi du monde. Soi et moi sont indissolublement liés, impliqués, intriqués.

D’un côté, cette intuition ne manque pas de références historiques et philosophiques, notamment du côté des sources orientales (taoïsme, bouddhisme). De l’autre, elle semble contraire à une autre intuition (souvent présentée dans les philosophies occidentales), celle de la fragmentation irrémédiable des consciences, des individus, des nations, des cultures et des religions.

L’idée de fragmentation peut être aisément généralisée, du moins en principe, à l’ensemble de la réalité. Tout serait donc, a priori, divisé, déconnecté, pulvérisé en autant de petites parcelles que possibles, elles-mêmes à nouveau divisibles, brisables, pulvérisables.

Et, in fine, les plus petites parties ou particules auxquelles ce processus de division et de fragmentation conduit, doivent être considérées comme « indépendantes », existant par elles-mêmes, ultimes « constituantes » de la réalité.

Par contraste, tout autre est l’idée d’une totalité englobant la réalité et la conscience dans un « tout » dynamique, métamorphique, auto-génératif, sans cesse en épigenèse.

Certains objecteront : on voit bien que partout se multiplient les guerres, les divisions, les déchirements, les séparations, les antagonismes, les oppositions. Le rêve d’un grand « tout » fait de communion pacifiée est une utopie orientale, bonne seulement pour des moines extatiques.

On peut répondre à cela en prenant encore plus de recul (zoom arrière) ou de hauteur (zoom avant) ou de profondeur (zoom macro).

On répondra qu’on peut inclure les divisions, les séparations, les oppositions dans la totalité puisqu’elles en font déjà objectivement partie.

D’ailleurs il est possible de montrer (philosophiquement) qu’elles sont des éléments actifs, virulents même, d’un « tout » en genèse, auquel elles contribuent par leur fièvre propre. De Héraclite à Hegel, de Marx à C.G. Jung, nombreux sont les penseurs de la contradiction et du rôle actif des contraires.

Si l’on adopte un point de vue strictement scientifique, il est facile de voir que les derniers résultats de la science moderne (théories de la relativité, théories quantiques) exigent la prise en considération de notions impliquant la totalité indivisible de l’univers.

Les crises aiguës qui frappent aujourd’hui notre monde (climat, pandémies, guerres, inégalités, injustices) exigent que l’humanité se donne à elle-même une vision holistique du monde. Seule cette vision et cette compréhension holistiques sont à même de nous mettre sur la voie de solutions intégrées, prenant en compte les multiples interdépendances en cause, et notamment l’interdépendance des consciences et de la réalité.

Nous sommes à l’évidence confrontés, à l’échelle planétaire, à de multiples divisions, séparations, fragmentations, qui ne font que renforcer la confusion générale, elle-même source d’inaction.

Pour agir, nous avons besoin de plus de clarté, de plus de compréhension en profondeur des interdépendances à l’œuvre, des complexités multi-dimensionnelles, inaccessibles aux spécialistes d’une seule discipline (ou d’une seule culture).

L’idée de « totalité » n’est pas totalement nouvelle, bien entendu.

Mais ce qui est nouveau, me semble-t-il, est la prise de conscience que la « totalité » n’est pas fermée, mais ouverte. La « totalité » est même « totalement » ouverte.

Autrement dit, il existe plusieurs niveaux de totalités. Toute vision « holistique » du monde n’est au fond qu’un premier état de conscience d’un holisme provisoire qui ne demande qu’à se complexifier.

Il n’y a pas d’« entièretés » qui soient totalement et définitivement « entières », c’est-à-dire complétées, fermées.

Pour faire image, Dieu Lui-même, oserons-nous avancer, n’est pas « complet ». Il n’est pas « entier ». Il est en devenir. C’est d’ailleurs la raison profonde pour laquelle Il a créé une Création (dont Il aurait peut-être pu se passer, s’Il avait été « complet »). Il a créé cette Création comme un moyen d’élargir et d’enrichir Sa propre « entièreté » initiale, celle qui était avant le « Commencement ». Cette « entièreté » n’était sans doute pas assez « complète » à Ses yeux. Et dans Sa grande sagesse, Il a vu qu’un nouveau niveau de complexité pouvait émerger, par le biais d’une extériorité à Sa propre essence, par le moyen d’une différence entre Lui et d’autres consciences…

Le nouveau complexe ainsi créé (Theos + Cosmos + Anthropos) est l’invention divine, inouïe mais nécessaire, pour développer de nouveaux niveaux de « réalité », de nouveaux niveaux de « totalité », de nouveaux niveaux de « conscience ».

Dans un très beau livre, David Bohm a résumé ses idées révolutionnaires sur la totalité et « l’ordre impliqué »ii.

En liaison avec sa théorie des « variables cachées » qui expliqueraient (en dernière analyse?) le comportement des ondes/particules guidées par leurs « informations actives », Bohm oppose l’ordre « expliqué » ou « déplié » (« explicate or unfolded order ») du monde cartésien de la physique classique et l’ordre « impliqué » ou « replié » (« implicate or enfolded order ») du monde quantique. Les notions ordinaires de temps et d’espace n’ont plus cours dans cet ordre « impliqué ».

Il me vient à l’idée que l’ordre « expliqué » que Bohm veut remplacer par un ordre « impliqué », est peut-être en soi un passage obligé, une première « explication » que la raison se propose, en réponse à laquelle une implication plus profonde de l’ordre du monde devient alors nécessaire.

Il s’en déduirait une dialectique permanente « explication-implication », conduisant d’étapes en étapes à des implications (et donc à des explications) toujours plus profondes.

En tout point de l’univers, que mille plis se déplient ! Afin qu’en leur sein, dix mille se replient et s’intriquent !

Explication, implication et intrication sont les conditions pour la lente émergence d’une méta-conscience.


iPour une réflexion plus approfondie sur la notion de « virtuel », considéré comme non pas s’opposant au réel, mais comme permettant de l’accomplir, on se rapportera à mon livre : Le Virtuel, Vertus et Vertiges, Editions INA/ ChampVallon. 1993

iiDavid Bohm. Wholeness and the Implicate Order. Routledge, 1980.

Memory and Manhood

« Kouros d’Anavyssos – (vers -530) »

Some words are like solitary gems, waiting to be re-discovered, in order to reveal some strange resonances. They sometimes indicate constants of the human nature, which travel through passed millennia, vanished empires, linguistic basins, linking together distant cultures and old civilizations.

For example, in English, the words: « medecine, meditate, mediation, moderate, modest, mode », all actually originate from the same Indo-European root MED-, in Sanskrit : मद्. It is a very rich root, which is also reflected in Latin (medicus, meditor, modus) and Greek ( μἠδομαι, medomai: ‘to meditate, think, imagine’ ; μῆδος, mêdos: ‘thought, design’).

What is more surprising is that in its plural form, this latter word reveals a latent, but significant ambiguity. The plural of μῆδος is μἡδεα, médéa, which means « thoughts » but may also mean « human genitals », establishing thereby an unexpected link between two different aspects of human experience.

There is something even more surprising! The ambivalence between « thought » and « genitals » embedded in this Greek word is found almost identically in Arabic and Hebrew, even though these two semitic languages do not belong to the same linguistic and cultural Indo-European sphere as Greek. How can this happen ? Pure coincidence ? Or symptom of a deeper constant of the human mind ?

The primary meaning of the Arabic verb ذَكَرَ , dzakara, is : « to touch, hit or hurt someone in the virile member », and its secondary meanings are : « to remember, to tell », and « to pray, to say one’s prayers ». We also find a similar ambivalence in the nouns that derive from it. For example, ذِكْرً , dzikr, means « reminiscence, remembrance, recollection » and also « invocation, prayer, reading the Koran ». The same root with different vowels,ذَكَرً , dzakar, means « male », and its plural ذُكُورً, dzoukour, is the « male organ ».

In Hebrew, the verb זָכַר, zakhar, means « to think, to remember, to mention », but also, in a derived sense, « to be born male ». The name of the prophet Zechariah takes his name from this verbal root, and means : « The one God remembers ». The noun זַכֶר , zakher, means « remembrance, name » and זָכָר, zakhar, « that which is male, masculine ».

The word zakhar is, for example, used very crudely by Maimonides in the Guide for the Perplexed(Part I, Chapter 6), which deals with « man and woman » (ish and ishâ)i: « The term zakhar v-nekebah was afterwards applied to anything designed and prepared for union with another object » ii Note that the Hebrew word nekebah literally means « hole », and that zakhar v-nekebah thus literally means « the member and the hole ».

I find it extremely astonishing that languages as different as Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic should share such analogies, by creating direct verbal links between the male organ, mind, memory, and even the sacred.

Even more surprisingly, similar analogies and links can be found in Sanskrit !…

The Sanskrit root MED-, मद् is associated with the idea of strength, vigor, energy. It gave words like medas, « fat, marrow, lymph », medin, « vigor, energy », medini, « fertility, earth, soil », medah, « fat-tailed sheep », or medaka « spirituous liquor ».

As for the root MEDH-, मेध् , it gave words such as: medha: « juice, sauce, marrow, sap; essence; sacrificial victim; sacrifice, oblation »; medhā: « intellectual vigor, intelligence; prudence, wisdom »; medhas: « sacrifice »; medhya: « full of sap, vigorous; strong, powerful; fit for sacrifice; pure; intelligent, wise ».

We see in all these meanings the same kind of metonymic thinking at work. Marrow and sacrifice, sap and power, physical strength and mental energy, intelligence and wisdom draw semantic orbs where the vital energy (sap, fat, seed) is, by its abundance, conducive to sacrifice, and rises to signify man’s higher functions.

If we dig deeper the relationship between fat, sex and mind, we find some amazing leads. In fact, the sanskrit root MED- is a strong form of MID-, « getting fat » or MITH- « understanding » and « killing ».

How can « understanding » and « killing » have the same root, the same etymology? MITH- has as first meaning « to unite, to couple » and as derived meanings « to meet, to alternate », and also « to provoke an altercation ».

It seems that the idea of « meeting » is fundamentally twofold: one can meet as a friend or as an enemy, as a couple or as an antagonist, hence the two meanings derived from this very deep, very primeval intuition: that of « understanding » and that of « killing ».

One can go back even further to more originary sources with the root MI- , « to fix in the ground, to found, to build, to plant pillars ». Hence the derived meanings: « to measure, judge, observe » and « to perceive, know, understand ». Thus the word mit means: « pillar, column », and more generally « any erected object ». It is close to mita, « measured, metered; known ».

Let’s summarize. Every « erection » is a « foundation », and a preparation for future « knowledge »; to « erect » is to prepare oneself to « know ». Memory is rooted in the very foundation of one’s being.

For these ancient languages, « to be manly » is to be pegged to one’s own body, and thus rooted in the entire memory of the species, but it also means projecting oneself entirely into the future.


iCuriously enough, the French edition of the Guide des égarés published by Editions Verdier (1979) left entirely over the sentenceAs can be seen on page 39 of the 1979 edition, but it is indeed present in the English translation dating from 1919.

iiMoses Maimonides. The Guide for the Perplexed. Translated by M. Friedländer. Ed. George Routledge & Sons, London, 1919, p.19

Métaphysique du Dieu « Jaloux »

« YHVH, représenté sur une drachme de la province de Yehud Medinata (Perse), datant du 4ème siècle av. J.-C. »

Dans le psaume 89, le Psalmiste constate, presque cliniquement, que YHVH a de facto rompu unilatéralement l’alliance (censée être éternelle) qu’il avait conclue avec son élu, son oint.

« Et pourtant tu l’as délaissé, rejeté, ton élu, tu t’es emporté contre lui. Tu as rompu l’alliance de ton serviteur, dégradé, jeté à terre son diadème. »i

Il énonce les conséquences épouvantables de cet abandon, de cette rupture de l’alliance: les murailles démolies, les forteresses ruinées, les populations dévastées et pillées, les ennemis remplis de joie, la fin de la splendeur royale, le trône mis à bas, et la honte générale.

Le Psalmiste met YHVH devant sa responsabilité, rappelant que les malheurs et les souffrances ne semblent pas près de finir, alors que la vie de l’homme est infiniment brève :

« Rappelle-toi combien je suis éphémère, combien est vaine la vie que tu donnes à tous les fils d’Adam. Est-il un homme qui demeure en vie sans voir venir la mort ?»ii

Il se permet de rappeler une nouvelle fois, fort discrètement, la promesse faite jadis, et qui devait (en principe) engager YHVH pour toujours:

« Où sont tes anciens bienfaits, Seigneur, que dans ta sincérité tu avais promis à David ? »iii

Ce constat fait, le Psalmiste conclut abruptement, mais sans la moindre acrimonie, par une brève louange, adressée à ce Dieu incompréhensible, et apparemment oublieux :

« Loué soit l’Éternel à jamais ! Amen et amen ! »iv

L’oint délaissé, quelque peu désenchanté, que le Psalmiste incarne, ne semble pas tenir rigueur à l’Éternel de ne pas avoir respecté sa promesse. Il ne semble pas conscient de ce que cet abandon de la promesse pourrait lui donner une sorte de légère supériorité morale sur un Dieu apparemment inconscient de son ‘oubli’.

Il valait peut-être mieux en effet, pour l’oint, cacher toute critique et toute velléité de rancœur à l’égard d’un Dieu si puissant.

C’est un fait que, dans toute sa gloire et son infinie puissance, YHVH ne semble pas vraiment apprécier la pensée critique, quand elle s’exerce à son encontre. Toute espèce de ‘critique’ émanant d’un homme ne peut que diminuer la reconnaissance absolue et la dévotion totale que le Dieu est si désireux de trouver chez ses créatures.

Quoique Son pouvoir soit immense, et qu’il s’étende à l’échelle de tout l’univers, et même au-delà, YHVH a un besoin fondamental, semble-t-il, d’être ‘connu’ et ‘reconnu’ par des consciences réflexives (et laudatives), afin de véritablement « exister » dans la réalité de Sa propre Création. Sans l’existence de ces consciences vivantes, attentives, l’« existence » du Dieu passerait absolument inaperçue, n’ayant aucun témoin.

Sans les (libres) consciences capables de reconnaître (et de louer) Son existence et Sa gloire, celles-ci n’auraient aucun ancrage dans ce monde-ci. Et en est-il d’autres ?

Une existence divine peut certes fort bien se concevoir dans la solitude métaphysique. Après tout, c’était le lot du Dieu, avant que la Création n’advienne.

Mais l’idée d’une gloire divine, infinie, a-t-elle seulement un sens, s’il n’y a aucune conscience qui en soit témoin ?

La gloire de Dieu serait-elle réellement « glorieuse » dans une absolue solitude, une totale absence de toute autre présence, dans un désert, vide de toutes consciences ‘autres’ capables d’en percevoir la réalité ?

L’existence divine ne semble être « réelle » que si cette existence est consciemment perçue (et louée) par quelques consciences réelles. Une existence infiniment ‘seule’, sans conscience ‘autre’ pouvant en témoigner, ne serait pas réellement ‘réelle’, mais serait plutôt comparable à une sorte de sommeil, divin, mais inconscient.

C’est pourquoi le Créateur a besoin de la conscience des hommes pour n’être pas seul dans Sa gloire, pour ne pas rester seul face à Son inconscient, cet inconscient fondamentalement sans limite, plus infiniment sans limite que Sa conscience, elle aussi illimitée, mais relativement, et dans un autre sens.

Le Créateur a ´besoin ´de sa créature… Qu’est-ce que l’Homme possède, et que Dieu n’a pas ?

L’Homme possède sa conscience propre, faite de fragilité, de fugacité, d’évanescence et de néant. Il possède une conscience capable de réfléchir sur elle-même, selon plusieurs degrés de profondeur. La conscience de l’Homme est absolument unique, et même le Dieu omnipotent ne peut défaire le fait qu’il l’a irrévocablement créée dans son exceptionnelle singularité, son unique ipséité.

Dieu Lui-même ne peut être à la fois conscient à la manière d’un Dieu et conscient à la manière de l’Homme. Dieu ou homme, il Lui faut choisir. Il ne peut être à la fois (puisqu’Il est Dieu) conscient/inconscient comme l’est l’Homme, et conscient/inconscient comme l’est Dieu.

Autrement dit, la connaissance de la conscience propre, unique, inviolable, de l’homme fait partie de l’inconscient de Dieu.

Au commencement, la possibilité de l’Homme-Dieu n’était pas encore d’actualité. Il n’y avait alors qu’une seule alternative ontologique : Dieu, ou l’Homme. L’inconscient (infini) ou la conscience (finie).

Finie, mais dense, comme un diamant.

« Est-ce que Yahvé a pu soupçonner que l’Homme possède une lumière infiniment petite, mais plus concentrée que celle que lui, Yahvé, possède ? Une jalousie de cette sorte pourrait peut-être expliquer sa conduite.»v

Yahvé, un Dieu jaloux ? Vraiment ?

Eh bien oui! L’expression « Dieu jaloux » est d’ailleurs courante dans la Bible hébraïque : אֵל קַנָּא , El qanna’. C’est même le nom dont YHVH se nomme Lui-même (à deux reprises) lorsqu’il apparaît à Moïse sur le mont Sinaï ;

 כִּי יְהוָה קַנָּא שְׁמוֹ, אֵל קַנָּא הוּא

«  Car YHVH, son nom est ‘Jaloux’, Il est un Dieu jaloux! » (Ex 34, 14)

Ce nom terrible porte à conséquence, pour l’Homme, — et cela de façon (humainement) amorale :

«Car moi, l’ Éternel, ton Dieu, je suis un Dieu jaloux, qui poursuis le crime des pères sur les enfants jusqu’à la troisième et à la quatrième générations, pour ceux qui m’offensent. » (Ex 20,4 et Dt 5,8)

« L’Éternel est un Dieu jaloux et vengeur; oui, l’Éternel se venge, il est capable de se courroucer: l’Éternel se venge de ses adversaires et il garde rancune. » (Nahoum 1,2)

Non seulement YHVH se venge, mais même vengé, Il garde encore « rancune »…

Selon Jung, c’est Job qui a sans doute été le premier à avoir pleinement compris la contradiction, pour Dieu, d’être à la fois omniscient, omnipotent, et cependant « jaloux » de sa propre créature…

« Job a été élevé à un degré supérieur de connaissance de Dieu, connaissance que Dieu Lui-même ne possédait pas (…) Job a découvert l’antinomie intime de Dieu, et à la lumière de cette découverte, sa connaissance a atteint un caractère numineux et divin. La possibilité même de ce développement repose, doit-on supposer, sur la ‘ressemblance à Dieu’ de l’homme. »vi

L’inconscient, qu’il soit humain ou divin, a une nature « animale », une nature qui veut surtout vivre et ne pas mourir.

La vision ‘divine’ telle qu’Ézéchiel la rapporte était d’ailleurs composée de trois-quarts d’animalité (lion, taureau, aigle) et d’un seul quart d’humanité : «  Quant à la forme de leurs visages, elles avaient toutes quatre une face d’homme et à droite une face de lion, toutes quatre une face de taureau à gauche et toutes quatre une face d’aigle. »vii

D’une telle ‘animalité’, si évidemment [présente dans la ‘vision’ de la divinité par Ézéchiel, qu’est-ce qu’un homme peut (raisonnablement) attendre? Une conduite ‘morale’ ?

Une conduite (humainement) morale peut-elle être (raisonnablement) attendue d’un lion, d’un aigle ou d’un taureau ?

La conclusion que fait Jung peut paraître provocante, mais elle a le mérite de la cohérence :

« YHVH est un phénomène, et non pas un être humain. »viii

Job affronta dans sa propre chair la nature éminemment non-humaine et phénoménale de Dieu, et il fut le premier à s’étonner de la violence de ce qu’il y découvrit, et de ce qui s’y révéla.

Depuis, l’inconscient de l’homme s’est profondément nourri de cette découverte ancienne, jusqu’à nos jours.

Depuis des millénaires l’homme sait inconsciemment que sa propre raison est fondamentalement aveugle, impuissante, devant un Dieu, qui est phénomène pur. Un phénomène dont la vision (prophétique) est aux trois quarts animale, selon Ezéchiel. Un phénomène essentiellement non-humain.

Il doit maintenant tenter de vivre avec ce savoir brut, irrationnel, inassimilable.

Job fut le premier, peut-être, à avoir découvert (consciemment) une connaissance depuis longtemps enfouie au fond de l’ inconscient humain, celle de la nature profondément antinomique, duelle, du Créateur, à la fois aimant et jaloux, violent et doux, créateur et destructeur, conscient et inconscient de toute la profondeur de Sa puissance. Un Dieu ´omniscient´ et cependant, non ignorant mais ´inconscient´ de l’ipséité que chaque homme porte en lui-même. Une divine omniscience, mais ´inconsciente´de ce savoir humain, unique, éphémère et minuscule.

L´incendie ne sait pas l´étincelle…

Quel est ce savoir-étincelle ? C´est le savoir que la conscience de l’Homme, seule et singulière, transcende toute animalité, et se transporte virtuellement dans l’infini de la non-animalité, dans le vertige non-animal de la méta-humanité.

Dieu, essentiellement non-humain. L’Homme, virtuellement non-animal et méta-humain.


iPs 89, 39-40

iiPs 89, 48-49

iiiPs 89, 50

ivPs 89, 53

vC.G. Jung, Answer to Job, Routledge, 1954, p.15

viC.G. Jung, Answer to Job, Routledge, 1954, p.16

viiEz 1, 10

viiiC.G. Jung, Answer to Job, Routledge, 1954, p.24

Shadow and Tears

« Adam’s Creation » Michelangelo

« Let us make man in our image, after our likeness » (Gen. 1:26).

What exactly do these words refer to? What is this divine « image »? What is this Godhead’s « likeness »?

Hebrew has a dozen different terms that express or connote the idea of image. But in this verse, it is the word tselem (צֶלֶם) that is used. Its primary meaning is « shadow, darkness ». It is only in a figurative sense that tselem means « image, figure, idol ».

As for the idea of « likeness » or « resemblance », it is expressed in this verse by the word demouth (דְמוּת). The root of this word comes from the verb damah (דָּמָה), « to resemble, to be similar ».

From this same verbal root derives the word dam (דָּם), « blood »; and figuratively « murder, crime ». Another derived meaning is « resemblance », probably because people of the same blood can have similar traits.

There are several other words, quite close etymologically to damah, that are worth mentioning here, for their potential resonances: דֻּמָּה , dummah, « destruction »; דְּמִי, demi, « destruction, annihilation »; דֳּמִּי, dami, « silence, rest » ; דָּמַע, dama, « to shed tears ».

There is also the word dimyon, which means « demon », and which seems very close to the Greek daimon (δαίμων). Is this a coincidence? Perhaps the Hebrew term was borrowed from the Greek daimon, and transformed into dimyon? Or was it the other way around? I would tend for the former option. It is a fact that the word daimon was used by Homer to mean « divine power ». Moreover, the Greek word daimon etymologically comes from the verb daiomai, « to share, to divide ». Its initial meaning, taken from this verb, is « the power to attribute », hence « divinity, destiny ».

One can usefully compare the same shift in meaning with the old Persian baga and the Sanskrit bogu, « god », which give in Avestic baga-, « part, destiny » and in Sanskrit, bhaga, « part, destiny, master ».

Taking into account all these resonances, I’d like to propose alternatives translations of Genesis 1:26:

« Let us make man out of our shadow (tselem), and out of our tears (dama). »

Or , more philosophically:

« Let us make man out of our darkness (tselem), and out of our annihilation (dummah). »

New questions would then arise:

What does that (divine) darkness refer to? What does this (divine) annihilation really mean ?

A short answer: darkness (´tselem´) is a metaphor of the (divine) unconscious, and annihilation (´dummah´) is a metaphor of the (divine) sacrifice.

Life after Death (a Short Review)

In a famous passage from the Acts of the Apostles, Paul recounts his rapture in paradise in a strangely indirect way:

« I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago – was it in his body? I don’t know; was it outside his body? I don’t know; God knows – … that man was taken up to the third heaven. And that man – was it in his body? Was it without his body? I don’t know; God knows; I know that he was taken up to heaven and heard words that cannot be spoken, that a man is not allowed to say again.»i

Augustine commented specifically on the « third heaven », where Paul was delighted.

According to him, there are indeed three « heavens » corresponding to three different levels of « vision ». There are the heaven of the body, the heaven of the mind and the heaven of the soul.

In the third heaven, at the third level of vision, one can « see the divine substance ».

Augustine exercises in passing his critical mind about the « rapture » of which Paul was apparently the beneficiary. Quite acid is his comment:

« Finally, even though the Apostle who was taken away from the bodily senses and then was taken up to the third heaven and into paradise, he certainly lacked one thing to have this full and perfect knowledge, such as is found in the angels: not knowing whether he was with or without his body. »ii

The body seems to be a hindrance to the full consciousness of the delighted soul. If one can access through ecstasy or rapture to the contemplation of divine things by the soul, what is the use of the body in these exceptional circumstances?

« Perhaps the objection will be made: what need is there for the spirits of the dead to recover their bodies at the resurrection, if, even without their bodies, they can enjoy this sovereign bliss? The question is undoubtedly too difficult to be perfectly dealt with in this book. There is no doubt, however, that the intellectual soul of man, both when rapture takes it away from the use of the carnal senses and when after death it abandons the remains of the flesh and even transcends the similarities of the bodies, cannot see the substance of God as the holy angels see it. This inferiority is due either to some mysterious cause or to the fact that there is a natural appetite in the soul to rule the body. This appetite somehow delays it and prevents it from reaching for that supreme heaven with all its might, as long as the body is not under its influence. »iii

The delighted soul, therefore, sees the substance of God, but in an incomplete way, in any case less than that which the angels enjoy. The body corrupts and burdens the soul, and binds it.

These limitations come from the special relationship (« the natural appetite ») that in men, is established between the soul and the body.

We can deduce that death brings deliverance and gives the soul a power of transformed vision.

But then, if this is the case, why desire the resurrection? Won’t finding one’s body bind the soul again?

Augustine answers that « mysterious » transformations of the glorious body will change its relationship with the soul after the resurrection. The soul will no longer be hindered, but on the contrary energized, and perhaps even capable of contemplating the divine substance in a more active or perfect way, surpassing then that of the angels. iv

In an epistle to the Corinthians, Paul gives his own explanation.

« Other the brightness of the sun, other the brightness of the moon, other the brightness of the stars. A star itself differs in brightness from another star. So it is with the resurrection of the dead: one is sown in corruption, one resurrects in incorruptibility; one is sown in ignominy, one resurrects in glory; one is sown in weakness, one resurrects in strength; one is sown in the psychic body, one resurrects the spiritual body.

If there is a psychic body, there is also a spiritual body. This is how it is written: The first man, Adam, was made a living soul; the last Adam, a life-giving spirit. But it is not the spiritual that appears first; it is the psychic, then the spiritual. The first man, who came from the ground, is earthly; the second comes from heaven. Such was the earthly, such will also be the earthly; such will also be the celestial, such will also be the celestial. And just as we have borne the image of the earthly, so shall we also bear the image of the heavenly. »v

The first Adam is made a living soul. The last Adam is made a life-giving spirit, for Paul.

For Augustine, the vision of the « spirit » reaches the second heaven, and the vision of the « intellectual soul » reaches the third heaven.

Strangely enough, everything happens as if Paul and Augustine had switched their respective uses of the words « soul » and « spirit ».

Perhaps a return to Biblical Hebrew, which distinguishes neshma, ruah, and nephesh, (breath, spirit, soul), will be helpful?

In Gen. 2:7 we read precisely two different expressions:

נִשְׁמַת חַיִּים , breath (neshma) of life,

and :

לְנֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה, soul (nephesh) alive.

Here is Gen 2:7:

ז וַיִּיצֶר יְהוָה אֱלֹהִים אֶת-הָאָדָם, עָפָר מִן-הָאֲדָמָה, וַיִּפַּח בְּאַפָּיו, נִשְׁמַת חַיִּים; וַיְהִי הָאָדָם, לְנֶפֶשׁ חַיָּה.

The French Rabbinate offers a French translation, of which I propose this translation in English:

« The Eternal-God fashioned man from dust detached from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils a breath of life, and man became a living soul. »

The Jerusalem Bible gives :

« Then YHVH God molded man with the clay of the ground, breathed into his nostrils a breath of life and man became a living being. »

Rachi comments on this verse as follows:

« HE FASHIONED (the word is written וַיִּיצֶר with two יּ). Two formations, one for this world, one for the resurrection of the dead. But for the beasts that will not appear on Judgment Day, the same word has only one י (verse 19).

DUST FROM THE GROUND. God has gathered dust from all the earth at the four cardinal corners. In every place where man dies, the earth agrees to be his grave. Another explanation: it was dust taken from the place where it says, « You will make me an altar OF THE EARTH » (Ex. 20:24). God said, « May it be an atonement for him, and he will be able to remain ».

AND HE BREATHED INTO HIS NOSTRILS. He formed it from elements from below and elements from above. The body from below; the soul from above.

For on the first day the heavens and the earth were created. On the second day He said, « Let the earth appear beneath. On the fourth day He created the lights above. On the fifth day He said, « Let the waters swarm and so forth, below. On the sixth day, He had to finish with the world above and the world below. Otherwise there would have been jealousy in the work of creation.

A LIVING SOUL. Pets and field animals are also called living souls. But man’s soul is the most living soul, because it also has knowledge and speech. »

We can see that what matters for Rashi is not so much the distinction between nephesh and neshma, but the life of the soul, which is « more alive » in the case of man.

It is not enough to be alive. It is important that life be « as alive » as possible.

And there is a connection between this « more alive » life and God’s vision.

In a note by P. Agaësse and A. Solignac – « Third Heaven and Paradise » – added to their translation of Augustine’s Genesis in the literal sense, there is a more complete analysis which I summarize in the following paragraphs.

If the third heaven that St. Paul saw corresponds to the third kind of vision, it may have been given to Paul’s soul to see the glory of God, face to face, and to know His very essence. This is Augustine’s interpretation.

But if we make the third heaven one of the celestial spheresvi, among many others, we can in this hypothesis, admit a hierarchy of spiritual and intellectual visions with numerous degrees. Augustine, rather dubious, admits that he himself does not see how to arrive on this subject at a knowledge worthy of being taught.

If most modern exegetes adopt Augustine’s interpretation, the history of ideas is rich in other points of view.

Ambrose affirms that man « goes from the first heaven to the second, from the second to the third, and thus successively to the seventh, and those who deserve it to go to the top and to the vault of the heavens ». vii

He admits the existence of more than three heavens. And he criticizes the idea that Paul only ascended to the « third heaven », which would be only that of the « moon ».

Origen also evokes Paul’s vision to show that man can know heavenly things. But, he says, it is not man by himself who accesses this knowledge, it is the Spirit of God who illuminates man.viii

Origen also says that the friends of God « know him in His essence and not by riddles or by the naked wisdom of voices, speeches and symbols, rising to the nature of intelligible things and the beauty of truth. » ix

Origen also believes that it is reasonable to admit that the Prophets, through their hegemonikon (which is another Greek name for the noos, the spirit), were able to « see wonders, hear the words of the Lord, see the heavens opened »x, and he gives the rapture of Paul as an example of those who saw the heavens open.

From all this we can infer that there is some confusion about the nature of the « heavenly visions », their hierarchy, and their actual ability to « know » the divine essence.

This confusion is somehow symbolized by the fact that Augustine calls spiritual and intellectual what other authors call psychic and spiritual.

Paul himself distinguishes, as we have seen, the living soul of the « first Adam » and the life-giving spirit of the « last Adam » .

Are these only battles of words? No, they bear underlying witness to a fundamental question: what is the nature of the bond between soul and body?

This is a very old question, but also a hyper-modern one, as it highlights the powerlessness of neuroscience to deal with this kind of subject.

The three kinds of visions proposed by Augustine shed light on the nature of the « place » that the soul reaches after death. This place, in which the soul finds rewards, or punishments, is essentially spiritual. There is therefore a corporeal Paradise or Hell, such as the Jewish Gehenna, one of whose entrances is in Jerusalem, and Eden, whose entrance is in Damascus or Palestine, according to the Talmud?

The separated soul no longer has a body, but it keeps a mysterious link with the body in which it lived, as a « living soul », and retains a certain similarity with it.

The body is a cocoon, and the soul separates from it to continue its progression.

« It is a whole theory of knowledge that Augustine develops (with the three kinds of visions), in all its dimensions, sensitive, imaginative and intellectual, normal and pathological, profane and mystical, intramural and celestial.

The three kinds of visions mark the stages of the soul’s journey from the corporeal to the intelligible, reveal the structure of its essence in its triple relationship to the world, to itself, to God, and develop the dialectic of transcendence that fulfills its destiny. »xi

Let’s give Paul the benefit of the last word. The first Adam was made a « living soul ». His destiny, which sums up Man, is to metamorphose, through life, death, and resurrection, into the last Adam, who is « life-giving spirit ».

The destiny of the soul, therefore, is to metamorphose not into a merely « living » spirit, but into a spirit that « invigorates », a spirit that gives life and « makes live ».


i2 Cor. 12, 2-4

iiS. Augustine. Genesis in the literal sense. Book XII, 36, 69. Desclée de Brouwer. 1972, p.455.Augustine concedes, however: « But this knowledge will no longer fail him when, once the bodies are recovered at the resurrection of the dead, this corruptible body will be clothed with incorruptibility and this mortal body clothed with immortality (1 Cor. 15:53). For all things will be evident and, without falsity or ignorance, will be distributed according to their order – both bodily and spiritual and intellectual – in a nature that will have recovered its integrity and will be in perfect bliss. »

iiiIbid. Book XII, 35, 68, p.451.

iv« Afterwards, when this body is no longer an animal body, but when the coming transformation has made it a spiritual body, the soul, equal to the angels, will acquire the mode of perfection proper to its nature, obedient and commanding, invigorated and invigorating, with such ineffable ease that what was a burden to it will become for it an added glory. Even then, these three kinds of vision will subsist ; but no falsehood will make us take one thing for another, neither in bodily nor in spiritual visions, much less in intellectual visions. These will be so present and clear to us that in comparison the bodily forms which we reach today are much less obvious to us, they which we perceive with the help of our bodily senses and to which many men are so enslaved that they think that there are no others and figure that, all that is not such, does not exist at all. Quite different is the attitude of the sages in the face of these bodily visions: although these things appear more present, they are nevertheless more certain of what they grasp is worth to them by intelligence beyond the bodily forms and similarities of bodily things, although they cannot contemplate the intelligible with the intellectual soul as they see the sensible with the bodily sense. « » S. Augustine. Book XII, 35-36, 68-69. Desclée de Brouwer. 1972, p.451

v1 Cor. 15, 41-49

vi Some have seven, others eight, nine or even ten. One can refer to Plato’s theses on this subject.

In addition, P. Agaësse and A. Solignac recall that the Ambrosiaster rejects the opinion that Paul was raised to the third heaven, that of the moon.

viiIn Ambrose’s commentary on Ps. 38:17.

viii De Orat. 1, P.G.11,416 BC citing 2 Cor. 12,4 and 1 Cor. 2, 11-16

ixExhort. ad Mart. 13, P.G. 11,580 C

x C. Cels. 1,48

xiP. Agaësse and A. Solignac. Note in La Genèse au sens littéral, op.cit. p. 585.

L’homme inutilisable

« Tchouang-tseu »

Quand il me souvient des moments de ma vie passée dans le Marigot, et de la tentation de l’appel du large, me viennent à l’esprit ces lignes de sagesse taoïste :

« Quand la source est tarie, les poissons de l’étang se réfugient dans la vase. Ils s’envoient mutuellement leurs humides haleines ; ils se mouillent réciproquement de leurs baves. Ces poissons misérables ne sauraient se comparer à ceux qui s’oublient mutuellement dans les fleuves et les lacs. »i

Pour mon goût, les fleuves et les lacs sont encore trop serrés; j’ai choisi la mer, et j’ai plongé dans la lumière du soleil, qui est plus qu’océane.

Quand aux recherches qui meublent mon temps et habitent mon désir, il est difficile d’en prouver l’utilité et la pertinence, dans un temps comme celui-ci. Un jour peut-être saurai-je en rassembler quelques leçons en un bouquet odorant ou une gerbe mordorée? En attendant cette improbable fête, me tente l’image de l’arbre inutile.

C’était un arbre vraiment immense. Il pouvait couvrir de ses feuilles une vaste portion de terre, et des milliers de chevaux, de vaches, de chèvres, et d’autres bétails, pouvaient s’assembler sous son ombre, pour y brouter dans la fraîcheur. Mais un homme sceptique et plein de raison vint et demanda : « Quel est cet arbre ? A quoi peut-il bien servir ? Ses petites branches courbes, tordues, sont inaptes à faire des poutres, des charpentes. Son tronc noueux, crevassé, ne conviendrait ni pour des mâts de marine, ni pour des meubles raffinés. Et qui en voudrait même pour les planches de son cercueil ? Quant à mâchonner ses feuilles ou en faire des tisanes, il faut savoir qu’elles sont amères et même toxiques à faible dose. Ses fruits sont difficiles à digérer. Pour son odeur, qu’il suffise de dire qu’elle monte au cerveau, qu’elle indispose même les bien-portants, et qu’elle rend vite ivre. Cet arbre est vraiment inutilisable. »

Il est inutilisable ! Ce fut sa chance… Aurait-il été un tant soit peu ‘utilisable’, sa canopée aurait-elle pu atteindre cette taille ? On peut en douter. Il eut été exploité selon les règles de l’industrie et la convoitise des intérêts.

A son exemple, l’homme qui toujours cherche, sans pourtant sembler trouver, lui aussi, n’est que bois inutilisable.ii


iTchouang-tseu. L’Œuvre complète, XIV, Unesco, 1969. Trad. Liou Kia-Hway et Benedyst Grynpas, in « Philosophes taoïstes ». Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 1980, p.193

iiD’après un passage de Tchouang-tseu. L’Œuvre complète, IV. Ibid. p. 117

Visions and Consciousness

« Peter’s Vision » Gordon Wilson

Where is the Garden of Eden?

According to the Talmud, it is either in Palestine, or in Arabia, or in Damascus. i

Where is the Underworld?

In Sion, says Rabbi Ismael’s school. ii

And where is the entrance to the Underworld? Rabbi Jeremiah ben Eleazar said, « Gehenna has three entrances: one in the desert, another in the sea, and the third in Jerusalem. » iii

Gehenna takes its name from Gaihinom, meaning a valley as deep as the Valley of Hinom. But Gehenna has many other names as well: Tomb, Perdition, Abyss, Desolation, Mire, Mire of Death, Land of Below. iv

This last expression is similar to the one used by the Nations: the « Underworld ».

« We speak in Latin of the underworld (inferi) because it is below (infra). Just as in the order of bodies, according to the law of gravity, the lowest are all the heaviest, so in the order of spirits, the lowest are all the saddest. » v

Everyone agrees that the Underworld is a sad place. But is it a geographical place, like being located « under Zion »?

Augustine, for his part, asserts that the Underworld is a spiritual place, not a place « under the earth ».

And he adds that this « spiritual place » is in Heavens.

In Heavens ? But which one?

Augustine indeed distinguishes three different

First Heaven: The corporeal world, which extends over the waters and the earth.

Second Heaven: Everything that is seen by the spirit, and resembles bodies, like the vision of animals that Peter in ecstasy saw coming down to him (Acts, X, 10-12).

Third Heaven: « What the intellectual soul contemplates once it is so separated, distant, cut off from the carnal senses, and so purified that it can see and hear, in an ineffable way, what is in heaven and the very substance of God, as well as the Word of God by whom all things were made, and this in the charity of the Holy Spirit. In this hypothesis, it is not unreasonable to think that it was also in this sojourn that the Apostle was delighted (II Cor., 12:2-4), and that perhaps this is the paradise superior to all the others and, if I may say so, the paradise of paradises. » vii

How can one explain the difference between the second Heaven and the third one ?

One may get an idea of the difference by analyzing two visions of Peter as opposed to Paul’s own famous revelation:

« He felt hungry and wanted to eat something. But while they were preparing food for him, he fell into ecstasy. He saw the sky open and an object, like a large tablecloth tied at the four corners, descending towards the earth. And inside there were all the quadrupeds and reptiles and all the birds of the sky. Then a voice said to him, ‘Come, Peter, kill and eat.’ But Peter answered, ‘Oh no! Lord, for I have never eaten anything that is unclean or impure!’ Again, a second time, the voice spoke to him, ‘What God has cleansed, you do not defile.’ This was repeated three times, and immediately the object was taken up to heaven. (…) As Peter was still reflecting on his vision, the Spirit said to him, ‘Here are men who are looking for you. Go therefore, come down and go with them without hesitation, for I have sent them.» viii

Following the advice, Peter goes to Cornelius’ home, who was a Roman centurion. There he finds a large number of people waiting for him. Then Peter said to them, « You know that it is absolutely forbidden for a Jew to fraternize with a stranger or to enter his house. But God has just shown me that no man is to be called unclean or impure.» ix

This first vision had a very real and concrete effect on Peter. It induced this eyebrowed and law-abiding Jew to somewhat overlook some prohibitions set by the Law, and to fraternize and share food with a group of non-Jews, assembled in their own home.

Peter then had a second vision, in more dramatic circumstances.

Peter had been arrested, put in prison, and about to be executed, on the order of King Herod.

« Suddenly the angel of the Lord came, and the dungeon was flooded with light. The angel struck Peter on the side and raised him up: « Get up! Quickly, » he said. And the chains fell from his hands. »x

Then, « Peter went out and followed him, not realizing that which was done by the angel was real, but he thought he was having a vision.» xi

This was not a vision indeed, but a real event, since Peter was really set free.

Still, there was an element of « vision » in this « reality » : the apparition of the angel and his role in the escape of Peter.

Peter had yet to acknowledge that role.

« Suddenly, the angel left him. Then Peter, returning to consciousness, said, « Now I know for certain that the Lord has sent His angel and has taken me out of the hands of Herod and out of all that the people of the Jews were waiting for.» xii

It was not the reality of his evasion from the prison of Herod that awakened the consciousness of Peter.

He became conscious only when the angel left him.


iAt least that is what Rech Lakich asserts in Aggadoth of the Babylonian Talmud. Erouvin 19a §16. Translated by Arlette Elkaïm-Sartre. Ed. Verdier. 1982, p.264.

iiThe passage « Who has his fire in Zion and his furnace in Jerusalem » (Is. 31:9) shows us this. According to the school of R. Ishmael, His fire in Zion is Gehenna; His furnace in Jerusalem is the entrance to Gehenna. In Aggadoth of the Babylonian Talmud. Erouvin 19a §14. Translation by Arlette Elkaïm-Sartre. Ed. Verdier. 1982, p.263.

iiiAggadoth of the Babylonian Talmud. Erouvin 19a §14. Translated into French by Arlette Elkaïm-Sartre, and my English translation. Ed. Verdier. 1982, p.263.

ivAccording to R. Joshua ben Levi. Ibid. p.264

vS. Augustine. Genesis in the literal sense. Book XII, 34, 66: Desclée de Brouwer. 1972, p.449.

viS. Augustine. Genesis in the literal sense. Book XII, 34, 67. Desclée de Brouwer. 1972, p.449.

viiIbid. Book XII, 34,68; p.451

viiiAct. 10, 10-20

ixAct. 10, 28

xAct, 12.7

xiAct, 12.9

xiiAct, 12, 10-11

Neurosciences, the Talmud and the Soul

« First page of the Talmud »

One can consult the latest research in Neurosciences on consciousness: many interesting hypothesis are tested, but there is never a word about the soul. Total absence of the idea, even. Is soul a blind spot of techno-sciences? One may suppose that the soul, by her very nature, escapes all scientific investigation, she is out of reach, absolutely. She can’t be looked at, with a simply « objective », « materialistic » gaze.

By contrast, the Talmud is more prolific on the subject, and teaches several things about the human soul: she has been called « Light »; she « fills » and « nourishes » the whole body; she « sees » but cannot be seen; she is « pure »; she resides in a « very secret place »; she is « weak ».

It’s a good start. But let’s review these Talmudic determinations of the soul.

The soul is named « Light ».

« The Holy One, blessed be He, said, ‘The soul I have given you is called Light, and I have warned you concerning the lights. If you heed these warnings, so much the better; if not, beware! I will take your souls’. » i

Light is only the third of God’s « creations », right after heaven and earth. But there is an important nuance. Heaven and earth were definitely « created ». « In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. » ii

But « light » was not « created », literally speaking. Rather, it came right out of the word of God: « God said, ‘Let there be light’ and there was light. » iv

Moreover, it seems that from the start, light worked better, as a creation: « God saw that the light was good. » v God did not say that the heaven or the earth were « good ».

Light, therefore, was the first of the divine creations to be called « good ».

Hence, maybe, its extraordinary success as a metaphor. Light became the prototype of life (of men): « Life was the light of men »vi. And, by extension, it also became the prototype of their soul, as the Talmud indicates. If life is the light of men, the soul is the light of life.

This explains why, later on, we will see a deep connection between light and truth: « He who does the truth comes to the light »vii.

The Hebrew word for « light » is אור, « or ». The word אור means « light, radiance, sun, fire, flame », but also, by extension, « happiness ».

« Or », אור, is maybe the true name, the true nature of the soul.

The soul fills and nourishes the body, sees, is pure, and resides in a very secret place.

We learn all this in the Berakhot treaty:

« R. Chimi b. Okba asked: ‘How can I understand? Bless the LORD, my soul: let all my womb bless his name. (Ps 103:1)? (…) What was David thinking when he said five timesviii Bless the LORD, my soul?

– [He was thinking ] of the Holy One, blessed be He, and to the soul. Just as the Holy One, blessed be He, fills the whole world, so the soul fills the whole body; the Holy One, blessed be He, sees and is not visible, and likewise the soul sees but cannot be seen; the soul nourishes the whole body, just as the Holy One, blessed be He, nourishes the whole world; the Holy One, blessed be He, is pure, the soul also; like the Holy One, blessed be He, the soul resides in a very secret place. It is good that the one who possesses these five attributes should come to glorify the One who possesses these five attributes. » ix

This text teaches us that the soul has five attributes. These five attributes are based on the hypothesis of a « likeness » or « resemblance » between the soul and the « Holy One ».

The soul fills the whole body and nourishes it. But then what happens when a part of the body becomes detached from it? Does a piece of the soul leave as a result? No, the soul is indivisible. What is called « body » takes its name only from the presence of the soul that envelops and fills it. If the body dies and decomposes, it just means that the soul has gone. Not the other way around.

The soul sees. It is not, of course, through the eyes of the body. It is all about seeing what cannot be seen, which is beyond all vision. The soul sees but she does not see herself. This comes from the fact that she is of the same essence as the divine word that said « Let there be light ». One cannot see such a word, nor can one hear it, one can only read it.

The soul is pure. But then evil does not reach her? No. Evil does not attain her essence. It can only veil or darken her light. Evil can be compared to thick, uncomfortable clothes, heavy armor, or rubbish thrown on the skin, or a hard gangue hiding the brilliance of an even harder diamond.

The soul resides in a very secret place. This statement should be made known to the specialists of neurosciences. The first Russian cosmonauts famously reported, after their return to earth, that they had not found God in space. Nor is there much chance that the soul can be detected by positron emission tomography or other techniques of imagery. This makes it necessary to imagine a structure of the universe that is much more complex (by many orders of magnitude) than the one that « modern », positivist science is trying to defend.

The soul is weak.

The soul is « weak », as evidenced by the fact that she « falters » when she hears even a single word from her Creator. « R. Joshua b. Levi said: Every word spoken by the Holy One, blessed be he, made the souls of Israel faint, for it is said, My soul fainted when he spoke to me (Cant. 5:6). But when a first word had been spoken and the soul had gone out, how could she listen to a second word? He made the dew fall that was destined to raise the dead in the future, and it raised them up. » x

There are even more serious arguments. The soul is weak in its very essence, because she « floats ».

« [In Heaven] are also the breaths and souls of those who are to be created, for it is said before me the breaths float, and the souls which I have made (Is. 57:16); and the dew that will serve the Holy One, blessed be he, to raise the dead. » xi

The quotation from Isaiah in this excerpt from the Talmud, however, lends itself to other interpretations, and translations…

The word « float » here translates the Hebrew יַעֲטוֹף: « to cover oneself; to be weak ».

With this more faithful sense, one reads: « Thus says He who is high and exalted, whose dwelling is eternal and whose name is holy: ‘I am high and holy in my dwelling place, but I am with the contrite and humiliated man, to revive the humiliated spirits, to revive the contrite hearts. For I do not want to accuse constantly or always be angry, for before me would weaken the spirit and those souls I created.  » (Is. 57:15-16)

Another translation (by the Jerusalem Bible) chooses to translate יַעֲטוֹף as « to die out »:

« Sublime and holy is my throne! But it is also in the contrite and humble hearts, to vivify the spirit of the humble, to revive the hearts of the afflicted. No; I don’t want to argue without respite, to be angry all the time, because the spirit would eventually die out in front of me, with these souls that I myself have created. »

So, is the soul « floating », « weak » or threatened to « die out »?

All this together, for sure. Fortunately, Isaiah brings us good news.

The souls of the humble and the afflicted will be enlivened, revived.

It is the souls of the proud who risk to die out.

I would like to conclude here, with yet another metaphor, due to the Psalmist:

« My soul is in me like a child, like a little child against its mother. » xii


i Aggadoth of the Babylonian Talmud. Shabbat 31b. §51. Translated by Arlette Elkaïm-Sartre. Ed. Verdier. 1982, p.168.

iiGen. 1.1

iiiGen. 1.2

ivGen. 1.3

vGen. 1.4

viJn 1.4

viiJn 3.21

viiiIn Psalm 103, David says three times, Bless the LORD my soul (Ps 103:1, 2 and 22), once bless the LORD, you his angels (103:20), once bless the LORD, you his hosts (Ps 103:21), once bless the LORD, you all his creatures (Ps 103:22). However, David says twice more Bless the LORD, my soul in Psalm 104:1, « My soul, bless the LORD! O LORD my God, you are infinitely great! « and « Bless, my soul, YHVH, hallelujah! « Ps 104:35.

ixAggadoth of the Babylonian Talmud. Berakhot 10a. §85. Translated by Arlette Elkaïm-Sartre. Ed. Verdier. Lagrasse, 1982, p. 69-70.

xAggadoth of the Babylonian Talmud. Shabbat 88b. §136. Translated by Arlette Elkaïm-Sartre. Ed. Verdier. 1982, p.207.

xi Aggadoth of the Babylonian Talmud. Haguiga 12b, § 31. Translated by Arlette Elkaïm-Sartre. Ed. Verdier. 1982, p.580.

xiiPs. 131,2

Raison et Inconscient Quantiques

Chacun d’entre nous est réellement un système quantique, affirme Alexander Wendt (« Human beings really are quantum systems »i).

D’un côté, cette affirmation est une évidence, puisqu’en dernière analyse nous sommes effectivement composés de molécules, d’atomes et d’un certain nombre de particules élémentaires, qui obéissent aux lois de la mécanique quantique, très différentes, comme on le sait, des lois de la physique classique.

D’un autre côté, cela peut sembler contre-intuitif, tant le corps qui nous constitue, l’esprit qui nous anime, la mémoire qui nous fonde, l’intelligence qui nous éclaire, la volonté qui nous inspire, semblent fort loin de la réalité quantique, plus proche de nuages mathématiques de probabilités abstraites que de la vie concrète de tous les jours, avec son cortège relativement stable de sujets, d’objets et d’interactions plus ou moins observables.

Il est aussi possible qu’il n’y ait pas de contradiction entre ces deux « côtés ». Nous pourrions parfaitement être à la fois des systèmes quantiques obéissant aux lois de la mécanique quantique dans les profondeurs de notre corps et de notre cerveau, et, en même temps, des êtres humains plongés dans la réalité quotidienne, faites de sujets et d’objets.

Par exemple, on peut imaginer que le monde quotidien, la réalité de tous les jours, n’est que la projection « réalisée » d’une possibilité singulière, choisie parmi une infinité d’états quantiques superposés.

Chaque femtoseconde, des quantités inimaginables de micro-événements quantiques se « réalisent » en tous points de notre corps et notamment dans notre cerveau. Infiniment plus nombreux encore, sont les événement qui ne se réalisent pas mais qui demeurent dans un état de « superposition » quantique, c’est-à-dire restent à l’état de nuages de probabilités, jusqu’à ce que certaines conditions permettent de nouvelles émergences, de nouvelles actualisations singulières dans l’univers des possibles.

Admettons un instant le point de vue « matérialiste », selon lequel l’esprit humain n’est qu’un épiphénomène, découlant seulement du fonctionnement interne du cerveau, et voyons ce qu’on peut en inférer, du point de vue de l’épistémologie quantique.

Si le cerveau est un « système quantique », on peut en induire que l’esprit humain est sans doute aussi dans un état de « superposition quantique ».

Dans ces conditions, comment l’esprit, plongé dans de multiples nuages de probabilités, peut-il prendre une décision effective, se traduisant matériellement, dans la réalité?

La théorie classique de la décision pose que celle-ci découle de la maximalisation de l’utilité. L’utilité est considérée par les matérialistes, les positivistes et bien sûr les utilitaristes, comme le principal critère de la rationalité de la décision.

Cette théorie présuppose que l’esprit humain possède des croyances et des préférences dûment définies. Toute décision, toute action peut alors être envisagée comme un moyen de maximiser la satisfaction des préférences ou le respect des croyances, à travers le choix d’un comportement ad hoc.

En revanche, dans la théorie quantique de la décision, il n’y a pas de préférence a priori, pas de croyance pré-existante, ni non plus de critère d’utilité à maximiser. La rationalité ne peut plus prétendre à relier mécaniquement, classiquement, des circonstances initiales, des moyens appropriés et une fin désirée, car cette fin n’existe pas (ou pas encore). La prise de conscience de la fin poursuivie, ou « désirée », dépend en fait de la détermination effective de l’ensemble de l’environnement (y compris jusqu’aux confins de l’univers) et du choix des moyens pour en mesurer les critères de réalisation.

La théorie quantique n’exclut certes pas le rôle des « croyances » et des « préférences », dont on sait qu’elle peuvent par ailleurs jouer leur rôle dans des situations classiques, mais elle les relativisent, compte tenu de la masse totale des informations actives qui assaillent objectivement ou subrepticement l’esprit du décideur.

Quand il y a une situation d’incertitude profonde, de crise grave, d’urgence immédiate, ou même seulement de flou cognitif sur l’état réel de l’environnement, les croyances et les préférences ne peuvent plus jouer leur rôle « mécanique », « classique », d’orientation « rationnelle » de la décision.

Le cerveau prend alors tous les autres moyens qui sont à sa disposition pour surmonter les aléas de l’incertitude générale, – et il s’appuie notamment sur les ressources potentiellement disponibles, celles que recèlent les innombrables superpositions de ses non moins innombrables « états » quantiques et de leurs intrications avec l’ensemble du cosmos.

La théorie quantique de la décision remet donc en cause l’idée selon laquelle avoir un esprit « logique », une « raison » bien ordonnée, soient la base optimale pour relever les défis des incertitudes et des complexités, et pour prendre des décisions dans des contextes intrinsèquement insaisissables, non représentables rationnellement, et selon la théorie classique, indécidables.

Cette assurance vient d’un fait expérimental bien connu. Quand un physicien mesure le comportement d’une particule, il devient de facto intriqué avec elle. Le processus de la mesure, qu’il conçoit et met en œuvre, crée d’emblée une corrélation non-locale entre l’objet à mesurer, l’appareil de mesure et le cerveau du physicien, corrélation qui influence irrémédiablement, en retour, le résultat de la mesure obtenue.

Cette non-séparabilité de la particule avec tout son environnement est la base de la théorie du holisme des processus quantiques.

Comme les êtres humains sont des systèmes quantiques, ils font partie eux aussi d’univers multiples, relationnels, holistiques, englobant l’ensemble des mondes macroscopiques et microphysiques.

L’esprit humain est donc, quantiquement parlant, infiniment plus étendu que le cerveau biologique proprement dit. Il s’étend infiniment au-delà de l’occiput ou du lobe frontal, et il communique en permanence et instantanément avec l’univers entier, non seulement tel qu’il est à l’instant t, mais aussi tel qu’il a été depuis son origine, et peut-être même tel qu’il sera jusqu’à sa fin, puisque dans cette représentation le temps se présente sous la forme d’une universelle synchronicité, pour reprendre le terme proposé par C. G. Jung.

La communication de l’esprit avec l’univers ne s’opère pas par la transmission causale d’informations ou de signaux qui convergeraient vers l’esprit-récepteur.

L’esprit n’est pas un appareil de radio qui recevrait des ondes émanant du reste de l’univers.

Il est en permanence dans un état de superposition quantique avec l’ensemble de l’univers. Il n’y a pas transmission et réception, mais superposition et synchronicité.

Dans ces conditions, comme l’esprit humain prend-il une décision ?

Elle se fait par le passage de la superposition de multiples états « potentiels » à un seul état « actuel » de l’esprit. Dans le jargon de la mécanique quantique, ce passage s’appelle « effondrement » ou « réduction » (« collapse » en anglais) des fonctions d’onde. Il exprime l’idée qu’une réalité « actuelle » prend soudain forme, émergeant d’un vaste ensemble de potentialités qui demeuraient jusqu’alors « superposées », réparties en un spectre de probabilités.

La perception quantique, instantanée, « non-locale », permet une certaine correspondance, instantanée, entre l’esprit et son environnement indéfini, complexe, incertain. La rationalité livrée à sa seule clarté, à son aveuglement solipsiste, soumise à des lois classiques de causalité, et d’interdépendance spatiale et temporelle, est bien moins apte à traiter de l’obscur, du flou, et de l’indécidable .

Il y a encore d’autres sources, non rationnelles, dont l’esprit s’abreuve en permanence : les émotions, le subconscient et l’inconscient.

Les émotions ne relèvent pas de la raison. L’inconscient non plus.

Cependant, les neurosciences ont prouvé expérimentalement que la raison et les émotions sont profondément entremêlées, enchevêtrées, intriquées, surtout lorsqu’il s’agit de prendre des décisions dans l’incertitude, l’ignorance ou l’urgence.

Que signifie alors l’idée de « rationalité », si la raison est ainsi naturellement soumise à tant d’influences exogènes ?

Il y a peut-être, au-delà de la raison une méta-raison, un méta-logos ou un méta-noos, capable de « superposer » raison, émotion, subconscient et inconscient ?

Cette méta-raison enrichirait considérablement l’idée même de « raison », si l’on accepte de considérer l’élargissement immense de son possible champ de perception et d’intellection (par le biais de toutes ces sources non rationnelles, les émotions, le subconscient et l’inconscient).

Par son intermédiaire l’esprit voit son pouvoir de saisie étendu jusqu’aux confins des mondes, et jusqu’au tréfonds de l’abîme.

On peut en tirer deux conclusions provisoires :

1. Le cosmos, la raison et l’inconscient, sont « intriqués », depuis les origines.

2. Par cette « intrication », l’univers et l’inconscient (cosmique) ont fait intrinsèquement alliance avec l’espèce humaine.

Saurons-nous respecter le pacte qu’implique cette fort ancienne alliance ?


iAlexander Wendt. Quantum Mind and Social Science. Unifying Physical and Social Ontology. Cambridge University Press, 2015. p. 3. Je dois la découverte de ce beau livre à l’ami Derrick de Kerckhove, que je remercie ici.

The Pagan and the Rabbi

« The Old Rabbi ». Rembrandt

Is a « beautiful girl », whose beauty is « without soul », really beautiful?

Kant thought about this interesting question.

« Even of a girl, it can be said that she is pretty, conversational and good-looking, but soulless. What is meant here by soul? The soul, in the aesthetic sense, refers to the principle that, in the mind, brings life.» i

For Kant, here, the soul is an aesthetic principle, a principle of life. Beauty is nothing if it does not live in some way, from the fire of an inner principle.

Beauty is really nothing without what makes it live, without what animates it, without the soul herself.

But if the soul brings life, how do we see the effect of her power? By the radiance alone of beauty? Or by some other signs?

Can the soul live, and even live to the highest possible degree, without astonishing or striking those who are close to her, who even brush past her, without seeing her? Or, even worse, by those who see her but then despise her?

« He had no beauty or glamour to attract attention, and his appearance had nothing to seduce us. » ii

These words of the prophet Isaiah describe the « Servant », a paradoxical figure, not of a triumphant Messiah, but of God’s chosen one, who is the « light of the nations »iii and who « will establish righteousness on earthiv.

A few centuries after Isaiah, Christians interpreted the « Servant » as a prefiguration of Christ.

The Servant is not beautiful, he has no radiance. In front of him, one even veils one’s face, because of the contempt he inspires.

But as Isaiah says, the Servant is in reality the king of Israel, the light of the nations, the man in whom God has put His spirit, and in whom the soul of God delightsv.

« Object of contempt, abandoned by men, man of pain, familiar with suffering, like someone before whom one hides one’s face, despised, we do not care. Yet it was our suffering that he bore and our pain that he was burdened with. And we considered him punished, struck by God and humiliated. » vi

The Servant, – the Messiah, has neither beauty nor radiance. He has nothing to seduce, but the soul of God delights in him.

A beautiful woman, without soul. And the Servant, without beauty, whose soul is loved by God.

Would soul and beauty have nothing to do with each other?

In the Talmud, several passages deal with beauty; others with the soul; rarely with both.

Some rabbis took pride in their own, personal beauty.

R. Johanan Bar Napheba boasted: « I am a remnant of the splendors of Jerusalem ». vii

His beauty was indeed famous. It must have been all the more striking because his face was « hairless ».viii

And, in fact, this beauty aroused love, to the point of triggering unexpected transports.

« One day, R. Johanan was bathing in the Jordan River. Rech Lakich saw him and jumped into the river to join him.

– You should devote your strength to the Torah, » said R. Johanan.

– Your beauty would suit a woman better, » replied Rech Lakich.

– If you change your life, I’ll give you my sister in marriage, who is much more beautiful than I am. » ix

At least this R. Johanan was looked at and admired ! The same cannot be said of Abraham’s wife. She was beautiful, as we know, because the Pharaoh had coveted her. But Abraham did not even bother to look at her…

« I had made a covenant with my eyes, and I would not have looked at a virgin (Job, 31:1): Job would not have looked at a woman who was not his, says Rabbah, but Abraham did not even look at his own wife, since it is written, « Behold, I know that you are a beautiful woman (Gen. 12:11): until then he did not know it. » x

From another point of view, if someone is really beautiful, it can be detrimental, even deadly.

The very handsome rabbi R. Johanan reported: « From the river Echel to Rabath stretches the valley of Dura, and among the Israelites whom Nebuchadnezzar exiled there were young men whose radiant beauty eclipsed the sun. Their very sight alone made the women of Chaldea sick with desire. They confessed it to their husbands. The husbands informed the king who had them executed. But the women continued to languish. So the king had the bodies of young men crushed.» xi

In those days, the rabbis themselves did not hide their appreciation of the beauty of women :

« Rabbi Simon b. Gamaliel was on the steps of the Temple Hill when he saw a pagan woman of great beauty. How great are your works, O LORD! (Ps. 104:24) he exclaimed. Likewise, when R. Akiba saw Turnus Rufus’ wifexii, he spat, laughed, and wept. He spat because she came from a stinking drop; he laughed because she was destined to convert and become his wife; and he wept [thinking] that such beauty would one day be under the earth. » xiii

That Rabbi Akiba dreamt of converting and seducing the wife of the Roman governor of Judea can be attributed to militant proselytizing.

Or was it just a parable?

Why did Rabbi Akiba mourn the beauty of this pagan?

Shouldn’t the beauty of her « converted » soul have obliterated forever the beauty of her body, destined moreover to be buried some day?


iEmmanuel Kant. Criticism of the faculty of judgment.

iiIsaiah, 53.2

iiiIsaiah, 42, 6

ivIsaiah, 42.4

vIsaiah, 42.1

viIsaiah 53:3-4

viiAggadoth of the Babylonian Talmud. Baba Metsi’a. §34. Translated by Arlette Elkaïm-Sartre. Ed. Verdier. 1982, p.895.


ixIbid. §35, pp. 895-896.

xIbid. Baba Bathra. §37, p. 940.

xiIbid. Sanhedrin. §143. p.1081.

xiiRoman governor of Judea in the first century of the Christian era.

xiiiIbid ‘Avoda Zara. §34, p. 1234

The Equivocal Qur’an

The 7th verse of the 3rd Sura of the Qur’an offers one hell of an enigma, opening up a flood of comments.

« It is He who has sent down the Book to you, there are unequivocal verses in it. (ءَايَتُ مُّحْكَمَتُ ), which are the mother of the Book, and other equivocal ones (مُتَشَبِهَتُ ). People who have an inclination to straying in their hearts, put the emphasis on the equivocal verses, seeking dissension by trying to find an interpretation for them, when no one knows the interpretation, except God and men of a deep science. They say, ‘We believe: all things come from our Lord’, but only men of understanding remember them.» i

The word « unequivocal » translates the adjective مُّحْكَمَتُ, coming from the verbal root حَكَمَ « to judge, to decide ». The word « equivocal » translates the adjective مُتَشَبِهَتُ . But this adjective may have other meanings : « doubtful, ambiguous, uncertain, suspicious ».

It is really not common, for a revealed text such as the Quran, to challenge itself directly, by claiming that Quranic verses can be « equivocal » or even « dubious, suspicious » – as the word مُتَشَبِهَتُ implies.

There is another question, perhaps an even deeper one, which has fascinated such eminent philosophers as Averroes or Ghazzali: is this verse 3:7 itself equivocal or not?

Indeed, there are two very different ways of reading its second sentence, thus producing a real equivocation as to its true meaning.

The first reading, which has just been given, suggests that philosophers and men of profound science can decipher the obscure allusions and secret knowledge that the text conceals, and come closer to its true interpretation, the one that God knows.

But if the end of the sentence is marked just after « except God », – as the lack of punctuation marks in Arabic allows –, the text then reads:

« No one knows the interpretation, except God. But men of deep science say: ‘We believe in it’…etc. ».

This second reading brings the « men of deep science » back to a radical modesty. They are granted only the possibility of conceiving the existence of these allusions and their potential secrets from a distance, but without being able to grasp them, to explain them, to understand them. Philosophers and men of science are reduced to measuring their ignorance and the absolute transcendence of God.

In this second interpretation, philosophers and scientists would therefore be held silent on all equivocal verses, including verse 3:7, – which deals with the existence of equivocal verses in the Qur’an in an equivocal manner.

They must renounce the apparent superiority of their science of interpretation, not so much out of humility, but because they have to admit their radical limits with regard to the transcendence of the revealed text.

Averroes addressed this delicate issue in his Decisive Treatise.

He takes a clear stand for the first reading: « We opt, for our part, for the reading that consists of pausing after the words:  »and men of deep science ».»ii

In so doing, it supports the cause of philosophers, recognizing the freedom of scholarly analysis, and the benefit of seeking to reconcile science and belief, reason and faith.

He makes a thorough analysis of the various levels of meaning to be found in the Qur’an, and the precautions to be taken in this regard. Only philosophers and men of science can be brought to discuss this subject, far from the unlearned ears of common people and crowds. « True interpretations [of revealed statements] should not be written down in books for the masses, let alone those that are flawed.» iii

Revelation, perhaps a little paradoxically, is not always clear; it does not reveal everything and there are many things that continues to keep hidden.

« We know from the tradition of their words that many figures of the first age of Islam believed that the Revelation includes the apparent and the hidden (ظاهِرأوَباطِنأ , zāhiran wa bātinan), and that the hidden should not be known by those who are not men who possess the science of it and who would be incapable of understanding it. Proof of this, the sayning of ‘Ali ben Abi Tālib – reported by al-Boukhāri – God be pleased with him: ‘Speak to men about what they know. Do you want to tax Allah and His Prophet with a lie?’, and similar words that are reported from many other pious elders. » iv

There is a radical difference between « clear » verses, which often deal with practical religious issues, around which it has been easy since the earliest ages of Islam to form a consensus and then to conform to it, and « equivocal » verses, which raise theoretical questions, which in themselves offer no possibility of consensus.

Consequently, Averroes judged, like many others before him, that the interpretation of these verses should not be made public. « No era has been short of scholars who felt that the Revelation contains certain things whose true meaning should not be known by everyone.»v

If consensus is not conceivable in these theoretical matters, the consequence is that one cannot call it ‘infidelity’ either if one breaks the consensus on this or that interpretation.

But not everyone is as broad-minded as Averroes:

« What about Muslim philosophers, such as Abū Nașr (al-Fārābī) and Ibn Sinā (Avicenna)? Abū Hamid [Ghazali], in his book known as Incoherence of Philosophers, however, categorically concluded that they were unfaithful to three questions.» vi

(These three famous and unresolved questions were the issue of the eternity of the world, the assertion according to which God does not know the particulars, and the theses of the ressurection of the flesh and future life.)

Averroes concludes that it is better to keep secrecy about philosophical research and interpretations of the Qur’anic text. And this for a very good reason :

« It is because of the interpretations, and because of the opinion that these should, from the point of view of the revealed Law, be exposed to everyone, that the sects of Islam appeared, which came to the point of accusing each other of infidelity or blameworthy innovation, especially those of them that were perverse. The Mu’tazilites interpreted many of the prophetic verses and traditions, and exposed these interpretations to the crowd, and so did the Ash’arites, although the latter interpreted less. As a result, they precipitated people into hatred, mutual abhorrence and wars, tore the Revelation to pieces and completely divided people. » vii

One may say ‘Yes’ to science, therefore, ‘Yes’ to philosophy, ‘Yes’ to making an effort to interpret the Qur’an, in its most ambiguous, opaque, uncertain verses. But it’s an absolute ‘No’, as for communicating the results to the people, to the crowd.

This would only lead to hatred, division and wars…

Is truth equivocal? Should it be kept secret?

Averroes, unequivocally, answered « yes » to these questions.


iQur’an, 3.7

iiAverroes. Decisive Treatise. § 28

iiiIbid. §63

ivAverroes. Decisive Treatise. § 26

vAverroes. Decisive Treatise. § 26

viAverroes. Decisive Treatise§ 27

viiIbid. §64

La peur de la peur

Tout le monde a peur.

Le gouvernement a peur (de disparaître aux prochaines élections). Il a peur parce qu’il pense que le peuple a peur (de mourir du Covid, ou de quelque autre catastrophe diffuse, en gésine, liée à l’état de la planète, ou suite aux turbulences prévisibles qui résulteront de la fin annoncée d’un modèle de développement, et de l’implosion de la société).

Le gouvernement a peur du peuple, car il sait que sa gestion de la crise est très en-dessous de ce que le peuple était en droit d’attendre. Il a peur de sa peur et surtout de sa réaction en cas d’aggravation des contradictions entre diverses politiques de plus en plus incompatibles (santé, société, économie, sécurité, éthique, migration, liberté, vie privée, démocratie…).

Le peuple a peur, parce qu’il voit que le gouvernement ne maîtrise rien, mais est, depuis plus d’un an, en fuite constante devant l’orage pandémique, gérant mal des urgences successives, inexplicables, calamiteuses (des masques introuvables au début de la pandémie, aux centaines de millions de doses de vaccin dûment payées mais non fournies par le Big Pharma).

Le peuple a peur, parce qu’il voit que, devant une crise relativement mineure comme celle de la pandémie, le gouvernement a montré toutes ses limites et ses incompétences.

Le peuple a peur parce qu’il pressent que lors de l’explosion (probable) de prochaines crises, qui seront réellement des crises majeures, existentielles, et qui s’annoncent déjà, le gouvernement sera sans doute encore plus incompétent, pusillanime, désordonné, mais qu’il deviendra, alors, d’autant plus autoritaire, répressif et fascisant, parce qu’il lui faudra cacher sa peur, ou bien laisser la place à l’anarchie et à la violence.

La pandémie du Covid est une crise à la fois mineure et gravissime.

Elle est mineure parce qu’elle risque de se traduire par (seulement!) quelques millions de morts à l’échelle de l’humanité, alors que la crise climatique ainsi que la tragédie de la disparition progressive de millions d’espèces vivantes indispensables à l’avenir de la vie commune sur Terre, risquent de se traduire par des centaines de millions de morts, voire des milliards, à l’horizon de la fin du siècle actuel.

Elle est gravissime parce qu’elle montre crûment l’état d’impréparation du gouvernement pour traiter une crise sanitaire annoncée comme possible, et même latente, depuis des décennies, avec nombre d’alertes récentes, qui auraient dû déclencher une réponse globale et préventivei. Elle est gravissime parce qu’elle montre crûment que le gouvernement sera encore bien plus désarmé pour traiter du désastre écologique et systémique qui se prépare.

Que faire ? Il faut changer complètement de modèle de vie, de modèle du pouvoir et de modèle du monde. Vaste programme, dire-t-on sans doute. En effet. Aux grands maux, les grands remèdes.

Wittgenstein a écrit en 1930 une phrase profonde et prémonitoire : « L’homme et sans doute les peuples doivent s’éveiller à l’étonnement. La science est un moyen de les faire se rendormir. »ii

Est-ce que la science (qui, entre parenthèses, a montré sa capacité d’adaptation et d’invention en multipliant les succès décisifs dans sa recherche d’un vaccin contre le Covid) est censée mettre un terme à la peur généralisée qui couve (celle du gouvernement et celle du peuple) ?

La peur a semblé un moment être conjurée, lorsque des annonces tonitruantes ont été faites par le Big Pharma quant à l’efficacité des vaccins Pfizer, Moderna ou AstraZeneca. Puis une autre peur s’est instillée en Europe, celle de ne pas être livrée dans les temps contractuels, celle d’être victime de manipulations commerciales ou autres…

Wittgenstein avait aussi affirmé que la science ne pourrait pas protéger les peuples de leur peur profonde, viscérale, ontologique. « Il n’est pas exclu que des peuples très civilisés soient de nouveau enclins à cette même peur [que celle de certaines tribus primitives devant la nature], et leur culture comme la connaissance scientifique ne peuvent les en protéger. »iii

Nous y voilà. La science ne représente pas le summum de la pensée humaine. Il est possible que la voix des philosophes, ou des sages, portent beaucoup plus loin que celle, par exemple, du président d’AstraZeneca, qui semble fort peu effarouché de s’en prendre à lui tout seul au bloc de l’Union européenne, qui l’a pourtant inondé de commandes…

Il est fort possible que le temps soit venu pour changer le modèle politique et philosophique qui gouverne un monde placé sur une trajectoire catastrophique, et semblant inconscient de sa fin proche.

Il ne suffit pas, aujourd’hui, de dire : « N’ayez pas peur ! »…

Il faut montrer l’exemple.

Politiquement, socialement, économiquement, intellectuellement, philosophiquement, spirituellement.


iUne réponse préventive et globale que l’OMS était bien incapable d’assumer en tant que tel, vu l’état de déshérence des systèmes intergouvernementaux placés sous l’égide de l’ONU, du fait d’une volonté systématique des principaux États financeurs de les affaiblir.

iiL. Wittgenstein, Werkausgabe, vol. 8, Francfort/M., Suhrkamp, 1984, p.457


Agni Alive

Etymology goes back further to the dawn of thought, much further than archaeology or paleography.

The root of the oldest words is all that remains of time that no memory can imagine. These roots are the minute, ineffaceable traces of what was once pure intuition, radiant knowledge, sudden revelation, for singular men and moving crowds.

The ancient roots, still alive, like verbal souls, speak to us of a vanished world.

Among the most powerful roots are those that inform the names of the Gods.

In the Veda, Agni is said to be « Fire ».

But the truly original, etymological meaning of the word « agni » is not « fire », it is « alive », and « agile ».

The idea of « fire » is only a derivation from this primeval sense. The oldest intuitions associated with the word « agni » then are « life » and « movement », as opposed to « rest » and « death ».

The divine Agni, had indeed many other names, to tell of his other qualities: Atithi, Anala, Dahana, Vasu, Bharata, Mātariśvā, Vaiśvānara, Śoṣaṇa, Havyavah, Hutabhuk…

Agni’s names all have a distinct, specific meaning. Atithi is « Host », Anala is « Longevity », Dahana is « Burning », Tanūnapāt : « Self-Generated », Apāṃnapāt : « from the waters ».

So many attributes for such a hidden God!

« Two mothers of a different color and walking quickly, each giving birth to an infant. From the breast of one is born Hari [yet another name of Agni], honored by libations; from the breast of the other is born Soucra (the Sun), with a bright flame ». i

Agni is indeed « visible », He was born as a child, – but very clever, very wise is whoever can really « see » Him !

« Which of you has seen Him, when He is hiding? As an infant just now, there He is who, by the virtue of sacrifice, now gives birth to His own mothers. Thus Agni, great and wise, honored by our libations, generates the rain of the cloud, and is reborn in the bosom of deeds.» ii

Agni is everywhere. Agni is not only « alive », « agile », He is not only « Fire », not only « God ».

He is also the flickering glow, the sparkling lightning, the blazing forest, the fatal lightning, the evening sun, the pink dawn, the inflexible flint, the warmth of the body, the embers of love…

To understand the Veda, it helps to be a poet, to expand one´s mind to the universe, and even farther away.

iRigVeda 1,7,1,1.

iiRigVeda 1,7,1,4.

The Murder of Moses

John Everett Millais‘ Victory O Lord! (1871)

« All men are either Jews or Hellenes; either they are driven by ascetic impulses which lead them to reject all pictorial representation and to sacrifice to sublimation, or they are distinguished by their serenity, their expansive naturalness and their realistic spirit, » wrote Heinrich Heinei.

The over-schematic and somewhat outrageous nature of this statement may surprise in the mouth of the « last of the Romantic poets ».

But, according to Jan Assmann, Heine here would only symbolize the opposition between two human types, each of them holding on to two world visions, one valuing the spirit, without seeking a direct relationship with material reality, and the other valuing above all the senses and the concrete world.

In any case, when Heinrich Heine wrote these words at the beginning of the 19th century, this clear-cut opposition between « Hebraism » and « Hellenism » could be seen as a kind of commonplace “cliché” in the Weltanschauung then active in Germany.

Other considerations fueled this polarization. A kind of fresh wind seemed to be blowing on the European intellectual scene following the recent discovery of Sanskrit, followed by the realization of the historical depth of the Vedic heritage, and the exhumation of evidence of a linguistic filiation between the ‘Indo-European’ languages.

All this supported the thesis of the existence of multi-millennia migrations covering vast territories, notably from Northern Europe to Central Asia, India and Iran.

There was a passionate search for a common European origin, described in Germany as ‘Indo-Germanic’ and in France or Britain as ‘Indo-European’, taking advantage as much as possible of the lessons of comparative linguistics, the psychology of peoples and various mythical, religious and cultural sources.

Heine considered the opposition between « Semitic » and « Aryan » culture as essential. For him, it was a question not only of opposing « Aryans » and « Semites », but of perceiving « a more general opposition that concerned ‘all men’, the opposition between the mind, which is not directly related to the world or distant from it, and the senses, which are linked to the world. The first inclination, says Heine (rather simplistically, I must say), men get it from the Jews, the second, they inherited it from the Greeks, so that henceforth two souls live in the same bosom, a Jewish soul and a Greek soul, one taking precedence over the other depending on the case.» ii

A century later, Freud thought something comparable, according to Jan Assmann. « For him, too, the specifically Jewish contribution to human history lay in the drive toward what he called « progress in the life of the spirit. This progress is to the psychic history of humanity what Freud calls ‘sublimation’ in the individual psychic life.”iii

For Freud, the monotheistic invention consisted « in a refusal of magic and mysticism, in encouraging progress in the life of the spirit, and in encouraging sublimation ». It was a process by which « the people, animated by the possession of truth, penetrated by the consciousness of election, came to set great store by intellectual things and to emphasize ethics »iv.

This would be the great contribution of « Judaism » to the history of the world.

At the same time, however, Freud developed a particularly daring and provocative thesis about the « invention » of monotheism. According to him, Moses was not a Hebrew, he was Egyptian; moreover, and most importantly, he did not die in the land of Moab, as the Bible reports, but was in fact murdered by his own people.

Freud’s argument is based on the unmistakably Egyptian name ‘Moses’, the legend of his childhood, and Moses’ « difficult speech, » an indication that he was not proficient in Hebrew. Indeed, he could communicate only through Aaron. In addition, there are some revealing quotations, according to Freud: « What will I do for this people? A little more and they will stone me! « (Ex. 17:4) and : « The whole community was talking about [Moses and Aaron] stoning them. » (Numbers 14:10).

There is also that chapter of Isaiah in which Freud distinguishes the « repressed » trace of the fate actually reserved for Moses: « An object of contempt, abandoned by men, a man of sorrow, familiar with suffering, like one before whom one hides his face, despised, we took no notice of him. But it was our sufferings that he bore and our pains that he was burdened with. And we saw him as punished, struck by God and humiliated. But he was pierced because of our crimes, crushed because of our faults. « (Is. 53:3-5)

Freud infers from all these clues that Moses was in fact murdered by the Jews after they revolted against the unbearable demands of the Mosaic religion. He adds that the killing of Moses by the Jews marked the end of the system of the primitive horde and polytheism, and thus resulted in the effective and lasting foundation of monotheism.

The murder of the « father », which was – deeply – repressed in Jewish consciousness, became part of an « archaic heritage », which « encompasses not only provisions but also contents, mnemonic traces relating to the life of previous generations. (…) If we admit the preservation of such mnemonic traces in the archaic heritage, we have bridged the gap between individual psychology and the psychology of the masses, we can treat people as the neurotic individual.”v

The repression is not simply cultural or psychological, it affects the long memory of peoples, through « mnemonic traces » that are inscribed in the depths of souls, and perhaps even in the biology of bodies, in their DNA.

The important thing is that it is from this repression that a « decisive progress in the life of the spirit » has been able to emerge, according to Freud. This « decisive progress », triggered by the murder of Moses, was also encouraged by the ban on mosaic images.

« Among the prescriptions of the religion of Moses, there is one that is more meaningful than is at first thought. It is the prohibition to make an image of God, and therefore the obligation to worship a God who cannot be seen. We suppose that on this point Moses surpassed in rigor the religion of Aten; perhaps he only wanted to be consistent – his God had neither name nor face -; perhaps it was a new measure against the illicit practices of magic. But if one admitted this prohibition, it necessarily had to have an in-depth action. It meant, in fact, a withdrawal of the sensory perception in favor of a representation that should be called abstract, a triumph of the life of the mind over the sensory life, strictly speaking a renunciation of impulses with its necessary consequences on the psychological level.”vi

If Judaism represents a « decisive progress » in the life of the spirit, what can we think of the specific contribution of Christianity in this regard?

Further progress in the march of the spirit? Or, on the contrary, regression?

Freud’s judgment of the Christian religion is very negative.

« We have already said that the Christian ceremony of Holy Communion, in which the believer incorporates the Saviour’s flesh and blood, repeats in its content the ancient totemic meal, certainly only in its sense of tenderness, which expresses veneration, not in its aggressive sense ».vii

For him, « this religion constitutes a clear regression in the life of the spirit, since it is marked by a return to magical images and rites, and in particular to the sacrificial rite of the totemic meal during which God himself is consumed by the community of believers.”viii

Freud’s blunt condemnation of Christianity is accompanied by a kind of contempt for the « lower human masses » who have adopted this religion.

« In many respects, the new religion constituted a cultural regression in relation to the old, Jewish religion, as is regularly the case when new, lower-level human masses enter or are admitted somewhere. The Christian religion did not maintain the degree of spiritualization to which Judaism had risen. It was no longer strictly monotheistic, it adopted many of the symbolic rites of the surrounding peoples, it restored the great mother goddess and found room for a large number of polytheistic deities, recognizable under their veils, albeit reduced to a subordinate position. Above all it did not close itself, like the religion of Aten and the Mosaic religion which followed it, to the intrusion of superstitious magic and mystical elements, which were to represent a serious inhibition for the spiritual development of the next two millennia.”ix

If one adopts a viewpoint internal to Christianity, however hurtful Freud’s attacks may be, they do not stand up to analysis. In spite of all the folklore from which popular religiosity is not exempt, Christian theology is clear: there is only one God. The Trinity, difficult to understand, one can admit, for non-Christians as well as for Christians, does not imply « three Gods », but only one God, who gives Himself to be seen and understood in three « Persons ».

To take a cross-comparison, one could infer that Judaism is not « strictly monotheistic » either, if one recalls that the Scriptures attest that « three men » (who were YHVH) appeared to Abraham under the oak tree of Mamre (Gen 18:1-3), or that the Word of God was « incarnated » in the six hundred thousand signs of the Torah, or that God left in the world His own « Shekhinah » .

From the point of view of Christianity, everything happens as if Isaiah chapter 53, which Freud applied to Moses, could also be applied to the figure of Jesus.

It is the absolutely paradoxical and scandalous idea (from the point of view of Judaism) that the Messiah could appear not as a triumphant man, crushing the Romans, but as « an object of contempt, abandoned by men, a man of sorrow, familiar with suffering, like someone before whom one hides one’s face, despised. »

But what is, now, the most scandalous thing for the Jewish conscience?

Is it Freud’s hypothesis that Isaiah’s words about a « man of sorrow », « despised », indicate that the Jews murdered Moses?

Or is it that these same Isaiah’s words announce the Christian thesis that the Messiah had to die like a slave, under the lazzis and spittle?

If Freud is wrong and Moses was not murdered by the Jews, it cannot be denied that a certain Jesus was indeed put to death under Pontius Pilate. And then one may be struck by the resonance of these words uttered by Isaiah seven centuries before: « Now it is our sufferings that he bore and our sorrows that he was burdened with. And we considered him punished, struck by God and humiliated. But he was pierced because of our crimes, crushed because of our faults. « (Is. 53:4-5)

There is obviously no proof, from the Jewish point of view, that these words of Isaiah apply to Jesus, — or to Moses.

If Isaiah’s words do not apply to Moses (in retrospect) nor to Jesus (prophetically), who do they apply to? Are they only general, abstract formulas, without historical content? Or do they refer to some future Messiah? Then, how many more millennia must Isaiah’s voice wait before it reaches its truth?

History, we know, has only just begun.

Human phylum, if it does not throw itself unexpectedly into nothingness, taking with it its planet of origin, still has (roughly) a few tens of millions of years of phylogenetic « development » ahead of it.

To accomplish what?

One may answer: to rise ever more in consciousness.

Or to accomplish still unimaginable « decisive progress »…

With time, the millennia will pass.

Will Isaiah’s words pass?

What is mankind already capable of?

What will be the nature of the « decisive progress » of the human spirit, which has yet to be accomplished, and which still holds itself in the potency to become?

It is necessary to prepare for it. We must always set to work, in the dark, in what seems like a desert of stone, salt and sand.

For example, it would be, it seems to me, a kind of « decisive » progress to “see” in the figure of Moses « put to death » by his own people, and in that of Christ « put on the cross », the very figure of the Sacrifice.

What Sacrifice?

The original Sacrifice, granted from before the creation of the world by the Creator God, the « Lord of Creatures » (that One and Supreme God whom the Veda already called « Prajāpati » six thousand years ago).

It would also, it seems to me, be another kind of « decisive » progress to begin to sense some of the anthropological consequences of the original « Sacrifice » of the supreme God, the « Lord of Creatures ».

Among them, the future of the « religions » on the surface of such a small, negligible planet (Earth): their necessary movement of convergence towards a religion of Humanity and of the World, a religion of the conscience of the Sacrifice of God, a religion of the conscience of Man, in the emptiness of the Cosmos.

iHeinrich Heine. Ludwig Börne. Le Cerf. Paris, 1993

iiJan Assmann. Le prix du monothéisme. Flammarion, Paris 2007, p. 142

iiiIbid. p. 143

ivSigmund Freud, L’Homme Moïse et la Religion monothéiste, traduit de l’allemand par Cornelius Heim, Paris, Gallimard, 1993, p.177, cité par J. Assmann, op.cit. p.144

vIbid. p.196

viIbid. p.211-212

viiIbid. p.173 et 179

viiiJan Assmann. Le prix du monothéisme. Flammarion, Paris 2007, p. 163

ixSigmund Freud, L’Homme Moïse, p.211-212

« Axe du mal » et « communs mondiaux »

« New York. 11 septembre 2001 »

Les attentats du 11 septembre 2001 ont provoqué la mort de 2 977 personnes. En réaction, les États-Unis ont déclenché plusieurs guerres faisant des centaines de milliers de victimes et de considérables dégâts collatéraux.

Le Covid fait actuellement aux États-Unis plus de 4000 morts par jour. Quelle a été la réaction du gouvernement américain ? Une guerre contre la pandémie ? Certes non. Plutôt: déni, laxisme, fake news et émeutes de petits blancs suprématistes, financées par des poches profondes, et conçues par des réseaux complotistes.

Il a fallu attendre Biden, pour que des mesures de bon sens soient prises, le premier jour de son accession à la présidence, et cela plus d´une année après le début de la pandémie.

Le mensonge général, le marécage idéologique, la dénégation de la réalité et l´hypocrisie foncière prévalant au sein du parti Républicain ont façonné une ´réalité virtuelle ´ dont les Américains sont loin d´être sortis.

Il y a 20 ans, moins de 3000 morts en une seule et unique journée, suivie de 20 ans de guerres et de souffrances au Moyen-Orient, contre un supposé « axe du mal ».

Aujourd’hui: plus de 4000 morts par jour aux États-Unis, depuis des semaines, pour un total provisoire dépassant les 400.000 morts, du fait de l’incompétence et des choix idéologiques d’un gouvernement factieux, fuyant toutes ses responsabilités sanitaires, et contribuant à aggraver la pandémie et son taux de mortalité. Le « mal » (au sens propre) et la mort rodent de par le pays qui s’auto-proclame le « plus puissant du monde ».

Mais, fait gênant, il n´y a maintenant aucun pays-bouc-émissaire (sauf peut-être l´Iran? ou la Chine?) où pouvoir, par manière de diversion, déclencher une guerre punitive, et déployer comme en une sorte d’exutoire une ire guerrière, sanguinaire, et fort rentable, puisque les véritables responsables étaient jusqu’il y a peu au sommet même de l’Etat américain…

Désormais, la perspective d’une nouvelle guerre civile, américano-américaine, est plus qu’envisageable. Elle est déjà en cours. Elle sera longue, cruelle. La victoire, au rasoir, de Biden, quoique porteuse d’espoir, ne préjuge en rien de l’avenir. Elle semble d’ailleurs fragile et provisoire. Rendez-vous aux prochaines élections en 2023, à mi-mandat (midterm elections).

Un peu moins de la moitié des électeurs américains ont voté Trump en novembre 2020. La majorité démocrate au Sénat a été obtenue à l’arraché, d’extrême justesse.

Mais le plus grave et le plus inquiétant pour l’avenir, c’est que 70% des électeurs républicains sont absolument persuadés que le résultat des élections présidentielles a été truqué.

Que tout cela soit aujourd’hui possible dans le pays censé incarner la démocratie est glaçant.

La démocratie est partout en danger. En Europe aussi. Les ingrédients explosifs et les tensions s’accumulent, contribuant à un effondrement progressif du consensus démocratique et à la montée corrélative d’un néo-fascisme et d’un bio-fascisme, d’autant plus terrifiants qu’ils feront un usage démultiplié du contrôle social « total », par le moyen du Big Data, désormais secondé par le Big Pharma, le Big Oil et le Big Agro Biz.

Le contrôle social « total » montre encore patte blanche, — mais combien de temps encore, avant qu’il sorte les griffes, et les crocs, et la haine ?

On devra bientôt peut-être être en possession d’un bio-passeport intérieur, comme dans la Russie des Tsars pour pouvoir circuler.

Il y a 20 ans la guerre contre « l’axe du mal » était proclamée, avec les résultats que l’on sait.

Aujourd’hui, c’est la « guerre » contre le Covid qui a été mondialement proclamée. Le « Mal » et la « mort » rodent dans nos rues et dans nos campagnes.

Mais c’est une guerre sélective. On a oublié de partir en guerre contre le Big Agro Biz qui tue nos abeilles, et anéantit la bio-diversité mondiale.

Résultat de cette « guerre »: en quelque mois seulement, des profits inimaginables pour le Big Data (les GAFA et les quelques multi-milliardaires qui les contrôlent) et pour le Big Pharma. Plus, cerise sur le gâteau, un conditionnement général de la population à l’embrigadement massif, et une médiatisation mondiale du Bio-Politique.

Cela ne peut se laisser faire sans qu’une résistance s’organise.

Une résistance au data-fascisme, une résistance au bio-fascisme.

Premier axe de réflexion à nourrir d’urgence: la proclamation d’un « commun mondial » des Data, d’un « commun mondial » de la Santé humaine et animale, et d’un « commun mondial » de la Biodiversité.

Une première action concrète: définir d’urgence un impôt mondial sur les GAFA, sur le Big Oil, sur le Big Agro Biz et sur le Big Pharma, dont les produits financiers seront répartis mondialement par un Comité des sages (régi par l’ONU ?), pour lutter contre les inégalités mondiales dans toutes leurs dimensions (économiques, sociales, politiques, techniques, …).

Deuxième action: fonder un « Mouvement Mondial », rassemblant toutes les forces locales, nationales et supra-nationales, capable de défendre le bon usage des « communs mondiaux » , de les protéger et de concevoir la politique et la philosophie de leur gestion durable dans l’intérêt supérieur de la planète tout entière.

Utopisme naïf?

Que non! Réalisme absolu, nécessaire, urgentissime!…


P.S. Je suis ouvert à toutes les suggestions constructives …

Ripping God to Shreds

« Orpheus ripped to shreds by the Maenads », Pierre-Marcel Béronneau, 1895.

To the sound of cymbals and flutes, to the light of torches, disheveled women dance. They are the bacchae. Dressed in fox skins, wearing horns on their heads, holding snakes in their hands, seized by a « sacred madness, » they rush on animals chosen for sacrifice, tear them to pieces, tear them to pieces, and devour the bloody flesh raw.

These bacchanals — or Dionysian feasts, have fascinated the ancients for centuries.

« The bacchanals celebrate the mystery of angry Dionysus, leading the sacred madness to the ingestion of raw flesh, and they perform the absorption of the flesh of the massacres, crowned with snakes, and crying out ‘Evoha !’»i.

What did it mean? The myth reports that Dionysus Zagreus, son of Zeus and Persephone, had taken the form of a young bull to try to escape his pursuers. But he was caught, torn and devoured by the Titans, enemies of Zeus.

In Thrace, this god is called Sabos or Sabazios, and in Phrygia it is called Cybele.

It is in Thrace that initially, between the 8th and 7th centuries BC, these cults of divine madness and ecstatic dancing, culminating in the dismemberment of living flesh, and its bloody devotion, arose.

Historians of religion are inclined to detect in them, not a local phenomenon, but the symptom of a more universal movement originating in human nature, in its desire to establish a relationship with the divine.

« This Thracian orgiastic cult was merely the manifestation of a religious impulse which is emerging at all times and in all places throughout the earth, at all levels of civilization, and which, therefore, must derive from a deep need of man’s physical and psychic nature (…) And in every part of the earth, There are peoples who consider these exaltations as the true religious process, as the only way to establish a relationship between man and the spirit world, and who, for this reason, base their worship above all on the uses that experience has shown them to be most suitable for producing ecstasies and visions.”ii

Many peoples, on all continents, have had similar practices aimed at achieving ecstasy. The Ostiaks, the Dakotas, the Winnebagos, in North America, the Angeloks in Greenland, the Butios in the West Indies, the Piajes in the Caribbean, and many other peoples followed shamanic rites.

In Islam, the Sufis and the Whirling Dervishes know the power of ecstatic dance. Jalâl al-Dîn Rûmî testified: « He who knows the power of dance dwells in God, for he knows how Love kills. Allahu !”iii

The cult of « divine madness » and frenetic exaltation has also been recorded in « Christian bacchanals » in Russia, in the sect of « Christi », founded by a « holy man », named Philippoff, « in whose body God came one day to dwell and who from then on spoke and gave his laws as the living God.”iv

The Dionysian cult of drunkenness and divine ecstasy is closely related to the belief in the immortality of the soul, for many peoples, in all periods of short human history.

This belief is based not on dogmas or prophecies, but on an intimate experience, really and personally felt, by all those who actively participated in those nights of madness and ecstasy.

The link between the belief in the immortality of the soul and the devouring of pieces of the torn body probably appeared in the most ancient times.

As early as a remote era, going back more than eight hundred thousand years (if we take into account the dating of the remains found in the Chou-Kou-Tien caves), the cutting up of corpses was probably a way of definitively ensuring the death of the dead, a way of making them harmless forever, unable to return to earth to threaten the living.

But it was also, ipso facto, an indication of an ancient and diffuse belief in the survival of the soul, despite the evidence of the death of the body.

We will probably never know what Homo Sinanthropus thought of the spirit world. On the other hand, we do have myths of dismemberment attested throughout antiquity and throughout the world.

Orpheus, a divine hero, died torn apart and dismembered alive by mad Thracian women.

Agamemnon, murdered by his wife Clytemnestra, complains in the other world of the atrocious outrages she inflicted on him after killing him: « After my shameful death, she subjected me, out of malice, to maschalism.”v

Maschalism consists in symbolically mimicking the treatment of animal victims during sacrifices. The priests would cut off or tear off the animal’s limbs and offer them as first-fruits to the gods in the form of raw flesh.

The astonishing thing is that the murderers used this method for their own purification, to inflect the anger of the victims, and especially to make the dead person powerless to punish the murderer.

Consequently, they cut up the corpse of the victims, amputating or tearing off the arms and legs at their joints, and then forming a chain that they hung around the shoulders and armpits of the corpse.

There is a certain logic at work here. The dead man’s arms and legs are amputated so that his soul cannot grasp the weapons placed in front of his grave and come back to fight.

In Egypt, Osiris is killed and then cut into fourteen pieces by his brother Set. The body parts are thrown into the Nile and scattered throughout the country.

Let us note that the Osirian myth is replayed for all the deceased, at the time of embalming.

It is in Egypt that the cutting up of corpses took the most ritualized and elaborate form, using a battery of surgical, chemical, and magical methods, including dismemberment, maceration, mummification, cremation, and exposure of various body parts. The embalming ritual lasts seventy days.

« The brain is extracted through the nose, the viscera are removed through an incision made in the side; only the heart, swaddled, is put back in its place, while the organs are placed in « canopies », vases with lids in the shape of human or animal heads. The remaining soft parts and body fluids are dissolved by a solution of natron and resin and evacuated from the body rectally. This first phase takes place under the sign of purification. Everything that is « bad » is removed from the body, in other words everything that is perishable and can compromise the form of eternity that is the goal.”vi

In the ancient Egyptian religion, all these violent interventions around the dead and dislocated body were intended to make the dead person die, as it were, permanently. But they also facilitate the passage from death to eternal life after the embalming of the body and mummification, which is an essentially « magical » operation.

« Then begins the drying phase (dehydration and salting), which lasts about forty days. Reduced to skin and bones, the corpse will then be put back in shape during the mummification ritual; It is then that the skin is anointed with balsamic oils to restore its suppleness, stuffed with resins, gum arabic, fabrics, sawdust, straw and other materials, inlaid with fake eyes, cosmetics and wigs, and finally swaddled with strips of fine linen, partly inscribed with magical formulas and between which amulets are slipped. The result of all these operations is the mummy. The mummy is much more than a corpse: it is the figure of the god Osiris and a hieroglyphic representation of the whole human being, « full of magic, » as the Egyptians say.”vii

Then comes the time for words, prayers and invocations. « In Egyptian, this mortuary therapy by speech is expressed by a word that is fundamentally untranslatable, but which it is customary in Egyptology to render by « glorification » or « transfiguration ». The dead person is invoked by an uninterrupted stream of words (…) The dead person thus becomes a spirit endowed with power capable of surviving in many forms (…) Through the recitation of glorifications, the scattered limbs of the body are somehow brought together in a text that describes them as a new unity. »

The « glorification » and the « transfiguration » of the dead are reminiscent of those of Osiris. « It is the rites, images and texts that awaken Osiris and bring him back to life; it is with the help of symbolic forms that the dislocated dead is recomposed and that the border separating life and death, here below and beyond, is crossed. The mystery of this connectivity capable of triumphing over death, however, lies not in the symbolic forms, but in the love that puts them to work. Who performs the rites, pronounces the words and appears in images is anything but indifferent. It is first and foremost the affair of the goddess Isis, wife and twin sister of Osiris. On this point, the myth of Osiris and Isis corresponds moreover to that of Orpheus and Eurydice (…) For Isis, it is love which confers on her magical rites and recitations a force of cohesion able to supplement the inertia of the heart of Osiris and to bring the god back to life. The combination of love and speech is the strongest cohesive force known to Egyptians and at the same time the most powerful elixir of life.”viii

« Death of the god ». « Glorification ». « Transfiguration ». « Resurrection ». « Power of love. » It is difficult not to find in these themes possible parallels with the death and resurrection of Christ, even in certain details.

Christ’s last moments are described as follows: « As it was the Preparation, the Jews, in order to prevent the bodies from remaining on the cross during the Sabbath – for that Sabbath was a great day – asked Pilate to break their legs and take them away. So the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first, and then of the other who had been crucified with him. When they came to Jesus, when they saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs, but one of the soldiers pierced his side with his spear, and immediately blood and water came out of him. He who has seen bears witness, – his witness is true, and he knows that he speaks the truth – so that you too may believe. For this happened so that the Scripture might be fulfilled:

“Not a bone shall be broken to him.”ix

This word of Scripture is indeed found in the text of Exodus :

« YHVH said to Moses and Aaron, ‘This is the Passover ritual: no stranger shall eat of it. But any slave who has been bought for money, when you have circumcised him, may eat it. The resident and the hired servant shall not eat it. It will be eaten in one house, and you will not take any piece of meat out of that house. You shall not break any bones.”x

It must be hypothesized that the precept given to Moses by YHVH « not to break any bones » is a radical reversal of the « idolatrous » practices that were to be entirely abandoned. If the « pagan » priests were tearing off the limbs of animals, breaking bones and joints, one can think that Moses considered it useful to advocate a practice strictly contrary to this, in order to differentiate himself from it.

In contrast to the Egyptian cutting up of bodies, Dionysian dismemberment, or Greek maschalism, the members of Jesus’ body were left intact, so that the Scripture might be fulfilled.

On the eve of his death, however, Jesus symbolically shared his body and blood with his disciples at the Last Supper.

« As they were eating, Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to the disciples, saying, ‘Take and eat, this is my body. Then taking a cup, he gave thanks and gave it to them, saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood, the blood of the covenant, which is to be poured out for many for the remission of sins.”xi

Pagan practices consist in breaking the limbs of the victims who have been sacrificed and drinking their blood. Jesus breaks bread and drinks wine. This sacrifice is symbolic. But it is also a prefiguration of the real sacrifice that will take place, the very next day, on the cross.

The ancient shamanic sacrifices, the dismemberment of Osiris, the dilaceration of the body of Dionysus, the broken bread and the shared wine by Christ belong to very different cultures and spanning over several millennia.

But there is one thing in common: in all these cases, a God dies in sacrifice, and his remains are ‘shared’, ‘distributed’. Then the God is resurrected by the power of love and the word.

Given the striking analogy in these narrative patterns, we are led to make a hypothesis.

The hunting meal of the first hominids has been the beginning of religion since the dawn of time. It was during the chewing and eating of animal flesh that the idea of the permanence and transmission of the spirit attached to the bloody flesh insidiously came to haunt human consciences.

But then a conceptual leap, an incredible leap took place. It was imagined that the sacrificial victims were themselves only a distant image of the Supreme Sacrifice, that of God, the Lord of all creatures.

More than 6,000 years ago, in the great tradition of Veda, it was affirmed: « The Lord of creatures gives Himself to the gods as a sacrifice.”xii


iClement of Alexandria. Protrept. II, 12, 2

iiErwin Rohde. Psyché. Le culte de l’âme chez les Grecs et leur croyance à l’immortalité. Ed. Les Belles Lettres, Paris, 2017, p. 292

iiiIbid. p. 293 n.2

ivIbid. p. 293 n.2

vAeschylus. Choephori439. Quoted by Erwin Rohde. Psyché. Le culte de l’âme chez les Grecs et leur croyance à l’immortalité. Les Belles Lettres, 2017, p. 229.

viJan Assmann. Mort et au-delà dans l’Égypte ancienne. Ed. Du Rocher, 2003, p.59

viiIbid. p.60

viiiIbid. p.61

ixJn. 19, 31-36

xEx. 12, 43-46

xiMt. 26, 26-28

xiiTaņḍya-Mahā-Brāhmaņa 7.2.1

Ontologie quantique et pensée de l’impensé

Le corps humain est constitué d’organes, eux-mêmes composés de molécules et d’atomes, et en dernière analyse, de particules, lesquelles sont régies par les lois universelles de la mécanique quantique.

Le comportement dûment observé des particules quantiques offre d’intéressantes (et paradoxales) perspectives de réflexion philosophique. Ainsi le principe d’incertitude de Heisenberg impose des limites fondamentales à la mesure et à l’observation, comme lors de la saisie et de la détermination de la position et de la vitesse d’une particule. Plus mystérieuse encore, est la non-séparabilité de deux particules ayant interagi, et restant désormais « intriquées » quelle que soit la distance qui les sépare.

Mais l’une des thèses les plus audacieuses quant à ce qu’on pourrait appeler l’« ontologie » des particules quantiques, a été de poser qu’elles ont une forme de « proto-conscience ».

Selon David Bohm, les particules ont en effet une forme inhérente ou immanente de conscience («mentality »), qui provient de leurs interactions avec un champ de « potentiel quantique » (« quantum potential »).

« By virtue of their indivisible union with quantum fields, particles have an inherent (if primitive) form of mentality »i. [« Par la vertu de leur union indivisible avec les champs quantiques, les particules ont une forme inhérente (quoique primitive) de mentalité »].

Tout se passe comme si la particule était en quelque sorte « informée » de son environnement global par l’intermédiaire de son champ de potentiel quantique, qui lui donne ainsi une « perspective », à laquelle la particule peut répondre, d’une façon déterminée par l’équation de Schrödinger. La métaphore du champ d’« information » dans laquelle baigne la particule invite à une métaphore plus générale, celle d’une « proto-conscience » au sein de chaque particule, baignant dans son potentiel quantique.

L’ensemble des particules du cerveau humain forme donc un mélange (hautement complexe), une « superposition » d’états quantiques représentant un nombre vertigineux de particules en constante interaction, et pouvant par voie de conséquence être elles-mêmes intriquées avec d’autres particules potentiellement « localisées » (si l’on peut ainsi dire) dans l’univers entier.

Le cerveau forme donc une sorte de puissante « antenne », potentiellement en mesure de recevoir des « informations » provenant des innombrables champs de potentiel quantique de toutes les particules qui le composent, en tant qu’elles sont possiblement intriquées avec d’autres particules de l’univers.

Certaines de ces intrications de particules peuvent remonter à l’origine de l’univers, lors du Big Bang. D’autres peuvent dater de la dernière seconde du temps présent, quand notre regard a effleuré la lumière d’une étoile, ou lorsque notre joue a caressé l’aile du vent.

La métaphore du cerveau « antenne » évoque des images de puissantes stations d’observation astrophysique, fonctionnant dans diverses gammes d’ondes (visible, infra-rouge, ultra-violet, rayons X, gamma, etc.), et elle a un parfum (assez rétro) des années 50, quand le radar et la télévision ont commencé de façonner un nouveau rapport à l’espace.

Mais en réalité, la métaphore de l’intrication quantique des particules du cerveau (et des autres organes du corps humain) avec des myriades de particules de l’univers, est bien plus puissante que la métaphore de l’antenne. L’intrication quantique fait du corps humain tout entier un point d’intrication permanent, instantané, avec l’ensemble de l’univers.

Généralisons maintenant cette métaphore de l’intrication quantique en passant à une étape supérieure d’intrication, celle de la pensée et de la conscience.

Les processus de pensée (tous ceux, innombrables, qui restent inconscients ainsi que ceux, moins nombreux, qui aboutissent à la formation de la « conscience ») sont comparables au mélange de « superpositions d’états quantiques » auquel je faisais référence plus haut, dans l’analyse des états du cerveau et du corps quantiques.

Ce mélange, toujours singulier et toujours différent, en constante évolution, se renouvelle à chaque instant, et connecte ce vaste continent qu’est l’inconscient (individuel) avec l’inconscient (collectif) mais aussi, ipso facto, avec l’ensemble des particules (proto-conscientes) de l’univers…

L’analogie entre l’intrication « quantique » des particules du corps humain et l’intrication « symbolique » des pensées (inconscientes et conscientes) est profonde. Ce sont ces mélanges (de particules dans un cas, et d’idées ou de symboles dans l’autre) qui font la pensée et la conscience, qui les rendent possibles et qui les orientent vers ce qu’elles ne soupçonnent pas encore de pouvoir engendrer.

Je voudrais maintenant proposer d’établir un lien entre ces questions d’ontologie quantique et la manière dont l’ancienne philosophie pré-socratique aborde la question de la pensée et de la conscience. Cela nous amènera à affronter un autre ordre de complexité et de profondeur que celui couvert par la mécanique quantique.

Aristote, dans sa Métaphysique, cite un fragment d’un philosophe pré-socratique, le célèbre Parménide, par ailleurs réputé pour être parfaitement obscur, – une obscurité que la traduction suivante de la Bibliothèque de la Pléiade met en particulièrement en valeur:

Ὡς γὰρ ἕκαστος ἔχει κρᾶσιν
μελέων πολυπλάγκτων,
τὼς νόος ἀνθρώποισι
παρίσταται· τὸ γὰρ αὐτό
ἔστιν ὅπερ φρονέει μελέων
φύσις ἀνθρώποισιν
καὶ πᾶσιν καὶ παντί· τὸ γὰρ
πλέον ἐστι νόημα.

« Car tout, comme chacun, a son propre mélange,

Donnant leur qualité aux membres qui se meuvent,

De même l’intellect se rencontre chez l’homme.

Car la chose consciente et la substance

Dont nos membres sont faits, sont une même chose.

En chacun comme en tout : l’en-plus est la pensée. »ii

Quel jargon ! Que veut dire, par exemple, « l’en-plus est la pensée » ?

La traduction de ce même fragment par Jean Tricotiii est un peu plus limpide :

« Car, de même que, en tout temps, le mélange forme les membres souples [ou : errants]iv,

Ainsi se présente la pensée chez les hommes ; car c’est la même chose,

Que l’intelligence et que la nature des membres des hommes,

En tous les hommes et pour tout homme, car ce qui prédomine dans le corps fait la pensée. »v

Pour compléter l’arc des sens possibles, voici encore une autre traduction du même fragment, celle de Jean Bollack, parfois considérée comme une traduction de référence :

« Car tel le mélange que chacun possède de membres partout errants, tel le penser que les hommes ont à leur portée ; car c’est la même chose que pense la nature des membres chez les hommes, en tous et en chacun ; car c’est le plein qui est la pensée »vi.

Le ‘penser’, ou le noos, est un mélange, de membres, d’éléments, de parties. Tous ces membres, toutes ces parties, pensent aussi – indépendamment de leur résultante générale, laquelle constitue ce que Parménide appelle le « penser ». Ils pensent tous à ‘ce qui est’, – ils pensent tous ‘ce qui est’.

De cela on déduit que tout ce qui ‘est’, est ‘un’. Et aussi que tout ce qu’on ‘pense’ est ‘un’.

Tout ce qui pense et tout ce qui est pensé sont ‘un’.

Qu’on parte des choses ou des hommes, on en revient toujours à cet ‘un’.

Les choses dispersées, ou réunies, les choses absentes ou présentes, forment toutes ensemble cet ‘un’, – l’un de l’être.

Chaque homme a sa propre conscience ; chacun pense à ce qui la constitue, à ce qui est son essence (à ce qui est le fonds de son être), à ce qui remplit tout et tous.

Ce qui remplit, les Grecs nomment le « Plein ».

Quel est ce « Plein » ? En grec, le « Plein » se dit : τὸ πλέον (to pléon).

Le jeu de mot s’entend dans le grec ancien :

C’est l’Être même (to éon) qui est le Plein (to pléon).

Les hommes restent en général dans leur propre monde, dans leur Moi, dans leur esprit propre.

Mais il y a aussi des hommes qui cherchent ce qui est, au-delà des noms et des mots qui le cachent (ce qui est). Ceux-là peuvent « faire l’expérience d’un être qui unit pensée et choses [τὸ έον et τὸ πλέον, to éon et to pléon], et devenir sensibles au reflet de l’Être. »vii

La pensée, à défaut de contempler l’essence de l’Être, ou d’en percevoir la nature profonde, peut du moins tenter de saisir l’unité de tout ce qui y participe, c’est-à-dire de tout ce qui est.

Je cite enfin, pour être complet, une autre traduction encore du même passage, celle de Clémence Ramnoux, se distinguant par l’emploi du mot ‘membrure’ (mot qui connote le démembrement, source d’errance mais aussi fondateur de l’unité pensante, – dépassée par sa partition et son démembrement ?):

« Car selon que chacun tient le mélange de sa membrure errante,

Ainsi se manifeste pour les hommes la Pensée. Pour les hommes en effet,

Pour tous et pour chacun, c’est la même chose que la qualité de sa membrure

Et ce qu’il réalise en pensée. »viii

Pourquoi fais-je ce rapprochement entre l’intrication quantique, la pensée symbolique et le ‘Plein’ (ou, selon les traductions, ‘l’en-plus’, le ‘reflet de l’être’, ‘tout ce qui est’, ou encore ce que l’on ‘réalise’ en pensée) ?

Tous ces noms pointent vers la même réalité unique, totale, pleine.

Le ‘Plein’ ne laisse aucun vide. Il est pleinement total et totalement plein.

Et pourtant, ô paradoxe, il laisse place à la nouveauté radicale, à la pensée de l’encore impensé.


iAlexander Wendt. Quantum Mind and Social Science. Cambridge University Press, 2015, p. 88

iiParménide, fragment 16, cité par Aristote. Métaphysique, Γ, 5, 1009 b 21. Traduction Jean-Paul Dumont. Les Présocratiques. Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 1988, p.270

iiiAristote. La Métaphysique. Tome 1. Traduction de Jean Tricot. Librairie J. Vrin, 1981, p. 221

ivJean Tricot admet en note une autre traduction admissible : « membres errants », en remplaçant le mot πολυκάμπτον (« souples ») par le mot presque similaire πολυπλάγκτων (« errants », – comme du polyplancton), que l’on trouve dans la version fournie par Théophraste, (De Sens., 3, Doxograph., 499). Note 4, p. 221 in op. cit.

vAristote. La Métaphysique. Tome 1. Traduction de Jean Tricot. Librairie J. Vrin, 1981, p.221

viJean Bollack. Sur deux fragments de Parménide (4 et 16). In: Revue des Études Grecques, tome 70, fascicule 329-330, Janvier-juin 1957. pp. 56-71

viiJean Bollack, op. cit. p. 71

viiiClémence Ramnoux. Héraclite, ou l’homme entre les choses et les mots. Ed. Les Belles Lettres, Paris, 1968, p. 137

The Same Ancient and New Truth

« A Nag Hammadi Codex »

They all claim to bring « revelation », but no religion has ever presented total transparency, assumed full disclosure. Much of their foundation is shrouded in secrecy, and « the further back we go in religious history, the greater the role of secrecy”i .

But this secrecy should not be confused with mystery.

The mystery is deep, immense, alive.

The secret is useful and human. It is maintained on purpose, by the pythies, the shamans, the magi, the priests, the haruspices. It is used for control, it facilitates the construction of dogma, reinforces rites and the rigor of laws.

The mystery belongs to no one. It is not given to everyone to sense it, and even less to grasp its essence and nature.

The secret is put forward, proclaimed publicly, not in its content, but as a principle. It is therefore imposed on all and benefits a few.

To a certain extent, the secret is based (a little bit) on the existence of the mystery. One is the appearance of the reality of the other.

This is why the secret, through its signs, can sometimes nourish the sense of mystery, give it a presence.

The secret can remain such for a long time, but one day it is discovered for what it is, and we see that it was not much, in view of the mystery. Or, quite simply, it is lost forever, in indifference, without much damage to anyone.

The mystery, on the other hand, always stands back, or very much in the front, really elsewhere, absolutely other. It’s never finished with it.

Of the mystery what can we know?

A divine truth comes to be « revealed », but it also comes « veiled ».

« Truth did not come naked into the world, but it came dressed in symbols and images. The world will not receive it in any other way.”ii

Truth never comes « naked » into the world.

At least, that is what sarcastic, wily common sense guarantees.

God cannot be « seen », and even less « naked »…

« How could I believe in a supreme god who would enter a woman’s womb through her sexual organs […] without necessity? How could I believe in a living God who was born of a woman, without knowledge or intelligence, without distinguishing His right from His left, who defecates and urinates, sucks His mother’s breasts with hunger and thirst, and who, if His mother did not feed Him, would die of hunger like the rest of men?”iii

Rigorous reasoning. Realism of the details.

Yehoshua, the Messiah? « It is impossible for me to believe in his being the Messiah, for the prophecy says of the Messiah, ‘He shall have dominion from sea to sea and from the river to the ends of the earth’ (Psalm 72:8). But Jesus had no reign at all; on the contrary, he was persecuted by his enemies and had to hide from them: in the end he fell into their hands and could not even preserve his own life. How could he have saved Israel? Even after his death he had no kingdom… At present, the servants of Muhammad, your enemies, have a power greater than yours. Moreover, prophecy foretells that in the time of the Messiah … ‘the knowledge of YHVH will fill the earth as the waters cover the sea’ (Isaiah 11:9). From the time of Jesus until today, there have been many wars and the world has been full of oppression and ruin. As for Christians, they have shed more blood than the rest of the nations.”iv

In this affair, it seems, common sense, reason, truth, are on the side of the doubters. Two millennia of Christianity have not changed their minds, quite the contrary…

What is striking in this whole affair is its paradoxical, incredible, implausible side.

Philosophically, one could tentatively argue that there are « naked » truths that are, by that very fact, even more veiled. They are hidden in the plain sight.

But history teaches us over and over again that there are no « naked » truths, in fact, but only veiled ones.

« The ancient theory of Egypt’s secret religion, as found in Plutarch and Diodorus, Philo, Origen, and Clement of Alexandria, and in Porphyry and Iamblichus, is based on the premise that truth is a secret in itself, and that it can only be grasped in this world through images, myths, allegories, and riddles.”v

This ancient conception probably dates back to the pre-dynastic period, and one can think that it goes back well before pre-history itself .

Since these immensely remote times, it has not ceased to influence the « first » religions, then the « historical » religions. Nor has it ceased to proliferate in Pythagorism, Platonism, Hermeticism or Gnosis.

The Nag Hammadi manuscripts still retain the memory of it. One of them, found in 1945, the Gospel of Philip, affirms that the world cannot receive truth otherwise than veiled by words, myths and images.

Words and images do not have the function of hiding the truth from the eyes of the unbelievers, the hardened, the blasphemers.

Words and images are themselves the very expression of the secret, the symbols of mystery.

Goethe summed up the ambivalence of the secret, both as concealment and as the manifestation of truth, in three words:

« The true is like God;

it does not appear immediately,

we have to guess it from its manifestations.”vi

Secrets always end up being revealed, but then they only reveal the ’emptiness’ of their time, their era.

The mystery, for its part, never ceases to stay hidden.

Jan Assmann concluding his beautiful study on « Moses the Egyptian » with a provocative thought:

« At its apogee, the pagan religion did not hide a void in the mysteries, but the truth of the One God.”vii

A good example of that is Abraham himself coming all the way to pay tribute to Melchisedech, a non-Hebrew « priest of the Most High ».

Augustine connected all the ages of belief in one stroke:

« What today is called the Christian religion existed in antiquity, and from the origin of the human race until Christ became incarnate, and it was from him that the true religion that already existed began to be called Christian.”viii

Basically the idea is very simple. And very stimulating, in a way.

Truth always has been ‘true’, and always will be. Truth was ‘true’ from the beginning of the world, and even before the beginning of the world. Truth will still be  »true in a hundred million or a hundred billion years, and even after the end of this (fleeting) universe.

The various words that tell the Truth, and the men who believe in it, such as Akhnaton, Melchisedech, Abraham, Moses, Zoroaster, Plato, Yehoshua, are only themselves quite fleeting, but they serve It, according to their rank, and wisdom.

Truth is as ancient as the Ancient of Days; Truth is also very young, and just beginning to live again, everyday, in hidden, mysterious cradles.


iJan Assmann. Moïse l’Égyptien. Aubier, Paris, 2001, p.316

iiGospel of Philip, 67

iiiDavid Kimhi (1160-1235) quoted by Shmuel Trigano. In Judaïsme et christianisme, entre affrontement et reconnaissance. Bayard. Paris, 2005, p. 32

ivMoses Nahmanide. La Dispute de Barcelone. Lagrasse, Verdier, 1984, p.41s. Cité par S. Trigano in op.cit.

vJan Assmann. Moïse l’Égyptien. Aubier, Paris, 2001, p.317

viGoethe. « Aus Makariens Archiv ». Werke 8. Münich 1981, p. 460 N.3. Cité in Jan Assmann, op.cit. p.318

viiJan Assmann. Moïse l’Égyptien. Aubier, Paris, 2001, p.320

viiiAugustin. Retr. I, 13


« Leshan Giant Buddha« , built during the Tang dynasty (618–907)

At the time of the introduction of Indian Buddhism in China, the scholars of the Chinese Empire, confronted with the arrival of new ‘barbaric words’ (i.e. the sacred names and religious terms inherited from Buddhism) considered it preferable not to translate them. They chose to only transliterate them.

A tentative translation into the Chinese language would have given these terms, it was thought, a down-to-earth, materialistic sound, hardly likely to inspire respect or evoke mystery.

Much later, in the 19th century, a sinologist from Collège de France, Stanislas Julien, developed a method to decipher Sanskrit names as they were (very approximately) transcribed into Chinese, and provided some examples.

« The word Pou-ti-sa-to (Bôdhisattva) translated literally as ‘Intelligent Being’ would have lost its nobility and emphasis; that is why it was left as veiled in its Indian form. The same was done for the sublime names of the Buddha, which, by passing in a vulgar language, could have been exposed to the mockery and sarcasm of the profane.”i

There are words and names that must definitely remain untranslated, not that they are strictly speaking untranslatable, but their eventual translation would go against the interest of their original meaning, threaten their substance, undermine their essence, and harm the extent of their resonance, by associating them – through the specific resources and means of the target language – with semantic and symbolic spaces more likely to deceive, mislead or mystify, than to enlighten, explain or reveal.

Many sacred names of Buddhism, originally conceived and expressed in the precise, subtle, unbound language that is Sanskrit, have thus not been translated into Chinese, but only transcribed, based on uncertain phonetic equivalences, as the sound universe of Chinese seems so far removed from the tones of the Sanskrit language.

The non-translation of these Sanskrit words into Chinese was even theorized in detail by Xuanzang (or Hiouen-Thsang), the Chinese Buddhist monk who was, in the 7th century AD, one of the four great translators of the Buddhist sutra.

« According to the testimony of Hiuen-Thsang (玄奘 ), the words that should not be translated were divided into five classes:

1°) Words that have a mystical meaning such as those of the Toloni (Dharanîs) and charms or magic formulas.

2°) Those that contain a large number of meanings such as Po-Kia-Fan (Bhagavan), « which has six meanings ».

3°) The names of things that do not exist in China, such as the trees Djambou, Bhôdhidrouma, Haritaki.

4°) Words that we keep out of respect for their ancient use, for example the expression Anouttara bôdhi, « superior intelligence ».

5°) Words considered to produce happiness, for example Pan-jo (Prodjna), « Intelligence ». »ii

Far from being seen as a lack of the Chinese language, or a lack of ideas on the part of Chinese translators, the voluntary renunciation to translate seems to me to be a sign of strength and openness. Greek once allowed the Romance languages to duplicate each other, so to speak, by adding to the concrete semantic roots of everyday life the vast resources of a language more apt for speculation; similarly, Chinese has been able to incorporate as it stands some of the highest, abstract concepts ever developed in Sanskrit.

There is a general lesson here.

There are compact, dense, unique words that appeared in a specific culture, generated by the genius of a people. Their translation would, despite efforts, be a radical betrayal.

For example, the Arabic word « Allah » literally means « the god » (al-lah). Note that there are no capital letters in Arabic. There can be no question of translating « Allah » into English by its literal equivalent (« the god »), as it would then lose the special meaning and aura that the sound of the Arabic language gives it. The liquid syllabes that follow one another, the alliterative repetition of the definite article, al, “the”, merging with the word lah, « god », create a block of meaning without equivalent, one might think.

Could, for instance, the famous Koranic formula « Lâ ilaha ilâ Allâh » proclaiming the oneness of God be translated literally in this way: « There is no god but the god »?

If this translation is considered too flat, should we try to translate it by using a capital letter: “There is no god but God” ?

Perhaps. But then what would be particularly original about this Islamic formula? Judaism and Christianity had already formulated the same idea, long before.

But the preservation of the proper name, Allah, may, on the other hand, give it a perfume of novelty.

The Hebrew word יהוה (YHVH) is a cryptic and untranslatable name of God. It offers an undeniable advantage: being literally untranslatable, the question of translation no longer arises. The mystery of the cryptogram is closed by construction, as soon as it appears in its original language. One can only transcribe it later in clumsy alphabets, giving it even more obscure equivalents, like “YHVH”, which is not even a faithful transcription of יהוה, or like “Yahweh”, an imaginary, faulty and somewhat blasphemous transcription (from the Jewish point of view).

But, paradoxically, we come closer, by this observation of impotence, to the original intention. The transcription of the sacred name יהוה in any other language of the world, a language of the goyim, gives it de facto one or more additional, potential layers of depth, yet to be deciphered.

This potential depth added (in spite of itself) by other languages is a universal incentive to navigate through the language archipelagos. It is an invitation to overcome the confusion of Babel, to open to the idiomatic lights of all the languages of the world. We may dream, one day, of being able to understand and speak them all, — through some future, powerful AI.

Some words, such as יהוה, would still be properly untranslatable. But, at least, with the help of AI, we would be able to observe the full spectrum of potential semantic or symbolic “equivalences”, in the context of several thousands of living or dead languages.

I bet that we will then discover some gold nuggets, waiting for us in the collective unconscious.


iMéthode pour déchiffrer et transcrire les noms sanscrits qui se rencontrent dans les livres chinois, à l’aide de règles, d’exercices et d’un répertoire de onze cents caractères chinois idéographiques employés alphabétiquement, inventée et démontrée par M. Stanislas Julien (1861)

iiHoeï-Li and Yen-Thsang. Histoire de la vie de Hiouen-Thsang et de ses voyages dans l’Inde : depuis l’an 629 jusqu’en 645, par, Paris, Benjamin Duprat,‎ 1853 .

Drops of Truth

« Maimonides »

Rav Shmuel ben Ali, Gaon of Baghdad, rightly pointed out that in Maimonides’ Guide of the Perplexed , there is not a single word on the question of the immortality of souls or that of the resurrection of the dead.

It is not that Maimonides was not interested in these delicate problems. In his great work, the Mishneh Torah, he asserted that the rational soul is immortal, and that she is conscious of her personal individuality, even in the world to comei.

Maimonides also said that the individual soul, which he also called the « intellect in act », joins after death the « agent intellect » that governs the sublunar sphere. At birth, the soul emanates from this sphere, and she comes to melt into it again at death.

The immortality of the soul does not take a personal form. Immersed in the bosom of the “agent intellect”, the soul possesses a kind of identity, without however having a separate existence.ii

Clearly, we are entering here into a highly speculative territory where the reference points are incomplete, even absent, and the indications of the rare daring ones who think they have some revelation to make on these subjects are scattered and contradictory.

The opportunities for getting lost are multiplying. No ‘guide’ seems to be able to lead us to a good port.

Perhaps that is why Maimonides did not see fit to include these ideas in his own Guide, despite the few insights he had into these matters.

Speculation about the afterlife, however fraught with pitfalls, offers an opportunity to dream of strange states of consciousness, to dream of unimaginable possibilities of being. There are more futile activities.

From the few elements provided by Maimonides, it is worth trying to freely imagine what the soul experiences after death, at the moment when she discovers herself, in a kind of subliminal awakening, plunged into another « world ». Arguably, she is fully conscious of herself, while feeling a kind of fusion with other sister souls, also immersed in the infinity of the « agent intellect ».

In this new « world », several levels of consciousness are superimposed and cross-fertilized, of which she hardly perceives the ultimate extensions or future implications.

The soul accessing the « sublunar sphere » is conscious of being (again) newly « born », but she is not completely devoid of reference points.

She has already experienced two previous « births », one at conception, the other at childbirth. She now knows confusedly that she has just experienced a kind of 3rd birth after death, opening a new phase of a life decidedly full of surprises, leaps, jumps.

Not long ago, on earth, she was a principle of life and consciousness, and now she swims in an ocean of life and intelligence, which absorbs her completely, without drowning her, nor blinding her, quite the contrary.

She was, a while ago, a “principle” (of life and consciousness, as I said) , and now she has become pure spiritual substance !

In this new state, she is probably waiting for an opportunity to manifest herself as a singular being, perhaps having taken a liking for it in her previous lives. Or, nourished by the thousand wounds of experience, she volunteers for yet other states of consciousness, or for yet other worlds, of a hopefully less cruel nature, and of which there is perhaps a profusion, beyond the sublunar sphere.

This kind of idea, I am well aware, seems perfectly inadmissible to an overwhelming majority of « modern » thinkers. Nihilists and other materialists give full meaning to « matter » and give nothing to the strength of the spirit, to its autonomy, to its capacity for survival, in an unsuspected way, after the vicissitudes of a life dominated by « matter ».

By contrast, Maimonides, in twelfth-century Spain, then a crossroads of thought, has attempted to unravel the mystery of what happens after death.

Maimonides was neither reactionary, nor an “illuminati”, nor a bigot, nor complacent. He flew high above innumerable dogmatic quarrels. There was in him an aspiration to pure reason, a nostalgia for the beyond of religious forms.

There was no question of renouncing the Law, however, or of abandoning memory of ancient cults. In his strange, aloof, ironic style, he says: « To ask for such a thing would have been as if a prophet in those times, exhorting the worship of God, came to us and said: ‘God forbids you to pray to Him, to fast, and to call on His help in times of trouble, but your worship will be a simple meditation, without any practice.”iii

This phrase that Maimonides put into the mouth of an imaginary prophet as if by play, can be taken today, a thousand years later, at face value. What seemed at the time a frank denial can now be interpreted as a rhetorical ruse, a posthumous warning from the man Maimonides, a master of double meaning.

The irony of the time fades away. The meaning is reversed, the intention is revealed.

His idea was radical. It is necessary to put an end to all cults, to idolatry, to hypocrisy, based on « prayers », « sacrifices », « fasts » and « invocations ».

Here comes the time for « simple » meditation!

I think that Maimonides was, very early on, one of the necessary prophets of new times, of those times which are always announced with delay, just as today these future times are late in coming, when ancient cults will no longer be respected for what they claim to embody, in their motionless repetitions.

In our times in parturition, naked meditation will surpass the practices of surface and appearance.

Is this idea subversive, scandalous?

Or is it a real vision, for the ultimate benefit of humankind?

Men have practiced, millennia after millennia, multiple sorts of religion. They have followed ordinances and laws, detailed or symbolic, or even freed themselves from them.

History is far from having said its last word.

There is no end to prophecy. There is no seal of the prophets.

Always, the search for a truer truth will animate the minds of men.

And in our wildest imagination, we are still very far from having tasted a small drop from this oceanic truth.


iCf. Gérard Bensussan. Qu’est-ce que la philosophie juive ? 2003


iiiMaïmonide. Guide des égarés. Traduction de l’arabe par Salomon Munk, Ed. Verdier, 1979, p.522

Bread and Wine

« Bread and Wine »

The « realist » philosophers analyze the world as it is, or at least how it looks, or what they believe it to be. But they have nothing to say about how being came to be, or about the genesis of reality. They are also very short about the ultimate ends, whether there are any or none.

They are in no way capable of conceptualizing the world in its full potency. They have no idea how the universe emerged from nothingness in indistinct times, when nothing and no one had yet attained being, when nothing was yet « in act ».

Nor do they have any representation of this world (the planet Earth) a few hundred million years from now, which is not a large space of time, from a cosmological point of view.

My point is: if one takes the full measure of the impotence and pusillanimity of the “realist” philosophy, then our mind is suddenly freed, – freed from all the past web of philosophical tatters studded with limited thoughts, turning short, local truths, fleeting views, closed syllogisms.

Our mind is freed from all inherited constraints. Everything is yet to be thought, and discovered.

We should then exercise the highest faculty, that of imagination, that of dreaming and vision.

It is an incentive to get out of reason itself, not to abandon it, but to observe it from an external, detached, non-rational point of view. “Pure reason” is ill-equipped to judge itself, no matter what Kant thinks.

What can we see, then?

Firstly, reason is truly unable to admit that it is closed on itself, let alone willing to admit that it necessarily has an outside, that there is something out there that is inconceivable to reason.

The purest, most penetrating reason is still quite blind to anything that is not reasonable.

Reason sees nothing of the oceanic immensity of non-reason which surrounds it, exceeds it infinitely, and in which however reason bathes, as an ignorant, fragile, ephemeral bubble.

Reason has always been in a strong relationship with language. But we know quite well that the language is a rudimentary tool, a kind of badly cut, flimsy flint, producing from time to time some rare sparks…

Let’s try to show this flimsiness with an example, based on a simple but foundational sentence, like « God is one ».

Grammatically, this sentence is a flimsy oxymoron. It oozes inconsistency. It links a subject (« God ») and a predicate (« one ») with the help of the copula (« is »). But in the same time it separates (grammatically) the subject and the predicate. In the same time, it separates them (semantically) and then reunites them (grammatically) by the sole virtue of a copulative verb (« is »), which, by the way, exists only in some human languages, but remains unknown to the majority of them…

If truly, I mean grammatically, ‘God is one’, then it should be impossible to really separate the words ‘God’, ‘is’, or ‘one’. They would be just the same reality.

If grammatically ‘God is one’, there would only be a need for the word ‘God’, or if one prefers only for the word ‘one’, or only for the word ‘is’. Those words or ‘names’ imply just the same, unique reality. Moreover, after having stated this ‘unique reality’, one would remain (logically) short. What else could be added, without immediately contravening the ‘unitary’ dogma? If anything else could be added, it should be immediately engulfed into the “oneness” of the “being”. Or, if not, that would imply that something could “be” outside the “One and Unique Being”. Which is (grammatically) illogical.

If grammatically ‘God is one’, then one must already count three verbal instances of His nature: the ‘name’ (God), the ‘essence’ (Being), the ‘nature’ (Oneness).

Three instances are already a crowd, in the context of the Unique One…

And no reason to stop there. This is why there are at least ten names of God in the Torah, and 99 names of Allah in Islam….

If grammatically ‘God is one’, then how can language itself could dare to stand as overhanging, outside of the ‘oneness’ of God, outside of His essential ‘unity’?

If grammatically ‘God is one’, then shouldn’t the language itself necessarily be one with Him, and made of His pure substance?

Some theologians have seen this difficulty perfectly well. So they have proposed a slightly modified formula: « God is one, but not according to unity.”

This clever attempt doesn’t actually solve anything.

They are just words added to words. This proliferation, this multiplicity (of words) is not really a good omen of their supposed ability to capture the essence of the One… Language, definitely, has untimely bursts, uncontrolled (but revealing) inner contradictions… Language is a mystery that only really take flight, like the bird of Minerva (the Hegelian owl), at dusk, when all the weak, flashy and illusory lights of reason are put under the bushel.

Here is another example of reason overcome by the proper power of language.

The great and famous Maimonides, a specialist in halakha, and very little suspect of effrontery in regard to the Law, surprised more than one commentator by admitting that the reason for the use of wine in the liturgy, or the function of the breads on display in the Temple, were completely beyond his comprehension.

He underlined that he had tried for a long time to search for some « virtual reasons »i to use wine and bread for religious purpose, to no avail. This strange expression (« virtual reasons ») seems to vindicate that, for Maimonides, there are in the commandments of the Law « provisions of detail whose reason cannot be indicated », and « that he who thinks that these details can be motivated is as far from the truth as he who believes that the general precept is of no real use »ii.

Which leaves us with yet another bunch of mysteries to tackle with.

Maimonides, a renowned expert of halakha in the 11th century A.D., candidly admitted that he did not understand the reason for the presence of bread and wine in Jewish liturgy, and particularly their presence in the premises of the Temple of Jerusalem.

It is then perhaps up to the poet, or the dreamer, or the anthropologist, to try to guess by analogy, or by anagogy, some possible « virtual reasons » for this religious use of bread and wine?

Maybe the bread and wine do belong to the depths of the collective inconscious, and for that reason are loaded with numinous potency?

Or, maybe Maimonides just would not want to see the obvious link with what had happened, more that a millennium before his time, in Jerusalem, during the Last Supper?

Whatever the answer, the question remains: why bread and wine, if “God is One”?


iMaimonides. Le Guide des égarés. Ed. Verdier. 1979. The translation from Arabic into French by Salomon Munk, p.609, gives here : « raisons virtuelles ».

iiMaimonides. Le Guide des égarés. Ed. Verdier. 1979. Translation from Arabic into French by Salomon Munk, p.609 sq.

Bouche délirante

« Lunes de Cumes »

La façon la plus ramassée dont les Modernes ont traduit l´antique idée selon laquelle « tout est plein de dieux » est d’affirmer l´intrication quantique de toutes les particules de l´univers, — depuis le Big Bang. Le constat, originellement fait par Thalès, philosophe, astronome et géomètre, « πάντα πλήρη θεῶν εἶναι », implique logiquement que les multitudes divines sont toutes unies, ou « intriquées », pour reprendre le jargon quantique.

Toutes ces myriades de dieux, d’anges ou d’ondes, sont liées, enlacées, embrassées, enchevêtrées. Un nœud numineux noue leur être en l´Un.

Mais à la différence des particules quantiques, les dieux infiniment innombrables restent subtilement « séparés » des choses et des corps, dont ils accompagnent pourtant, sans cesse, l´émergence.

La nappe des « dieux », finement tissée, sans couture, enveloppe une souple base de matière et d´énergie.

Elle s´immisce dans ses interstices et ses vides.

Deux ordres de réalité se voisinent, sans se confondre, mais parfois s’intersectent, comme des plis, des angles, ou des croix.

Où trouve-t-on ces lieux de rencontre? Dans les hasards, les augures, les pythies, les temples et les invocations ? Peut-être.

Plus sûrement dans les cœurs, battants et clos.

Et sans doute aussi dans l’indicible silence, blotti entre les mots, caché dans l’absence.

Ou encore celés sous les symboles qui ne montrent, — signes cois.

Ou parfois dans le grand fond, l’abysse abaissé. Ou dans les nues lisses, hautes et fines.

Ou simplement dans une âme, mue d’épigenèse, embryon d’elle-même, sans sol ni ciel.

Âme capable d’approcher toute chose. De la connaître. Et de s’en détacher, légère.

Ce n’est pas l’éveil, mais le sommeil, qui lui révèle les rares mystères, dont elle est douée.

Pauvre en esprit, elle cache sa nature dans l’opulence des désirs. Éveillée, elle la couvre de conscience comme d’un voile.

En son sommeil, elle est exil, allée en des rêves indociles, elliptiques.

Abeille, elle butine, cherchant des sucs neufs, loin de la ruche connaisseuse.

Miel à son retour, vers la reine endormie, la connaissance assoupie.

Qui dira son vol nocturne ? La conscience est collée à l’aire et n’a pas d’ailes.

Double vie, double face de l’âme. L’une de lumière et de soleil, l’autre de lune et d’ombre.

Mais c’est la nuit qui est grosse, non le jour qui s’ignore.

C’est dans la nuit des sens, dans cette ténèbre du sens, qu’elle monte le plus haut, loin des steppes plates, des chotts et des ergs.

Alors elle explore, non une évidence, une révélation, mais l’exode.

Elle quête les passages, les chenaux, les détroits, les « trous de ver » (noirs ou blancs). Tout ce qui ouvre la fuite et l’impensé, l’angoisse de l’angustai

Toutes les nuits, elle voyage comme une colombe noachique, loin de l’arche immobile, échouée sur quelques hauts fonds, attendant la décrue. Rares alors les retours fructueux, mais non impossibles. Telle branche, telle olive en disent la trace.

C’est dans ces envols nocturnes, loin des rêves de glu, qu’elle s’approche des terres supérieures et des dieux occupés.

C’est alors qu’elle grappille des parcelles de génie, qu’elle découvre la gravité et la danse,

qu’elle sait la symphonie immense, qu’elle sent la puissance des sèmes,

qu’elle suce le sein nébuleux, le lait cosmique, la sève galactique.

Elle voit soudain l’idée, nue comme un buisson qui brûle, une sylve d’odeurs et d’épines…

Elle vole aux dieux mêmes leur vol et leur envol.

Cinglant larcin, à la Prométhée, payé du foie.

Rapt utile, pourtant, au retour célébré de caresses méritées.

Nimbée d’aura, constellée de cieux, l’âme à la fin retourne à la glèbe, fait verdir la boue, exhausse le lotus.

L’âme est double, et ce double s’enlace en elle, comme deux amants doux, deux courbes magnétiques.

Mais quand elle se dédouble, se désenlace, quand cesse l’union avec les lointains, elle se réalise, pénétrée de connaissance, gorgée de possession, se sachant libre.

Se sachant aussi possédée, absolument possédée, et pourtant à cet instant, plus libre que jamais, d’aller toujours plus haut.

Comme en la forge le fer en feu bout, fusionne, coule et s’évapore, sublimé, — atomes par atomes, fer encore, quoique quantique.

L’âme de fer fut un instant centre de l’âtre ultime.

Il lui faudra des jours et des ans pour guérir sa brûlure, penser sa plaie, combler de cicatrices sa conscience sauve et balafrée.

Ce n’est pas la pensée qui s’est mue, dans cette mouvance ignée.

Ce n’est pas d’un vol extatique, d’un vain délire, que l’âme a franchi les mondes.

Son calme est froid comme un lac. Maintenant, elle entre dans le cratère, elle plonge dans la lave, comme une goutte d’eau nue.

Pourtant ne se vaporise. L’eau est lourde, comme une bombe.

Œil et boson, iris irradié. Entière entéléchie. Théophanie non-humaine.

« Bouche délirante »ii .

En elle, langue, larynx, glotte et incisives unissent l’haleine et la parole.


i« Ad augusta per angusta » (Vers l’auguste par l’étroit).

iiHéraclite Fr. 92

Neuroscience and Metaphysics

« Ezekiel’s Vision »

« There are not many Jewish philosophers, » says Leo Straussi.

This statement, however provocative, should be put into perspective.

The first Jewish philosopher, historically speaking, Philo of Alexandria, attempted a synthesis between his Jewish faith and Greek philosophy. He had little influence on the Judaism of his time, but much more on the Fathers of the Church, who were inspired by him, and instrumental in conserving his works.

A millennium later, Moses Maimonides drew inspiration from Aristotelian philosophy in an attempt to reconcile faith and reason. He was the famous author of the Guide of the Perplexed, and of the Mishne Torah, a code of Jewish law, which caused long controversies among Jews in the 12th and 13th centuries.

Another celebrity, Baruch Spinoza was « excommunicated » (the Hebrew term is חרם herem) and definitively « banished » from the Jewish community in 1656, but he was admired by Hegel, Nietzsche, and many Moderns…

In the 18th century, Moses Mendelssohn tried to apply the spirit of the Aufklärung to Judaism and became one of the main instigators of the « Jewish Enlightenment », the Haskalah (from the word השכלה , « wisdom », « erudition »).

We can also mention Hermann Cohen, a neo-Kantian of the 19th century, and « a very great German philosopher », in the words of Gérard Bensussanii.

Closer in time, Martin Buber, Franz Rosenzweig and Emmanuel Lévinas .

That’s about it. These names don’t make a crowd, but we are far from the shortage that Leo Strauss wanted to point out. It seems that Leo Strauss really wished to emphasize, for reasons of his own, « the old Jewish premise that being a Jew and being a philosopher are two incompatible things, » as he himself explicitly put it.iii

It is interesting to recall that Leo Strauss also clarified his point of view by analyzing the emblematic case of Maimonides: « Philosophers are men who try to account for the Whole on the basis of what is always accessible to man as man; Maimonides starts from the acceptance of the Torah. A Jew may use philosophy and Maimonides uses it in the widest possible way; but, as a Jew, he gives his assent where, as a philosopher, he would suspend his assent.”iv

Leo Strauss added, rather categorically, that Maimonides’ book, The Guide of the Perplexed, « is not a philosophical book – a book written by a philosopher for philosophers – but a Jewish book: a book written by a Jew for Jews.”v

The Guide of the Perplexed is in fact entirely devoted to the Torah and to the explanation of the « hidden meaning » of several passages. The most important of the « hidden secrets » that it tries to elucidate are the ‘Narrative of the Beginning’ (the Genesis) and the ‘Narrative of the Chariot’ (Ezekiel ch. 1 to 10). Of these « secrets », Maimonides says that « the Narrative of the Beginning” is the same as the science of nature and the “Narrative of the Chariot” is the same as the divine science (i.e. the science of incorporeal beings, or of God and angels).vi

The chapters of Ezekiel mentioned by Maimonides undoubtedly deserve the attention and study of the most subtle minds, the finest souls. But they are not to be put into all hands. Ezekiel recounts his « divine visions » in great detail. It is easy to imagine that skeptics, materialists, rationalists or sneers (whether Jewish or not) are not part of the intended readership.

Let us take a closer look at a revealing excerpt of Ezekiel’ vision.

« I looked, and behold, there came from the north a rushing wind, a great cloud, and a sheaf of fire, which spread a bright light on all sides, in the center of which shone like polished brass from the midst of the fire. Also in the center were four animals that looked like humans. Each of them had four faces, and each had four wings. Their feet were straight, and the soles of their feet were like the soles of calves’ feet. They sparkled like polished bronze. They had human hands under the wings on their four sides; and all four of them had their faces and wings. Their wings were joined together; they did not turn as they walked, but each walked straight ahead. As for the figures of their faces, all four had the face of a man, all four had the face of a lion on the right, all four had the face of an ox on the left, and all four had the face of an eagle.”vii

The vision of Ezekiel then takes a stunning turn, with a description of an appearance of the « glory of the Lord ».

« I saw again as it were polished brass, fire, within which was this man, and which shone round about, from the form of his loins upward, and from the form of his loins downward, I saw as fire, and as bright light, about which he was surrounded. As the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud on a rainy day, so was the appearance of that bright light: it was an image of the glory of the Lord. When I saw it, I fell on my face, and I heard the voice of one speaking.”viii

The « man » in the midst of the fire speaks to Ezekiel as if he were an « image » of God.

But was this « man » really an « image » of God? What « philosopher » would dare to judge this statement ?

Perhaps this « man » surrounded by fire was some sort of « reality »? Or was he just an illusion?

Either way, it is clear that this text and its possible interpretations do not fit into the usual philosophical canons.

Should we therefore follow Leo Strauss, and consequently admit that Maimonides himself is not a « philosopher », but that he really wrote a « Jewish book » for the Jews, in order to respond to the need for clarification of the mysteries contained in the Texts?

Perhaps… But the modern reader of Ezekiel, whether Jewish or not, whether a philosopher or not, cannot fail to be interested in the parables one finds there, and in their symbolic implications.

The « man » in the midst of the fire asks Ezekiel to « swallow » a book, then to go « to the house of Israel », to this people which is not for him « a people with an obscure language, an unintelligible language », to bring back the words he is going to say to them.

The usual resources of philosophy seem little adapted to deal with this kind of request.

But the Guide for the Perplexed tackles it head on, in a both refined and robust style, mobilizing all the resources of reason and criticism, in order to shed some light on people of faith, who are already advanced in reflection, but who are seized with « perplexity » in the face of the mysteries of such « prophetic visions ».

The Guide for the Perplexed implies a great trust in the capacities of human reason.

It suggests that these human capacities are far greater, far more unbounded than anything that the most eminent philosophers or the most enlightened poets have glimpsed through the centuries.

And it is not all. Ages will come, no doubt, when the power of human penetration into divine secrets will be, dare we say it, without comparison with what Moses or Ezekiel themselves were able to bequeath to posterity.

In other words, and contrary to usual wisdom, I am saying that the age of the prophets, far from being over, has only just begun; and as well, the age of philosophers is barely emerging, considering the vast scale of the times yet to come.

Human history still is in its infancy, really.

Our entire epoch is still part of the dawn, and the great suns of the Spirit have not revealed anything but a tiny flash of their potential illuminating power.

From an anatomical and functional point of view, the human brain conceals much deeper mysteries, much more obscure, and powerful, than the rich and colorful metaphors of Ezekiel.

Ezekiel’s own brain was once, a few centuries ago, prey to a « vision ». So there was at that time a form of compatibility, of correspondence between the inherent structure of Ezekiel’s brain and the vision which he was able to give an account of.

The implication is that one day in the future, presumably, other brains of new prophets or visionaries may be able to transport themselves even further than Ezekiel.

It all winds down to this: either the prophetic « vision » is an illusion, or it has a reality of its own.

In the first case, Moses, Ezekiel and the long list of the « visionaries » of mankind are just misguided people who have led their followers down paths of error, with no return.

In the second case, one must admit that a “prophetic vision” implies the existence of another “world” subliminally enveloping the « seer ».

To every « seer » it is given to perceive to a certain extent the presence of the mystery, which surrounds the whole of humanity on all sides.

To take up William James’ intuition, human brains are analogous to « antennae », permanently connected to an immense, invisible worldix.

From age to age, many shamans, a few prophets and some poets have perceived the emanations, the pulsations of this other world.

We have to build the neuroscience and the metaphysics of otherworldly emanations.


iLeo Strauss. Maïmonides. 1988, p.300

iiGérard Bensussan. Qu’est-ce que la philosophie juive ? 2003, p.166.

iiiLeo Strauss. Maïmonides. 1988, p.300

ivIbid., p.300

vIbid., p.300

viIbid., p. 304

viiEzekiel, 1, 4-10

viiiEzekiel, 1, 4-10

ixWilliam James. Human Immortality: Two Supposed Objections to the Doctrine.1898. Ed. Houghton, Mifflin and Company, The Riverside Press, Cambridge.

Wise Walker

Philo, in a short, dense passagei, describes the search of the ‘wise man’ who wants to know the secret of the universe, the origin of all things, the ultimate end – the Sovereign Mystery.

Let us reveal at once that this secret can never be reached.

Understanding this is the first step on the road of the ‘wise man’. It is necessary to know that the Mystery is too transcendent, too elusive, too unimaginable to ever be within reach. And yet it is worth continuing the search.

After a while, looking back over the road traveled so far, the walking ‘wise man’ surely knows that he knows almost nothing. At least he knows that, – which is not nothing, really, but indeed is really not much, and even one can say that it is almost absolutely nothing.

But the ‘wise man’ also knows that he has to get back on the road, and continue the search, without delay.

Looking at what still seems like a long way ahead to go before the next stop, he believes he can decipher the scattered signs in the distance. Some tracks. A few fragments.

Tending his ear, he may perceive confused clamors, rare echoes, silent sighs, indistinct words, tenuous, almost inaudible voices.

Raising his eyes, he may distinguish with some difficulty, very high in the nebula, kind of scintillating memories, and a background of faint glimmers, originally immensely distant, far beyond the forgotten ways, and lost nights.

The ‘wise man’ sets off again. He has no more time to lose. This last halt has lasted too long.

He walks with slow steps, eyes open, memory alive. From time to time he comes across thin, quickly outdated clues.

Peaceful, solitary, he reflects on the geometry of his unlimited, illogical walk. The more he advances, it seems, the less he arrives.

But he continues walking, however. In a sense, maybe doing so he does not go backwards, at last.

Towards the front, very far, in the distance, the horizon fades away.

The walker clearly sees only his slow steps, and what is just around him. He also sees that what seems quite close to him constantly slips away from him as he approaches, slowly moving away, into a blind spot.

Only the immeasurably distant, the absolutely separated, the utterly unapproachable, does not leave him, in his slow approach.

The ‘wise man’ in his walk rarely has his joy, his thirst: minute traces, celestial analects, pollens in the wind, inchoate echoes, iridescent sounds, allusive gleams, unearthed nitescences, …

But none of this is enough for him.

Walking again, continuing the search, that alone, in a sense, is enough for him.


iPhilo. De Post. 18

L’autour chanteur

Autour chanteur. « Melierax canorus ».

Il y a une sorte de connaissance qui est, par nature, séparée de son objet, ainsi celle que peut obtenir un observateur, détaché de ce qu’il observe. Il observe une chose ou un phénomène, et n’y voit que l’« autre » que lui-même.

Si c’est lui-même que l’observateur observe, alors son être en tant que sujet est encore « autre » que son être observé.

Et il y a une sorte de connaissance qui est une étreinte intime, une fusion, une intuition de la présence enveloppante, une participation à la chose connue, en laquelle on s’immerge entièrement. Cette deuxième sorte de connaissance n’a rien à voir avec la méthode rationnelle, scientifique. Pourtant c’est bien une forme de connaissance, ultime, directe, et en un sens, sans aucun intermédiaire.

Qu’est-ce qu’un intermédiaire ? C’est ce qui relie des extrêmes antinomiques, ce qui résout des oppositions contradictoires, ce qui connecte deux niveaux de réalité, ce qui comble le fossé qui sépare les différences.

Car il faut bien que le sens circule, du Levant au Couchant, ou du Ciel vers la Terre. Il faut qu’en la poussière une haute essence puisse s’immiscer, si le Dieu veut étendre son règne du haut sur le bas, du lointain sur le proche, du caché au révélé.

S’Il veut vraiment être partout où sa volonté se meut, Il peut s’attacher à tout ce qu’Il n’est pas.

D’y être ainsi joint ou mêlé, ne L’enserre ni ne Le lie. Et la Terre n’en est pas non plus désertée, par cette déliaison, même dans ses moindres confins.

Thalès l’avait déjà dit, avant les autres philosophes, « Tout est plein de dieux »i. Phrase prémonitoire et programmatique, désormais délaissée.

L’âme en conséquence en a aussi sa part, sa masse et sa foule de dieux innommés. C’est pourquoi le Philosophe avait conclu, imparablement, à une explication de l’origine divine de ses dons: « La connaissance appartient à l’âme, ainsi que la sensation, l’opinion, et encore le désir, la délibération, en un mot les appétits. »ii

Son propre maître lui avait ouvert la voie de ce penser : « L’âme est quelque chose de plus ancien, et, à la fois, de plus divin que le corps… ‘Tout est plein de Dieux’, et jamais les puissances supérieures, soit manque de mémoire, soit indifférence, ne nous ont négligés !.. »iii.

Thalès, Platon, Aristote convergent en somme vers l’idée qu’en l’âme vit quelque essence divine. Leçon nette, aujourd’hui bien oubliée. Les Modernes, cyniques, secs et méprisants, se passent volontiers des poètes, de l’âme et des dieux, et les ont remplacés par de vibrants éloges du néant, un goût vain pour le théâtre de l’absurde, et un incommensurable provincialisme cosmique.

Le divin est le principe de la lumière, tant la matérielle qui traversa les mondes, et tout le visible, que l’immatérielle, qui illumine encore la raison et fait voir les intelligibles.

Lumière une et indivisible, pour qui la voit, ou, pour qui, par elle, la comprend, et pour qui tout le malheur vient de son ombre portée.

C’est un fait: toute lumière projette une écume d’ombre, dans la vague qu’elle ouvre en l’abîme.

D’ailleurs, la lumière des dieux n’est elle-même, au fond, qu’une sorte d’ombre, si on la rapporte (comme il se doit) à l’origine qui l’engendre, à la puissance qui la propulse.

La métaphore même, qui suit la danse de l’onde et du corpuscule, comprend l’idée d’un mouvement de la lumière à l’intérieur d’elle-même, jamais là où l’on attend, toujours ailleurs, à jamais mue, mais jamais nue.

L’âme aussi est une sorte de lumière, une étincelle d’origine. Lorsqu’elle arrive dans l’embryon endormi, dans le corps qui se forme, elle l’enveloppe et le nourrit, non de lait et de caresses, mais de suc et d’essence, de vues et de sens.

Elle lui donne le un et le deux, l’union et la différence, le silence, le rythme – et la symphonie sans fin des organes affamés.

Elle lui donne toutes les formes, celles qui la feront toujours vivre et même sur-vivre.

L’âme se donne, et le corps rue sans raison, pur-sang pris à son lasso, d’un côté cravaché par le souffle, et de l’autre la matière est son mors. Ils s’enlacent sans fin comme du même à de l’autre.

Cet enlacement, cet embrasement, est comme une brève image d’un embrassement plus infini, plus vaste que tous les mondes, celui que le divin entretient avec lui-même, et dans lequel il emporte sans fin tous les êtres, nonobstant leur néant et leur évanescence. Enfouis dans le devenir, la fugacité est leur partage. Mais les êtres créés, éphémères fumées, sont aussi, un par un, don à la cause, tribut à l’être. Ils prennent part au sacrifice, au silence du Soi, à la saignée de la sève, aux salves du sang, au souffle sourd, dans les souterrains du destin.

Enlacement, embrasement, embrassement, enfouissement, emport et entretien, toutes ces métaphores disent encore le lien. Alors que le divin, même uni, est aussi séparé de ce qu’il est ou semble être. Il s’envole aussitôt posé sur la terre, oiseau toujours, aux ailes de ciel.

L’âme aussi vole, ses ailes sont d’aube ou de soir, elle se projette par à-coups dans l’abîme du jour, dans la différence des lumières. Elle caresse la lèvre des peuples endormis, ou des filles éveillées, et elle s’envole toujours à nouveau, comme un moineau blessé, ou un autour chanteur.

Elle ne ressemble à aucun être, unique à jamais, et même d’elle-même elle se plaît à se détacher, dans la liberté de son désir. Elle est de la race des dieux, sans avoir ni leur vie ni leur infinité, mais elle peut monter en leur ciel plus haut que toutes les puissances et les autres anges.

En cela, sa noblesse.

iCf. Aristote, De l’âme I,5, 411a.

iiAristote, De l’âme I,5, 411b

iiiPlaton, Epinomis 991 d4

Metaphysics of Sacrifice

« Prajāpati »

In Platonic philosophy, the God Eros (Love) is always in search of fulfillment, always moving, eager to fill His own lack of being.

But how could a God lack of being? How could he fail to be ?

If Love signals a lack, as Plato says, how could Love be a God, whose essence is to be?

A God ‘Love’, in Plato’s way, is fully ‘God’ only through His loving relationship with what He loves. This relationship implies a ‘movement’ and a ‘dependence’ of the divine nature around the object of His ‘Love’.

How to understand such a ‘movement’ and such a ‘dependence’ in a transcendent God, a God whose essence is to ‘be’, and whose Being is a priori beyond any lack of being?

This is the reason why Aristotle harshly criticizes Plato. For Aristotle, Love is not an essence, but only a means. If God defines Himself as the Being par excellence, He is also ‘immobile’, says Aristotle. As the first immobile Motor, He only gives His movement to all creation.

« The Principle, the First of the beings is motionless: He is motionless by essence and by accident, and He imprints the first, eternal and one movement.”i

God, ‘immobile’, sets the world and all the beings it contains in motion, breathing love into them, and a desire for their ‘end’ (their goal). The world is set in motion because it desires this very ‘end’. The end of the world is in the love of the ‘end’, in the desire to reach the ultimate ‘end’ for which the world was set in motion.

« The final cause, in fact, is the Being for whom it is an end, and it is also the end itself. In the latter sense, the end can exist among immobile beings.”ii

For Aristotle, then, God cannot be ‘Love’, or Eros. The Platonic Eros is only an ‘intermediate’ god. It is through Eros that God sets all beings in motion. God sets the world in motion through the love He inspires. But He is not Love. Love is the intermediary through which He aims at the ‘final cause’, His ‘aim’.

« The final cause moves as the object of love.”iii.

Here we see that Aristotle’s conception of the God differs radically from the Christian conception of a God who is essentially “love”. « God so loved the world » (John 3:16).

Christ overturned the tables of Aristotelian law, that of a ‘still’ God, a God for whom love is only a means to an end, abstractly called the ‘final cause’.

The God of Christ is not ‘immobile’. Paradoxically, not withstanding all His putative power, He places Himself at the mercy of the love (or indifference, or ignorance) of His own creation.

For Aristotle, the divine immobile is always at work, everywhere, in all things, as the ‘First Motor’. The divine state represents the maximum possible being, the very Being. All other beings lack being. The lowest level in Jacob’s ladder of the aeons is that of being only in power to be, a pure potency, a purely virtual being.

The God of Christ, on the other hand, is not always ‘present’, He may be ’empty’, He may be ‘mocked’, ‘railed », ‘humiliated’. And He may ‘die’, and He may remain ‘absent’.

In a way, the Christian conception of divine kenosis is closer to the Platonic conception of a God-Love who suffers from a fundamental ‘lack’, than to the Aristotelian conception of God as ‘First Mover’ and ‘final cause’.

There is a real philosophical paradox in considering that the essence of God reveals in a lack or an ‘emptiness‘ in the heart of Being.

In this hypothesis, love would not only be a ‘lack’ of being, as Plato thinks, but would be part of the divine essence itself. This divine Lack would actually be the highest form of being.

What is the essence of a God whose lack is at its heart?

There is a name for it – a very old name, which gives a rough idea of it: ‘Sacrifice’.

This profoundly anti-intuitive idea appeared four thousand years before Christ. The Veda forged a name to describe it: Devayajña, the ‘Sacrifice of God’. A famous Vedic hymn describes Creation as the self-immolation of the Creator.iv Prajāpati totally sacrifices Himself, and in doing so He can give His Self entirely to the creation. He sacrifices himself but lives by this very sacrifice. He remains alive because the sacrifice gives Him a new Breath, a new Spirit.

« The supreme Lord said to His father, the Lord of all creatures: ‘I have found the sacrifice that fulfills desires: let me perform it for You’ – ‘So be it’, He replied. Then He fulfills it for Him. After the sacrifice, He wished, ‘May I be all here!’ He became Breath, and now Breath is everywhere here.”v

The analogy between the Veda and Christianity is deep. It includes the same, divine ’emptiness’.

« The Lord of creatures [Prajāpati], after having begotten living beings, felt as if He had been emptied. The creatures departed from Him; they did not stay with Him for His joy and sustenance.”vi

« After having generated everything that exists, He felt as if He was emptied and was afraid of death.”vii

The ’emptiness’ of the Lord of creatures is formally analogous to the ‘kenosis‘ of Christ (this word comes from the Greek kenosis and the verb kenoein, ‘to empty’).

There is also the Vedic metaphor of ‘dismemberment’, which anticipates the dismemberment of Osiris, Dionysus and Orpheus.

« When He had produced all the creatures, Prajāpati fell apart. His breath went away. When His breath was no longer active, the Gods abandoned Him”viii.

« Reduced to His heart, He cried out, ‘Alas, my life!’ The waters came to His aid and through the sacrifice of the Firstborn, He established His sovereignty.”ix

The Veda saw it. The Sacrifice of the Lord of Creation was at the origin of the universe. That is why, it is written: « the sacrifice is the navel of the universe »x.

Perhaps the most interesting thing, if we can get this far, is to allow to conclude that: « Everything that exists, whatever it is, is made to participate in the Sacrifice » xi.

Quite a hard lesson.

To be put in the very long perspective…

iAristotle. Metaph., Λ, 8, 1073a

iiAristotle. Metaph., Λ, 7, 1072b

iiiAristotle. Metaph., Λ, 7, 1072b

ivRV I,164

vŚatapatha Brāhmaṇa (SB) XI,1,6,17

viSB III,9,1,1

viiSB X,10,4,2,2

viiiSB VI,1,2,12-13

ixTaittirīya Brāhmaṇa 2,3,6,1

xRV I,164,35

xiSB III,6,2,26