See also formatted PDF: irfancolloquia.org/pdf/lights4_kluge_existential.pdf.
"Whatever duty Thou hast prescribed unto Thy servants of
extolling to the utmost Thy majesty and glory is but a token of Thy grace unto
them, that they may be enabled to ascend unto the station conferred upon their
own inmost being, the station of the knowledge of their own selves."
(Gleanings, I, 4-5)
1) Introduction
Having demonstrated the Aristotelian substratum or soil of the Bahá'í Writings
in "The Aristotelian Substratum of the Bahá'í Writings", it remains to be shown
how an existential tree grow from this ground. However, before pursuing that
issue, let us clarify for ourselves why such an undertaking is important and
worthwhile. What, we might fairly ask, is an existential approach to the
conceptual substratum of the Writings, and what unique contribution can it make
to our understanding of them?
To see how a Bahá'í existentialism can grow from the Aristotelian substratum,
we must ask how we would actually experience the ideas we gain by abstract
analysis. How would they affect our understanding of ourselves, and with that,
our self-image? At this point it becomes evident that anything that affects our
self-image inevitably touches our emotions, our will, our intellect and,
perhaps, above all, our individual and collective actions. It affects the whole
person. Put in other terms, we might say that the existentialist approach
focuses on the individual and collective human self-image found in the Bahá'í
Writings and on how we might respond to this self-image. It examines how, in
the light of the Writings, we understand ourselves as individuals who are
members of a species and how we respond to this understanding in affect, in
intellect, in volition and in action. In other words, an existential approach
to the Writings, and, in this case to their Aristotelian substratum, provides a
bridge between an abstract understanding and the actual exigencies of daily
life: it serves the purpose of helping us live the Writings more consciously
than we otherwise could and does so by exploring the concrete, 'real-life'
implications of these concepts. Such an analysis can do no more than provoke
further thought and self-exploration in others since no existential analysis
can ever be exhaustive.
This emphasis on real experience is the historical spring of the entire
existential movement which begins with a demand for philosophy to break out of
its confinement to Descartes' isolated, thinking subject and include the whole
subject actually living in the world. All varieties of existentialism reject
Descartes' subject-object analysis of our relationship to the world because it
is only an abstraction from our actual "being-in-the-world" (
Being and
Time, 78; see also
BT, 246-250) and does not, therefore, accurately
present our real situation. This distorts our understanding of humankind. "In
abstracting myself from given circumstances, from the empirical self, from the
situation in which I find myself, I run the risk of escaping into a real
never-never or no-man's-land - into what strictly must be called a nowhere . .
. " (
The Mystery of Being, Vol. 1, 164). As Sartre puts it: " Our being
is immediately 'in situation'; that is, it arises in enterprises and knows
itself first in so far as it is reflected in those enterprises. We discover
ourselves then in a world people with demands, in the heart of projects. . . "
(BN
, 47). For philosophy, the result is disastrous: " from the moment we
seek to transcend abstract thought's proper limits and to arrive at global
abstraction [e.g., idealist philosophy], we topple over into the gulf of
non-sense - of non-sense in the strict philosophical sense, that is, of words
without reasonable meaning" (
MB, Vol. 1, 164.). In other words,
Descartes' radical subject-object division is wholly artificial and leads to
such pseudo-problems as trying to prove the existence of the external world, a
"scandal" (Kant) which has dogged western philosophy since his time. The Bahá'í
Writings do not waste time with such non-issues. This is even evident in their
form which shows them to be directly related to real people in real situations:
Bahá'u'lláh's and Abdu'l-Bahá's tablets and epistles to particular individuals,
verbal answers to specific questions posed by believers, letters of guidance to
personal problems and the like. This is the kind of writing that demonstrates a
firm understanding that we are always "being-in-the-world" (
BT, 78) and
never an isolated subject who cannot be logically sure that the external world
exists.
At this point, a question obtrudes itself: why explore the existential
dimension of the Bahá'í Writings
after a study of their highly abstract
Aristotelian substratum? Why all the previous rigmarole about Aristotle instead
of a direct plunge into the Writings? After all, in life, do we not abstract
after we have had the real experience? Why reverse the order and begin
with the abstractions found in the Writings? There are two answers to this
question. First: if we want to deepen our understanding of the Writings, we
must first make clear to ourselves and understand the philosophical concepts
embedded in them. This requires us to abstract and study these concepts. Simply
plunging into the Writings may be satisfactory and sufficient for some, but it
cannot provide the specific and precise knowledge and understandings that
others may desire and need and which may be necessary to reveal new depths in
the Writings. There is no reason to believe that an existential exploration of
the Writings is somehow exempt from the necessity for such a clear conceptual
understanding.
Second: in exploring the existential dimension of the Writings, there is a
special reason to begin with the conceptual content or substratum, namely the
historical fact that existential thinking has a certain prone-ness to slip into
pure and arbitrary subjectivism (
Existentialism, 46). This is already
noticeable in Kierkegaard, the father of modern existentialism, who asserts in
his
Concluding Unscientific Postscript that "truth is subjectivity"
(p.169). This tendency to excessive arbitrary subjectivity - currently so
evident in some of existentialism's philosophical descendents such as Derrida -
has allowed many of its valuable philosophical insights to be ignored. Thus, by
sticking close to the conceptual framework of the Writings, we shall be less
likely to slip into the subjectivist extremes by putting rational limits on any
efforts to indulge in excessively arbitrary and outlandishly subjective
readings that do violence to the essential nature of the text. Of course, this
is not to deny that the Writings can be read in various ways but it must be
remembered that the permissibility of
many readings does not assure the
permissibility of
any and all readings. Abdu'l-Bahá makes this clear
when, for example, he explicitly rejects any pantheistic (
SAQ, 290-296)
and re-incarnationist (
SAQ, 282-289) interpretations of the Sacred
Texts.
2) The Nature of Existentialism
At this point is necessary to provide a brief description of what
existentialism is and is not. In a nutshell, existentialism is an analysis of
the human situation from the point of view and experience of the human subject
who lives and acts in the world. In the language of Husserl, who exerted a
profound influence on existentialist thinkers, consciousness is intentional; it
is always about something. Consequently, the existential subject is an agent,
and is certainly not the thinking Cartesian subject who is so intellectually
isolated from the world that s/he cannot even be certain that an external world
exists! We might also say that the existential self is participational - it
actively participates in the world and thus prevents clear-cut and absolute
distinctions between subjects and objects. From the existentialist viewpoint,
Descartes' pure and simple subject-object distinction is merely an abstraction
from our original human situation and, while highly useful in the physical
sciences which deal with relatively simple objects, is considerably less useful
in dealing with more complex entities such as living creatures, human beings,
groups, and communities. The social sciences, for example, not only gather much
of their data in discussions, surveys or other 'participations' with subjects
but also require a great deal of personal interpretation of even impersonal
data such as crime statistics. Descartes' highly idealized subject-object
distinction rapidly breaks down at this point because knowledge itself has
become 'participational': our participation or inter-action with the knowledge
affects both the gathering of knowledge as well as our understanding of it. In
this situation, simple subject-object distinctions are no longer useful in
studying phenomena because they no longer reflect the actual conditions in
which the research is being done. Marcel speaks for all existentialists when he
writes that existentialism asserts "the primacy of the existential over the
ideal, with the added proviso that the existential must inevitably be related
to incarnate being, i.e. to the fact of being in the world" (
Creative
Fidelity, 21)
Existentialists also tend to agree with Sartre that existence precedes essence
- although there can be much variation in how we are to understand this. If we
understand it to say that by means of decisions in the actual process of
existence we create our own personalities, or selves or identities, then there
is agreement among existentialist all thinkers. However, this agreement would
vanish if we asserted that there is no such thing as a general human nature,
or, that there is no common structure in what Heidegger calls Dasein, that is,
human be-ing.
Being and Time, probaly the central work of modern
existentialism, dedicates itself to nothing less than outlining the structure
inherent in and, in that sense, essential to, all Dasein. Vital as it is, this
difference must not be allowed to obscure the fact that existentialist tend to
concentrate and agree on a number of issues: the essential role of freedom,
choice, risk and action; the importance of authentic existence and living in
good faith; the role of anxiety in illuminating the human situation; concern
and engagement with others and the world; the confrontation with human finitude
and death; the subject of God; the inherent limitations of abstract, rational
analysis, and the role of paradox in human existence. This mix of themes is
present whether the existentialist is an atheist such as Sartre or Camus, a
theist such as Kierkegaard and Marcel, or a non-theist such as the Heidegger of
Being and Time.
One of the most important things to understand is that existentialism is not
simply free-style opinionating (no matter how passionate) but rather a
philosophy that grows out of a careful analysis of the human situation. In
other words, regardless of their individual stances on particular issues, all
existential philosophies have a definable vision of how humans are situated vis
a vis the nature of reality, the social world we have constructed, our nature
as human beings ("Dasein" as Heidegger calls us, "pour-soi" according to
Sartre), the constraints under which we live and the challenges and
opportunities we face. To put the matter succinctly: human existence has a
particular structure that distinguishes it from the existence of things and
animals. Different forms of existentialism explore different aspects of this
structure, or explore it from various points of view, but all maintain that
human existence has its own essential characteristics. However, the resulting
differences notwithstanding, there is a family resemblance among their
analyses, conclusions and concerns (See Macquarrie's
Existentialism and
Collins'
The Existentialists for example).
3) The Unique Status of Human Existence
One of the principles that a Bahá'í existentialism shares with other
existentialisms is the notion that human existence is fundamentally different
from other forms of being. Whereas all other beings are 'in-themselves',
"en-soi" (
BN, Ixxiv; 95) and simply exist as they are without being
consciously present to themselves or feeling any inner conflicts about
themselves, humans alone are 'for-themselves', "pour-soi" (
BN, 89), that
is, consciously present to themselves and required to take a stance in regards
to themselves. They can choose - or refuse - to live for themselves. Thus,
human be-ing is fundamentally distinct from other kinds of be-ing. Heidegger
reserves the term "Dasein" for human be-ing to indicate that Dasein is
distinguished from other kinds of be-ings by that fact that we only ex-ist,
that is, consciously stand out from our environment and thus have certain
unique capabilities as well as liabilities. It is always concerned with "its
ownmost possibilities of Being in the world" (
BT, 137); elsewhere he
says, "Dasein exists as an entity for which, in its being, that being is itself
an issue".(
BT, 458). Similarly, Gabriel Marcel asserts that the human "
'I' cannot in any case whatsoever be treated as a 'that' because the 'I' is the
very negation of the 'that', of any 'that' whatsoever . . . " (
MB, Vol.
1, 110). The human " 'I' " (ibid.) cannot simply be assimilated into the world
of things. The Bahá'í Writings are in fundamental agreement with this analysis
of the human situation. Humankind is not simply a part of nature, but is
defined by its potential for rationality or "rational soul" (
SAQ, 151;
208) which not only distinguishes us from inanimate nature, plants and animals
(
SAQ, 208) but also has power over nature (
PUP, 30) but as well
as "no end" (
SAQ, 153). Furthermore, the exhortations to evolve, improve
and free ourselves (
Gleanings, CLI, 319;
TB, 95) indicate that
the Bahá'í Writings, like the existentialist philosophers view humans as being
present to themselves and being objects of action "for-themselves" (
BN,
89) and deeply concerned with their "ownmost possibilities" (
BT, 137).
In other words, they all agree that humankind is self-conscious in a way unlike
any other beings. For this reasons, unlike other creatures, we are able to make
ourselves into projects.
4) The Meaning of "To Exist"
The Bahá'í Writings and existential philosophy also share similar viewpoints of
what it means to "exist". The Writings refer to the 'call into being'
(
TB, 116;
Prayers and Meditations, 49;
Epistle to the Son of
the Wolf, 4) with its unmistakable suggestion that coming into existence
means to stand out from a background, "to emerge, to arise" (
MB, Vol. 2,
35). Elsewhere he writes that to exist means not just to be "present to my own
awareness" (
MB, Vol. 1,111) but also to be a "manifest being" (ibid.):
"I exist - that is as much to say: I have something to make myself known and
recognized both by others and by myself . . . "(ibid., 112). This is exactly
what the etymology of the word draws to our attention: ex - sistere. When
things come into existence, they appear, they show or reveal or manifest
themselves and are thus differentiated from their background of environment
(See
BT, 53-4) and, consequently, no longer hidden. This 'standing out'
is doubly true of humankind because we not only arise from or are called from
the cosmic background into appearance, but, as shown previously, we also exist
in another sense, insofar as we are "for-ourselves", are consciously concerned
for our "ownmost possibilities" (BT, 137) and can shape ourselves. We stand out
from other beings because we have freedom and choice. In this second sense,
humankind alone exists, although all other entities certainly have being: they
are, but not as conscious projects for themselves. From this point of view,
existentialism is a philosophy which seeks to reveal and clarify those aspects
that make human existence unique. This, of course, accords with the fact that
the very notion of a divine revelation to humankind presupposes that we are
different from other beings and have different "exigencies and requirements"
(
Gleanings, CVI, 213).
5) The Concept of Potentials
This paper will illustrate more specifically how a Bahá'í existentialism can
be grown from its Aristotelian conceptual substratum, by concentrating on an
examination of the concept of potentials, bearing in mind, of course, that a
mere paper can provide no more than an outline sketch of what needs to be said
in a full treatment. As already shown in the first part of this work, both the
Writings and Aristotle agree that human beings, like all other entities, are
essentially defined by their potentials (
PUP,38;
BWF, 262),
"possibilities" (
PUP, 113), "capacities" (ibid., 23;
BWF, 249),
"susceptibilities" (
PUP,23.) or "powers" (ibid.,17; 49). Bahá'u'lláh
tells us, "Regard man as a mine rich in gems of inestimable value"
(
Gleanings, CXXII, 260). Thus, humankind differs from animals in regards
to the capacity for rational and abstract thought, (
SAQ, 187;
BWF, 305) while human beings differ from one another in terms of innate
intellectual capacity (
SWAB, 131). Moreover, unlike animals, for us our
"ownmost-potentiality-for-Being is an issue (
BT, 225); humans are the
be-ings who wonder about themselves The Writings also tell us that human
potentials are inexhaustible since all of God's attributes are reflected in us
(
BWF, 311;
SAQ, 236). These facts raise several questions. How
are we to understand ourselves in light of them? What do they tell us about the
nature and structure of human existence and how we experience it?' What does it
mean to understand ourselves "in terms of [our] possibilities"? (
BT,
331; also 185).
6) Being "In Process" and "Being Toward"
If our species and individual essences (henceforth 'haecceitas') is defined by
our potentials then it follows that both as species and as individuals we are
always, in process and, therefore, incomplete. Marcel, for example, says that
the self is not a self-sufficient monad, but rather is, and is part of and
"uncompleted structure extending beyond the self" (
MB, Vol. 1, 82). We
are always, as Heidegger says, "Being toward a possibility" (
BT, 305).
On the individual level this is emphasized by the Bahá'í teaching on
immortality according to which we develop our potentials without end through
the "many worlds" (
The Seven Valleys and the Four Valleys, 32) of
God (
SAQ, 237). At the collective level, this is emphasized by the
Bahá'í view of human evolution as the gradual actualization and manifestation
of previously hidden potentials rather than the transformation of one species
into another (
SAQ, 198). It is, however, important to note that these
possibilities provide for a moderate freedom: while they allow, indeed, demand,
growth into particular directions they forbid it in others. We must not make
the mistake of thinking that 'being-toward-possibility' allows anything and
anything to be actualized since this would be license and not rational or "true
liberty" (
Gleanings, XLIII, 92). We must always remember that the
possibilities that define our humanity and our haecceitas are created by God
and are thus equivalent to divine commandments we are obligated to follow
(
Gleanings, CLIX, 335-336). Heidegger says that "The meaning of Dasein's
[human] Being is not something free-floating . . . but is the
self-understanding of Dasein itself" (
BT, 372). In short, we are to
understand - and actualize - ourselves according to how were to created and not
according to our "vain imaginings" (
TB, 41)
7) Being "Not-Yet"
Because we are 'being-toward-possibility', human beings (Heidegger's "Dasein")
are inevitably "not yet" (
BT, 286), that is, we are never completely
ourselves because we are works in progress rather than finished products. It
also means that "Dasein [a human being] is constantly 'more' than it factically
is" (
BT, 185) because of the unactualized potentials that make up our
essence. Both as a species and as individuals, we are "permeated with
possibility" (
BT, 186) that must always be taken into account if we are
to understand ourselves correctly and develop an accurate, authentic
self-image. These possibilities represent our more complete, future selves and
their mere presence - even as mere potentials - cannot help but influence us in
the present time: we can either accept them, reject them or ignore them but in
each case a decision of some kind is required. The influence of these
potentials in opening us up to further, more complete and development may be
understood as one way in which we experience the 'call into being' because we
are being called to actualize more complete versions of ourselves that are not
yet in existence.
This means that to some extent, we are always in the position of waiting for
ourselves and living in anticipation (
BT, 373; see also
BN, 43)
of a final identity. In the words of Heidegger, "Anticipation makes Dasein
[human beings] authentically
futural and in such a way that Dasein,
as being, is always coming towards itself. . . " (ibid.). Elsewhere he
says we are a "Being towards one's
ownmost, distinctive
potentiality-for-being" (
BT, 372; italics added). We are always
approaching, but never fully reaching, ourselves. As Sartre puts it, "man is
always separated from what he is by all the breadth of the being which he is
not . . . Man is a being of distances" (
BN, 21). Final identity recedes
like the horizon while forever drawing us onward. For some, such an
unrealizable project is an unpalatable vision that promises endless
frustration; Sartre, for example referred to humankind as a "useless passion"
(Sartre, quoted in
The Existentialists, 78). While that response is
certainly an option we can choose, it is not necessarily imposed on us. In the
Bahá'í vision of life and the after-life, the endless quest for ever more
adequate self-actualization is a positive vision reflecting the infinite glory
God has bestowed on humankind. We are all engaged on an endless voyage of
discovery in which every moment is both a sheltering harbor and a point of
departure. A Bahá'í existentialism would certainly have a more positive tone
and mood than the traditional forms of existentialism. Given the importance of
mood in existentialism, a positive mood would certainly be a radical departure
in the development of this philosophy.
The fact that we are a "being-toward" (
BT, 197), that, whether we are
conscious of it or not, our lives are innately vectored, have a direction and
live towards a particular future, namely, the actualization of our personal
potentials. Our lives are not simply intended to be a random and shapeless
succession of events no matter how pleasurable this might be because each of
human life is innately and inherently structured as a particular
"for-the-sake-of-which" (
BT,119). They exist
for something. In
other words, having a purpose is an inherent part of our being, and if we do
not consciously choose to have a purpose, some purpose, one of our own
potentials will, for better or worse, choose us. Then we do not live actively
but are lived by a part of ourselves that may not always be our most worthy
part. This passivity is one of the ways in which our lives can become
inauthentic, that is, we can lose our best potential while yet seeming to live
normal lives.
8) Self-Transcendence
Another way of portraying the fact that we are a "being-toward" (
BT,
197) and a "not-yet" (
BT, 286) is to say that humankind is
self-transcendent: we are always trying to overcome ourselves as we are in
favour of what we might be (
MB, Vol. 2, 101-2). Indeed, Marcel links
this "urgent inner need for transcendence" (
MB, Vol. 1, 68) to "an
aspiration towards purer and purer modes of experience" (ibid.). For his part,
Sartre links our urge for self-transcendence to the inherently doomed project
of becoming God. In short, almost all existentialist agree that if we live
authentically, that is, according to our human nature, we are inherently and
structurally unsatisfied with ourselves and seek to be better than we are which
suggests that we are inevitably plagued by varying degrees of
self-dissatisfaction. (This is not to say that existentialism or the Bahá'í
Writings endorse a self-crippling or self-destructive perfectionism that is a
pathological perversion of our innate dissatisfaction with ourselves.) This
self-transcendent function draws attention to the heroic potential within
ourselves. In other words, we can actively embrace our urge to
self-transcendence instead of merely enduring it passively, and thus make it a
conscious heroic self-conquest, self-overcoming; we have the option of choosing
self-overcoming as a way of life. Such a struggle is certainly inherent in
living as a Bahá'í. We must continuously purify ourselves, that is, live more
and more according to our natures as self-transcendent beings seeking higher
levels of spiritual attainment. We might call this an 'evolutionary heroism'
that seeks self-conquest as its major goal. To use Abdu'l-Bahá's enlightening
metaphor, this is the heroism of the lump of coal that struggles to become a
diamond (
SAQ, 234), a heroism that requires us to "cleanse [the] heart
from the world and all its vanities" (
Gleanings, CXIV, 237). The point
of this heroism is to transcend the current limits of the human condition, "to
draw nigh unto such stations as none can comprehend save those whom God hath
willed" (
Kitab-i-Aqdas, 56).
9) Self-Dissatisfaction
As already noted, it cannot be denied that given our nature as "not-yet"
(
BT, 286), we are bound to suffer a certain amount of eternal
dissatisfaction with or alienation from ourselves because it is impossible for
us to be 'all there'. In Marcel's words, "the need for transcendence presents
itself, above all, [as a] deeply experienced . . . kind of dissatisfaction"
(
MB, Vol. 1, 52).
Humans by their nature are bound to be restless and unsettled. While
Heidegger's Christian background leads him to interpret this dissatisfaction as
guilt, and to claim that "being-guilty belongs to Dasein's [human] being",
BT, 353) Bahá'ís can adopt a very different interpretation, one that is,
in fact, more logically in keeping with the belief that humans are always
becoming and "not-yet" (
BT, 286). The understanding that we are
"not-yet" (ibid.) does not logically necessitate despair or feelings of guilt.
Indeed, Bahá'ís can not merely accept but even embrace this innate
dissatisfaction as 'divine', as one of God's signs that we reflect the infinity
of His names (
BWF, 311), that we always face an open future, that we are
always free to remake and renew ourselves, that we face an infinite number of
new possibilities for actualization and, therefore, ought never to despair.
Literally, at every moment we can appropriate to ourselves personally
Bahá'u'lláh's words, "In every age and cycle He hath, through the splendorous
light shed by the Manifestations of His wondrous Essence, recreated all things,
so that whatsoever reflecteth in the heavens and on the earth the signs of His
glory may not be deprived of the outpourings of His mercy, nor despair of the
showers of His favors" (
Gleanings, XXVI, 62).
10) Detachment
Out of all this grows an ethic of detachment, starting at the most personal
level. Given our situation as perpetually incomplete, we should not be too
'stuck' on any current version of ourselves, but should, rather, practice the
art of detachment from our present personalities since they are all 'just
temporary'. "Cast away that which ye possess, and, on the wings of detachment,
soar beyond all created things." (
Gleanings, LXXII, 139). From this it
follows that feeling fully at one with themselves is not an authentic option
for Bahá'ís since any such feeling must, at best, be a temporary respite; if
such feelings persist, they will inevitably blind the possessors to their real
ontological circumstances as a perpetually unfinished work needing improvement.
Feelings of profound self-satisfaction with one's current condition and a
desire to prolong it are to be understood as signs of an inauthentic existence
at variance with our true ontological natures. Such a seriously flawed
self-image or self-understanding cannot help but lead to an inauthentic
existence with negative intellectual, emotional, spiritual and behavioral
consequences.
11) Dialectical Self-Conflict
We must remember that our current condition and identity are being constantly
undermined by the potentials of our future; in other words, our future selves
waiting for actualization are involved in an inherent and on-going dialectical
struggle with our present selves as we continuously re-create ourselves in new
and more adequate forms. It is our nature to be locked in this dialectical
self-conflict, and were it to stop, we would immediately fall into inauthentic
existence. Therefore, this condition is not to be regarded negatively, but
rather as part of our ontological identity as human beings. There is no doubt
that this internal self-conflict causes suffering, but we must learn to
understand this suffering as 'growing pains', as positive signs of our
advancement. Once again, we must appropriate to ourselves personally what
Bahá'u'lláh says about the conflicts in the world: "The fears and agitation
which the revelation of this law provokes in men's hearts should indeed be
likened to the cries of the suckling babe weaned from his mother's milk, if ye
be of them that perceive. Were men to discover the motivating purpose of God's
Revelation, they would assuredly cast away their fears, and, with hearts filled
with gratitude, rejoice with exceeding gladness" (
Gleanings, LXXXVIII,
175). There is no denial to the pains and agitations here - for that too would
be inauthentic - but rather they are re-interpreted by a higher level of
understanding. A Bahá'í existentialism does not dishonestly deny the painful
and negative aspects inherent to human existence - for all existences other
than God's are bound to suffer as a result of their ontological limitations - ;
instead, it re-interprets these negative aspects from the point of view of our
dynamic evolutionary development.
12) Progressive Revelation
At this point it becomes evident that the innate ontological structure and
dynamic of our personal lives reflects the Bahá'í Teaching of "progressive
revelation" (
Kitab-i-Aqdas, #126, p.280) in which certain essential
religious truths are recapitulated in new forms, and new divine potentials
released from them to match the intellectual, material and spiritual conditions
of new times. Ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny. To live authentically in
accordance with our essential natures - or in Sartre's terms, the innate
structure of the "pour-soi" - both the human species and individuals are
required to grow, to overcome their own collective and personal "ancestral
forms" (
PUP, 127) and advance into higher, that is, more subtle, more
inclusive and more adequate versions of ourselves. They must do so despite the
fact that the process inevitably involves overcoming pain, cherished
preconceptions and deeply rooted preferences. However, the alternative is to
suffer even more difficulties as a result of adopting an inauthentic existence
that violates our inherent ontological natures. Continuing to walk in shoes
that are self-flattering and attractive but too small is simply not a viable
solution to foot-growth.
The fact that we are continuously actualizing our potentials also means that we
are capable of failure; indeed, we risk - and, for the sake of growth, must
risk - failure on an on-going basis if we are to develop. Being a Bahá'í
provides no exemption from risk as an inherent part of human existence. Thus,
the refusal to undertake risks for self-actualization is, in effect, a refusal
to be oneself which is itself a refusal to be, or, even worse, an outright
rejection of oneself. In flight from our possibilities, we fall away from
ourselves and. consequently, never become authentically real in our proper
identities. Lacking what Paul Tillich calls "the courage to be" (
The Courage
to Be) one can easily attain succumb to the feeling "of being condemned -
not to an external punishment but to the despair of having lost our destiny"
(ibid., 59). If we are not ourselves, who are we?
13) Fallen Existence
In Heidegger's terms, we develop a 'fugitive way of saying 'I' " (
BT,
368) which is "motivated by Dasein's [human] falling; for as falling, it flees
in the face of itself into the 'they'." (ibid.). Even though this 'I' seems
normal enough to outsiders and even ourselves, "[w]hen the 'I' talks in the
'natural' manner, this is performed by the they-self" (ibid.), that is, the
mass ('Das Man') or crowd identity we inevitably take on when our lives are not
filled with genuine content. The crowd speaks and acts through us; we have been
appropriated by the crowd. As Heidegger puts it, "It itself is not; Being has
been taken away by the Others" (
BT, 164) although this "inconspicuous
domination" (ibid.) may not always be obvious. As a result, "[o]ne belongs to
the Others oneself and enhances their power" (ibid.) by becoming
"
dispersed into the 'they' " (
BT, 167). We have "fallen away"
(
BT, 220) from our true possibilities and suffer from "alienation
[Entfremdung] in which [our] ownmost potentiality-for-Being is hidden from
[us]" (
BT, 222). Heidegger, like all existentialists philosophers,
rejects this kind of inauthentic existence. So do the Bahá'í Writings which
make each of us responsible for our own actions and do not allow us to slough
off responsibility for our lives on others. "If, in the Day when all the
peoples of the earth will be gathered together, any man should, whilst standing
in the presence of God, be asked: "Wherefore hast thou disbelieved in My Beauty
and turned away from My Self," and if such a man should reply and say:
"Inasmuch as all men have erred, and none hath been found willing to turn his
face to the Truth, I, too, following their example, have grievously failed to
recognize the Beauty of the Eternal," such a plea will, assuredly, be rejected.
For the faith of no man can be conditioned by any one except himself"
(
Gleanings, LXXV, 143; italics added). In other words, there is no
refuge and no flight from personal responsibility in the mass or what Heidegger
calls the "they-self" (
BT, 368). Each is expected to be an authentic
'thyself' and not someone else; this challenges us all with the duty to
actualize our unique combination of potentials. Furthermore, the Writings
exhort each of us to "see with thine own eyes and not through the eyes of
others" (
TB, 37) and to "know of thine own knowledge and not through the
knowledge of thy neighbour" (ibid.). We cannot see with our own eyes and know
through our own knowledge if we are not first authentically ourselves. That is
why we need to be what Heidegger calls "resolute" (
BT, 443):
"Resoluteness constitutes the
loyalty of existence to its own Self"
(ibid.).
Lest any misunderstandings arise, it is necessary to point out that neither
existentialism nor the Bahá'í Writings envision humans as totally detached from
the world and their fellow beings. The issue is not so much attachment as the
quality of attachment, that is, whether or not attachment is authentic. Indeed,
the Writings instruct us to "Be anxiously concerned with the needs of the age
ye live in, and center your deliberations on its exigencies and requirements"
(
Gleanings, CVI, 213). A clearer injunction for positive involvement
with the world cannot be imagined. However, it is obvious that we cannot be
genuinely concerned for the needs of our time if we fail to self-actualize and
become part of the mass, or 'They' whose needs require our care. Nor can our
anxious concern "for the needs of the age" (ibid.) be genuine if we are merely
working out personal problems in the public arena. Thus, seeking appropriate
self-actualization of our possibilities is not a selfish act but is the
necessary first step in meeting the "needs of the age [we] live in" (ibid.) and
one that is often forgotten. To genuinely help the age we must think for
ourselves (
TB, 37) because if we don't, we simply become part of the
problem and obscure the issues. Heidegger makes a similar point: "If Dasein
discovers the world in its own way [eigens] and brings it close, if it
discloses itself to itself its authentic Being, then this discovery of the
'world' and this disclosure of Dasein are always accomplished as a
clearing-away of concealments and obscurities . . . " (
BT, 167). Gabriel
Marcel for his part describes this social existence of humankind as our
"intersubjectivity" (
MB, Vol. 2, 39).
Furthermore, being resolute, or avoiding "fallen-ness" (
BT, 220) is also
a socially beneficial act since a genuine community in which genuine
consultation occurs, can only be found among people who are authentically
themselves, and see with their own eyes and speak their own thoughts. The best
way for us to help create such a community is to be such a person ourselves
which is precisely what the Bahá'í Writings demand. As Heidegger writes,
"Dasein's resoluteness towards itself is what first makes it possible to let
Others who are with it be in their ownmost potentiality-for-being, and to
co-disclose this potentiality in the solicitude which leaps forth and liberates
. . . Only by authentically Being-their--Selves in resoluteness can people
authentically be with one another - not by ambiguous and jealous stipulations"
and talkative fraternizing in the "they" . . . " (
BT, 344-5). By
self-actualizing, each of us attains the authentic being that lets us serve as
an example for others.
14) Anxiety
The fact that we are always susceptible "falling" (
BT, 399) into
inauthentic being makes a certain amount of anxiety structurally inherent in
human existence. For Heidegger, the anxiety provoked by this prone-ness to
falling is the origin of the conscience, since the experience of anxiety is the
sign of having or developing a conscience. Thus we should welcome anxiety
because it is proof of "wanting-to-have-a-conscience" (
BT, 342) which
ultimately helps us to gain, preserve and regain our authenticity as we go
through life. It is precisely this anxiety which eventually helps us attain
that "resoluteness . . . [which is] that truth of Dasein which is most
primordial because it is authentic" (
BT, 343). Such anxiety is a natural
part of being ourselves and we would, in fact, not be well off if this natural
anxiety were absent since that would lower our level of concern about our
existential condition. The resulting carelessness would not serve us well
neither as individuals nor as a community. Clearly, this anxiety is not to be
understood as a kind of panic but rather as what Abdu'l-Bahá calls "due
concern" (
SDC, 11). In the same way, Bahá'u'lláh tells us that we should
feel "concern" (
Gleanings, CXX, 254; also CXLIVII, 316 ) "only for that
which profiteth mankind, and bettereth the condition thereof (ibid.). As we
have already seen, concern for improving the human condition includes
self-actualization of one's potentialities and the attainment of authentic
identity. From this we can see that the Bahá'í Writings accept a certain amount
of anxiety and concern as an inevitable part of the human condition This idea
is also inherent in the notion that eventually "Ye shall, most certainly,
return to God, and shall be called to account for your doings in the presence
of Him Who shall gather together the entire creation..." (
Gleanings,
CXVI, 247; see also LXV, 124). This idea is further emphasized by the
injunction to "weigh in that Balance thine actions
every day, every moment
of thy life. Bring thyself to account ere thou art summoned to a reckoning,
(
Gleanings, CXIV, 236; italics added). In other words, there is a kind
of salutary and growth-promoting anxiety that we must not only learn to live
with but accept as a positive part of the human condition. Because this kind of
existential anxiety serves a positive life-enhancing function for individuals
and communities, it must not be confused with the debilitating fears and
phobias that prevent personal and social life from being lived to their full
potential.
Anxiety not only reveals the continuing possibility of inauthentic existence,
it also discloses our situation in the world. According to Heidegger, in
anxiety we face our "ownmost-Being-thrown" (
BT, 393), that is, confront
the fact that we simply exist and that there is no humanly discernible or
rational reason why this should be so. We simply are, and find ourselves
be-ing: "Dasein has been
thrown into existence" (
BT, 321; italics
added). Sartre also uses this term (
BN, 53). It is precisely on this
point that the Bahá'í Writings offer an alternative direction in the
development of existentialism. Rather than seeing humankind as "thrown" (ibid.)
into existence, a view that in the case of Sartre and Camus, leads to the
judgment that existence is somehow absurd and inherently meaningless, the
Bahá'í Writings view man and indeed, the entire universe as
called into
being (
Prayers and Meditations, 177; 208; 251;
Gleanings, XIV,
29; XCIV, 193; CXXII, 260). The view that we are "thrown" into existence is a
consequence of failing to take into account the fact that the universe and all
its inhabitants are the creations of a supreme Being who called everything into
being for a particular purpose in the evolutionary world process. We only feel
"thrown" when foreshorten our vision and ignore the existence of God. Whereas
"thrown" connotes a disorderly, haphazard, undignified and even violent arrival
which might easily lead to sense of worthlessness, carelessness and despair,
being called suggests that each thing is wanted, has a place and a task, is
invested with the natural dignity and possesses inherent value. Contrary to
superficial expectations this does not ease the challenges that we face.
Indeed, it intensifies them because being inauthentic is not just being untrue
to ourselves but is also a rebellion against God's will. God's call is to a
particular person who must not squander this call by trying to be someone else;
it is issued to our authentic potentials. We must not "flee[] to the relief
which comes with the supposed freedom of the they-self" (
BT, 321). Nor
can we dismiss this call as absurd since God has His reasons in each case. This
fact is emphasized by the Bab's prayer which states that "All are His servants
and all abide by His bidding" (
Bahá'í Prayers).In other words, human
existence is inherently meaningful even though we do not always actualize this
meaning successfully. This is one issue on which a Bahá'í existentialism
differs radically from the atheistic existentialism of Sartre and Camus.
15) Not-belonging
Anxiety also reveals our human condition as " 'not-at-home' - the bare
'that-it-is' in the 'nothing' of the world" (
BT, 321). Unlike other
entities and creatures, humans are not fully at home in the world insofar as we
possess conscious capabilities other creatures lack. We cannot live with the
sensual contentedness of a cow, nor, as Abdu'l-Bahá noted, should we because to
do so means not actualizing our true potentials (
PUP, 262). Through
their emphasis on detachment from the world, the Bahá'í Writings also emphasize
that humankind neither is nor should ever be as at home in the world as
animals. "[T]he contingent world is the source of imperfections" (
SAQ,
5) and humans should be focussed on divine perfections. Indeed, relative to the
divine perfections we are intended to actualize, the world is as 'nothing' and
we must neither over-value nor undervalue it. In one sense, the world is
certainly an illusion, a mirage, a nothing (
SAQ, 278), and, if we
foreshorten our vision to exclude God, we will indeed find ourselves "thrown"
into nothingness or into a meaningless, seething mass of being (see Sartre's
Nausea). This feeling of not-being-at-home or not-belonging (often
unsatisfactorily translated as "uncanniness" [
BT, 321] ) is something
that all Bahá'ís can recognize and which the Writings, to a certain extent,
approve (
Paris Talks, 85;
SAQ, 278). Our recognition of the
situation in which we are
in but not fully
of nature, readily
leads to anxiety about our true place, our 'home' and our belonging. One of the
reasons for the arrival of Manifestations is to alleviate this structurally
inherent anxiety and to help us direct this emotional energy to the divine
world where we really belong. That, after all, is why we have a soul which
survives our physical being and undergoes an eternity of spiritual evolution.
However, the feeling of not-being-at-home is something that is structurally
inherent in our existence and is something we continuously have to learn to
live with. After all, it plays a positive role in reminding us that in the long
run, we do not really belong here.
16) Resoluteness and the Call Into Being
The issues of resoluteness, anxiety and "the call into being"
(
Gleanings, XIV, 29) lead naturally to what we might refer to as the
'call
of being', namely the fact that through anxiety, we hear "the call
of conscience [that] summons us to our potentiality-for-Being" (
BT,
347). This has two consequences. First, anxiety reveals our freedom to choose
for or against the actualization of our possibilities (
BT, 237); it
discloses the fact that human be-ing is "characterized by freedom" (ibid.), a
view that underlies the foundation of all Bahá'í ethics. This freedom which
can, of course, be frightening because it marks the beginning of
responsibilities for the conduct of one's life. Second, through anxiety,
conscience summons us to an authentic existence by calling on us to
self-actualization. "When the call of conscience is understood, lostness in the
'they' is revealed. Resoluteness brings Dasein back to its ownmost
potentiality-for-Being-itself" (
BT, 354). The call of conscience "calls
Dasein forth (and forward) to its ownmost possibilities, as a summons to its
ownmost potentiality-for-Being-its-Self" (
BT, 318). However, where does
this call come from, especially since it is often "against our expectations and
even against our will" (
BT, 320)? According to Heidegger, "[t]he call
comes
from me and yet
from beyond me and over me" (ibid.). In
other words, "the call of conscience" (
BT, 347) originates as a call
from our unactualized potentials, projecting the influence of their presence
into our lives; these unactualized potentials are our own future possible
selves and their presence makes us uneasy about what we are doing with
ourselves. Thus,
"[i]n conscience Dasein calls itself" (
BT, 320).
However, the calls also comes from outside, a fact that Heidegger recognizes
but is hard to explain since in
Being and Time, he lacks recourse to God
even though the existence of such a "Great Being" (
TB, 162) is mandated
by his analysis of the structure of human be-ing. The Bahá'í Writings suffer no
such disadvantage, and can frankly assert that the call of being and the call
of conscience are one and same and are signs of God's action in the world
through the anxious state of mind or "mood" (
BT, 296). This fact does
not lessen the call or make it somehow less pressing; rather, the opposite is
true. By neglecting the call to authentic being, we are not merely choosing to
live inauthentically, but are choosing to ignore the will of the Creator.
However, while living in bad faith with oneself, that is, violating one's own
essential nature can be written off as a private affair in a godless world, it
is a more serious matter to compound it by rebellion against God's will.
At this point, a clarification is required. We must not make the mistake of
taking Heidegger's call of conscience as something negative because it
"discloses Dasein's most primordial potentiality-for-Being" as Being-guilty"
(
BT, 334).This call is "
positive" (ibid.) insofar as the capacity
to be guilty first requires a capacity, a freedom, a potential to choose
authentic self-actualization. We cannot be guilty of failing to self-actualize
without first having the potential to do so. Thus, anxiety and guilt are
positive insofar as they attest to the possibility of self-actualization:
conscience is "intelligible as an attestation of Dasein's ownmost
potentiality-for-Being" (
BT, 324). Indeed, these feelings of guilt allow
us to be "summoned out of one's lostness in the 'they' "(
BT, 445).
17) A Problem With Conscience
However, even this positive view of the call of conscience still leaves
us - and Heidegger's philosophy - with a problem: is conscience by itself
actually capable of empowering us to return from our fallen state back into
authenticity? As John Macquarrie says, conscience "can at best
awaken in
fallen man the awareness of lost possibility of being. It can disclose to him
his ontological possibility of authenticity.
But it cannot by any means
empower him to choose that possibility" ((
An Existentialist
Theology, 139; italics added). He adds, "And now it appears that only some
Power outside man, some Power not fallen as man is fallen, can bring man to
this concrete possibility of regaining his authentic being" (ibid.). The mere
awareness of our fallen state is not in itself enough to enable us to lift
ourselves out of it; the inability to help ourselves despite our knowledge is
an integral part of our inauthentic existence. This means that we require
external aid to empower us to take the steps needed to recover authentic being.
Although other human beings can fulfill that function to a certain extent,
ultimately we require God, and God's "existentiell" (ibid.), that is, concrete
appearance in history as the Manifestation to return to us in our fallen
condition, the power to make choice for an authentic existence. As Bahá'u'lláh
says, "Neither the candle nor the lamp can be lighted through their own unaided
efforts, nor can it ever be possible for the mirror to free itself from its
dross (
Gleanings, XXVII, 66). God and the Manifestations restore our
potential for authenticity to us. Of course, neither God nor the Manifestation
actually make that choice for us but rather, they enable us to make the choice
for authentic being. That is why the physician metaphor plays such a prominent
role in the Bahá'í Writings: what does a physician do except enable our body to
recover its ability to function independently as it was originally intended to?
18) The Role of the Manifestation
One might, of course, also ask how the Manifestation fulfills His or Her role
as an empowering physician. Undoubtedly the first step is to reorient
ourselves, to become like the mirrors that turn to the sun and are thus
empowered to its light (
PUP, 4); there is, as Macquarrie says, "a
complete re-orientation of the self" (
ET, 187) which reverses the
direction of the will so that we begin to polish the mirrors of our souls and,
thereby, regain authenticity. The question remains as to how this
re-orientation takes place; how does the fallen, inauthentic individual gain
the power to re-orient himself to the Manifestation so as to empower himself to
change. The Bahá'í Writings contain various exhortations to do so: Bahá'u'lláh
says, "The whole duty of man in this Day is to attain that share of the flood
of grace which God poureth forth for him" (
Gleanings, V, 8) and
Abdu'l-Bahá says, "The most important thing is to polish the mirrors of hearts
in order that they may become illumined and receptive of the divine light
(
PUP, 14). These quotes suggest that we are able to achieve this by
ourselves, as does the following: "There can be no doubt whatever that, in
consequence of the efforts which every man may consciously exert and as a
result of the exertion of his own spiritual faculties, this mirror can be so
cleansed from the dross of earthly defilements . . . " (
Gleanings,
CXXIV, 261). It should be noted in passing that this latter quote does not
contradict Bahá'u'lláh's previous statement about the impossibility of "unaided
efforts" (
Gleanings, XXVII,66) to cleanse the mirror or light the lamp,
that is, re-orient us, because the effort we make, while not sufficient in
itself, is the pre-condition for receiving the divine aid that allows us to
achieve success.
However, we must still ask, how are individuals enabled to turn towards the sun
or to even begin cleansing the mirror of their souls. The answer lies in the
following quotations from Bahá'u'lláh: "This is the Day in which God's most
excellent favors have been poured out upon men, the Day in which His most
mighty grace hath been infused into all created things (
Gleanings, V,
6); "Its [The Name of God] grace is being poured out upon men"
(
Gleanings, IX, 12); and finally, "Whatever duty Thou hast prescribed
unto Thy servants of extolling to the utmost Thy majesty and glory is but a
token of Thy grace unto them, that they may be
enabled to ascend unto
the station conferred upon their own inmost being, the station of the knowledge
of their own selves (
Gleanings, I, 4-5; italics added). These quotations
make it clear that all human beings have been divinely endowed with the power
and freedom to re-orient themselves to God. This power and freedom is an
inherent part of the structure of human existence and can, therefore, not be
removed or lost: it is always available, which is why Bahá'u'lláh tells us that
"he faith of no man can be conditioned by any one except himself"
(
Gleanings, LXXV, 143). In other words, power and the resulting freedom
are innately bestowed on human nature and cannot be avoided or lost. Part of
the anxiety of inauthentic existence is that even the most self-alienated
person retains a vestigal awareness of his or her power and freedom to choose
authenticity. On this score, a Bahá'í existentialism is as radical an exponent
of human freedom as Sartre according to whom we are always able to choose
between living in good or "bad faith" (
BN, 59). If we ask, about what
can make people
want to re-orient towards God, even if they know, as the
Writings assure us, God's grace or empowerment is shed on all beings alike
(
Gleanings, X, 12), we have no answer but the mystery of human freedom.
Like Berdyaev's "Ungrund" (
The Destiny of Man, 25), the human spirit is,
at bottom, a radical freedom that is unfathomable to anyone else save God.
19) "Being-Toward-Death"
Because we are continuously changing (
SAQ, 233), it follows that our
identities are continuously dying as we cast aside outmoded, no longer adequate
selves in order actualize new possibilities. This is one way in which human
beings are what Heidegger calls "Being-towards-death" (
BT, 310) since we
are, in fact, constantly striving to re-invent ourselves. We die daily, indeed,
during periods of challenging, rapid growth or, at times of crisis, hourly or
even from moment to moment. It is one of the great paradoxes of human existence
that dying is our most authentic way of life. In the words of Abdu'l-Bahá,
"Until a being setteth his foot in the plane of sacrifice, he is bereft of
every favour and grace; and this plane of sacrifice is the realm of dying to
the self, that the radiance of the living God may then shine forth. The
martyr's field is the place of detachment from self, that the anthems of
eternity may be upraised" (
SWAB, 76). We thus live in perpetual
anticipation of death, of which the death of the physical body is only one.
Indeed, the Bahá'í Writings encourage the daily practice of
"Being-towards-death" (
BT, 310) when they tell us to "weigh in that
Balance thine actions every day, every moment of thy life. Bring thyself to
account ere thou art summoned to a reckoning " (
Gleanings, CXIV, 236).
However, we must not let fear, based on a false understanding, drive us into
despair. This is a challenge because death reveals itself to us through anxiety
(
BT, 310) which emphasizes for us that death is always personal; death
"individualizes Dasein" (ibid.) as Heidegger says. "In this state-of-mind,
Dasein finds itself
face to face with the "nothing . . . " (ibid.). As
Heidegger points out, this anxiety has a positive function insofar as it means
that we have consciously understood and personally appropriated our ontological
situation. Anxiety is the sign that we 'get it'. Though this "nothing" (ibid.)
is quite real and, to the self, can be quite frightening, the fact remains that
in a universe in which we constantly actualize new potentials, this "nothing"
exists from the point of view of the self that is about to be replaced by its
successor. The anxiety is real and should not be denied, but rather must be put
into its proper ontological perspective. Paradoxically, the anxiety announces
both the death pangs of one self and the birth pangs of another. There is cause
for some sorrow - as when, for example, we leave childhood behind - while at
the same time, there is cause for joyous as well as apprehensive anticipation.
Once again, we can see how the Bahá'í Writings lead us to a more accurate and
more positive understanding of our existential situation.
20) "Being-Toward-Death" and Freedom
Once understood and appropriated for oneself, "Being-towards-death" (ibid.) is
also a source of ontological freedom because it frees us from any undue
attachment to former versions of ourselves. There is no point in holding on to
a version of oneself that, if things go well and real growth occurs, is doomed
to pass out of existence. At this point, we cannot help but remember
Bahá'u'lláh's statement, "I have made death a messenger of joy to thee.
Wherefore dost thou grieve? I made the light to shed on thee its splendor. Why
dost thou veil thyself therefrom?" (
The Hidden Words, #32). Death
is "a messenger of joy" because the dying of one identity is a pre-requisite
for a more adequate identity, just as our physical dying is a pre-requisite for
entrance into the Abha Kingdom. It is the death that precedes a birth and a
life of encountering opportunities.
21) Evolutionary Humility
These facts provide an ontological basis for encouraging what we might call
'evolutionary humility', the realization that we are, at best, partial,
certainly not our best, nor, given an eternity of development ahead of us, even
'very good'. If we view ourselves from the viewpoint of eternity, we are bound
to feel very inadequate. In other words, the Bahá'í teachings about the
importance of humility are not simply matters of sentiment or social philosophy
but have deep ontological roots. We may respond either hide this feeling and
its causes from ourselves and thus live inauthentically or, we may face the
fact and feel a deep inner necessity for renewing our efforts to evolve by
working harder to actualize our potentials.
This rather sober view must be balanced with the understanding that we human
beings are, collectively and individually, on a voyage without end, an eternal
voyage of discovery in which ever new aspects of ourselves are disclosed to
ourselves and in which we disclose ever-new aspects of creation (
SAQ,
ch.62). The fact that we are perpetually incomplete beings with an eternity of
potentials yet to be realized not only humbles us, but should also inspire hope
because no act is ever the final judgment on us. What others see in this world,
and perhaps even our own feelings notwithstanding, we are never just what we
seem. This means that our transgressions are not final in the sense that they
sum up what we are since there is always more to us, if not in this world, then
in the next. We are not simply the sum total of our deeds and thoughts but also
the more that lies ahead of us. In regard to this 'more', human being is
always, as Heidegger says, "ahead-of-itself" (
BT, 279); he adds, that
"in Dasein [human beings] there is always something
still outstanding"
(ibid.). Also noteworthy here is the future orientation which shows itself to
be an integral part of the ontological structure of our existence. We are, as
Heidegger says, a "Being towards" (
BT, 197).
22) Being an "Inexhaustible Mystery"
Another way of viewing our inherent incompleteness is to say that we are an
"inexhaustible mystery" (
Existentialism, 29). As the Writings say,
"Regard man as a mine rich in gems of inestimable value" (
Gleanings,
CXXII, 260; see also
SAQ, chp. 64). Consequently, human beings are
always mysterious to themselves, and experience themselves as a mystery, as
something that by its very nature can never be fully understood. No amount of
factual information can ever provide exhaustive knowledge of even a single
person, for, as the Bahá'í Writings say, "Man is My mystery, and I am his
mystery" (
Gleanings, XC, 177). This is also what the theistic
existentialist Gabriel Marcel is getting at in the title of his two volume
The Mystery of Being and this is precisely the main point of
Kierkegaard's entire oeuvre and his objection to Hegel: human beings are
inherently mysterious and cannot be adequately summed up by any abstract,
intellectualized system (
MB, Vol. 1, 164). How we personally experience
our mysteriousness can vary greatly. Some, like the Russian theistic
existentialist Nicolas Berdyaev, experience it as an utterly inexplicable
irrationality that proves our absolute freedom and creativity beyond any
rational, logical limitations (
Truth and Revelation, 77); others, such
as the French atheist existentialists Sartre and Camus experience it as further
evidence of our inherent absurdity. Negatively, it might even be experienced as
something frightful or even terrifying since whatever is inexhaustible might
also be felt as an abyss. Others might experience this mysteriousness with a
sense of awe and humility or even gratitude that we have been so richly
endowed. Perhaps most interestingly, this inner "inexhaustible mystery"
(
Existentialism, 29) might be experienced as an profound inner emptiness
- an emptiness that is, paradoxically, also profoundly full of endless
potentials. This line of thought draws an existential understanding of the
Bahá'í Writings closer to Buddhism and Taoism.
Our incompleteness is also the source of our inherent creativity as we struggle
to find new and more adequate ways to actualize our potentials in the midst of
an ever-changing world. This means that we are inherently creative beings who
are continuously bringing novelty into this world by manifesting potentials
that have previously been hidden. Indeed, humankind also creatively serves
cosmic evolution and reveals novelties by bringing out the hidden potentials of
matter in our various inventions (
SAQ, 186). Consequently, in an
authentic existence we are first of all self-creators, beings who fashion their
personal identities from their own combination of potentials and circumstances.
In that sense we may consider ourselves as the authors of the 'novels' of our
lives wherein each day is a new page that we write. Out of our individual
struggles to 'be more', the arts and sciences develop as we work to actualize
our expressive and intellectual potentials to an ever greater degree.
23) Creativity and Freedom
Because creativity requires the choices about how to use (or not use or
mis-use) these potentials, our incomplete nature is, therefor, another source
of our freedom. It is an axiom of all forms of existentialism that humankind
possesses freedom, that is, individuals have the freedom to create themselves
by means of their own choices. Indeed, some existentialists such as Sartre go
so far as to deny the very existence of a human nature because that would
restrict our freedom to be true self-creators who can take full responsibility
for their choices. This, according to Sartre, is the meaning of saying that
existence precedes essence. Sartre, of course, has never come satisfactorily to
terms with the fact that his entire magnum opus,
Being and Nothingness,
is a study of the underlying and inherent structure of all "pour-soi", that is,
human existence, and that this structure, in effect, functions as an essence
imposed upon all human beings. Be that as it may, a Bahá'í existentialism does
not go to Sartre's extreme. As already demonstrated, the Bahá'í Writings
maintain that there is a human nature and that we freely make our moral,
self-constituting choices within the framework it provides. For example, simply
by being born human, we are endowed with an immortal rational soul in addition
to our animal natures. This endowment makes certain choices appropriate and
inappropriate for us - although it is clear that we are able to choose unwisely
and inappropriately (
SAQ, 248). Each of these choices make up what we
might call our 'volitional selves', that is, the identities built up on the
basis of choosing to actualize particular human and/or animal potentials. In
the Bahá'í view, we are not free to determine our human nature but, more
importantly, we are free to personally create our volitional selves by means of
choices. Paradoxically, we are not merely free to do so but are morally
required to do so, thus adding Bahá'í assent to Sartre's proposition that we
are "condemned to be free" (SARTRE .....). Those who wish to escape this fate
and live "inauthentically" or in "bad faith" (
BN, 56) can only do so by
escaping into excessive attachment to the world, and allowing the dictates of
the crowd, or mass to determine their lives for them. Marcel's rather striking
way of pointing this out is to say that "we are all tending to become
bureaucrats, and not only of our outward behavior, but in our relations with
ourselves" (
MB, Vol. 1, 112).
24) Man and Super-man
The fact that we - both collectively and individually - are essentially
incomplete beings, provides a logical basis for the Bahá'í Faith's evolutionary
view of humankind for if it were possible for us to reach completion, then our
evolution would stop. But such is not our nature as the Bahá'í Writings make
clear (
SAQ, 233). A human being in the words of Marcel is "a wanderer,
an itinerant being, who cannot come to absolute rest except by a fiction, a
fiction which it is the duty of philosophic reflection to oppose with all its
strength" (
MB, Vol., 164). The end of change and development would, in
effect mean that we had a new essence. However, as the Writings tell us
(
SWAB, 132;
SAQ, 184) the human essence cannot change even though
it may change its outward, phenomenal form just as coal may become a diamond
(
SAQ, 234) without changing its nature as carbon. Thus, we are innately
incomplete beings, a fact also emphasized by the teaching of an eternity of
personal evolution that wait us in the life after death. When we understand
ourselves as essentially incomplete beings at the species level, it becomes
obvious that each point in our species development is only a transition, a
temporary phase to a still higher level of development. In other words, we
today are only a bridge to something better and more advanced than ourselves, a
fact that should inspire a sense of evolutionary humility. Indeed, our task is
to reach the next stage of development as rapidly as we can, which means, in
effect, to actualize our next highest potential and, thereby, make our current
selves obsolete. We must, in short, understand ourselves as just a phase we're
going through! This understanding of our species as well as our individual
existences bears obvious affinities to Nietzsche's theory of the super-man or
Uebermensch since in both views, humans regard themselves as a transition to
something better (
Thus Spoke Zarathustra, Bk. Four). Of course, whereas
Bahá'ís and Nietzsche agree that the new 'super-man' has a superior intellect
(
SWAB,141) and moral system (
SWAB, 136), they will not
necessarily agree on the content of this new moral system. However, it cannot
be denied that the evolutionary outlook inherent in the Bahá'í Writings leads
to a vision of becoming a type of human superior to what we are today although
we can never exceed our ontological human status. It should also be noted in
passing that this evolutionary view also follows logically from the Bahá'í
Teaching that all things are perpetually in motion (
SAQ, 233). If we are
part of a line of development, any particular place in the line, is a
transitional phase to the next point. This, too, gives rise to a view of
current humankind as a transitional being.
It bears pointing out that even an atheist existentialist such as Sartre
recognizes this self-transcendent function in human beings, that is, the notion
that ultimately human beings want to be more than what they currently are. In
Sartre's rather extreme view, human beings want to be God, even though this
project is, by definition bound to fail. We are, in Sartre's memorable phrase
"a useless passion" (
BN quoted in
The Existentialists, 78). Thus
God - although according to Sartre, no such entity actually exists - returns to
philosophy as the "object of desire" as Aristotle calls the First Mover. Not
only does this, a la Schleiermacher, reverse the usual theological categories
and make God
our creation but also dooms humankind to frustration in the
face of its own creation.
Understanding and accepting our "itinerant condition" (
MB, Vol. 1, 164)
as transitional figures provides a logical and scientific basis for the Bahá'í
Faith's profound metaphysical optimism. If we are only transient beings, then,
for starters, we must not take ourselves too seriously, because at any given
stage, we are only something to be overcome for something better. There is no
reason to despair at this - we are, after all, on the way to an improvement -
but at the same time, there is no reason for self-satisfaction let alone
smugness. Indeed, hope is an inherent part of the structure of human be-ing
since there are an infinity of new possibilities to actualize.
25) Traveler Ethics
Not taking ourselves too seriously, that is, not taking ourselves as the final
endpoint for evolution, is also the rational basis for tolerance of others.
This allows the Bahá'í Faith to present tolerance not 'merely' as a matter of
sentiment and good feeling but to present it as a rational, indeed, scientific
response to human diversity. No individual is ever at their last stage of
development; everyone is a "mental traveler" (Blake) on the way to something
else and if we can see a person is stuck in a negative mode, we seek to find
ways of helping him to move on from it. (A mundane observation: if a car with a
flat tire is blocking the road, helping the driver fix it is the best way to
continue your own travels.) The fact that we all inherently incomplete also
provides a rational basis for an evolutionary modesty. Modesty is not simply a
nice that smoothes social relations, but is also a rational response to our
actual position in the species and our personal evolutionary process. Finally,
it bears pointing out that understanding ourselves as beings in transit and in
perpetual change leads inevitably to varying degrees of good humor, a good
humor based not so much on temperament as on a metaphysical awareness that we
are inherently designed to improve. This cannot help but remind us of the
on-going laughter of Nietzsche's super-man Zarathustra and, indeed, of the
figure of the laughing Buddha in the East.
Understanding ourselves as transitional figures has profound implications for
living. It provides a logical and scientific basis for the Bahá'í teaching
about the usefulness of tests and challenges. They are, indeed, necessary in
order for us to actualize our higher moral potentials for which reason for
which reason one of our prayers reads, "O Thou Whose tests are a healing
medicine to such as are nigh unto Thee ..." (
Prayers and Meditations,
CXXXIII, 220). Those who understand our transitional nature will immediately
see why this not only is but must be so since without challenges there can be
no growth (
Paris Talks, 51). In fact, we will find that it is
often through difficult challenges that we make the most progress in
actualizing our various possibilities. This not only affects our attitude but
also trains our minds to become aware of and actively seek out the
opportunities that arrive with many problems.
However, there is also a serious challenge to any and all ethical systems if we
are essentially transitional figures or travelers: what is the point of 'being
true' to someone or a principle in a world of perpetual flux? Indeed, can there
even be such a thing as 'being true' in a Heraclitean world? The great American
philosophical poet, Conrad Aiken, one of the themes with which he grappled for
over sixty years. After a long search, he finally decided that the answer lay
in repeatability: we are able to choose what we wish to repeat in our lives
and, thereby, preserve them. This provides constancy amid the Heraclitean flux.
Both Heidegger and Marcel grappled with the issue and came to similar
conclusions. Heidegger's solution lies in "resoluteness" (
BT, 443), in
"revering the repeatable possibilities of existence" (ibid.). What he means is
that we are able to choose for ourselves, or appropriate at least some of the
things that we wish to see repeated. Our choices, each "fateful repetition"
(
BT, 447) helps form constants in the lives we shape for ourselves. In a
similar vein, Marcel writes of "creative fidelity" (
The Philosophy of
Existentialism, 34) as "the active recognition of something permanent, not
formally, after the manner of a law, but ontologically; in this sense, it
refers invariably to a presence or to something which can be maintained within
us and before us as a presence, but which, ipso facto can just as well be
ignored, forgotten and obliterated . . ." (ibid.). The Bahá'í Writings espouse
a similar view. Instead of using "resoluteness" (Heidegger) and "creative
fidelity" (Marcel) they refer to "steadfastness" which is extolled throughout
the Writings of Bahá'u'lláh and Abdu'l-Bahá. This virtue is given such a high
place and so much attention because being steadfast, the choice of a repeatable
possibility, or "the active perpetuation of presence" (
PE, 36) is the
only way of set a foundation on morals in a flux. We cannot simply always
follow "the next new thing" (
BT, 443).
According to Marcel, when we practice "creative fidelity" (
PE, 38), that
is, we make ourselves "available" for the other or the presence of the other
which allows the other to be
with me (see Heidegger's "Mitsein",
being-with,
BT, 514) and thus allow him or her direct participation in
our lives. As Marcel explains, the subjects of 'presence' and 'availability'
are related because we cannot make ourselves available to someone or something
not genuinely present in our lives. This 'other' is not as a thing or a "case"
(
PE, 41) but rather a being that, to some extent at least, displaced our
concern with ourselves. "To be incapable of presence is to be in some manner
not only preoccupied but encumbered with one's own self" (ibid.). Being
available or "at the disposal of others" (
PE, 43) is also an
indispensable part of Bahá'í ethics. We are not only to be "anxiously concerned
for the needs of the age [we] live in" (
Gleanings, CVI, 213) but also to
be available to others in their various needs (
SWAB, 24) and act as
physicians to individuals and humankind in general.
26) The Principle of Hope
Because each of us is a "for-the-sake-of-which" (
BT, 119) we can see
that human being is future-oriented, and naturally looks forward into that
which is not yet, and, indeed, looks forward to events that have not yet
happened and may never happen. In working to actualize our potentials, we are
working towards ourselves as we do not yet exist but so far exist only in hope.
Thus, hope is also an integral part of the structure of human being or human
nature (See Marcel, "A Metaphysic of Hope" in
Homo Viator ; also Ernst
Bloch's 3 volume,
The Principle of Hope). Without actualizing our
capacity for hope, we not only remain incomplete beings because we lack the
future orientation, the "for-the-sake-of-which" (
BT, 119) that is an
inherent part of our being. Closely related to hope is 'faith', which is also
an integral and unavoidable part of our being. That is why even the most
stringent attempts to root faith out of our lives inevitably drag it in through
the back door. Indeed, it is not too much to say that no one actually lives
without faith; the differences among people arise because they choose to
actualize their capacity for faith differently. Realizing this can not only
help us understand ourselves (Where do I
really actualize my capacity
for faith?) but also the way we teach, for example, an apparent atheist.
27) Authenticity
Because we are a "Being-in-the-world" (
BT, 236), we can only exist in
full authenticity if we have an intimate and authentic relationship to the
world in which we live. As Bahá'u'lláh says, "Be anxiously concerned with the
needs of the age ye live in, and center your deliberations on its exigencies
and requirements." (
Gleanings, CVI, 213). Concern for the needs - as
distinct from the wants and preferences - of the age is the most intimate and
authentic way to engaging with our world-as-a-whole, and must not to be
confused with relating intimately and authentically to the needs of individuals
we encounter.
Both and not one or the other are necessary to a full,
engaged and authentic existence that actualizes the complete range of our
social potentialities. Heidegger recognizes the possibilities for authentic
engagement with the world under the rubric of 'care' which he characterizes not
only as authentic being-toward-one's-own-possibilities but also as
"Being-in-the-world" (
BT, 236) and "being-with" (
BT, 163). He
says that "Being-in-the-world is essentially care" (
BT, 237) and
describes "care as the Being of Dasein" (
BT, 241). Thus care in its
social dimension, that is, our "concern and solicitude" (
BT, 238) for
our co-inhabitants on the earth is an integral part of our being and cannot be
avoided if we wish to develop authentically. However, unlike Bahá'u'lláh,
Heidegger does not specifically explain what characterizes authentic
"Being-in-the-world".
28) The Primacy of Bahá'u'lláh in Our Age
At this point we begin to see the shape of an 'existential proof' for the
primacy of Bahá'u'lláh for our age. The greatest single need of our age of
potential global mass destruction is peace; and the way to peace is through
unity and the way to unity can only lie through inclusivity. The most
comprehensive teachings on inclusivity on the planet today are those of
Bahá'u'lláh and for that and that reason alone, His path represents the most
authentic mode-of-being available in the world today. Indeed, from this point
of view, it is even conceivable that atheists, motivated by good will towards
humanity and recognizing the need for unity and inclusion, can join the Bahá'í
Faith while mentally setting aside, or 'bracketing' (Husserl) the religious
aspects as temporary accommodations they are prepared to accept in order to
facilitate those not yet ready to abandon religious beliefs. For such persons
to become Bahá'ís is an existential gamble - not entirely unlike Pascal's
famous wager on the existence of God - necessitated by their recognition of the
deepest need of the age. If they are wrong, no harm, and probably much great
good is done; if they are right, they have not only helped this age but also
helped themselves to a more authentic and self-actualizing existence in the
Abha Kingdom.
29) The Volitional Personality
Although we have advanced some way in our analysis of a Bahá'í existentialism,
the fact is we can go much deeper. To illustrate this possibility, let us
examine the issue of free will more closely. According to the Bahá'í Writings,
humankind is endowed with free will (
SAQ, 248) which, in practical terms
means, we define, that is, create ourselves by the choices we make. This has
immediate consequences for a Bahá'í existentialism because it means we must
carefully qualify Sartre's dictum that existence precedes essence. From the
perspective of the Writings this is true only so far as our volitional, that
is, chosen personality is concerned, since our choices did not exist before we
made them. Nonetheless, those choices are made in the context of having a
specifically human nature that is capable of making such choices in the first
place. Thus, generically speaking, we do have a human nature that is given to
us but we do not have a personal identity made by our choices. The personality
based on our choices - and, according to the Writings, the personality we shall
judge in the Abha Kingdom - does not exist until we have chosen which of our
generically human potentials to actualize.
It must be emphasized that this secondary volitional essence or personality is
formed entirely of our free choices, and is not given to us at the outset
either by God or other human beings. And indeed, from this point of view we
are, in Sartre's memorable phrase "condemned to be free" (
The
Existentialists, 80) because, paradoxically, we have no choice but to make
the choices that form ourselves. Even refusing to choose is a choice in this
situation. As we make these choices, we gradually come into existence by
forming ourselves, building up a pattern, a self or personality, or a
volitional essence, which does not exist until it is actually built. Thus, from
the point of view of the volitional self, we are self-created and truly sui
generis, our own makers and, therewith, the architects of our own destiny. Even
more radically, each one of us is our own god, in the sense that not even God
can make our self-forming choices for us since to do so would be to deny our
unique human freedom and with it, our responsibility. The denial of
responsibility would, of course, destroy the foundation of the Bahá'í ethical
system which makes people responsible for their own actions. In regard to
humankind's self-creating choices; God voluntarily limits His actions and
allows a clearing in which human freedom can work. All this follows from the
fact that our sheer existence - our ability to make choices - precedes our
volitional essence. This far, at least, a Bahá'í existentialism can agree with
Sartre.
30) The Mystery of Self
Furthermore, this volitional self or essence is inherently mysterious insofar
as it does not exist before any choices are made, yet something is required to
make the first choice. What is that something? We could speculate in any number
of ways but the final result will always be that we cannot know, at least not
intellectually in the manner of logical necessity or physical causality. This
is because, in Marcel's terms, the self is a "mystery" (
PE, 21-23) and a
"problem" (ibid.). The difference between the two is clear cut: a problem is a
difficulty that can be solved with the proper procedure or technique whereas a
mystery cannot be solved at all. A "mystery [is} a problem which encroaches on
its own data" (
PE, 22), that is, a problem that does not allow us to
study it objectively but irrevocably requires us to be involved: "I cannot
place myself outside it or before it; I am engaged . . . " (ibid.). Our
personal identity, the self is destined to remain a mystery in Marcel's sense
because we cannot reflect on ourselves without involving ourselves. We become
both subject and object simultaneously (see also
MB, Vol. I, 106) and
thus lose the prerequisites for an 'objective' view. Marcel also emphasizes
this point when he writes that "my life is essentially ungraspable . . . it
eludes me . . . " (
MB, Vol. 1, 210; see also 168, 169).
Nothing in the Bahá'í Writings takes exception to Marcel's view. However,
according to them we are mysteries to ourselves and others because we are
"called into being" (
Gleanings, XIV, 29) by the inscrutable will of God
(see
Gleanings, CXXIV, 262) who, through Bahá'u'lláh has told us that
"Man is My mystery, and I am his mystery " (
Kitab-i-Iqan, 101; see also
Gleanings, LXXXII, 160). In other words, we do not know why God has
called us or others into being because "He shall not be asked of His doings.
He, verily, is the All-Glorious, the Almighty" (
Gleanings, CXIV, 239).
At this point we have arrived at an inherent limit to rational inquiry; we
cannot inquire about the reason's for God's will because all rational inquiry
is based on either the law of non-contradiction or cause and effect and God
transcends both of these laws. We can only say that God must have had
His reasons which we are incapable of comprehending and then proceed to
accept God's will: "Praise be to God, the loving believers also accept and
remain submissive to God's Will, content with it, radiantly acquiescent,
offering thanks" (
SWAB, 18-19).
Of course, it is at precisely this point that atheist and non-theist and theist
existentialists distinguish themselves from one another. Atheists such as
Sartre and Camus are inclined to see our mysteriousness to others and ourselves
as further proof that human existence is fundamentally 'absurd' and inherently
senseless. On the other hand, a non-theist such as the Heidegger of
Being
and Time sees it as evidence that we find ourselves simply "thrown" into
the world and must learn to accept our 'thrown-ness'. In
Being and Time
at least, he remains mute about the issue of a superior being. Some theist
existentialists such as Marcel understand this mystery as a sign of there being
aspects of human existence not susceptible to purely rational treatment; we do
not need to deny reason, but we must learn where its natural limitations are.
This is fundamentally the same position as the one adopted by the Bahá'í
Writings, which espouse a form of moderate rationalism (See "The Aristotelian
Substratum of the Bahá'í Writings").
The mystery of the self is reinforced by the Bahá'í Teaching that the inner
essence of things is unknown and unknowable (
SAQ, 220); things are known
by their attributes but their essences are beyond the reach of human knowledge.
This is especially true of the human soul: "Verily I say, the human soul is, in
its essence, one of the signs of God, a mystery among His mysteries. It is one
of the mighty signs of the Almighty, the harbinger that proclaimeth the reality
of all the worlds of God.
Within it lieth concealed that which the world is
now utterly incapable of apprehending" (
Gleanings, LXXXII, 160;
italics added; see also
Gleanings, LXXXIII, 165; XCV, 195 ). For this
reason, 'mysteriousness to ourselves' is inherently structured into human
existence and the only choice we really have is in deciding how to respond to
it. This mystery is also a part of our essential nature because we are
inherently 'works in progress', incomplete beings with an eternity of
development ahead of them. It is, of course, up to us to choose whether we
shall understand and experience this mystery as one of the signs of God's
existence or as a sense of alienation and not belonging to oneself.
31) Self-Alienation
This sense of not belonging to oneself suggests that a certain sense of
alienation is structurally inherent in human being. As Marcel writes, " from
the moment when I start to reflect, I am bound to appear to myself as a, as it
were, non-somebody . . . (
MB, Vol. 1, 106). However, it can often
intensify into a pathological state of alienation insofar as one is alienated
from acting in one's own best interests. This idea underlies such injunctions
as the following: "Suffer not yourselves to be wrapt in the dense veils of your
selfish desires, inasmuch as I have perfected in every one of you My creation
(
Gleanings, LXXV, 143), "Every good thing is of God, and every evil
thing is from yourselves" (
Gleanings, LXXVII, 149) and "deprive not
yourselves of the liberal effusions of His grace" (
Gleanings, CI, 206).
Each of these quotations suggests that human beings can be so alienated from
themselves that they act to inflict harm on themselves. From this point of
view, the "call into being" (
SWAB, 250) takes on a new dimension: in
addition to being the call by which the original volitional self begins, it is
also the call back into authenticity, the call to return to our true selves.
Indeed, insofar as we do not really exist when we do not live authentically - a
kind of 'substitute' lives in our place - the "call into being" (ibid.) is also
a call to return to existence. If responded to, this call can be considered a
kind of "second birth" (
PUP, 332) in which we attain our true spiritual
selves or what Abdu'l-Bahá calls "the world of the Kingdom" (ibid.). According
to Heidegger, this "call says nothing which might be talked about, gives no
information about events. The call, which can be identified with the call of
conscience (
BT, 335) points
forward to Dasein's
potentiality-for-Being and it does this as a call which comes
from
"uncanniness" (
BT, 325). Thus, it is possible to experience one's
alienation itself positively as a call to return to one's true self. Ignoring
this call is a failure to hear oneself or, even worse, an outright refusal to
do so and a rejection of oneself (
BT, 223; 315).. This, of course, leads
to inauthentic existence because one is leading a life that reflects the 'they'
or the mass instead of one that reflects one's "ownmost" (
BT, 224; 307)
potentials.
Furthermore, from this point of view, it is evident that our lives are a
'departure and return' from and back to our true, spiritual selves because it
is virtually inevitable that we fall away from ourselves at some time or
another. Interestingly enough, it also becomes clear that we have an
existential explanation or interpretation for the concept of re-incarnation:
each fall from our true selves is, in effect, a death, and each return is a
're-birth'. Our ultimate goal, of course, is to achieve 'moksha', a freedom
from this cycle of birth and death by not falling from our true selves at all.
Our 're-birth' is simply a return into another round of inauthentic existence
as an expression or extension of the crowd rather than as our true selves. As
we struggle to free ourselves from our condition of being inauthentic and
fallen into the world, we detach ourselves ('die') from the world until we are
're-born' to deal with the next set of challenges. Occasionally, a special
individual such as Abdu'l-Bahá is able to live permanently in this detached
condition and thus avoids being 're-born'. When, like Abdu'l-Bahá, they
nonetheless choose to return to the world to help others to enlightenment, we
call them 'bodhisattvas'.
32) The Mystery of Essence
Because things are known by their attributes and unknowable in their essence
(
SAQ, 220), it follows that to some extent we will always find ourselves
situated in a world of things that are essentially mysterious to us. We cannot
know them completely. Indeed, vis a vis essence, we are destined to remain
mysterious even to ourselves despite the fact that we have direct interior
experience of ourselves (
SAQ, 220). Consequently, we are always
remote-from-ourselves (Heidegger, quoted in
BN, 25); we live in
perpetual anticipation for an ever fuller disclosure of ourselves. Given that
we know only attributes and not essences, it is not surprising to find that we
may feel a certain alienation from all things and thus not feel fully 'at home'
in the world. We can choose to lament or resent this situation, or we can ask
ourselves if, in fact, we were ever intended to feel fully at home in the
world, and to live without a certain yearning for something more. In other
words, is a certain feeling of not-belonging an inherent, structural component
of human existence? The answer from the Bahá'í Writings and Heidegger seems to
be positive. The Bahá'í Writings certainly suggest that such is the case. Their
exhortations to become detached from the world (
Gleanings, CXL, 306;
XVII, 40; XXIX, 71; XLVI, 100; LXXVI, 149;
Paris Talks, 74;
SWAB,
86, 177, 186). Since Heidegger believes that a kind of inauthenticity results
from being too attached to daily existence and becoming "absorbed" (
BT,
163) in our "Being as everyday Being-with-one-another" (ibid.), we may conclude
that he, too, advocates a certain degree of feeling
unheimlich,
not-at-home in the world as a requisite for authenticity. This feeling
keeps a necessary distance between ourselves and the world. However, we must
bear in mind that detachment does not mean a disinterest or lack of concern for
the world; Bahá'u'lláh, after all, tells us to be "anxiously concerned for the
needs of the age [we] live in" (
Gleanings, CVI, 213) and Heidegger sees
solicitude (
BT, 237), an important aspect of the care in which Dasein
reveals itself (
BT, 227), as an integral part of our Being-in-the-world.
Rather, it means that we must not see the world as the ultimate and final value
in our lives; we must recognize that our relationship to "the things of this
world" (
Paris Talks, 18), meaning both concrete things and
worldly affairs, must not be allowed to stand in the way of achieving personal
authenticity or an authentic relationship to God. To paraphrase Christ, what
does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his soul (
The New
Testament, Mark, 8: 36-38).
33) Being-Between
Further reflection reveals that human existence is characterized by
being-between. We are in the paradoxical position of waiting at the door of
ourselves caught between eternal anxiety and hope as we ponder both hopefully
and anxiously what we shall disclose about our essence. As individuals and as a
species, we are in eternal evolutionary development and, therefore, always
'between' a point of departure and a port of arrival. Indeed, every arrival is
simultaneously a leave-taking; human beings have always just left and never
quite arrived. This being-between is reflected even in our situation in
creation; according to the Bahá'í Writings, humankind is the mid-point between
matter and spirit: "For the inner reality of man is a demarcation line between
the shadow and the light, a place where the two seas meet; it is the lowest
point on the arc of descent, and therefore is it capable of gaining all the
grades above" (
SWAB, 130).We exist between animality and the divine
(
PUP, 67) and while our nature or essence can be refined, it can never
change (
SWAB, 132;
SAQ, 177).
The tension that inevitably arises because of our being-between is one of the
structural hallmarks of specifically human existence; other forms of being such
as the mineral, vegetable and animal do not experience it. Consequently, there
is no way for us to escape this tension without betraying our nature as human
beings and living inauthentically, that is, not living our human lives but
living an animal existence. The result will be that we will become lower than
the animal (
PUP, 309). However, to compensate for the additional
challenges we face, God sends Manifestations Who offer guidance and choices in
the conduct of our lives: "As to the human world: It is more in need of
guidance and education than the lower creatures" (
PUP, 77). In other
words, if we choose, we can make our being-between into a privileged position,
because, with correct guidance, we can enjoy the benefits and pleasures of
material existence and, at the same time, carry on our spiritual development.
By making the material serve the spiritual we, so to speak, have the best of
both worlds.
Once we have recognized and accepted this feeling of not completely belonging
in the world, we are in a position to choose how to interpret it and its role
in our lives. We can, for example, choose to understand the distance implied by
this feeling according to Sartre and see it as a vast nothingness between the
volitional self we are, our essence and the world (
BN, 29). Such a view
understands this feeling as a negation that negates the value and certainty of
the volitional self and all things in the world because every positive
achievement is negated by the haunting presence of its unknowable essence.
Nothing is ever good enough. However, we can choose to understand it as a sign
as the sign of our freedom from the world, as the distance necessary to provide
us with the freedom to act and choose.
34) The Necessity of Faith
The fact that the world is inherently mysterious to us because we know things
only by their attributes and not directly by their inner essence (
SAQ,
220) means that there are some kinds of things we are not able to know. Our
knowledge, our science and our action are limited to the phenomenal level of
reality and debarred from the noumenal realm which is the exclusive domain of
God. This shows that the Bahá'í Writings espouse a moderate rationalism, that
is, they recognize that while reasoned investigation and logic can tell us many
things, they cannot tell us everything and certainly not everything we need to
know to live appropriately as human beings. The key for a accurate epistemology
is to know where to draw the line between the two because this distinction is
the basis for asserting the existence of other, supra-rational ways of knowing.
As the Writings tell us, we know by "faith and knowledge" (
BWF, 382)
which are the " 'two wings' of the soul" (ibid.).
In Marcel's language, the difference between faith and knowledge is the
difference between "believing that" (
MB, Vol. 2, 86) and "believing in"
(ibid.). The first is like a "conviction" (ibid.) of which we have complete
intellectual certainty and which - here we are going beyond Marcel - is hedged
round with all kinds of careful provisos and qualifications to preserve it from
attack. "Believing in" (ibid.) however is something quite different. According
to Marcel, it means "that I place myself at the disposal of something"
(
MB, Vol. 2, 87), that is, I make myself available to something or
someone. In short, faith is the kind of knowledge we get when we willingly open
ourselves to the other and give our assent (Marcel calls it a "pledge") to the
knowledge gained in that way. Indeed, such knowledge "absorbs most fully all
the powers of [our] being" (ibid.). It also affects our own being, that is,
what we actually are as persons. We are, as the saying goes, 'touched'.
Now it is obvious that faith has both down-to-earth practical as well as
religious applications. Marcel uses the homely example of granting someone
credit; we believe
in that person - perhaps even in contradiction to a
past financial mistake. Faith in God, of course, exacts a higher standard, but
the principle is the same: we make ourselves available to whatever evidence or
knowledge God chooses to bestow. To acquire faith we must prepare ourselves
spiritually. As Abdu'l-Bahá says, "If thou wishest the divine knowledge and
recognition, purify thy heart from all beside God, be wholly attracted to the
ideal, beloved One search for and choose Him . . ." (
BWF, 383) and
Bahá'u'lláh's "first counsel" (
The Hidden Words, from the Arabic, 3) is
to "possess a pure, kindly and radiant heart" (ibid.). However, in the
Writings, faith and knowledge are not opposed; after telling us to "search for
and choose Him" (
BWF, 383), Abdu'l-Bahá says, apply thyself to rational
and authoritative arguments. For arguments are a guide to the path and by this
the heart will be turned unto the Sun of Truth" (ibid.). This next step leads
to a higher level of faith:
And when the heart is turned
unto the Sun, then the eye will be opened and will recognize the Sun through
the Sun itself. Then man will be in no need of arguments (or proofs), for the
Sun is altogether independent, and absolute independence is in need of nothing,
and proofs are one of the things of which absolute independence has no need.
^t^t^t(BWF, 383)
The opening eye is an apt symbol of making oneself available to what the sun,
or, God has to bestow. A similar idea animates the following statement by
Abdu'l-Bahá: "Once a soul becometh holy in all things, purified, sanctified,
the gates of the knowledge of God will open wide before his eyes" (
SWAB,
191).
It is, of course, clear that making oneself available is something we must
choose to do. It is an existential act and those who refuse it, cut themselves
off from whatever knowledge and understanding is attainable in that way.
Moreover, we should not think that only religious knowledge is dependent on
faith, that is, an existential commitment to be open to what the data reveals.
Even physics, the hardest of the 'hard sciences' requires such an open-ness and
commitment. Indeed, at least some of the arguments among physicists themselves
centre on what researchers are willing to accept even from the data themselves.
At bottom, these arguments are about what procedures, devices, interpretations
and theories can be trusted to reveal the true state of affairs. The various
competing interpretations and theories of quantum mechanics are a case in
point: because all of them explain the discovered phenomena, it is simply
impossible to decide which of them represents the true state of affairs in the
cosmos.
35) Kinds of Truth
If knowledge can be acquired by rational inquiry as well as by faith,
it follows that the concept of truth in the Bahá'í Writings has at least two
levels. The first, as we have already seen in our exploration of the
Aristotelian substratum of the Writings, is the rational and empirical level.
Here the Writings espouse a form of the correspondence theory of truth. (See
"The Aristotelian Substratum of the Bahá'í Writings"). The second, existential
level concerns the issue of living 'in truth' insofar as we are what we appear
to be and appear to be what we are both to others and ourselves. Sartre calls
this living in good or "bad faith" (
BN, 57), that is, in not lying, not
to others or to oneself. Thus, to the extent that we lie neither to others nor
ourselves, we live 'in truth'. We exhibit what Heidegger calls "authentic
disclosedness" (
BT, 264) to others and ourselves. In terms of the
correspondence theory of truth, we are consciously and fully self-congruent.
However, the Writings suggest that there is yet a second level of existential
truth illustrated for example in Bahá'u'lláh's statement that ""He, Who is the
Eternal Truth, beareth Me witness!" (
Gleanings, V, 9; also XXV, 60;
XXXV, 82; LXIV, 122). Naturally, the question arises how God can
be the
truth. There are at least three possible answers. In the first place, we might
say that God and the Manifestation are the truth because they are ultimately
the standard by which all humanly discovered truths are to be assessed. Their
very existence and their attributes are the standards by which truth is to be
determined. Another, metaphysical answer follows logically from the unity of
God, that is, the belief that God is absolutely one and "admits of no division"
(
SAQ, 113). As Abdu'l-Bahá writes, "the essential names and attributes
of God are identical with His Essence . ." (
SAQ, 148). Similarly,
Bahá'u'lláh says that "He, verily, is one and indivisible; one in His essence,
one in His attributes" (
Gleanings, XCIII, 187; see also XCIV, 193).
Since truth is one of God's attributes (
Paris Talks, 60), we cannot
escape the conclusion that God is truth. It is virtually self-evident that God
could not possess absolute unity if essence and attribute were distinct and
divided. Such a division would reduce God to the level of His creations in
which the essence made up of potentials and the attributes made up of
actualized attributes are different. For reasons of logic alone, God must
be truth.
A third way in which God is the truth may be developed on the basis of
Heidegger's philosophy. According to Heidegger, "[a]ssertion is not the primary
'locus' of truth" (
BT, 269). In other words, truth is not simply a
matter of statements that correspond to reality; such statements possess a
strictly secondary or "derivative character" (
BT, 266). Rather, "in the
most primordial sense" (ibid.), truth is the "disclosedness" (ibid.) that
allows us to proceed to make judgments about correctness or falsity: "The most
primordial 'truth' . . . is the ontological condition for the possibility that
assertions can either be true or false - that they may uncover or cover things
up" (ibid.). Thus, "primordial truth" is the pre-condition for all subsequent
judgments. As the Prime Mover, the ground of being, the "object of desire" of
the entire universe, God is that ontological pre-condition necessary for things
to be true or false and indeed, in that sense, S/he is the Truth of truth.
Without this pre-condition of truth, there could be no perception or
understanding of the secondary truths. As such a pre-condition for all
judgments about truth, God may be compared to light which is not seen in itself
but is the necessary pre-condition for seeing. Another way of saying all this
is to point out that God is the "disclosedness" (
BT, 269) of things,
that is, the condition of "uncoveredness" (
BT, 267) or being uncovered
by which the secondary or derivative truths can be known.
If God is truth in the Heideggerian sense, then it follows that God is always
available in our quest for knowledge. He is, as Bahá'u'lláh writes, "closer to
man than his life vein (
Gleanings, XCIII, 185). God is, quite literally,
the universal pre-condition for all knowledge and discrimination and, in that
sense, revelation is occurring at all times and places. As Bahá'u'lláh writes,
"Likewise hath the eternal King spoken: "No thing have I perceived, except that
I perceived God within it, God before it, or God after it" (
Gleanings,
XC, 178). God is simply unavoidable for those who have "eyes to see"
(
Deuteronomy, 29:4).
36) Conclusion
By exploring the concept of potentials, we have seen how a recognizably
existential philosophy is embedded in the Bahá'í Writings, and how this
existentialism bears close affinities to the work of Martin Heidegger in
Being and Time and to the work of Gabriel Marcel. Although there are
some similarities with Sartre's
Being and Nothingness, these
similarities are relatively few and must remain superficial due to Sartre's
insistent atheism and the fact that his central philosophy of negation and
consciousness simply has no counterparts in the Bahá'í Writings. In other
words, a Bahá'í existentialism may have 'Sartrean elements' but these will
never be more than occasional overlaps. Sartre's late efforts to combine
existentialism with Marxist materialism puts an even greater rift between his
philosophy and the Bahá'í Writings. Furthermore, while a Bahá'í existentialism
may have several areas of agreement with Kierkegaard, the fact remains that the
Danish philosopher's tone, his anti-rationalism as well as vehement opposition
to grand narratives keeps the two philosophies widely apart. This is especially
obvious once we realize just how closely tied a Bahá'í existentialism is to the
philosophy of Aristotle. Given this Aristotelian aspect of the Bahá'í Writings
and the existential philosophy embedded in them, the affinities to Heidegger
and Marcel are no surprise insofar as both of these philosophers were heavily
influenced by their in-depth study of classical Greek philosophy. Like a Bahá'í
existentialism, their philosophies are not limited by Aristotle's world-view,
but rather build on it as a foundation on which to erect a wholly new kind of
building.
We shall end this introduction to a Bahá'í existentialism not with an abstract
summary but rather with an image that summarizes much of what we have
discovered: we Bahá'ís are not pilgrims headed for a final destination be it
Paradise, or Nirvana or Valhalla, but rather, we are all mariners and our lives
are a journey that never ends. Days and nights, in different weathers, on
different seas and through changing climates we sail ever onward discovering
new lands and our prows are aimed at the horizon and the Great Attractor whose
brightness draws us forever onward. Each moment is an arrival and departure; a
"Land-ho!" and "Anchors aweigh!"; a parting sigh and a welcoming smile, a
discovery and a recognition, a being-toward-death and a being-toward-birth, a
self-transcendence and a self-disappointment, a "Ready-aye-ready" and a
"Not-yet", a moment of knowledge and a moment of mystery, a falling into the
troughs and a rising onto the crests. Like all mariners, we are 'in-between'.
We live between waves and winds, between sea and sky, between being ourselves
and never being ourselves, between anticipation and anxiety, between here and
not-here, between peace with ourselves and internal conflict, between being
true and being untruth. Yet, through this all, we try as best we can to see the
light of the Great Attractor and to guide our ships by that light.
Abbreviations
BN |
Being
and Nothingness |
BT |
Being
and Time |
BWF |
Bahá'í
World Faith |
FWU
|
Foundations
of World Unity |
MB |
The
Mystery of Being |
PE
|
The
Philosophy of Existentialism |
PB |
Proclamation
of Bahá'u'lláh |
PUP
|
Promulgation
of Universal Peace |
SAQ |
Some
Answered Questions |
SDC
|
Secret
of Divine Civilization |
SWAB
|
Selected
Writings of Abdu'l-Bahá |
TB |
Tablets
of Bahá'u'lláh |
Abdu'l-Bahá |
Abdu'l-Bahá in London. Bahá'í Publishing Trust. London, 1987. |
|
Foundations
of World Unity. n.p., Immerse. Bernal Schoole, 1997 |
|
Paris
Talks. London: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1971. |
|
Promulgation
of Universal Peace. Second Edition. Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1982 |
|
The
Secret of Divine Civilization. Trans. Marzeih Gail. Wilmette: Bahá'í
Publishing Trust, 1957. |
|
Selected
Writings of Abdu'l-Bahá. Haifa: Bahá'í World Centre, 1978 |
|
Some
Answered Questions. Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1981. |
|
Star
of the West. n.p., Talisman Educational Software. CD Rom. 2001. |
Bahá'u'lláh |
Bahá'í World Faith. Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1976. |
|
Epistle
to the Son of the Wolf. Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1979. |
|
Gleanings
from the Writings of Bahá'u'lláh. Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1976. |
|
Kitab-i-Aqdas.
n.p., Immerse. Bernal Schooley, 1997 |
|
Kitab-i-Iqan.
Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1950. |
|
Proclamation
of Bahá'u'lláh. n.p., Immerse. Bernal Schooley, 1997 |
|
Tablets
of Bahá'u'lláh. Haifa: Bahá'í World Centre, 1978 |
|
The
Seven Valleys and the Four Valleys. Wilmette: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1975 |
Berdyaev,
Nicolas |
Truth
and Revelation. Trans. by R.M. French. New York: Collier Books, 1962 |
|
The
Destiny of Man. Trans. by N. Duddington. New York: Harper & Row, 1960 |
Blackham,
H.J. |
Six
Existentialist Thinkers. New York: Harper and Row, 1959. |
Collins,
James |
The
Existentialists. Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1968. |
Copelston,
Frederick |
A
History of Philosophy, Vol. 9, Part II. New York: Image Books, 1977 |
|
Contemporary
Philosophy. London: Burns and Oates, 1956 |
Heidegger,
Martin |
Being
and Time. Trans. by J. Macquarrie and E. Robinson. New York: Harper &
Row, 1962 |
Inwood,
Michael |
A
Heidegger Dictionary. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1999 |
Kierkegaard,
Soren |
Concluding
Unscientific Postscript. Trans. by D. Swenson and W. Lowrie. Princeton,
Princeton University Press, 1968. |
Kluge,
Ian |
"The
Aristotelian Substratum of the Bahá'í Writings". Unpublished paper, 2002.
Forthcoming publication by Irfan. |
|
"Reason
and the Bahá'í Writings", Unpublished paper delivered to Seattle ABS
conference, August, 2001 |
MaCquarrie,
John |
Existentialism.
Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1973 |
|
An
Existentialist Theology. Harmonsworth: Penguin Books, 1973 |
Marcel,
Gabriel |
The
Mystery of Being, 2 Volumes. Trans by G.S. Fraser and R. Hague. Chicago:
Henry Regnery Company, 1969 |
|
Homo
Viator. Trans. by E. Craufurd. New York: Harper & Row, 1962 |
|
The
Philosophy of Existentialism.Trans. by M. Harari. New York: Citadel
Press, 1956. |
|
Creative
Fidelity. Trans. by R Rosthal. Toronto: Farrar, Strauss and Company, 1964 |
Nietzsche,
Frederich |
Thus
Spake Zarathustra. Trans. by R.L. Hollingdale. Harmondsworth: Penguin
Books, 1968 |
Sartre,
Jean-Paul |
Being
and Nothingness. Trans. by H. Barnes. New York: Washington Square Press,
1966 |
Schooley,
Bernal |
Immerse.
n.p., 1997 |
Tillich,
Paul |
The
Courage To Be. London: Collins, 1970. |