Religion and the Church

Of considerable interest is the struggle within the Church of Rome during the nineteenth century regarding the notion of the Infallibility of the Pope in matters of faith. The issue was of major importance in the First Vatican Council in 1868 when Pope Pius IX introduced the notion for adoption and it was met with considerable opposition by a number of influential Bishops — led, interestingly enough, by Lord Acton who was not a Bishop and had no vote but who was very active behind the scenes seeking to strengthen the opposition. He was convinced that the doctrine was in direct opposition to the New Testament which is the fundamental text of the Christian religion. Acton eventually failed in what became a heated political battle. Several Bishops who opposed the doctrine were excommunicated by the Pope and the only reason Acton, a devout Catholic, was not, presumably, was because he was a powerful man with powerful friends back in England.

In any event, Dostoevsky, himself a deeply religious man, was vehemently opposed to the doctrine of Infallibility as well — as he was opposed to the Church of Rome in general which he was convinced was established as a Church on Earth that stood in direct opposition to the fundamental Christian doctrine as set forth in the Gospels. Of special interest to Dostoevsky — who mentions this in both The Brothers Karamazov and Demons, two of his five major novels — was the passage in St. Matthew 4: 8-11 recounting the three temptations of Christ (repeated almost Verbatim in Luke 4 1-13), but especially the third temptation:

8 Again, the devil took Him to a very high mountain and showed Him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory; 9 and he said to Him, “All these things I will give You, if You fall down and worship me.” 10 Then Jesus said to him, “Go, Satan! For it is written, ‘YOU SHALL WORSHIP THELORD YOUR GOD, AND SERVE HIM ONLY.’” 11 Then the devil left Him; and behold, angels came and began to minister to Him.

As Dostoevsky read the three temptations of Christ, which he regarded as divinely inspired (they couldn’t possibly have been invented by humans; they are far too wise) this was a direct admonition from Christ to reject things of this earth and live a life of sacrifice and love. But the Roman Church, according to Dostoevsky, sought earthly power in direct opposition to the words of Christ. In fact, he puts his own convictions in the mouth of his character Shatov in Demons:

“. . .Rome proclaimed a Christ who had succumbed to the third temptation of the devil and, having announced to the whole world that Christ cannot stand on earth without an earthly kingdom, Catholicism thereby proclaimed the Antichrist, thus ruining the whole Western world. “

Lest the reader think that a great author such as Dostoevsky would never put his own words in the mouth of one of his characters, we have the words of the man himself in the pages of his 1877 Diary:

“Roman Catholicism, which has long ago sold Christ for earthly rule; which has compelled mankind to turn away from itself, and which was thus the prime cause of Europe’s materialism and atheism, — that Catholicism has naturally generated socialism.”

Years before the Vatican Council  the Catholic poet Dante had been critical of what he called “The Donation of Constantine” in which the recognition of the Christian Church by the Roman Emperor Constantine lead directly to the earthly power of the Church (and divisiveness within the Church, according to Edward  Gibbon) and the corruption which he pillories in his Inferno — filled as it is with Bishops and Popes, who have succumbed to temptation.

In any event, the issue for both of these thinkers was the embracing on the part of the Church of earthly power. For Dostoevsky this was in direct conflict with the teachings of Christ and an acceptance of the lures of the devil himself. For Dante it was the beginning of a long and terrible period of struggle within the church between the promises of Heaven and the lures of earthly treasure.

What is of interest here is the radical difference, in the minds of these three deeply religious thinkers, Acton, Dante, and Dostoevsky, between the teachings of the New Testament and the doctrines of the Roman Church. We know, as a matter of fact, that when William Tyndale first translated the Bible into English 1526, thereby making the sacred text available to all who could read, the Church sought to confiscate and burn copies of the book.  They saw it as a direct threat to their power and authority in matters of religion, which was already being questioned by Luther who had posted his 95 theses in 1517.

The point is that this struggle allows us to see clearly the rift between religion, properly understood, and religion as embodied in earthly institutions that led to such things as purges, excommunications, and Inquisitions — not to mention the forced denial by Galileo of his mathematical discoveries. And we should also bear in mind the many atrocities committed by Protestant Churches in their attempt to establish themselves as power-brokers in the game of earthly power.

Many who have turned against what they regard as “religion” really have a quarrel with the institutions that have been founded and supported by human beings in the name of what they take to be the true meaning of religion. The two are not the same as these men saw so clearly. They wrote and spoke against this false identification because they saw that what human beings do for the best of reasons, at times, turns out to be antithetical to the very principles and fundamental beliefs of the causes they espouse. We could do worse than to take a page from their book — or their books — and keep this difference in mind.

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Earth Mother

Carl Gustav Jung (Courtesy of Wikipedia)

Carl Gustav Jung
(Courtesy of Wikipedia)

The central pillar of Jungian psychology is his notion of archetypes, which he discovered by analyzing his patients’ dreams and a careful study of myths, archaic symbols, and even fairy tales.  Jung defines archetypes as follows:

“. . .there are present in every psyche forms which are unconscious but nonetheless active — living dispositions, ideas in the Platonic sense, that perform and continually influence our thoughts and feelings and actions.”

These archetypes are part and parcel of the psychic baggage we all bring with us into the world. Just as from conception to birth our embryos pass through a series of developments that echo human evolution, so also do our psyches, or what the Greeks called our “souls.” In a word, Jung was convinced that our inner selves, despite our outwardly sophisticated, civilized twenty-first century appearance, are fundamentally primitive, psychically undeveloped. This is Jung’s notion of the collective unconsciousness: we all share the same primitive self deep within our individualized, modern selves. And that unconsciousness is filled with a variety of archetypes, which we share in common. They appear in our dreams and stories and are what enable us to communicate with one another and to understand the deeper meanings of the symbols that have been used by various cultures throughout the ages. It’s an intriguing notion. It is especially intriguing when we reflect on that most powerful of archetypes, the Earth Mother, the eternally feminine.

Notions such “the eternally feminine” are today regarded as politically incorrect, but I venture to suggest that political correctness may have rendered taboo one of the most important concepts we have that might enable us to understand the modern temper. By denying that there is such a thing as the distinctively feminine, by insisting that differences between males and females are merely cultural, we deny the fundamental truth (as Jung sees it) of the duality in all human psyches, a duality that requires balance in order to achieve mental health. Not only do we bring with us into the world a vast storehouse of archetypes that enable us to come to grips with the terrors and delights of living and growing, we are, all of us, both male and female — Yin and Yang, as Eastern religions would have it. The denial of this duality, this fundamental difference, destroys our ability to come to grips with our fundamental humanity, Jung would insist.

Worse yet, the denial of the feminine as a distinctive and vital element within each soul has coincided historically in the West with the denial of our connection with the earth itself which many cultures teach us is, indeed, our mother. And if Henry Adams is to be believed, the Western rejection of the feminine, more specifically the Protestant rejection of the honored place of the Virgin Mary in the Christian panoply of divinities, has brought about the slow death of Christianity itself, until there is nothing left but a hollow shell. In rejecting the Virgin Mary, Adams insists, the Church broke the vital, personal connection ordinary men and women felt with their Church and their God: it rendered the Church more distant, denying, among other things, the connection we all have with the feminine, intuitive, affective side of ourselves.  As Jung would have it, the Earth Mother represents her “cherishing and nourishing goodness, her orgiastic emotionality, and her Stygian depths.” By denying the distinctive nature of the feminine, and our deep need for that psychic balance, we deny the possibility of mental health.

The reason Adams in convinced that the Virgin Mary was central to Christianity, especially during the medieval period, is because she represented love and pity — or Jung’s “cherishing and nourishing goodness,” —  which is the central concept in the New Testament itself. She was available to all, regardless of social position, and she forgave all when, as we are all prone to do, they sinned. She was the one divinity that ordinary people could feel close to, as Adams noted.

“Whatever the heretic or mystic might try to convince himself, God could not be love. God was Justice, Order, Unity, Perfection; he could not be human and imperfect, nor could the Son or the Holy Ghost be other than the Father. The Mother alone was human, imperfect, and could love; She alone was Favor, Dualism, Diversity. Under any conceivable form of religion, this duality must find embodiment somewhere, and the middle ages logically insisted that, as it could not be in the Trinity either separately or together, it must be in the Mother.”

Now Adams couldn’t have read Carl Gustav Jung, since Jung came later. But the sense they both shared of the essential relationship between the Virgin Mother and the health of the human soul is most striking. Indeed, they would almost certainly agree that the most serious mistake (if we can call it that) of the modern age is the reduction of the feminine to the masculine, the denial of mystery, the insistence upon knowing everything in terms of logic and categories, measuring and quantifying, rational certainty replacing the intuitive, imaginative, grasp of the female within each of us that our masculine society insists upon denying. Just as society demands political correctness by denying the fundamental differences between the male and the female, by exploiting the earth relentlessly in the blind pursuit of profit our culture exhibits its lack of feeling connected to our Mother; with our attention turned exclusively toward banking and business and ignoring poetry and the beauty that surrounds us, we plod ahead in our linear fashion, building more powerful weapons and machines, determined to conquer the earth and arrogantly pronouncing ourselves masters over that which cannot be known or commanded, denying mystery and our own ignorance. Instead of seeking harmony with that which is a fundamental part of ourselves, we grope in the dark and experience anxiety and fear.