innernet

NOVEMBER 1999 EDITION


by Jeremy Kagan

Excerpted with permission of Feldheim Publishers from
"THE JEWISH SELF -
RECOVERING SPIRITUALITY IN THE MODERN WORLD"

Feldheim in Israel: POB 35002, Jersualem.
In the USA: 200 Airport Executive Park, Spring Valley NY 10977.
http://www.feldheim.com



Our situation can be compared to that of an art historian who has heard lavish praise about Impressionist art. Somewhat skeptical, he decides to go to the museum to see for himself what all the fuss is about. He goes down to the station and boards his train, then realizes that he has forgotten his glasses. Returning for them would cost him valuable time, so he decides to go as he is, certain that his superior training will allow him to compensate for his weak vision and that he will be able to discern whatever virtues the new art has.

Upon arrival at the museum he is greeted by an expectedly blurry display - he is, after all, without his glasses. But he is suitably impressed by the joyous and innocent wash of bright colors. Having detected some unique virtue in the paintings, he is confident that he understands what all of his colleagues have been talking about. He returns to the university, planning to add to his course on the history of art a short section on the quaint, colorful Impressionists. He is oblivious to the masterful new brush strokes which lie at the heart of the Impressionist revolution and the radical analysis of vision implicit in the details of their work. It is these elements which give the paintings their remarkable power and set the stage for all of modern art. Yet he has missed them, because he forgot his glasses and did not have time to go back and get them.



We stand before the Torah like a critic without glasses. We see that the Torah possesses unique qualities but are unable to tap into the tremendous power which supports them. Our vision is limited, and we have not undertaken the effort to understand and correct for that limitation.

If the Torah was the only casualty of this loss of spiritual sensitivity, we could simply mourn the passing of the age of Spirit and the Torah which embodied it - one more great cultural vision consigned to the annals of history. But this would be a passing which we cannot tolerate, for we would be consigning man himself to history.

Our inner connection to an infinity which reaches beyond our individuality is not an incidental attribute or an icon of a particular culture. This connection defines our humanity; it is the only characteristic which distinguishes us from the rest of creation. Monkeys make tools and can be trained to recognize and exchange symbols. Dolphins play, and machines can be programmed to give sophisticated responses to questions. But no animal will ever contemplate the divine root of its own being and consciously develop and integrate itself with that divinity; no computer will ever pray. To lose this inner connection is to lose our humanity. It is no accident that as we forget that which makes us human, we come to view ourselves as intelligent animals or machines. We have lost any sense of our radical uniqueness because we have become blind to that which defines us - our connection to the transcendent realm of Spirit.

This transcendent connection is an objective expression of our humanity. Viewing ourselves like animals or machines is not an alternative vision of man; it is his destruction. Even though we can function like animals or machines, we cannot be them, for we are human. If we cannot be what we think we are, and we also do not strive for that which we can be, our existence is devoid of true substance, for we have no basis in reality and no place in the order of being. This seemingly obscure point of metaphysics is not academic; a lack of basis affects us on every level, penetrating to the conscious domain. Today, we experience at our center a profound void which produces a gnawing existential emptiness and sense of alienation. We are infinite beings; this fact founds our essential core. When we sever our attachment to infinity, we innately sense that we are tottering on the edge of oblivion. Modern culture, by obscuring this essential connection, undermines the possibility of a genuinely grounded sense of self.

This emptiness shapes our world. Consumer materialism which structures and powers modern society is a direct consequence of this deep sense of unreality. We feel at our center a vacuum. We desperately search for something to fill it so that we can become whole. Since everything within us is subject to our vacuum, we search outside ourselves. Our attention falls, or is directed to, some object - we become convinced that this will complete us. We acquire that something, making it a part of ourselves. But in becoming a part of us it becomes party to the vacuum which has supplanted our self; our satisfaction evaporates almost instantly and we are left even emptier than before, having merely expanded our vacuum. We then begin casting around for something else to fill our ever-widening inner hole.

Much of our lives are spent in consuming and supporting that consumption. Our appetite is unquenchable because what motivates us is not the qualities intrinsic to the objects we seek, but the fact that they are not us. We live in the shadow of an emptiness born of our isolation from the realm of Spirit.



We cannot passively accept our loss of connection to Spirit. Yet we are clueless where to turn for guidance on how to change and grow. The Torah, which views physical reality as an expression of a spiritual dimension, would seem a natural choice. But the same spiritual poverty which is at the heart of our problem, also denies us access to this supreme tool. We cannot accept the Torah's legitimacy precisely because we have become so familiar with our restricted vision of reality.

We are motivated to press against this limitation by the faint echo of a deeper self which cries out from below the surface. When we gaze inward we catch a fleeting glimpse of something not confined by the finitude of our world. We have all had times when we experienced a self far deeper than the one we are familiar with day to day. Whether through a profound closeness to another person, meditating on the beauty and power of a natural scene, or in a moment of quiet inner peace, we have achieved a passing clarity that there is much more to our selves and reality than we are normally aware - that a more unified and expansive realm of being lies just beyond our conscious reach. These moments provide a counterweight to the narrow vision which otherwise dominates our experience, and justify a reevaluation of the possible relevance of the Torah to our lives. To accept as definitive of existence the limited vision to which we have become accustomed is to kill our deeper self, and with it our hopes of achieving our humanity.



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