Timothy Chambers Review of "A Cabinet of Philosophical Curiosities" by Roy Sorensen

 (New York: Oxford University Press 2016) in Teaching Philosophy (June 2019): pages 157-159

 https://www.scribd.com/document/413077750/Timothy-Chambers-Review-of-A-Cabinet-of-Philosophical-Curiosities-by-Roy-Sorensen

 

Timothy Chambers Hartford

The God of Second Chances by Erik Kolbell

The God of Second Chances
by

Erik Kolbell

The homework assignment I gave myself on this book was as follows:

How are the matters of Kolbell's first 5 chapters--Restoration, Rebirth, Reconciliation, Remembrance and Redemption--related?

And here's my answer to this essay question:

For Kolbell, restoration refers to restoration of relationship with God (though it could refer to restoring any personal relationship): "We recognize," Kolbell writes, "that our relationship with God is one of exile and restoration...of picking ourselves up where we have fallen, accepting the Divine second chance, and trying again to live in concert with our higher angels rather than our lower impulses" (page ix). In order for restoration to begin, there must be a "recognition that one is in exile"--which to me means one is perhaps living in an imbalanced way, has a heart hardened by ingratitude and miserliness. Eventually the misery--and isolation--of such a state of soul leads to a yearning for a restoration of relationship (with God)--a restoration of: "[1] a sense of *balance* to our lives, [2] a sense of *gratitude* to God for what we have and
[3] *generosity* to others for what they do not have" (pages 7-8).

Initiation of restoration requires a kind of rebirth, though Kalbell clarifies wisely: "Rebirth," he writes, "is not so much a moment but a mind-set" (page 17). It's not just a single once-and-for-all-moment; instead, it's "a recurring choice that presents itself at every turn...we choose to believe that God is in our hearts or He's not" (page 23). And what does it mean to be "reborn"? What does it mean to have God in our hearts? Well, since "God is love" (I John 4:8), the choice for rebirth is a choice to embody a "love that is patient and kind, not jealous or boastful, not arrogant or rude; a love that does not insist on its own way, and does not rejoice in wrong; a love that bears all things, hopes all things, and endures all things (I Corinthians 13:4-7)" (page 23).

Needless to say, the choice to be reborn--to embody a selfless love like this--is much easier said than actually done. Small wonder that the choice of rebirth must be made at every moment!

Small wonder, too, that maintaining such a "mind-set of rebirth" requires contrived remembrance--prompted, perhaps, by regular rituals (prayers, meditations, meetings with one's fellowship or support-group). Because "[o]ur memories are fickle and fleeting...without [the] discipline [of remembering rituals], the memory of the [I]mportant [T]hing will lie buried among the unpaid bills, the runny noses and the dirty laundry" (page 46). In 12 Step Groups, mention is made of an addict's "built-in forgetter" that makes it all too easy to forget the horrors of the last go-around with alcohol or drugs. Without deliberate remembrance, it's all too easy to make choices that lead to (re-)exile from God.

And reconciliation? Well, it would be a rare thing if, during the misery of exile, one didn't also damage one's relationships with people. Hence the hope of reconciliation (with others) as one seeks restoration of one's relationship with God.

For Kolbell, the two parts of initiation of reconciliation are confession of the transgressions one has committed, and an attempt to atone for those sins. (Even if the wronged person knows how they were sinned against, it still probably helps for the wrongdoer to "confess" the sins--in the sense of taking full responsibility for them.) Kolbell illustrates this by Jacob's confession, and gesture of atonement to, his brother Esau as Genesis 32:10-14 (pages 33-34). A similar dynamic can be found in 12 Step Groups: one confesses at Step 5: "Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. And an attempt at atonement occurs at Step 9: "Made direct amends, wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others."

Of course, there is no guarantee that such efforts will yield reconciliation with the wronged party--or even forgiveness by the person who has been wronged. But that's to be expected--and accepted; because, as the Big Book counsels, confession and atonement are simply intended "to sweep off our side of the street...it should not matter...if [the wronged person] does throw us out of his office. We have...done our part" (Alcoholics Anonymous, pages 77-78).

Postscript: Which brings us to redemption, meaning a deliverance from bondage (page 54). Once we have been delivered from the slavery of exile--whether the bondage be physical, behavioral or mental--what then? Beware: There's no guarantee that this deliverance will persist; redemption is not self-propelled. 12-Steppers speak of the constant threat of "relapse"--of turning one's back on redemption and returning to addictive ways.

Thus Kolbell points out the "paradox of redemption...it comes to us in our weakness but [its persistence] is dependent of our strength. We are brought out of slavery by another, but when the cuffs are off it is our responsibility to keep them off" (page 60). How often is redemption only a temporary detour--that the redeemed stick with the program "until doubt overcomes faith or weakness gets the better of strength...until [one] tire[s] of the journey and all its privations...until a better[-seeming] offer comes along" (page 56)? How important it is that one's Spirit of Redemption be renewed daily--by ritual, by devoted remembrance, by fellowships and support-groups with others who have been similarly redeemed.

(What would be intriguing would be to extend the foregoing ideas to include other 7 "Re-"-concepts: Revelation, Resurrection, Reflection, Religion, Receiving, Retreat, and Revival. To be continued...)

Kinsey and Me: Stories by Sue Grafton

I focused on the 13 sketches in the last third of this book (pp. 211-283): "In these pieces," one Chicago Tribune reviewer wrote Grafton "revisits the traumatic events of her early adulthood, when she was called upon to take care of her mother, who was well into the process of drinking herself to death." The sketches focus on her mother's presence in life (pp. 211-231), her illness and death (pp. 233-243) and how "Kit's" life evolves afterward--with her mother gone from the world, but never far from Kit's thoughts (pp. 245-281).

Certainly one could find many themes in these brief 70 pages, but one irony kept me rapt: Grafton was truly great in crafting a mystery; I wrote a few comments about one of them here. Yet one recurring mystery she would never personally solve was the mind of her dying mother.

Judy Belushi once wondered, of her self-destructive comedian husband, "What could be going on inside this person to make him so unhappy?" (Wired: The Short Life and Fast Times of John Belushi, page 11). Grafton repeatedly finds herself confronted by a similar--unsolvable--mystery:

page 213: "all the time, [she] lay there, saying nothing, moving not at all except to smoke. What went on inside that head? What could her mother think of hour after hour, day after day? ...What was the woman angry about?"

page 220: "I have no notion in the world what has happened to her between that time [of a seemingly happier youth] and this; only that some battle must have raged somewhere to take such a toll from that once sturdy frame."

page 222: "The X-ray will show it. One soul, sadly cracked in a way that no one can mend. Perhaps the doctor will prescribe lots of alcohol, who knows?"

pages 236-237: "And you understand in that moment how like a prison this [hospital] is also, how like a prisoner she is, shut away in the captive silence of her head. And you understand that she's always been this way, locked away from you, locked away from life."

page 247: "Somehow, at some point, and for reasons unknown, the woman in the photograph, looking fresh and pleased with herself at thirty-two, became no more than a pile of rags on a dark green spread."

page 277: "I've even thought of...send[ing] for her medical records in New York as though in the cataloging of heart, lungs, and temperature, I might learn something new about who she was and how she's related to me."

page 282: "What you say to [your father] is this: we did, yes, fail in our lives, the four of us: you and [mother], [sister] and me. We died of all the unwept tears and all the things we never understood."

And this last observation reminds me of something Dr. Sheldon Kopp once observed, mourning a patient he was unable to reach: "Now I cared, now that it was too late. The other men in group mourned Norman as they might a handicapped brother who had died, a child lost somehow because no one knew how to ask him where it hurt" (If You Meet the Buddha on the Road, Kill Him: The Pilgrimage Of Psychotherapy Patients, page 158). 

Marriage manuals all tell us that relationships die from a dearth of communication. So do alcoholics. 

The Lord Is My Shepherd: Healing Wisdom of the Twenty-third Psalm by Harold S. Kushner

"God's promise was never that life would be fair," writes Rabbi Harold Kushner, best-known for his bestseller When Bad Things Happen to Good People. "God's promise was that, when we had to confront the unfairness of life, we would not have to do it alone" (page 3). This, Kushner points out, reflects the wisdom of Psalm 23. Many volumes could be written about this psalm, Kushner says, since "the Twenty-third Psalm gives us an entire theology, a more practical theology than we can find in many books" (page 9). Kushner's short book walks us, verse by verse, through the orchard of Psalm 23, plucking bits of wisdom along the way.

"We can read this Twenty-third Psalm as a drama in three acts," Kushner writes (page 164). I take my cue from Kushner and divide this review into three parts:

(1)
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul. (Psalm 23:1-3)

"Act one is serene, pastoral," Kushner comments. "The psalmist feels safe and secure, and he thanks God, his faithful shepherd, for providing him with that security."

This part of the Psalm reminds me of the more idyllic seasons of Life. Perhaps one purpose of this part of the Psalm is to remind us of God's role "behind the scenes" of the pleasant parts of Life. It's all too easy to grow complacent when everything is going well--I know I, personally, am vulnerable to this spiritual blind-spot.

Rabbi Kushner offers a number of informed points which help us appreciate these verses. To better understand the responsibilities of a shepherd--and the meaning Psalm 23 would carry for ancient hearers--Kushner directs us (at page 21) to Jacob's self-declared conscientiousness as a shepherd to Laban's flocks (Genesis 31:38-39); and, in fact, a shepherd's duties were so serious that they're written into the Mosaic Law (see Exodus 22:10-13).

Also, Kushner points out that the Hebrew for "still waters" is mei menuhot--"waters of rest and relaxation" (page 56). And how, specifically, does God "restore [our] soul[s]"? For starters, by giving us the "rest and relaxation" commanded by the Sabbath: "Do you know who was the first to replenish his soul on the Sabbath? God Himself....(Exodus 31:13-17). In Hebrew, the verbs referring to God's resting and being refreshed are shavat, "He stopped," from which we get the word 'Sabbath'" (page 65).

(2)
Yea, though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil for Thou art with me.
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.
Thou anointest my head with oil.
My cup runneth over. (Psalm 23:4-5)

"Act two turns dark and stormy," Kushner comments. "The psalmist's life is interrupted by trauma, tragedy and bereavement...he finds himself alone in a dark valley. Then he learns he is not really alone. He comes to see God not only as the source of the good things in life, but as the source of comfort and consolation in hard times" (page 164)

Just as complacency about God is a spiritual risk during good times, rejection of God is a hazard during down times. "A skeptic might ask, If the Lord is my shepherd, if it's His responsibility to keep me safe, why isn't He doing a better job of it?" (page 21) It's noteworthy that Rabbi Kushner has personal experience with this: when his son died (of progeria), Rabbi Kushner and his wife attended a support group; there, he met people "who were so angry at God that they had not set foot in a church or synagogue for years" (page 101). Kushner understands this anger. At best, all we can say is what was mentioned at the head of this review: God's promise is that, in those times we feel deluged by the slings and arrows of life, we need not endure that trial alone; God's promise is the comfort to "protect us from letting pain and loss define our lives" (page 98).

A scholarly footnote: Rabbi Kushner points out that in Psalm 23, "the Hebrew text does not speak of 'the shadow of death'--the original Hebrew word was tzalamut, meaning 'deep darkness.' But the editors of the King James Bible read it as two words tzal mavet ('the shadow of death'), and in a sense they may have understood what the author was trying to say better than the author himself did" (page 86).

Kushner also directs our attention to the shift in Divine pronoun from "He" (verses 1-3) to "Thou" (verses 4-5). The transition is important, Kushner observes: In using "He," the psalmist is "offering us theology, talking to us about God," but in the switch to "Thou," the psalmist is "offering religion, the experience of encountering God" (pages 100-101).

On to verse 5. When I, personally, read "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies," I am reminded of God's comforting of a fearful, dejected Elijah at 1 Kings 19:4-6:
But he himself went a day's journey into the wilderness,
and came and sat down under a juniper tree: and he requested
for himself that he might die; and said, It is enough; now,
O LORD, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers.
And as he lay and slept under a juniper tree, behold, then an
angel touched him, and said unto him, Arise and eat.
And he looked, and, behold, there was a cake baken on the coals,
and a cruse of water at his head. And he did eat and drink, and laid him down again.

And when I read "Thou anointest my head with oil," I'm reminded of the healing advice given in the Christian Scriptures:
Is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him. (James 5:14-15)

Rabbi Kushner finds significance in the word anointed: "[The word] 'Christ'...[is] a Greek word meaning 'the anointed one'....If every one of us, like the author of the Twenty-third Psalm, feels anointed by God,...then every one of us has a responsibility to make this world a little bit more like the world God would like it to be" (pages 139-140).

Lastly, for Rabbi Kushner, the verse "my cup runneth over" connotes gratitude, "the fundamental religious emotion" (page 145). And indeed, insofar as gratitude occurs when we realize we've received a gift "not by [our] own efforts" (page 146), then to have gratitude is to see our possessions as expressions of Divine Grace. Conversely, an inability to be grateful often points to the deeper spiritual maladies of feeling entitled ["I deserve it!"] or self-sufficient ["I could have gotten that myself!"] (page 150-151).

(3)
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life
And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever (Psalm 23:6)

Just a couple of points here:
(a) "Whole books have been written about the Hebrew word hesed, here translated as 'mercy,' more commonly rendered as 'lovingkindness.' I like to think of hesed as 'unearned love'...[though] is there really any other kind [of love]?" (pages 160-161)

(b) "What does it mean to dwell in the house of the Lord? 'Home' is such an evocative word. It speaks of love, an enduring relationship. [In "Death of the Hired Man,"] Robert Frost defines it as 'something you somehow don't have to deserve'...[it] symbolizes safety, security, a refuge from the dangers of the world outside" (page 165)

In sum, I'm delighted I've read Rabbi Kushner's gem of a book; it's deepened my meditations on the 23rd Psalm. I know I'd be pleased to read this book again.