| ARS 
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		Preveč dobrega je lahko  ... čudovito. (Mae West) 
		Posts: 2510 
		daleč od rodne barjanske grude 
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			Dag Hammarskjold, the former UN Secretary-General, put it so beautifully: "God does not die on the day we cease to believe in a personal deity.  But
 we die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady
 radiance of wonder renewed daily, the source of which is beyond all
 reason."  We don't have to quarrel about a word, because "God" is only a
 word, a concept.  One never quarrels about reality; we only quarrel about
 opinions, about concepts, about judgments.  Drop your concepts, drop your
 opinions, drop your prejudices, drop your judgments, and you will see that.
 
 "Quia de deo scire non possumus quid sit, sed quid non sit, non possumus
 considerare de deo, quomodo sit sed quomodo non sit."  This is St.  Thomas
 Aquinas' introduction to his whole Summa Theologica: "Since we cannot know
 what God is, but only what God is not, we cannot consider how God is but
 only how He is not."  I have already mentioned Thomas' commentary on
 Boethius' De Sancta Trinitate, where he says that the loftiest degree of
 the knowledge of God is to know God as the unknown, tamquam ignotum.  And
 in his Questio Disputata de Potentia Dei, Thomas says, "This is what is
 ultimate in the human knowledge of God -- to know that we do not know
 God."  This gentleman was considered the prince of theologians.  He was a
 mystic, and is a canonized saint today.  We're standing on pretty good ground.
 
 In India, we have a Sanskrit saying for this kind of thing: "neti,
 neti."  It means: "not that, not that."  Thomas' own method was referred to
 as the via negativa, the negative way.  C.  S.  Lewis wrote a diary while
 his wife was dying.  It's called A Grief Observed.  He had married an
 American woman whom he loved dearly.  He told his friends, "God gave me in
 my sixties what He denied me in my twenties."  He hardly had married her
 when she died a painful death of cancer.  Lewis said that his whole faith
 crumbled, like a house of cards.  Here he was the great Christian
 apologist, but when disaster struck home, he asked himself, "Is God a
 loving Father or is God the great vivisectionist?"  There's pretty good
 evidence for both! I remember that when my own mother got cancer, my sister
 said to me, "Tony, why did God allow this to happen to Mother?"  I said to
 her, "My dear, last year a million people died of starvation in China
 because of the drought, and you never raised a question."  Sometimes the
 best thing that can happen to us is to be awakened to reality, for calamity
 to strike, for then we come to faith, as C. S. Lewis did.  He said that he
 never had any doubts before about people surviving death, but when his wife
 died, he was no longer certain.  Why?  Because it was so important to him
 that she be living.  Lewis, as you know, is the master of comparisons and
 analogies.  He says, "It's like a rope.  Someone says to you, 'Would this
 bear the weight of a hundred twenty pounds?' You answer, 'Yes.'  'Well,
 we're going to let down your best friend on this rope.'  Then you say,
 'Wait a minute, let me test that rope again.'  You're not so sure
 now."  Lewis also said in his diary that we cannot know anything about God
 and even our questions about God are absurd.  Why?  It's as though a person
 born blind asks you, "The color green, is it hot or cold?" Neti, neti, not
 that.  "Is it long or is it short?"  Not that.  "Is it sweet or is it
 sour?"  Not that.  "Is it round or oval or square?"  Not that, not
 that.  The blind person has no words, no concepts, for a color of which he
 has no idea, no intuition, no experience.  You can only speak to him in
 analogies.  No matter what he asks, you can only say, "Not that."  C. S.
 Lewis says somewhere that it's like asking how many minutes are in the
 color yellow.  Everybody could be taking the question very seriously,
 discussing it, fighting about it.  One person suggests there are
 twenty-five carrots in the color yellow, the other person says, "No,
 seventeen potatoes," and they're suddenly fighting.  Not that, not that!
 
 This is what is ultimate in our human knowledge of God, to know that we do
 not know.  Our great tragedy is that we know too much.  We think we know,
 that is our tragedy; so we never discover.  In fact, Thomas Aquinas (he's
 not only a theologian but also a great philosopher) says repeatedly, "All
 the efforts of the human mind cannot exhaust the essence of a single fly."
 
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