Sunday, January 4, 2015

An atheism which glorifies God



"There are atheisms that exist for the glory of God", asserted Fr. Albert Chapelle, a Jesuit, in a remarkable course on theodicy he gave at the Institut d’Etudes Théologiques (IET) of Brussels. What he meant by this is that the rejection of God is often the result of an image of Him given by those who claim to follow and serve Him, which is nothing more than a caricature.

What Fr. Chapelle claimed appears to be finding a new illustration in the Muslim world. Many observers are detecting a profound movement of rejection of religion in the Arab world. Such is the case especially among the younger generations behind the uprisings of the "Arab spring", so quickly seized upon by Islamists.

The savage atrocities perpetrated by the Islamic State and its Caliph have the power of simply disgusting those who, even if raised in an environment of Muslim devotion, discover the grinning face of the god whom these monsters believe they are serving.

A recent article published on the Free Arab website provides an interesting analysis of the phenomenon. Another interesting article, in French, is published in a Lebanese newspaper and summarized by the Courrier International.


From my point of view, that of a Christian, atheism is obviously not the ultimate answer, but if it means to be a step in getting rid of brutish pseudo-religious idols, it is welcome.


Fiodor

Friday, December 5, 2014

Eight minutes in Paradise



I lack the time to write somewhat thoughtful texts. But I try to find short moments of spiritual "breath" through music.
Here is one, found in Schubert (which will not surprise those who know me).
It is a fragment of an unfinished piano sonata (in F sharp minor, No. 8, D 571). Schubert would have written it in 1817 (he was then 20 years).
All the art and the genius of Schubert are there. This is the "wanderer" dreamily walking in the countryside. It is nostalgic without being sad, full of energy and restraint at the same time, with an extraordinary thematic richness...
I find particularly beautiful a passage that starts at 3’20 and lasts about a minute. It’s like thoughts that rise and come back, then leave in another direction, unfinished and as unsettled…
Such music can reconcile you with yourself and with the world.
I have said enough: now just listen



Fiodor

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Music leads to God





A few days ago, I finished reading an important book of which I shall have to speak again: Ari Shavit’s My Promised Land: The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel(*).

Passing over the principal topic of the book, which addresses the history and future of the State of Israel, I would like to draw attention to a passage without direct link to this theme. It concerns music and what it produces in the heart and soul of people. The experience which the author evokes touches upon one I have made repeatedly: finding peace and joy, and even the desire for God, while listening to a musical work. “Good” music can stir up a sense of God’s mystery. No image can depict it; it is nothing attainable by reasoning. It is a beauty that pierces the heart and the soul. 
The beginnings of Ein Harod kibbutz
In this passage, Ari Shavit harks back to Ein Harod’s kibbutz, in the time of the pioneers, in 1926. The kibbutzim are almost all young men and women from Europe, uprooted and having put aside their religious tradition. One day, the great violinist Jascha Heifetz comes to give a concert. Here is how Shavit reports the event.

From day one, the rough Labor Brigade pioneers of Ein Harod have had a soft spot for all things musical. One of them has an explanation. “The playing of classical music fills the void in our lives”, he writes.
The time of music is the only time that our communal dining room resembles a place of worship. There is a reason for that. Leaving God behind caused a terrible shock to us all. It destroyed the basis of our lives as Jews. This became the tragic contradiction or our new life. We had to start from scratch and build a civilization from the very foundation. Yet we had no foundation to build on. We had no Ultimate. Above us there were blue skies and a radiant sun, but no God. That’s the truth we couldn’t ignore and cannot ignore for a moment. That is the void. And music for us is an attempt to fill the void. When the sounds of violins fill our dining hall, they reacquaint us with life’s other dimension. They raise the deepest, forgotten feelings buried in all of us. Our eyes close, turn inward, and an aura almost of sanctity enwraps us all.

This "aura of sanctity" recalls the cloud that marked the divine presence, the Shekinah, during the exodus of the People of God (cf. Exodus 40: 34-38): a tangible sign which manifests an invisible presence, just as the sound of music striking our ears and opening up a window on the infinite.

To put theory into practice, here is Mendelssohn’s violin concerto played by Jascha Heifetz, with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Sir Thomas Beecham. The recording is old (1949) and the style is a bit old-fashioned according to current tastes, but just let yourself be moved by the music


 


Fiodor


(*) Ari SHAVIT, My Promised Land: The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel, New York, Spiegel & Grau, 2013, 450 p.

Thursday, October 2, 2014

The one kills, the other one heals…


Even from this torn Middle East, some comforting information has arrived.
A few days ago, we heard a representative of the moderate Syrian opposition, Dr. Kamal al-Labwani, thank Israel for the medical care provided to Syrians wounded in the fighting which rage in this country: "This moving humanitarian gesture is an opening for rapprochement between the two peoples and hope for peace on quieter days".

And then a few days ago, a friend drew my attention to the moving testimony of an Israeli Arab physician, Dr. Ahmed Eid. Professor Eid who evokes how he did surgery on a young Jewish soldier shot at close range by an Arab. This testimony was published by the Times of Israel.

I particularly underline a sentence of Professor Ahmed Eid: "I feel part of this state, and I get irritated with those who doubt it (…) I am Israeli and I don’t need to prove it. It’s presented as a dilemma: We’re Arabs, how do we feel? My loyalty to the state is in no doubt.”


Fiodor

Thursday, September 25, 2014

A long silence


For several months, I didn’t publish anything in the English version of my blog. To tell the truth, I was hardly mobilized by the situation in the Middle East, with the war against Hamas in Gaza. Most articles which I published in July and August on the French blog were devoted to this topic, mainly in relation to the way the events were presented in Europe; that is why I did not feel useful to translate them for a predominantly non-European audience.

In September, I published three texts consisting, essentially, in long quotations from books published in French... For them too, I sensed it difficult to translate into English without betraying the authors nor lose the flavor of the original.
I hope not to wait too long before feeding again "a heedful idiot". Meanwhile, I notice a very curious thing: For several months, the number of visits to the French version of the blog coming from the United States is steadily increasing and reaches almost half of the total...


Fiodor

Friday, July 4, 2014

Dostoevsky anti-Semitic?

Dostoevsky in 1876

I just finished reading a remarkable book about Dostoevsky’s philosophy(1). One chapter of the book particularly caught my attention. The author demonstrates that the charge of anti-Semitism leveled against the writer is unfounded. It reminded me of an article that I published here in September 2012: “A spot on the beautiful garment”. It was about a so-called anti-Semitism of Dostoevsky. When that article was published, Pierre Lamblé sent me a comment in which he strongly disagreed with this assertion. He wrote: “The anti-Semitism of Dostoevsky is a myth based on nonsense, on a misunderstanding on the nature of his work, of his conditions of work and production, and on anachronisms. We cannot comment on what D. wrote about the Jews in his time with our current criteria of reading; in reality, he consistently expressed feelings of sympathy for the Jews in general, and especially in his works of fiction”. And he invited me to read a chapter he devoted to this issue in his book. I followed his advice and found convincing answers in the ten pages he dedicates to the question, in a section entitled “The Politics of Dostoevsky”. In these pages, Lamblé criticizes a book published in 1976 by David Goldstein, under the title “Dostoïevski et les Juifs” (Dostoevsky and the Jews).

However, before I address a few arguments developed by Lamblé, one must remember that Dostoevsky is dependent on the prevailing mentality of the Orthodox society of his time and that he adopts many common anti-Jewish stereotypes: taste for money, rootlessness, subservience, etc. But, as Lamblé explains it, by having some of his characters take on these traits, the writer joins his readers in their prejudice so as eventually to better underscore their vanity. We find a similar “strategy” in the French writer Léon Bloy, friend of Jews and slayer of anti-Judaism. In Le Salut vient des Juifs (Salvation comes from the Jews), Bloy, too, highlights several typical clichés of Christian anti-Judaïsm, but it is from this apparent attribution made of the average anti-Semite that he operates a shift and asserts that “the Jewish people stop the History of nations as a dam bars the course of a river, to raise its level”. Following a recent attempt to censor Le Salut vient des Juifs, Alexis Galperin, the great-grandson of Léon Bloy wrote: “The book explicitly adopts the method of St. Thomas, which consists in exhausting every objection, that is, in letting the opponent spit his venom ad nauseam. So, after the first pages, in which Drumont, trampling the holy image of Moses, is lambasted as ‘turlupin sacrilege’, the writer opens the window to the great medieval rush of anti-Jewish violence, plunging, without hiding from it, into an abyss of feelings from which he himself was not exempt. This is what he calls ‘the premises of calculated violence’. In a perfectly planned ‘mise en abyme’(hall of mirrors effect) the crescendo of hatred stops suddenly, abruptly, so that a rise in the glory of Israel can eventually be realized, with an incomparable power”.

Impossible to summarize here all the argumentation of Pierre Lamblé. Let us look, with him, at two characters explicitly identified as Jews by Dostoevsky: Isaiah Fomitch in Notes from the House of the Dead and Lyamshin in Demons. Of course, both characters have somewhat ridiculous, and even rude, personal aspects. But, observes Lamblé, “far from attracting to him the violence of those who surround him, [Fomitch], on the contrary, attracts general sympathy (...) Dostoevsky has taken up the caricatured figure of the Jew, but it is in order to reverse fully the meaning it had...” As for Lyamshin, Lamblé notes that in the group of conspirators who instigated the assassination of Chatov “Lyamshin the Jew is the only one to react humanely to the terror that seizes him in front of the monstrousness of the murder”. And when Dostoevsky writes that, under the influence of this terror, “Lyamshin shouted with a voice that was no longer human but animal”, he suggests that the man expels these “demons” who took possession of the conspirators (and that the novel's title evokes). “While all the others, ethnic Russians, are from now on possessed by the devil, by the ritual murder committed in common, only Lyamshin, the Jew, is able to resist and expel him (...) as he is protected by his religion and by his God, whom the Russians had lost. We find, in this privilege granted by Dostoevsky to his Jewish character, a mark of the utmost respect, and even, on the part of a Christian, a quite extraordinary respect to the Hebrew religion and the sons of Israel”.
 
Notes for The Brothers Karamazov
On the other hand, about the article in the Writer’s Diary entitled “The Jewish Question” Pierre Lamblé refutes once again, in a very clear way, the charge of anti-Semitism. As he wrote in the comment he sent me in 2013, Dostoevsky published work in newspapers only for financial reasons and “he admitted himself that these articles were only commercial products without real meaning”.

Besides that, since his conviction for participating in Petrashevsky’s socialist circle in 1849, the writer was the object of closely scrutiny by imperial censorship, especially in his articles, and was careful to appear loyal to the regime which, as we know, was hardly favorable to the Jews. Finally, as I remarked in “A spot on the beautiful garment”, the article on “The Jewish Question” is immediately followed by another which shows a real sympathy for the Jews and places them in the perspective rather of a “brotherhood”.

Finally, in underlining the lack of seriousness of the criticism developed by David Goldstein, Pierre Lamblé points out that even the author of Dostoïevski et les Juifs is compelled not to withhold the fact that, in several of his writings, Dostoevsky systematically takes to heart “the defense of the Jews in terms that do not contain any ambiguity”. But, notes Lamblé with humor, the only way for Goldstein to explain this attitude, which completely contradicts his thesis, is to describe it as the result of a “momentary aberration”!

Ivan Kramskoi (1837-1887) Insulted Jewish boy
With his extensive knowledge of Dostoevsky's work and his penetrating analysis of the writer’s thought, Lamblé does not hesitate to assert that “there is probably no other Christian author who has brought respect for the Jewish tradition to this level”. And he adds: “Let us compare what Dostoevsky, in his Diary, writes elsewhere about French people (vomiting), Englishmen, Germans, Poles, Catholics and the Pope, and finally Protestants (without speaking of Russians themselves!) and we shall be forced to recognize objectively that, far from mistreating Jews in particular, Dostoevsky shows them a quite amazing benevolence”. Is this not heartening?

Fiodor

(1) Pierre LAMBLÉ, La métaphysique de l’histoire de Dostoïevski. La philosophie de Dostoïevski, tome 2. Essai de Littérature et Philosophie Comparée, Paris, L’Harmattan, 2001.