{"id":303,"date":"2017-11-06T18:51:51","date_gmt":"2017-11-06T18:51:51","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/?p=303"},"modified":"2017-11-06T18:53:00","modified_gmt":"2017-11-06T18:53:00","slug":"the-mystical-art-of-unsaying","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/?p=303","title":{"rendered":"The Mystical Art of Unsaying"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/STOCK_21241347_m.jpg\"><img decoding=\"async\" loading=\"lazy\" class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-304\" src=\"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/STOCK_21241347_m-300x199.jpg\" alt=\"STOCK_21241347_m\" width=\"300\" height=\"199\" srcset=\"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/STOCK_21241347_m-300x199.jpg 300w, http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/STOCK_21241347_m.jpg 850w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong>Sermon #25 (5th November 2017 at Essex Church \/ Kensington Unitarians)<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s up to me, once again, to kick off our new theme for the month here at Essex Church. Throughout November we\u2019re going to be looking into \u2018The Unknown\u2019, and today, in particular, we\u2019re focusing on the concept of God \u2013 the idea that God is, in some sense, unknown \u2013 and ultimately unknowable \u2013 that God is so unlike anything else we humans have experienced or gained knowledge of, so utterly beyond the limits of what we can understand, that we can never really hope to grasp whatever it is we mean by \u2018God\u2019. On this view, it could be said that when we speak of God, as we do most weeks at church, we literally do not know what we are talking about! None of us. Certainly not me, anyway.<\/p>\n<p>Not an especially reassuring thought to be bringing to you from the pulpit, but there it is. As the Unitarian Universalist minister Robert Walsh put it (in the reading that Antony gave for us earlier), <em>\u2018God is a mystery \u2013 [a creating, transforming, sustaining mystery] \u2013 and is always and forever beyond every mortal attempt to figure God out and settle God once and for all.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n<p><!--more--><\/p>\n<p>And yet, as Victoria Safford wrote (in the second reading, that Sonya gave for us), she \u2013 and we \u2013 still use God-language <em>\u2018because sometimes there is no other metaphor, no other symbol, no other poetry, no other offering\u2019.<\/em> There\u2019s something in us that draws us \u2013 regardless \u2013 towards religious language, to try and talk about the deeper things of life, to speak of things we don\u2019t fully understand.<\/p>\n<p>So what <em>are<\/em> we talking about when we talk about God? Well, it depends. It seems that some people are, fairly straightforwardly, talking about a supernatural being \u2013 not exactly the old man with a beard in the sky that we think of from child-like caricatures, generally \u2013 but a supernatural person, a cosmic mind, we might say \u2013 out there, somewhere. However, many of us don\u2019t exactly believe in a supernatural being of that sort, so we use religious language more symbolically, perhaps to refer to some underlying metaphysical reality, something a bit more nebulous, which is harder to grasp. Another possibility is that when we talk about God we\u2019re playing a sophisticated \u2018language game\u2019 and not really talking about any objective reality \u2013 whether that\u2019s a supernatural being or the underlying metaphysical workings of the universe \u2013 at all. Instead we might be using God-talk as part of a whole system of religious language and ritual which affirms our commitment to a certain set of shared values and way of looking at life.<\/p>\n<p>When we talk about God, it is not always obvious which of these we are engaging in. Are we being literal and speaking directly about a supernatural being? Are we being symbolic and speaking metaphorically about an underlying cosmic reality? Are we playing a non-realist language-game which has got nothing to do with either a supernatural being or an underlying reality but which is instead intended to support us in living out our highest values in the world? It\u2019s possible that \u2013 as individuals, and as a community \u2013 we\u2019re doing any or all of these things, even switching between them from time to time. In truth, I suspect for many of us, we\u2019re not always totally clear about this ourselves. In fact, this was the topic of my recent dissertation, and even after spending months and months thinking and writing about it, and talking to other people, I\u2019m still not entirely sure what I\u2019m doing with religious language myself\u2026<\/p>\n<p>Perhaps it will be something of a comfort to us all to know that we\u2019re in good company \u2013 good and faithful religious people of all stripes have been struggling with such questions forever \u2013 there is a (reasonably) reputable strand of theology that may be particularly useful to reflect on. Apophatic theology, sometimes also known as negative theology, or the <em>via negativa<\/em>, can be traced way back through Christian history, to the Fathers of the Early Church, through key thinkers such as the marvellously named \u201cPseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite\u201d [as an aside: the reason he is not just called Dionysius the Areopagite, but Pseudo-Dionysius, is that this was just a pseudonym, somebody adopted the name of \u201cDionysius the Areopagite\u201d, a character in the Acts of the Apostles, from a much earlier era, and as far as I can make out he did this to piggy-back on a biblical character to gain credibility and get his works more widely read, which by all accounts worked, so good on him]. Apophatic theology is particularly connected to the mystics, most notably Meister Eckhart, but there are also a number of Jewish and Sufi mystics who were thinking along similar lines (including our old friend Maimonides, who cropped up in a service a few weeks back, and also the likes of Sufi poets Rumi and Hafez).<\/p>\n<p>So \u2013 after all this preamble \u2013 what is apophatic, or negative, theology? Well, apparently, the root of the word, apophasis, originally meant \u2018denial\u2019, so that\u2019s our first clue. Apophatic theology attempts to speak of God only in terms of what cannot be said about God. As you\u2019re probably already realising, apophatic theology is paradoxical through and through. William Franke sums it up in one mind-bending phrase (on the front of your order of service):<\/p>\n<p><em>\u2018Only the unsaying of language can \u201csay\u201d what cannot be said.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n<p>And we\u2019ll return to that idea of \u2018unsaying\u2019 a bit later on.<\/p>\n<p>Megan Foley, a Unitarian Universalist minister, has her own particular take on apophatic theology. She says:<\/p>\n<p><em>\u2018There is no shortage of voices shouting out what they think God is. And it\u2019s important for people who are spiritually curious to be able to articulate what they are sure God is not, while they are on their way to finding out what God might be, so that they don\u2019t get unduly misguided, or hurt, by all that\u2019s already out there. It can\u2019t all be true. And I\u2019m not the first to declare it important to know what God is not; that tradition goes way back, and was particularly notable in the 9th century. That\u2019s when theologian John Scotus Eriguena [a fan and translator of Pseudo-Dionysius] made this statement [note : please excuse the gendered language &#8211; bear in mind it was written about 1200 years ago]: &#8220;We do not know what God is. God Himself does not know what He is because He is not anything. Literally God is not, because He transcends being.&#8221;\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n<p>[Megan Foley continues with her interpretation. She says:]<\/p>\n<p><em>\u2018I would translate that to say that a creator God is bigger than creation itself, and also bigger than anything any human being can understand or describe. God is not definable by any human conception and therefore no human language can capture what God is. Kind of mind boggling, isn\u2019t it? It kind of blows my mind, but back in the day, this was more than a mental exercise; a theology was born to describe God in terms of what God cannot possibly be, what God is not, so as to help people understand that [when we\u2019re talking about God] we\u2019re talking about something really outside the ordinary here. And that theology was called apophatic theology.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n<p>There are several interpretations of how apophatic theology works, but today I just want to tell you about one that I\u2019m particularly drawn to, based on the thought of Michael Sells, who wrote a book on the \u2018Mystical Languages of Unsaying\u2019. <em>[Michael Sells is a Prof of Islamic History and Literature in the Divinity School of the University of Chicago]<\/em> Now, pay attention, this bit may need to commit all of your brain cells \u2013 and it\u2019s still going to be confusing anyway \u2013 because it\u2019s meant to be! In a nutshell, according to Michael Sells, apophatic theology is a never-ending dialectical process, and it requires that every time you try to say something about God, you must immediately \u2018unsay\u2019 what you\u2019ve just said, as a sort-of correction. The idea is that \u2013 what with God being unknowable and all that \u2013 whatever we might say about God is going to be a bit wrong. Or a lot wrong. Utterly inadequate, at least \u2013 even if it is our very best effort at pronouncing theological wisdom. But it doesn\u2019t stop there. Once you\u2019ve said something, and then you\u2019ve \u2018unsaid\u2019 it, this apophatic process requires you to \u2018unsay\u2019 the thing you\u2019ve just \u2018unsaid\u2019 as well! And this goes on and on forever. It\u2019s not as if you\u2019re going to arrive at a final destination where you\u2019ll find a neat and tidy conclusion! That\u2019s not what it\u2019s about. It\u2019s nothing like other modes of theological or philosophical reflection. And that\u2019s why it\u2019s often been associated with the mystics. Going through this process of \u2018unsaying\u2019 is somehow supposed to disrupt your everyday ways of thinking and have a transformative effect. Mark McIntosh, a writer on Christian spirituality has said that: <em>\u2018Apophatic speech might take the form of a quieting down, a stilling into hushed silence. But it might also take the form of an explosion of speech, a carnival of self-subverting discourse, language tripping over itself in paradox or fantastical repetition as it comes undone in the whirlwind of divine superabundance.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n<p>And if you read some of the mystics, like the sermons of Meister Eckhart, you\u2019ll get a sense of that. Apparently he had a kind-of apophatic formula for his sermons (it sounds like they were very long!)&#8230; He\u2019d start out with something uncontroversial, maybe a well-known bible verse. For example, in his 87th sermon, he begins with the quotation: <em>\u2018blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.\u2019<\/em> This opening gambit would have been well-known to his congregation, and would have put them at ease, you might even say it lulled them into a false sense of security! Then he would have talked about how <em>\u2018poor\u2019<\/em> in this sense \u2013 in the saying <em>\u2018blessed are the poor\u2019<\/em> \u2013 didn\u2019t mean a lack of material wealth but instead a sort of internal poverty \u2013 of <em>\u2018wanting, having, and knowing nothing\u2019<\/em>. This is his first \u2018unsaying\u2019 \u2013 he\u2019s telling his listeners \u2018aha! It doesn\u2019t mean what you think it means\u2019. But then he \u2018unsays\u2019 that too, saying \u2018aha! It doesn\u2019t mean internal poverty in the way you think either!\u2019 And as he goes on and on, forever unsaying what he just said, the whole sermon gets ever stranger. At one point he famously cries out \u2018let us pray to God that we may be free of God!\u2019 (and while that kind-of makes sense in context it\u2019s no wonder he got in trouble with the Pope). It almost becomes a kind of mystical frenzy of contradictions and provocations. And I think the idea is that instead of trying to reason with his congregation, by attempting this process of \u2018unsaying\u2019, he is trying to evoke some direct experience within them, which is beyond reason and which pushes them towards their own mystical encounters with God.<\/p>\n<p>There might be a temptation for people (including us Unitarians) to \u2018settle\u2019 on a certain theological understanding or model of God \u2013 especially if we\u2019ve worked hard to get our head round it \u2013 and to dig in and defend a particular position which we find appealing or convincing. But apophatic theology insists that we <em>never<\/em> settle \u2013 that we stay conscious of our unknowing. It insists that we keep these big questions alive and that we avoid settling for easy answers. Whatever you say about God \u2013 it <em>can\u2019t<\/em> be the final word \u2013 we cannot grasp the ungraspable. But you might say that through this never-ending dynamic and dialectical process of course-correction we can, perhaps, better stumble in a zig-zagging path towards God.<\/p>\n<p>Whatever our current theological understanding, collectively or as individuals, I think we can benefit from the insights of apophatic theology, and the process of \u2018unsaying\u2019 \u2013 even if only to put a little asterisk in our minds next to any theological pronouncements we might make \u2013 to remind ourselves that (as the theologian Keith Ward puts it): <em>\u2018God is beyond all human concepts. The most that they can do is to point, very inadequately, towards God.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n<p>I want to close with an echo of today\u2019s opening words, by Patricia Shelden, which I think affirm the apophatic aspect of all we do together here each week. She says:<\/p>\n<p><em>\u2018Here is where we gather in the presence of the Sacred.<\/em><br \/>\n<em>Here is where we gather to experience the Holy<\/em><br \/>\n<em>Here is where, together, we face the unanswerable questions<\/em><br \/>\n<em>and acknowledge that not knowing is as sublime as it is frustrating.<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n<p><em>Here we gather to worship, to experience something happen \u2013<\/em><br \/>\n<em>perhaps something different for each of us according to our beliefs,<\/em><br \/>\n<em>something unnamed, uncategorized, and unusual yet absolutely necessary.<\/em><br \/>\n<em>Here we are so gathered: our minds, our hearts, and our souls.\u2019<\/em><\/p>\n<p>May it always be so. Amen.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Sermon by Jane Blackall<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>An audio recording of this sermon is available:<\/strong><\/p>\n<!--[if lt IE 9]><script>document.createElement('audio');<\/script><![endif]-->\n<audio class=\"wp-audio-shortcode\" id=\"audio-303-1\" preload=\"none\" style=\"width: 100%;\" controls=\"controls\"><source type=\"audio\/mpeg\" src=\"http:\/\/www.kensington-unitarians.org.uk\/pod2011\/KU_jane.blackall_sermon_05.11.17.mp3?_=1\" \/><a href=\"http:\/\/www.kensington-unitarians.org.uk\/pod2011\/KU_jane.blackall_sermon_05.11.17.mp3\">http:\/\/www.kensington-unitarians.org.uk\/pod2011\/KU_jane.blackall_sermon_05.11.17.mp3<\/a><\/audio>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Sermon #25 (5th November 2017 at Essex Church \/ Kensington Unitarians) It\u2019s up to me, once again, to kick off our new theme for the month here at Essex Church. Throughout November we\u2019re going to be looking into \u2018The Unknown\u2019,<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/303"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=303"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/303\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":307,"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/303\/revisions\/307"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=303"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=303"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.rebelrebel.org.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=303"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}