Is Monotheism Murderous?

Richard Wolin profiles the Egyptologist Jan Assmann, describing one of his more controversial ideas this way:

Assmann argues that biblical monotheism, as codified by the Pentateuch, disrupted the political and cultural stability of the ancient world by introducing the concept of “religious exclusivity”: that is, by claiming, as no belief system had previously, that its God was the one true God, and that, correspondingly, all other gods were false. By introducing the idea of the “one true God,” Assmann suggests that monotheism upended one of the basic precepts of ancient polytheism: the principle of “divine translatability.” This notion meant that, in ancient Mesopotamia, the various competing deities and idols possessed a fundamental equivalence. This equivalence provided the basis for a constructive modus vivendi among the major empires and polities that predominated in the ancient world.

Assmann readily admits that the ancient Middle East was hardly an unending expanse of peaceable kingdoms. However, he suggests that before monotheism’s emergence, the rivalries and conflicts at issue were predominantly political rather than religious in nature. For this reason, they could be more readily contained. Monotheism raised the stakes of these skirmishes to fever pitch. According to Assmann, with monotheism’s advent, it became next to impossible to separate narrowly political disagreements from religious disputes about “ultimate ends” (Max Weber) or “comprehensive doctrines” (John Rawls). According to the new logic of “religious exclusivity,” political opponents to be conquered were turned into theological “foes” to be decimated.

In addition to coming perilously close to rehashing anti-Semitic tropes, Wolin argues that Assmann’s theories only tell part of the story:

A major failing of Assmann’s approach is that it systematically neglects ancient Judaism’s robust moral inclinations toward tolerance and neighborly love. Numerous prescriptions in the Old Testament, known as the Noachide Laws, stress the importance of providing hospitality and succor to strangers. As we read in Leviticus (19:33-34): “When a stranger resides with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as your self, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt.” Thus, contra Assmann, lurid tales of plunder, bloodlust, and divine retribution fail to tell the whole story.

An Unappealing Universe?

Jim Holt thinks “the universe is more ugly than it is beautiful”:

[T]he form we can expect reality to take at its most general level is that of an infinite, incomplete mediocre mess. The laws of physics are not particularly elegant. The ingredients of the universe show no aesthetic parsimony. There are 60 odd elementary particles. That’s way more than is necessary. If the universe is created by a God it’s a God with no sense of economy or elegance.

He also responds to the idea that beauty is “the mystery of life”:

I think the delight one experiences in grasping a truth is the same sort of delight that’s elicited by beauty. I hate to make the hoary old distinction between the beautiful and the sublime but I think that things that are deeply mysterious don’t appeal to me. I’m irritated by mystery. It’s a temperamental thing. I know some people love it. So the day is beautiful and the night is sublime, as Kant said fatuously in one of his early works. The day is flooded with sunlight and everything is crisp and clear in its contours whereas the night is obscurity with these pinpricks of light that are stars. In the extremely unlikely event that all cosmic mystery is somehow dissolved, I don’t think that will destroy my aesthetic appreciation of the cosmos, but then I don’t think the cosmos is an aesthetically satisfying object as a whole. It’s a botched job! I think we should send it back and get a new one!

Last year the Dish had Jim on as an Ask Anything guest – watch those videos here.

What God’s Love Feels Like

This month Brennan Manning, author of The Ragamuffin Gospel, passed away. Donald Miller shares a beautiful anecdote about the late priest and writer’s connection to Shel Silverstein:

[The Giving Tree‘s] a wonderful and sad story about the nature of love, about how true love holds up even while being used. It’s a violent and painful story depending on how you look at it.

What many people don’t know about that story is that Brennan Manning, who passed away on Friday of last week, and Shel Silverstein met when they were young and according to Manning, stayed in touch. Later, after Shel began to write and Manning became a priest, they had a conversation about God and God’s love. Manning asked Silverstein what he thought God’s love felt like. Silverstein thought about it for a while but had no answer. Much later, Silverstein got in touch with Manning and gave him a copy of The Giving Tree saying the book was his answer to Manning’s question.

Manning told the story so many times you have to wonder if it didn’t become his answer, too. I’ve abused God and He forgives me, Manning seems to be saying.

(Hat tip: Mockingbird)

The Secularization Of Buddhism

Anne Kingston examines the mainstreaming of Buddhist “mindfulness”:

Donald Lopez, a professor of Buddhist and Tibetan studies at the University of Michigan, calls “secular Buddhism” an oxymoron: “Buddhism has always been a religion,” he says. “To see it as a way of life is a modern conceit that disparages the lives and religious practices of Buddhists over thousands of years.” The author of The Scientific Buddha, published in 2012, says belief that “mindfulness” is an ancient Buddhist practice is a fallacy: “There’s a cachet that comes from saying some ancient sage a millennium ago in India invented these things,” he says. Lopez traces mindfulness as we know it to a quest to preserve Buddhism in Burma after the British occuptation in the 19th century; they deposed the king and destroyed the hierarchical Buddhist institution: “Some monks saw the British arrival as a sign of approaching apocalypse,” he says. “So they disseminated Buddhist philosophy and practice through the population.” That included meditation, traditionally done only by monks. “It was totally about self-preservation.”

Victorian Marriages

Their portrayal in fiction is hardly something to aspire to:

But if you really think about Victorian marriage plots, something doesn’t add up. Jane Eyre boasts one of the most appalling marriages in fiction, between Rochester and Bertha, before its happy ending. David Copperfield miscalculates drastically in his first marriage. The two main marriages in Eliot’s Middlemarch are disastrous. Catherine Earnshaw is hardly happy in her union with Edgar Linton. One could go on. In fact, as scholar Kelly Hager has recently noted, the “failed-marriage plot” is actually more common than the happy marriage one.

Even more intriguing, some of the happy marriages don’t look at all like the romantic love matches we expect today.

In fiction by Charlotte M. Yonge, who was wildly popular in the nineteenth century, characters seem to marry for companionship, mutual caretaking and affection, but never seem to feel anything like desire. (One of Yonge’s biographers even wondered if she knew how babies were made.) The odd thing is that these kinds of companionable matches exist everywhere in Victorian literature, once you start noticing them. For instance, David Copperfield ends up married to (ewww!) his foster-sister, and Fanny Price to her adoptive brother. And there is hardly a Victorian novel without cousin marriages – cousin marriages that seem to promise reliability, kindness, and safety, rather than passion.

Dating On Steroids

Minutes before going on a third date, Viola Gad dosed herself with oxytocin, a drug released during physical contact that makes you “feel calm, safe, and trusting.” She wanted to see whether it could help her fall in love:

I decided not to tell my date I had taken the hormone. [Neuropsychologist Marcel] Kinsbourne had explained that if just one person acts more comfortable and interested, it can spark a natural release of oxytocin in the other person. …

We took a tiny table in the middle of the room. It was a brightly lit, busy place, and the waitresses were screaming loud orders in Shanghainese. It wasn’t romantic, but I didn’t care—I was in a very good mood. And my date definitely seemed more confident and relaxed. I sensed that he liked this calmer version of me better than the very intense and chatty version he had met before. We took a long walk home, and, for the first and only time, I imagined us as a couple. …

After our very affectionate date, I was excited to meet him again a few days later. I didn’t take oxytocin this time. He came to my place for pancakes, and I was a little nervous. As he sat there in my kitchen, we suddenly had nothing to talk about. It was back to stiff conversation. I didn’t find him very attractive and got annoyed that I had to come up with things to talk about. I think he could feel it, and after we said goodbye, he sent me a text thanking me for the pancakes. I never heard from him again.

Liquid Inspiration

For many years, wine served as an unofficial writing tool in more ways than one:

Wine, it turns out, was a key ingredient in many recipes for iron gall ink — for all you non-ink nerds, that was the writing ink used by most of the Western world from the Middle Ages all the way up to the 19th century. “Anyone anywhere near famous will have something in iron gall ink,” says , head of the conservation division at the Library of Congress.

A 1297 copy of history’s great political document the Magna Carta was penned in the stuff. Van Gogh drew with it, Da Vinci jotted notes with it, and Bach composed with it. “The practice of adding wine into historic inks was quite widespread,” says chemist , a senior lecturer at University College London who has worked with historic parchments and inks. The chemistry involved can get pretty wonky, but basically, the wine was believed to make the coloring agents in ink more stable. Wine was also considered a purer solvent than water. And iron gall inks were prized because they were so indelible.

(Image by Dr. Manfred Anders, from Wikimedia)

Face Of The Day

Details on an upcoming show at New York’s Bryce Wolkowitz Gallery:

Street artists JR and José Parlá recently teamed up to create enormous and yet very intimate portraits of senior citizens who survived the Cuban Revolution (1953-1959). It’s a continuation of a series called The Wrinkles of the City that JR started in Cartegena, Spain and that was recreated in Shanghai and Los Angeles. This new iteration, based in Havana, Cuba, involved Parlá, who is of Cuban descent. French artist JR created the large portraits while Parlá added depth and beauty using calligraphic writings and color.

Filling The Treasury Vaults With Opium

Sometimes war calls for drastic measures – like hoarding narcotics:

As the U.S. government contemplated entering World War II, it seemed to face a dilemma. How could they acquire and store opium in mass quantities, a raw material that was both subject to international regulations and publicly deemed illicit (thanks to the activities of the [Federal Bureau of Narcotics])? In fact, it turned out to be easy: the FBN simply waived enforcement of the laws private industry had drafted to protect its business interests, and the pharmaceutical companies drew on the traffickers’ networks to provide opium for the government. … The FBN managed to stockpile roughly three years worth of opium by 1941. And as the gold vaults in the Treasury Department were empty at that time, the government decided to use them for storing [3,000,000 pounds of] the illegal narcotic.

It paved the way for the pharmaceutical industry’s stance on illegal drugs today:

The most enduring legacy of opium stockpiling was not the actual material assembled, but a powerful new affiliation between the federal government, specifically the drug enforcement arm, and private pharmaceutical manufacturers like Merck, a company that is still doing a lively business. These bonds would carry over into a postwar world where the line between public and private was (and is) increasingly, lucratively, blurred.

Previous Dish on drug prohibition and Big Pharma here.