Hitting the target, we learned in infantry school,
depended on the mortar’s second shot
placed on the target’s far side
if our first shot fell short,
the near side if long.
That bracket completed,
we could fire for effect.
But all our attempts to aim for you
fall wide of the target.
Creator of the sun and other stars,
you have no far side.
Creator, who made us in your image,
you are so close as to have
no near side.
Infinite, ineffable—
we try to zero in with negatives
that resist bracketing.
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I have been reading and trying to understand some philosophical articles online, especially those zeroing in on consciousness and how it may precede all else. With quantum field theory in physics, science has seemed less certain, with fewer definite answers, and even more theories. Consciousness may be another word for God and vice versa. It’s all wilder than we can imagine. Meditation and some theorizing of science and of philosophy may all be moving toward the same goal.
Dear Mr. Lein,
I thank you for sharing your reflection that my poem generated. I cannot follow you very far down the path of articles about consciousness or quantum field theory as I have done little reading in those areas. You say that consciousness is another word for God. The basis of my poem is that all attempts to name God fall short or long, to continue my mortar metaphor. After all, whatever we say about God is an analogy with something human, something we have experienced. The poem suggests that God transcends all our analogies, all our claims about God, including those about what God has willed, is willing, and may will.
However, I do appreciate the consciousness analogy. Max Planck wrote, “I regard consciousness as fundamental. I regard matter as derivative from consciousness. We cannot get behind consciousness. Everything that we talk about, everything that we regard as existing, postulates consciousness.” Planck seems to suggest that the order that he and other scientists have realized as the basis of the work they do is not a random accident, not a matter of electro-chemical stimulus and reaction.
Then he comes up short. I point this out not by way of debate, but by way of dialogue. He recognizes that he has left out something essential–himself, ourselves. “Science cannot solve the ultimate mystery of nature. And that is because, in the last analysis, we ourselves are a part of the mystery that we are trying to solve.” The consciousness that he has come to recognize and to which he has given the name God is a deterministic consciousness, one that wills a rigid order. “This is one of man’s oldest riddles. How can the independence of human volition be harmonized with the fact that we are integral parts of a universe which is subject to the rigid order of nature’s laws?” After all, “The assumption of an absolute determinism is the essential foundation of every scientific enquiry.”
I suggest that it might be possible to get behind consciousness to some extent, or perhaps a better metaphor is to get inside consciousness. I have found John Henry Newman’s insights illuminating. He confronted a far less rigorous skepticism than what now seems almost a given. How are we able to act freely in a world that many of our leading thinkers say is “subject to the rigid order of nature’s laws”? How do we have confidence⎯at least a reasonable degree of confidence⎯in our actions as free, intelligible, reasonable, and responsible actions? I recommend Newman’s Oxford Sermons as a fruitful place to begin to explore the question.
I also recommend the thought of Michael Polanyi, especially his Personal Knowledge.
The basic image of Planck’s analogy was not consciousness, but what he was conscious of⎯the rigid order of the universe from a scientific perspective. Newman and Polanyi have used different basis⎯human actions.
I thank you for this opportunity to explore a little more in depth some of the thoughts and experiences from which my poem emerged.
Sincerely,
John