The Names and Order of the Seven Heavens

February 23, 2012 – 12:55 am

The theory of Seven Heavens is derived from astrological speculation on the 7 visible regularly moving celestial objects. In the 2nd C BCE the Greeks developed the “Chaldean” order for these objects: Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, which generally replaced the older Babylonian and Egyptian orderings. These objects were assumed to be each in its separate heaven. (D. Merkur, 1993, Gnosis (Albany:SUNY Press) p. 119.) The order and names of the Heavens (and their functions) do not however, seem to reflect this history very well.

In the Jewish tradition, the order and names of the Seven Heavens are given by Rabbi Shimon ben Laqish in Bavli Hagiga 12b (see also Ps. lxviii. 5.) (Refs: Jew. Enc. and R. Graves & R. Patai, 1963, Hebrew Myths, London:Arena, pp. 33ff.)

  1. Wilon [Latin, velum, “curtain”], which is rolled up and down to enable the sun to go in and out; according to Isa. xl. 22, ‘He stretched out the heavens as a curtain’;
  2. Raqi’a [firmament], the place where the sun, moon, and stars are fixed [Gen. i. 17];
  3. She?aqim [clouds/grindstones], in which are the millstones to grind [sha?aq] manna for the righteous (Ps. lxxviii. 23; comp. Midrash Tehillim to Ps. xix. 7
  4. Zebhul [dwelling], the upper Jerusalem, with its Temple, in which Michael offers the sacrifice at the altar [Isa. lxiii. 15; I Kings, viii. 13];
  5. Ma’on [residence], in which dwell the classes of ministering angels who sing by night and are silent by day, for the honor of Israel who serve the Lord in daytime [Deut. xxvi. 15, Ps. xlii. 9];
  6. Makhon [emplacement], in which are the treasuries of snow and hail, the chambers of dew, rain, and mist behind doors of fire [1 Kings, vii. 30; Deut. xxviii. 12];
  7. ‘Arabhoth [plains], where justice and righteousness, the treasures of life and of blessing, the souls of the righteous and the dew of resurrection are to be found. There are the ofanim, the seraphim, and the ?ayyot of holiness, the ministering angels and the throne of glory; and over them is enthroned the great King.

But the functions and contents of these heavens are very different even in different Jewish traditions. See, for example, 2 Enoch 3-9. In any case, it doesn’t seem very obvious how the planetary/cosmological origins are related to the developed functions of these heavens; in fact, the locating of the Sun and Moon in the same sphere (and the stars there too) indicate that the astrological origins were overwhelmed by later elaboration and semantic accretions. The example of 2 Enoch just mentioned suggests that amongst those accretions are the identifications of heavens with stages of ascension and the identification of those stages with degrees on the mystic path of enlightenment.

In the Shii’te Islamic tradition the names of the seven heavens are given in a hadith of Imam Ali (al-Burhan fi-Tafsir al-Qur’an. V. 5. pp. 415.)

  1. Rafi, the lowest heaven
  2. Qaydum
  3. Marum
  4. Arfalun
  5. Hay’oun
  6. Arous
  7. Ajma’

And are these heavens identical to the ‘worlds’ described in the entry on Tazkiyat an-Nafs? I have no idea, but again, they don’t look obviously astrological.

Is Confucianism a Religion?

February 20, 2012 – 8:34 am

Peter Berger in The American Interest (February 15, 2012) asks: ‘Is Confucianism a Religion?’ It’s an old question and Berger himself goes through some of the issues involved – though he does not much consider the many ways that ‘Confucianism’ (ru jia) changed over time, some of which seemed to be much more ‘religious’ than others. His focus is on what we in the West would consider ‘classic’ Confucianism as we interpret it as having existed in the pre-Qin era (Spring-and-Autumn & Warring States). Nor does he properly define what he means by a religion, seeming to take it for granted that any supernatural element is ipso facto a religious element. I regard that as hardly satisfactory, since it would make Neo-Platonism – or even Platonism – a religious movement rather than a philosophical one; and I think that’s certainly debatable.

In any case, having made the obvious (and obviously true) points that Confucianism appears in large part to be a secular system:

 

Its teachings are almost exclusively concerned with behavior in the empirical world: ren “altruism or “human-mindedness”; li —ritual and etiquette; xiao —“filial piety”. These are moral principles that are applied to the so-called “five bonds”  —between ruler and subject, father and son, husband and wife; older and younger brother; friend and friend.

And that:

 

It is quite clear that these virtues (including the behaviors they promoted, as in ritual and etiquette) could be divorced from any specific religious beliefs.

And yet he concludes that it is a religion on the basis that

 

there is one classical and rather central Confucian belief that, I think, is unambiguously religious—that of tian, usually translated as “heaven”. It is not theistic, although gods are associated with it. Rather, it is a cosmic order, supernatural in that it transcends the empirical world, over which it presides and with which it interacts. It thus serves as the necessary, ipso facto religious foundation for all the secular virtues propagated by Confucian teachings.

And since the moral order that Confucianism promotes is justified by appeal to this supernatural entity tian, it follows that the ideology itself is a religious system.

It is certainly true that tian (天) plays a justificatory role in Confucianism, but only incidentally, and far from essentially. In fact, as far as I can tell, the concept is used almost always metaphorically in early Confucian texts. Thus it may be said that a ruler was entitled to rule only so long as he possessed the ‘mandate of Heaven’ (天命, tianmìng), and this was a fairly standard opinion of the time, but the Confucianists do not depend on Heaven to make things turn out the way they ought: they seem always to have other justifications than appealing to the will of Heaven. In the case of the mandate of Heaven, for example, the Mencian version of Confucianism explained that a king could be a king only so long as he behaved as a king. If he failed to behave as a king – i.e. failed to follow the rules and rites and to have the appropriate ren as indicated by the sages of old – then he could not be called a king. The ‘rectification of names’ would name him as the criminal that he was, which would allow his oppressed subjects – who are accordingly not his subjects to rid themselves of this burden. Thus King Hsuan of Ch’i asked of Mencius (1B8):

“Is it permissible for a vassal to murder his lord?”

 

Mencius replied, “One who robs rén you call a ‘robber;’ one who wrecks yì you call a ‘wrecker;’ and one who robs and wrecks you call an ‘outlaw.’ I have heard that [Wu] punished the outlaw Zhou - I have not heard that he murdered his lord.

 But even if tian was, in fact, required to make the moral system of Confucianism work, that would not make Confucianism a religious system. To grasp this point we simply need to compare this with John Locke’s theory of rights and political legitimacy. Locke derives our claim to rights from his conception of Natural Law, which is really identical to Aquinas’s idea of Natural Law: it is a prescription of the way we ought to act, which reflects God’s authority over us, and is something that we can discover for ourselves just because we are human and rational. In these respects then, Locke’s rights’ are much more essentially tied to God than Confucius’s virtues are attached to tian, and nobody thinks to call Locke’s philosophy a religion.

Accidental Features of Apocalypse

February 14, 2012 – 12:12 am

Lists of early apocalyptic writings may be found in DS Russell (1964) Method and Message of Jewish Apocalyptic, London: SCM, pp 37f; C Rowland (1982) The Open Heaven, London: SPCK, p 15. Examples of the genre may be found in J. Charlesworth (ed.) (1983) OTP:1, 2. Of the works typically listed, the Ascension is essentially involved (ie. more than just being noted as the method of revelation) only in:

1, 2, 3 Enoch; 3 Baruch, Testaments of the XII Patriarchs (Levi); Ascension of Isaiah; Apocalypse of Abraham; Testament of Abraham.

There are a number of recurrent features of these texts, apart from those which have been identified as the essential elements of the Ascension plotline.

  1. There is uncertainty about whether the ascent is physical or spiritual.[1]
  2. The heavens are entered by gates or doorways.
  3. There is water in the 1st heaven (sea, snow, clouds, dew).[2]
  4. Rebellious angels are constrained in 2nd heaven.[3]
  5. The protagonist finds ‘paradise’ (in the 3rd heaven.)[4]
  6. There is a great light in the 7th heaven.[5]
  7. Angels are opposed to the ascent of the protagonist.[6]
  8. There are visions of (flaming) thrones, and God sits on one.[7]
  9. The protagonist is transformed (before the theophany)[8]

[1] Cf. dispute over nature of Mohammed’s mi’raj, Paul’s uncertainty in 2 Corinthians, xii, 2-4, etc.

[2] Testament of Levi (from XII Patriarchs), 2 Enoch.

[3] Testament of Levi (from XII Patriarchs), 2 Enoch.

[4] 2 Enoch; Ap. Moses; 2 Corinthians, xii, 2-4.

[5] Ap. Abr., Asc. Isa..

[6] Cf. also Mi’raj of Abu Yazid al-Bistami (in MA Sells (ed.) (1996) Early Islamic Mysticism, NY: Paulist, 242-250.)

[7] This genre is related to merkabah speculation.

[8] Asc. Isa. 7:24-27, 2 Enoch 20-22.

The Necessary Elements of the Ascension Story

February 13, 2012 – 7:12 pm

We can discover the necessary elements of the Ascension story.

  1. By comparison of the various particular texts in which the Ascension plotline occurs.

    1. Take the following to be the primary documents[1]:

      1. Dante, Commedia Divina: Paradiso;
      2. Ibn Ishaq, Sirat rasul Allah; (ibn al-‘Arabi[2], Kitab al-Isra‘; Miraj Nameh)
      3. Ezekiel, 1-11[3], 40 -48;
      4. R. Ishmael, The Apocalypse of Enoch[4];
      5. Anon. ‘The Legend of Etana and the Eagle.’[5]

    2. These supply the following primary plotline elements:

      1. Two principal characters
        1. The prophet
        2. The guide

      2. The guide meets the prophet in an isolated place
      3. The guide and the prophet ascend through heaven (by winged animal, chariot, or ladder)
      4. Heaven is envisaged as arranged in several levels
      5. As each level of heaven is closer to the Godhead than the last, each level represents a ‘higher’ state than the last.
      6. The souls of the dead are encountered.
      7. The prophet interacts with the inhabitants of each level and learns from them what is required to be of that level.
      8. The guide does not progress to the final level.
      9. At the final level the prophet encounters the Ultimate and comes to know the Truth of things.
      10. The prophet returns to the world

  2. By analysis of the ur-form of the Ascension plotline if that can be established.

    1. Shamanic ecstasy.[6]

      1. Shaman goes into a state approximating death (illness, sleep, coma, etc.)
      2. Encounters supernatural creatures
      3. Is teamed with a spirit-guide
      4. Shaman and guide ascend to heaven (he flies, climbs a pole or a tree, …)
      5. They enter heaven, which may be arranged in levels
      6. They tour heaven, possibly by moving through levels
      7. During the Tour (and possibly corresponding to heavenly levels):

        1. The souls of the dead are encountered
        2. The shaman learns important things from the inhabitants of heaven
        3. He faces dangers and initiations

      8. He returns to life

    2. The reported phenomena of mystical enlightenment.[7]

      1. Subject prepares for the meditative state – possibly through ascetic practices or techniques of mind-concentration.
      2. Enters meditative state – an altered state of consciousness.
      3. The states of consciousness are arranged hierarchically
      4. The subject progresses through each state of consciousness by effort resulting in further enlightenment
      5. The final state is one of mystical Union and complete enlightenment
      6. The subject recovers normal consciousness.


       [1] These form a pseudo-stemma of the Ascension plotline in a single broad cultural tradition. That is the Western Asian tradition. That is one of the traditions which lie at the root of the Modern Western European literary culture; therefore they are appropriate guides to a literary work that is a part of that culture. There are, of course, a vast number of secondary documents, which lack the cultural prominence of the primary documents, but which are not for that reason less reliable indicators of the fundamental plotline.

      [2] Dante’s direct debt to al Shaykh al Akhbar is argued for in M. Asin Palacios (1925) (tr. Sunderland) Islam and the Divine Comedy, New Delhi: Goodword.

      [3] Ma‘aseh Merkabah – ‘The Story of the Chariot’ (Mishnah Hagigah 2:1, ref. in Merkur, D. (1993) Gnosis: An Esoteric Tradition of Mystical Visions and Unions, Albany: SUNY, p. 155.)

      [4] Sefer Hekhalot – ‘The book of the Palace’. Source: P. Alexander (tr., ed.) in Charlesworth, J. H. (1983) The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha: Vol. 1, Apocalyptic Literature and Testaments, London: Darton, Longman & Todd. See also the other Enoch stories (1 & 2). (cf. also the tale of Enmeduranki [‘Prince of the me of the bond of Heaven and Earth’] who is often associated with Enoch.)

      [5] ANET p. 118. Assuming it is a related tale, it is by far the most primitive version. (Unfortunately we seem to lack evidence of a chain of transmission from it to the monotheist versions, unless the stories of Nimrod and Alexander (pseudo-Callisthenes) can play that role.)

      [6] The Ascension plotline is derived from the experiences of shamans in the older religion. Eliade, M. (1964) Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, Harmondsworth: Arkana.

      Note that many proposed templates combine the two related but narratively separable traditions of ascent and descent. The consensus of our culture is that the tour of heaven and the harrowing of hell are best kept separated. I also choose to consider the theme of organ removal and replacement as separable from the ascension theme: it seems to be specifically initiatory.

      [7] Many sources are available. Chiefly refer to the studies of mystical experiences in the following traditions: Buddhist (Buddhaghosa, Vasubandhu); Jewish (Merkabah, Hekhalot); Islamic (Sufi); Christian.

      The shamanic experience is essentially the ancestor of the supposedly more sophisticated mystical experience. The apparent difference between the two arises from the conceptual background within which the psychological experience is interpreted. The relationship is complex: the shamanic experience gives rise to mythological expression, which affects the way that future experiences are conceptualised. Through mythology, too, the shamanic ecstatic experience becomes a cultural and therefore a psychological form, so that relevantly similar mystical experiences become assimilated to it. These experiences also give rise to further elaborations of literary expression, which in turn affect the way that mystical experiences can be felt.

A Puzzle about Spirit Opposition in Later Ascension Plotlines

February 12, 2012 – 11:53 pm

In the ascension stories of the developed religions we very often find that the progress of the protagonist and his guide is impeded at each heaven by spirits determined to test his worthiness. For example, in Bistami’s mi’raj at the First Heaven:

[H]e continued to show me dominion that would wear out the tongue to describe and depict. I knew that he was testing me with it in that. I was saying: My goal is other than what you are showing me.

And by rejecting this temptation and passing the test he is allowed to pass on. Similar tests occur at each succeeding Heaven. (Al-Qasd ila Allah ch. 9. Extract in M. Sells (ed.) (1996) Early Islamic Mysticism, NY: Paulist Press) pp. 242 ff.)

In the Third (Hebrew) Book of Enoch (6:2) the challenges that Metatron recollects in his narrative to Rabbi Ishmael are more pointed still:

As soon as I reached the heavenly heights, the holy creatures, the ophanim, the seraphim, the cherubim, the wheels of the chariot and the ministers of consuming fire, smelled my odor 365,000 myriads of parasangs off; they said, “What is this smell of one born of a woman? Why does a white drop ascend on high and serve among those who cleave the flames?”

But he manages to make the passage here and elsewhere. (J. Charlesworth (ed.) (1983) The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha: Apocalyptic Literature and Testaments (London: Longmans) pp. 223 ff. (tr. P. Alexander))

Finally, let us note Dante’s rather gentler approach to this in his Paradiso, where the quality that is required for advancement is made plain to Dante by the mediation of Beatrice and in response to questions that he poses to the celestial population when their presence at that point challenges his beliefs or assumptions.

My problem with this is that, assuming that the ascension plotline is an adaptation of the shamanistic visionary trance – which seems to be widely accepted – where is the model for this spiritual opposition? It is standard that in the ascent the souls of the dead are encountered and the shaman learns important things from the inhabitants of Heaven, and he faces danger; but does the danger come in the form of opposition from the Heavenly inhabitants? I have not had time to read the entirety of the reports in Eliades’s Shamanism, but they do generally seem to lack a root for that theme. To pick one at random, here is part of the report of a Dolgan shamanic séance from U. Harva, (1935) Die religioesen Vorstellungen der altaische Voelker, Helsinki, p. 549 (Eliade, p. 233:)

For the Dolgan shamans likewise scale the nine heavens in performing a cure. According to them, before each new heaven there are guardians whose office is to watch over the shaman’s journey and at the same time to prevent the evil spirits from mounting.

So, my question is whether this nearly standard addition to the shamanic version of the ascension plotline is no more than a narrative device that has found favour. Or if it is more than that, what is its source. Is it perhaps a reflection of the difficulty of non-shamanic mystics in achieving the kind of naïve ecstasy that overcomes the barriers between this world and the various heavens?

Ethical Consequences of the Gnostic Union

February 5, 2012 – 3:30 pm

There’s always the assumption that mystical gnosis will result in an elevated ethical state on the part of the gnostic. Given that there’s plenty of controversy over the ethical stance of someone who is concerned above all with their own salvation, I find this lazy acceptance a little puzzling. It’s easy enough, in fact, to see just how the unitive life can run the risk of moral detachment from humankind. Since at the moment I’m reading R. A. Nicholson 1914/1963) The Mystics of Islam, we can extract a few typical statements of the Sufi and see what they add up to.

First, here’s a passage from p. 109 recounting a story from the life of Fudayl ibn ‘Iyad

One day he had in his lap a child four years old, and chanced to give it a kiss, as is the way of fathers. The child said, ‘Father, do you love me?’ ‘Yes,’ said Fudayl. ‘Do you love God?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘How many hearts have you?’ ‘One.’ ‘Then,’ asked the child, ‘how can you love two with one heart?’ Fudayl perceived that the child’s words were a divine admonition. In his zeal for God he began to beat his head and repented of his love for the child, and gave his heart wholly to God.

This is introduced by the remark that “It would be touching if it were not so edifying.” I find it neither, but rather chilling. We then learn, amongst many claims that we should approach all in the spirit of ‘love’ and ‘charity,’ this corroborating quote from Jami:

Even from earthly love thy face avert not,
Since to the Real it may serve to raise thee.
Ere A, B, C are rightly apprehended,
How canst thou con the pages of thy Koran?
A sage (so heard I), unto whom a student
Came craving counsel on the course before him,
Said, ‘If thy steps be strangers to love’s pathways,
Depart, learn love, and then return before me!
For, shouldst thou fear to drink wine from Form’s flagon,
Thou canst not drain the draught of the Ideal.
But yet beware! Be not by Form belated:
Strive rather with all speed the bridge to traverse.
If to the bourne thou fain wouldst bear thy baggage,
Upon the bridge let not thy footsteps linger.’

But the only interpretation of this can be that love is to be valued not as respecting the worth of the thing being loved, but only as a path to the only real object of the Sufi’s esteem, which is God. This makes it a consequentialist approach only – but one which requires that you pretend to be unaware of the consequentialist justification for the love that you are determined to feel.

Nicholson then remarks, with words that must be true for anyone committed to the extreme unity thesis that the Sufis defended (or, rather, that they mouthed adherence to,) that

Inevitably such a man will love his fellow-men. Whatever cruelty they inflict upon him, he will perceive only the chastening hand of God, “whose bitters are very sweets to the soul.”

And the consequence of this would have to be that any evils that the Sufi does to another ought equally to be seen by that other as “the chastening hand of God,” and this will be especially the case when the Sufi presumes to have achieved the sought-after Union with God, and to be able to declare with al-Hallaj that “I am the Truth.” The man who takes these moral consequences seriously would be a monster of egotism, not a saint.

Remnants of the Great Bear Cult in Punxsutawney

February 4, 2012 – 10:51 pm

I’ve just read a brief article about Punxsutawney Phil by Stephanie Pappas at the LiveScience site. She mentions that:

relying on rodents as forecasters may date back to the early days of Christianity in Europe, when clear skies on Candlemas Day (Feb. 2) were said to herald cold weather ahead. In Germany, the tradition morphed into a myth that if the sun came out on Candlemas, a hedgehog would cast its shadow, predicting snow all the way into May. When German immigrants settled in Pennsylvania, they transferred the tradition onto local fauna, replacing hedgehogs with groundhogs.

Actually, I have heard that the tradition goes back considerably further than indicated there. Rhys Carpenter in his (1958) book on ‘Folk Tale, Fiction and Saga in the Homeric Epics’ (pp. 152-5) traces the custom to the ancient Bear cult of Europe, via the myth of Salmoxis, which read great significance into the resurrection of that hibernating animal from his long Winter sleep. All trace of the human sacrifice that was originally involved has happily disappeared, and the shamanic pretensions of travel to the underworld with the bear spirit have gone with it, but some small remnants of the cult remain.

In Silesia, Hungary, and Carinthia the feast of Candlemas [Feb. 2 – six weeks from the Winter solstice] is still bear’s-day in popular observance; and on that precise day (it is maintained) the hibernating bear emerges to see whether or not he casts a shadow: if he sees his shadow he must retire again for six more weeks of winter.

[I]f we will think back all the way to the Arcadian bear cult on Mount Lykaion and remember that in that hallowed precinct the bear lost his shadow, because the shadow is the soul and the living being which descends into the underworld of death must leave its soul down there … we shall understand that the bear emerging from his deathlike winter sleep, having lain as one dead, must have left his shadow behind him. If he has not done so, if an accusing shadow moves besides him in the wan springtime sunlight, he has not truly been among the dead and he must go back and properly sleep his winter sleep of the full six weeks before he can finally emerge again to announce the rebirth of the world and the imminence of the springtide.

The adherents of the bear cult transferred their attention to other animals when bears became scarce. In Germany the humble badger took the honours, and when Germans moved to America they gave the part to the friendly little Groundhog – who inspires no awe or terror of the otherworld.

Does Mars have Value?

February 4, 2012 – 7:17 pm


“Assuming that terraforming Mars would work, would doing so violate a moral obligation to leave Mars and other worlds alone?” The question is asked by Bailey (“Does Mars Have Rights” Reason, Feb. 2012) The question of moral rights for rocks can be addressed by reference to any appropriate ethical theory, but one version of this – which I recall hearing at a seminar once, and I’ve read repeatedly, is that (unspoiled) Mars has an intrinsic value that should weigh in our moral calculations when considering terraforming. It’s the sort of claim that is often made for the preservation of more mundane wilderness areas which are supposed to have some intrinsic value that trumps the value that their development would have. The proponents of such views rarely explain what kind of thing value is, how these objects get their value, whether these values are in fact morally weighty, or how weighty they are. It’s an open question in value theory whether all values are commensurable, whether they are all independent, and so on. Until these questions are answered we can’t even tell whether accepting the claim of intrinsic value for Mars would have the claimed consequences for action wrt Mars; I think, however, that the common sense view of values indicates that it would not.

Consider the most basic statements regarding values (easiest to understand, most likely to be accepted by competent language users, etc. ) It’s easy enough to grasp what is meant when we say that we value something, or that something has value for us. If I say that I value a beautiful object – say, Botticelli’s Venus – then I mean that I prefer that object to other comparable objects, say the painting of dogs playing poker or the green lady behind a tree. ‘Preference’ can be defined operationally in whatever way seems reasonable. In general, to say that something, X, has a value for some agent, A, is to say that there is a quality or property of X that features in A’s preference assignments in a certain way. If X has an appropriate property or quality, say Q, then X will be given a positive value by A; meaning that, other things being equal, A will prefer X with Q to something without Q. To say this is not to say that the quality or property possessed by X is a value, it is rather to say that there is a particular way A has of assigning preferences that references those properties and qualities rather than others. In the example given, our valuation might be affected by the colour balance of the painting, but ‘colour balance’ doesn’t have to be a value, it only has to be valued or to contribute to a valuation in certain circumstances. (Nevertheless, the common way of speaking often will make these properties and qualities ‘values.’)

In other circumstances we can also say that something, X, has a value, tout court. But this lacks the relativisation to any valuer and thus is divorced from the process of preference assignment that is fundamental to the explanation of something having value for an agent.  We can restore the relativisation if we take such a statement to mean that for any A that we take to be a relevant agent, X has a value for A. So I can say that the beautiful object – say, Botticelli’s Venus – has (positive) aesthetic value: but by this I mean that this painting is valuable for everyone whom I regard as being a relevant valuer of the painting. (It might be that I would exclude philistines or imbeciles or other categories of presumptively ‘defective’ valuer; or I might take the attitude that my class of relevant agents is restricted to a small list of those who know. Those are details that needn’t detain us.)

Understanding ‘X has value’ in that way has at least two other advantages: first, it is plausibly the natural way that we would come to express the idea that something has a value for any relevant A; and second, any alternative would seem to involve connecting two different meanings under the single verb ‘value.’ At the very least, the onus would be on those rejecting the proposed interpretation to show the advantages of their alternative.  

Assuming that this is the right way to think of valuing things, or of things having value, it is equally reasonable to suppose that there are different kinds of value. Nothing in the nature of preference requires that there is only one source of preference rankings, however much the prudentialists and moralists and rational actors might wish it to be otherwise. We value things for their beauty, or for their sentimental value, or for their utility, or for their contribution to the advance of projects that we love, or for any of a vast number of other reasons – and there is nothing, prima facie, to indicate that they are all versions of the same value. Now some of these ‘valued’ qualities are pretty straightforward, and the way that they feature is no great mystery – for example, things which contribute to my own well-being are going to have value insofar as I have a preference for pursuing my own self-interest. Other things, like beauty, are a little more puzzling. But the source of the value – the reason why and the manner in which it features in those preference assignments – doesn’t affect the fact of the thing having value.

Thus, on our story, there are as many values – aesthetic values, moral values, social values, alethic value, etc.  – as there are different ways of assigning preferences to things in the world, and that these different ways reference different sets of properties and qualities. In fact, more than just arguing that this should be the default position, I would argue that if we take preference assignment to be anything but a purely rational function, then we make it a part of our sentimental nature, and thus a part of nature subject to contingent evolutionary, cultural, historical, and biological forces, and therefore almost certainly pluralistic in nature.

In any case, the naïve story of value, the story which is the interpretation of least resistance, indicates that unless a thing, like Mars, has a moral value – yet to be established – it cannot be claimed that there are moral claims inherent in the thing itself; and it cannot be said that just because one valuer finds value in a thing that all must find the same value; and it can’t be claimed that just because it is accepted that a thing has value, that that necessarily has moral consequences. (In all of this I’m ignoring the question of respect for the things that others value for whatever reason.)

Principal Figures in the Development of Sufism

January 31, 2012 – 12:44 am

 

Person

Uwais Qarni (ob. 657 AD)

 

 

Texts

 

-

 

 

Themes

 

Awareness of Muhammad’s spiritual presence

‘Uwaisi’ transmission of barakah

 

Person

Rabi’a al-Basri (717-801 AD)

 

 

Texts

 

-

 

 

Themes

 

Post-asceticism

Love mysticism and mystical union

Beginning of Sufism and its methodology of illumination

 

Person

Harith al-Muhasibi al-Basri (781-857 AD)

 

 

Texts

 

Ri’yala li-Huquq Allah [Method of Religious Observance]

 

 

Themes

 

First analysis of the interior life

 

Person

Dhu’l-Nun al-Misri (796-859)

 

 

Texts

 

-

 

 

Themes

 

Introduced ma’rifa [gnosis]

Read hieroglyphs

 

Person

Abu Yazid (Bayazid) al-Bistami (ob. 874/877/878)

 

 

Texts

 

-

 

 

Themes

 

‘Intoxication’

Ejaculations [shathiyyat] (e.g. “subhani” [“Glory to me!”])

Doctrine of fana’ [annihilation] and baqa [continuance]

Ascended to the Throne of God

 

Person

Hasan al-Basri (830-910)

 

 

Texts

 

-

 

 

Themes

 

‘Sobriety’

Theory of Union

Features in the silsilah ofmany orders

 

Person

Junayd Baghdadi (830-910)

 

 

Texts

 

Kitabu’l-Fana’ [Book of the Annihilation in God]

 

 

Themes

 

‘Sobriety’

Theory of Union

Features in the silsilah ofmany orders

 

Person

Mansur al-Hallaj  (c. 858-922 AD)

 

 

Texts

 

Kitabu’l-Tawasin

 

 

Themes

 

Ecstatic (e.g. “ana’l-Haqq” [“I am the Truth!”])

God is Love

Foundations laid for Doctrine of Perfect Man (ibn ‘Arabi)

Student of Junayd

Martyred

 

Person

Abu Nasr al-Sarraj al-Tusi

 

 

Texts

 

Kitabu’l-Luma’

 

 

Themes

 

First systematic general works on Sufism

 

Person

Abu Talib al-Makki (ob. 996)

 

 

Texts

 

Qutu’l-Qulub [Nourishment of the Heart]

 

 

Themes

 

First systematic general works on Sufism

Sufism begins to become pantheistic and antinomian. Influence of Greeks?

 

Person

Abu Sa’id abu’l-Khayr (967-1049)

 

 

Texts

 

-

 

 

Themes

 

Love poems as a genre of Sufi writing

Law is for the lower stages of the path: forbade the Haj to his students

 

Person

Ali Hujwiri (c. 990-1077)

 

 

Texts

 

Kashfu’l-Mahjub [Revelation of the Veiled]

 

 

Themes

 

Complained about doctrinal disorder in Sufism

 

Person

Abu ‘l Qasim al-Qushayri (986-1074)

 

 

Texts

 

Risala [Epistle]

 

 

Themes

 

Delivered an early classic of Sufi practice

 

Person

Abu Hamid Ghazali (1058-1111)

 

 

Texts

 

Ihya’ ‘ulumu’l-Din [Renewal of the Religious Sciences]

Kimiya-yi Sa’adat [The Alchemy of Happiness]

Mishkatu’i-Anwar [The Niche of Lights]

 

 

Themes

 

The reunification of Sufism and Islamic orthodoxy

Revelations of saints supplement those of the prophets

Influences from Athens and Alexandria become overwhelming

Pantheism replaces the ‘interpersonal’ relation to Allah

‘Monastic’ institutions of Sufi orders form

 

Person

Muhyi’ddin Ibnu’l-‘Arabi (1165-1240)

 

 

Texts

 

Futuhat al-Makkiyya [Meccan Revelations]

Fususu’l-Hikam [Bezels of Wisdom]

Tarjumanu’l-Ashwaq[Interpreter of Desires]

 

 

Themes

 

wahdatu’l-wujud” [“Unity of Existence”]

World is aspect of God, and in Man God becomes conscious of Himself

Al-Insan al-Kamil [The Perfect Man]

Met three times with Khidr

Return of personal, experiential focus in Persian Sufism

 

Person

Umar Ibnu’l-Farid (1181-1235)

 

 

Texts

 

Nazm al-suluk [The Sufi Way]

 

 

Themes

 

A mystic poet for the Arabs

 

Person

Sana’i Ghaznavi (ob. 1131)

 

 

Texts

 

Hadiqatu’l-Haqiqa [Garden of Truth]

 

 

Themes

 

First Persian mystical epic of Sufism

 

Person

Faridu’ddin ‘Attar (1145/6-1221)

 

 

Texts

 

Mantiqu’l-Tayr [Parliament of Fowles]

Tadhkiratu’l-Awliyah [Memorial of the Saints]

 

 

Themes

 

Poet

 

Person

Sa’di

 

 

Texts

 

Bostan [Orchard]

Gulistan [Rose Garden]

 

 

Themes

 

Poet

 

Person

Jalalu’ddin Rumi (1207-1273)

 

 

Texts

 

Mathnawi- Ma’nawi [Spiritual Couplets]

Diwan-e Shams-e Tabrizi [Works of S-e T]

Fihi Ma Fihi [In It What Is In It]

 

 

Themes

 

Poet

An ascetic after meeting dervish Shams-e Tabrizi

Founder of Maulawi / Mevlevi dervishes

 

Person

Hafez-e Shirazi (1325/1326–1389/1390)

 

 

Texts

 

Diwan [Works]

 

 

Themes

 

Poet

 

Person

Nur ad-Din Abd ar-Rahman Jami (1414–1492)

 

 

Texts

 

Diwan [Collection]

Haft Awrang [Seven Thrones]

 

 

Themes

 

Poet

Distinguished ‘prophetic’ and ‘mystic’ Sufis

A Note on a Second Doctrine of Worlds

January 25, 2012 – 11:55 pm

The Koran can be used to support the claim that there are multiple worlds - but only if we take the language extremely literally (e.g at [1:1],) and it gives no real indication of how these worlds should be understood. There are several distinct cosmologies that have currency in different branches of Islamic thought; the cosmology inherent in the chart of the tazkiyat an nafs is just one of them. There is also a ‘gnostic’ cosmology that is also included in the Sufi manuals but seems to fit only uneasily into the other cosmological views. It seems, however, that Sufis were urged to at least to bear in mind this version of the progression of the soul through the various worlds. In essence it is simple enough: the aspiring gnostic travels by means of the bridges from lower to higher worlds - but I cannot find how it was made consistent with the ‘seven stages’ cosmology given earlier. A very rough outline of the shape of the gnostic universe can be seen in this chart below.

‘Alam (World)

Mode of Transition

Nafs (Soul)  
       
Lahut (Divine)

 

Haqiqat (Truth)

   
  GodheadImperceptible, as all is OneCreative Imperative* Ammara  
Jabarut (Dynamic)    

 

Tariqah (Path)

 

 

Celestial worldPerceived through becoming part of God’s natureIntelligence* Lawwama  
Malakut (Angelic)    

 

Shari’ah (Law)

 

 

Spiritual worldPerceived through insight Soul* Mutma’inna  
Nasut (Human)    
  Physical worldPerceived through the senses       

* From an extract of Tanzih al-Awliya by Shaikh Abu’l-Qasim Khan Ibrahimi in Corbin op. cit. p. 240 ff.

This is mostly a diagram of information from J. Trimingham, The Sufi Orders in Islam (OUP, 1971) pp.159ff but it is very difficult to discover anything further on the matter. And what one does find is often contradictory. The information diagrammed is referred to Isma’il ibn M. Sa’id (ed.) Al-Fuyadat ar-Rabbaniyya, Cairo: 1354/1935 quoting ‘Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani, but the same pages of Trimingham describe a version in which shari’a is the path followed in Nasut, tariqah is the path by which one reaches Malakut, Ma’rifa (Gnosis) is the path by which one reaches Jabarut, and one then falls into the state Fana’or ‘Alam al Ghaib (Mystery.) According to H. Corbin Spiritual Body and Celestial Earth (NJ: Bollingen (PUP), 1977) p. 59 the schema according to Suhrawardi consisted of just three worlds, the highest of which was Jabarut, taken to be the celestial Earth Hurqalya. The next higher world (here, Lahut) is introduced by the Shaikhites, recapitulating a speculation of ibn ‘Arabi (p. 59.)

The ‘Worlds’ above do feature very prominently in Shi’ite ‘Imamology’, a structural homologue in Shi’ite gnosticism to the Christology of the Christian gnostics. To speak much too briefly, the worlds are a feature of a cosmology that creates the grounds for the possibility of earthly imams. How this can be of any significance to Sufic doctrine or practice remains a mystery to me, though the commonality of inspiration and initiation and ‘wilayat’ in the two branches of Islamic mysticism must be involved.