This song is somehow perfect. Just something about it…
This song is somehow perfect. Just something about it…
Everything, everywhere, always, changes.
Everything, everywhere, always, ends.
You can hold tight, but time is a grease;
and Heraclitus never stands in the same river twice.
It’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.
So give thanks for today.
“The luminous dusk, the unspent, dark cloud of God’s glory, lies beyond a door that is buried, in the words of Teresa of Avila, ‘in the extreme interior, in some very deep place within.’ Although only God’s grace can open the door, we can at least do our best to stand before the doorway. We do this by temporarily abandoning, during prayer and meditation, the world of the five senses, by declining to look at or listen to or think about the things around us. Darkness and stillness then become our collaborators, helping us to drag our attention away from this world of divertissement to the numinous world that hold the neglected fountain of divine light. The testimony of the saints is that this fountain, although hidden, can be found, or rather revealed, and that, when this happens, we are remade – and then sent back into the everyday, material world to do our mundane tasks with renewed life. Is this not the one great end to which we, on behalf of the whole world, should direct all our prayers?”
-Dale Allison, the Luminous Dusk
“The human mind, however precious, is an oasis of knowledge in a desert of ignorance that extends infinitely in all directions. And this is to speak only of the world of space and time. If there is a divine reality beyond or behind this one, our knowledge of it must be even more circumscribed.
I find it helpful in this connection to think about my dog Ralph, who is more German Shepherd than anything else. Ralph knows that his food is kept in a large bag in the kitchen cabinet, and also that when I go to that cabinet with his dog bowl in hand, he is about to enjoy a meal. That is why he then barks with excitement. Ralph further knows that rubbing his large paws and whiskered nose against the cabinet in my presence communicates hunger, and that turning over his empty water bowl will get it filled immediately. Regarding his food and water, then, Ralph can think well enough.
There is, however, a fixed limit to his understanding. He does not know that bags of dog food come from a grocery store, a thing for which he has no concept. He does not know that a store has products because there are trucking lines. And he knows nothing about the agricultural operations or the manufacturing processes that result in bags of food. Such knowledge is too high for him; he cannot attain it.
These are things, moreover, that he can never understand. I could spend every waking hour trying to instruct him about the long chain of events that puts dog food in the kitchen cabinet. But it would all be in vain, for his mind is constricted. Beyond a knowledge of certain facts about the cabinet and his bowl, there is only fog. His mind runs out….
In some respects we remain forever like the dogs. So even if I do not understand exactly what I am doing – or, rather, what God is doing – when I pray, I shall continue to pray. I shall continue to ask for the good things, for myself and others. Petitioning the Deity is too much a part of the tradition I love and trust for me to pluck it out and throw it away. I moreover take some comfort in the knowledge that such petitioning is an almost inescapable activity of human beings. Surveys tell us that even most atheists pray to God for help once in a while. To pray is to be human. Why then should I deny my nature, especially when I believe that God fashioned it? I see no reason to disobey the invitation of the liturgist: ‘Let us pray.’”
- Dale Allison, The Luminous Dusk
“If there is indeed an instinct to emulate what appears before us, then at present we must be emulating celebrities. Observation confirms the inference. Celebrities are trendsetters. Who first models our hairstyles? Our skirt lengths? Our eyewear? Now this is not itself objectionable. Nor do I protest that so many celebreities, stained by riotous living, are decadent, unworthy of emulation. The problem is more fundamental. It is that celebrities are not heroes – that is, they are, even when upright, too small to do us any good. Celebrities are, as their numbers necessitate, average people. This is why their sins – extramarital affairs, multiple divorces, drinking binges – are so humdrum. They are just like us. But to look at ourselves is to emulate ourselves, which means giving up ‘ought’ for ‘is.’ To look in a mirror does not expand one’s horizons. We need rather to dream, which is what heroes and poets, not celebrities, make us do.
Christopher Lasch is right: celebrities are welcome in the culture of narcissism because the narcissistic individual lacks the courage and imagination to change the self into the not-self; and whereas this is precisely the helpful demand implicitly made by traditional heroes, celebrities are not imperatives. With them there are no surprises, and we can be ourselves – a frightful notion, if one is honest. Celebrities do not encourage the humble thing, which is the reasonable thing: finding our lives by losing them. As Meister Eckhart observed, ‘Those who would be what they ought to be must stop being what they are.’
Where is the sanity in attending to the ordinary when the imperatives upon us – ‘Go the extra mile,’ ‘Do not let the left hand know what the right hand is doing,’ Be perfect in love, even as the heavenly Father is perfect’ – are so extraordinary? The chief objection to Jesus’ moral injunctions has always been that they are too difficult: the Kingdom of God is Utopia. As the Jew in Justin Martyr’s Dialogue with Trypho remarked, the Gospel teachings are ‘so wonderful and so great that I suspect no one can keep them.’
Leaving for another occasion defense of Jesus’ ever-receding moral ideal, one thing is evident: the pious require models of old-fashioned heroic proportion, and narratives that reveal the possibilities and obligations of being ‘in the law of Christ.’ If democracy, historical criticism, the hermeneutics of suspicion, an exaggerated belief in progress, our doubts about the value of adventure, and the incessant distractions of the mass media take these things from us, then the game is up – we have lost our souls. These dragons that have captured our heroes must be either tamed or slain, so that our moral imaginations can, once again, be pressed down, shaken together, and running over.
Hebrews 11 says this: ‘They conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, received promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched raging fire, escaped the edge of the sword, won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight.’ We should, against the modern habit, hold these for memories, that they might hold us. Our amnesia should not be for heroes, whose virtues are our sunlight, but for their modern usurpers, who represent the ordinary condition of humanity, which so obviously tends toward sin and sloth and mediocrity. Celebrities do not conquer kingdoms, enforce justice, receive promises, stop the mouths of lions, quench raging fires, escape the edge of the sword, win strength out of weakness, become mighty in war, put enemies to flight. Why exchange gold for pyrite?”
- Dale Allison, The Luminous Dusk
“Our kingdom go” is the necessary and unavoidable corollary of “Thy kingdom come.” For the more there is of self, the less there is of God. The divine eternal fulness of life can be gained only by those who have deliberately lost the partial, separative life of craving and self-interest, of egocentric thinking, feeling, wishing, and acting. Mortification or deliberate dying to self is inculcated with an uncompromising firmness in the canonical writings of Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism and most of the other major and minor religions of the world, and by every theocentric saint and spiritual reformer who has ever lived out and expounded the principles of the Perennial Philosophy. But this “self-naughting” is never (at least by anyone who knows what he is talking about) regarded as an end in itself. It possesses merely an instrumental value, as the indispensable means to something else.
- Aldous Huxley, The Perennial Philosophy
“Let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ be ‘No.’ Anything more than these is from the evil one.”
Because this is what happens when you don’t tell the truth…
So last year I got into reading a little positive psychology…the art of how to be happy. Read a few books (like this one), browed a bunch of blog posts (like this one), watched a few documentaries, thought about it quite a bit. Some of it is pure BS. Some of it isn’t. But it was an interesting little phase of thought that I’m not sure I’m out of yet.
One of the pieces of the positive psychology research surrounds cultivating gratefulness. Learning to count your blessings, see silver linings, and ultimately alter your day to day, minute to minute, perception of life, from focusing on negatives to focusing on positives.
I think this is one of the aspects of positive psychology that isn’t BS.
I have a ridiculous amount of things to be grateful for, but I would say my default setting, the way my mind naturally works, is to focus on the negative aspects of my life. I’ve always thought like a pessimist, and I have a tendency to see the problems in my life as all-encompassing. Like my whole life is one big problem. When I get to thinking that way I’m miserable and sad. It sucks. So I’m trying to stop that.
One of the ways that you can supposedly do that is to set aside specific times to count your blessings. Literally list them off, maybe out loud, maybe on paper, maybe in your mind. I have been trying to list 10 things I’m grateful for in the morning and 10 things before bed. I usually forget to do it before bed. But I’m trying. So I’m going to take a little time right now and list off some things that I am grateful for. Things that I take for granted but are awesome. Things that I should consider blessings from God.
1. I have hot water in the morning. Every morning. I can rub it on my body.
2. I have a shelter that keeps me warm in the winter and cool in the summer.
3. I have a bunch of really good friends who sometimes bake me things and always make me laugh.
4. My mom and dad love me.
5. I have a mom and dad that I actually know.
6. My brother and sister in law are awesome people.
7. I ate Chipotle yesterday. I can eat Chipotle whenever I want. And I can get chips.
8. Happy hours exist. I can get beer there.
9. I get summers off to do whatever the heck I want. Like go to happy hours.
10. I can run around and play basketball. My quickness makes up for a poor 3 point shot.
11. I was able to afford to go to college and I went to an awesome college.
12. I have a sexy Honda Civic.
13. I will probably never be hungry for an extended time unless it’s by choice.
14. My grandma sends me fudge on Valentine’s Day. Tasty tasty fudge.
15. I go to an awesome church.
16. I had a chance to talk to a kid about his credit situation and graduating high school today. Maybe it made a difference.
17. I have meaningful employment.
18. Dogs exist and are bearers of unconditional love.
19. The sun is out and it shines on me. It makes my face warm and releases endorphins in my brain.
20. I have really good neighbors.
21. Apples grow on trees and we can eat them. And we can genetically engineer Honeycrisps.
22. I have leisure time to read mind-bending literature.
23. I have my choice in what to do with the rest of my life.
24. I have a wide variety of teas to brew at will.
25. I’m going to go make some tea right now.
Twenty-five seems like a good place to stop. I want to cultivate gratefulness. It doesn’t mean I’ll never be sad. It doesn’t mean that I won’t have days where my whole life seems like a problem. But it helps. It helps me fulfill the mission of loving people. Because getting lost in your own crap makes you depressed and self-centered, unable to care about anything but you. Living a grateful life opens me up to loving, serving, and building up others. And that, I have decided, is what it’s all about.
Used this TED video in class the other day. The whole thing might be a little bit overdone, but still…take a look. And cultivate gratfulness…
Today someone was hit by a car. The car drove away and the person died.
Today someone’s child was shot in a park. It was a stray bullet. They rushed him to the hospital, but the child didn’t make it.
Today someone is taking care of her husband who doesn’t recognize her because of Alzheimer’s. She will take care of him for 20 more years, and he will never again know who she is.
Today someone watched their child starve to death. Literally, they watched the child as he died because there wasn’t enough food for everyone in the village to survive.
Today someone put a gun to their head because they felt unloved.
Today a turtle got run over on the road.
Today someone was beaten by their spouse.
Today someone committed adultery. His wife knows but lives with it because she doesn’t want to be alone.
Today someone was asked for a divorce.
Today someone made the decision to let his child grow up knowing only his mother. That child will live an angry life.
Today a young girl was raped by her uncle. She will be raped again tomorrow.
Today someone found out that they will be blind in a year because of a degenerative eye condition.
Today someone lost both their legs.
Today someone told their child they were stupid. The child believed her.
Today someone will spend the night outside. The wind chill will be 5 degrees below zero. They are wearing pants soiled with urine. They ate half of a sandwich they found in a garbage can yesterday.
Lent is a time to mourn. There are things to mourn.
“According to Christian teachers, the essential vice, the utmost evil, is Pride. Unchastity, anger, greed, drunkenness, and all that, are mere fleabites in comparison: it was through Pride that the devil became the devil: Pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind.
Does this seem exaggerated? If so, think it over. I pointed out a moment ago that the more pride one had, the more one disliked pride in others. In fact, if you want to find out how proud you are the easiest way is to ask yourself, ‘How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronize me, or show off?’ The point is that each person’s pride is in competition with every one else’s pride. It is because I wanted to be the big noise at the party that I am so annoyed at someone else being the big noise. Two of a trade never agree. Now what you want to get clear is that Pride is essentially competitive - is competitive by its very nature – while the other vices are competitive only, so to speak, by accident. Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. We say that people are proud of being rich, or clever, or good looking, but they are not. They are proud of being richer, or cleverer, or better looking than others. If everyone became equally rich, or clever, or good looking there would be nothing to be proud about. It is the comparison that make you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest…
The Christians are right: it is Pride which has been the chief cause of misery in every nation and every family since the world began. Other vices may sometimes bring people together: you may find good fellowship and jokes and friendliness among drunken people or unchaste people. But pride always means enmity – it is enmity. And not only enmity between man and man, but enmity to God…
Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call ‘humble’ nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, swarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.
If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realize that one is proud. And a biggish step too. At least, nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.”
- C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity: “The Great Sin.”
“Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands you sinners; and purify your hearts you double-minded.”
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”
And speaking of Kierkegaard….
That last quote about the seasons of life comes from his “Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing.“ I read a couple of chapters from it a few weeks ago. Why can’t I read whole books anymore? Probably because I spend so much time on the mind-altering electronic drug we call the Internet.
But in the book, Kierkegaard explores James 4:8, which links an impure heart to “double-mindedness.” What Kierkegaard seems to take this to mean is that when our hearts are impure, our motives are always multiple.
I try to be nice to the people that rent rooms in my house. Am I doing this because I care about them or because I don’t want to go through the hassle of finding somebody new to fill a spot? I go to a party and mingle. Am I doing this because I want to catch up with old friends and acquaintances and really know how they are, or am I more worried about how I come off to the people around me? Maybe I just want to be seen as impressive in some way. I give money to a charity. Am I doing this because I think it’s a worthwhile cause, or do I just want to ease an unsettled conscience?
Why do we do what we do? Our motives are a guessing game, even to ourselves in our most introspective moments. I don’t know the mixture of motives that lie beneath the surface of why I act a certain way around my roommates, go to a particular party, or give money to a charity. But, although I wish it were otherwise, I know they are “double.” I know that at least part of my reason for doing all of the things I do is an unhealthy self-interest. A desire to look out for my own good above the good of others. And most of the time, more specifically, a desire to feed my Ego. Pride.
For Kierkegaard, purity of heat is to will one thing: “the good.” Purity of heart is to give up seeking your own benefit over the benefit of others. To lose your ego to the point that you literally do not will anything for yourself, but only the good of the world. Kierkey might say that your will and God’s will become one. That is purity of heart, and the pure of heart will see God.
But is it just an idealistic dream that this can be achieved?
I honestly don’t know.
“Oh, Thou that givest both the beginning and the completion, give Thou victory in the day of need so that neither a man’s burning wish nor his determined resolution may attain to, may be granted unto him in the sorrowing of repentance: to will only one thing.”
“The animal also changes with the years. When it is older it has other desires than it had at an earlier age. At certain times it, too, has its happiness in life, and at other times it must endure hardship. Yes, when late autumn comes, even the flower can speak the wisdom of the years and say with truthfulness, ‘All has its time, there is a time to be born and a time to die; there is a time to jest lightheartedly in the spring breeze, and a time to break under the autumn storm; there is a time to burst forth into blossom, beside the running water, beloved by the stream, and a time to wither and be forgotten; a time to be sought out for one’s beauty, and a time to be unnoticed in one’s wretchedness; there is a time to be nursed with care, and a time to be cast out with contempt; there is a time to delight in the warmth of the morning sun and a time to perish in the night’s cold. All has its time…”
- Soren Kierkegaard, Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing
“The Twentieth Century is, among other things, the Age of Noise. Physical noise, mental noise and noise of desire—we hold history’s record for all of them. And no wonder; for all the resources of our almost miraculous technology have been thrown into the current assault against silence. That most popular and influential of all recent inventions, the radio, is nothing but a conduit through which pre-fabricated din can flow into our homes.
And this din goes far deeper, of course, than the ear-drums. It penetrates the mind, filling it with a babel of distractions—news items, mutually irrelevant bits of information, blasts of corybantic or sentimental music, continually repeated doses of drama that bring no catharsis, but merely create a craving for daily or even hourly emotional enemas. And where, as in most countries, the broadcasting stations support themselves by selling time to advertisers, the noise is carried from the ears, through the realms of phantasy, knowledge and feeling to the ego’s central core of wish and desire.
Spoken or printed, broadcast over the ether or on wood-pulp, all advertising copy has but one purpose—to prevent the will from ever achieving silence. Desirelessness is the condition of deliverance and illumination. The condition of an expanding and technologically progressive system of mass production is universal craving. Advertising is the organized effort to extend and intensify craving—to extend and intensify, that is to say, the workings of that force, which (as all the saints and teachers of all the higher religions have always taught) is the principal cause of suffering and wrong-doing and the greatest obstacle between the human soul and its divine Ground.”
- Aldous Huxley, The Perennial Philosophy
“For the animal to be happy it is enough that this moment be enjoyable. But man is hardly satisfied with this at all. He is much more concerned to have enjoyable memories and expectations – especially the latter. With these assured, he can put up with an extremely miserable present. Without this assurance, he can be extremely miserable in the midst of immediate physical pleasure.
Here is a person who knows that in two weeks’ time he has to undergo a surgical operation. In the meantime he is feeling no physical pain; he has plenty to eat; he is surrounded by friends and human affection; he is doing work that is normally of great interest to him. But his power to enjoy these things is taken away by constant dread. He is insensitive to the immediate realities around him. His mind is preoccupied with something that is not yet here. It is not as if he were thinking about it in a practical way, trying to decide whether he should have the operation or not, or making plans to take care of his family and his affairs if he should die. These decisions have already been made. Rather, he is thinking about the operation in an entirely futile way, which both ruins his present enjoyment of life and contributes nothing to the solution of any problem. But he cannot help himself.
This is the typical human problem. The object of dread may not be an operation in the immediate future. It may be the problem of next month’s rent, of a threatened war or social disaster, of being able to save enough for old age, or of death at the last. This “spoiler of the present” may not even be a future dread. It may be something out of the past, some memory of an injury, some crime or indiscretion, which haunts the present with a sense of resentment or guilt. The power of memories and expectations is such that for most human beings the past and the future are not as real, but more real than the present. The present cannot be lived happily unless the past has been “cleared up” and the future is bright with promise.”
- Alan Watts, The Wisdom of Insecurity
Living in the moment without letting anxieties about a projected future steal your joy…another reason to be more like a dog.
“The value of philosophy is, in fact, to be sought largely in its very uncertainty. The man who has no tincture of philosophy goes through life imprisoned in the prejudices derived from common sense, from the habitual beliefs of his age or his nation, and from convictions which have grown up in his mind without the co-operation or consent of his deliberate reason. To such a man the world tends to become definite, finite, obvious; common objects rouse no questions, and unfamiliar possibilities are contemptuously rejected. As soon as we begin to philosophize, on the contrary, we find, as we saw in our opening chapters, that even the most everyday things lead to problems to which only very incomplete answers can be given.
Philosophy, though unable to tell us with certainty what is the true answer to the doubts which it raises, is able to suggest many possibilities which enlarge our thoughts and free them from the tyranny of custom. Thus, while diminishing our feeling of certainty as to what things are, it greatly increases our knowledge as to what they may be; it removes the somewhat arrogant dogmatism of those who have never travelled into the region of liberating doubt, and it keeps alive our sense of wonder by showing familiar things in an unfamiliar aspect…
…Philosophy is to be studied, not for the sake of any definite answers to its questions, since no definite answers can, as a rule, be known to be true, but rather for the sake of the questions themselves…”
- Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy
We continue exploring John Hick’s, The Fifth Dimension, a book in which Hick makes an extended argument for the reality of a “spiritual dimension to life.” If his argument holds, it would mean that God / “the Transcendent” / “the Divine” (depending on if you use Western, personal categories or Eastern, impersonal categories) is an ontological reality, not simply a projection of humanity’s imagination. Today we’ll look at Chapter IV where Hick discuses elements of the human experience which he believes are “windows on the Transcendent.”
After spending Chapter III arguing for the mere possibility of interpreting the universe in spiritual terms, Hick spends Chapter IV laying fourth evidence that leads him to believe in a “spiritual dimension to life,” or that God exists. He calls these aspects of the universe “Windows on the Transcendent” and looks at three in particular…Windows of the Mind, Windows in the Natural Word, and Windows in Human Life.
Windows of the Mind
Something exists that we call “Mind” or “Consciousness.” Its nature and correlation to the physical world is, in the eyes of many, a sheer mystery. While many naturalist philosophers identify “mind” as identical to the brain (“mind-brain identity theory”) or see “mind” as simply a byproduct of physical events in the brain (“epiphenomenalism”), Hick believes each of these theories to be wrongheaded. In regards to the “mind-brain identity theory,” Hick makes the seemingly obvious observation that mental and physical events are not simply different in degree, they are different in kind. To say that an electrical impulse between synapses literally is the picture in a person’s consciousness which it produces (or at least correlates with) seems absurd. He elaborates:
Suppose a surgeon has exposed an area of a patient’s brain, and because this contains no pain nerves the patient is conscious and able to report what is going on in her mind. Suppose she is visualizing a seaside bay, the waves sparkling in the sun, a harbour with moored fishing boats at the foot of a grassy cliff, and on top of that a ruined castle. It makes sense – whether true or false – to say that the electrical activity in the brain which the monitors are recording is causing this particular content of the patient’s consciousness (the ‘qualia’ in the philosophical jargon). It also makes sense – again, whether true or false – to say that the visualizing could not occur without this particular brain activity. But does it make sense to say that the visualized scene literally is activity in the grey matter which the surgeon can see and touch? Surely this is not even a coherent possibility. There are no pictures or colours, no images of sea and harbour and fishing boats and castles on a hill, in the brain. There are synaptic connections between the millions of neurons, and electricity flowing through a region of these connections in a pattern which somehow either produces or is produced by this particular mental effort of imagination…
Basically Hick doesn’t really know what it means to say that the brain is the mind. It just doesn’t makes sense. I agree.
As for “epiphenominalism,” the belief that consciousness is simply a temporary byproduct of brain activity which ends at death, Hick sees two problems. First, why would “mind” arise in the course of evolution? If “mind” is simply a byproduct of physical causes in the brain, and “mind” can’t actually control anything (it’s kind of just “along for the ride”), there is absolutely no survival value…no conceivable reason for its development. Second, Hick, along with many others, believes that epiphenominalism cannot be reconciled with free-will.
Consciousness as a passive reflection of brain activity means no free will, no capacity of the conscious mind to initiate change…
Although there can be the illusion of freewill (‘compatibilist’ freewill) in a physically determined world there can be no genuine (‘non-compatibilist’ or ‘libertarian’) freewill. But in that case, as Epicurus pointed out long ago, ‘He who says that all things happen of necessity cannot criticize another who says that not all things happen of necessity. For he has to admit that the assertion also happens of necessity.’
In other words, if you believe that every thought is simply the byproduct of a determined physical world, you also have to believe that that very thought is also simply a byproduct. You didn’t reason your way to it. It’s not a better idea than any other. It is simply a byproduct of inanimate matter in motion. So you “reason” your way to a position in which the concept of “reason” or “rational thinking” doesn’t make sense. You cut the branch off that is supporting you. This is a common argument against Naturalism (the belief that only physical matter exists) … it makes free-will and reason a facade. Which means you can’t argue for it!
…we are left with the mysterious but undeniable fact of consciousness as a non-physical reality, a reality which we have to assume is capable of free self-determining activity. This opens a window onto the possibility of the kind of non-physical reality to which the religions point as God, Brahman, the Dharmakaya and the Tao.
Windows in the Natural World
Hick believes the concept of “Beauty” leads to a spiritual worldview. Meh.
Windows in Human Life
Hick believes that “Love” and “altruism” in human life leads to a spiritual worldview. Meh.
Thoughts: There are all kinds of arguments for the existence of God (or a Spiritual Dimension)…Hick is by no means exhaustive in this chapter. I think by far the most interesting argument he brings up here is the idea of consciousness or “mind” as a non-physical reality. If we follow Hick’s line of reasoning and accept our own minds as a non-physical reality, might it make sense to say that there may be another non-physical reality (i.e. God or a “Spiritual Dimension”) as well? It sure might…
All things Hick, including other Fifth Dimension Chapter reviews, can be found here…
And this will be, in all likelihood, my last on the Fifth Dimension. What made me think I could do a 25 part series?