Showing posts with label monotheism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label monotheism. Show all posts

Monday, October 19, 2026

Contact

In the fall of 2026, Chris Graney, an astronomer at the Vatican Observatory, argued that the universe of at least 2 trillion galaxies (according to a study in 2016 using the orbital Hubble Space Telescope) probably contains few, if any, planets capable of supporting intelligent life. This claim may come as a surprise, given the gargantuan number of possibly habitable exoplanets in the universe and the associated likelihood of alien life out there. The overlay of theology onto science, as if the latter’s criteria were nugatory and thus dismissible relative to religious doctrine, is problematic because the two domains are arguably distinct and even unique, even though they are related. Such a category mistake is highlighted in the film, Contact (1997), in which religious figures (who have related political roles in the White House) impose monotheist criteria in the selection of an astronaut for space travel, which is primarily a scientific enterprise.


The full essay is at "Contact."

Sunday, August 10, 2025

Arjuna’s Vision of Krishna: On the Edge of Transcendence

In reading the Bhagavad-Gita from chapter four on, it may be tempting to collapse all of Hinduism into a monotheism in which Lord Krishna is God. Even in the context of bhukti being directed exclusively to Krishna, other deities are alluded to in the text. To claim that those other deities came out of Krishna, and even that Krishna surpasses even Brahman, which is infinite being that is imperishable awareness, thought (but not mind), power, and bliss, in terms of ultimacy does not mean that the Gita is a monotheist scriptural faith-narrative. Not even Krishna’s unmanifest form by which the deity’s creative energy gives rise to the cosmos transcends form itself, and thus reaches the unmanifest and formless brahman. To be sure, that Krishna, as the Supreme Person metaphysically and ontologically, is ultimately Self renders the deity identical to brahman, but this does not mean that Krishna transcends brahman. Regardless of where the Krishna-Brahman debate lands, and there are admittedly shlokas in the Gita that support the ultimacy of Krishna and shlokas that favor the ultimacy of Brahman, Krishna need not be more ultimate than brahman for a devotee of the deity to be able to experience a lot of transcendence from ordinary experience. In fact, because either referent that is the Absolute lies beyond the limits of human cognition, perception, and sensibility (emotion), according to the Christian theologian Pseudo-Dionysius, the human experience of distinctly religious transcendence is where our attention can fruitfully be directed. This is not to say that a referent (i.e., a divine, transcendent object) is thereby relegated or even discarded in favor of the quality of experience as its own referent. Rather, it is to say that we can know a lot more than we do about distinctly religious, and thus transcending, experience, and that such knowledge is part of the human condition—part of being human as homo religios as distinct from being a political, economic, and social species. First I investigate the question of whether the Gita is monotheist, after which I argue that Arjuna’s vision of Krishna in chapter 11 of the Gita is can be viewed as the “event horizon” of sorts in terms of how much we can transcend as we approach the limits of our faculties.

One scholar argues that even though Krishna “is manifold in his appearances,” his form “is the one and only” in “relationship to the manifold character of the cosmos.”[1] In his “cosmic form all beings, including the Vedic gods, reside and find their place.”[2] This is not, however, to say that Krishna is the only deity referenced in the Gita, and, moreover, that Krishna is synonymous with brahman even though Krishna’s unmanifest form of fullness “is a product of the god’s yogic [creative] power and . . . expresses sovereignty” and is thus “not his highest state of being as the transcendent ‘self’ beyond the cosmos,” the latter being how brahman too is described.[3]  Krishna, unlike Brahman, is not just the transcendent “self,” and even a king is described, in The Law of Manu (7.4ff), as “consisting of and uniting different gods” and therefore should “be regarded as a ‘universal form’.”[4] Being the protector of a social, economic, and political order (i.e., a kingdom), a king embodies “the divine powers of the gods who contribute to his sovereignty,” hence “he is called ‘a mighty godhead that lives in the form (body) of a man.”[5] Indeed Krishna’s cosmic body, within which Arjuna sees the created realm, is explicitly related to human kingship in that the “cosmic and royal aspects of Krsna’s form converge not only at the moment of creation, but also in times of destruction, which serve the double purpose of punishment and purification, as well as re-establishing order and legitimate kings.”[6] Krishna’s relation to royal sovereignty and thus functionality inhibits the deity being synonymous with Brahman, and thus ultimately ultimate even though Arjuna needs “divine eyes” to see Krishna’s infinite overwhelming and terrifying form. Transcendence, like a Hindu temple, has more than one layer, and human “sight,” even with “divine eyes,” can only go so far. This is the idea.

In short, even if, as one scholar claims, Krishna “is the one and only encompassing cosmic god,”[7] and is thus the creator and destroyer of worlds in being the protector of the cosmic order, Brahman transcends cosmic functions because Brahman is not a doer, just as an individual atman is immutable (i.e., unchanging) too. My point is that not even Krishna as depicted as his cosmic form in the Gita can be regarded as the Absolute or Ultimate metaphysically, ontologically, and even theologically.

Even as a deity, Krishna is not exclusively so. In Gita 11.21, “Yonder, these hosts of deities enter into You. Some, terrified, praise (You) . . . ,” the very existence of those other deities is presupposed, for it would make no sense to claim that things that don’t exist enter into Krishna.[8] Also, Gita 11.54 states that the other deities would like to see the vision of Krishna. These two slokas are enough to refute the view that the other deities are merely imaginary and thus Krishna alone is God. That is, shlokas 11.21 and 11.54 are polytheist rather than monotheist statements.

Even so, Malinar claims that Gita, chapter 9, “and the subsequent chapters present the theological basis for Krsna’s revelation as the highest, the one and only god.”[9] That Krishna can be both the highest and yet the only deity is itself problematic unless the other gods are illusory, an interpretation that the two shlokas in Gita 11 contradict. To be sure, the other deities, in being formed, are not ultimate; unlike Krishna, they do not have an unmanifest form, but not even that form is ultimate ontologically. As manifested to Arjuna, Krishna’s “flaming many-colored, (with) gaping mouths and flaming vast eyes” is said to touch “the world-sky.”[10] Even though brahman creates space, Ramanuja identifies that sky “with the transcendental ‘space’ of the Ultimate Being beyond the world-ground.”[11] Feuerstein, however, objects to this interpretation by noting that the “transcendental Reality is formless and ‘beyond-the-three-primary-qualities’ (nirguna).”[12] The reality that is Brahman transcends even Krishna’s unmanifest form by which Krishna’s creative energy creates the cosmos. Hence the errancy of positing Krishna as more ultimate than Brahman. Even so, the extent of transcendence that Arjuna experiences when he beholds the vision of Krishna that that deity enables Arjuna to see “with divine eyes” is such that Arjuna’s cognitive, perceptual, and emotive capacities are reached as they start to buckle even though the Absolute or Ultimate transcends even that point. It is the buckling, or warping, of Arjuna’s faculties that is so indicative of what it is like to push oneself to one’s limits in transcendence. Whether Krishna or Brahman is the Absolute (i.e., personal or impersonal), the yearning to transcend more and more is itself significant and thus worthy of study and praxis.

As described both by Samjaya and Arjuna, the vision of Krishna is admittedly nothing short of inspiring of awe in its wholistic totality. Narrating the past event of the vision of Krishna to King Dhritarashtra, Samjaya describes Krishna as “infinite (and) omnipresent,” as the “Great Self” of greater “splendor” than were “a thousand suns were to arise at once in the sky,” as “the God of gods,” with “the whole universe . . . abiding in the One, there in [Krishna’s] body.”[13] Referring to that body, Arjuna says, “I behold the gods and all the (various) kinds of beings” enter. Moreover, Arjuna characterizes Krishna as being “of endless form,” even “All-Form!”[14]  Overwhelmed, Arjuna states his conviction as a devotee to Krishna: “You ought to be known as the supreme Imperishable. You are the supreme receptacle of all this. You are the Immutable, the Guardian of the eternal law. You are the everlasting Spirit.”[15] By the latter is mean purusha, which is Brahman’s creative energy, which brahman itself transcends.[16]

Even though bhukti to Krishna is all-encompassing for a devotee, the perception of Krishna as the Absolute and other deities as within Krishna’s body or illusory doesn’t necessarily translate into an ontological claim that those deities do not really exist whereas Krishna transcends. Moreover, the contention that since “it is Krsna’s body in which the whole world resides, he is not only the supreme lord of the universe (visva-isvara), but also its universal, encompassing form (visvarupa)”[17] actually situates Krishna behind brahman, which as inherently unmanifest transcends form itself and every conceivable form, even Krishna’s unmanifest cosmic form that contains the created realm and even the other deities, including Brahma.

Yet in terms of transcendental experience, Arjuna’s vision of Krishna pushes the envelope up to the limits of human cognition, perception, and emotion. This is not to infer an ontological or metaphysical claim regarding Krishna; rather, I contend that the vision in this case comes up so close to the rim beyond which human thought, perception, and emotion cannot go that warping of their respective contours is evident.

In the Christian Gospels, the disciples’ vision of Jesus’s transformed resurrected body is perhaps not as close to the limits. To be sure, the nature of that body eclipses our understanding, at least so far, but it cannot be said, as Krishna tells Arjuna: “Very-difficult-to-see is this My form which you have seen. Even the gods are forever hankering after a glimpse of this form.”[18] Even the gods! Of course, in Christian theology, there are no other deities than the trinitarian deity, but unlike Arjuna, Jesus’s disciples have no difficulty in seeing the resurrected body. Whereas the vision of Krishna departs from that deity’s human form substantially, Jesus’s resurrected body does not. The greater anthropomorphism comes at the cost of not being able to approach the boundaries of the human faculties in terms of transcendence. This is the idea.

In short, in having to be given “divine eyes” to see Krishna as that deity really is, which other deities can only wish to see, and in seeing an infinite number of arms and heads, the vision warps the cognitive and perceptual framework that operates nonstop as the paradigmatic contours of our ordinary waking experience in life. We are not used to thinking that we can see what is refused to deities, and seeing the entire created realm in a deity’s body, which in turn is distended in heads and arms, in a golden radiance that is brighter than a thousand suns in the sky is not something we see in our daily lives.

In fact, not only is space warped in the world being shown in Krishna’s body, but time too is warped when Krishna, “in his appearance as time, shows those [warriors] whom Arjuna should kill as having been killed already.”[19] This warping of time is “based on a suspension of the otherwise chronological sequence of past, present, and future. . . . The future is presented as already past; conversely, the present appears as the moment in which this future is disclosed as an actual fact.”[20] The Kantian a priori impact of reason itself on the paradigmatic framework that structures and organizes our cognitions and perceptions of the empirical realm is thus warped, and the warping of the time-space fabric by gravity that Einstein theorized and has since been empirically verified (e.g., gravity waves in space; time differences between sea-level and Mt Washington in North America) can be thought of analogically in which gravity is like Krishna in that both are capable of warping space and time. To be sure, whereas gravity is an impersonal warping of time-space, it is the Supreme Person as Krishna really is that is presented “as time,” which “is regarded as a form of the cosmic god as sovereign who brings about a necessary and purifying destruction in order to re-establish order.”[21] In other words, “Arjuna’s task is to recognize Krsna as the agent in the form of time. Conversely, time has been given a form and even an agent.”[22] Being presented with time in a distinctly theological sense stretches Arjuna’s cognitive faculty to its limit.

The situs of the vision of Krishna being at the “event horizon” is evident too in Arjuna’s emotional reaction, for he is, as it were, at the end of his tether. As one scholar describes this, “After confirming that Arjuna has indeed seen the whole world in the one body of Krsna (11.13) . . . , Samjaya describes the reaction: ‘Filled with amazement (awe) with his hair standing on end, and bowing his head and folding his hands to pay reverence, Arjuna spoke.’”[23]  Arjuna’s emotional condition is thus “highlighted” in the text.[24] Seeing Krishna’s “many formidable fangs,” Arjuna states that he, as well as the “worlds,” shudder” and that he can “find no shelter,” presumably from his fright.[25] Arjuna’s “inmost self quakes,” and he can “find no fortitude or tranquility.”[26] It is no wonder that he is suddenly petrified, for he sees his army’s leading warriors “swiftly enter [Krishna’s] mouths with formidable fear-instilling fangs. Some [of the warriors] are seen with pulverized heads sticking in between [Krishna’s] teeth.”[27] Arjuna is “trembling,” and “with stammering (voice), very frightened.”[28] Arjuna’s trembling “underscores the amazement and awe caused by the vision.”[29] In such a state, Arjuna’s praise of Krishna can be interpreted as being “indicative of Arjuna’s position as the composer of hymnic praise”, which is associated in the Rigveda with “poetic creativity,” which is an expression of “vibrant excitement.”[30] In other words, Arjuna’s praise is expressive of the extreme emotion of his “poetic-ecstatic state,”[31] rather than constituting religious belief-claims that reality is ultimately a Supreme Person rather than brahman and that the other deities are imaginary whereas Krishna is ontologically and metaphysically existent.

Out of incredible angst, Arjuna cannot say enough about Krishna, declaring that deity to be the unsurpassable Ultimate, “greater even than Brahman, the primordial creator,” “the Imperishable, existence and nonexistence and what is beyond that,” “the Primordial God, the ancient Spirit (purusha),” and again of being of all-consuming “infinite form.”[32] Because Arjuna is emotionally overwhelmed, these laudatory statements can be interpreted as being emotionally expressive rather than ontologically or metaphysical statements.

I totally disagree with the assertion that in Arjuna addressing Krishna as being the “all” (sarvah), rather than merely as being powerful in “bringing together ‘all’ as the cosmic ruler, a “monotheistic framework” applies.[33] For one thing, logically it does not follow from Arjuna’s praises of Krishna as being “of infinite strength, and immeasurable prowess,” such that Krishna has “brought together the all (sarvam),” that “therefore you are all (sarvo).”[34] Likewise, it does not follow logically that a king who brings together all of his kingdom is that kingdom, even if one were to exclaim, l’état est moi! Even if Krishna were “all,” it would still need to be argued how that is a monotheist claim, but Arjuna is not really asserting claims.

Rather, because his emotions are so intense that they, like the vision itself, are all-consuming, his over-the-top praises of Krishna can be reckoned as emotive expressions in “poetic and ritual language.”[35] To impose rationality on such language is to incur a category mistake. Reflecting the overwhelming vision, Arjuna’s praises are indicative of the warping effect of the sheer intensity of heightened emotions, as could be expected given the overwhelming tremendum (i.e., terror) that Arjuna feels as a reaction to seeing the bodies of his teachers, fellow warriors, and relatives in Krishna’s sharp, gnawing fangs. Therefore, in an emotive sense too, the vision can be reckoned as lying on the rim, or “event horizon,” of human faculties, beyond which they shut down or are otherwise incapable of experiencing in a coherent fashion. I submit that it is precisely because Arjuna is up against the rim of what he is capable of feeling without passing out that he experiences the flood of emotions as “all,” and his praises are expressions of emotion that project the all-consuming sense he has of his emotions and the vision itself.

My basic point is that the warping, or blurring, of each of the basic contours of cognition, perception, and emotion indicates that Arjuna is on the cusp of the boundary beyond which is like a black hole in outer space. Unlike Jesus’s resurrected body being visible to the disciples, the vision of Krishna is at the event-horizon, where the normal parameters for cognition, perception and emotion warp similar to how the intense gravity of a dense black hole warps the fabric of space-time at the rim beyond which not even light can escape.  Of course, this analogy breaks down in that revelation “gets out” of the theological “black hole,” albeit through a window darkened by centuries of candle-smoke as revelation passes through our human, all too human atmosphere. 



1. Angelika Malinar, The Bhagavadgita: Doctrines and Contexts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 166.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid., p. 170.
4. Ibid.
5. Ibid., p. 171.
6. Ibid., p. 172.
7. Ibid.
8. Georg and Brenda Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita: A New Translation (Boston: Shambhala, 2011), p. 227.
9. Angelika Malinar, The Bhagavadgita: Doctrines and Contexts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 144.
10. Gita 11.24 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 229.
11. Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 229.
12. Ibid.
13. Gita 11.11-13, in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 223.
14. Gita 11.15-16, in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 225.
15. Gita 11.18, in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 225.
16. Similarly, in Christian theology, God transcends the Logos (Word), by which God creates the world.  No theologian would state that God is a manifestation of Logos, and yet Krishna as the Supreme Person is said to be more ultimate than is brahman. David Hume would doubtlessly bring in the problem of anthropomorphism.
17. Malinar, The Bhagavadgita, p. 169.
18. Gita 11.52 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 245.
19. Malinar, The Bhagavadgita: Doctrines and Contexts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 175.
20. Malinar, The Bhagavadgita, p. 175.
21. Malinar, The Bhagavadgita, p. 178.
22. Ibid.
23. Ibid., p. 168.
24. Ibid.
25. Gita 11.24-25 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 229.
26. Gita 11.24 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 229.
27. Gita 11.27 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 231.
28. Gita 11.35 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 235.
29. Malinar, The Bhagavadgita, p. 180.
30. Ibid.
31. Ibid.
32. Gita 11.37-38 in Feuerstein, The Bhagavad-Gita, p. 237.
33. Malinar, The Bhagavadgita, p. 183.
34. Gita 11.40, in Angelika Malinar, The Bhagavadgita, p. 183.
35. Malinar, The Bhagavadgita, p. 181. The Gita “is similar to the original poetic situation described in Vedic texts, in which the hymns are said to have been composed in reaction to a vision, and then handed down and used by sacrificial priests as ritual liturgy.” Indeed, “poetic skill and expression remained part and parcel of the encounter (darsana) with the beloved god or goddess in many bhakti traditions” (Ibid., p. 182).

Monday, March 17, 2025

The Hindu Festival of Holi: Polytheism in Practice

On March 14, 2025, “(m)illions of people in South Asia celebrated Holi, the Hindu festival of colors . . . by smearing each other with brightly colored powder, dancing to festive music and feasting on traditional sweets prepared for the occasion.”[1] Lest the various eats and drinks be dismissed for analytical purposes as trivial, a particular kind of drink or food that is traditional can have religious significance by reflecting Hinduism as a polytheistic rather than a monotheist religion. Whereas monotheism allows for only one deity, etymologically mono theos, a polytheist religion has more than one deity, even if one is deemed to be superior over the others.

Holi, a national holiday in India and a two-day holiday in Nepal, where Hinduism is the national religion, celebrates “the end of winter and the triumph of good over evil.”[2] In this regard, Holi shares themes with the Christian festival of Easter, which also occurs during the spring. Yet whereas Easter celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ from physical, corporeal death, and used to be associated with an ancient Roman fertility festival—and has retained that theme as the Easter Bunny and Easter egg hunts—“Holi has its origins in Hindu mythology and lore and celebrates the divine love between the Hindu god Krishna and his consort Radha, and signifies a time of rebirth and rejuvenation.”[3] The association with the end of winter and “rebirth and rejuvenation” applies to both Easter and Holi, as well as the pagan festival of the Spring Equinox, which also takes place in the spring (i.e., it is not the beginning of meteorological spring).

In Hindu theology, Krishna is an embodied avatar (i.e., incarnation) of Vishnu, who with Brahma and Shiva are the three main gods in Hinduism. This does not mean that Krishna is less significant, however, as that deity has a prominent place in the Hindu scriptural text, the Bhagavad-Gita. In that text, Krishna claim to be superior to all of the other Hindu deities. This does not mean that Hinduism is monotheist. This point is reflected by the fact that bhang, a drink prepared with cannabis and consumed with milk or water, is a “tradition that marks Holi.”[4] Even though Krishna and his consort figure prominently in the festival, the “drink is connected to Hinduism, particularly to Lord Shiva”.[5] That the association with that deity, which is commensurate with Vishnu, of which Krishna is but the tenth incarnation, is tolerated (the cannabis likely being helpful in this regard) in a festival based on Krishna signifies that Hindus are just fine with their religion being polytheist. Even though the attitude evinced by statements like, You shouldn’t have a drink that is associated with another god during a festival of Krishna!, is consistent with polytheism because the existence of another god is implicitly affirmed, toleration is a much healthier attitude in a polytheist religion such as Hinduism. Worse than either attitude is making a category mistake in claiming that Hinduism is monotheist.



1. “Millions of  People Celebrate Holi, the Hindu Festival of Colors,” The Associated Press, March 14, 2025.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.

[5] Ibid.


Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Lord Krishna in the Bhagavadgita

The Hindu myth, the Bhagavadgita, is typically regarded as placing the god Krishna above not only the other Hindu gods—here rendered merely as Krishna’s various functionalities—but also Brahman, which is being and consciousness themselves. As Krishna is incarnated in human form, placing him at the peak of the Hindu pantheon—in fact, even reducing the latter to the extent that Hinduism can be regarded as monotheist—compromises the wholly-other quality of the divine that is based on it extending beyond the limits of human cognition, perception, and emotion. In other word, the importance of Krishna’s role in the Gita comes at a cost. Depicting Krishna as the “Supreme Person” connotes less transcendence than does depicting Brahman as being and consciousness (of the whole). In going against the grain by making Brahman the basis even of Krishna, Shankara, a Hindu theologian, philosopher, and ascetic of the eighth century, CE, restores transcendence to its importance in not only Hinduism, but also religion itself as a distinctive domain of human endeavor distinguished by its unique element of transcendence.

According to Shankara, Lord Krishna is born “in order to safeguard the spiritual power in the world,” which can also be expressed as “the state of Brahmanhood.”[1] Such safeguarding is especially valuable when cravings dominate and a decline of “discriminative knowledge” impair those people who would otherwise be practitioners of Dharma, the law of righteousness.[2]  Besides promoting prosperity, that law is oriented to the “emancipation of living beings,” for being liberated from samsara is the summum bonum for a human being.[3] Shankara states that “the purpose of the science of the Gita is to set forth the summum bonum, which consists in the total cessation of the transmigratory life and its causes.”[4] Transmigration does not take place in the world; the term is inherently spiritual, or religious, because it takes place in a realm between death and birth, and thus not in the world that we inhabit during a lifetime.

Although Shankara claims that the “unborn, immutable, Lord of beings, and, in essence, eternally pure conscious and free” Brahman becomes manifest in being “embodied and born as a man, for ensuring the welfare of the world,” I submit that for “the well-being of all living beings” is a more accurate description because whether or not an atman (self) is reborn or not is not contained in the world, but, rather, transcends it.[5] Even just trying in vain to imagine what it means for Brahman to be “eternally pure conscious” goes inherently beyond the limits of human cognition and perception. The Vedic law that is oriented to balancing embracing works with embracing cessation or renunciation pales in comparison to the extent that promoting balance in the world is taken as an end rather than as a means toward liberation from the world. Shankara’s stance that maya is merely illusion rather than being the causality by which Brahman emanates multiplicity in the world can itself be taken as an admission that the ways of Brahman are wholly other and thus not readily translatable into terms that we can fathom. Hence the Gita lauds whoever “is quiescent, firmly seated, silent, not thinking any thought.”[6]

In so far as the Vedic law of works is viewed in terms of promoting prosperity in the world—which is to say, “done with desire for fruits” rather, or even more, than in “dedication to God and without expectation of rewards,”—practicing the law does not even indirectly subserve “the attainment of emancipation” though admittedly such practice “leads its practitioners to the higher stations of heavenly beings.”[7] Madhusudana Sarasvati, another commentator of the Gita, claims that the first step in the “disciplines for Liberation” as presented “as the purpose” of the Gita, is “the performance of selfless work (niskama-karma) by rejecting rites and duties meant for personal gain (kamya-karma) and the prohibited actions (nisidha-karma).”[8] Of course, Shankara’s interpretation hardly promotes a worldly orientation. In fact, a proclivity in favor of the transcendent is implied, especially as “desire for fruits” can be included in cravings. Be in the world but not of it, Augustine warns Christians. Similarly, Shankara claims that the science of the Gita “is aimed at emancipation,” which characterizes an individual atman going back into unmanifest Brahman; hence Shankara also claims that the science “sets forth the ultimate Truth that is synonymous with Vasudeva, the content of Supreme Brahman.”[9] Having come from Brahman, an individual atman is sustained by Brahman in life and at death goes back into Brahman; the welfare of the world in which we live is thereby relegated, especially when an atman is liberated from this cycle of samsara and remains unmanifest in Brahman. Madhusudana Sarasvati’s description of the Unitive Vision as the “immediate Knowledge of the identity of Brahman and the Self”[10]—an identity that is certainly not lost on Shankara—anticipates the final fulfillment of an atman retiring in Brahman. This summum bonum, rather than the desire for earthly treasure and even religious ways to promote it, and even the achievement of balance in the world, grounds the Gita as distinctly religious in nature, and thus as firmly classifiable within the domain of religion.

1. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya of Sri Samkaracarya. Trans. A. G. Warrier (Madras, IN: Sri Ramakrishna Math), p. 2.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid., p. 4.
5. Ibid., p. 3.
6. Ibid., p. 4.
7. Ibid., pp. 4-5.
8. Madhusudana Sarasvati, Bhagavad-Gita. Trans. by Swami Gambhirananda, p. 22.
9. Shankara, Srimad Bhagavad Gita Bhasya of Sri Samkaracarya, p. 5.
10. Madhusudana Sarasvati, Bhagavad-Gita., p. 23.


Wednesday, January 29, 2025

Is the Hindu Bhagavadgita Monotheist?

Even though the Bhagavadgita is just a small part of the Mahabharata Hindu epic, the popularity of the former book in Hindu households has led to it being referred to as the Hindu Bible. This likeness should be taken at face value, for the contents in the Gita are very different than the theological context of the Bible, whether just the Torah, the Talmud, or the New Testament. Even though the virtue of kindness or love issuing out in compassion to other people is a shared descriptor of the Hindu Lord Krishna, which is the highest god in the Gita, and the Christian Lord Jesus, the ideational dissimilarities between the Gita and the Bible should not be glossed over. Put another way, not even the symbol of the mandala, which Joseph Campbell includes as the religious archetype of wholeness in The Power of Myth, should dispel the notion that religions contain unique and thus different philosophical and theological ideas and even just stances.

In the Bhagavadgita, for example, “(y)oga practices and knowledge of salvation are equated with ritual performances in which all defilements and desires are offered up in the ‘sacrificial fire’ (agni) of knowledge.”[1] In ritual, basic elements on Earth, such as fire, water, and food, which, astonishingly, are labeled as deities in the Chandogya Upanishad, are related to, and perhaps even vicariously connect, the cosmos and the human person. Knowledge of liberation from rebirths (samsara) involves or even necessitates the sacrifice of desires. The word salvation is extremely salient in Christianity, and yet is hardly innate to Hinduism; the connotation that being saved by the vicarious sacrifice (as per Anselm’s theology) of a god-man once and for all so that any believer is made right thereby with God (i.e., justified by faith, as per Luther’s theology) is foreign to Hinduism. To be sure, the inclusion the element of food in both the Hindu sacrificial ritual and in the Christian Eucharistic ritual (i.e., Communion) and even that the food is consecrated in the latter with the real presence of the divine (agape) and food is labeled at a deity in a Upanishad should not blind a non-Hindu reader of the Gita into supposing that the book’s paradigm like the one upon which the Judeo-Christian Bible rests.

Even taking into account Gnostic Christianity, the emphasis which the Gita places on knowledge, especially that which Krishna imparts to Arjuna, distinguishes Hinduism from Christianity, where at least Paul distinguishes theology from philosophy—only the knowledge of the wise being vain.[2] This demarcation, and prejudice against philosophy, does not exist in Hinduism. Malinar, for instance, refers explicitly to “the various religious and philosophical doctrines presented in the [Gita]” without driving an artificial wedge between them.[3]

Furthermore, even though Krishna is portrayed as the high deity and even the portal through which Brahman itself can be glimpsed in full—as if that were possible for a human being—it is a mistake to label the Gita as monotheist. Even though Krishna is portrayed in the Gita as “the mighty ruler and creator of the world and its dharmic order, as well as the ever-liberated and transcendent ‘highest self’” and thus as “the most powerful Lord and yogin,” with “power over nature (prakrti)” and being “the cosmic cause of activity” yet “detached from the created world, being forever ‘unborn’ and transcendent,”[4] it is a mistake to conclude that Krishna’s supreme qualities renders the Gita as monotheist.

As if the Gita were akin to Hobbes’ Leviathan, Malinar states that the “monotheistic theology in [the Gita] also offers an interpretation of kingship and royal power” simply because Krishna is revealed “as the highest god.”[5] Even in the Hebrew Bible where other gods are referred to, they are not credited with being real gods, so it is not as though Yahweh is the highest god; rather, Yahweh is the only god, and thus God.[6] Also, the accolades that Malinar attributes to Krishna do not make Krishna merely a manifestation of Yahweh, for the latter did not create a dharmic order and is not liberated as the highest-self. Although “detached from the created world, being forever ‘unborn’ and transcendent” also characterizes Yahweh, or God, I wonder whether Malinar was knowingly or unknowingly drawing on Christian theology in describing Krishna in such “Western” terms.

Furthermore, I submit that not even Brahman considered as the highest or supreme god in Hinduism renders the religion monotheist. One twentieth-century American philosopher, Keith Yandel, erroneously interpreted the Hindu philosopher and theologian, Shankara (8th century, CE), as characterizing Hinduism as monotheist simply because, according to non-dualism, the Hindu deities are merely appearances, or manifestations, of Brahman. As the ground-being of the world’s multiplicity, Brahman cannot be said have what we think of as intelligence as it differs from the awareness or consciousness of being itself qua being.  Neither can Brahman be thought of as a discrete entity, for Brahman is the being of everything—of all existence, or, perhaps more accurately, of existence itself. It is surely difficult, if not impossible, to view raw being as an entity; rather, being is the existential basis (rather than an attribute) of entities. So, I’m not convinced that Brahman can even be said to be a deity. It is possible that English translators of the Gita (and the Upanishads) have used a familiar word whose meaning differs from what the writers of the text(s) had in mind. In any case, when the warrior Arjuna gets a glimpse of Brahman itself by Krishna revealing himself as he really is, it is not the Abrahamic deity, or God, that Arjuna sees in his epiphany.

As yet another example of a leitmotif of the Gita that is not easily convertible into any of the Abrahamic faiths, Krishna urges Arjuna to engage on the external battlefield with “detached action” as a way to avoid “karmic bondage” even as Arjuna is active and performs his social duties.[7] To be sure, to be detached from sinful desires in Christianity bears a rough similarity to the “detached action,” but here even the desire not to harm relatives is a problem. Also, the very notion of “karmic bondage” is utterly foreign to the Abrahamic religions. In Christianity, for example, the bondage is to sin, whose basis lies within rather than as actions (even less in the residue of past actions).

Although religions can be said to bear Wittgenstein’s “family resemblances” to each other, the urge to minimize or overlook the differences between religions, as in depicting one in terms of another (or that another uses), should be checked and corrected for, lest scholars of religion unintentionally remake particular religions into more familiar terms. One of the main benefits of studying more than one religion, especially religions other than one’s own, is the access to different ideas and theologies/philosophies. A person’s own religious/philosophical paradigm can be made transparent to oneself even to be seen as an alternative rather than as the unquestioned and unrecognized default. Unconsciously distorting other religions into more familiar terms diminishes this realization.



1. Angelika Malinar, The Bhagavadgita: Doctrines and Contexts (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), p. 4.
2. 1. Cor. In contrast, the Hebrew Bible contains the verse, “God knows the thoughts of men.” Paul adapts this to: “God knows the thoughts of the wise; they are vain.” Jerusalem is fine; Athens is not. Such a dichotomy does not exist in Hinduism.  
3. Malinar, The Bhagavadgita, p. 5.
4. Ibid., p. 6.
5. Ibid., p. 4.
6. Also, whereas Hobbes’ notion of a sovereign power, whether a king or an assembly, has absolute political and religious (i.e., interpreting divine law) power within a territory, Hindu kings have traditionally been at least ritually dependent on the Brahmin priests in the main temple not only for another year of legitimacy, but also as a means of gaining power by giving land away through the auspices of the temple.
7. Malinar, The Bhagavadgita, p. 4.

Monday, June 17, 2024

Christianity and Hinduism: On Manifestations of Divinity

Hinduism is a polytheist religion whereas Christianity is monotheist. Many gods versus one seems like a clear distinction, and I submit that it basically holds. Yet nuances exist that make the distinction murky both in Hinduism and Christianity. The key to clearing up the ambiguity lies in deciding whether being a manifestation of something else is enough to count as existing as an entity. In simpler terms, is a manifestation real, or is it merely an appearance?

The foremost Hindu philosopher thus far is without doubt Shankara, who lived during the eighth century, C.E. in southern India and whose school, Advaita Vedanta, is essentially non-dualism—monism being the competing school of thought.  Shankara held that the deities in the Hindu pantheon are manifestations of brahman, which can be thought of as the substratum that pervades the universe. Only brahman really exists. The essence, content or substance of the individual soul, or atman, is brahman. To be a manifestation is to exist in the realm of appearance, rather than being something (i.e., an entity) that is real (or in the domain of the real). Shankara’s metaphysical framework also includes the realm of illusion, and it is important to keep in mind that the deities, such as Vishnu, Shiva, Krishna, and Ram, are not illusionary. Rather, they are manifestations of something that is real, namely brahman.

One of my professors, Keith Yandel, argued that Hinduism is thus monotheistic because its deities do not exist as entities, but are merely manifestations of one thing (brahman). But brahman is not a deity, but can be thought of as ether that is everywhere.  This cannot be said to be monotheism, even though brahman is one rather than being composed of distinct entities. Yandel’s basis was in Western philosophy and Christianity, and I believe he interpreted Hinduism through those prisms to expand the domain of monotheism in religion.

The problem is that the word “manifestation” is also in Christian theology in reference to the divine—in particular, to the Trinity, which is composed of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Although the Latin word personae used to denote these three “persons” of the Trinity strongly implies that they exist metaphysically as entities, unlike Shankara’s Hindu deities, the corresponding word used in Eastern (Orthodox) Christianity translates as “manifestation.” That puts us in the soup. For if the three manifestations of the divine in the Trinity do not absolve Christianity of being monotheist, then neither do the Hindu deities as manifestations keep Hinduism from counting as monotheist.

Ironically, praying to Jesus, if He is taken to be a distinct entity that really exists as such metaphysically, corresponds to the dualist camp in Hinduism, which holds that the deities, such as Vishnu and Shiva as well as their respective successive incarnations, are metaphysically real as entities. In short, if Jesus really exists as a distinct deity even though it is of the same substance as the Father and the Helper, and the latter two are real entities too, then from the standpoint of Hindu theological philosophy, Christianity is not monotheistic. But Christianity descends from Judaism, whose basic plank is that God is one. Preliminarily, it seems like Orthodox theology has a better understanding of the nature of the Trinity than does Roman Christianity and its descendants (i.e., Protestantism). To be a monotheist, it would seem that a Christian oriented to Jesus Christ would pray to a manifestation of the divine rather than to a particular deity. Jesus appears to be a deity, and thus an entity, yet in terms of metaphysical reality is an appearance of something that really exists: God. But then Hinduism would also be monotheistic because its deities are manifestations too.

Even if Western Christians come to think that they are praying to a specific manifestation of God (i.e., Jesus), such an understanding of the Trinity would imply that Hinduism is monotheist. Furthermore, to claim that Jesus is divine seems, at least to my Western mind, to mean that the Son of God is itself an entity that is real (i.e., exists as an entity, rather than as a manifestation of something even though that something is of the same substance). This way of understanding Jesus is consistent with dualism in Hinduism, in which its deities are real entities and so Hinduism is polytheist.  But then wouldn’t Christianity be as well? Must Jesus be a manifestation of the divine for Christianity to be monotheist? But then does it even make sense to pray to a manifestation that is in the realm of appearance rather than the real? Is there any way to finally square this circle?

If divine reality goes (or is sourced) beyond the limits of human conception, perception, and emotion as Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagite suggested in the late 5th or early 6th century, C.E., then all we have access to is manifestation (and illusion). Faith is oriented beyond this, hence to what only can be belief that Jesus exists as a real entity, but the content of this belief can only be a manifestation to us. But then why can’t Shakara’s Hinduism be monotheist? Furthermore, if revelation holds that the persons of the Trinity exist metaphysically as entities even within the limits of our cognitive reach, then how can we stop the inference from the Hindu school of dualism that Christianity is actually polytheist—assuming that the Father and the Son really exist as distinct entities even though they are consubstantial (i.e., of the same substance). Put another way, can divine manifestation be applied in one religion with it being monotheist and yet be applied in another religion that is polytheist, or are both Christianity and Hinduism monotheist faiths? Can Christianity be thought of as being monotheist with three distinct really-existing entities of the Trinity while Hindu dualism is needed to keep Hinduism polytheist?

To say that the whole thing is a mystery is true, but this is also a cop-out (i.e., a way to side-step or escape the problem without solving it). In Hinduism, Krishna is associated with love, and in Christianity, Jesus is too. Can we say that a Hindu prays to the Lord Krishna while a Christian prays to the Lord Jesus? This makes both religions seem polytheist. But Augustine and Paul both wrote that God is love, and it can be said that Jesus is a particular manifestation of love both personified (manifesting as such, rather than really existing as an entity) and preached in the Gospels. But then would not Lord Krishna as such make Hinduism monotheist?

The solution might lie in distinguishing Christian theological love (i.e., God is love) from Hindu brahman (i.e., the ether that pervades existence). Christian agape (i.e., self-emptying, or selfless) love may manifest metaphysically as the Trinity in a way that maintains oneness to a degree that Krishna as a manifestation of brahman does not. The key may lie in the distinction between theological love and metaphysical ether. If so, do we even know how theological love is distinct from the varieties we encounter and experience in our world? Can we say that brahman as ether counts as divinity as distinct from metaphysical substance, or else how it is that manifestations that are divine (i.e., deities as appearances) can be of something that is not itself divine in its very nature? Lord Jesus and Lord Krishna may be pointing to two very different things, the difference of which affecting what it means to manifest something.

Monday, April 1, 2019

Dorian Gray: Evil or Immoral?

The Picture of Dorian Gray, a Gothic and philosophical novel written by Oscar Wilde, was first published in 1890. The first motion picture, taking the same title, came out in 1945. Relative to The Secret of Dorian Gray (1970), the initial adaptation of the book can seem quite restrained, or Victorian, even though the novel had been controversial in its day. The 1970 film is awash in the sexual revolution, and is thus also affected by its times. The next film adaptation, Dorian Gray (2009), goes back to a classy nineteenth-century Dorian. The emphasis is on sexual immorality, albeit different than in the sexual revolution in the next century. The film largely departs from the plethora of religious symbolism and language in the 1945 film, though unlike in the 1970 film, a spiritual realm is not presumed to be an antiquated notion. Instead, the 2009 film substitutes supernaturalism for religion, especially in the climax.

The full essay is at "Dorian Gray."

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Why Do Atrocities Occur in the Name of God?

Why have atrocities been associated with religion—even having been committed under religious auspices? Four Crusades were fought, for example, by popes whose God is love—whose god-man extolls love of enemies and turning the other cheek rather than hitting back. In the modern era, Christianity has been tame, but terrorist acts have been committed in the name of God by people who presume that they cannot possibly be wrong in their beliefs. If Feuerbach is correct, the underlying problem inheres in the belief in God's very existence—that belief pointing us to a still deeper problem in the very nature of faith itself, to a vulnerability or susceptibility that has been overlooked or conveniently glossed over for as long as religion has existed on the face of the Earth.

Feuerbach lays out the problem in the following terms: “If the existence of God, taken by itself, had not rooted itself as a religious truth in minds, there would never have been those infamous, senseless, horrible ideas of God which stigmatise the history of religion and theology.”[1] Senseless ideas of God stigmatize the history of religion. Senseless people carried those ideas into practice, stigmatizing human history. Feuerbach’s surprise is that the belief in the existence of God—this belief in itself—may have a sordid byproduct or be inherently problematic.

“The belief in the existence of God is the belief in a special existence, separate from the existence of man and Nature.”[2] Feuerbach rejects the special existence precisely because it is external. This belief is sheer artifice, he argues, because God represents the best of our human nature—without its limitations: perfect love, all powerful, the highest good, infinite knowledge, and present everywhere. This is the origin of religious consciousness, which has been replaced by the conceptualization of the divine as an external object whose existence is portrayed as separate. To Feuerbach, that object is simply a product of the human imagination. 

The content of revelation is human. Revelation “must not be regarded as outside the nature of man.”[3] By nature, Feuerbach is referring to an instinctual urge. “There is within [man] an inward necessity which impels him to present moral and philosophical doctrines in the form of narratives and fables, and an equal necessity to represent that impulse as a revelation.”[4] This is not to say that religion reduces to morality; rather, what we take to be objective religious truth comes from within. The human imagination plays a vital role. “Man, by means of the imagination, involuntarily contemplates his inner nature; he represents it as out of himself,” as God.[5] As such, God “is an inward, spiritual being.”[6] Denied here is the transcendence of God, which I submit is vital, and, which interestingly does not require the conceptualization of God as an intelligent being or object; the important thing is that the reference point of the religious consciousness lies beyond the limits of human conception and perception.

To Feuerbach, God is rightly understood experience of mankind’s inner nature. At least it is not the actual inner nature that furnishes the divine content. Revelation comes “from the ideal nature of man to the phenomenal man, from the species to the individual.”[7] Even so, “between the divine revelation and the so-called human reason or nature, there is no other than an illusory distinction;--the contents of the divine revelation are of human origin, for they have proceeded not from God as God, but from God as determined by human reason, human wants, that is, directly from human reason and human wants.”[8] Rather than an external object willowing its revelation of itself to fit within human understanding, the source of divine revelation is the human imagination acting on the instinctual wish that our limitations be dissolved. “The imagination is, in general, the true place of an existence which is absent, not present to the senses, though nevertheless sensational in its essence.”[9] God loves and gets angry—vengeance is mine, saith the Lord—but these emotions are cut off from their source as manifesting in a quantitatively less way in human beings as soon as the divine is rendered as an external object whose existence transcends Creation.

As artificial as the cleavage or division is, the certainty of the severed, limitless sensibilities in an external object—not to mention that such an object exists—is perhaps even worse. “The religious mind . . . has the immediate certainty that all its involuntary, spontaneous affections are impressions from without, manifestations of another being.”[10] Such certainty is tantamount to factual knowledge, even though the being transcends the limits of human cognition (and perception). In fact, “a God who gives me a knowledge of himself through his own act is alone of a God who truly exists, who proves himself to exist,--an objective God.”[11] So the knowledge of an objective, externalized God is known to reveal itself as though a fact. Put another way, the belief in the existence of God as an external object carries with it the presumptuousness of belief rendering itself as factual knowledge.

Of course, the presumptuousness is limited to extant beliefs qua facts. “Were not the gods of Olympus also facts, self-attesting existences? Were not the ludicrous miracles of paganism regarded as facts?”[12] Yet in a later age the divine narratives are labeled as myths devised by the human mind. The “religious consciousness itself admits, in relation to past times, the essentially human quality of revelation. The religious consciousness of a later age is no longer satisfied with a Jehovah who is from head to foot a man, and does not shrink from becoming visible as such. It recognizes that those were merely images in which God accommodated himself to the comprehension of men in that age, that is, merely human images. But it does not apply this mode of interpretation to ideas accepted as revelation in the present age, because it is yet itself steeped in those ideas.”[13] Every religionist takes their own religious beliefs as facts of reason yet while insisting on faith, which implies belief rather than knowledge.

Clearly, religious “facts” are problematic. To Feuerbach, a religious “fact is every wish that projects itself on reality: in short, it is everything that is not doubted simply because it is not—must not be—doubted.”[14] To block doubt is not to establish a fact. Hence the wish for unlimited sensibilities impressed on reality in the form of a separate entity is not a fact; such an instinctual urge ought not glorify itself as a fact of reason.

It is important to isolate as problematic the human presumption to immediate certainty that revelation is indeed revelation. “The belief in revelation exhibits in the clearest manner the characteristic illusion of the religious consciousness. The general premiss of this belief is: man can of himself know nothing of God; all his knowledge is merely vain, earthly, human.”[15] We cannot know beyond the limits of our cognition and perception. In fact, what knowledge we do have is tainted. Feuerbach does not go with the obvious conclusion that even if an external intelligent being reveals itself to us we can’t know this. Rather, he claims that God reveals itself to us in terms that we can understand. “God is a superhuman being; God is known only by himself. Thus we know nothing of God beyond what he reveals to us. The knowledge imparted by God is alone divine, superhuman, supernatural knowledge. . . . But nevertheless the divine revelation is determined by the human nature. God speaks not to brutes or angels, but to men; hence he uses human speech and human conceptions.”[16] God’s revelation makes it into our realm through the dark window because the all-powerful knowledge can fit within human terms. “In the scheme of his revelation God must have reference not to himself, but to man’s power of comprehension.”[17] To reach us, God’s revelation of the divine nature must fit within our cognitive limits. Even so, given those limits, we cannot be certain that what we take to be revelation really is from an external intelligent being. Hence we cannot be certain even that such a being exists and yet we assume to have such certainty anyway.

From our presumptuous entitlement to infallibility concerning the belief in the existence of God as an external object follows immediate certainty regarding the religiously sourced morality of our actions, which we deem as righteous because the very existence of the external law-giver cannot even be doubted. “Moral rules are indeed observed, but they are severed from the inward disposition, the heart, by being represented as the commandments of an external lawgiver. . . . What is done is done not because it is good and right, but because it is commanded by God. The inherent quality of the deed is indifferent; whatever God commands is right.”[18] The severing is dependent on the belief in God’s existence as an external object or being. To be sure, Feuerbach seems to have missed Paul’s dictum, “Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.”[19] Yet a willing heart may embolden the moral certainty that is all too permissive of the sort of blind-spot that can seek in an atrocity or two. Even if God is taken as idealized, unlimited human feeling as Feuerbach urges, such a conception of God can be subject to the sort of religious rationalizations that can twist moral systems into accommodating atrocities under religious auspices.

What if such rationalizations pertain, moreover, to the nature of faith itself? What if atrocities are fallout stemming from faith itself, as a phenomenon in its own right? In his visit to Cairo, Egypt at the end of April, 2017, the Roman Catholic Pope Francis said, “Peace alone is holy and no act of violence can be perpetrated in the name of religion or in the name of God. Together, let us affirm the incompatibility of violence and faith, belief and hatred.”[20] Beyond treating belief and faith as synonymous, Pope Francis assumes that hatred and violence are extrinsic to the nature of faith. This is the common view.

Yet Feuerbach sees a more intricate structure in the nature of faith itself. Within it “lies a malignant principle.”[21] Within the faithful, say a congregation, the partisan nature of faith is obscured by the unity of the faithful. The prejudiced nature of faith—its “(d)ogmatic, exclusive, scrupulous particularly”—does not play out among the faithful, except as it cuts off part of itself as heretics.[22]

Hence in Christianity, it is Christian faith that “is the ultimate ground” of the persecution of heretics.[23] Fear, Feuerbach claims, “is why Christians wish ‘godless’ unbelievers every known calamity, and why, purely out of Christian love and solicitude . . . they experience the utmost pleasure when a misfortune befalls the godless, for they are convinced that trouble will bring them back to God and turn them into good believers.”[24] But even absent the fear, faith can trigger such malevolent hypocrisy because faith, even the Christian faith of universal benevolence, actually “recognizes man only on condition that he recognizes God.”[25] To the person who does not believe in the divine personality, religious hatred, it should be admitted, comes naturally, eclipsing even “universalistic” Christian neighbor-love. Far from being universally applicable, love gives way only within the confines of the faithful. “He is not for Christ is against him; that which is not christian is antichristian.”[26] It would be to dishonor God to love those who dishonor God. “Hence faith has fellowship with believers only; unbelievers it rejects. It is well-disposed towards believers, but ill-disposed towards unbelievers.”[27] Hence Luther declares, “What I cannot love with God, I must hate; if they only preach something which is against God, all love and friendship is destroyed;—thereupon I hate thee, and do thee no good. For faith must be uppermost, and where the word of God is attacked, hate takes the place of love.”[28] Yet does not hate actually attack a deity which Augustine points out is love itself? Even so, Luther insists, “Rather than God’s word should fall and heresy stand, faith would wish all creatures to be destroyed; for through heresy men lose God himself.”[29] Is it not rather through hatred though? That even a faith of love admits so readily of partiality and thus of hatred suggests that malevolence enjoys a place at the table of faith, eclipsing morality at times altogether. Therefore, a religious faith not only allows for atrocities; faith itself may provoke religionists to partake, even with a clean conscience.

 





1. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 202.


2. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 203.


3. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 208.


4. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 208.


5. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 208.


6. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 226.


7. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 207.


8. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 207.


9. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 202.


10. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 206.


11. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 204.


12. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 205.


13. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 207.


14. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 206.


15. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 206.


16. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 206.


17. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 207.


18. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 209.


19. 2 Cor. 9:7.


20. Francis X. Rocca, “In Egypt, Pope Decries Religious Violence,” The Wall Street Journal, April 29-30, 2017.


21. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957), 252


22. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957), 251.


23. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 321.


24.  Ludwig Feuerbach, Lectures on the Essence of Religion, Ralph Manheim, trans. (New York: Harper & Row, 1967), 28.
25. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 321.


26. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 251.


27. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 252.


28. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 325.


29. Ludwig Feuerbach, The Essence of Christianity (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957): 325.