I believe in the importance of not foreclosing on a set belief system about life. I love Jung, Rumi, Taoist, and Buddhist ideas. I find the reduction of the mystery of existence down to an all inclusive narrative, including Atheism, failing to match my experience. No foreclosure for me.
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I have found Jung’s book Memories, Dreams, and Reflections on line for free. What a find! Here is the link as well as a story from Jung’s youth:
http://arthursbookshelf.com/other-stuff/philos/Memories,%20Dreams,%20Reflections%20-%20Carl%20Jung.pdfOne fine summer day that same year I came out of school at noon
and went to the cathedral square. The sky was gloriously blue, the
day one of radiant sunshine. The roof of the cathedral glittered, the
sun sparkling from the new, brightly glazed tiles. I was overwhelmed
by the beauty of the sight, and thought:
"The world is beautiful and the church is beautiful, and God made all
this and sits above it far away in the blue sky on a golden throne
and..." Here came a great hole in my thoughts, and a choking
sensation. I felt numbed, and knew only: "Don't go on thinking now!
Something terrible is coming, something I do not want to think,
something I dare not even approach. Why not? Because I would be
committing the most frightful of sins. What is the most terrible sin?
Murder? No, it can't be that. The most terrible sin is the sin against
the Holy Ghost, which cannot be forgiven. Anyone who commits that
sin is damned to hell for all eternity. That would be very sad for my
parents, if their only son, to whom they are so attached, should be
doomed to eternal damnation. I cannot do that to my parents. All I
need do is not go on thinking."
That was easier said than done. On my long walk home I tried to
think all sorts of other things, but I found my thoughts returning again
and again to the beautiful cathedral which I loved so much, and to
God sitting on the throne--and then my thoughts would fly off again
as if they had received a powerful electric shock. I kept repeating to
myself: "Don't think of it, just don't think of itI" I reached home in a
pretty worked-up state. My mother noticed that something was
wrong, and asked, "What is the matter with you? Has something
happened at school?" I was able to assure her, without lying, that
nothing had happened at school. I did have the thought that it might
help me if I could confess to my mother the real reason for my
turmoil. But to do so I would have to do the very thing that seemed
impossible: think my thought right to the end. The poor dear was
utterly unsuspecting and could not possibly know that I was in
terrible danger of committing the unforgivable sin and plunging
myself into hell. I rejected the idea of confessing and tried to efface
myself as much as possible. That night I slept badly; again and
again the forbidden thought, which I did not yet know, tried to break
out, and I struggled desperately to fend it off. The next two days
were sheer torture, and my mother was convinced that I was ill. But I
resisted the temptation to confess, aided by the thought that it
would cause my parents intense sorrow.
On the third night, however, the torment became so unbearable that
I no longer knew what to do. I awoke from a restless sleep just in
time to catch myself thinking again about the cathedral and God. I
had almost continued the thought! I felt my resistance weakening.
Sweating with fear, I sat up in bed to shake off sleep. "Now it is
coming, now--it's serious! I must think. It must be thought out
beforehand. Why should I think something I do not know? I don't
want to, by God, that's sure. But who wants me to? Who wants to
force me to think something I don't know and don't want to know?
Where does this terrible will come from? And why should I be the
one to be subjected to it? I was thinking praises of the Creator of
this beautiful world, I was grateful to him for this immeasurable gift,
so why should I have to think something inconceivably wicked? I
don't know what it is, I really don't, for I cannot and must not come
anywhere near this thought, for that would be to risk thinking it at
once. I haven't done this or wanted this, it has come on me like a
bad dream. Where do such things come from? This has happened
to me without my doing. Why? After all, I didn't create myself, I came
into the world the way God made me--that is, the way I was shaped
by my parents. Or can it have been that my parents wanted
something of this sort? But my good parents would never have had
any thoughts like that. Nothing so atrocious would ever have
occurred to them."
I found this idea utterly absurd. Then I thought of my grandparents,
whom I knew only from their portraits. They looked benevolent and
dignified enough to repulse any idea that they might possibly be to
blame. I mentally ran through the long procession of unknown
ancestors until finally I arrived at Adam and Eve. And with them
came the decisive thought: Adam and Eve were the first people;
they had no parents, but were created directly by God, who
intentionally made them as they were. They had no choice but to be
exactly the way God had created them. Therefore they did not know
how they could possibly be different. They were perfect creatures of
God, for He creates only perfection, and yet they committed the first
sin by doing what God did not want them to do. How was that
possible? They could not have done it if God had not placed in
them the possibility of doing it. That was clear, too, from the
serpent, whom God had created before them, obviously so that it
could induce Adam and Eve to sin. God in His omniscience had
arranged everything so that the first parents would have to sin.
Therefore it was God' s intention that they should sin. This thought
liberated me instantly from my worst torment, since I now knew that
God Himself had placed me in this situation. At first I did not know
whether He intended me to commit my sin or not. I no longer thought
of praying for illumination, since God had landed me in this fix
without my willing it and had left me without any help. I was certain
that I must search out His intention myself, and seek the way out
alone. At this point another argument began. "What does God
want? To act or not to act? I must find out what God wants with me,
and I must find out right away."
I was aware, of course, that according to conventional morality there
was no question but that sin must be avoided. That was what I had
been doing up to now, but I knew I could not go on doing it. My
broken sleep and my spiritual distress had worn me out to such a
point that fending off the thought was tying me into unbearable
knots. This could not go on. At the same time, I could not yield
before I understood what God's will was and what He intended. For
I was now certain that He was the author of this desperate problem.
Oddly enough, I did not think for a moment that the devil might be
playing a trick on me. The devil played little part in my mental world
at that time, and in any case I regarded him as powerless
compared with God. But from the moment I emerged from the mist
and became conscious of myself, the unity, the greatness, and the
superhuman majesty of God began to haunt my imagination. Hence
there was no question in my mind but that God Himself was
arranging a decisive test for me, and that everything depended on
my understanding Him correctly. I knew, beyond a doubt, that I
would ultimately be compelled to break down, to give way, but I did
not want it to happen without my understanding it, since the
salvation of my eternal soul was at stake.
"God knows that I cannot resist much longer, and He does not help
me, although I am on the point of having to commit the unforgivable
sin. In His omnipotence He could easily lift this compulsion from me,
but evidently He is not going to. Can it be that He wishes to test my
obedience by imposing on me the unusual task of doing something
against my own moral judgment and against the teachings of my
religion, and even against His own commandment, something I am
resisting with all my strength because I fear eternal damnation? Is it
possible that God wishes to see whether I am capable of obeying
His will even though my faith and my reason raise before me the
specters of death and hell? That might really be the answer! But
these are merely my own thoughts. I may be mistaken. I dare not
trust my own reasoning as far as that. I must think it all through once
more."
I thought it over again and arrived at the same conclusion.
"Obviously God also desires me to show courage," I thought. "If that
is so and I go through with it, then He will give me His grace and
illumination?
I gathered all my courage, as though I were about to leap forthwith
into hell-fire, and let the thought come. I saw before me the
cathedral, the blue sky. God sits on His golden throne, high above
the world--and from under the throne an enormous turd falls upon
the sparkling new roof, shatters it, and breaks the walls of the
cathedral asunder.