A Dissonant Faith: The Reconciliation of Observable Ethics and Spiritual Intuition in Latter-day Saint Theology
“There is no such thing as immaterial matter. All spirit is matter, but it is more fine or pure, and can only be discerned by purer eyes; We cannot see it, but when our bodies are purified, we shall see that it is all matter” (Doctrine and Covenants 131:7-8).
The above quote implies something about the nature of reality that has been discussed by physicists and philosophers alike. What Joseph Smith claimed in this brief statement - which will act as a catalyst for my thoughts as opposed to an authoritative justification of them - is that the physical and metaphysical worlds are inseparably connected. Furthermore, we can assume that spiritual matter works in tandem with and builds upon physical matter. When discerned by “purer” eyes, there exists no opposition or separation between them as “all spirit is matter.”
One LDS scholar, Stephen E. Robinson, explained it this way:
Latter-day Saints reject the Platonic spirit-matter dichotomy, which holds that spirit and matter are opposed and inimical to each other. They believe instead that spirit is refined matter and that both spirit and matter are eternal, being neither created nor destroyed…Thus, for Latter-day Saints, there is no ultimate incompatibility between spirit and matter or between the spiritual and the physical realms.
Thus both spiritual and temporal realities may be termed matter, but each possesses differing characteristics that thereby dictate different methodologies of discernment. I would postulate that truth should be defined as the complete reconciliation of those differences. In simpler terms, truth is matter and may be properly discerned through a combination of both empirical and metaphysical realities.
Most members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are familiar with the doctrinal concept that every person is born into the world with physical bodies and eternal spirits. As part of this, members are taught that after death and through Christ’s power, everyone will rise from the dead, “their spirits uniting with their bodies, never to be divided” (The Book of Mormon, Alma 11:45). I will use a brief anecdote from personal experience to illustrate how this directly relates to the search for truth.
Often, when teaching the concept of resurrection to individuals of a different faith, missionaries will use pictures or small paper cut-outs to explain. I remember during one lesson, my companion handed me a paper cut-out of a human body. She then handed me a see-through plastic cut out of the same form. As I held the two pieces in my hands and practiced separating and uniting the two parts, it occurred to me that if our doctrine held that the physical body and the eternal spirit could not progress as separate entities, then the same could likely be applied to reason and faith in the search for truth.
Both human rationality and metaphysical or faith-based methodologies are required for the progression - or I might say - transcendence of the human soul. Any separation itself might be termed an illusion and the attempt to try and isolate and compartmentalize reality in this way would define delusion or self-deception. In other words, the empirical, observable world alone - the “seen” matter - does not supply a sufficient explanation of truth or reality. However, neither does the metaphysical “unseen” matter offer a complete explanation on its own. In effect, the necessary unification of body and spirit acts as an allegory of the need to seek and reconcile truths in both the empirical and metaphysical realms. To rely on only one source would be to embrace, in a sense, only half of the world.
Skepticism & Faith
There is in the above assumptions a merging of two fields that appear to be in opposition but in practice may complement and balance one another - philosophical skepticism and faith.
By definition from canonical scripture, the principle of faith means that one does not have “perfect knowledge.” Rather, it is to “hope for things which are not seen, which are true.” This is yet another reference to the idea of the “unseen” as a reality not uniformly accessible by empirical means. This relationship between faith and the unseen will be expounded on later, but the point is that faith implies “not knowing” or “not knowing yet” and therefore choosing a path without certainty. In essence, faith is meaningless in the absence of doubt.
This principle of uncertainty was well understood by the philosophical skeptics of the Enlightenment era. They may not have advocated for a spiritual faith-based antidote, perhaps, but they did argue for the need to embrace ignorance. For Nihilists like Nietsche, this represented a sort of existential meaninglessness. By rejecting the “unseen” world and hyper-fixating on the verifiability of the “seen” world, Nihilists concluded that nothing could be proven and therefore nothing could be known or accepted as certain. A well-known phrase among Nihilist philosophers is that all values are baseless and reason is impotent.
To avoid such a meaningless void, other philosophers decided on a “mitigated skepticism,” which postulated that while human reason was too fallible for existential certainty, one could at least find practical or functional uses for their assumptions. These mitigated skeptics still questioned truth claims, moral conclusions, and the validity of inductive reasoning, but they also acknowledged the pragmatic gains from observing and measuring the physical world.
A prime example of this may be found in the world of physics. For years Newton's Law of Gravity was the prevailing theory of mechanics. However, it was ultimately replaced by Einstein’s general theory of relativity. In addressing the differences between the two theories, Einstein himself stated, “quantitatively [the theory of relativity] made little modification in Newton's theory, but qualitatively a deep-seated one.” Newton’s law of gravity worked functionally - or was at least approximate enough to reality - when objects moved at speeds lower than the speed of light. Since these are the conditions on Earth, any quantitative differences were negligible. Thus society has continued to rely on Newton’s laws functionally, even though they attempt to predict something not valid experimentally.
In a session of General Conference addressed to members of the Latter-day Saint community, President Boyd K. Packer once told the story of a teacher trying to help his class understand what it meant to theorize or speak theoretically. The teacher asked this question: “‘If you take a letter half the distance to a mailbox and stop, then start over going half the remaining distance and stop, then repeat the process over and over, theoretically will you ever really get to the mailbox?’ One bright student said, ‘No, but you’ll get close enough to mail the letter.’”
This is how, in the absence of absolute knowledge or certainty, humanity has tended to function - to rely on the practical, the measurable, the empirical, and the physical. It’s an extension of the senses that might be termed one’s best efforts, or “close enough,” to ascertain aspects of reality even if they ultimately fall short - as in the case of Newton’s Law of Gravity.
Some work quite comfortably in this absence of certainty because their areas of interest do not seek to explore beyond what is naturally observable. But it does beg the question of what, if anything, is certain. That was the question that haunted the skeptics.
David Hume - Observable Ethics
David Hume, the philosopher most closely associated with mitigated skepticism, attempted to work around this question by delineating ways of knowing into two categories: relations of ideas vs matters of fact. Put simply, relations of ideas are based on associations or correlations that do not speak to the distinct nature (temporal or eternal) of what exists. Rather, they demonstrate only what is correlated or associated between objects. For Hume, relations of ideas include geometry, mathematics, or deductive logic not dependent on human experience. The purpose of this knowledge was purely functional, not existential. Relations of ideas could not definitively answer moral or ethical questions, but it might provide some utility in man’s pursuit of material progress. Its certainty was limited to the relational scope of its individual proof or formula.
Matters of Fact - refers to everything else, particularly our subjective impressions of the world. However, the contrary of every matter of fact is still possible because we can conceive of things being different than they are. In other words, there is no certainty in this realm. Hume rejected the certainty of sensory experiences and of cause and effect. Putting the two ideas together we have the notion that while one cannot prove causation they can observe correlation. This was similar to the conclusion of the Nihilists, except that Hume believed we could still rely on relations of ideas and these correlated assumptions for the sake of functionality as long as they remained within their predetermined relational scope.
The morality that was eventually derived from this era of “skeptical” enlightenment included elements of both philosophical egoism and utilitarianism - an attempt to define ethical standards based on measurable, temporal realities such as maximizing pleasure and minimizing pain. It must be understood, however, that this was not embraced as a moral certainty - far from it. It was instead viewed as a temporal necessity due to the escapable absence of certainty. If skeptics wanted to avoid the baseless impotence of the Nihilists, some compromises had to be made. The merging of empiricism with ethics (a pattern that continues to be utilized in political studies today) stemmed from the skepticism and pragmatism of those who did not believe in the verifiability of the seen or unseen worlds, but still wanted to maintain an ordered ethical society.
Philosophical egoism was simply a way to convert ignorance into functional utility. This included both self-preservation and survivalism as basic tenets. However, the dependence on observable ethics was not intended to be ontological. Egoism speaks to the measurable world as it currently is, rather than to what it could or should be based on the possibility of higher truths derived from the “unseen” world. In short, left to itself, philosophical egoism still failed to answer the question of what, if anything, is morally certain.
That is to say nothing of the inherent functional complexities that also arise when such limited ethical guidelines are applied in the everyday conflicts of interest that have defined humanity for millennia: racism, bigotry, trauma, abuse, victimization, healing, forgiveness, loss, grief, and love. The nuance and depth behind these terms and their practical applications in the real world are difficult to deconstruct, comprehend, or even resolve through measurable, empirical means alone. Understanding the existential meaning of love, for example, through purely correlated data is a difficult business.
This highlights an important problem that deals with the inappropriate application of certain epistemologies, rather than the existence of them. Consider the following premises that speak to Hume’s definition of relations of ideas.
First, it would be a fallacy to assume the totality of knowledge based on one singular epistemology (i.e. empirical studies are the only reliable source of information about human nature). Second, it would also be a fallacy to misapply a methodological framework on a subject it cannot accurately encapsulate (I will apply the scientific method to understand the nature of God/I will rely on mysticism to design an airplane).
Let’s utilize an example to illustrate the first problem. Consider the following logical proof:
If all squares are rectangles and Object A is a square, then we know that Object A is also a rectangle.
This is a principle of comparison or association. Without speaking to the existential nature of Object A, it still allows us to classify and organize objects.
Of course, one might ask “what is a square?” which seems simple enough by previously established definitions, but if we apply this proof to less than certain statements on human nature, the problem becomes clear:
All humans have an inherent right to life. Jack is a human. Therefore, Jack has an inherent right to life.
A philosopher might wonder why humans have an inherent right to life, but a practical, empirical ruler might instead question the second premise: Is Jack a human? What, exactly, are the empirical parameters of human life? The question suddenly becomes critical for understanding the right to life. In the process, the metaphysical first premise - who or what deserves to live (or even what is the meaning of life) - is lost in an empirical echo chamber. The proof can’t answer that question because it only explores correlated, predefined objects.
This is not an extreme example. History is replete with disturbing cases in point, in which oppressors, dictators, and others have intentionally called into question, “what is human?” as a means to justify behavior and ignore the actual metaphysical moral question in play. To complicate things further, we could insert female, male, black, white, unborn, born, old, young or any number of classifications or stereotypes into the proof by which we grant or deny certain rights and privileges to some over others by stretching or compressing the definitions of such terms. Add to this chaos postmodern deconstructionism and the proof shatters completely in the absence of any predefined terms.
The proof is broken because the method itself is flawed. A simple logical proof cannot provide certainty beyond its own limited, relational scope. Other empirical methods are similar. Data is just that data - it doesn’t determine or define anything on its own. Rather it is human interpretation and human analysis that provides us with meaning, albeit imperfectly due to the imperfect nature of the humans conducting the study.
It is not the point here to say that flawed or limited epistemologies have no purpose, but rather to demonstrate that they are just that - imperfect. Therefore, by its own standard, it would be a fallacy to rely on such epistemologies for a certainty that they cannot and do not promise. Worse yet, would be to utilize such limited methods to redefine the value or intelligence of those who question their veracity in situations where they have overstepped the scope of their studies or the natural limitations inherent in such studies.
This human fallibility does not necessarily leave us hopeless in the search for truth. The initial quote from Joseph Smith suggests that knowledge exists beyond the merely observable, and is accessible when one also turns to metaphysical approaches that look beyond reason. While he does not explain how one might gain those refined “purer eyes,” the implication is that such a vision would enhance what we observe temporally and ultimately expound upon and complete it. The idea that there is no “immaterial matter” suggests the existence of unseen material realities that shape our understanding of truth. In short, metaphysical studies might amplify our vision by focusing on discerning the true matters of fact behind the empirical, correlated relations of ideas. However, both metaphysical and empirical epistemologies must be kept in balance in order for such a uniform principle of truth to function spiritually and materially. The objective would be to bring together in one all realities from both the unseen and seen world.
Metaphysical Realities - The “unseen” world
Metaphysics deals primarily with the less-than-observable world (literally meaning “after the things of nature”), and speaks to the existential or fundamental nature of reality, including identity, aesthetics, space, time, and even spirituality. Truth is still viewed as accessible, but it may not be fully understood through empiricism, logic, or sensory experiences alone. Thus the methods for discerning metaphysical realities differ significantly from those used by empiricists.
Important to our point is that metaphysics embraces an inherent uncertainty when it comes to observed realities. In other words, it embraces doubt as part of human frailty. But this doubt is not viewed as a destination. It is not nihilistic. Rather, it is a stepping stone. One might say, and this will be referred to later, that metaphysics opens the door to a more realistic faith or spirituality. One that centers itself around seeking truth beyond limited human rationalism.
In short, rather than embrace temporal realities in the absence of certainty, metaphysics embraces uncertainty by recognizing the temporal nature of practical realities. It opens itself to the world of intuition and exploration as part of the constant struggle to transcend human frailty. It isn’t enough to observe with temporal eyes alone, so one must seek a more refined vision.
In this way, it is easy to see how faith-based methodologies, including spirituality, intuition, and revelation should not claim any inherent certainty. Rather such methods indicate the pursuit of knowledge whose progression relies on first accepting limitations and then seeking combined methods for transcending them. Faith first builds upon and then seeks to move beyond the empirical “seen” world. You might say it works to discover truth not by denying correlated realities, but by continuing to ask the existential questions unanswered by those observable correlations. In this way, faith is not a destination or indicative of certainty. Rather it is a process of seeking.
Consider this statement by Liz Wiseman:
“Yes, the Glory of God is intelligence, but it is in seeking, not knowing, that we find truth. In that space is where we discover the true glory of God.”
Notice the focus on the journey here. It implies that the only way to truly transcend mortality comes not by following a codified rulebook to a predetermined destination, but in participating in a process of transformational learning. Again, this does not mean that there is no absolute, eternal truth, but rather that such truth is only obtainable through a progressive combination of both temporal and metaphysical experiences - spiritual learning that first builds upon and then looks beyond the practical and currently observable.
This is why metaphysical sources of epistemology - such as revelation and spiritual intuition - are so critical to human development. This is how the things we cannot see become the catalyst for growth or transcendence - even perfection. And that, in a crude, philosophical, sort of way, is the very meaning of faith. It is the effort to reconciling the seen and unseen worlds in the pursuit of transcendent, holistic truth.
As noted previously, metaphysics and reason must remain in balance. Attempts to try and deny one or the other source of knowledge would be to seek a holistic reality through an incomplete, jaded lens. Faith must be tied to reason in order to complete and amplify it. It would not make sense to try and transcend the mortal experience by simply denying it.
This also speaks to the relational, relative nature of truth in that it may be accessible only when contextualized as a collaborative journey that seeks to gather and unify experiences rather than isolate or merely deconstruct them. Thus self-deception would be most likely to occur when one seeks to break down and separate, rather than reconcile, the unseen and seen worlds.
However, this delicate dissonance is difficult to balance properly, and its misapplication - like any reason-based methodology - can create functional problems that miss the mark and disrupt the process of truth-seeking. I will mention here just one potential area of miscommunication that seems to have amplified problems among members of the Church.
Codifying Spirituality
There is a tendency for some to try and utilize empirical reasoning to justify and codify spiritual experiences. So much so that the phrase “spiritual experience” seems to indicate an exact, replicable scientific method of faith rather than a metaphysical experience that touches the divine within us, connects us to Godly realities not seen, is deeply personalized, and transcends the natural world.
Empirical reasoning, as mentioned before, is merely about the relation of ideas. Its greatest strength - albeit not a source of sure truth - is its measurement of correlation. There indeed may exist certain patterns that seem to lead to certain results - not causally but observably. Members are taught, for example, that consistent scripture study, prayer, and attending church meetings will lead one closer to God or make one happy. But even if we were to create a regression model and derive that such specifications were statistically significant, this would not offer a good explanation to those outliers who are still expected to become like God. What would such a study even mean by “closer to God'' or “find happiness?” It also would not supply an all-inclusive understanding as to why such a correlation exists. We might make some educated guesses, but the statistical data would not offer a reliable explanation on its own. When we formulize elements of the gospel in a purely observable, measurable way, we create significant gaps in our understanding of truth - particularly the relational aspect that binds one to God while offering a non-empirical explanation for why anyone would seek a connection in the first place.
In other words, data might suggest that one must study scriptures daily to be happy or be closer to God without supplying a good reason for why and how such outcomes are possible or even desirable. It speaks only to the correlated nature of commandments as opposed to the existential nature of one’s relationship to Deity and the potential progress of the human soul through that relationship. When we define commandments in such a limited way, then we also delegitimize or restrict one’s spirituality based on those same formulaic standards. When one obeys all the commandments, for example, and then loses a child or faces suffering - questions arise about the true nature of the formula. This may lead to an unnecessary spiritual dissonance since the true crux of the issue is that empirical correlation was never an indicator of ertainty.
Theatrical, practical apologetics might then be put into play to first define the terms (“happy” and “peace”) and then to try and explain why one who followed the prescribed behaviors somehow did not reach the expected results. Theories about human suffering and our relationship with God are then created and often utilized to try and defend the formula as opposed to looking beyond it toward a more transcendent reality. In this way, some might try to materialize God and make him subject to limited human reason. But this only leads to the same pitfalls previously outlined about empiricism. It is incomplete and fallible. Our understanding of God would then also be incomplete and fallible with no chance for growth until we break from the formula and seek to “see” God and develop a relationship with him that transcends the merely observable.
In other words, there may be a multiplicity of reasons behind one’s suffering, but correlated observations will never provide causal certainty. To depend on empirical, formulaic obedience alone would shortchange our ability to grow through seeking and communicating with God. In this way, rather than obedience being a tool for metaphysical growth, it becomes an end in itself. In that context, faith becomes obsolete.
Unfortunately, this is often how the doctrine of obedience is understood. Due to this, any failure in the spiritual formula and the accompanying dissonance naturally leads some to doubt. As mentioned before, doubt is a natural outcome of human fallibility and often acts as a stepping stone to further seeking. But if the Church is perceived as being based on certainties alone and does not encourage faith-based questioning when faced with dissonance, then any natural recognition of doubt may lead one to leave the Church altogether. This is unfortunate because it should be the dissonant recognition of one’s own ignorance that opens the door to metaphysical and spiritual seeking. It should lend itself to an enhanced spiritual understanding of obedience as a tool for connection rather than an empirical end in itself. Reconciliation and harmony of the seen and unseen material worlds requires this first step.
In effect, each faith journey begins with doubt and a desire to transcend it. This relies on seeking to understand one’s relationship with Deity and one’s own existential nature. It depends upon observable realities being reconciled with “unseen” metaphysical experiences and speaks to the transcendent and true nature of the soul. This is where revelation and spiritual intuition come into play. They move beyond a simple formula and speak to the interconnectedness of the human experience - both seen and unseen. Relationships are the key to this connection.
Revelation - Collaborative Seeking
As noted previously, faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things. In a beautiful declaration often quoted among members of the Church, the Book of Mormon prophet Mormon pointed out that “all things must fail,” including faith. Once we obtain absolute certainty, both faith and hope no longer serve a purpose. However, the prophet also noted that “charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever.” This implies that certainty and charity continue to co-exist. Another essay might insightfully and productively explore the relationship between knowledge and love, empathy, or compassion. Here, we will simply scratch the surface by suggesting that truth comes through a process of reconciliation and collaboration - in this case of the seen and unseen worlds. Revelation plays a crucial role in this process and highlights the importance of relationships in the search for truth.
In the world of philosophy, one common epistemology is based on authority. This is the idea that we can ascertain truth by accepting the words of authority figures. In some ways, this is natural. We rely on the words of subject matter experts daily to help fill the gaps of our own ignorance. I think in some ways it is this authority-based learning that motivates many church members' desire to receive revelation. The expectation or hope seems to be that God will remove all doubt - and therefore the need for faith - by revealing certain truths. While certainly possible, this may convince some church members that they do not live in a world of uncertainty that requires constant discernment. That premature supposition may in turn stunt their growth and ability to progress. Instead, if we were to apply Hume’s definitions again, we might define revelation not as an opportunity for God to simply convey basic material facts, but rather to encourage agency and discovery through a safe, trusted relationship. Through revelation and the ability to communicate with God, we increase our capacity to reconcile the unseen and seen worlds through communication, co-creation, and collaboration. In the end, revelation is at its core a conversation.
I take inspiration from The Book of Mormon account in the Book of Ether. In Chapter 2, the Brother of Jared was chastised by the Lord for having forgotten to pray or communicate with God for several years. What follows is a series of conversations and actions in which the Lord and the Brother of Jared problem-solve over how to build effective barges that will be able to cross the ocean. When the Brother of Jared points out that there would be no light in the tight boats, the Lord merely responds with a question:
“What will ye that I should do that ye may have light in your vessel?”
It seems as if that were the end of the conversation because we do not get any more account of their communication until the brother of Jared returns with sixteen stones and asks the Lord to touch them and make them shine in darkness - believing that God might do it even without any particularly empirical evidence that such a feat was even possible. His solution required a miracle. Not only does the Lord comply, but when he touches the stones, the Brother of Jared sees the Lord’s finger and discovers that man was made in God’s image. God was not merely a spirit. After another brief back-and-forth conversation, the Lord allows the brother of Jared to fully see him as he would “appear unto my people in the flesh.”
Of note in this account is the conversational, collaborative nature of this revelatory process. At times, the Lord seems content to merely instruct. At other times, to ask questions and wait for a response. It would be interesting to study the Lord’s question, “sawest thou more than this?” which seems to indicate something of the Lord’s own need for honest questions and authenticity in the process of discernment.
There is much that could be said about agency, co-creation, and collaboration in these chapters, but it is sufficient to our purpose to point out the centrality of communication. Even when the Lord was merely providing basic instructions, it was still intended to be a two-way conversation. It was a learning process based on a trusted relationship. At no point did the Lord seem interested in denying the Brother of Jared the opportunity to experience both the seen and unseen worlds for himself.
In the earlier stated logical proof, I made note of the danger of misapplying the wrong methodological framework on a subject it cannot encapsulate - such as relying on mysticism to build an airplane. Some might contend that revelation could indeed do such a thing. God could tell us how to build an airplane - or in the scriptural case a boat - through revelation. Such arguments seem to suggest that revelation could replace objective science, empirical studies, or material experiences in the “seen” world. While it certainly might be in the realm of an omniscient God to know and reveal all objective material realities to His children, to restrict the definition of “revelation” in such a way would miss the mark in the same way as empirically limited obedience. The Lord might just as well have placed a detailed blueprint outside of the Brother of Jared’s tent had the objective been to simply master the “seen” world through divine means. But clearly, that is not the purpose of revelation.
God’s omniscience is not intended to replace the need for human reason and mortal experience. On the contrary, it is requisite to first understand the seen world - as evidenced in the Brother of Jared’s proactive questions - before then allowing the Lord to augment human reason and help us discover higher, transcendent truths that incorporate both the empirical and metaphysical realms. Whether the Lord decides to reveal specific correlated or empirical realities in the process is less important than the experience that comes through communication with the Divine - a being described as both compassionate as well as all-knowing. Revelation allows us to explore and seek to reconcile seemingly opposing realities in a safe environment with a trusted partner. In this way, we begin to learn how to discern and discover truth for ourselves. The process of receiving revelation is more likely to shed light on the connection between faith and reason than to isolate or impose one over the other.
Conclusion:
There is a functional use for empiricism. And there is perhaps a similar reason for rules, laws, and commandments. But that is merely functional, not eternal. And if we were to assume, as ancient Israel did with the Law of Moses, that perfection is found in temporal, functional laws, then we would miss the means of our own exaltation - the divine means of transcendence that relies on creating a relationship with Deity, with others, and with ourselves. There is no other way or means outside of Christ in terms of elevating the human above the limited mortal experience. Thus if we rely on practical realities, empirical methods, and mortal laws alone, we end up trapping ourselves in a world of functional realities that cannot provide means to attain the divine within us. In other words, we miss the mark.
Likewise, if we were to rely exclusively on revelation without seeking, experimenting, and asking questions about the material world, then we would similarly trap ourselves in a metaphysical void, having sought “things which they cannot understand.” This was the weakness of the biblical Jews, who did not recognize Christ when he came. Their obsession with the “revealed” law as immutable (and cultural) made them miss the transcendent reality of Christ when he was standing in front of them. In short, I am not arguing against commandments or obedience but rather against a strict materializing or formulizing of such laws in a way that denies the effective seeking and questioning that is a crucial part of faith.
I believe the effort to seek the things we cannot see should be treated with reverence and respect as the indication of a soul seeking to connect with the divine. These efforts - perhaps with their correlated similarities and statistically significant results - will still be varied, deeply personal, and possibly not measurable. In many cases, they may not be explainable. The results may appear at times unreasonable - at least to finite mortal minds. But we have to create space for such spiritual seeking, metaphysical experiences, and divine conversational collaboration to occur honestly, purely, intentionally, and without any damning empirical standards that attempt to redefine faith as something strictly observable or measurable and therefore worthy of judgment.
To close, I will refer to a simple analogy told to me by a friend. In a theatrical play, the negative space (what is unseen) is considered just as important as the positive space (what is seen) and is therefore emphasized equally in the script. We would be wise to apply this same method to the process of spiritual learning.
It is in this negative space of faith where men and women may finally connect to and merge with the divine. That relationship is the catalyst for growth. It is with God that we find our purpose and fulfillment, the very measure of our creation. Faith is ultimately a process of seeking and discerning that aligns temporal realities and observable ethics with spiritual intuition and divine communication. The result of such seeking may one day be the refined, purer eyes that finally allow for spiritual and material certainty.
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