Logos; God's Reason - His infinite Goodness in All Matters

Logos (Greek) is to me the most important term in philosophy and religion. It derives from the verb to count, tell, say, or speak (a truth or fact). The primary meaning of logos is: something said; by implication a subject, topic of discourse, or reasoning. Secondary meanings such as logic, reasoning, etc. derive from the fact that if one is capable of intelligence and reason are assumed. Its semantic field extends beyond to include the word "logic". The Gospel of John identifies Jesus as the incarnation of the Logos; supreme Truth and Reason. I’ve always been fascinated when sermons use John’s ‘In the beginning was logos and logos was with God’ … It surprises me that so few preachers clarify or define that at the heart of logos is the mind of God, the centre of all reason and logic.

Two months ago today my life turned upside down! All sense of logic and reasoning was lost in a matter of minutes. I suffered a stroke and the final results are still not known. At first I was told I had suffered a slight stroke and a few days later I was advised that there might be some permanent damage to the left side (loss of movement in my arm and leg and partial paralysis of my facial muscles) Two weeks later, following a brain scan, came the news that it was a massive stroke and I heard hushed voices suggesting that I would never walk again.

The first few days subsequent to the stroke brought the inevitable question, ‘Why me God’? Someone of a different background or faith might have asked ‘Is there a God’?. For me, being in a stroke ward with some 50 or 60 other victims, the majority unable to move or communicate, it became more a matter of thanking God that I still had partial mobility and only a slightly slurred speech. I was surrounded by a host of supportive Christian friends and bombarded by e-mails from family and friends from near and far. It was then that I moved into a private intellectual and spiritual world of reflection and determined that no-one but God and I would decide my fate.

Jacob Needleman, a favorite Judeo-Christian philosopher whose writing was introduced to me while an undergraduate student, has written a great deal about ‘remembering …One of the notions that he introduced in his book, The Heart of Philosophy, is that true philosophy involves a kind of agonizing, or’remembering’ -- it has to do with the dual nature of man -- that part of us is here in this physical body, in this three-dimensional world, and another part of us partakes of the infinite, of the absolute, of the Platonic or spiritual realms. The fact that we have these two parts to us creates an inescapable tension. And real philosophy is in effect understanding this and really beginning to deal with it. Needleman says we're creatures in two worlds -- the world beyond this one, and the one presently experienced. And Socrates' understanding of philosophy is one of the ways to help us remember, feel, hear the call of something in us that is from a much greater reality. It's what he called ‘remembering’ -- It helps us to remember that there's something much greater in ourselves. It's a kind of suffering, but it's creative suffering. It’s what the existential philosophers write about a lot – angst.

I have known very few people personally who have suffered a stroke… it was a distant experience. Now it’s up close and personal- I have suddenly become an existentialist philosopher! However, as Needleman points out, ‘you don't get the sense of great hope with the existentialists, at least some of them. You don't get the sense that there really is a deeper, higher reality. With much of what we call existentialism -- the sense that we are human beings poured like metaphysical freaks, cast adrift in a meaningless universe, and suffering this weird thing called freedom.’

Needleman is speaking about a vision of human nature that truly says there is meaning, great meaning, inside us and outside of us too. And, the suffering is that, we feel it exists, but we're out of contact with it, and we need to find a way to open to it. It's not exactly existentialism.’…’Basically the great traditions have always taught that there is something in us which is godlike, and that there is an inherent joy within us; and that yes, like the Buddhists say, you already are the Buddha; or like the Christians say, Christ has already forgiven you, the kingdom has already appeared. But that doesn't mean we are in touch with it. Those who are, have a very deeply well earned joyousness. But those who just take it as an idea, and as something attractive emotionally may make it look foolish. It can become a very foolish thing, where somebody is saying everything is just fine while the house is burning.

We rebuild ourselves partly by becoming freer from the commentary, so that we can take in the nourishment of real experiences, such as playing with my grand daughter Kaja, on her 6th birthday this week, which is a kind of nourishment of what used to be called the soul, but we don't have a name for it now. If we're willing to accept the suffering that comes from having our opinions challenged. We need to learn to welcome that. That's part of the beginning of true inquiry. We have a term, it's called enlightenment. In the eighteenth century it referred to a kind of rationality which was really in touch with reality. And then we see it in the spiritual traditions, referring to, I guess, a form of consciousness which is in touch with a higher reality. I see that there is a joining there.of being.This is the ultimate purpose of our lives; if the ultimate purpose of human life is to become attuned to this “greater” we're speaking about, then of course every discipline in one way or the other has to contribute to that.’

It was in the building of those ‘remembering experiences’ that my faith for each day and the future rested. I practiced the various calisthenics that the physiotherapist said would make me stronger, at night in the privacy of my hospital room, and during the day I would sneak into the physio-therapy room and practice knee bends, raising myself to full height from my wheel chair, and practicing balancing my weight equally on both legs and feet and yes, I fell more often than I would like to admit; such is life when a part of a stubborn determined spirit! But, it was a combination of the daily physiotherapist sessions coupled with my own private workouts that resulted in Alex, the chief therapist at the rehab center stating when I was discharged two weeks ago, that my progress was nothing short of remarkable; another of the physical therapists called it incredible. Would it be fair to call it a miracle? The answer is pure and simply ‘no’. The miracle lies in all of the moments throughout my life when His grace has inspired, sustained or given me fresh hope, as He does to this day. It would be a slap in God’s face to give up and surrender to something as silly and inconsequential as a possibly passing physical impairment. I was challenged instead to ‘remember’ the goodness of God

"The Lord is GOOD, a strong hold in the day of trouble; and he knoweth them that trust in him." (Nahum 1:7) God's goodness is made visible in what He does for His people. In the passage above the goodness of the Lord is noted for His protecting His people and knowing those who trust Him. God's goodness is not just a theological fact but it is something that can be personally experienced and consequently ‘remembered’.

"How great is your GOODNESS! You have stored it up for those who fear you. You do GOOD THINGS for those who TRUST you. You do this for all to see." (Ps. 31:19 God's goodness is not just a theological truth; ‘Logos’, it is something that is to be experienced. Remembered and shared, "O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good: for his mercy endureth forever."