A philosopher journeys back to the mystics to learn how to live with uncertainty in the twenty-first century
How do we live when we don’t know what to believe, or who to believe, or how we could even know? In this deeply felt book, philosopher James K. A. Smith explores how radical uncertainty can be liberating, opening us to another way of being. The pain of his own profound uncertainty led Smith to a surprising source for modern the mystical experiences of St. Teresa of �vila, St. John of the Cross, and the author of The Cloud of Unknowing. These mystics testify to a deeper truth beneath distraction, anxiety, and love.
Drawing on ancient traditions of contemplation as well as on contemporary novels, poetry, film, and paintings, Smith speaks to the fundamental yearnings that persist in late modernity, including the philosophical quest for knowledge and certainty. He shows us how the gifts of the Christian contemplative tradition and the riches of creative works embody a liberating spirituality that recovers the fullness of being human.
In bringing a philosopher’s questions to the mystics, Smith brings a mystical heart back to philosophy.
Die Hauptdarsteller der Moderne wie René Descartes kämpften mit Zweifeln, während sie sich nach einem Zustand sehnten, in dem jeglicher Zweifel aus der Welt geschaffen wird. Descartes Experiment, die unbestreitbare Wahrheit zu entdecken und den Ängsten vor Unsicherheit und Dunkelheit zu entkommen, hat die westliche Vorstellungskraft seit Jahrhunderten vorangelebt. Während die meisten Menschen im Westen Descartes noch nie gelesen haben, leben sie instinktiv nach seiner epistemischen Regel: Unsicherheit macht uns unruhig, während sich Sicherheit wünschenswert anfühlt.
James K.A. Smith bietet eine andere Erzählung an, nämlich die, dass man sich im Dunklen zuhause fühlen sollte. Dafür bringt er Mystikerinnen und Mystiker ins Gespräch mit Kunstausstellungen, Filmen und seiner eigenen Biografie. Das Buch hat folglich einen persönlichen Ton, weshalb ich von einer Sterne Bewertung absehe. Im Buch geht es um Stille, Dunkelheit, Gottesbegegnung und eine „mystische Epistemologie“
James K.A. Smith is one of those authors that I will always read. Mainly because he is such a gifted author and thinker, but also because he always stretches me. This book is no exception. My mode of thinking was deeply challenged throughout this work. As a philosopher myself, I completely understand having to come to terms with the amount of uncertainty in the world. As I’ve gotten older, I have become more and more at peace with ubiquitous mystery. Smith’s book helped me think more deeply about that reality and how to apply more of the mystic tradition to my life. I especially loved the chapters on silence and solitude.
While it was helpful overall, there was a concerning line of reasoning in this work that I ended up disagreeing with. He rightly talks about how the type of mystery that takes us to the very edge of our knowledge can then move us beyond knowledge into love, contemplation, or just Being itself. My worry is knowing when and where we are supposed to draw the mystery line. Surely it can’t be that we need to abandon reason at the first glimpse of mystery, and I don’t necessarily think Smith is arguing for that claim. However, some of his illustrations are confusing.
He uses examples like contemporary art to demonstrate how looking at a confusing artwork helps move us to uncertainty and mystery. He says abstract art produces in us an uncomfortable feeling because we lack the knowledge to apply to it. The experience he is describing is certainly true, but I can’t help but ask the question, what if it is because the art is irrational in itself and completely detached from reality? Human beings have the ability to create irrational things and produce falsehoods. An encounter with such absurdities does not mean we have been graced with an experience of transcendence, it could just be wrong and we should apply reason to parse through it.
My worry with Smith’s thought process here is that it can lead to confusion about a number of situations that should be clear. Especially in the realm of morality (which he unfortunately confirmed my suspicion as this is teased at the end of chapter 4). An overemphasis on uncertainty can make something that should be very clear become blurred.
Of course, someone could respond to my push back here and claim that I am exactly the type of person he is speaking to—one who tries to reason their way through all of life’s messiness. And maybe they are right. Perhaps I will look back on this book (and review) years down the road and realize I was on a path towards something greater. For now, I am striving to balance reasonable convictions with epistemic humility in uncertainty, but I think Smith is tipping the scales slightly too far towards uncertainty.
“Darkness” is the unknowing. The relinquishing of the desire to know. In that space of uncertainty, whether triggered by suffering or doubt, makes room for knowledge to be superseded where understanding is surrendered and instead met with radical acceptance and humility. That’s where we find God. Not in the knowing but in the “being” and the uncertainty that accompanies that. ( And by being: he means a self that is loved because it receives / because being itself is a gift. ) And that’s where we come to realise our belovedness, which then gives us our security, to go on with life, to know God and to love as an action.
I think that’s my biggest takeaway from this book - but I think James covers a lot of about Christian mysticism that could do with more explanation with how it still links to Christ.
Leave it to JKAS to poem Tarkovsky’s Andrei Rublev in such a literarily-picturesque way — a reverse adaptation, if you will — as if Tarkovsky’s reputation doesn’t dance and pounce before him.
Artists, philosophers and film snobs draw nigh, I’ve discovered a fresh hive of your nectarous sustenance. Huzzah! A plentiful bounty unto charitable dissemination. What a wild ride, his words not mine (pg. 131).
Notwithstanding having moments of delight and learnedness (the irony) and fascinating recommendations, it wasn’t even orbital of my favorites of his or the genre. Next time, maybe.
Very interesting book. Very academic feeling, a lot of dense language throughout. I did find the key concepts meaningful, although they were so theoretical that I'm not quite sure how to actually apply them to my life. I am definitely planning on revisiting parts as I feel the concepts are so high level that it will take time for them to sink in.
Another note: I didn't realize it would be so Christian, but luckily Smith's flavor of Christian faith is very progressive, and he frequently references an "otherness" or just "the divne" rather than capital G god so it was ok in the end.
This is an excellent book. At times I was confused and didn't understand, at times it was like someone was describing my own experiences as a philosopher and person trying to follow Jesus and his Way, at times I was reassured in my own deep (and deepening) convictions about the true centrality of love. I'll be re-reading this one relatively soon. This book is a gift, and I'm grateful to Smith for writing it.
“The despair of not knowing becomes the elation of not knowing.” Maybe this sentence summarizes this book for me except I am not to the elation part just yet with one epilogue to go. I did despair but stuck with it, one chapter at a time, taking notes on my laptop. I liked the summary of the four points of contemplation: solitude, silence, darkness, wonder—with Latin terms. I struggled with intellectual mastery which is not the point of contemplation. I am humbled.
I'm a huge admirer of Smith and was excited to read this book. His writing on the mystics I found incredibly beautiful and helpful, but he lost me when he would compare it to contemporary art. I'll admit that if I was familiar with some of the art he was referencing it may have enhanced my enjoyment of those sections.
I'm grateful for this book. I'm reading this book at a time in my life where my life of faith has felt fragile, tumultuous, and unknowing. Smith offers wisdom; inviting me to move deeper into that unknown, where the underpinnings of love might be found. He offers musings from films, paintings, and other fine arts that tell his story of unknowing. May we be known beyond information.
“This book is a testament to the failure of philosophy as I knew it. The book is a testimony to the liberation of unknowing. This book reaches toward philosophy as it could be—illuminating the idea that the love of wisdom can be a path to the wisdom of love.”, p. 7-8
Wow, did I need this one. "Modernity taught us to crave knowledge as substitute for being embedded in communities where being known is the practical foundation for going on.... Being right is a sorry substitute for being loved."
I had the good fortune of reading an early version of the manuscript last year, so plenty of time to anticipate this generous, deeply personal exploration of philosophy, mysticism, and contemporary art—“about how to be when you don’t know”—from someone we consider a dear friend.
“We moderns have been hooked on knowing, addicted to comprehension. Maybe we have to experience the utter failure of knowledge in order to shake this modern prejudice and open our hands in the dark. Who knows? The risk, and possibility, is that someone reaches back.”