Showing posts with label Psychology and Religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psychology and Religion. Show all posts

Saturday, July 8, 2017

Carl Jung: Book of Job [Paragraphs 575 – 608]




Since the Omniscient looks into all hearts, and Yahweh’s eyes “run to and fro through the whole earth,” x it were better for the interlocutor of the Eighty-ninth Psalm not to wax too conscious of his slight moral superiority over the more unconscious God. Better to keep it dark, for Yahweh is no friend of critical thoughts which in any way diminish the tribute of recognition he demands.ch in any way diminish the tribute of recognition he demands. Loudly as his power resounds through the universe, the basis of his existence is correspondingly slender, for it needs conscious reflection in order to exist in reality. Existence is only real when it is conscious to somebody. That is why the Creator needs conscious man even though, from sheer unconsciousness, he would like to prevent him from becoming conscious. And that is also why Yahweh needs the acclamation of a small group of people. One can imagine what would happen if this assembly suddenly decided to stop the applause: there would be a state of high excitation, with outbursts of blind destructive rage, then a withdrawal into hellish loneliness and the torture of non-existence, followed by a gradual reawakening of an unutterable longing for something which would make him conscious of himself. It is probably for this reason that all pristine things, even man before he becomes the canaille, have a touching, magical beauty, for in its nascent state “each thing after its kind” is the most precious, the most desirable, the tenderest thing in the world, being a reflection of the infinite love and goodness of the Creator.

576 In view of the undoubted frightfulness of divine wrath, and in an age when men still knew what they were talking about when they said “Fear God/’ it was only to be expected that man’s slight superiority should have remained unconscious. The powerful personality of Yahweh, who, in addition to everything
else, lacked all biographical antecedents (his original relationship to the Elohim had long since been sunk in oblivion), had raised him above all the numina of the Gentiles and had immunized him against the influence that for several centuries had been undermining the authority of the pagan gods. It was precisely the details of their mythological biography that had become their nemesis, for with his growing capacity for judgment man had found these stories more and more incomprehensible and indecent. Yahweh, however, had no origin and no past, except his creation of the world, with which all history began, and his relation to that part of mankind whose forefather Adam he had fashioned in his own image as the Anthropos, the original man, by what appears to have been a special act of creation. One can only suppose that the other human beings who must also have existed at that time had been formed previously on the divine potter’s wheel along with the various kinds of beasts and cattle those human beings, namely, from whom Cain and Seth chose their wives. If one does not approve of this conjecture, then the only other possibility that remains is the far more scandalous one that they incestuously married their sisters (for whom there is no evidence in the text), as was still surmised by the philosopher Karl Lamprecht at the end of the nineteenth century.

577 The special providence which singled out the Jews from among the divinely stamped portion of humanity and made them the “chosen people” had burdened them from the start with a heavy obligation. As usually happens with such mortgages, they quite understandably tried to circumvent it as much as possible. Since the chosen people used every opportunity to break away from him, and Yahweh felt it of vital importance to tie this indispensable object (which he had made “godlike” for this very purpose) definitely to himself, he proposed to the patriarch Noah a contract between himself on the one hand, and Noah, his children, and all their animals, both tame and wild, on the other a contract that promised advantages to both parties. In order to strengthen this contract and keep it fresh in the memory, he instituted the rainbow as a token of the covenant. If, in future, he summoned the thunder-clouds which hide within them floods of water and lightning, then the rainbow would appear, reminding him and his people of the contract. The temptation to use such an accumulation of clouds for an
experimental deluge was no small one, and it was therefore a good idea to associate it with a sign that would give timely warning of possible catastrophe.
578 In spite of these precautions the contract had gone to pieces with David, an event which left behind it a literary deposit in the Scriptures and which grieved some few of the devout, who upon reading it became reflective. As the Psalms were zealously read, it was inevitable that certain thoughtful people were unable to stomach the Eighty-ninth Psalm. However that may be, the fatal impression made by the breach of contract survived. It is historically possible that these considerations influenced the author of the Book of Job.

579 The Book of Job places this pious and faithful man, so heavily afflicted by the Lord, on a brightly lit stage where he presents his case to the eyes and ears of the world. It is amazing to see how easily Yahweh, quite without reason, had let himself be influenced by one of his sons, by a doubting thought,
and made unsure of Job’s faithfulness. With his touchiness and suspiciousness the mere possibility of doubt was enough to infuriate him and induce that peculiar double-faced behaviour of which he had already given proof in the Garden of Eden, when he pointed out the tree to the First Parents and at the same time forbade them to eat of it. In this way he precipitated the Fall, which he apparently never intended. Similarly, his faithful servant Job is now to be exposed to a rigorous moral test, quite gratuitously and to no purpose, although Yahweh is convinced of Job’s faithfulness and constancy, and could moreover have assured himself beyond all doubt on this point had he taken counsel with his own omniscience. Why, then, is the experiment made at all, and a bet with the unscrupulous slanderer settled, without a stake, on the back of a powerless creature? It is indeed no edifying spectacle to see how quickly Yahweh abandons his faithful servant to the evil spirit and lets him fall without compunction or pity into the abyss of physical and moral suffering. From the human point of view Yahweh’s behaviour is so revolting that one has to ask oneself whether there is not a deeper motive hidden behind it. Has Yahweh some secret resistance againstJob? That would explain his yielding to Satan. But what does man possess that God does not have? Because of his littleness, puniness, and defencelessness against the Almighty, he possesses, as we have already suggested, a somewhat keener consciousness based on self-reflection: he must, in order to survive, always be mindful of his impotence. God has no need of this circumspection, for nowhere does he come up against an insuperable obstacle that would force him to hesitate and hence make him reflect on himself. Could a suspicion have grown up in God that man possesses an infinitely small yet more concentrated degree of consciousness than that of a mere “creature” had aroused his divine suspicions. Too often already these human beings had not behaved in the prescribed manner. Even his trusty servant Job might have something up his sleeve. . . . Hence Yahweh’s surprising readiness to listen to Satan’s insinuations against his better judgment.

580 Without further ado Job is robbed of his herds, his servants are slaughtered, his sons and daughters are killed by a whirlwind, and he himself is smitten with sickness and brought to the brink of the grave. To rob him of peace altogether, his wife and his old friends are let loose against him, all of whom say
the wrong things. His justified complaint finds no hearing with the judge who is so much praised for his justice. Job’s right is refused in order that Satan be not disturbed in his play.

581 One must bear in mind here the dark deeds that follow one another in quick succession: robbery, murder, bodily injury with premeditation, and denial of a fair trial. This is further exacerbated by the fact that Yahweh displays no compunction, remorse, or compassion, but only ruthlessness and brutality.
The plea of unconsciousness is invalid, seeing that he flagrantly violates at least three of the commandments he himself gave out on Mount Sinai.

582 Job’s friends do everything in their power to contribute to his moral torments, and instead of giving him, whom God has perfidiously abandoned, their warm-hearted support, they moralize in an all too human manner, that is, in the stupidest fashion imaginable, and “fill him with wrinkles.” They thus deny
him even the last comfort of sympathetic participation and human understanding, so that one cannot altogether suppress the suspicion of connivance in high places.

583 Why Job’s torments and the divine wager should suddenly come to an end is not quite clear. So long as Job does not actually die, the pointless suffering could be continued indefinitely. We must, however, keep an eye on the background of all these events: it is just possible that something in this background will gradually begin to take shape as a compensation for Job’s undeserved suffering-something to which Yahweh, even if he had only a faint inkling of it, could hardly remain indifferent. Without Yahweh’s knowledge and contrary to his intentions, the tormented though guiltless Job had secretly been lifted up to a superior knowledge of God which God himself did not possess. Had Yahweh consulted his omniscience, Job would not have had the advantage of him. But then, so many other things would
not have happened either.

584 Job realizes God’s inner antinomy, and in the light of this realization his knowledge attains a divine numinosity. The possibility of this development lies, one must suppose, in man’s “godlikeness,” which one should certainly not look for in human morphology. Yahweh himself had guarded against this error by expressly forbidding the making of images. Job, by his insistence on bringing his case before God, even without hope of a hearing, had stood his ground and thus created the very obstacle that forced God to reveal his true nature. With this dramatic climax Yahweh abruptly breaks off his cruel game of cat and mouse. But if anyone should expect that his wrath will now be turned against the slanderer, he will be severely disappointed. Yahweh does not think of bringing this mischief-making son of his to account, nor does it ever occur to him to give Job at least the moral satisfaction of explaining his behaviour. Instead, he comes riding along on the tempest of his almightiness and thunders reproaches at the half-crushed human worm:

Who is this that darkens counsel
by words without insight?

585 In view of the subsequent words of Yahweh, one must really ask oneself: Who is darkening what counsel? The only dark thing here is how Yahweh ever came to make a bet with Satan. It is certainly not Job who has darkened anything and least of all a counsel, for there was never any talk of this nor will there be in what follows. The bet does not contain any “counsel” so far as one can see-unless, of course, it was Yahweh himself who egged Satan on for the ultimate purpose of exalting Job. Naturally this development was foreseen in omniscience, and it may be that the word “counsel” refers to this eternal and absolute knowledge. If so, Yahweh’s attitude seems the more illogical and incomprehensible, as he could then have enlightened Job on this point-which, in view of the wrong done to him, would have been only fair and equitable. I must therefore regard this possibility as improbable.

586 Whose words are without insight? Presumably Yahweh is not referring to the words of Job’s friends, but is rebuking Job. But what is Job’s guilt? The only thing he can be blamed for is his incurable optimism in believing that he can appeal to divine justice. In this he is mistaken, as Yahweh’s subsequent words prove. God does not want to be just; he merely flaunts might over right. Job could not get that into his head, because he looked upon God as a moral being. He had never doubted God’s might, but had hoped for right as well. He had, however, already taken back this error when he recognized God’s contradictory
nature, and by so doing he assigned a place to God’s justice and goodness. So one can hardly speak of lack of insight. The answer to Yahweh’s conundrum is therefore: it is Yahweh himself who darkens his own counsel and who has no insight. He turns the tables on Job and blames him for what he himself does: man is not permitted to have an opinion about him, and, in particular, is to have no insight which he himself does not possess. For seventy-one verses he proclaims his world creating power to his miserable victim, who sits in ashes and scratches his sores with potsherds, and who by now has had
more than enough of superhuman violence. Job has absolutely no need of being impressed by further exhibitions of this power. Yahweh, in his omniscience, could have known just how incongruous his attempts at intimidation were in such a situation. He could easily have seen that Job believes in his omnipotence as much as ever and has never doubted it or wavered in his loyalty. Altogether, he pays so little attention to Job’s real situation that one suspects him of having an ulterior motive which is more important to him: Job is no more than the outward occasion for an inward process of dialectic in God. His thunderings at Job so completely miss the point that one cannot help but see how much he is occupied with himself. The tremendous emphasis he lays on his omnipotence and greatness makes no sense in relation to Job, who certainly needs no more convincing, but only becomes intelligible when aimed at a listener who doubts it. This “doubting thought” is Satan, who after completing his evil handiwork has returned to the paternal bosom in order to continue his subversive activity there. Yahweh must have seen that Job’s loyalty was unshakable and that Satan had lost his bet. He must also have realized that, in accepting this bet, he had done everything possible to drive his faithful servant to disloyalty, even to the extent of perpetrating a whole series of crimes. Yet it is not remorse and certainly not moral horror that rises to his consciousness, but an obscure intimation of something that questions his omnipotence. He is particularly sensitive on this point, because “might” is the great argument. But omniscience knows that might excuses nothing. The said intimation refers, of course, to the extremely uncomfortable fact that Yahweh had let himself be bamboozled by Satan. This weakness of his does not reach full consciousness, since Satan is treated with remarkable tolerance and consideration. Evidently Satan’s intrigue is deliberately overlooked at Job’s expense.

588 Luckily enough, Job had noticed during this harangue that everything else had been mentioned except his right. He has understood that it is at present impossible to argue the question of right, as it is only too obvious that Yahweh has no interest whatever in Job’s cause but is far more preoccupied with his own affairs. Satan, that is to say, has somehow to disappear, and this can best be done by casting suspicion on Job as a man of subversive opinions. The problem is thus switched on to another track, and the episode with Satan remains unmentioned and unconscious. To the spectator it is not quite clear why Job is treated to this almighty exhibition of thunder and lightning, but the performance as such is sufficiently magnificent and impressive to convince not only a larger audience but above all Yahweh himself of his unassailable power. Whether Job realizes what violence Yahweh is doing to his own omniscience by behaving like this we do not know, but his silence and submission leave a number of possibilities open. Job has no alternative butformally to revoke his demand for justice, and he therefore answers in the words quoted at the beginning: “I lay my hand on my mouth.”

589 He betrays not the slightest trace of mental reservation in fact, his answer leaves us in no doubt that he has succumbed completely and without question to the tremendous force of the divine demonstration. The most exacting tyrant should have been satisfied with this, and could be quite sure that his servant from terror alone, to say nothing of his undoubted loyalty would not dare to nourish a single improper thought for a very long time to come.

590 Strangely enough, Yahweh does not notice anything of the kind. He does not see Job and his situation at all. It is rather as if he had another powerful opponent in the place of Job, one who was better worth challenging. This is clear from his twice repeated taunt: Gird up your loins like a man; I will question you, and you shall declare to me.

591 One would have to choose positively grotesque examples to illustrate the disproportion between the two antagonists. Yahweh sees something in Job which we would not ascribe to him but to God, that is, an equal power which causes him to bring out his whole power apparatus and parade it before his opponent. Yahweh projects on to Job a sceptic’s face which is hateful to him because it is his own, and which gazes at him with an uncanny and critical eye. He is afraid of it, for only in face of something frightening does one let off a cannonade of references to one’s power, cleverness, courage, invincibility, etc. What has all that to do with Job? Is it worth the lion’s while to terrify a mouse?

592 Yahweh cannot rest satisfied with the first victorious round. Job has long since been knocked out, but the great antagonist whose phantom is projected on to the pitiable sufferer still stands menacingly upright. Therefore Yahweh raises his arm again:

Will you even put me in the wrong?
Will you condemn me that you may be justified?
Have you an arm like God,
and can you thunder with a voice like his?

593 Man, abandoned without protection and stripped of his rights, and whose nothingness is thrown in his face at every opportunity, evidently appears to be so dangerous to Yahweh that he must be battered down with the heaviest artillery. What irritates Yahweh can be seen from his challenge to the ostensible
Job:
Look on every one that is proud, and bring him low;
and tread down the wicked where they stand.
Hide them in the dust together;
bind their faces in the hidden place.
Then will I also acknowledge to you
that your own right hand can give you victory.

594 Job is challenged as though he himself were a god. But in the contemporary metaphysics there was no deuteros theos, no other god except Satan, who owns Yahweh’s ear and is able to influence him. He is the only one who can pull the wool over his eyes, beguile him, and put him up to a massive violation of his own penal code. A formidable opponent indeed, and, because of his close kinship, so compromising that he must be concealed with the utmost discretion even to the point of God’s hiding him from his own consciousness in his own bosom! In his stead God must set up his miserable servant as the bugbearwhom he has to fight, in the hope that by banishing the dreaded countenance to “the hidden place” he will be able to maintain himself in a state of unconsciousness.

595 The stage-managing of this imaginary duel, the speechifying, and the impressive performance given by the prehistoric menagerie would not be sufficiently explained if we tried to reduce them to the purely negative factor of Yahweh’s fear of becoming conscious and of the relativization which this entails. The conflict becomes acute for Yahweh as a result of a new factor, which is, however, not hidden from omniscience though in this case the existing knowledge is not accompanied by any conclusion. The new factor is something that has never occurred before in the history of the world, the unheard-of fact that, without knowing it or wanting it, a mortal man is raised by his moral behaviour above the stars in heaven, from which position of advantage he can behold the back of Yahweh, the abysmal world of “shards.”

597 Truly, Yahweh can do all things and permits himself all things without batting an eyelid. With brazen countenance he can project his shadow side and remain unconscious at man’s expense. He can boast of his superior power and enact laws which mean less than air to him. Murder and manslaughter are mere bagatelles, and if the mood takes him he can play the feudal grand seigneur and generously recompense his bond slave for the havoc wrought in his wheat-fields. “So you have lost your sons and daughters? No harm done, I will give you new and better ones.”

598 Job continues (no doubt with downcast eyes and in a lowvoice):

“Who is this that hides counsel without insight?”

Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.

“Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you declare to me.”

I had heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees thee; therefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.

599 Shrewdly, Job takes up Yahweh’s aggressive words and prostrates himself at his feet as if he were indeed the defeated antagonist. Guileless as Job’s speech sounds, it could just as well be equivocal. He has learnt his lesson well and experienced “wonderful things” which are none too easily grasped. Before, he had known Yahweh “by the hearing of the ear,” but now he has got a taste of his reality, more so even than David an process of the sefiroth. Therefore the seftroth had to be cleansed of the evil admixture of the shards. This elimination of the shards took place in what is described in the cabalistic writings particularly of Luria and his school as the “breaking of the vessels/’ Through this the powers of evil assumed a separate and real existence incisive lesson that had better not be forgotten. Formerly he was naive, dreaming perhaps of a “good” God, or of a benevolent ruler and just judge. He had imagined that a ”covenant” was alegal matter and that anyone who was party to a contract could insist on his rights as agreed; that God would be faithful and true or at least just, and, as one could assume from the Ten Commandments, would have some recognition of ethical values or at least feel committed to his own legal standpoint. But, to his horror, he has discovered that Yahweh is not human but, in certain respects, less than human, that he is just what Yahweh himself says of Leviathan (the crocodile): He beholds everything that is high: He is king over all proud beasts.

600 Unconsciousness has an animal nature. Like all old gods Yahweh has his animal symbolism with its unmistakable borrowings from the much older theriomorphic gods of Egypt, especially Horus and his four sons. Of the four animals of Yahweh only one has a human face. That is probably Satan, the godfather of man as a spiritual being. EzekieFs vision attributes three-fourths animal nature and only one-fourth human nature to the animal deity, while the upper deity, the one above the “sapphire throne,” merely had the “likeness” of a man. This symbolism explains Yahweh’s behaviour, which, from the human point of view, is so intolerable: it is the behaviour of an unconscious being who cannot be judged morally. Yahweh is a phenomenon and, as Job says, “not a man.”

601 One could, without too much difficulty, impute such a meaning to Job’s speech. Be that as it may, Yahweh calmed down at last. The therapeutic measure of unresisting acceptance had proved its value yet again. Nevertheless, Yahweh is still somewhat nervous of Job’s friends they “have not spoken of me what is right.” The projection of his doubt-complex extends comically enough, one must say to these respectable and slightly pedantic old gentlemen, as though God-knows-what depended on what they thought. But the fact that men should think at all, and especially about him, is maddeningly disquieting and ought somehow to be stopped. It is far too much like the sort of thing his vagrant son is always springing on him, thus hitting him in his weakest spot. How often already has he bitterly regretted his unconsidered outbursts!

602 One can hardly avoid the impression that Omniscience is gradually drawing near to a realization, and is threatened with an insight that seems to be hedged about with fears of selfdestruction. Fortunately, Job’s final declaration is so formulated that one can assume with some certainty that, for the protagonists, the incident is closed for good and all.

603 The commenting chorus on this great tragedy, which has never at any time lost its vitality, do not feel quite like that. For our modern sensibilities it is by no means apparent that with Job’s profound obeisance to the majesty of the divine presence, and his prudent silence, a real answer has been given to the question raised by the Satanic prank of a wager with God. Job has not so much answered as reacted in an adjusted way. In so doing he displayed remarkable self-discipline, but an unequivocal answer has still to be given. To take the most obvious thing, what about the moral wrong Job has suffered? Is man so worthless in God’s eyes that not even a tort moral can be inflicted on him? That contradicts the fact that man is desired by Yahweh and that it obviously matters to him whether men speak “right” of him or not. He needs Job’s loyalty, and it means so much to him that he shrinks at nothing in carrying out his test. This attitude attaches an almost divine importance to man, for what else is there in the whole wide world that could mean anything to one who has everything? Yahweh’s divided attitude, which on the one hand tramples onhuman life and happiness without regard, and on the other hand must have man for a partner, puts the latter in an impossible position. At one moment Yahweh behaves as irrationally as a cataclysm; the next moment he wants to be loved, honoured, worshipped, and praised as just. He reacts irritably to every word that has the faintest suggestion of criticism, while he himself does not care a straw for his own moral code if his actions happen to run counter to its statutes.

605 One can submit to such a God only with fear and trembling, and can try indirectly to propitiate the despot with unctuous praises and ostentatious obedience. But a relationship of trust seems completely out of the question to our modern way of thinking. Nor can moral satisfaction be expected from an unconscious nature god of this kind. Nevertheless, Job got his satisfaction, without Yahweh’s intending it and possibly without himself knowing it, as the poet would have it appear. Yahweh’s allocutions have the unthinking yet none the less transparent purpose of showing Job the brutal power of the demiurge: “This is I, the creator of all the ungovernable, ruthless forces of Nature, which are not subject to any ethical laws. I, too, am an amoral force of Nature, a purely phenomenal personality that cannot see its own back.” This is, or at any rate could be, a moral satisfaction of the first order for Job, because through this declaration man, in spite of his impotence, is set up as a judge over God himself. We do not know whether Job realizes this, but we do know from the numerous commentaries on Job that all succeeding ages have overlooked the fact that a kind of Moira or Dike rules over Yahweh, causing him to give himself away so blatantly. Anyone can see how he unwittingly raises Job by humiliating him in the dust. By so doing he pronounces judgment on himself and gives man the moral satisfaction whose absence we found so painful in the Book of Job.

607 The poet of this drama showed a masterly discretion in ringing down the curtain at the very moment when his hero gave unqualified recognition to the dxo^acm iityaXy of the Demiurge by prostrating himself at the feet of His Divine Majesty. No other impression was permitted to remain. An unusual scandal was blowing up in the realm of metaphysics, with supposedly devastating consequences, and nobody was ready with a saving formula which would rescue the monotheistic conception of God from disaster. Even in those days the critical intellect of a Greek could easily have seized on this new addition to Yahweh’s biography and used it in his disfavour (as indeed happened, though very much later) so as to mete out to him the fate that had already overtaken the Greek gods. But a relativization of God was utterly unthinkable at that time, and remained so for the next two thousand years.

608 The unconscious mind of man sees correctly even when conscious reason is blind and impotent. The drama has been consummated for all eternity: Yahweh’s dual nature has been revealed, and somebody or something has seen and registered this fact. Such a revelation, whether it reached man’s consciousness or not, could not fail to have far-reaching consequences. ~Carl Jung, Answer to Job, Psychology and Religion.

Carl Jung "Answer to Job" [Part 1]




564 Job answers Yahweh thus:

Behold, I am of small account; what shall I answer thee?
I lay my hand on my mouth.
I have spoken once, and I will not answer;
twice, but I will proceed no further.

565 And indeed, in the immediate presence of the infinite power of creation, this is the only possible answer for a witness who is still trembling in every limb with the terror of almost total annihilation. What else could a half-crushed human worm, grovelling in the dust, reasonably answer in the circumstances? In spite of his pitiable littleness and feebleness, this man knows that he is confronted with a superhuman being who is personally
most easily provoked. He also knows that it is far better to withhold all moral reflections, to say nothing of certain moral requirements which might be expected to apply to a god.

566 Yahweh’s “justice” is praised, so presumably Job could bring his complaint and the protestation of his innocence before him as ijob 40:4-5. the just judge. But he doubts this possibility. “How can a man be just before God?” “If I summoned him and he answered me, I would not believe that he was listening to my voice/’ “If it is a matter of justice, who can summon him?” He “multiplies my wounds without cause.” “He destroys both the blameless and the wicked.” “If the scourge slay suddenly, he will laugh at the trial of the innocent.” “I know,” Job says to Yahweh, “thou wilt not hold me innocent. I shall be condemned.” “If I wash myself . . . never so clean, yet shalt thou plunge me in the ditch.” “For he is not a man, as I am, that I should answer him, and we should come together in judgment.” Job wants to explain his point of view to Yahweh, to state his complaint, and tells him: “Thou knowest that I am not guilty, and there is none to deliver out of thy hand.” “I desire to argue my case with God.” “I will defend my ways to his face,” “I know that I shall be vindicated.” Yahweh should summon him and render him an account or at least allow him to plead his cause. Properly estimating the disproportion between man and God, he asks: “Wilt thou break a leaf driven to and fro? and wilt thou pursue the dry stubble?” God has put him in the wrong, but there is no justice. He has “taken away my right.” “Till I die I will not put away my integrity from me. I hold fast to my righteousness, and will not let it go.” His friend Elihu the Buzite does not believe the injusticeof Yahweh: “Of a truth, God will not do wickedly, and the Almighty will not pervert justice.” Illogically enough, he bases his opinion on God’s power: “Is it fit to say to a king, Thou art wicked? and to princes, Ye are ungodly?” One must “respect the persons of princes and esteem the high more than the low.” But Job is not shaken in his faith, and had already uttered an important truth when he said: “Behold, my witness is in heaven, and he that vouches for me is on high … my eye pours out tears to God, that he would maintain the right of a man with God, like that of a man with his neighbour.” And later: “For I know that my Vindicator lives, and at last he will stand upon the earth.”

567 These words clearly show that Job, in spite of his doubt as to whether man can be just before God, still finds it difficult to relinquish the idea of meeting God on the basis of justice and therefore of morality. Because, in spite of everything, he cannot give up his faith in divine justice, it is not easy for him to accept the knowledge that divine arbitrariness breaks the law. On the other hand, he has to admit that no one except Yahweh himself is doing him injustice and violence. He cannot deny that he is up against a God who does not care a rap for any moral opinion and does not recognize any form of ethics as binding. This is perhaps the greatest thing about Job, that, faced with this difficulty, he does not doubt the unity of God. He clearly sees thatGod is at odds with himself so totally at odds that he, Job, is quite certain of finding in God a helper and an “advocate” against God. As certain as he is of the evil in Yahweh, he is equally certain of the good. In a human being who renders us evil we cannot expect at the same time to find a helper. But Yahweh is not a human being: he is both a persecutor and a helper in one, and the one aspect is as real as the other. Yahweh is not split but is an antinomy a. totality of inner opposites and this is the indispensable condition for his tremendous dynamism, his omniscience and omnipotence. Because of this knowledge Job holds on to his intention of “defending his ways to his face,” i.e., of making his point of view clear to him, since notwithstanding his wrath, Yahweh is also man’s advocate against himself when man puts forth his complaint.

568 One would be even more astonished at Job’s knowledge of God if this were the first time one were hearing of Yahweh’s amorality. His incalculable moods and devastating attacks of wrath had, however, been known from time immemorial. He had proved himself to be a jealous defender of morality and was esspecially sensitive in regard to justice. Hence he had always to be praised as “just/* which, it seemed, was very important to him. Thanks to this circumstance or peculiarity of his, he had a
distinct personality, which differed from that of a more or less archaic king only in scope. His jealous and irritable nature, prying their secret thoughts, compelled a personal relationship between himself and man, who could not help but feel personally called by him. That was the essential difference between Yahweh and the all-ruling Father Zeus, who in a benevolent and somewhatdetached manner allowed the economy of the universe to roll along on its accustomed courses and punished only those who were disorderly. He did not moralize but ruled purely instinctively. He did not demand anything more from human beings than the sacrifices due to him; he did not want to do anything with human beings because he had no plans for them.Father Zeus is certainly a figure but not a personality. Yahweh, on the other hand, was interested in man. Human beings were a matter of first-rate importance to him. He needed them as they needed him, urgently and personally. Zeus too could throw thunderbolts about, but only at hopelessly disorderly individuals. Against mankind as a whole he had no objections but then they did not interest him all that much. Yahweh, however, could get inordinately excited about man as a species and men as individuals if they did not behave as he desired or expected, without ever considering that in his omnipotence he could easily have created something better than these “bad earthenware pots.”

569 In view of this intense personal relatedness to his chosen people, it was only to be expected that a regular covenant would develop which also extended to certain individuals, for instance to David. As we learn from the Eighty-ninth Psalm, Yahweh told him:

My steadfast love I will keep for him for ever,
and my covenant will stand firm for him.
I will not violate my covenant,
or alter the word that went forth from my lips.
Once for all I have sworn by my holiness;
I will not lie to David

And yet it happened that he, who watched so jealously over the fulfilment of laws and contracts, broke his own oath. Modernman, with his sensitive conscience, would have felt the black abyss opening and the ground giving way under his feet, for the least he expects of his God is that he should be superior to mortal man in the sense of being better, higher, nobler but not
his superior in the kind of moral flexibility and unreliability that do not jib even at perjury.

571 Of course one must not tax an archaic god with the requirements of modern ethics. For the people of early antiquity things were rather different. In their gods there was absolutely everything: they teemed with virtues and vices. Hence they could be punished, put in chains, deceived, stirred up against one another with ut losing face, or at least not for long. The man of that epoch was so inured to divine inconsistencies that he was not unduly perturbed when they happened. With Yahweh the case was different because, from quite early on, the personal and moral tie began to play an important part in the religious relationship. In these circumstances a breach of contract was bound to have the effect not only of a personal but of a moral injury. One can see this from the way David answers Yahweh:

How long, Lord? wilt thou hide thyself forever?
shall thy wrath burn like fire?
Remember how short my time is:
wherefore hast thou made all men in vain?
Lord, where are thy former loving kindnesses,
which by thy faithfulness thou didst swear to David?

572 Had this been addressed to a human being it would have run something like this:

“For heaven’s sake, man, pull yourself together and stop being such a senseless savage! It is really too grotesque to get into such a rage when it’s partly your own fault that the plants won’t flourish. You used to be quite reasonable and took good care of the garden you planted, instead of trampling it to pieces.”

573 Certainly our interlocutor would never dare to remonstrate with his almighty partner about this breach of contract. He knows only too well what a row he would get into if he were the wretched breaker of the law. Because anything else would put him in peril of his life, he must retire to the more exalted plane of reason. In this way, without knowing it or wanting it, he shows himself superior to his divine partner both intellectually and morally. Yahweh fails to notice that he is being humoured, just as little as he understands why he has continually to be praised as just. He makes pressing demands on his people to be praised and propitiated in every possible way, for the obvious purpose of keeping him in a good temper at any price.

574 The character thus revealed fits a personality who can only convince himself that he exists through his relation to an object. Such dependence on the object is absolute when the subject is totally lacking in self-reflection and therefore has no insight into himself. It is as if he existed only by reason of the fact that he has an object which assures him that he is really there. If Yahweh, as we would expect of a sensible human being, were really conscious of himself, he would, in view of the true facts of the case, at least have put an end to the panegyrics on his justice. But he is too unconscious to be moral. Morality presupposes consciousness. By this I do not mean to say that Yahweh is imperfect or evil, like a gnostic demiurge. He is everything in its totality; therefore, among other things, he is total justice, and also its total opposite. At least this is the way he must be conceived if one is to form a unified picture of his character. We must only remember that what we have sketched is no more than an anthropomorphic picture which is not even particularly easy to visualize. From the way the divine nature expresses itself we can see that the individual qualities are not adequately related to one another, with the result that they fall apart into mutually contradictory acts. For instance, Yahweh regrets having created human beings, although in his omniscience he must have known all along what would happen to them. ~Carl Jung, Answer to Job, Section 1, Psychology and Religion.

Carl Jung's Prefatory Note to Answer to Job




The suggestion that I should tell you how Answer to Job came to be written sets me a difficult task, because the history of this book can hardly be told in a few words.

I have been occupied with its central problem for years. Many different sources nourished the stream of its thoughts, until one day and after long reflection the time was ripe to put them into words.

The most immediate cause of my writing the book is perhaps to be found in certain problems discussed in my book Aion especially the problems of Christ as a symbolic figure and of the antagonism Christ-Antichrist, represented in the traditional zodiacal symbolism of the two fishes.

In connection with the discussion of these problems and of the doctrine of Redemption, I criticized the idea of the privation bono as not agreeing with the psychological findings.

Psychological experience shows that whatever we call “good” is balanced by an equally substantial “bad” or “evil.” If “evil” is non-existent, then whatever there is must needs be “good.

Dogmatically, neither “good” nor “evil” can be derived from Man, since the “Evil One” existed before Man as one of the “Sons of God.”

The idea of the privatio bono began to play a role in the Church only after Mani.

Before this heresy, Clement of Rome taught that God rules the world with a right and a left hand, the right being Christ, the left Satan.

Clement’s view is clearly monotheistic, as it unites the opposites in one God.

Later Christianity, however, is dualistic, inasmuch as it splits off one half of the opposites, personified in Satan, and he is eternal in his state of damnation.

This crucial question forms the point of departure for the Christian theory of Redemption. It is therefore of prime importance.

If Christianity claims to be a monotheism, it becomes unavoidable to assume the opposites as being contained in God.

But the we are confronted with a major religious problem: the problem of Job. It is the aim of my book to point out its historical evolution since the time of Job down through the centuries to the most recent symbolic phenomena, such as the Assumptio Mariae, etc.

Moreover, the study of medieval natural philosophy of the greatest importance to psychology made me try to find an answer to the question: what image of God did these old philosophers have?

Or rather: how should the symbols which supplement their image of God be understood?

All this pointed to a complexio oppositorurn and thus recalled again the story of Job to my mind: Job who expected help from God against God.

This most peculiar fact presupposes a similar conception of the opposites in God.

On the other hand, numerous questions, not only from my patients, but from all over the world, brought up the problem of giving a more complete and explicit answer than I had given in Aion.

For many years I hesitated to do this because I was quite conscious of the probable consequences, and knew what a storm would be raised.

But I was gripped by the urgency and difficulty of the problem and was unable to throw it off.

Therefore I found myself obliged to deal with the whole problem, and I did so in the form of describing a personal experience, carried by subjective emotions.

I deliberately chose this form because I wanted to avoid the impression that I had any idea of announcing an “eternal truth.”

The book does not pretend to be anything but the voice or question of a single individual who hopes or expects to meet with thoughtfulness in the public.

Prefatory Note to Answer to Job by Carl Jung; Psychology and Religion.

LECTORI BENEVOLO

I am distressed for thee, my brother . . .~II Samuel i : 26 (AV)

On account of its somewhat unusual content, my little book requires a short preface.

I beg of you, dear reader, not to overlook it.

For, in what follows, I shall speak of the venerable objects of religious belief.

Whoever talks of such matters inevitably runs the risk of being torn to pieces by the two parties who are in mortal conflict about those very things.

This conflict is due to the strange supposition that a thing is true only if it presents itself as a physical fact.

Thus some people believe it to be physically true that Christ was born as the son of a virgin, while others deny this as a physical impossibility.

Everyone can see that there is no logical solution to this conflict and that one would do better not to get involved in such sterile disputes. Both are right and both are wrong.

Yet they could easily reach agreement if only they dropped the word “physical.”

“Physical” is not the only criterion of truth: there are also psychic truths which can neither be explained nor proved nor contested in any physical way.

If, for instance, a general belief existed that the river Rhine had at one time flowed backwards from its mouth to its source, then this belief would in itself be a fact even though such an assertion, physically understood, would be deemed utterly incredible.

Beliefs of this kind are psychic facts which cannot be contested and need no proof.

Religious statements are of this type.

They refer without exception to things that cannot be established as physical facts.

If they did not do this, they would inevitably fall into the category of the natural sciences.

Taken as referring to anything physical, they make no sense whatever, and science would dismiss them as non-experienceable.

They would be mere miracles, which are sufficiently exposed to doubt as it is, and yet they could not demonstrate the reality of the spirit or meaning that underlies them, because meaning is something that always demonstrates itself and is experienced on its own merits.

The spirit and meaning of Christ are present and perceptible to us even without the aid of miracles.

Miracles appeal only to the understanding of those who cannot perceive the meaning.

They are mere substitutes for the not understood reality of the spirit. This is not to say that the living presence of the spirit is not occasionally accompanied by marvelous physical happenings.

I only wish to emphasize that these happenings can neither replace nor bring about an understanding of the spirit, which is the one essential thing.

The fact that religious statements frequently conflict with the observed physical phenomena proves that in contrast to physical perception the spirit is autonomous, and that psychic experience is to a certain extent independent of physical data.

The psyche is an autonomous factor, and religious statements are psychic confessions which in the last resort are based on unconscious, i.e., on transcendental, processes.

These processes are not accessible to physical perception but demonstrate their existence through the confessions of the psyche.

The resultant statements are filtered through the medium of human consciousness: that is to say, they are given visible forms which in their turn are subject to manifold influences from within and without.

That is why whenever we speak of religious contents we move in a world of images that point to something ineffable, We do not know how clear or unclear these images, metaphors, and concepts are in respect of their transcendental object.

If, for instance, we say “God,” we give expression to an image or verbal concept which has undergone many changes in the course of time.

We are, however, unable to say with any degree of certainty unless it be by faith whether these changes affect only the images and concepts, or the Unspeakable itself.

After all, we can imagine God as an eternally flowing current of vital energy
that endlessly changes shape just as easily as we can imagine him as an eternally unmoved, unchangeable essence.

Our reason is sure only of one thing: that it manipulates images and ideas which are dependent on human imagination and its temporal and local conditions, and which have therefore changed innumerable times in the course of their long history.

There is no doubt that there is something behind these images that transcends consciousness and operates in such a way that the statements do not vary limitlessly and chaotically, but clearly all relate to a few basic principles or archetypes. These, like the psyche itself, or like matter, are unknowable as such.

All we can do is to construct models of them which we know to be inadequate, a fact which is confirmed again and again by religious statements.

If, therefore, in what follows I concern myself with these “metaphysical” objects, I am quite conscious that I am moving in a world of images and that none of my reflections touches the essence of the Unknowable.

I am also too well aware of how limited are our powers of conception to say nothing of the feebleness and poverty of language to imagine that my remarks mean anything more in principle than what a primitive man means when he conceives of his god as a hare or a snake.

But, although our whole world of religious ideas consists of anthropomorphic images that could never stand up to rational criticism, we should never forget that they are based on numinous archetypes, i.e., on an emotional foundation which is unassailable by reason.

We are dealing with psychic facts which logic can overlook but not eliminate. In this connection Tertullian has already appealed, quite rightly, to the testimony of the soul.

In his De testimonio animae, he says: These testimonies of the soul are as simple as they are true, as obvious as they are simple, as common as they are obvious, as natural as they are common, as divine as they are natural.

I think that they cannot appear to anyone to be trifling and ridiculous if he considers the majesty of Nature, whence the authority of the soul is derived.

What you allow to the mistress you will assign to the disciple.

Nature is the mistress, the soul is the disciple; what the one has taught, or the other has learned, has been delivered to them by God, who is, in truth, the Master even of the mistress herself.

What notion the soul is able to conceive of her first teacher is in your power to judge, from that soul which is in you.

Feel that which causes you to feel; think upon that which is in forebodings your prophet; in omens, your augur; in the events which befall you, your foreseer.

Strange if, being given by God, she knows how to act the diviner for men! Equally strange if she knows Him by whom she has been given!

I would go a step further and say that the statements made in the Holy Scriptures are also utterances of the soul even at the risk of being suspected of psychologism.

The statements of the conscious mind may easily be snares and delusions, lies, or arbitrary opinions, but this is certainly not true of the statements of the soul: to begin with they always go over our heads because they point to realities that transcend consciousness.

These entia are the archetypes of the collective unconscious, and they precipitate complexes of ideas in the form of mythological motifs.

Ideas of this kind are never invented, but enter the field of inner perception as finished products, for instance in dreams.

They are spontaneous phenomena which are not subject to our will, and we are therefore justified in ascribing to them a certain autonomy.

They are to be regarded not only as objects but as subjects with laws of their own. From the point of view of consciousness, we can, of course, describe them as objects, and even explain them up to a point, in the same measure as we can describe and explain a living human being.

But then we have to disregard their autonomy.

If that is considered, we are compelled to treat them as subjects; in other words, we have to admit that they possess spontaneity and purposiveness, or a kind of consciousness and free will.

We observe their behaviour and consider their statements. This dual standpoint, which we are forced to adopt towards every relatively independent organism,
naturally has a dual result.

On the one hand it tells me what I do to the object, and on the other hand what it does (possibly to me).

It is obvious that this unavoidable dualism will create a certain amount of confusion in the minds of my readers, particularly as in what follows we shall have to do with the archetype of Deity.

Should any of my readers feel tempted to add an apologetic “only” to the God-images as we perceive them, he would immediately fall foul of experience, which demonstrates beyond any shadow of doubt the extraordinary numinosity of these images.

The tremendous effectiveness (mana) of these images is such that they not only give one the feeling of pointing to the Ens realissimum, but make one convinced that they actually express it and establish it as a fact.

This makes discussion uncommonly difficult, if not impossible.

It is, in fact, impossible to demonstrate God’s reality to oneself except by using images which have arisen spontaneously or are sanctified by tradition, and whose psychic nature and effects the naive-minded person has never separated from their unknowable metaphysical background.

He instantly equates the effective image with the transcendental x to which it points.

The seeming justification for this procedure appears self-evident and is not considered a problem so long as the statements of religion are not seriously questioned.

But if there is occasion for criticism, then it must be remembered that the image and the statement are psychic processes which are different from their transcendental object; they do not posit it, they merely point to it.

In the realm of psychic processes criticism and discussion are not only permissible but are unavoidable.

In what follows I shall attempt just such a discussion, such a “coming to terms” with certain religious traditions and ideas.

Since I shall be dealing with numinous factors, my feeling is challenged quite as much as my intellect.

I cannot, therefore, write in a coolly objective manner, but must allow my emotional subjectivity to speak if I want to describe what I feel when I read certain books of the Bible, or when I remember the impressions I have received from the doctrines of our faith.

I do not write as a biblical scholar (which I am not), but as a layman and physician who has been privileged to see deeply into the psychic life of many people.

What I am expressing is first of all my own personal view, but I know that I also speak in the name of many who have had similar experiences. ~Carl Jung; Answer to Job; Prefatory Note to Answer to Job; Psychology and Religion.

Carl Jung's Foreword to "Lucifer and Prometheus"



Forward to Werblowsky’s: Lucifer and Prometheus

468 The author has submitted his manuscript to me with the request that I should write a few words by way of introduction. As the subject of the book is essentially literary, I do not feel altogether competent to express an opinion on the matter. The author has, however, rightly discerned that, although the problem of Milton’s Paradise Lost is primarily a subject for literary criticism, it is, as a piece of confessional writing, fundamentally bound up with certain psychological assumptions. Though he has only touched on these at least in so many words he has made it sufficiently plain why he has appealed to me as a psychologist. However little disposed I am to regard Dante’s Divine Comedy or Klopstock’s Messiah or Milton’s opus as fit subjects for psychological commentary, I cannot but acknowledge the acumen of the author, who has seen that the problem of Milton might well be elucidated from that angle of research which is my special field of study.

469 For over two thousand years the figure of Satan, both as a theme of poetico-religious thinking and artistic creation and as a mythologem, has been a constant expression of the psyche, having its source in the unconscious evolution of “metaphysical” images. We should go very wrong in our judgment if we assumed that ideas such as this derive from rationalistic thinking. All the old ideas of God, indeed thought itself, and particularly numinous thought, have their origin in experience. Primitive
man does not think his thoughts, they simply appear in his mind. Purposive and directed thinking is a relatively late human achievement. The numinous image is far more an expression of essentially unconscious processes than a product of rational inference. Consequently it falls into the category of psychological objects, and this raises the question of the underlying
psychological assumptions. We have to imagine a millennial process of symbol-formation which presses towards consciousness, beginning in the darkness of prehistory with primordial or archetypal images, and gradually developing and differentiating these images into conscious creations. The history of religion in the West can be taken as an illustration of this: I mean the historical development of dogma, which also includes the figure of Satan. One of the best-known archetypes, lost in the grey mists of antiquity, is the triad of gods. In the early centuries of Christianity it reappears in the Christian formula for the Trinity, whose pagan version is Hermes terunits. Nor is it difficult to see that the great goddess of the Ephesians has been resurrected in the QZOTOKOS. This latter problem, after lying dormant for centuries, came into circulation again with the dogma of the Immaculate Conception and, more recently, of the Assumption of the Virgin. The figure of the mediatrix rounds itself out in almost classical perfection, and it is especially noteworthy that behind the solemn promulgation of the dogma there stands no arbitrary tenet of papal authority but an anonymous movement of the Catholic world. The numerous miracles of the Virgin which preceded it are equally autochthonous; they are genuine and legitimate experiences springing directly from the unconscious psychic life of the people.

470 I do not wish to multiply examples needlessly, but only to make it clear that the figure of Satan, too, has undergone a curious development, from the time of his first undistinguished appearance in the Old Testament texts to his heyday in Christianity. He achieved notoriety as the personification of the adversary or principle of evil, though by no means for the first time, as we meet him centuries earlier in the ancient Egyptian Set and the Persian Ahriman. Persian influences have been conjectured as mainly responsible for the Christian devil But the real reason for the differentiation of this figure lies in the conception of God as the summum bonum, which stands in sharp contrast to the Old Testament view and which, for reasons of psychic balance, inevitably requires the existence of an infimum malum. No logical reasons are needed for this, only the natural and unconscious striving for balance and symmetry. Hence very early, in Clement of Rome, we meet with the conception of Christ as the right hand and the devil as the left hand of God, not to speak of the Judaeo-Christian view which recognized two
sons of God, Satan the elder and Christ the younger. The figure of the devil then rose to such exalted metaphysical heights that he had to be forcibly depotentiated, under the threatening influence of Manichaeism. The depotentiation was effected this time by rationalistic reflection, by a regular tour de force of sophistry which defined evil as a privatio boni. But that did
nothing to stop the belief from arising in many parts of Europe during the eleventh century, mainly under the influence of the Catharists, that it was not God but the devil who had created the world. In this way the archetype of the imperfect demiurge, who had enjoyed official recognition in Gnosticism, reappeared in altered guise. (The corresponding archetype is probably to be found in the cosmogonic jester 2 of primitive peoples.) With the extermination of the heretics that dragged on into the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, an uneasy calm ensued, but the Reformation thrust the figure of Satan once more into the foreground. I would only mention Jakob Bohme, who sketched a picture of evil which leaves the privatio boni pale by comparison. The same can be said of Milton. He inhabits the same mental climate. As for Bohme, although he was not a direct descendant of alchemical philosophy, whose importance is still grossly underrated today, he certainly took over a number of its leading ideas, among them the specific recognition of Satan, who was exalted to a cosmic figure of first rank in Milton, even emancipating himself from his subordinate role as the left hand of God (the role assigned to him by Clement). Milton goes even further than Bohrne and apostrophizes the devil as the true principium individuationis, a concept which had been anticipated by the alchemists some time before. To mention only one example: “Ascendit a terra in coelum, iterumque descendit in terram et recipit vim superiorum et inferiorum. Sic habebis gloriam totius mundi.” (He rises from earth to heaven and descends again to earth, and receives into himself the power of above and below. Thus thou wilt have the glory of the whole world.) The quotation comes from the famous alchemical classic, the Tabula Smaragdina, attributed to Hermes Trismegistus, whose authority remained unchallenged for more than thirteen centuries of alchemical thought. His words refer not to Satan, but to the filius philosophorum, whose symbolism, as I believe I have shown, coincides with that of the psychological “self.” The filius of the alchemists is one of the numerous manifestations of Mercurius, who is called “duplex” and “ambiguus” and is also known outside alchemy as “utriusque capax” capable of anything. His “dark” half has an obvious affinity with Lucifer.


Satan, who in Milton’s Paradise Lost is also called Lucifer,[1] on his way to bring about the downfall of Adam. Gustave DorĆ©’s illustration for Paradise Lost, Book III, lines 739–742 by John Milton.

47 1 In Milton’s time these ideas were very much in the air, forming part of the general stock of culture, and there were not a few Masters who realized that their philosophical stone was none other than the “total man.” The Satan-Prometheus parallel shows clearly enough that Milton’s devil stands for the essence of human individuation and thus comes within the scope of
psychology. This close proximity, as we know, proved a danger not only to the metaphysical status of Satan, but to that of other numinous figures as well. With the coming of the Enlightenment, metaphysics as a whole began to decline, and the rift which then opened out between knowledge and faith could no longer be repaired. The more resplendent figures in the metaphysical pantheon had their autonomy restored to them practically untarnished, which assuredly cannot be said of the devil. In Goethe’s Faust he has dwindled to a very personal familiaris, the mere “shadow” of the struggling hero. After rational-liberal Protestantism had, as it were, deposed him by order of the day, he retired to the shadier side of the Christian Olympus as the “odd man out,” and thus, in a manner not unwelcome to the Church, the old principle reasserted itself: Omne bonum a Deo, omne malum ab homine. The devil remains as an appendix to psychology.

472 It is a psychological rule that when an archetype has lost its metaphysical hypostasis, it becomes identified with the conscious mind of the individual, which it influences and refashions in its own form. And since an archetype always possesses a certain numinosity, the integration of the numen generally produces an inflation of the subject. It is therefore entirely in accord with psychological expectations that Goethe should dub his Faust a Superman. In recent times this type has extended beyond Nietzsche into the field of political psychology, and its incarnation in man has had all the consequences that might have been expected to follow from such a misappropriation of power.

473 As human beings do not live in airtight compartments, this infectious inflation has spread everywhere and given rise to an extraordinary uncertainty in morals and philosophy. The medical psychologist is bound to take an interest in such matters, if only for professional reasons, and so we witness the memorable spectacle of a psychiatrist introducing a critical study of Milton’s Paradise Lost. Meditating upon this highly incongruous conjunction, I decided that I should best fulfill my obligations if I explained to the well-intentioned reader how and why the devil got into the consulting-room of the psychiatrist. ~Carl Jung, Psychology and Religion.

Friday, July 7, 2017

Carl Jung: On the Psychology of the Concept of the Trinity.




C.G. Jung ON THE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE CONCEPT OF THE TRINITY

Lecture by Dr. C. G. Jung, Zrich
(translated from the German by Gary V. Hartman)
Originally published in Quadrant, XXVIII:1, Winter 1998.
Re-published here with the permission of Quadrant and the C.G. Jung Foundation of New
York (taken from CG Jung Page)

I. The Trinity

When I set about to discuss the Trinity, that central Christian symbol, from the psychological perspective, I do so with the awareness that I am entering an area seemingly far removed from psychology. In my opinion though,religions, with all that they are and express, are so closely connectedto the human soul that psychology least of all may disregard them. A notion like the Trinity belongs so much to the realm of theology
thattoday, of the secular disciplines, history at most deals with it.

People have even largely stopped thinking about dogma and specifically about a concept like the Trinity, which is so difficult to picture.

There are actually very few Christians any more–not to mention the educated public in general–who seriously think about the meaning ofthe dogma and
consider this concept a possible object of reflection.

Professor Speiser has linked the concept of the Trinity with Plato’s Timaeus.

I expressly say, “Trinity,” and not “triad.” (Divine triads occurred already at the primitive level: there are an immense number of archaic triads in the old and exotic religions.

The grouping in triads is something like an archetype of the history of religion on which the threefold Christian Trinity may well be modeled.

Yet the Trinity is not an example of a triad, but of a tri-unity, a three-oneness, indivisibilis trinitas,that is fundamentally different from the triad corresponding to a”tri-theism.”

Mere threeness is an unordered relationship of threeentities in proximity to one another, while the Trinity is the joining together of three as
one and, at the same time, an expansion of the oneinto three.

The one is lacking in a triad without which the Trinitywould be unthinkable.

Professor Speiser provided the derivation of the three from the one as it occurs in the Timaeus(31b to 32b).

The “one” lays claim to an exceptional position, which Professor Speiser has explained. We find this same, exceptional position again in the natural philosophy of the Middle Ages. For thelatter, the “one” was not a number at all, only the “two” was.

“Two”is the first number, because with it separation and increase occur and provide the basis on which counting first truly begins. With “two” an”other” enters in addition to the “one,” a phenomenon that makes an impression to such an extent that the word “other”

in many languages means “second.”

This “second” or “other” refers to a “one” thatdiffers from the “one” that is not a number. With two, namely, one emerges from oneness, which means nothing less than that the separation has reduced and transformed oneness into a “number.”

The “one” and the”other” form an opposition; not however one and two, for they are simple numbers that differ only in their arithmetic value and
nothingelse. The “one” attempts to retain its single and solitary qualities,while the “other”
strives to remain an other compared with the one. The “one” does not want to release the
“other,” because it would thuslose its own quality, and the “other” rejects the “one” in order
evento survive. To such an extent, a tension of opposites results betweenthe “one” and
the “other.” Every tension of opposites requires arelease valve from which the third comes
into being. The tensionresolves itself in the third inasmuch as the lost “one” again
emerges: “unitas ex semet ipsa derivans trinitatem,”in the words of Tertullian. The
absolute One is innumerable,indeterminate, and unrecognizable; only when it appears in
“one” doesit become recognizable, for the “other” required for this recognitionis missing in
the condition of the One. Three is, therefore, anunfolding of the one to recognizability, that
is to reality in spaceand time. A “one-next-to-another” is only possible in space and a”oneafter-
another” only in time. Three is the “one” become reality,which without the resolution
of the opposition between the “one” andthe “other” would remain devoid of any quality in
every determination. That this formulation is a fitting parallel to God’s Self- revelationas
the absolute One in the unfolding of the three is immediatelyapparent.
The relationship of “threeness” to oneness can be expressed as an equilateral triangle:
a=b=c,that is through the identity of the three, whereby the entirety ofthreeness is
contained in each of the different designations. Thisintellectual idea of the equilateral
triangle is a cognitivepre-requisite for the idea of the Christian Trinity, as ProfessorSpeiser
has noted. The Platonic idea makes it possible for us to thinkat least somewhat logically
yes, even mathematically, about themysterious essence of the Trinity. The true contours
of the dogma,however, have very little to do with the logical formula. The threedesignated
aspects in the model, a=b=c, are characterized in amanner that cannot possibly be
derived from the Platonicpre-requisites, inasmuch as the designations “Father,” “Son,”
and “HolySpirit” in no way follow from the three letters. The Platonic formulaonly supplies
an intellectual structure for contents that originatefrom completely different sources. The
Trinity may be largely graspedthrough the Platonic formula; as to contents, though, we
have to dependon psychological factors, on irrational data that cannot be
logicallypredetermined. In other words, we have to differentiate between thelogical idea of
the Trinity and its psychological reality.

The psychological factorsare the following: Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. If we start
with”Father,” “Son” results logically from it; but neither from “Father”nor from “Son” does
“Holy Ghost” result logically. We must, again, bedealing with special circumstances that
are due to psychologicalrequirements. According to the ancient teachings, the “Holy
Ghost” is “vera persona, quae a filio et patre missa est.” The “processio a patre filioque”is
a “being breathed” and not a “procreation” (being “begotten”) as isthe case with the Son.
This somewhat unusual notion is in keeping witha separation already existing in the
Middle Ages of corpus and spiramen(breathing), whereby the latter meant something
more than just “breath.”That was actually the designation for the “anima,” which is a being
ofbreath as its name suggests ( בnemos = wind). While “breathing”is an activity of the
body, when conceived of as autonomous it is asubstance apart from the body. The idea
being expressed is thatalthough the body lives, “life” is imagined as an
additional,autonomous quality, namely as a soul independent of the body. Appliedto the
formula of the Trinity, one would therefore have to say,”Father, Son,” and “Life,” where the
latter emanates from both or islived by both. The Holy Ghost as “Life” is a concept that
simplycannot be derived from the identity of Father and Son. It is much morea
psychological notion, that is, a factor based on an irrational,primordial idea.
In addition to the logic ofthe Platonic idea, an aspect that cannot be derived from the
Platonicidea forces its way into the concept of the Trinity. It does notfollow from the idea of
the equilateral triangle that one angle is Father, the second the Son, and the third the Holy
Ghost.

Pater

Filius Spiritus Sanctus

We are not dealing withmere letters designating the angles of a triangle but
withpersonalities: the unbegotten Father (P), the Son (F) begotten by theFather, and the
Spiritus Sanctus (S), the life of both that theyhave in common. This is a concept that
results from a primitiveassumption: the life of a body or an of individual is posited
asdifferent to some extent from either the body or the individual. Fromthis assumption
originates the idea, for example, of the immortal soulthat can separate from the body and
does not depend on the body for itsexistence. In this regard, the primitives have richly
developedconceptions of souls. There are souls, for example, that are immortal;others are
only loosely connected to the body and, therefore, wanderaway, get lost in the night, lose
their way in a dream, and can betaken prisoner. Primitives even conceive of souls that are
not in thebody at all yet still belong to an individual like the Bush Soul thatlives in the forest
in an animal’s body.

The juxtaposition of”individual” and “life” is a psychological factor resting primarily
onthe fact that a relatively undifferentiated mind–not yet capable ofthinking abstractly–is
not able to make subsumptions. Such a mind canonly place the characteristics it
perceives in things next to oneanother as, for example, an individual and his life, or
hisdisease–perhaps as a daimon–or his health, or his prestige as mana,and so forth. If
you analyze Indian philosophy you will notice thatthe Indian mind does the same thing.
We always believe it to beabstract. It is not at all abstract but rather concretely graphic.
The Indian mind places being and other qualities next to things asessences. These
concretizations are usually not related to one anotherlogically but are simply in proximity to
one another. At this levelthere are certainly triads and the like, but simply no Trinities,
aconcept that corresponds to a more advanced, intellectual stage. Atrinity is not a matter
of a tri-theistic coexistence, but of a unityeffected through reflection from internal and
reciprocal relationships.

By definition, the Father is the creator, the maker, the auctor rerum,the author of things
who, at a cultural level where there is not yetreflection, can simply be the One. The Other
results from the Onethrough separation. This separation need not take place as long as
noone takes any kind of critical position toward the auctor rerum,that is, as long as a
culture does not reflect on this unity and beginto criticize the work through which the
creator makes himself known. Far from critical judgment and moral conflict, the human
feeling foroneness also leaves the patris auctoritas untouched.
I observed this conditionof the original oneness of the father world in a Negroid tribe on
MountElgon. These people professed the conviction that the creator had madeeverything
good and beautiful. When I asked, “What about the evilanimals that kill your cattle?” they
said, “The lion is good andbeautiful.” And, “Your terrible diseases?” They said, “You lie in
thesun and it is beautiful.” I was impressed by this optimism. But inthe evening at six
o’clock this philosophy suddenly ceased, as I soondiscovered. From sundown on another
world ruled, the dark world, theworld of אy םk, which was evil, dangerous, fear-arousing.
Theoptimistic philosophy ended and another philosophy began, one of fearof ghosts and
the magical practices that supposedly protect against evil. With sunrise, however, the
optimism returned without inherentcontradiction.

Originally, human beings,the world, and the divinity were a whole, a unity untarnished
by anycriticism. This was the world of the Father and of human beings in achildhood state.
Despite the fact that twelve of twenty-four hours arelived in a dark world with dark beliefs,
the question never ariseswhether God might also be Other. The well-known question as to
theorigin of evil does not yet exist in the time of the Father. Thisquestion first arose as a
principal problem with Christianity. Apparently, the world of the father applies to a time
characterized bythe original oneness with all of Nature, a beautiful or ugly or
fearfuloneness. When, however, the question is raised, “Where does evil comefrom, why
is this world so bad and imperfect, why are there diseasesand other horrors, why must
people suffer?”–then reflection beginswhich assesses the revelation of the Father in his
works, and therewithcomes the doubt that expresses the splitting of the original unity. One
comes to the conclusion that the creation may be imperfect, yes,even to the idea that the
Creator has not done his job properly. Thegoodness and power of the Father cannot be
the sole principle ofcosmogony. Therefore, the One must be supplemented with Another.
Theworld of the Father is thereby fundamentally changed and superseded bythe world of
the Son.

The world of the Son wasthat time in which Greek critique of the world began, the time
ofGnosis in the widest sense, from which then Christianity emerged. Thearchetype of the
redeemer god and the original man is age-old. We haveno idea how old this idea is. We
have parallels that reach as far asIndia. The Son, the revealed god, who sacrifices himself
as a humanbeing in order to bring a world into being or to redeem the world fromevil is
found as early as the Purusha of Indian philosophy and also inthe notion of the
protanthropos (Original Man), Gayomart, inPersia. Gayomart, the son of the light god, falls
victim to darknessand must be freed again out of the darkness for the redemption of
theworld. This is the model for the Gnostic redeemer figures and for thedoctrine of Christ’s
redemption of humanity.

It is not difficult to see that this critical Weltanschauungthat raised the question of the
origin of evil and of sufferingcorresponds to another world in which one longed for
redemption, andfor that time of perfection when human beings were one with the
Father.One longed to return to the kingdom of the Father, but it was lost forgood, because
an irreversible increase and autonomy of humanconsciousness had taken place. Through
this change, one deposed theworld of the Father and entered the world of the Son, with its
divinedrama of redemption and ritual narrative of those things that theGod/man
accomplished during his earthly sojourn. The life of theGod/man now revealed things that
could not have been perceived in theFather as the One. For the Father as the original One
was not anythingdefined or definable and, actually, could not yet have been called”Father”
or have even been thought to exist. Only through hisincarnation in the Son did he become
“Father” and–thereby–somethingdefined and definable. By becoming a father and a
human being, herevealed the secret of his divinity in the human realm.

One of these revelations isthe Holy Ghost which, as a being existing before the world,
iscertainly eternal but can only appear in this world–to a certainextent empirically–when
Christ has left the earthly sphere. In amanner of speaking, he will be to the disciples what
Christ haspreviously been to them. He confers on them absolute power to performworks
that are perhaps even greater than those of the Son (John 14:12).The Holy Ghost is,
therefore, a figure that replaces Christ as hisequivalent and corresponds to that which
Christ had received from the Father.

In other words, from theFather comes the Son, and common to both is the life activity
of theHoly Ghost, which is “breathed” by both of them. Inasmuch as the HolyGhost is a
third and common element between the Father and the Son, itsignifies the abolition of
duality, of the “doubt” from the Son. Actually, it is that third thing that completes the three
and,therefore, is again Oneness. The unfolding of the One truly culminatesin the Holy
Ghost, following its juxtaposition to the Son as theFather. The descent into human form
signifies a becoming “Other,” asetting-itself-in-opposition to itself. From this moment on,
there aretwo, the “One” and the “Other,” which means a certain tension. Thistension
expresses itself in the suffering of the Son and finally in hisacknowledgment of God’s
forsaking him (Matt. 27:46).

Although the Holy Ghost isthe procreator of the Son (Matt. 1:18), as Paraclete it is the
Son’slegacy. In many ways, the Holy Ghost continues the work of redemptionby
descending on those who correspond to the divine election, and whoperform works that
are even “greater” than those of the Son. Theimplication, at least, is that the Paraclete is
the crowning figure ofthe work of redemption on one hand and God’s self-revelation on
theother. We could, therefore, say that the Holy Ghost represents thecompletion of the
Godhead and the divine drama. Undoubtedly theTrinity is a higher form of the notion of
God than a simple Unityinasmuch as it corresponds to a condition of greater reflection,
ofconsciousness, in human beings.

At first, human beingsremain necessarily outside this Trinitarian life process of
theGodhead. We have no way of thinking about this process except as animaginal one in
the human mind, in other words, as a platonic eidolon connected to an eternal eidos. At
the same time, this eidolondoes not express anything binding, nor does it establish its
foundation,for this foundation–namely God–is unrecognizable other than bysomething of
a similar nature. Theological thinking, to be sure–andthis is the great difficulty–often
behaves as if it were the HolyGhost, itself thinking or, rather, unfolding in the human brain.
In sodoing, theologians overlook the fact that the endless and often bitterdisputes
concerning the Trinity are nothing less than the very betrayalof the Holy Ghost. Hardly any
other discipline demonstrates thehigh-handedness of the human, all-too-human, mind, better
than that ofthe history of dogma. For this reason, psychology commits noencroachment on
another discipline if it joins in the discussion andraises questions about the individuals
who think up dogma and about thereasons that might cause them to do so.
The Trinitarian drama dealsin the first instance and overwhelmingly with the Godhead
and withmankind only inasmuch as we are in a pitiable condition and–with theexception of
Paradise–always were. It seems out of the question thatmankind, based on suggestions
in the writings of certain apostles, wasresponsible for fitting the Godhead with the form of
the Trinity. Wewould have no dogma of the Trinity had the church fathers not expendedan
unbelievable intellectual effort toward its creation. In actuality,they developed Trinitarian
thinking.

Seen psychologically then, what does Trinitarian thinking express? God, the summum
bonum, unfolds in and through the Son to become the Holy Ghost as the third
representing the perichoresis,the round dance, of the One. The Trinity is an harmonic self realization
of God insofar as it opens the way to God’s Kingdomfor individuals in need of
redemption. This process is round andcomplete and to that extent corresponds with the
Platonic idea. Butwhat happens to evil? One comes to the conclusion at which the
MiddleAges had already arrived: “Omne bonum a deo, omne malum a homine. ” If we do
not recognize the devil, we become the devil. We become that which disturbs God’s
harmony.

But what happens to theactual human being when all evil comes from him and all good
from God? On the one hand, we make a hash of Man, and, on the other, we elevatehim
above the gods–for ultimately something that so mars the beautifulworks of the Godhead
must be no small force! Man thereby becomes asecond God, a dark, counter-God, who
spoils the fun of the “good” God. We credit Man with a significance that exceeds even the
wildestfantasy. Here we get into considerable difficulty. If we pursue thedoctrine of the
Holy Ghost further (something that has not happened inthe Christian Church for
understandable reasons), we come to certainunavoidable conclusions. If the Father
appeared in the Son and shareshis breath in common with the Son and if the Son left this
Holy Ghostbehind for human beings, then the Holy Ghost also breathes out of Manand,
thereby, also breathes in common with Man, the Son, and theFather. Thereby Man moves
into the position of the Son of God, and thewords of Christ, “Ye are Gods,” appear in a
meaningful light.

How can this imperfect Man,however, be not only something like the host of the
Godhead, but alsoGod, himself? Would that not shake the Christian Church to the
verydepths of its foundations? Such Godlikeness the Church is not inclinedto concede to
Man.

That the doctrine of theParaclete was expressly bequeathed to Man represents
immensedifficulties. The Platonic formulation of threeness would certainly bethe final word
from a logical perspective. Psychologically, though, itwould not be the final word at all,
since the psychological factorsdemand attention to themselves in a terribly disruptive
manner. Why inthe world was the Trinity

not referred to as “Father,Mother, and Son?” That would have been much more
“logical” or”natural” than Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. In response we would haveto say
that the Trinity does not result from a merely natural conditionbut from human reflection
joined to the natural succession ofFather/Son. From Nature, this reflection abstracts life
and itsparticular soul and recognizes the latter as an extraordinaryexistence: Father and
Son are united in the same soul.

This psychological factorinterrupts the perfection of the formulation of threeness. It
makesthe formulation into a thematic combination that can no longer belogically
understood and is bound up in a mysterious and unexpected waywith an important
intellectual operation of human beings. The HolyGhost can be understood as life-breath
and as an attitude of love and,at the same time, as the third figure in the Trinity with all
thesignificance of the “third” and the culmination of the Trinitarianprocess. As such, it is
essentially something added from reflection tothe natural image of the Father/Son as the
hypostatizing of a noumenon.In this regard, it is noteworthy that early Christian
Gnosticismattempted to circumvent this difficulty by interpreting the Holy Ghostas Mother.
In doing so, Gnosticism, to begin with, remained with thearchaic natural image, tri-theism,
and also with the polytheism of thefather world. For it is simply natural that a father should
have afamily and that the son again embodies the father. This way ofthinking completely
corresponds to the father world. In addition, withthe mother interpretation, Gnosticism
reduced the specific meaning ofthe Holy Ghost to a primitive primordial image. It thereby
destroyedthe very thing that is the most essential content of the notion of theHoly Ghost.
The Holy Ghost is not only the life common to the Fatherand the Son. Rather, as the
Paraclete, it was also left behind forhuman beings by the Son to bring forth in them the
testimony and worksof the Children of God. It is precisely of the greatest significancethat
the idea of the Holy Ghost is not a natural image, but rather arecognition, a conception, of
the living nature of the Father and ofthe Son, the third between the One and the Other.
Logic says “Tertium non datur.”Life, however, and particularly psychological life, always
creates athird from the tension of duality, which naturally appears asincommensurable or
paradoxical. As “tertium,” the Holy Ghostmust, therefore, be incommensurable, even a
paradox. Correspondingly,the natural philosophers of the Middle Ages [i.e., the
alchemists]personified the “donum Spiritus Sancti” as a paradoxical, hermaphroditic
being, as a “unio oppositorum.”

Thus the Holy Ghost isheterogeneous, since it cannot be derived logically from the
naturalrelationship of father and son. We can only understand it as a conceptresulting
from the engagement of the human reflective process. Itthereby seems that Man’s coming
to consciousness is a part of thedivine life process or, in other words, that God becomes
manifest inthe act of human reflection. The nature of this concept (thehypostatizing of a
quality) corresponds to the necessity for primitivethinking to produce a reconciling abstract
notion by attributingconcrete extraordinary existence to the quality in question. Just asthe
Holy Ghost is a bequest to human beings, by the same token itsconception is a birth of
mankind and carries the qualities of its humancreators. Unnoticed, the figure of the Holy
Ghost includes mankind asa spiritual potentiality in the Trinitarian mystery, thereby
elevatingthe Trinity itself far above the parallels to mere nature of the triadand also above
Platonic threeness and its unity. The Trinity therebyreveals itself as a symbol which
encompasses divine and humansubstantiality. As K צpgen says, it is “not only a
manifestation ofGod’s, but also of mankind.”

A grain of truth lies inthe Gnostic interpretation of the Holy Ghost as Mother insofar as
theVirgin Mary was the instrument of God’s birth and thereby involved, asa human being,
in the Trinitarian drama. The figure of the Mother ofGod can, therefore, count as a symbol
of mankind’s essentialparticipation in the Trinity. The psychological justification for
thisassumption is founded on the circumstance that thinking–apredominantly masculine
activity–originally depended on theself-revelation of the unconscious, which possesses a
feminine qualityin men. This is the origin of the so-called “anima”–the knowledge
ofrevelation, which was personified as sapientia Dei or as Sophia–“in gremio matris sedet
sapientia patris.”These psychological connections make clearer the interpretation of
theHoly Ghost as Mother, but they contribute nothing to the understandingof the Holy
Ghost figure insofar as we do not appreciate why the Mothercould be the third when she
would more likely be the second.

While the Holy Ghost is anhypostasis of the life principle produced by the reflective
process,thanks to its peculiar substantiality, it appears as an extraordinary,even an
incommensurable third. Through its peculiarity it demonstratesprecisely that it is neither a
compromise nor simply a triadicaddition, but rather a more than logically expected release
of thetension between Father and Son. Because of the nature of the redemptiondrama,
the human reflective process is just what irrationally createsthe uniting Third: as the
Godhead descends into the human realm, Man,for his part, attains the realm of the
Godhead.

The thinking about theTrinity or Trinitarian thinking is the “Holy Ghost” to the extent
thatit is never basically mere rumination but gives expression to anincalculable
psychological occurrence. The driving forces which makethemselves felt in this thinking
are not conscious motives but springfrom an historical occurrence which, for its part, is
rooted inobscure, psychological preconditions. We cannot formulate thosepreconditions
better or more succinctly than as a “transformation fromFather to Son,” a transformation
from unity to duality, from anunreflecting condition to one of critical judgment. To the
extent thatTrinitarian thinking lacks personal motivation and its driving forceoriginates in
impersonal, collective, psychological conditions, itexpresses a necessity of the
unconscious psyche which towers over ourpersonal, intellectual needs. With the aid of
human thought, theTrinitarian symbol, arising from psychological necessity, is a
symbolpredestined to serve psychological transformation–relative to changingtimes–as a
redeeming formula for totality. From time immemorial, Manhas experienced any
expression of psychological activity that he hasnot intended or caused as demonic or
divine, “holy,” healing, andcompleting. In actuality, notions of God behave, as do all
imageswhich originate in the unconscious, in a compensatory or complementarymanner to
an individual’s over-all mood or behavior. Only by theirappearance on the scene does
psychological totality emerge in theindividual. The individual who is “only conscious,” only
“I,” is afragment insofar as he is conceived of apart from the unconscious. Themore the
unconscious is split off, the more powerful are the forms inwhich it confronts
consciousness: if not in the form of divinefigures, then in the less favorable form of
possessions (“obsessions”)and morbid affects. Gods are legitimate personifications of
theunconscious, for they manifest themselves out of unconscious psychicactivity. From
this kind of activity came Trinitarian thinking and itspassionate depths, which throw us–the
later descendants–into naiveastonishment. At present we no longer remember, or do not
yet know, towhat extent the depths of the psyche and Trinitarian thinking werechurned up
by a major change in the times. In the absence of thisknowledge, the Holy Ghost seems to
have faded away without havingreceived the answer it demands to the question it directs
at mankind.

II. The Problem of the Fourth

The Timaeus,from which the intellectual formula of the three is taken, begins withthe
ominous question: “Three there are, but where’s the fourth?” Aswe know, Faust takes up
this question in the Cabiri scene:
Three along we’ve brought
But come the fourth would not,
He said, he was the right one
Who thought for all of them.
When Goethe says the fourthis the one “who thought for all of them,” we might suspect
the fourthto be Goethe’s thinking, and we have to conclude that Goethe’s thinkingwas not
his strong suit. It is well known that Schiller had to makethe concept of an idea clear to
him. How defective Goethe’s thinking was we can gather from his Theory of Color
(Farbenlehre).Thinking was his “inferior function,” and we could not find a more
aptcharacterization for this function than the verse, “but come the fourth would not.” It
wanted to remain somewhere behind or below.

Ancient Greek philosophyused quaternarian thinking. For Pythagoras, not three but
four playedthe major role as, for example, in the so-called Pythagorean Oath. There it is
said of the number four, the tetraktys, that “ithas the roots of eternal Nature.” Also in the
Pythagorean school theopinion reigned that the soul was not a triangle, but a quadrangle.
The origin of these views lies somewhere in the dark prehistory of the Hellenistic spirit. The
quaternity is an archetype that occurs universally.

Four is the logicalprerequisite for every determination of totality. If one wants to
makesuch a determination, it must have a fourfold aspect. If, for example,one wants to
designate the totality of the horizon, one names the fourcardinal points. Three is not a
natural pattern of order, but anartificial one. Therefore, we always have four elements,
four primaryqualities, four colors, four castes in India, four paths in the senseof spiritual
development in Buddhism. Therefore, there are also fouraspects of psychological
orientation beyond which nothing more can bestated. For orientation, we have to have a
function that establishesthat something is, a second that identifies what it is, a
thirdfunction that says whether we like it or not, whether we want to acceptit or not, and a
fourth function that identifies where it comes fromand where it is going. Beyond this
nothing more can be said. Therewas an article published recently by Dr. Kindt-Kinder on
the structureof the concept of the nation. In it the author sets forth thefundamental
significance of the fourfold aspect and methodicallyapplies it. You also find the idea in
Schopenhauer that aphilosophical theorem has a four-part root. All of this stems from
thefact that the fourfold aspect represents the minimum for a determination of completeness.
Ideal completion, naturally, is round, is the circle. But its minimal, natural division is the
four.

If Plato had used theChristian concept of the Trinity–which was not the case–and
elevated,therefore, the three above everything else, we would have to objectthat it could
not be a determination of totality. A necessary fourthwould have been left out. Or had
Plato believed that a three-sidedform represented the good and beautiful and attributed to
it allpositive qualities, he would have deprived it of evil and imperfection.What could have
become of the latter aspects? In addition to otheranswers to this question Christianity has
replied that real evil is a privatio boni.This classic Christian formula, however, robs evil of
absoluteexistence and makes it a shadow with only a relative existencedependent on the
light.

Another Christian statementabout evil implies that it has personality as the Devil. The
Devil isnot included in the Trinity but stands outside and, because of theconcept of the
privatio boni, leads a mere shadow existence. In light of the powerful impact of evil,
though, this soundssuspiciously like a euphemism. As an autonomous and eternal
figure,the Devil corresponds more nearly to his role as Christ’s adversary andto the
psychological reality of evil.

The Church fathers mostvehemently opposed the notion of a quaternity of divine
principleswhile making the attempt to assign three persons to the nature of God. This
resistance against the quaternity is extraordinary given that thecentral Christian symbol,
the cross, is unmistakably a quaternity. Itrepresents, however, God’s suffering in the direct
collision with the world.

The definition of God as the summum bonum excludes evil from the start. Thus the
Devil, as simia Dei,remains outside the Trinitarian order and in opposition to it.
Therepresentation of the three-in-one God corresponds to a tricephalicimage of Satan as
it appears in Dante. It thereby suggests a true umbra trinitatis,an infernal Antitrinity
analogous to the Antichrist. Without a doubt,the Devil is an awkward figure: somehow or
other he stands awry in theChristian world order. For this reason, one readily plays down
hisimportance with euphemistic detraction or even by shutting one’s eyesto his existence.
One is more likely to enter him in mankind’s debitcolumn. Those who do so are the same
people who would protest mightilywere the sinful individual also to credit himself with the
origin ofall good. A glance in the Holy Scriptures, though, suffices to show usthe Devil’s
importance in the drama of divine redemption. Had thepower of evil been as minimal as
certain theological opinions wouldhave it appear, the world would not have needed the
Godhead itself tocome to earth. Or it would have lain within human powers to make
theworld good, which is also a childish, modern belief.

Whatever the Devil’smetaphysical position might be, in psychological reality evil
presentsan effective, yes, even a threatening, limitation to the good. It isnot going too far
for one to assume that not only day and night holdthe world in equilibrium, but also good
and evil. This is the reasonwhy the victory of the good is always a special act of grace.
If we overlook the unique,Persian dualism, there is no real Devil in the early period
ofmankind’s spiritual development and, thus, none in the Old Testament. Instead, there
was only a lemur-like riffraff haunting ruins anddeserted locations. The actual Devil first
appears as Christ’sadversary. Thereby, God’s world of light became manifest, on the
onehand, and the abyss of hell, on the other. The Devil is autonomous. He cannot be
subject to God’s dominion, for he would not be in aposition to be Christ’s adversary but
only God’s machine. Insofar asthe One, indefinable, unfolds into Two, it becomes
definable, namelythe man, Jesus, the Son and the Logos. God’s act of love in the Son
isopposed by the diabolical negation.

Inasmuch as the Devil wascreated by God as an angel, who then fell “like a bolt from
heaven,” helikewise emerged from the Godhead and became “Lord of this world.” Itis also
indicative that the Gnostics expressed him sometimes as theimperfect demiurge,
sometimes as the depraved, saturnian archon,Ialdabaoth. Pictorial representations of this
archon thoroughlycorrespond in their details to a devilish demon. He represented
thepower of darkness from which mankind was redeemed by Christ’s coming. The
archons, too, emerged from the womb of unrecognizable beginning,that is, from the same
source that Christ, too, proceeded.

A thinker of the MiddleAges noticed that when God divided the upper waters from the
lowerwaters on the second day of creation, he did not say it was good in theevening as he
did on all the other days. God did not do so because onthe second day he had created the
binarius, the number two, theorigin of evil. We find a similar theme again in a Persian
accountwhere Ahriman’s origin is traced back to a doubting thought ofAhuramazda’s.
Non-Trinitarian thinking can scarcely escape the logicof the following schema:

Pater
Filius Diabolus

It is, therefore, notunusual to find the idea of the Antichrist so early. On one hand itmay
be related to the astrological synchronicity of the dawning Pisceanage: on the other, it has
to do with the increasing realization of theduality posited through the Son which–for its
part–is againprefigured in the symbol of the fish: )-( .

In our diagram, Christ andthe Devil appear as equivalent opposites, which is hinted at
by the”adversary” idea. This opposition represents a conflict in the extreme and, thereby,
also a secular task for mankind until the time or untilthat shift in time when good and evil
begin to relativize each other,to question themselves, and when a cry goes up for a
“beyond good andevil.” In a Christian age caught up in the realm of Trinitarian thinking
such deliberation is downright impossible. The conflict istoo intense for the Devil to be
granted any logical relationship to theTrinity other than that of an absolute and
incommensurable opposite. In an emotionally-charged opposition–in a conflict, in
otherwords–thesis and antithesis cannot be considered together. Such consideration is
only possible for a cooler deliberation on therelative value of good and evil. Then, to be
sure, nothing could bemore dubious than a life “breathed” in common not only by the
Fatherand his light Son but by the Father and his dark Creature. The unspeakable conflict
posited by the duality, resolves itself in a fourth principle that restores the unity of the One
in its completedevelopment. The rhythm is a three-step; the symbol a quaternity.
Pater

Filius Diabolus
Spiritus Sanctus

The dual nature of theFather is by no means unknown to the Church. We see this in
theallegory of the monoceros or rhinoceros, an image showing Jehovah’sraging moods
which threw the world into confusion and which could betransformed into love only in the
lap of a pure virgin. Luther, too,knew a deus absconditus. Murder and slaughter, war,
diseaseand crime, and every abomination falls within the unity of the Godhead.When God
manifests his being and becomes something defined, namely adefinite human being, his
opposites have to fall apart: here is goodand there is evil. Thus the opposites latent in the
Godhead separatein the begetting of the Son and manifest themselves in the oppositionof
Christ/Devil. The Persian opposition of Ormuzd/Ahriman may havebeen the implied basis
for this Christian duality. The world of theSon is the world of moral duality, without which
human consciousnesswould hardly have accomplished the advance in
intellectualdifferentiation that it actually has. That people today are nottotally enthusiastic
over this advance is due to attacks of doubt inmodern consciousness.

The Christian individual isan individual suffering morally who, in his suffering, needs
thecomforter, the Paraclete. The individual cannot overcome the conflictwith his own
resources, just as he did not create it. He depends ondivine comfort and reconciliation, on
the spontaneous revelation ofthat Spirit that does not obey human intention but comes
and goes as itwills. That Spirit is an autonomous psychic occurrence, a stillnessafter the
storm, a reconciling light in the darknesses of humanunderstanding, and the mysterious
order of our psychic chaos. The HolyGhost is a comforter like the Father, a still, eternal,
andunfathomable One, in which God’s love and horror are fused together inwordless
unity. In this unity, the original meaning of the yetmeaningless Father world is restored
within the confines of humanexperience and reflection. From a quaternarian perspective,
the HolyGhost is a reconciliation of opposites and thereby answers thatsuffering in the
Godhead that Christ personifies.

The Pythagorean quaternitywas still a fact of nature, an archetypal form of perception,
but itwas not a moral problem, let alone a divine drama. Therefore, it “wentbelow.” It was
merely a natural and, for that reason, an unreflectedperception of the nature-bound mind.
The separation which Christianitywrenched open between nature and spirit enabled the
human mind to thinknot only beyond nature, but also against nature and thereby prove–
Imight say–its divine freedom. This impetus from the darkness ofnature’s depths
culminates in Trinitarian thinking, which moves in thatPlatonic, hyperuranian realm. Rightly
or wrongly, though, Timaeus’question remains: “What has become of the fourth?” It has
remained”below” as an heretical quaternity image or as the Hermetic tradition’s speculation
about natural philosophy.

I think with considerablesatisfaction of a medieval author (Gerard Dorn, mentioned
above)–hewas an alchemist–who pursued this idea and criticized the quaternity,a concept
handed down from earliest times in the tradition of his art. It occurred to him that the
quaternity was a heresy, since theprinciple ruling the world consisted of a Trinity. The
quaternity hadto come from the Devil, in other words. Four would be the double oftwo and
the two was created on the second day of creation, a resultwith which God was apparently
not completely satisfied. The binarius isthe devil of duality and–simultaneously–also the
feminine. (In theEast as in the West, even numbers are feminine.) What was
displeasingabout creations’ second day consisted apparently in the fact that onthis
ominous day a duality was revealed in the nature of the Father,similar to that in
Ahuramazda. From this duality in the Father’snature emerged the serpent, the
quadricornutus serpens, which thereupon seduced an Eve who was changed because of
her binarian nature. “Vir a Deo creatur, mulier a simia Dei.”

The Devil is the ape and God’s aping shadow, Gnosticism’s antimimon pneuma.But he
is the “Lord of this world” in whose shadow Man, too, is bornand with whose original sin
Man is perishably encumbered. According tothe Gnostic view, Christ threw off the shadow
with which he was bornand remained without sin. Through his sinless condition
hedemonstrated his lack of contamination with the dark world ofnature-bound Man, which
the latter attempted to shake off to no avail. (“Earth’s residue to bear / hath sorely pressed
us,” etc.) Theconnection to physis, the material world and its demands, is the causeof
Man’s hybrid condition. On the one hand, he possesses the capacityfor enlightenment,
but, on the other, he is subject to the “Lord ofthis world” (“Miserable being I; who will
deliver me from the body ofthis death?”). Thanks to his sinless condition, Christ, by
contrast,lives in the Platonic realm of the pure idea, which only Man’s thinkingcan attain,
but not he, himself, in his totality. Strictly speaking,Man is the bridge that spans the chasm
between “this world,” the realmof the dark tricephalus, and the heavenly Trinity. Therefore,
even inthe era of unconditional belief in the Trinity, there always existed asearch for the
lost fourth–from the Greek Neopythagoreans to Goethe’s Faust.Although these searchers
considered themselves Christians, they wereonly partial Christians in that they devoted
their lives to an opus, which had as its goal the redemption of that serpens
quadricornutus, that anima mundi ensnared in matter, and that fallen Lucifer. What lay
hidden in matter for them was the lumen luminum, the sapientia Dei,and their task was a
“gift of the Holy Ghost.” Our quaternity formulasupports their claim, for the Holy Ghost, as
the synthesis of theoriginal One and the split One, flows from a light and a dark source.
“For in the harmony of wisdom, right and left powers are engaged,” saysthe Acts of John.
The reader will havenoticed that in our quaternity schema, two equivalent elements
crosseach other. On one side is the oppositional identity of Christ and hisadversary, while
on the other is the unfolding of the Father’s unityinto the multiplicity of the Holy Ghost. The
cross produced in thismanner is the symbol of the Godhead’s suffering that redeems
humanity. This suffering could not have occurred and would not have had todemonstrate
its effect on anything, had it not been for the presence ofa power opposing God–namely,
this world and its lord. The quaternityschema recognizes this presence as an undeniable
factor by laying thebonds of this world’s reality on Trinitarian thinking. Platonic,intellectual
freedom makes possible no determination of totality, buttears the light part of the divine
portrait loose from the dark half. This freedom was, in large part, a cultural phenomenon
and the nobleroccupation of those fortunate Athenians to whose lot it fell not to beHelots.
Only he can elevate himself above nature who has another tocarry earth’s heaviness for
him. How would Plato have philosophizedhad he been his own house slave? What would
Rabbi Jesus have taught,if he had had a wife and children to support? If he had had to
tillthe fields in which the bread he broke grew, had had to weed thevineyard in which the
wine he dispensed ripened? The dark heaviness ofearth belongs to the image of totality.
In this world, nothing goodlacks an evil, no day a night, no summer a winter. But civilized
Manmay lack a winter, for he can protect himself against the cold. He maylack the dirt, for
he can bathe himself–the sin, for he can prudentlyseparate himself from other people and
thereby avoid many an occasionfor evil. He can believe himself to be good and pure
because necessitydoes not instruct him any differently. By contrast, natural Man has
acompleteness that one can admire but there is actually nothing thereworth admiring: it is
unending unconsciousness, mire and muck.

If, however, God wants tobe born as a human being and to unite humanity in the
community of theHoly Ghost, he will suffer the terrible torment of having to bear theworld
in its reality. It is a cross; yes, he himself is the cross. The world is God’s suffering and
each individual human being who alsowishes to even approximate his own totality knows
very well that thatmeans carrying a cross. But the eternal promise of bearing a cross isthe
Paraclete.

These ideas are present with moving beauty and simplicity in the American Negro film
Green Pastures.In the movie, God had governed the world for many years with
curses,thunder, lightning, and floods, but it never prospered. Finally, herealized that he,
himself, would have to become human to get to theroot of the evil.
After he had come to knowthe suffering of the world, this God become man left behind
acomforter, the third person of the Trinity. He did so in order that hemight reside in many
individuals, particularly in those who in no wayenjoyed the prerogative or possibility of a
sinless condition. As theParaclete, God drew closer to real human beings and their
darkness evenmore than he had as the Son. The light God stepped onto the bridge of Man
from the day side; God’s shadow, however, from the night side. Whowill decide this
terrible dilemma that threatens to burst the miserablevessel with shudders and
intoxications never before heard of? It willlikely be the manifestation of a Holy Ghost from
Man himself. Just asonce Man became manifest from God, so, too, when the wheel
comes fullcircle, may God become manifest from Man. Since, however, evil accompanies
every good in this world, the antimimon pneuma inMan will create a human self-deification
from the inhabitancy of theParaclete. It will produce an inflation of self-presumptuousness,
theprologue to which Nietzsche’s case has already outlined clearly. Themore
unconsciously the religious problem of the future presentsitself, the greater is the danger
for Man to misuse the divine core inhimself as laughable or demonic self-inflation. He
should, instead,remain conscious of being nothing more than the stall in which the
Lordwas born. Even on the highest peak, we will never be beyond good andevil, and the
more we learn about the inextricable entanglement of goodand evil the more uncertain
and confused our moral judgment willbecome. In the process, it will be of no use
whatsoever to throw ourmoral criteria on the scrap heap and “erect new tablets”
(followingfamiliar patterns). Just as in the past, so into all the future willwrongs committed–
intended or considered–avenge themselves on ourpsyche, unmoved by whether the world
revolves around us or not. Ourknowledge of good and evil has decreased with our
increasing knowledgeand experience, and it will decrease still more in the future
withoutour being exempted from ethical demands. In this most extremeuncertainty, we
need the illumination of a Ghost to make us holy andcomplete, a Ghost that can be
anything else, just not ourunderstanding. Thereby we hint at the mystery of inner
experience, forwhich a capacity to touch more directly or consciously is denied us.

Lecture by Dr. C. G. Jung, Zrich
(translated from the German by Gary V. Hartman)
Originally published in Quadrant, XXVIII:1, Winter 1998.
Re-published here with the permission of Quadrant and the C.G. Jung Foundation of New
York (taken from CG Jung Page)