Two contrary views of religion are engaged in a momentous struggle for the human spirit. While
religion is, for one, endowed with answers to the fundamental questions of existence, for the other there is only the relentless silence of the abyss. Since life is constituted in vulnerability, answers, which attest to offer a counterbalance to the terrifying abyss would have considerable appeal. Unfortunately, the guarantor of those answers has been steadily eroded from the hearts of man until His absence has become even more disturbing than the silent terror itself. Faced with His absence, those sects, which are addicted to answers, have been forced to withdraw behind the confines of fundamentalism in hopes that their hymns of fidelity will entice the Almighty’s return.
While the oracles of fundamentalism can provide the illusion of security, any liturgy predicated upon the allure of simplistic answers to the inexhaustible mysteries is built upon the assurances of
concealment. The quest for the sacred arises not from the desire to diminish the perplexities of ontology, but from the need to deepen them. Contrary to conventional sentiments, heaven is not even a place, but a reflexive myth, which, by its juxtaposition, is able to give metaphysical contrast to existence. Since the ontological difference is inexhaustible, any attempt to leap its divide is destined to fail, doomed to fall back unto existence. Paradoxically, however, it is that same shortfall which compels humanity to plumb the mysteries by questioning the very depth of existence. Surprising as it may seem, the withdrawal of the divine stems not from the intrusions of science, but from the misuse of God’s name to cover over those mysteries. While those who misuse His name allege their utterances to be expressions of devotion, yet the concealment of ontology is, nonetheless, linguistic idolatry. By contrast, ontological displacement not only articulates the distinction between the sacred and the profane, but in so doing, it also punctuates the difference between who we are and who we can be. Since what is and what can be is the cardinal
difference, which articulates free will, ontological displacement is the decisive juxtaposition, which makes possible the affirmation of our humanity.
To partake in free will, however, humanity must be willing to hurtle into the abyss; and since the abyss is abundantly ample, falling must be our destiny. Dread not falling, but embrace its sublimity. The fallen angels show us the way. They yearn not for the idolatry of security, but for existential displacement. They yearn for that displacement because it is only through falling by which free will can come into alignment with virtue. They are not afraid to fall because once they have bared witness to that alignment, they understand free will to be humanity’s most fundamental dignity. Their embrace of ontological displacement is the affirmation that falling is no disgrace, but indeed a state of grace. It is by that grace that each of us has the opportunity to summon virtue into existence.