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The questions.


Ah, look: the Holy Week prayer tent.

I like sad art. My mother doesn’t.

Ben says my emails are all so! happy! and so! excited! and I’m just lit up for lines and lines, and that I then always swing the pendulum. Everything becomes terrible and sad and joyless and morose. I guess that’s kind of accurate, about my emails and about me. Maybe I’ll try to start throwing in one last word of hope, so I can halt those accusations of pessimism.

I’m reading Abraham Joseph Heschel, though:

Religion is an answer to man’s ultimate questions. The moment we become oblivious to ultimate questions, religion becomes irrelevant, and its crisis sets in. The primary task of philosophy of religion is to rediscover the questions to which religion is an answer. The inquiry must proceed both by delving into the consciousness of man as well as by delving into the teachings and attitudes of the religious tradition.
God in Search of Man: A Philosophy of Judaism, emphasis in the original.

Doesn’t that mean that we have to keep seeing how things are broken and terrible and sad and flawed? Doesn’t that mean that we have to keep knowing that we have to keep asking?

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