An Inquiry into the Nature of Being.
eBook Edition, Non-fiction, 52 Essays, 240 pages
Some of you may be familiar with a few of Stan Kapuscinski's essays printed, over time, in Authors’ Den. Here, at long last, INHOUSEPRESS presents the complete compilation of 52 essays, sharing author's thoughts on Reality. The articles cover the period between November 1996 and May 1997. The author updated them all recently.
Always perceptive, often humorous, as often 'deep', Kapuscinski offers us his reflections on the Nature of Being. The author delves into ancient scriptures, as well as into the latest scientific discoveries, to explain his Perception of Reality.
Stanislaw Kapuscinski, (aka Stan I.S. Law), architect, sculptor and prolific writer, demonstrates his unique perspective on subjects as diverse as The Last Things, Phenomenology, Life, Power, Body and Soul, Freedom, Duality, Pleasure, Prayers, Traditions, Myth and Reality, Sex, Salvation, and many others. This collection helped the author to develop his philosophy, which hence manifests itself in his many novels.
Complete list of essays can be viewed on http://stanlaw.ca/br1.html
Beyond Religion, Volume I, (ISBN 978-0-9780267-9-0) is available at http://inhousepress.ca/#ebooks ($7.00 payable through PayPal)
or by contacting editor(at)inhousepress.ca
Excerpt
What amazes me is not that I’d put so many thoughts on paper, so many years ago, but that all these thoughts, these ideas, remain fresh to this day. Perhaps, in spite of our growing knowledge and scientific advancement, truth doesn’t age, but it needs to be continuously rediscovered.
Sincerely,
Stanisław Kapuściński, March 2009
INTRODUCTION
Many, many years ago, perhaps in another lifetime, I’ve been a reasonably ardent member of an Orthodox Church. My life was secure. I knew that if something went wrong I could always rely on someone to take the blame, and even to give me credit when credit was due. I also wasn’t too worried about the distant future. I knew that even if I broke any of the Commandments it wouldn’t matter too much. I’d been told, frequently, that I was born a sinner, originally blemished, so to speak; but not to worry, Jesus died for my sins, so all would be all right. Just have faith, they’d told me. And then, there was always Confession. Five minutes of discomfort, a few Hail Marys and I was on my merry way to heaven. One day. After I died.
Convenient.
If it weren’t for the paradoxes, I’d probably still be nestled among the flock. After all, they were my friends (some still are). I shared their customs, traditions, emotional security. Being a sheep wasn’t half-bad. All major decisions regarding the welfare of my soul have been made for me. I could always find a sacerdotal friend who would straighten out the error of my ways. In fact I was encouraged not to think too much. Not good for the soul. Leave it to the experts. Why not? They’re paid for it.
Life could have been so easy... except for those glaring paradoxes.
How can God be good and allow wars to happen? How could Jesus say suffer the little children to come to me and then watch them suffer malnutrition in Africa? Why should we become as little children; sure they’re cute, but aren’t they also egocentric, irresponsible? How can God be infinitely good and infinitely just––both at the same time? How can a newborn not go to heaven just because some priest arrived too late to sprinkle water on his pate? How can I go to heaven if heaven is within me? Why must I love my enemies if everybody else hates theirs? Why did the soul enter my body?
Should I listen to the church or to the Bible?
I felt stifled. I could no longer breathe inside the thick, musty walls of the ecclesiastical protocol. Limited by statements ex cathedra, by the infallibility, by symbols that replaced their original meaning, by ritual that took over from the substance. Perhaps the church was protecting the truth from unholy eyes. My eyes. What of the other billion pairs of eyes? Are they unholy too? And what happened to those who knock; is there no longer anyone at the door? I was no longer prepared to wait to have someone open the door for me––what if they lost the key? But more than anything, I was not prepared to wait until I die––before entering paradise.
And there was more.
There were the biblical statements such as: Ye are gods, Be ye perfect, Whosoever believes in me shall never die.... If I never die, how can I go to heaven? Oxymoron? I spent one year reading, and rereading, the Bible. End to end. I became aware of the poetry, of the enticing charm of biblical symbolism, of the incredible source of knowledge. Strangely, I’ve learned nothing about dying. Only how to live. How to rejoice in the gift of life, perhaps forever. I also grew seriously fed up with all the paradoxes. Einstein said that God didn’t play dice with the universe. Well, I considered myself part of the universe. If God had a plan for the universe, I wanted to know what it was. Somewhere the Bible claimed that I’ve been created in God’s image. Perhaps if I studied the image, I might also learn something about God. And that’s when my journey really started.
I asked myself the seemingly simple question: Who am I?
It seems to me that we are all pilgrims. The ideas that follow are stages in my own journey. Some later insights may even contradict some of the previous ones. This is the excitement of travel. As the scenery changes, our understanding gains a new, perhaps greater perspective. I was moving from the known into the unknown. I continue to do so. I’ve discovered that often the fastest way to travel is to keep very still. Paradox? No. You’ll see. Many of you may have passed this way a long time ago. Still others may not have reached this or that particular mile. A few among you will recognize the twists and turns in my road. It is not always easy to stay on the straight and narrow. Some of you might even enjoy taking the journey with me. If you do, I shall no longer be alone.
Nor will you.
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