A just Israel

Martin Buber's great-granddaughter, Tirzah Agassi, writes about the current situation in the Middle East.

We can’t turn back the clock and undo mistakes that have already been made. But we can note the wisdom of Buber’s warnings, understanding our own people’s contribution to the chronic mistrust between ourselves and the Arab world.

It is easy to point to Arab provocations that have contributed to the current horror. But how about our own part in its creation? What could we have done differently? And what can we still do differently? How does Israel, the Jewish state, live up to Buber’s vision of “prophetic politics” which, like our prophets, charges us “to remain ever cognizant of the effects of our community’s actions on others and, accordingly, to ‘sin’ no more than is absolutely necessary”?

Leap of faith?

I was thinking about yesterday's post and the phrase "beautiful and terrifying leap of faith." In some ways, that phrase is a cop-out. It really doesn't mean anything. It may have a nice literary ring to it, but it is neither precise nor practical.

"Leap of faith," of course, refers to Kierkegaard. Without delving into his dense and complicated theology, suffice it to say that I tended to side with him on matters of faith rather than with one of his fiercest critics, Francis Schaeffer. I reference Schaeffer because his methodology is so prevelant in many circles today. At least the circles I run, or ran, in. I believe that Schaeffer places too much emphasis on the use of the mind to find our way to God, to discover truth with a capital "T."

However, I also have to agree with Kierkegaard's critics that he places too much emphasis on subjective and individual faith.

So where does that leave me? And why did I refer to the "leap of faith?"

Most of my early spiritual journey was shaped by Schaeffer's methods of searching for Truth. Eventually, I tired of Schaeffer's dogmatism and sought refuge in Kierkegaard. Over the past few years, I have found a third way. I have slowly returned to Schaeffer, modified by Kierkegaard, and framed by Marcel, Buber and Levinas.

What is missing in both Schaeffer and Kierkegaard are the categories of hope, trust, community, love, mystery, and responsibility. Schaeffer may offer an explanation for the way things are, yet he does not touch us where true change is possible: the heart. Kierkegaard touches on hope and love and despair, yet he has us face the struggle alone, without companions.

Marcel, Buber and Levinas affirm the mind, address the heart and tell us that we need each other to find Truth. It is a "leap of faith." But it is not taken alone.

Novel and documentary series

One thing about my personality that I wish I could change is the propensity to work in bursts rather than consistently and steadily. I continue to doubt my will to finish my novel. I keep getting sidetracked on other projects I want to work on, like the documentary series I recently outlined called "Along the Narrow Ridge." It is a six part series that examines the philosophy and ethics of Martin Buber, Emmanuel Levinas, Gabriel Marcel and possibly Kierkegaard, although perhaps just briefly. Much has been written about Kierkegaard already, but maybe there is room for my perspective.

Commitment to these projects demands faith. Faith is all too often quenched by debilitating fear.

Clients

I spent the last eight hours with clients, shooting a video in our studio. We talked, joked, laughed, argued and shared a meal together.

Martin Buber wrote in depth about the loneliness of modern man before men whom he associates with but does not meet. What is an appropriate level of "meeting?" The producer-client relationship is most often a false relationship: I, as the video producer, must guard my comments, must watch how I give direction to insure the client will not only continue to work with us today, but on future projects as well. And they realize the power they possess. We ensure that the client is never thirsty, that his jokes are laughed at, that his comments are listened to no matter how outrageous they may be. It is two false selves circling each other in an awkward dance.

Is it possible to have true "meeting" between two false selves? If it is not, is it appropriate to accept the world as it is and treasure the small moments of genuine meeting?