by Nestor Ravilas
by Fred Laceda
The emergence of modernity is the beginning of the end for an old world. The passing of the pre-modern world is hailed particularly by the Enlightenment as humanity’s way to maturity. The religious hegemony was shattered, leaving in its wake the church on a house arrest. Nietzsche declared God is dead. The new secular consensus has shown God the door, exiled to the private longings of the faithful. The optimistic air breathed by 19th century peeps was literally replaced by the acid gas of the early part of the next century. After two centuries, the twentieth seems to be the limit-test of the modern adventure. Fissures, caesurae, crisis, and the collapse of old certainties are reality check to the utopia by modern, enlightened humanity. What seems to be a promising future for collective humanity is turning like a bad dream; a nightmare that up to now haunts the modern period.
by: Nestor Ravilas
Religion is all about symbols. It is the modest attempt to bridge the colossal gap that separates the heaven from the earth; making gods immanent and thus reduced them as our own, walking among us. As in theoretical knowledge, artistic representations of the divine in the same manner are also contextual. Their emergence belongs too to particular occasions that inspired their creation to facilitate this contact between the divine and the profane. It is about meaning; what the symbol diffuses so as to goad its believers to keep the struggle alive, whatever it might be. The symbol or a memorial however is a fixation of the occasion, fossilizing the event into particular epoch in the past, making it as property of history. Meaning however is always alive and fresh within the memory of those who went through the event, and it is always belong to the present. Memorials turn to become public properties, but the memories die with its owner, so as their meaning. What we have in the end were symbols deprived of their significance.
by Nestor Ravilas
It is interesting sometimes to imagine how social culture and its supposed “originator” correlate with each other. It needs some nerves to thread the tedious way comparing robust cultural practices from the original events that inspired them. In traditional paradigm wherein ontology must always precede practice, a foundation for what we are doing should always be available as its legitimizer. This implies that we could not have cultural practices just because people agreed to have it. We always inquire on the efficient cause, factual or fictional, that gave birth to social culture.
by Nestor Ravilas
Many years ago, one of my professors in theology asked our class with a question that haunts me until now. He said, “What if there is nothing we could gain from this faith, no heaven or any destiny at the end of history waiting for us and no answers to all our prayers, will you still serve and obey God?” The class in an instant split up into two: those who were able to compose themselves instantly retorted affirmatively while the others went confused and stupefied simply cringed in silence. I found myself in the second group, only that my silence probably lingers much longer than the rest. While some probably scandalized and sickened by the idea of inviting the outcasts and marginalized instead of those we endeared and cherished when you prepare a banquet, I could still, on the other hand, think of it as sane and acceptable idiosyncrasy. I could still adhere on self-debasement and therefore refrain from becoming so aggressive and so dominating as my natural inclination for will-to-power dictates and therefore just watch others grabbing seats of honor for themselves while I settled in the corner hoping that the host would place me to a better place later. Rather, I find the reasons for doing such ridiculous self-debasement more perplexing than the revolutionary ethical requirements of Jesus.