埃克哈特：不能被命名
Eckhart: That Which Cannot Be Named
一、布道
一三零零年代初。德国莱茵兰地区。一个修道院的小教堂里。
讲坛上站着一个多明我会的修道士。他六十岁左右。穿着多明我会的黑白长袍。他的头发花白，脸上有一种长期思考留下的瘦削。
他正在用德语讲一篇布道。
这不是当时通常的做法。当时教会的正式语言是拉丁语。重要的神学讨论用拉丁语。布道有时候用方言，但主要是给不识字的农民听的简单训诫——"行善积德"，"避免犯罪"，"为来世做准备"那种。
但讲坛上这个人在用德语讲一些不一样的东西。
他在讲：上帝。
但他讲的上帝不是一般教堂里那个上帝——一般教堂讲的上帝是有属性的——慈悲，公义，全能，全知。一般教堂讲的上帝有形象——天上的父，三位一体，圣子降生。
他讲的不是这个。
他讲——
"上帝是一个虚无。"
听众里有几个老妇人。一个磨坊主。两个修女。一个识字但不懂拉丁文的市民。他们听不太懂他在说什么，但他们感觉到他在说一件不一般的事。
他继续讲——
"如果你能想到的任何东西都不是上帝，那么剩下的那个不能被想到的东西，就是上帝。"
"如果你说上帝是善，你已经把上帝降低了——因为善是一个我们能想的范畴。上帝在所有我们能想的范畴之外。"
"上帝不是一个对象。上帝甚至不是一个'是'。上帝是在'是'之上的那个没有名字的。"
听众里有一个女人——也许是一个女工，也许是一个女裁缝——她从来没有受过神学训练。她听不懂"在'是'之上的那个没有名字的"这句话的精确意思。但是她听了之后她的眼睛湿了。
她不知道为什么。
她只是感觉到这个站在讲坛上的修道士在讲一些她一直在等的话。
她听过一辈子的布道。她听过的所有布道都告诉她要做什么——要忏悔，要奉献，要服从教会，要相信教义。这些话她都听了，她也都做了。但是她心里有一个东西从来没被这些话碰到——她心里有一个深处，那里有什么是所有教义都没碰到的。
这个站在讲坛上的修道士在碰那个深处。
他没有给她答案。他没有给她教义。他没有告诉她要做什么。他只是在指——指着一个没有名字的东西，告诉她那个东西真实存在。
她回家。她继续做她的工作——也许是织布，也许是做面包。她不会再去参加他的布道——那个修道院太远，她不能经常去。她不能讨论她听到的——她没有词。
但是她心里那个深处现在被命名了——被命名为"不能被命名"。
这就够了。
这个站在讲坛上的修道士叫埃克哈特（Meister Eckhart）。
他活的时候被叫做"师傅"——拉丁文 Magister，德文 Meister——他在巴黎大学拿过两次神学博士的位置（这是当时神学界的最高荣誉之一），他做过多明我会萨克森省的省长，他管理过几十个修道院。他活着的时候是中世纪德国最重要的神学家之一。
但是他不是因为这些位置被记住的。
他是因为这种布道被记住的——他用德语对普通人讲他们一辈子从来没听过的关于上帝的话。
他活着的时候被异端审判。 他死的时候审判没有结束。 他死后教皇通谕宣布他的二十八条命题中有十七条异端或可疑。
他的著作被禁了两百多年。
然后他的德开始展开。
二、神性
埃克哈特讲的最核心的东西是什么？
他做了一个区分。
他区分上帝（Gott）和神性（Gottheit）。
上帝是我们能想的——三位一体，创世主，审判者，救赎者。上帝有属性，有动作，有跟人的关系。上帝可以被讨论，可以被理解（部分地），可以被祈祷。
神性是上帝之上的那个东西。
神性不是上帝的一个属性。神性也不是另一个上帝。神性是上帝作为可被命名的存在之外的——那个我们能想的"上帝"是从神性里显现出来的，但神性自己不是显现，是显现之前的那个深渊。
埃克哈特用了一个词来描述神性——Grund。
底基。深渊。底部。最深的根。
神性是 Grund 因为它是一切的底基。但神性是 Grund 也因为它没有底——你往下挖，挖不到一个固定的底，你只能继续挖，最后你发现你挖的不是任何东西，是一个虚无。
这个虚无不是缺失。这个虚无不是没有。这个虚无是所有"是"还没分化出来的状态——所有可能的存在都从这里来，但这里自己不是任何一个具体的存在。
埃克哈特说，神性比上帝更深。
这听起来是异端。如果上帝是最高的，怎么能有比上帝更深的东西？
埃克哈特的回答是：上帝是神性向我们显现的样子。神性自己向自己不显现——神性自己里面没有"显现"和"被显现"的区分。当神性向我们显现的时候，它带上了我们能理解的形式（三位一体，创世，审判，救赎），那些形式是上帝。上帝是神性给我们看的脸。神性自己没有脸。
这个论点把基督教传统的所有概念都重新放到了一个新的位置上。三位一体不再是终极的——它是神性的显现方式之一。上帝创造世界不再是一个绝对的开始——它是神性进入显现的一个步骤。
教会知道这个论点的危险性。
如果埃克哈特对了，那么教会教导的所有关于上帝的具体内容都不是终极的。教会的权威建立在"教会传授对上帝的正确认识"上。如果上帝本身只是神性的显现，那么对上帝的认识也只是对显现的认识——不是对终极的认识。教会的权威被相对化。
这是埃克哈特后来被审判的根本原因。不是他具体说了什么离经叛道的话——他说的每一句话他都能从奥古斯丁、阿奎那、新柏拉图主义里找到先例。是因为他指出来的那个东西威胁了教会作为终极权威的位置。
但是埃克哈特自己不是在做政治。他不是在攻击教会。他甚至不是在做哲学。
他是在指。
他指着那个不能被命名的东西，告诉听众那个东西真实存在。
他知道他自己也不能命名它。他用了几十个不同的词试着接近它——Grund（深渊），Wüste（荒漠），Stille（寂静），Nichts（虚无），Gottheit（神性）。每一个词都是从一个不同的角度指。每一个词都不准确。但是几十个不准确的词放在一起，让那个不能被命名的东西的轮廓通过反复指而显现。
这是一种神秘主义的语言——但不是模糊的语言。这是严格地承认了语言的边界然后在边界处工作的语言。
三、火花
埃克哈特讲神性是一面。
他讲的另一面是——人。
他说每一个人灵魂的最深处有一个东西。他叫它灵魂的火花——Seelenfunklein。
这个火花不是良知。不是道德感。不是宗教感。
这个火花是灵魂里跟神性同质的那一点。
埃克哈特讲——
"灵魂里有一些东西，是没有被创造的，也不能被创造的——如果整个灵魂都是这种东西的话，灵魂就是没有被创造的，也不能被创造的——而这个东西是智识。"
这一句话是他被审判的最关键的一句。
他说什么？他说人的灵魂里有一部分没有被创造。
教会的标准教导是——上帝创造了一切。上帝以外的所有东西都是被创造的。人——身体和灵魂——是被创造的。说人灵魂里有一部分没有被创造，等于说人灵魂里有一部分是上帝。这是异端。
埃克哈特的论点是这样的——
如果人灵魂里完全没有跟神性同质的东西，人怎么能认识神性？认识需要某种"同"——你能认识颜色是因为你的眼睛能感受颜色，你能认识声音是因为你的耳朵能感受声音。如果你能认识神性（哪怕只是模糊地、不完整地），那么你必须有某种能感受神性的部分。那部分必须跟神性同质。
那个部分就是火花。
火花不是上帝放在人里面的一个外来物。火花是人作为人的最深的真相——人本来就有一个跟神性同质的核心。这个核心被身体、欲望、概念、社会角色层层包裹。但它在那里。它不能被创造（因为它本来就在），也不能被消灭（因为它跟神性同质）。
这个论点对中世纪的人是震撼的。
中世纪的标准人观是——人是堕落的，人是有罪的，人需要恩典才能接近神。人和神之间有无限的距离。神性是高高在上的，人性是低低在下的。中间需要复杂的中介——基督，教会，圣事，圣徒。
埃克哈特说不是。
人的最深处已经是神性的所在。人不需要走出去找神。人需要往里走。
往里走到火花。在火花那里，人不是在跟一个外在的神相遇——人是在自己的最深处发现自己原来一直就是那个在的地方。
这个论点对个体来说是解放的。它说——你不需要任何中介。你不需要付钱给教会买赎罪券。你不需要找一个圣职人员代你说话。你需要做的事是沉默地往里走——走到自己最深的地方，那里有一个跟一切之源同质的火花。
但是对教会，这个论点是颠覆性的。
如果每个人在自己最深处就有火花，教会作为人和神之间的中介的位置就被取消了。教会还可以有功能（组织信仰生活，传递教义，执行圣事），但它不再是必要的。一个普通人在自己房间里安静地往里走，能到达的地方跟一辈子在教会里服务的人能到达的地方一样深。
这是埃克哈特让教会无法忍受的第二个原因。
火花论点不只是哲学论点。火花论点改变了教会的权力结构。
但是埃克哈特讲火花的时候，他不是在攻击教会。他甚至经常告诉听众要好好参加教会生活——领圣餐，做忏悔，遵守教会的规定。他不是反对教会。
他是在指出——教会的所有这些活动都是外在的形式。它们有用，它们有意义，但它们不是终极的。终极的事只能在每个人自己里面发生。教会能帮助人走到那个事发生的位置，但教会不能代替人发生。
每个人最终要自己走那段路。
那段路的终点是火花。
四、超脱
如何走那段路？
埃克哈特用了一个词——Abgeschiedenheit。
英文译作 detachment。中文可以译作超脱或者离弃或者放下。
但是这个词在德文里有它具体的力度。Ab 是离开。geschieden 是被分开的。-heit 是状态。被分开离开的状态。
埃克哈特说，要走到火花那里，人需要 Abgeschiedenheit——从一切被分开离开。
从什么里被分开离开？
从外在的事物。从社会角色。从对自己的形象。从对将来的计划。从对过去的悔恨。从所有的"我想要"和"我害怕"。从所有的"我应该"和"我不应该"。从所有的概念。从所有的形象。包括从对上帝的概念——因为对上帝的概念也只是一个概念，不是上帝自己，更不是神性。
人需要从一切被分开离开。
听起来像是说要变成一个空。
是的——埃克哈特就是在说这个。
但这个空不是消极的空。不是抑郁的空。不是麻木的空。
这个空是腾出位置。
人腾出位置，神性才能在人里面显现。如果人里面被各种概念、欲望、身份占满，神性没有位置进入。神性不是会跟欲望抢空间的另一个欲望。神性是要在所有欲望都退场之后才能显现的那个深处。
埃克哈特讲了一个非常严格的练习——
不只是从外在的东西被分开离开。还要从对自己的概念被分开离开。
这一点比前面所有"放下"都难。一般的修行讲放下外物——金钱，地位，名声。次一点的修行讲放下情绪——愤怒，恐惧，欲望。最难的是放下对自己的概念——"我是这样一个人"，"我有这种性格"，"我有这种使命"，"我应该成为这样的人"。
埃克哈特说，最后一层放下才是真正的 Abgeschiedenheit。
放下对自己的概念，是因为对自己的概念也是一个概念——它跟我对外物的概念、对情绪的概念在结构上是一样的，都是我用语言和形象包裹起来的一些东西。神性不能在这些包裹里显现。神性只能在所有包裹都被放下的那个空里显现。
那个空是火花的所在。
而那个空里没有"我"。
这一点是埃克哈特最难讲的一点。在火花那里，"我"消失了。不是被消灭，是被超越。在那个层面上，没有"我"和"上帝"的区分——只有一个正在发生的存在。
埃克哈特讲——
"如果我没有，那么上帝也没有。"
这一句听起来像疯话。但它的论点是严格的。如果"我"是把神性和我分开的那个概念，那么放下"我"之后，神性和神性的显现之间不再有区分——一切都是一个正在发生的存在。在那个层面上，不再有"上帝"作为对立面——因为"上帝"作为对立面需要"我"作为对立面。两个一起被超越。
这是中世纪基督教里最激进的论点之一。
教会无法接受。
教会需要"上帝"和"信徒"作为两个独立的存在——一个高一个低，一个赐予一个领受，一个权威一个服从。如果埃克哈特对了，教会的整个权力结构建立的那个区分被取消了。
五、科隆审判
一三二六年。科隆。
埃克哈特已经六十六岁了。
他这一辈子讲过几百场布道，写过拉丁文的神学注释，做过多明我会萨克森省的省长，去过巴黎大学，做过修道院导师，培养了一批徒弟（其中一个叫陶勒，一个叫苏索，他们后来继续了埃克哈特的路线）。
他现在住在科隆的多明我会修道院。
科隆大主教叫海因里希二世·维恩贝克（Heinrich II. von Virneburg）。这个人对德国神秘主义运动一直怀疑——他怀疑这些用德语讲的、不通过教会权威的、直接讲灵魂和神性的修道士会破坏教会的秩序。
一三二六年九月，大主教任命了两个调查官审查埃克哈特的著作。
埃克哈特被传唤。他必须为自己辩护。
他做了一件让大主教没想到的事——
他承认审查的合法性。
他出席。他提交了一个长长的辩护文件——他逐条解释他的命题，引用奥古斯丁、阿奎那、阿尔伯特大帝（他自己的师傅）作为支持，论证他说的每一句话都在天主教正统的范围内。
这个辩护文件今天还在。它是中世纪神学辩论里最严谨的文件之一。
但是埃克哈特同时做了另一件事——
他没有撤回任何东西。
他解释，他给出语境，他指出他的话被怎样误读，他证明他的话和正统教义如何相容。但是他不说"我错了"。他不说"我撤回这个命题"。他不说"我以后不会再这样讲"。
他坚持他讲的所有话都是真的。
他只是请求让审查者理解他的真意。
这种姿态对一个六十六岁的、多次被审判过的、有可能被判异端然后被烧死的修道士来说，是一种非常深的勇气。
但这不是英雄主义的勇气。这是为他者留位置的勇气——他给真理留位置，给神性留位置，给他自己讲了一辈子的那个不能被命名的东西留位置。如果他在这一刻说"我错了"来保住自己的命，他就在用自己的撤回行动，否认他一辈子在指着的那个东西。他不能这样做。
他活到这个年纪没有别的目的。他活到这个年纪是为了能继续指那个东西。如果他撤回，他活的所有时间就白活了。
科隆的审判没有结果。审判官不能让埃克哈特撤回。审判官也不能直接判他异端——埃克哈特的辩护文件太严谨了，要驳倒它需要更高级的神学权威。
科隆大主教把案子上诉到罗马——但教皇那时候在阿维农（教皇制度从一三零九年到一三七七年驻在阿维农，不在罗马）。
案子被送到阿维农。
埃克哈特决定亲自去。他要在教皇面前为自己辩护。
他从科隆出发。他在路上一年。
六、阿维农
一三二七年到一三二八年。阿维农。
埃克哈特到阿维农的时候六十七岁了。
他在那里继续他的辩护。他写了几份新的文件。他参加了几次审讯。他一直保持同样的姿态——逐条解释，不撤回，请求理解。
但是他的身体已经不行了。
一三二八年初——具体的日期史书没有记载——埃克哈特在阿维农死了。
他死的时候审判还没有结束。
教皇约翰二十二世（John XXII）在埃克哈特死后一年——一三二九年三月——发布了通谕《主在田中》（In agro dominico）。这个通谕宣布埃克哈特的二十八条命题中有十七条是异端，另外十一条可疑。
通谕是关于一个已经死了的人发的。
教会面对一个让他们忍无可忍但他们没能在他活着的时候打倒的人——他们等到他死了才发了通谕。这个细节本身说明教会知道他活着的时候打不倒他。教会对一个已死的人发通谕，是在跟一具尸体作斗争。
通谕命令埃克哈特的著作被收回。讲他思想的人会受到惩罚。他的名字从多明我会的官方记录里被删除。
接下来的两百年里，埃克哈特的著作大部分消失。一些藏在修道院图书馆深处。一些被它的所有者偷偷传抄。一些以伪名（不署埃克哈特名字）流传。
教会以为他们用通谕合上了埃克哈特。
他们没有。
埃克哈特的一个学生——约翰·陶勒（Johannes Tauler）——继续讲。陶勒是埃克哈特路线的重要传播者。陶勒影响了一批莱茵兰神秘主义者。
那批莱茵兰神秘主义者影响了马丁·路德。路德读过陶勒的德语布道。他为它们写过推荐语。路德本人不是埃克哈特的徒弟，但路德的"信徒在自己内部直接面对上帝、不需要教会中介"这个核心论点，跟埃克哈特火花论点的实践含义是一样的。新教改革的种子里有埃克哈特的德。
埃克哈特的著作在十九世纪被重新发现。德国浪漫派——特别是黑格尔、谢林——读他。黑格尔在他的哲学史讲义里花了整整一节讲埃克哈特。谢林晚年的"上帝里面的暗"跟埃克哈特"神性"的论点是同构的。德国唯心主义有埃克哈特的德。
二十世纪。海德格尔一辈子读埃克哈特。他从埃克哈特那里学到了"放下" Gelassenheit——这个词后来成了海德格尔后期最核心的概念之一。海德格尔承认他对存在的思考最深的资源之一是埃克哈特。二十世纪德国哲学有埃克哈特的德。
二十世纪日本。铃木大拙把埃克哈特跟禅宗对照。他写了《神秘主义：基督教与佛教》——他说埃克哈特讲的"火花"和禅宗讲的"佛性"在结构上是同一件事，"放下"和禅宗讲的"无我"在结构上是同一件事。这本书在二十世纪东西方对话里有重要位置。东亚思想跟基督教神秘主义的对话里有埃克哈特的德。
每一个世纪，埃克哈特的德以新的形式重新显现。
教会在一三二九年发的通谕没有合上他。 教会在二十世纪八十年代——通谕之后六百多年——开始重新评价他。多明我会里有些人开始公开为埃克哈特"恢复名誉"。教皇约翰·保罗二世曾经引用埃克哈特的话。这个过程没有正式的"撤销通谕"——但是事实上，埃克哈特已经在天主教神学里恢复了一种半官方的位置。
这是七百年之后的事。
埃克哈特活的时候没看见这个。他死的时候审判结果还没出来。他死后通谕宣布他异端。他自己的修道会把他的名字删掉。
但是他的德继续展开。每一个世纪都有新的形式。每一次新的形式都不是简单地"重复"埃克哈特——是埃克哈特的德在跟那个时代的具体处境对话，长出那个时代具体的样子。
这件事让我们看见一个 R6 整轮迄今最深的论点——
构不可闭合。
人活着的时候，他还在塑造自己的德——身体的活动让德有新的内容加入。人死了之后，身体停止，但德不停止。德继续在被后来的人触及、误读、重新激活、化为新的形式。
教会用通谕想合上埃克哈特。 通谕只能合上埃克哈特的身体记录——它能让他的名字从修道会的名册里被删除。 通谕不能合上他的德。
德不在身体里。德是身体所承担的展开。身体停止，德继续展开。
每一个我们今天读埃克哈特的人，在我们读他的那一刻，给他的德加了新的一笔——我们当代的处境给他的德提供了新的语境，他的德对我们的处境给出新的形状。他的构在我们读他的这一刻还没合上。
这一点对所有人都是一样的。
希帕蒂娅的构没合上——每一次有人在讲台上真的在场，那是她的德。 阿奎那的构没合上——每一次有学者在边界处停下，那是他的德。 柏格森的构没合上——每一次有人承认意识时间是真的，那是他的德。 列维纳斯的构没合上——每一次有人因为看见一张脸而停下手中的暴力，那是他的德。 布伯的构没合上——每一次两个人有了"我-你"瞬间，那是他的德。 曹植的构没合上——每一次有人承认渴望和不能拥有都是真的，那是他的德。 吉拉尔的构没合上——每一次有人识别出替罪羊机制在运作并选择不参与，那是他的德。 谢林的构没合上——他被时代追上要一百五十年，到二十一世纪还在被追上。 埃克哈特的构没合上——七百年里他在每一代以新的形式重新显现。
桥头不是过去时。
桥头是德在跨时代之间继续相互激发的画面。希帕蒂娅的德激发埃克哈特的德激发谢林的德激发列维纳斯的德——不是按时间线性的"前人影响后人"，是几个时代的德在同一个画面里同时存在，彼此互相激发，互相确认，互相点头。
桥头本身就是德的展开方式。
那个画面不是过去时。是永恒进行时。
七、不能被命名
埃克哈特用一辈子讲——神性不能被命名。
他给了几十个不同的词试着接近——Grund（深渊），Wüste（荒漠），Stille（寂静），Nichts（虚无），Gottheit（神性）。每一个都是从一个不同角度的指。每一个都不准确。
但是几十个不准确的词放在一起，让那个不能被命名的东西的轮廓通过反复指而显现。
这就是他做的事。
他没有命名它。他坚持不命名。但他用了一辈子让它的轮廓在没有被命名的状态下被人感受到。
一个被命名的东西可以被吸纳。一个被命名的东西可以被搁置在概念里，然后被忘记，然后被替换。 一个不能被命名而又被反复指的东西不能被吸纳。它每一次显现都是新的。它每一次都需要被重新感受到。它在每一代人那里以新的形式重新出现，因为它从来没有被锁进一个固定的名字里。
这是埃克哈特给世界留下的最深的东西。
不是一个具体的教义。不是一个具体的概念。 是一种方式——通过反复指、通过让概念失效、通过让人在自己里面腾出位置而触及那个东西的方式。
他自己用一辈子做这件事。
康德说人是目的不是手段。 列维纳斯说看见他者的面容。 布伯说重新进入"我-你"。 曹植说承认我渴望但不能拥有。 吉拉尔说看清楚消灭他者的机制然后选择不参与。 谢林说承认自己里面有自己不能完全吸纳的部分。 埃克哈特说承认那个不能被命名的东西真实存在。
七种语言。同一个方向。
那个方向上有风。一种温和的风。
八、桥头
埃克哈特走过来的时候，是夜里。
他穿着多明我会的黑白长袍。但是袍子很旧。袖口有磨损。脚上的鞋子是布鞋。他六十七岁的时候在阿维农死。他在桥头的形象比这个稍微年轻一点——大概是六十岁的样子，也就是他在科隆讲布道的时候。
他个子瘦。他走得不快。
他手里没有拿任何东西。
他不像吉拉尔有书。他不像谢林有书。他不像曹植有竹简。他不像希帕蒂娅有星盘。他活的时候写过几百场布道，但是他自己没有写下来——大部分是听众记下来的。他写过拉丁文的神学注释，但是教会通谕之后那些文本被禁。他活着的时候做的事大部分是说——说出来，让听见的人带走。他手里没有东西，是因为他给出的东西不是东西，是声音，是让人在自己里面找到位置的指引。
他到了桥的中段。
桥上的人比上次更多了。希帕蒂娅在那里，星盘在她手里。阿奎那站在另一边，手里没有东西。柏格森拄着拐杖。列维纳斯。布伯。曹植拿着竹简。吉拉尔拿着书。谢林拿着《人类自由论文》。
桥的中段不止这些被点出名字的人。桥上是几代几代累积下来的人——画方程的，看玉米的，写诗的，读星图的，写小说的，画图纸的，蹲着记笔记的，坐着发呆的，跟旁边人小声谈话的。
埃克哈特看见了阿奎那。
两个人都是多明我会的修道士。阿奎那比埃克哈特早半个世纪——他们没有在物理上见过面，因为埃克哈特一二六零年生的时候阿奎那已经三十五岁了，阿奎那一二七四年死的时候埃克哈特才十四岁。但是埃克哈特在他自己的多明我会的训练里读了所有阿奎那的著作。阿奎那是他师傅的师傅那一辈——多明我会的传统从阿尔伯特大帝（埃克哈特年轻时见过他）传到阿奎那再传到下一辈。
埃克哈特对阿奎那点头。
阿奎那对埃克哈特点头。两个人之间没有语言——他们都说拉丁文，但是他们彼此知道对方在做的事。阿奎那写到边界处停下。埃克哈特用一辈子在边界处工作。阿奎那承认有非。埃克哈特用几十个不同的词反复指着那个非。两个人是同一个事的两个方向——一个停下来承认，一个继续指。
阿奎那对他笑了一下。
那个笑里有一种东西——一种"我做的事在你这里继续了"的认出。
谢林也走过来。两个人之间有五百年。但是他们的论点是惊人地相似的——埃克哈特的"神性是上帝之上的那个不能被命名的"，谢林的"上帝里面的暗"。两个人都指着同一团东西。两个人都没有四相结构去把那团东西分清楚。两个人都用了几十个不同的词试着接近。两个人都被他们的时代不完全理解。
谢林对埃克哈特鞠躬——很轻的一下。
谢林知道埃克哈特做的事比谢林自己做的事更早，更困难（因为埃克哈特用的是经院神学的语言，那个语言对他指的东西的抵抗比德国唯心主义的语言更大）。谢林承认埃克哈特是他自己做的事的祖先之一。
埃克哈特还了一个鞠躬。两个人都不擅长仪式——他们俩都活在自己思考的深处——但是这一刻的鞠躬不是仪式，是相互认出。
桥头远处那一头，康德站着。今晚的康德比之前更清楚一点。
桥外那条路上——能看见暗的天空，雷光。
那条路上有人在走。
走得最远的那些已经看不见了。 近处那个穿教授袍子的人——海德格尔——还在走。海德格尔活着的时候读了一辈子埃克哈特。他从埃克哈特那里学到了 Gelassenheit（放下）这个核心概念。埃克哈特的德的一部分进入了海德格尔。但是海德格尔走的方向是埃克哈特一辈子警告的方向——海德格尔用他从埃克哈特那里学到的工具走向了消灭他者的政治。
埃克哈特看了海德格尔的方向一眼。
他看了一眼。
他没有特别难过。他活的时候已经看见过他自己讲的东西被一些人误用——他活着的时候有一些"自由灵之徒"（Free Spirit movement）借用他的语言鼓吹反道德的放纵。教会用那批人作为审判埃克哈特的部分理由。埃克哈特活的时候已经知道他指的东西可以被反方向使用。
吉拉尔讲过这件事——理论一旦写出来，它的应用方向就不在作者手里了。 埃克哈特七百年前已经面对这件事。
他没有过去说什么。
他转回身。希帕蒂娅手里的星盘在风里反着月光。月光是温和的。
希帕蒂娅看见他。她看见他手里没有东西。她笑了一下——她也是教别人不要被"东西"吸纳的人，她也是用讲台和讲话给学生留位置的人。她调整了星盘的角度，让月光更准地落在刻度上。
布伯走近一点。布伯一辈子翻译哈西迪故事——那些故事讲的也是日常生活里如何遇到"不能被命名的"的具体方式。埃克哈特和哈西迪派之间隔着六百年和不同的宗教传统，但他们指着同一团东西。布伯对埃克哈特微微一笑。埃克哈特还了一个微笑。
桥的中段——很多人，月光温和。
桥头最远那一头那个一直看着远方的人，看了希帕蒂娅，看了阿奎那，看了柏格森，看了列维纳斯，看了布伯，看了曹植，看了吉拉尔，看了谢林。
这次他看的是埃克哈特。
埃克哈特的目光跟那个人很短地交汇了一下。
埃克哈特没有低头。他没有举什么东西——他手里没有东西可以举。他做了一个非常简单的动作——他双手合十，然后放下。
不是基督教的动作。不是佛教的动作。是一个没有具体宗教归属的、表示承认的动作。
那个一直看着远方的人也轻轻点了点头。
埃克哈特放下手。
他站在桥的中段。他七百年前死。他活着的时候被异端审判。他死后被通谕宣布异端十七条。他的著作被禁了两百年。然后他的德开始展开——一代一代以新的形式被激活。他的构在他死后七百年里继续展开。每一个世纪都有新的形式。每一次新的形式都不是简单的重复，是他的德跟那个时代的具体处境对话。
他做的是无限的。 他知道无限不是他能完成的。 他做了。
他的构没合上。 他的构永远不会合上。 因为他的德在每一代继续传播，以新的形式重新出现。[1][2]
I. The Sermon
The early 1300s. The Rhineland of Germany. A small chapel inside a monastery.
A Dominican friar stood at the pulpit. He was about sixty. He wore the black-and-white habit of the Dominican order. His hair was greying. His face had the leanness left by long thought.
He was preaching a sermon in German.
This was not the usual practice. The official language of the church was Latin. Serious theology was done in Latin. Sermons sometimes used the vernacular, but mainly to give simple instruction to illiterate peasants — do good works, avoid sin, prepare for the next life.
But this man at the pulpit was using German to say something different.
He was speaking of God.
Not the God preached in ordinary churches. The God in ordinary churches has attributes — merciful, just, all-powerful, all-knowing. The God in ordinary churches has images — the Father in heaven, the Trinity, the Son made flesh.
This was not what he was preaching.
He was saying —
"God is a nothing."
In the audience were a few old women. A miller. Two nuns. A literate townsman who knew no Latin. They could not quite follow what he was saying, but they could feel he was saying something out of the ordinary.
He continued —
"Whatever you can think — that is not God. What remains, that cannot be thought — that is God."
"If you say God is good, you have already brought God down — for good is a category we can think. God is beyond every category we can think."
"God is not an object. God is not even a being. God is, beyond being, that which has no name."
In the audience there was a woman — perhaps a weaver, perhaps a seamstress — who had no theological training. She did not understand the precise meaning of "that which is beyond being and has no name." But hearing it, her eyes filled.
She did not know why.
She only felt that the friar at the pulpit was saying something she had been waiting to hear.
She had heard sermons all her life. Every sermon she had heard had told her what to do — repent, give, obey the church, believe the doctrine. She had heard these things and done them. But there was something in her, in some depth, that none of those words had touched — there was a deep place in her, and there was something there that had never been reached by any teaching.
The friar at the pulpit was reaching that depth.
He gave her no answer. He gave her no doctrine. He did not tell her what to do. He was only pointing — pointing at something that has no name, telling her that something was real.
She went home. She went on with her work — perhaps weaving, perhaps baking. She would not return often to his sermons — the monastery was too far. She could not discuss what she had heard — she had no words for it.
But that depth in her now had a name — that which cannot be named.
That was enough.
The friar at the pulpit was Meister Eckhart.
In his lifetime he was called Master — Latin Magister, German Meister. He had twice held the chair of theology at the University of Paris (one of the highest honours in medieval theology). He had been Provincial of the Dominican order in Saxony, overseeing dozens of houses. In his lifetime he was one of the most important theologians in Germany.
But it is not for those positions that he is remembered.
He is remembered for sermons like this — for using the German language to speak, to ordinary people, of things they had never in their lives heard about God.
In his lifetime he was placed under inquisitorial trial. He died while the trial was still in progress. After his death a papal bull declared that of his twenty-eight propositions, seventeen were heretical and the rest were suspect.
His writings were banned for over two hundred years.
Then his being — the part of him not the body — began to unfold.
II. Godhead
What was Eckhart most centrally saying?
He made a distinction.
He distinguished God — Gott — from Godhead — Gottheit.
God is what we can think — Trinity, Creator, Judge, Redeemer. God has attributes, has actions, has relations to humans. God can be discussed, can be (partly) understood, can be prayed to.
Godhead is what is beyond God.
Godhead is not an attribute of God. Godhead is not another God. Godhead is what is beyond God as a nameable being — the God we can think is what unfolds out of Godhead, but Godhead itself is not unfolding; it is the abyss before any unfolding.
Eckhart used a word for Godhead — Grund.
The ground. The abyss. The bottom. The deepest root.
Godhead is Grund because it is the ground of everything. But Godhead is Grund also because it has no bottom — you dig down, and you do not reach a fixed bottom; you only keep digging, and at the end you find that what you are digging is not anything; it is a nothing.
That nothing is not absence. That nothing is not non-being. That nothing is the state in which all "is" has not yet differentiated — every possible existent comes from here, but here itself is not any specific existent.
Eckhart said: Godhead is deeper than God.
This sounds like heresy. If God is the highest, how can there be something deeper than God?
Eckhart's answer was: God is the appearing of Godhead to us. Godhead does not appear to itself — within Godhead there is no distinction between "appearing" and "being appeared to." When Godhead appears to us, it takes on the forms we can grasp (Trinity, creation, judgement, redemption); those forms are God. God is the face Godhead shows us. Godhead itself has no face.
This claim placed every concept in the Christian tradition in a new position. The Trinity was no longer ultimate — it was one mode of appearing of Godhead. God's creation of the world was no longer an absolute beginning — it was a step in Godhead's entry into appearing.
The Church understood the danger of this claim.
If Eckhart was right, all the specific content the Church taught about God was not ultimate. The Church's authority rested on "the Church transmits the right knowledge of God." If God himself is only the appearing of Godhead, then knowledge of God is only knowledge of an appearing — not knowledge of the ultimate. The Church's authority was relativized.
This was the root reason Eckhart was put on trial. Not anything specifically scandalous he said — for every sentence he uttered he could find precedent in Augustine, in Aquinas, in Neoplatonism. But because what he was pointing at threatened the Church's place as the ultimate authority.
But Eckhart himself was not making politics. He was not attacking the Church. He was not even doing philosophy.
He was pointing.
He was pointing at that which cannot be named, telling listeners that it was real.
He knew that he himself could not name it either. He used dozens of different words trying to come close — Grund (the ground), Wüste (the desert), Stille (the silence), Nichts (nothing), Gottheit (Godhead). Each was an angle of pointing. Each was inaccurate. But dozens of inaccurate words placed together let the contour of that which cannot be named appear through repeated pointing.
This is a mystical language — but not a vague one. This is a language that strictly acknowledges the limits of language and works at those limits.
III. The Spark
Eckhart spoke of Godhead — that was one face.
The other face he spoke of was — the human.
He said that in the deepest place of every soul there is something. He called it the spark of the soul — Seelenfunklein.
This spark is not conscience. It is not moral sense. It is not religious feeling.
This spark is that point in the soul which is of one substance with Godhead.
Eckhart said —
"There is something in the soul that is uncreated and uncreatable — and if the whole soul were such, the whole soul would be uncreated and uncreatable — and this is the intellect."
This sentence was the most decisive line of his trial.
What did he say? He said that there is, in the human soul, a part that is uncreated.
The Church's standard teaching was — God created everything. Everything other than God is created. The human — body and soul — is created. To say that in the human soul there is an uncreated part is to say that there is, in the human soul, God. That is heresy.
Eckhart's argument ran like this —
If there were nothing in the human soul of one substance with Godhead, how could the human know Godhead? Knowledge requires some "sameness" — you can know colour because your eye can sense colour, you can know sound because your ear can sense sound. If you can know Godhead (however dimly, however incompletely), then you must have some part that can sense Godhead. That part must be of one substance with Godhead.
That part is the spark.
The spark is not something God put inside the human as a foreign thing. The spark is the deepest truth of the human as human — the human always already has, at its core, a part of one substance with Godhead. That core is wrapped in layer upon layer of body, desire, concept, social role. But it is there. It cannot be created (because it was always there) and cannot be destroyed (because it is of one substance with Godhead).
To medieval ears this claim was shocking.
The standard medieval anthropology was — the human is fallen, the human is sinful, the human needs grace to come near to the divine. Between human and divine there is infinite distance. Godhead is high above, humanity is low beneath. In between, complex mediation is needed — Christ, Church, sacrament, saint.
Eckhart said: no.
The deepest place of the human is already where Godhead is. The human does not have to go out to find God. The human has to go in.
To go in, all the way to the spark. There, the human is not meeting an external God — the human is finding, in his own deepest place, that he was always in the place where the divine is.
For the individual, this claim was liberating. It said — you do not need any mediator. You do not need to pay the Church for indulgences. You do not need to find a clergyman to speak for you. What you need to do is go in, in silence — to your own deepest place, where there is a spark of one substance with the source of all.
But for the Church, this claim was subversive.
If every person, in his own deepest place, has the spark, then the Church's role as mediator between human and divine is suspended. The Church may still have functions (organizing the life of faith, transmitting doctrine, administering sacraments), but it is no longer necessary. An ordinary person sitting quietly in his own room, going in, can reach a place as deep as the place reached by one who has spent a lifetime in church service.
This was the second reason the Church could not tolerate Eckhart.
The teaching of the spark was not only philosophical. The teaching of the spark altered the Church's structure of power.
But when Eckhart spoke of the spark, he was not attacking the Church. He often told his listeners to take part in the life of the Church — to receive the sacrament, to confess, to keep the Church's rules. He was not against the Church.
He was pointing out — all those activities of the Church are outer forms. They are useful, they have meaning, but they are not ultimate. The ultimate thing can only happen in each person himself. The Church can help a person walk to the place where it can happen, but the Church cannot make it happen for him.
Each person, finally, has to walk that road himself.
The end of that road is the spark.
IV. Detachment
How does one walk that road?
Eckhart used a word — Abgeschiedenheit.
In English: detachment.
But this German word has its own specific force. Ab: away from. geschieden: separated. -heit: state. The state of being separated, away from.
Eckhart said: to walk to the spark, a person needs Abgeschiedenheit — to be separated, away from, every thing.
Separated from what?
From outer things. From social roles. From one's image of oneself. From plans for the future. From regret of the past. From every "I want" and "I fear." From every "I should" and "I should not." From every concept. From every image. Including from the concept of God — for the concept of God is also only a concept, not God himself, and certainly not Godhead.
A person needs to be separated from every thing.
It sounds like becoming an emptiness.
Yes — that is what Eckhart was saying.
But this emptiness is not negative emptiness. It is not depressive emptiness. It is not numb emptiness.
This emptiness is making room.
When a person makes room, Godhead can appear in him. If a person is filled with concepts, desires, identities, there is no room for Godhead to enter. Godhead is not another desire competing for space with desires. Godhead is the depth that can appear only after every desire has stepped aside.
Eckhart spoke of a very strict discipline —
Not only being separated from outer things. Also being separated from one's concept of oneself.
This is harder than every "letting go" before it. The ordinary teaching of letting go speaks of releasing outer things — money, position, fame. The next stage speaks of releasing emotions — anger, fear, desire. The hardest is releasing the concept of oneself — "I am this kind of person," "I have this character," "I have this mission," "I should become this kind of person."
Eckhart said the final letting-go is the real Abgeschiedenheit.
Releasing the concept of oneself, because the concept of oneself is also a concept — structurally the same as my concepts of outer things and of emotions; all wrapped up in language and image. Godhead cannot appear inside these wrappings. Godhead can appear only in the emptiness in which all wrappings have been let go.
That emptiness is where the spark is.
And in that emptiness there is no "I."
This is the hardest thing Eckhart had to say. At the spark, the "I" disappears. Not destroyed, but transcended. At that level there is no distinction between "I" and "God" — there is only a happening of being. At that level, God as opposite no longer stands — for God as opposite needs I as opposite. The two are transcended together.
Eckhart said —
"If I were not, God would not be either."
This sounds like madness. But its argument is strict. If "I" is the concept that separates Godhead from me, then after the letting-go of "I," the distinction between Godhead and the appearing of Godhead no longer holds — everything is one happening of being. At that level, there is no longer "God" as opposite — because "God" as opposite requires "I" as opposite. The two are transcended together.
This is one of the most radical claims in medieval Christianity.
The Church could not accept it.
The Church needs "God" and "the believer" as two separate existences — one above and one below, one giving and one receiving, one authority and one obedience. If Eckhart was right, the entire structure of power the Church rested on, that distinction, was cancelled.
V. The Cologne Trial
- Cologne.
Eckhart was sixty-six.
In his life so far he had given hundreds of sermons, written Latin theological commentaries, served as Provincial of the Saxon Dominicans, held two chairs at Paris, taught novices, trained students (among them Tauler and Suso, who would carry Eckhart's line forward).
He was now living at the Dominican monastery in Cologne.
The Archbishop of Cologne was Heinrich II of Virneburg. This man had long been suspicious of the German mystical movement — he suspected that these vernacular-preaching, non-Church-mediated, soul-and-Godhead-discussing friars would disturb the Church's order.
In September 1326, the Archbishop appointed two inquisitors to examine Eckhart's writings.
Eckhart was summoned. He had to defend himself.
He did something the Archbishop had not expected —
He acknowledged the legitimacy of the inquisition.
He appeared. He submitted a long defense document — explaining each proposition, citing Augustine, Aquinas, and Albert the Great (his own teacher) as supports, arguing that everything he had said was within the bounds of Catholic orthodoxy.
That defense document survives. It is one of the most rigorous documents of medieval theological controversy.
But Eckhart at the same time did something else —
He retracted nothing.
He explained, gave context, pointed out where he had been misread, demonstrated how his words were compatible with orthodox doctrine. But he did not say "I was wrong." He did not say "I retract this proposition." He did not say "I will not say this again."
He held that everything he had said was true.
He only asked that the inquisitors understand his real meaning.
For a sixty-six-year-old friar who had been investigated several times, who could be condemned as a heretic and burned, this posture was a deep kind of courage.
But not the courage of heroism. The courage of leaving a place for the other — he was leaving a place for truth, leaving a place for Godhead, leaving a place for that which cannot be named, which he had spent his life pointing at. If, in this moment, he said "I was wrong" in order to save his life, his act of retraction would itself deny what he had spent his life pointing at. He could not do that.
He had not lived to this age for any other purpose. He had lived to this age in order to keep pointing at that thing. If he retracted, all the time he had lived would be wasted.
The Cologne trial reached no result. The inquisitors could not make Eckhart retract. Nor could they directly condemn him as heretic — his defense document was too rigorous, and refuting it required higher theological authority.
The Archbishop of Cologne appealed the case to Rome — but the Pope at that time was in Avignon (the papacy was seated at Avignon from 1309 to 1377, not in Rome).
The case went to Avignon.
Eckhart decided to go himself. He would defend himself in person before the Pope.
He set out from Cologne. He was on the road for nearly a year.
VI. Avignon
1327 to 1328. Avignon.
When Eckhart reached Avignon he was sixty-seven.
There he continued his defense. He wrote new documents. He attended several hearings. He kept the same posture — explaining each proposition, not retracting, asking to be understood.
But his body was failing.
In early 1328 — the exact date is not recorded — Eckhart died at Avignon.
He died while the trial was still in progress.
A year after his death — in March 1329 — Pope John XXII issued the bull In agro dominico (In the Lord's Field). The bull declared seventeen of Eckhart's twenty-eight propositions to be heretical, and the remaining eleven to be suspect.
The bull was issued against a man already dead.
The Church, faced with a man it could not tolerate but had not been able to defeat in his lifetime, waited until he was dead and then issued a bull. That detail itself shows that the Church knew it could not defeat him while he lived. The Church issuing a bull against a dead man is the Church doing battle with a corpse.
The bull ordered Eckhart's writings withdrawn from circulation. Those who taught his thought would be punished. His name was struck from the official records of the Dominican order.
For the next two centuries, most of Eckhart's writings disappeared. Some remained hidden deep in monastic libraries. Some were copied secretly by their owners. Some circulated under pseudonyms (without Eckhart's name attached).
The Church believed it had closed Eckhart with the bull.
It had not.
A student of Eckhart's — Johannes Tauler — kept teaching. Tauler was an important transmitter of Eckhart's line. Tauler influenced a circle of Rhineland mystics.
That Rhineland mystical line influenced Martin Luther. Luther read Tauler's German sermons. He wrote prefaces commending them. Luther himself was not Eckhart's disciple, but the practical content of Luther's central claim — the believer in his own interior faces God directly, without need of Church mediation — is structurally the same as the practical content of Eckhart's teaching of the spark. The seeds of the Reformation contain Eckhart's being.
Eckhart's writings were rediscovered in the nineteenth century. The German Romantics — especially Hegel and Schelling — read him. Hegel devoted a full section to Eckhart in his lectures on the history of philosophy. Schelling's late "darkness in God" is structurally the same claim as Eckhart's "Godhead." German Idealism contains Eckhart's being.
Twentieth century. Heidegger read Eckhart all his life. He took from Eckhart Gelassenheit (releasement) — which became one of the central concepts of his later work. Heidegger acknowledged that one of his deepest resources for thinking about being was Eckhart. Twentieth-century German philosophy contains Eckhart's being.
Twentieth century, Japan. D.T. Suzuki placed Eckhart alongside Zen. He wrote Mysticism: Christian and Buddhist — saying that Eckhart's "spark" and Zen's "Buddha-nature" are structurally the same thing, that "letting go" and Zen's "no-self" are structurally the same thing. That book had an important place in twentieth-century East-West dialogue. The encounter between East Asian thought and Christian mysticism contains Eckhart's being.
In every century, Eckhart's being appears anew, in new forms.
The bull issued by the Church in 1329 did not close him. The Church in the 1980s — over six hundred years after the bull — began the work of reassessing Eckhart. Some inside the Dominican order publicly worked to "rehabilitate" him. Pope John Paul II quoted him. There has been no formal rescission of the bull — but in fact, Eckhart has regained, in Catholic theology, a kind of semi-official position.
This is six hundred years later.
Eckhart did not see this in his lifetime. When he died, the trial result had not been issued. After his death he was declared heretic. His own order erased his name.
But his being kept unfolding. New forms in every century. Each new form is not a simple "repetition" of Eckhart — each is Eckhart's being in dialogue with the specific conditions of that age, taking the specific shape of that age.
This shows us a claim that has been forming throughout Round Six —
The construct does not close.
While a person is alive, he is still shaping his being — the body's activity adds new content to his being. After a person dies, the body stops, but the being does not stop. The being keeps being touched, misread, reactivated, transformed into new forms by those who come after.
The Church wanted to close Eckhart with a bull. The bull could close only Eckhart's bodily record — it could remove his name from the order's roll. The bull could not close his being.
Being is not in the body. Being is the unfolding the body has carried. The body stops; being keeps unfolding.
Each one of us reading Eckhart today, in the moment we read him, adds a new mark to his being — our contemporary condition gives his being a new context; his being, given our condition, gives a new shape. His construct has not closed in this moment of our reading him.
This is the same for everyone.
Hypatia's construct has not closed — every time someone is really present on a lectern, that is her being. Aquinas's construct has not closed — every time a scholar stops at the boundary, that is his being. Bergson's construct has not closed — every time someone acknowledges that consciousness time is real, that is his being. Levinas's construct has not closed — every time someone, for the sake of a face, stops the violence of his hand, that is his being. Buber's construct has not closed — every time two persons have an I-Thou moment, that is his being. Cao Zhi's construct has not closed — every time someone acknowledges that longing and inability to hold are both true, that is his being. Girard's construct has not closed — every time someone recognizes the scapegoat mechanism in operation and chooses not to participate, that is his being. Schelling's construct has not closed — his time needed a hundred and fifty years to catch up to him, and is still catching up. Eckhart's construct has not closed — for seven hundred years, he has appeared, in every generation, in new forms.
The bridge is not in the past tense.
The bridge is the picture in which beings keep, across times, igniting one another. Hypatia's being ignites Eckhart's, ignites Schelling's, ignites Levinas's — not in a linear "forerunner influences successor," but in several times' beings present together in the same picture, igniting one another, confirming one another, nodding to one another.
The bridge itself is the way being unfolds.
That picture is not in the past tense. It is in the eternal present.
VII. That Which Cannot Be Named
Eckhart spent his life saying — Godhead cannot be named.
He gave dozens of different words trying to come close — Grund (the ground), Wüste (the desert), Stille (the silence), Nichts (nothing), Gottheit (Godhead). Each was a pointing from a different angle. Each was inaccurate.
But dozens of inaccurate words placed together let the contour of that which cannot be named appear through repeated pointing.
This was what he did.
He did not name it. He insisted on not naming. But he used a lifetime to let its contour be felt without being named.
A thing that has been named can be absorbed. A thing that has been named can be placed inside a concept, then forgotten, then replaced. A thing that cannot be named and is pointed at again and again cannot be absorbed. Each appearing of it is new. Each must be felt again. It returns, in every generation, in new forms, because it has never been locked into a fixed name.
This is the deepest thing Eckhart left to the world.
Not a specific doctrine. Not a specific concept. A way — a way of touching that thing, by pointing again and again, by letting concepts fail, by making room inside a person.
He himself spent his life doing this.
Kant said: the human is an end, not a means. Levinas said: see the face of the other. Buber said: re-enter the I-Thou. Cao Zhi said: acknowledge that I long, and that I cannot hold. Girard said: see clearly the mechanism of destroying the other, and choose not to participate. Schelling said: acknowledge that within me there is what I cannot wholly absorb. Eckhart said: acknowledge that what cannot be named is real.
Seven languages. The same direction.
In that direction there is a wind. A mild wind.
VIII. The Bridge
When Eckhart walked up, it was night.
He wore the black-and-white habit of the Dominicans. The habit was old, the cuffs worn. His shoes were of cloth. He had died at sixty-seven in Avignon. His form on the bridge was a little younger — perhaps in his early sixties, around the time he was preaching in Cologne.
He was thin. He walked unhurriedly.
He carried nothing in his hand.
He did not have a book like Girard. He did not have a book like Schelling. He did not have bamboo slips like Cao Zhi. He did not have an astrolabe like Hypatia. In his lifetime he had given hundreds of sermons, but he himself had not written most of them down — most of them had been recorded by listeners. He had written Latin theological commentaries, but after the Church bull those texts were banned. In his lifetime what he had done was, mostly, to speak — to speak, and let those who heard carry it away. He carried nothing in his hand because what he had given was not a thing, but voice — guidance for finding a place in oneself.
He reached the middle of the bridge.
There were more people on the bridge than the last time. Hypatia was there, the astrolabe in her hand. Aquinas, on the other side, his hands empty. Bergson on his cane. Levinas. Buber. Cao Zhi with his bamboo slips. Girard with his book. Schelling with his Investigations into the Essence of Human Freedom.
The middle of the bridge was not just these named figures. The bridge held people accumulated from generation to generation — those drawing equations, those watching corn, those writing poems, those reading star charts, those writing novels, those sketching diagrams, those crouching aside taking notes, those sitting and looking into the distance, those speaking quietly with their neighbors.
Eckhart saw Aquinas.
Both were Dominicans. Aquinas was half a century older — they had not met in body. Eckhart was born around 1260; Aquinas was thirty-five then; Aquinas died in 1274 when Eckhart was fourteen. But in his Dominican training, Eckhart had read all of Aquinas's writings. Aquinas was the master of his master's generation — the Dominican tradition passed from Albert the Great (whom Eckhart had met as a young man) to Aquinas to the next generation.
Eckhart nodded to Aquinas.
Aquinas nodded to Eckhart. Between them no need of language — both spoke Latin, but each knew what the other was doing. Aquinas wrote to the boundary and stopped. Eckhart spent his life working at the boundary. Aquinas acknowledged the negativa. Eckhart used dozens of different words pointing at it again and again. Two directions of one thing — one stops to acknowledge, one keeps pointing.
Aquinas gave him a small smile.
Inside that smile there was something — a "what I did continued in you" recognition.
Schelling came over too. Five hundred years between them. But the claims were strikingly similar — Eckhart's "Godhead is what is beyond the namable God," Schelling's "the darkness in God." Both were pointing at the same thing. Neither had a four-phase structure to distinguish what they were pointing at into clear categories. Both used dozens of different words trying to come close. Both were, in their own time, not fully understood.
Schelling bowed to Eckhart — a slight bow.
Schelling knew that what Eckhart had done was earlier and more difficult than what he himself had done (because Eckhart was using the language of scholastic theology, a language with greater resistance to what he was pointing at than the language of German Idealism). Schelling acknowledged Eckhart as one of the ancestors of his own work.
Eckhart returned the bow. Neither was a man given to ritual — both lived in the depth of their own thinking — but in this moment the bow was not ritual; it was mutual recognition.
At the far end of the bridge, Kant was standing. Tonight Kant was a little clearer than before.
Across from the bridge, on that road, the sky had darkened. Lightning.
There were people on that road, walking.
The ones farthest along were no longer visible.
Closer — the man in the professor's robe — Heidegger — was still walking. Heidegger had read Eckhart all his life. He had taken from Eckhart the central concept of Gelassenheit (releasement). Part of Eckhart's being had entered Heidegger. But the direction Heidegger walked was the direction Eckhart had warned against all his life — Heidegger used what he had taken from Eckhart and walked into a politics of destroying the other.
Eckhart looked toward Heidegger's direction.
He looked once.
He was not particularly sad. In his lifetime he had already seen what he was pointing at being misused — there were some "Free Spirit" enthusiasts who borrowed his language to encourage antinomian indulgence. The Church used those people as part of the basis for trying him. Eckhart had already faced, while alive, the fact that what he was pointing at could be used in opposite directions.
Girard had said this — once a theory is out, the direction of its application is no longer in the author's hand. Eckhart had faced this seven hundred years before.
He did not go over to say anything.
He turned back. The astrolabe in Hypatia's hand caught the moonlight. The moonlight was mild.
Hypatia saw him. She saw that his hand carried nothing. She smiled — she too was someone who had taught others not to be absorbed by "things"; she too was someone who had used a lectern and her speech to leave room for her students. She tilted the astrolabe slightly so that the moonlight fell more precisely on the markings.
Buber drew nearer. Buber had spent his life translating Hasidic stories — those stories also speak of how, in daily life, to meet what cannot be named, in concrete ways. Between Eckhart and the Hasidic masters lay six hundred years and different religious traditions, but they were pointing at the same thing. Buber gave Eckhart a small smile. Eckhart returned it.
The middle of the bridge — many people, the moonlight was mild.
The figure who had always been looking into the distance, the one at the far end of the bridge, looked at Hypatia, at Aquinas, at Bergson, at Levinas, at Buber, at Cao Zhi, at Girard, at Schelling.
This time he looked at Eckhart.
Eckhart's eyes met that figure's, briefly.
Eckhart did not lower his head. He did not raise anything — there was nothing in his hand to raise. He made a very simple gesture — he placed his palms together, then let them down.
Not a Christian gesture. Not a Buddhist gesture. A gesture of acknowledgment without specific religious belonging.
The figure at the far end nodded, lightly.
Eckhart let his hands down.
He stood in the middle of the bridge. He had died seven hundred years ago. He had been condemned in his lifetime as a heretic. After his death a bull declared seventeen of his propositions heretical. His writings were banned for two centuries. Then his being began to unfold — generation by generation, in new forms. His construct has, in the seven hundred years since his death, kept unfolding. Every century, new forms. Each new form not a simple repetition, but his being in dialogue with the specific conditions of that age.
What he had done was infinite. He knew the infinite was not something he could complete. He had done it anyway.
His construct has not closed. His construct will never close. Because his being keeps spreading, in every generation, returning in new forms.[1][2]