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Father Forgive Us, for We Know Not What We Do
Father Forgive Us, for We Know Not What We Do is a first-person account of a series of lucid thoughts, a quilted inner delving. In some ways Descartes redux, in others Holden Caulfield, it is observational and analytic, a work of “philosophy” – but only to a sort.
Entirely non-academic and written for a popular audience, the book promotes the reader’s thought and engagement, challenging every preconception and assumption. Supporting this is a methodology which is loosely aphoristic: sometimes carrying a thought over several paragraphs, sometimes only a line or two. It is a work to be explored and re-explored, and its short sections and frequent divisions will keep the reader blissfully turning pages.
Presenting a philosophical soliloquy, the inquiries into life, art, culture, human nature, thinking and language, and finally technology and machines, form the sections of the book and explore what it is to be human today. Its deliberations don’t attempt any final answers (because how could there ever be any), but profound and unsettling questions are raised time and again.
Father Forgive Us, for We Know Not What We Do will evoke, entertain, enlighten, and above all encourage. Each of us is a work in progress.
Entirely non-academic and written for a popular audience, the book promotes the reader’s thought and engagement, challenging every preconception and assumption. Supporting this is a methodology which is loosely aphoristic: sometimes carrying a thought over several paragraphs, sometimes only a line or two. It is a work to be explored and re-explored, and its short sections and frequent divisions will keep the reader blissfully turning pages.
Presenting a philosophical soliloquy, the inquiries into life, art, culture, human nature, thinking and language, and finally technology and machines, form the sections of the book and explore what it is to be human today. Its deliberations don’t attempt any final answers (because how could there ever be any), but profound and unsettling questions are raised time and again.
Father Forgive Us, for We Know Not What We Do will evoke, entertain, enlighten, and above all encourage. Each of us is a work in progress.
281 pages, Paperback
Published January 1, 2020
7 people are currently reading
1870 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
May 22, 2021
”Father Forgive Us, for We Know not What We Do” is an adventure into the rapid hole of human nature, human existence, human thought, an impressive undertaking to uncover and shed light on the shadowy corners of the mind. The authors repeatedly have to recognize the limitations of that effort and that sensation of incompleteness, of never reaching a clear finish line, can be a source of frustration to some readers but there can’t be a closing, an ending; if you go deep enough you recognize that life itself prevents a final position, a last word. A point the book repeatedly makes– human existence is always a work in progress, always a becoming on its way through time.
4.5 stars
4.5 stars
June 28, 2021
This is a rare and unusual book, far from being perfect its depth is almost bottomless. It probes into human reality and surfaces with thought-provoking, at times hard to digest findings. The authors try to unwrap the human condition and even if the results at times seem unsatisfactory they offer much food for thought.
The book is universal and at the same time very personal. It’s intellectually involving before it becomes emotionally concerning. Its value lies on its questions and expositions.
It’s a dense read, not linear, not consistent, nor is there a conventional narrative structure but this reflects perfectly its nature. This work defies a simple evaluation; it’s above all a revelation of possibilities, an outlook at the order of human reality. I found it rewarding and an important read.
The book is universal and at the same time very personal. It’s intellectually involving before it becomes emotionally concerning. Its value lies on its questions and expositions.
It’s a dense read, not linear, not consistent, nor is there a conventional narrative structure but this reflects perfectly its nature. This work defies a simple evaluation; it’s above all a revelation of possibilities, an outlook at the order of human reality. I found it rewarding and an important read.
June 27, 2021
Reluctantly giving this book three and not two stars. I'll admit the author showed some glimpses of interesting thoughts, but they drown in his mantra of how: "life just happens to me" which is repeated ad infinitum . Where's the sense of personal responsibility for making the world a little less crappy? Good sir, you've clearly pondered and struggled with these thoughts for quite some time (which all of us do); what now? What's the next step?
September 20, 2020
Pure insight!
September 15, 2020
What a trip, not really sure how to rank it. Unusual, intense questions, common and not so common thought patterns; recommended to anybody interested in the human mind and nature. Be prepared for some uncomfortable revelations and reflections; it’s going to be a bumpy ride.
August 26, 2020
Different, thought provoking, all too human; a work of art.
July 2, 2021
It bothers, it troubles and upsets. It steers, it shows and reveals. It wants to reflect, wants to expose; wants to know my innermost.
Mirror, mirror on the wall who am I of them all?
Mirror, mirror on the wall who am I of them all?
May 16, 2021
Brilliant and soulful author, but depressed and unfinished book!
I was gripped by the title of this book as it invoked a deep feeling of ecological and societal depression in me I have wrestled with extensively, but now am looking forward to leave behind. Reading this book made me waver and feel like being sucked again into that dreadful state. The author does point to a different horizon, but his soul evidently is not ready to venture there and is stuck to the - yes, alas! and how utterly painful!- all too real fact of being crucified by reality.
There is a beckoning in the prayer he opens with his title, but does not expand. Thus the book feels unfinished, even only a beginning, a dark lonely moment on the cross with a faraway sirene of redemption that is smothered by his sincere souls' lament. I thoroughly empathize with the lament, from the bottom of my stomach, but I also feel we have to move on and make the passage to surrender to grace. The challenge here is: can we do that without "God", without gospel, learning from the creativity of religious traditions, yet not resorting to its given answers and living them anew, in this time, in this age.
"My potential, I may let it pass or I may not, it’s my responsibility, my choice, resentment doesn’t change a thing. I’m entrusted to find a self in my possibilities, to discover and recover, to make a synthesis, make a way. Sensibility and understanding are key; any help I get a gift. [...]"
"Possibility is greater than any reality. At times I look out from my little box afraid of the hostility, the cruelty, the seeming meaninglessness, longing for a state of benevolence, compassion, recognition, forgiveness. Heaven is waiting to be created, hell is coming by itself. Developing a new worldview, that changes everything. If I can resolve or modify some of my defensive systems and the image I’ve made of myself, then maybe I can be a doorway: maybe I can contribute a part of the new."
This is towards the end of the book. The hope and love I feel here is drowned by the nausea of most of the rest of the writing. Dear Helmut, let us not hang on to the cross of our depression, let us be resurrected to the hope and love that is our potential.
I was gripped by the title of this book as it invoked a deep feeling of ecological and societal depression in me I have wrestled with extensively, but now am looking forward to leave behind. Reading this book made me waver and feel like being sucked again into that dreadful state. The author does point to a different horizon, but his soul evidently is not ready to venture there and is stuck to the - yes, alas! and how utterly painful!- all too real fact of being crucified by reality.
There is a beckoning in the prayer he opens with his title, but does not expand. Thus the book feels unfinished, even only a beginning, a dark lonely moment on the cross with a faraway sirene of redemption that is smothered by his sincere souls' lament. I thoroughly empathize with the lament, from the bottom of my stomach, but I also feel we have to move on and make the passage to surrender to grace. The challenge here is: can we do that without "God", without gospel, learning from the creativity of religious traditions, yet not resorting to its given answers and living them anew, in this time, in this age.
"My potential, I may let it pass or I may not, it’s my responsibility, my choice, resentment doesn’t change a thing. I’m entrusted to find a self in my possibilities, to discover and recover, to make a synthesis, make a way. Sensibility and understanding are key; any help I get a gift. [...]"
"Possibility is greater than any reality. At times I look out from my little box afraid of the hostility, the cruelty, the seeming meaninglessness, longing for a state of benevolence, compassion, recognition, forgiveness. Heaven is waiting to be created, hell is coming by itself. Developing a new worldview, that changes everything. If I can resolve or modify some of my defensive systems and the image I’ve made of myself, then maybe I can be a doorway: maybe I can contribute a part of the new."
This is towards the end of the book. The hope and love I feel here is drowned by the nausea of most of the rest of the writing. Dear Helmut, let us not hang on to the cross of our depression, let us be resurrected to the hope and love that is our potential.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
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