Reflections on Simone Weil, Waiting for God, 1951.

I have had the occasion of reading many authors whom I respect refer to Simone Weil, Waiting for God, (1951). I have not made the time to read it until now. What I want to share are some things that I found spiritually formative for me, and therefore, I hope, for someone else who might read this.
On page 69, she makes a comment about her reading. Since I have long enjoyed reading, I tend to pay attention to such comments. She wants to feel a call to read particular books, it seems. “As far as possible I only read what I am hungry for at a moment when I have an appetite for it, and then I do not read, I eat.” I can identify with this at one level. I develop a taste for a certain type of reading. For a recent example, ever since around 2000, my steady diet has been philosophy and Church Dogmatics by Karl Barth. I tend to “eat.” It took over two years to read Church Dogmatics. In 2009, I read, back to back, the writings of Hegel and Kierkegaard. In 2010, I read, back to back, Plato and Aristotle. I like “eating” with such authors. Of course, the life of a pastor does not always lend itself to such an approach. Some reading and study is because of classes and sermons. However, I find that discipline is also helpful. In that context, I often study authors I would not normally study. Yet, the discipline gets me out of my own hungers and to the hungers of others. I find that to be helpful spiritually. In that sense, I think she limits herself too much to read only the things for which she has an appetite.
On page 77, she offers what I think is a helpful insight regarding the Incarnation in Christian teaching. She thinks it suggests a harmony of individuality and the collective. I can agree with that, in that respect for individuality and community is essential for a proper understanding of creation, reconciliation, and redemption. For some philosophical and theological background for this notion, Hegel also interpreted the Incarnation in this way. Pannenberg as a modern theologian would also move this direction. I would apply her insight into other areas of thought as well. What particularly strikes me is that alienating critiques, in which one rejects in a totalistic away the culture or thought of others, would be set aside if more people had her understanding of the Incarnation. On a psychological level, we would stop having an “alienating critique” of parents, behaving as children who must reject everything parents stand for. On a political level, marxism provides an alienating critique of Western Civilization. Noam Chomskey does as well. Some people within the church will provide a largely alienating critique of the church. What the Incarnation is that a reconciliation of such oppositions is what is ahead. That which may feel so opposite to us will find its reconciliation and redemption.
On page 107, she refers to the story of the father giving a child a stone instead of bread. In some ways, the hunger that human beings have for a meaningful and purposeful life is a desire for “bread.” Yet, for many thinkers, whether arising out of science or existentialism, do not believe the bread is there. From their perspective, the universe will give only a stone. The Christian hope, of course, is that the bread is there. It will sustain us now, and give its fullness in eternity.
On page 156 she offers the opinion that religion must give up on being totalitarian if it is truly to be everywhere. Her point, I think, is that religion fulfills its purpose as it addresses spiritual needs, which are indeed universal. When a religion tries to dominate in the political, cultural, and economic life of a nation, it becomes totalitarian, and therefore, limits itself to these specific areas of human activity. I like this notion, in that when religion limits its social, economic, and political role as an institution, it has the potential of having its broadest and deepest influence in the lives of people and society. The threads that hold a society together are thin. They are the values by which people live and interact with others in the family, the work place, in school, in the press, in entertainment, in political life, and in the market place. If religious institutions become little more than another political lobbying group, they limit their influence and become little more than part of the problem.
She refers to the writers of antiquity as saying, “A man loses half his soul the day he becomes a slave.” I have done a google search and have so far been unable to locate its source, other than Simone Weil. I sure would like to know who wrote this! It is a wonderful saying.
On page 170, she says that one cannot contemplate without love. She points out that in order to contemplate, we need a certain admiration for the object of contemplation. I would apply this, again, to the struggle I have with alienating critiques. If all you see when you look at your parents is alienation, you have not contemplated deeply enough. If all you see when you look at the church is alienation, that is, separation from it, you have not contemplated deeply enough. This is my problem with people like Marx and Chomsky, as they analyze Western Civilization. If all you see is reasons to separate yourself from it, then you are involved in an alienating and totalistic critique. Theologically, I would argue that have not contemplated enough so that you can see the traces of grace in your personal history or cultural history. She goes on to say that the artist, scholar, philosopher, and contemplative, should admire the world. She was no idealist, of course, for she struggles with notions of God and suffering. Yet, she wants us to pierce beyond the veil to perceive the beauty of the world, which includes what human beings have created.
On pages 183-186, she stresses that a change in religion is an important decision, for it will change the way you look at the world.
On page 195, she disagrees with Pascal in saying that we search for God, hence, the title of this book: waiting for God. She admits that she never sought for God. God is the one who grasped her.
On page 198, she refers to the “trap of traps,” that of the social feeling one has in being part of a religious community. She thinks that this social feeling is an imitation of faith, and as such, the closeness we feel in a religious community is deceptive. She finds that this feeling of comity with others is almost indistinguishable from faith itself. I am not sure what to do with this thought. I am sure God is at work in the community. For me, that social feeling, if you please, was instrumental in bringing me away from a dysfunctional community, my alcoholic home, and brought me to a healthier spiritual home. That move led me to Christian schools and relationships with other students and professors that provided me further guidance. I am confident God was at work in all of this. Thus, it might be unfair to separate faith from community as starkly as she wants to do. At the same time, pastors and laity know that the community of the church is no substitute for faith in God. After all, pastors (and I am sure most laity) have experienced the darkness of the church as well. One reason that so many in society are no longer part of the church is their disappointment with it. The church will let you down. Therefore, if you are to continue in your relationship with God, the bond must be beyond just a social feeling. As she goes on to point out, God is the true neighbor, friend, and sacrament of the believer.