The New Philosophy Vol 114 No 3-4, July-December 2011
The Annual Meeting of the Swedenborg Scientific Association took place on Saturday April 24, 2011, in the dining room at Cairnwood Village, Bryn Athyn. After dinner, the meeting was called to order at 7:30 PM. President Rev. Dr. Reuben Bell welcomed members and friends, and called for reports from the publisher/editor and treasurer, published in this issue.
Swedenborg wrote extensively on the brain and developed a unique paradigm of brain-body interconnection as part of a greater anatomically-based theory of soul-body interaction. He worked on and developed these ideas of fluid and fascial connections throughout the years of his anatomical studies, especially during preparation for his The Economy of the Animal Kingdom (also translated from Latin into English as The Dynamics of the Soul’s Domain) and The Animal Kingdom (also translated as TheSoul’s Domain).
There must be a difference in meaning between these two terms, otherwise why would they so often be used together in Swedenborg’s theological writings? If they both meant the same thing, that would be a redundancy. Throughout this paper I will be using the term scientifics for what are usually translated “memory-knowledges” or even “facts;” and cognitions for what are usually translated “knowledges” or “Knowledges.”
Robert C. Fulford was born on September 12, 1905, in Cincinnati, Ohio, to a middle class family with a father who worked as an attorney and a mother who worked as a school teacher. Young Robert was a “sickly child,” so as he got older the family moved out to the country to improve his health, relocating to a farm in Mt. Washington, Ohio, near Cincinnati. Robert quickly learned the discipline of farm life, doing early morning chores, caring for cows, horses, pigs, and chickens. This discipline would serve him well the rest of his life. His health improved.
The mystic treads a lonely path. Onlookers from one side sling the profane at him, those watching from the other side sling the sacred. The mystic is bespattered, caked in a mixture that permeates through all his words and deeds. Followers and detractors are lured with equal ease (or difficulty), attracted and disgusted by the claims of insight and privileged knowledge. Both sets are passionate and problematic. As year is plastered over year, and the grass grows green above the mystic’s grave, support might increase, but so might the original message become distorted or diluted. Meanwhile the detractors might fade away, train their gaze on a different mark—shooting a moving target is more rewarding. But perhaps, more worryingly for the devotees, these mockers and scoffers may move on because they feel the foundations have been blown asunder and leveling rubble is too much of a chore. Whatever it is that transpires—adoration, neglect, degradation, respect—it is somehow irrelevant, for the mystic is forever a man of the elsewhere and the subjunctive, whose intended audience is never realized, but always in realization.