I have begun reading Panikkar, beginning from The Silence of God. I can't help noting that I am bored.... Which was not the case years ago, when I first began reading Panikkar, during my theology days. At that time, it was an experience of excitement and light upon light. What is the difference? The reasons could be many. But one that rises to the surface of my mind is: now I have waded through Lonergan. And I find - or I come away with the impression - that Panikkar is brilliant, but often just that: brilliant. For one who has passed through Lonergan, too many questions arise upon reading Panikkar. And he is (too) clever by far...
Might this irritate some lover of Panikkar? Maybe. But: this is my experience. And: I have come to no firm conclusion so far. So: no offence indicated. Just process.
But I do not (as of now) exclude the possibility of coming to some conclusion.
I am particularly intrigued by Panikkar's constant calling into question, in this book, the equation between Being and Thinking. Have to penetrate this. An old old conundrum.
Might this irritate some lover of Panikkar? Maybe. But: this is my experience. And: I have come to no firm conclusion so far. So: no offence indicated. Just process.
But I do not (as of now) exclude the possibility of coming to some conclusion.
I am particularly intrigued by Panikkar's constant calling into question, in this book, the equation between Being and Thinking. Have to penetrate this. An old old conundrum.
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