The Saviors of God: Spiritual Exercises

N. Kazantzakis:"I know well that death cannot be conquered, but man's value is not measured by the Victory, but from the fight for Victory itself. And I know as well this, which is even more difficult: its not the fight for Victory - its only the value of the man, and is this: to live and die gallantly and to not condescent a reward. And further this, the third, which is even more difficult, the certainty that there is no reward should not scare you, but fill you with joy, pride, and bravery..."

I really like the author and I saw this book in a used bookstore and didn't get it. But then I couldn't get it out of my mind. So I went back to get it and I'm glad I did. It is a strong and moving book. He expresses the thoughts of someone who sees nothing but God. His life is God. This has nothing to do with any religion, as it is above a set of rules or beliefs. I can relate to him. Get the book if you can.

The name Nikos Kazantzakis is anathema to so many; countless Americans probably only know him as the man who authored the book "The Last Temptation of Christ" on which the controversial (and widely demonized) movie was based. There was much more to this man than met the eye, however. Such Americans don't know the reader of Nietzsche and Bergson, the man who idolized both Christ and Lenin as saviors of humanity, the brooding genius whose incisive glacial intellect was perpetually at war with the hot blood of his idealism and passion. A fascinating and fragmented character who ascended the peaks and explored the dark valleys of human experience more than most, Kazantzakis commits pen to paper here with a spirituality that will haunt the reader; it is more alive and explosive than any camp-meeting revival. Writing with a distinctly modernist tone of world-smashing and revolution akin to Marx and with a racy, frenetic, hot-blooded pace which D.H. Lawrence would've admired, Kazantzakis introduces us to HIS idea of God: not the friendly father figure of Christian lore, but the turbulent, primordial drive for life and change within the universe, striving (successfully, through sometimes violent fits and starts) to ascend, to create, to thrive, to "transubstantiate matter into spirit". More akin to Bergson's idea of "elan vital", this is a series of spell-binding meditations that most mainline believers of any stripe probably wouldn't like; precisely because it scares the living daylights out of you with its frightening possibilities and its sirens' call of seemingly chaotic life-affirming zest. The late Kazantzakis beckons to us across the void, urging us to take the plunge and gaze into that vortex without fear, even though we will lose all we are in the process.

"Nonsense" is a very draft and cruel word to characterize an attempt to describe the CHAOS. For that's what this book is. How can one describe the Chaos, the human agony for the purpose of life? Every time you visualize yourself as a tiny dot (equals to nothing compared to the universe) and you ask the all-time-big-questions, you fill the fear. If you want to ease your heart, read the bible, or whatever the holy book of your religion (we all do in times of despair). You will be reassured for the absolute truth for all your questions and fears. But if you want to keep your eyes open and dare to look at the chaos this book will be a good companion. It is not perfect, but is the best attempt I know. Using Kazantzakis' words from "Report to Greco", the author is "facing the chaos and says I like it!"

In this bewildering time of new-age quasi-sophistication or reactionary conservative histrionics regarding spiritual matters, Nikos Kazantzakis's "The Saviors of God" sparkles as a diamond amidst an overwhelming sea of trash. Ours is an age of excess, spiritually and materially (and all too often this line is blurred by televangelists and the like), and we, as a people, properly crave a spiritual instruction that lifts us gratefully above the banality surrounding us: a recent bumper-sticker shows the Christian fish symbol (the Greek letter alpha) "eating" a Darwin-fish (a fish with legs), and Bob Dylan once wrote of "flesh-colored Christs that glow in the dark." Kazantzakis's "The Saviors of God" is a truly illuminating underground masterpiece (comparable to the American poet H.D.'s startling "Notes on Thought and Vision"), employing Kazantzakis's usual muscular language and profoundly penetrating insight into what being human really means. Although written as prose, it reads as poetry; and spirituality is not, for this Greek giant, sickly (goofily) sweet or insultingly strident, but, rather, careful, intense, intelligent, and passionate. It is this "passion" that drives every word Kazantzakis wrote, and in "Saviors" his passion is carefully distilled into a short and readable text that will, quite simply, never be forgotten by any who has licked its honey. For this is the "mad honey" consumed by the priestesses of Delphi, and when Kazantzakis writes of thought being a "bird of flame" hopping from branch to branch, one knows that one's own head is equally ablaze. So, lay aside your Bibles, your Korans, your Torahs...and prepare yourself to tremble, for "The Saviors of God" is a spiritual earthquake composed not of stern admonitions (yawn) or threats, but of humility before the gift of divinely-composed flesh. Lust, herein, is not a sin, but is instead the holy of holies.