WITH Otto having established that human self-consciousness pales into insignificance during the unparalleled approach of the numinous, something which must be distinguished from more general feelings of dependence or inferiority, the philosopher also wishes to focus on the self-depreciation that arises as a direct consequence of original sin.

Many are the saints and mystics who have felt unworthy in the sight of God, at that pivotal moment when the consciousness is overwhelmed by the presence of the numinous. As Otto explains, this

self-depreciating feeling-response is marked by an immediate, almost instinctive, spontaneity. It is not based on deliberation, nor does it follow any rule, but breaks, as it were, palpitant from the soul—like a direct reflex movement at the stimulation of the numinous. It does not spring from the consciousness of some committed transgression, but rather is an immediate datum given with the feeling of the numen: it proceeds to ‘disvalue’ together with the self the tribe to which the person belongs, and indeed, together with that, all existence in general. (p.50).

Unlike those feelings of guilt or inconsequentiality that arise as a result of sin, however, the mystical experience is not centred on moral precepts. One is not transgressing a particular code of behaviour, but arriving at the realisation that one is profane in comparison to the sacred. Otto is not relating this to a particular human character or individual personality, but the insignificance one feels in the presence of a deity that is the supreme power in the universe.

In turn, the human subject bestows upon the numinous the qualities of perfection, goodness and superiority. Beyond these purely conceptual terms, however, the mystic ascribes to his object of devotion a more transcendent value that may be described as “the holy”. In the context of religion, therefore, the

appreciation of moral obligation and duty, ranking as a claim of the deity upon man, has been developed side by side with the religious feeling itself. None the less a profoundly humble and heartfelt recognition of ‘the holy’ may occur in particular experiences without being always or definitely charged or infused with the sense of moral demands. The ‘holy’ will then be recognized as that which commands our respect, as that whose real value is to be acknowledged inwardly. It is not that the awe of holiness is itself simply ‘fear’ in face of what is absolutely overpowering, before which there is no alternative to blind, awe-struck obedience. (p.51)

In other words, one does not bow to a mighty power simply on the basis of the power that is being wielded, but due to a recognition that the power has a right to command one’s obedience. For Otto, that which is “transcendent” relates solely to ontology and contains no higher value in itself. Indeed, it is not transcendence that imbues the devotee with a desire to serve but the efficacious presence of something extraordinarily “august” (augustum).

Sin works somewhat differently in that the individual who transgresses a moral law despairs of his own inadequacy, whilst the self-devaluation that is felt when encountering the numinous is borne of respect and reverence.

Otto mentions how there are times when people feel the need to “cover” themselves before the numinous as a means of hiding their own profanity, usually through consecration and atonement, but this effort to make oneself appear less worthless is actually a device of God to allow us to meet “the holy” on common ground. The present writer is reminded of an amusing episode in Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s posthumous novel, The Leopard (1958), whereby a class-conscious baron is disturbed at the thought that a visiting peasant who has recently come into some money is arriving for dinner in the same evening dress as himself. Consequently, the baron is relieved to discover that his counterpart is wearing ill-fitting clothes and has thus retained his lower station. We should not, of course, entertain the idea that the numinous could somehow feel tarnished or offended by the presence of a mere human.

Nonetheless, the conscientious man of religion feels a natural impulse to overcome his feelings of subordination and yet this mundane and rational obsession may cloud his spiritual consciousness and, thus, prevent him from attaining the wondrous numinosity of the non-rational. Furthermore, the desire for atonement – which, ordinarily, belongs to the realm of morality – must never allow one to drift into the perilous waters of self-loathing.

It goes without saying that Otto’s strong Lutheran background is responsible for his assertion that Christianity is the best religion for the realisation of atonement, and that this fact makes it superior to all others. It may be presented in rational terms to the extent that one finds it mentioned in the liturgy, but for Otto atonement in the presence of the numinous is more crucially a “moment” that outweighs religious dogma and which is also tantamount to a mystical experience:

The interval between the creature and Him is not diminished but made absolute; the unworthiness of the profane in contrast to Him is not extenuated but enhanced. That God none the less admits access to Himself and intimacy with Himself is not a mere matter of course; it is a grace beyond our power to apprehend, a prodigious paradox. To take this paradox out of Christianity is to make it shallow and superficial beyond recognition. (p.56)

To summarise, the inadequate adjectives that we employ to describe the mystical experience may be quantified – and thus qualified – by a pre-eminent value-system in which the categories of rationalism, including the moral codes we observe on a more everyday level, have no place.