"You need to keep an open mind." I've been told this more times than I can count. As I considered this statement again tonight, I found myself considering not only the question of open and closed minds but also active and passive minds. One of the characteristics of an open mind, I'm told, is that it believes that "anything is possible." One becomes guilty of being closed-minded the moment X (whatever X might be) is deemed impossible. (I have found, however, that this rule only apply when the X that is rejected is on someone else's "favored" list. If I reject the same things that someone else rejects, I'm no longer closed-minded, I'm perceptive, or discerning, or intelligent, or wise, or..., and I'm still open-minded.)
I wonder whether the critical point here is truly open/closed, or active/passive. The person who says "anything is possible" really doesn't have any more to think about, except perhaps some romantic considerations of possibility that amount to flights of imagination. The mind in question is passive no matter how active it may seem. An idea can produce large quantities of highly energetic romantic "possibilities." Does that mean that said mind is active? Is such a mind any more active than the mind of someone having a dream?
On the other hand, what I've called an active mind does not accept "anything is possible" as sufficient grounds on which to stop thinking. The active mind examines, probes, analyses, compares, contrasts, and questions. It, too, may use romantic flights of imagination, but not as ends in themselves. And if the activity of the mind becomes the end what's left is a "gerbil wheel." Is that mind then any more active than the dreamer's?
And if all of this is true of the mind, is it not also true of the spirit (or soul)? Can one have an open spirit, a closed spirit, a passive spirit, or an active spirit? The idea of passive spirituality brings to mind those in my past who have questioned, "Why do you have to question everything? Why can't you just believe?" My answer is that I do believe. I believe the answers exist, even if I never find them.
How often do we find it simpler to enjoy large quanitites of highly energetic, romantic but passive spirituality than to actively pursue spirituality? When does the activity of the soul become a spiritual "gerbil wheel"?
Several years ago a friend commented that the characters in the movie "The Two Towers" were noble. This idea stunned me. Noble? I fussed and fumed. Noble? Eventually I realized that I had somehow attached the idea of detachment to nobility. Nobility was separate, clean (not in a moral sense) , and "above." The characters in "The Two Towers" were constantly dirty. How could they be noble? They were - and ultimately I realized that at least some of their nobility was the result of their being willing to be dirty.
Is the "open" and/or passive mind the separate, clean and "above" mind? Is the truly closed mind just as separate, clean and "above"? (A truly closed-mind is not discussed above, but it which will not consider any possibility. Doesn't that, however; include the mind that dismisses a specific possibility with an "anything's possible"?) Is the mind that is on a gerbil wheel any less detached? Are these statements just as true of spirits/souls? Is this not at heart of the call to be doers of the Word, and not merely hearers?
Friday, August 28, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
What's More Evil?
"What's more evil, murdering someone or eating a spoonful of peanut butter?" What a strange question! You know the typical answer. Of course, it's more evil to murder someone. I won't argue with you, but consider....
If you kill someone, you are "playing God."
When I talk about eating a spoonful of peanut butter, I'm not talking about providing sustenance to prevent starvation over the next day or to run a marathon. I'm talking about lasting another hour...another 20 minutes.... long enough for the microwave to beep its announcement that my "other" snack is done. I'm talking about when our appetites - for whatever - "play God." In that sense, the actions are equal.
Here is the critical question. To which temptation do we give in more often? The good news and the bad news for me is that I give in to eating peanut butter by the spoonful.
Pick your own evil for the comparison. Which is more evil, to murder someone or to ____________________? The greatest evil is the evil that you do, not the evil that you don't.
If you kill someone, you are "playing God."
When I talk about eating a spoonful of peanut butter, I'm not talking about providing sustenance to prevent starvation over the next day or to run a marathon. I'm talking about lasting another hour...another 20 minutes.... long enough for the microwave to beep its announcement that my "other" snack is done. I'm talking about when our appetites - for whatever - "play God." In that sense, the actions are equal.
Here is the critical question. To which temptation do we give in more often? The good news and the bad news for me is that I give in to eating peanut butter by the spoonful.
Pick your own evil for the comparison. Which is more evil, to murder someone or to ____________________? The greatest evil is the evil that you do, not the evil that you don't.
This is a Test
It may have been amusing at first. It may even have been socially or financially advantageous. Maybe it was just a little tic, a little quirk, or a bit of divined knowledge. We don't know how old the girl was or how long this had been going on. We don't know what role her mother may have had in creating the situation. It seems that her mother saw the danger that everyone else ignored, or she saw the hope that everyone else rejecte. More than likely the friends and family who were amused at first became embarrassed or even frightened as time went on. If there was a husband in the picture, if he hadn't disappeared with the others, perhaps he was the only one left who could physically control the girl so he'd stayed home.
Whatever the reason, she was on her way, and on her way alone. We don't know if she's stopped caring about how she looked, but the look in her eyes would have told anyone who saw her to stay out of her way. On her way. She shouldn't have been on her way at all. There was absolutely no reason for her to believe this man could or would help her. Oh, she'd heard rumors about him. He did miracles, they said. He was also male, Jewish and a Rabbi. She was a woman, a Canaanite, and she'd lost count of the number of gods she'd worshipped. What was one more? She started again. Alone and against all reason, she was on her way and nothing and no one was going to stop her from getting the help her daughter needed.
On the other side of town twelve men were on a mission. Their recent ministry schedule had been grueling. None of them had been getting enough sleep, meals were irregular at best. They were all exhausted. There was nowhere in Judea they could expect to be able to rest and recover. To make matter worse, Herod had beheaded John, and it was not the safest time to be a rising star in the Jewish religious community. So they'd left Israel and gone to the area of Tyre and Sidon.
The problem was Jesus. He was as exhausted as the rest of them, but the disciples knew that if anyone asked him for help, any hope of a rest would be lost. It was their job to protect him from the gentiles around them, and from himself. When they saw the woman, they knew the look on her face. They tried not to listen as she cried out but the words rang in their ears... My daughter... demon.... please.....Without a word and without warning, their rabbi began to test them all.
The first question to the disciples could have been, "Demonstrate what the Torah teaches about the treatment of aliens, strangers, and gentiles" (e.g. Leviticus 19:34, Leviticus 24:22, Deuteronomy 10:19.) They were startled by his silence. Perhaps he was even more tired than they'd thought. Perhaps he wouldn't help this woman - at least not tonight. They dared to hope.
He tested the woman as well. What would she do if he ignored her? At first she was startled by his silence. She'd thought he'd send her away. But then again, he was a rabbi and she was a gentile woman. He wouldn't talk to her. If he were a charlatain he might have tried to encourage her or show of his skills. Instead, he kept walking. She dared to hope, and continued her plea.
The disciples finally spoke up, to ask Jesus to send her away. Jesus said nothing, but could have asked a second silent question: demonstrate your understanding of what I taught the Pharisees (e.g. Matthew 12:9-12, Luke 6:6-9) and of what I taught you (e.g. Matthew 5:43-45.) Jesus didn't send her away, but the house where they'd be staying was in sight. If they could just get him there.... they dared to hope.
His silent challenge issued to the woman: what do you do if you face opposition? When the disciples (guards? keepers?) started suggesting he send her away, he didn't say anything. He didn't send her away. He behaved like a rabbi would, not like a charlatain. She dared to hope.
They'd reached the house. Jesus silently presented a third test: demonstrate what you learned from my feeding of 5000 people. They ushered Jesus inside and closed the door, and they dared to hope.
They'd closed the door. What would she do? She wanted to scream in frustration. Then the frustration melted into surprise. They hadn't posted a guard. She walked to the door and worked the latch. As she pushed open the door and stepped inside, she dared to hope.
The disciples gaped. Why hadn't they posted a guard? Why hadn't they barred the door? The woman had just barged in, strode right up and knelt before Jesus. She repeated her request as Jesus asked a final silent question of his disciples: Demonstrate what you learned in Samaria with the woman at the well, or the centurion with the paralyzed servant.
He finally spoke, "First let the children eat all they want, for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to their dogs." Here was his final challenge to her. What do you do when even I seem to reject you?
She wanted to laugh. He was finally talking. He was still acting just like a man, a Jew, and a rabbi. He was still not saying no. As an opening gambit in dickering, she'd heard better. She'd been bargaining, trading insults and flattering men and merchants all her life. This was familiar ground. If he could do what she'd heard.... She dared to hope and perhaps to smile. "Yes, Lord," she replied, "but even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs."
"Then he told her, 'For such a reply, you may go; the demon as left your daughter.'" (Mark 7:29)
1. Demontrate you understanding of what the Torah teaches about the treatment of aliens, strangers....
2. Demonstrate your understanding of what I taught the Pharisees and of what I taught you.
3. Demonstrate what you learned from my feeding of the Five Thousand.
4. Demonstrate the lesson you learned in Samaria with the woman at the well, or with the centurion with the paralyzed servant.
1. What do you do when I seem to ignore you?
2. What do you do when you face open opposition?
3. What do you do when the door is closed?
4. What do you do when even I seem to reject you?
Are you taking one of these tests right now? Which one? How are you doing?
Whatever the reason, she was on her way, and on her way alone. We don't know if she's stopped caring about how she looked, but the look in her eyes would have told anyone who saw her to stay out of her way. On her way. She shouldn't have been on her way at all. There was absolutely no reason for her to believe this man could or would help her. Oh, she'd heard rumors about him. He did miracles, they said. He was also male, Jewish and a Rabbi. She was a woman, a Canaanite, and she'd lost count of the number of gods she'd worshipped. What was one more? She started again. Alone and against all reason, she was on her way and nothing and no one was going to stop her from getting the help her daughter needed.
On the other side of town twelve men were on a mission. Their recent ministry schedule had been grueling. None of them had been getting enough sleep, meals were irregular at best. They were all exhausted. There was nowhere in Judea they could expect to be able to rest and recover. To make matter worse, Herod had beheaded John, and it was not the safest time to be a rising star in the Jewish religious community. So they'd left Israel and gone to the area of Tyre and Sidon.
The problem was Jesus. He was as exhausted as the rest of them, but the disciples knew that if anyone asked him for help, any hope of a rest would be lost. It was their job to protect him from the gentiles around them, and from himself. When they saw the woman, they knew the look on her face. They tried not to listen as she cried out but the words rang in their ears... My daughter... demon.... please.....Without a word and without warning, their rabbi began to test them all.
The first question to the disciples could have been, "Demonstrate what the Torah teaches about the treatment of aliens, strangers, and gentiles" (e.g. Leviticus 19:34, Leviticus 24:22, Deuteronomy 10:19.) They were startled by his silence. Perhaps he was even more tired than they'd thought. Perhaps he wouldn't help this woman - at least not tonight. They dared to hope.
He tested the woman as well. What would she do if he ignored her? At first she was startled by his silence. She'd thought he'd send her away. But then again, he was a rabbi and she was a gentile woman. He wouldn't talk to her. If he were a charlatain he might have tried to encourage her or show of his skills. Instead, he kept walking. She dared to hope, and continued her plea.
The disciples finally spoke up, to ask Jesus to send her away. Jesus said nothing, but could have asked a second silent question: demonstrate your understanding of what I taught the Pharisees (e.g. Matthew 12:9-12, Luke 6:6-9) and of what I taught you (e.g. Matthew 5:43-45.) Jesus didn't send her away, but the house where they'd be staying was in sight. If they could just get him there.... they dared to hope.
His silent challenge issued to the woman: what do you do if you face opposition? When the disciples (guards? keepers?) started suggesting he send her away, he didn't say anything. He didn't send her away. He behaved like a rabbi would, not like a charlatain. She dared to hope.
They'd reached the house. Jesus silently presented a third test: demonstrate what you learned from my feeding of 5000 people. They ushered Jesus inside and closed the door, and they dared to hope.
They'd closed the door. What would she do? She wanted to scream in frustration. Then the frustration melted into surprise. They hadn't posted a guard. She walked to the door and worked the latch. As she pushed open the door and stepped inside, she dared to hope.
The disciples gaped. Why hadn't they posted a guard? Why hadn't they barred the door? The woman had just barged in, strode right up and knelt before Jesus. She repeated her request as Jesus asked a final silent question of his disciples: Demonstrate what you learned in Samaria with the woman at the well, or the centurion with the paralyzed servant.
He finally spoke, "First let the children eat all they want, for it is not right to take the children's bread and toss it to their dogs." Here was his final challenge to her. What do you do when even I seem to reject you?
She wanted to laugh. He was finally talking. He was still acting just like a man, a Jew, and a rabbi. He was still not saying no. As an opening gambit in dickering, she'd heard better. She'd been bargaining, trading insults and flattering men and merchants all her life. This was familiar ground. If he could do what she'd heard.... She dared to hope and perhaps to smile. "Yes, Lord," she replied, "but even the dogs under the table eat the children's crumbs."
"Then he told her, 'For such a reply, you may go; the demon as left your daughter.'" (Mark 7:29)
Two Tests:
2. Demonstrate your understanding of what I taught the Pharisees and of what I taught you.
3. Demonstrate what you learned from my feeding of the Five Thousand.
4. Demonstrate the lesson you learned in Samaria with the woman at the well, or with the centurion with the paralyzed servant.
1. What do you do when I seem to ignore you?
2. What do you do when you face open opposition?
3. What do you do when the door is closed?
4. What do you do when even I seem to reject you?
Are you taking one of these tests right now? Which one? How are you doing?
Not as well as the disciples?
Better than the disciples?
As well as the woman?
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
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