Bringing the "holi" to "holiday"

Today I got to have family day. It's what you would want—gift giving, card exchanges, beautiful words said, emotions of delight on everyone's face. It's good for the soul to have those once in a while. Too many times those occasions arise infrequently so the refreshment does not carry into the next occasion. Therefore, it's refreshing to hear from the hearts of those we love and see happiness on their faces.

Tomorrow brings a whole new dynamic. Work routines return for some of us. Duties split us in different directions. But today was cozy. It was a recharge to a person's battery. I'll internalize this one for the dry spells up ahead.

Replicating Jesus Moments

It's amazing how people change their thinking about you if they see conflicting information to their perceived notion about you. I saw such a transformation earlier last week. A woman I work around saw me going and coming over a period of about 4 months. This last month she and I engaged in several conversations. I am guilty of toying with people's minds, but the point of such toying is to try to encourage growth.

So, the toying began. Language is my game, so we had a number of conversations about words. I tried to get her to see some of the theories about language and society, including taboo language, but also including language behavior in general. Occasionally, when this happens, the person's notion about me is that I have too liberal of leanings to be a Christian. I could tell this was the case in this instance.

So, I fenced this woman into a conversation in which she raised the question about how much I might know about the Bible. She was going to elaborate, of course, on how the Good Book might mitigate some of the statements I had made. After we talked further, I could tell she changed her mind about where I stood on Christianity and the Good Book. We actually both advanced our understanding of and respect for the other's beliefs. Thus, a bond was formed.

Growth for both of us took place. I love it when those moments are so manifest that it is unmistakable that God has been in the place, the work place in this instance. The Great Teacher was like this—toying with people until he fenced them into a better understanding of and respect for the unmistakable presence of the Maker. The ending refrain of the Delirious song I Take Off My Shoes comes to mind for just these moments in time. "I take off my crown, and fall at Your feet—so holy!"

The scene is over

Impotence is the word that comes to mind. Even after a year. The event is so unbelievable that you just find yourself shaking your head, replaying parts of the trauma as if to savor it and dismiss it at the same time. You wish you could just get control of the movie and end it before it got so bad. But, there is no control—absolutely no control. The scene is over. It cannot be reperformed. It is final. There is no control—absolutely no control.

For 2 years after the event, I still listened to songs to heal the deeply cut wound in my heart. The songs were salve to the wound. I felt better after listening to them. But I wanted what could not be granted. I wanted to have no death in the family. I wanted it so badly, I felt that my desire alone could control going back in time and changing the matter. What if I had been able to take him to the doctor earlier. What if I had gotten stronger medicine earlier or investigated the experimental or homeopathic options earlier. What if... What if... But there was no control—absolutely no control over the past.

The Creator had visited my life, and it was a Jacob's ladder experience. I had wrestled for a year and two months side by side with my son. I was tired, yet optimistic that He would heal. The very last day was still a day of hope when it began. But the Creator visited. His word was that I had no control. That was the most impotent moment in life.

I have not really railed against the Creator of life asking, "Why?" I don't get answers from Him that way. So, I lean on the evidence of what can't be seen. I attach the greatest importance to the words of the Creator's words through the Son of Man.

You have trusted God. Now trust me. In my father's compound are many, many dwellings. IF IT WERE NOT SO, I WOULDN'T HAVE TOLD YOU... I will come again and take you to be with me so that you, too, can be where I am.

I also found the basic "location" in which the greatest faith trees are planted. It was in the words of the song by Matthew West, "My Finest Hour."

The king of contradictions strikes again.
You said the last to cross the finish line will win.
The beggars will be millionaires someday.
And the humble ones are going to have their say.
Well, all my friends are gone now,
And all my money's gone now,
And all my pride is gone now,
And if what you say is true now—
This will be my finest hour.
This will be my finest hour!

Well, everything is opposite down here.
The strong survive and the rest just disappear.
Ah, but your philosophy is more unique.
You say I'll be stronger when I'm weak.
And this will be my finest hour.
This will be my finest hour!

It's 2 AM and sleepless,
How wide awake and restless.
I don't know what my deal is.
I've never felt so helpless.
O-h-h-h-h... I need you more than ever.

No, I don't understand it,
I don't think I'll ever comprehend it.
It's so hard to conceive it.
So, I guess I'll just believe it.
This will be my finest hour.
This will be my finest hour!

So, I live life now in one hour increments—the "finest hour" increment because I have no control—absolutely no control.

Alterations

Somehow I knew that resuming "normal" life would not happen. Some events cause change. Some events turn the direction of the path so that one can't see ahead or behind on the path. Some events serve a person notice that he can never return to the way affairs had been. Instinctively, I knew that the future would be charted differently. The balance of relationships with immediate family had been totally altered. The future of those relationships would definitely be different. How holidays would be celebrated would be different. How proceeding at work would be different just because the zest, purpose, and energy for working had changed. And, of course, the set of questions one asks the Maker become different. So, one would expect religious behavior and theological understanding to take an expected twist.

All of the above did happen. It was truly hard to muddle through the first Christmas with only one child instead of two. The intense examination of one's actions and intentions leading up to and away from my son's departure from this world, led to a new eyes and more resolve to live according to personal principles rather than to live without saying what is on the mind or compromising to keep the peace. So, of course marital relations changed. Work was a total burn-out. I knew I would have to do something different very soon. And, yes, I felt that I needed to make a correction toward spirituality and away from religiosity, toward a theological understanding of not having regrets from one moment to the next and away from participating in the charade that God had waved a magic wand and that everything was all right or the same.

What is this world about if what one works hard to instill in posterity is uprooted, yanked away? I wanted that answer but knew that it would be an endless odyssey if I embarked on that journey. I turned to the only thing I knew that would put me back on the path of finding sense in the midst of great questioning. It had worked before. I trusted that it would work again. I began translating some of the New Testament from Greek -1st Peter, 1st and 2nd Thessalonians, various texts from the gospels. It helped me focus on the Creator, the one who still cared for me, who would stand by me till the end. Hopefully, not the bitter end either.

Finally, the darkness in the woods began to lift. It was gradual. Triggers around town still set off strong memories. But, I was able to let the Creator begin pumping life back into me. Songs such as Casting Crown's "Voice of Truth" and "Praise Him in the Storm" helped in allowing life to creep back in. Delerious' songs "Obsession" and "Jesus" helped in rekindling feeling where nerves had been numbed.

It's different now. But how meaningful each waking moment has become. Maybe I found the definition of "precious" in places where before I had taken them for granted.

Associations everywhere-but healing too

There were triggers all around. I would hear a song. It would put me right back in the hospital room or the funeral. I would see friends of my son. They would bring back all the not-so-old memories. I would pass a college. That's the spot in life my son was supposed to be occupying. I would see a televeision program with a loved one who had a life-threatening program. The parallel sent my mind spinning again into the world of just 6 months ago when my son had his life in this world.

But there was no song that would bring me to my knees more quickly than the Mercy Me song, I Can Only Imagine. I would stop whatever I was doing if I heard it and reflect on the events of the recent past. The same happened with Trane's song, Calling All Angels. Time would halt, immediately. When the song was over, time could start again. The two songs I had dedicated to my son's healing while he was alive I had to listen to every so often and ask why healing had not been in the cards for my son.

But, songs were the healing method for the raw pain to become soothed. Michael W. Smith's song, Healing Rain came out about 9 months after this traumatic event in my life. I couldn't get enough of it. I would turn on the radio and be disappointed if I didn't hear it. When I bought the CD of it, I could play it at will, which I did so many times.

Healing rain is coming down,
is coming nearer to this old town
Rich and poor, weak and strong,
It's bringing mercy; it won't be long.

Healing rain is coming down
It's coming closer to the lost and found.
Tears of joy and tears of shame
Are washed forever in Jesus' name.

Healing rain, it comes with fire
So let it fall and take us higher.
Healing rain, I'm not afraid
to be washed in Heaven's rain.

Lift your heads, let us return
To the mercy seat where time began
In your eyes, I see the pain.
Come soak this dry heart with healing rain.

Only you, the Son of Man
Can take a leper and let him stand.
So, lift your hands; they can be held
by someone greater, the Great I am.

Healing rain is coming down
It's coming closer to the lost and found.
Tears of joy and tears of shame
Are washed forever in Jesus' name.

Healing rain, it comes with fire
So let it fall and take us higher,
Healing rain, I'm not afraid
to be washed in Heaven's rain.

Healing is falling down, healing rain is falling down

I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid.

Healing rain is falling down.

Let it rain, let it rain.

How in the world?

The number one thought on my mind was, "How in the world am I going to make it to the end of life after having my heart r-i-p-p-e-d o-u-t? It's horrendous beyond belief, but it just happened. It did happen. It's real. And it is so, so final—and so, so irreversible. I don't know if I can really live."

After returning to work, I remember going through the motions, but with not much zest for life. Ever so slowly, I learned the lesson of parallel worlds. Two worlds do exist with life in them. I continued to walk in the park, continued to pray, "My father who is in heaven," continued to realize that "in my father's compound are many houses," continued to say "I'll catch up to you soon," and added a new utterance, "Thank you, father, for the safekeeping of my precious son."

Talking to the dead is not something that I have ever done before. I did find it necessary to do, however, because there were some matters left untended. I had to try to make sure that a message was heard. I had to apologize for all my wrong moves. I had to relate all the plans that I had wanted to see him complete. The next life is such "an undiscovered territory," as Shakespeare put it, that it leads you to do things that might not be right or accurate, but on the outside chance that they are, you do it. I don't know if my son heard a single word, but I had to tell him.

And dreams... oh, I wanted to have a dream of communication from the next life. I had one all right, but it was not one that I could say was not the machinations of my own my mind. It wasn't clear that it was communication from that other world. But I heard so much from others about seeing angels at the time of death, or seeing a bright light as the spirit departed. I wanted that experience too. I received silence. I wanted to hear a voice. I received soundless space.

So, I worked... and tried to care about my work. But, I had to work at caring about work. How in the world was I going to make it after my heart had been R-I-P-P-E-D O-U-T?

Where to place my stakes

I had taken 2 weeks off from work. I have no idea how most of those days went. I do remember walking in the park that is close to the house every morning and evening. I would walk within 15 minutes of getting up and within 30 minutes of closing down for the night. I know it was my salvation, however.

There's a cement pathway near the primeter of the park. It's ringed by willows and pecans. When the day's first rays filter through the trees, something celestial dawns on the conscious awareness. I simply put one foot in front of the other and walk a mile. And that's the phrase I still remember most of that 2-week time period—one foot in front of the other. I didn't have a whole lot to think about except why I was in the condition I was in. It was not supposed to be the way it was. So, around the park I would go uttering the Lord's prayer. If anyone did watch me making the rounds of the park, they had to be wondering why or what I was constantly muttering under my breath. It was the only thing I could say. I knew better than to lash out to God. But, I still knew that I had to find my way in a forest of different thoughts. So, I staked my 2 weeks' recovery period before reporting back to work on 2 recitations. They flowed from my lips morning and evening. Beyond those 2 recitations, I knew nothing. So, my lips moved:

My father in heaven, your name is sacred.

I wish for the coming of your kingdom.

I wish for your will to be done on earth just like it is in heaven.

Give us today the bread we need,

and forgive us our wrongdoing as we have forgiven wrongdoings against us.

Do not lead us into temptation but deliver us from the evil one

because to you belongs the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever. So it is.

Many times I would go line by line thinking through every word and how it applied to my new world without the flesh and blood member I had grown so used to seeing everyday and who represented my future. The 4th line I concentrated on. The 4th line the Maker delivered on. My days went by without a lapse into deep, dark depression.

In my father's compound are many, many houses. If it were not so, I wouldn't have told you it was. I am going to prepare a place for you. And if I go to prepare you a place, I will come again and take you to be with me so that you can be where I am.

The second sentence I repeated time and time again. I had to bank on either the reality of what I see is what I get or that life after death was both truth and reality. It helped me to address the one I loved and lost. It helped me adopt the phrase for my future, "I'll catch up to you soon." I can now actually look forward to the life after this one. If it were not true, the Son of Man would not have lied. He even said, "I wouldn't have told you it was true if it wasn't."

Even today I look upward and whisper, "I'll catch up to you soon."

The cold ground

Finally, the day arrives. It's been in the back of the mind since the afternoon that fate took its fatal twist. The day that finalizes the separation of body from planet. The day that inevitably rips what little root has been left in the heart completely from its dirt. The day in which the long last gaze upon the spiritless frame that represents the memories of years. The day finally arrives.

Yeah, there's a tribute ceremony, but it's not the same as a send-off or a time for bon voyage. The ceremony helps serves as the lock and key barring the ones who stay on this earth from the ones who are granted safe passage to the life after this one. The ceremony is a time to share with those outside the family's circle a circumstance or two that characterized the life of the one who left. The send-off happened days before.

The night immediately following the tributes given starts the really l-o-o-o-n-g journey without the person who so long has been a part of your essence. What does one do now? Life seems unimaginable any more. One of the reasons for living has been removed. Why must one go on without his presence? How does one move beyond this point that no one can believed just happened? Putting one foot in front of the other seems a little trite, but it is the only truth to the questions above.

Ah, there's a subject—truth! Bah humbug! Reality is the only game in town, not truth. Truth is lying in the cold ground.

A broken law

The morning broke without my attention to it. Somewhere in the light hours of morning I awoke to the breaking realization that something irreversible had happened the day before. I couldn't control it and disliked it with such great animostiy that to say I had an issue with its irreversibility would be a gross understatement.

The day's duties were clear cut. What happens at a funeral home is pretty standard around the states. Probably, so is what happens in one's mind, but a person's background governs his experience so that the thoughts become intensely personal. At first the disbelief is great. Each morning of 5 mornings the sun rose with the hope that matters would be different. But, they were not different. With strict uniformity the hope vanished because there would never be another conversation with the person I intensely loved. Visual communication had halted completely. It was a world with no picture.

Besides the normal dawning of this nether world of separation was the overwhelming thought that what happened was so, so wrong. Surely the Creator of life would never require that children precede their parents on the journey to the next life. Parents go first. It's written in stone. That is also irreversible. How could it be that that law has been overturned! It came into my conscious mind as voice so reverberatingly loud that I just shook my head over and over and over. The voice didn't leave nor did the thunder of its sound diminish.

All 5 days were as one. The routines were to eat and sleep mainly, and visit with family who had arrived for comfort. But the voice and its accompanying thunder were routine as well. All the intense care for a year suddenly and screechingly came to an immediate stop. And it was wrong, just plain wrong. The Healer had been implored a hundred times by many people. But His answer was that he would heal in His way, not ours-in His place, not ours. Did he not care that one of the inviolable rules had been broken. Parents take the journey home before their children. Always. It's written in stone! No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!

Black hole

Dusk appeared outside. But, the night that it announced wouldn't be cozy. In fact, it would lead to the worst nightfall one can experience. Even one's own death could not be worse.

I don't even remember how or why I came home. Habit I suppose. I was numb after having wrung every emotional ounce of tears onto the hospital floor just 3 hours before. Since 7:00 I had been alone. I wish I could think of what pulsed through my mind. That's a blackness. I had uttered words based on what a nurse had done for physical comfort months ago. She repeated the soothing refrain, "Think of a blue room. What you love is in the middle of the room. It's so pleasant." I never rehearsed what I would say at the appointed time because I didn't want to be a non-believer in the awsome power of the Healer. But, at the appointed time my lips moved with sound, "Think of a white room. Think of a throne in the center. Think of the golden crown you are wearing." I never made it past that point in speaking. I just repeated the three-phrase utterance.






In my blackness, I hope I recounted every good memory, every word of love given out. I do know that I knew why I was alone. The reason was a demon all its own. It only added to the blackness. Somewhere around midnight, figuratively and literally, and very real on either level, I slept. As did someone I loved. But, I would wake again. The one I loved did too, just not in the world he left behind the evening before.

490 misses the point

I hate it when I get into an old argument with someone. The outcome is the same because the issue is the same. The emotions involved in the argument are the same. It's like seeing the same movie over and over. I had just such an occasion today.

The issue is over a hurt inflicted by a third party. It was a deep hurt inflicted on both of us in the argument by this third party. But the infliction of the wound was several years back. I think the difference is that one of us has practiced the principle of forgiveness while the other has allowed resentments to fester.

"How many times should a person forgive another believer?" Jesus knew the angle of the question being asked. He knew humans loved limits. They love to extract justice after a limit has been reached—a sort of 3 strikes and you're out philosophy. So when Peter mentions the suggestion of a limit like 7 times, Jesus multiplies the 7 by 10 and further multiplies that answer times the 7 used as the delimiting factor. The kicker is that Jesus gives a reason for doing so:

"... because the Kingdom of heaven is like this. Once there was a king who decided to check on his servants' accounts. He had just begun to do so when one of them was brought in who owed him millions of dollars." You know the rest of the story. The whole episode is in Matthew 18. I know my life. I owe a million dollars. I do not want to be guilty of turning around and asking someone to pay for a $10 debt. Although I get accused of not caring, I will not continue with thinking of the hurt. It doesn't matter in light of the grand scheme of how ugly my own life is without grace. Forget it. The Maker of all people is also their judge. If he thinks the third party should suffer recrimination for the hurt inflicted, then so be it. But, it's not because I am asking for it. I am grateful for the mercy I have received time and again rather than the recrimination that should have come my way.

So when the argument comes up again, I will be silent on the issue again. The Great Teacher has said forgiveness is the best path. I am going to eat, grab my keys and get on down the road. I have moved on regardless of the hurt. It's not my call. My call is in the form of an equation: 70 X 7.

If the spirit ain't happy...

This past week was a physically exhausting week. But, this weekend after catching up on rest, something very rejuvenating happened in my spirit. Like mama, if the spirit ain't happy, ain't nothing happy (and vice versa—if the spirit is happy, every other organ is happy).

What rejuvenates me the most is a scripture enlightenment. This weekend a colleague of mine came to stay. He also is a New Testament scholar, so we engaged in quite a few conversations about religion and scripture. But, today we ventured onto the hard sayings of Jesus. In particular, we looked at Matthew 11.12. It was on my mind because a teacher I had heard recently had applied the verse to Christians being assertive in their faith through their relationship with the Holy Spirit. He had used the New International Version for the wording of the verse (which was totally different from the version I was carrying). That threw me into fits since I thought that using the verse in that way was a total miscarriage of interpretive rules. But, having the conversation with my friend helped in resting my soul about the matter.

Matthew 11.12 according to two versions and their variant translations:

From the time John preached his message until this very day the Kingdom of heaven has suffered violent attacks, and violent men try to seize it. (Good News)

From the time John preached his message until this very day the Kingdom of heaven has been coming violently, and violent men try to seize it. (Good News footnote of another way to translate the verse)

And from the time John the Baptist began preaching and baptizing until now, the Kingdom of Heaven has been forcefully advancing, and violent people attack it. (New Living Translation)

And from the time John the Baptist began preaching and baptizing until now, eager multitudes have been pressing into the Kingdom of Heaven. (New Living Translation footnote of another way to translate the verse)

These 4 renderings of the verse are representative of the 4 main ways to translate/interpret this verse. The second one, from the Good News, is closest to the way I would understand the verse although I would vary somewhat. But, the gyrations of going through the versions and comparing it to the Greek text and discussing it with someone who also knows translation principles, helped my spirit today. Now I am satisfied that the verse is really a response to Jews who were worried that John was not getting a fair shake. It had nothing to do with the Holy Spirit. If I add a little bit of historical context to it, then the verse says, "In the 2 years or so between John's appearance and his teaching and my appearance and my teaching, the Kingdom of Heaven has attacked the power structure. So, those people have worked hard at oppressing it in return."

It's not about the Spirit, it's about the teaching of Jesus and power players' reactions to it. That's comforting to know. It rests my spirit. Now I can go refreshed into the work week much more settled. I thank the creator of a restful spirit for the reprieve amidst a turbulent work backdrop.

Oh, I'm not worried

People say what they need to in order to look good for the moment. I remember a man saying to me that he would not forget what I had done for him. Well, it's been about a year and half since I have heard from him. But, I'm not too worried. Not for one second do I think he will remember, but it's just the human condition to say something that sounds "right" for the moment. And it's even more the human condition to say something and never get around to fulfilling what you said you would do. I would be a bit more condemnatory if I wasn't guilty of the same thing myself.

That brings to mind a story with a stinging indictment to it. Jesus was brought a woman caught in adultery. His response was to write in the dirt. As he wrote, the accusers all walked away saying nothing. What did he write? Who knows. Some suggest that he wrote the 10 commandments, one of which is to honor your father and mother, another of which is to not covet your neighbor's wife, and 8 others which no one in the human condition could fulfill. Some say that he wrote what he said earlier in his ministry. You have heard it said not to commit adultery. But I say to you not to lust after a woman for in so doing you commit adultery in your heart. Who could really stone a woman for what a man does all the time, every day as he looks at all the women in the town.

So when I think of this man who had good intentions, I also think of the many times I didn't really follow through with something I have said. It's a humbling experience, really–a bit like masquerading every Halloween in costumes.

Roads a'plenty

Roads are a good object for comparisons to be made to. They have a number of good analogies, but I think the one I'll choose here is that they represent a way to travel. They make a journey a little easier than if you had to travel over rough terrain. And roads are plentiful these days making their use rather routine.

So, I'll choose several of these roads to explore the countryside (figuratively speaking) and see if the roads go somewhere lively or adventuresome. And if the countryside ends up being the type of terrain I like, I'll just stop and enjoy. And because the same road that got me to the spot also can take me away from the spot, I can leave at any time.

It sounds easy and enchanting. I know it's not, but it will help a person leave the state of limbo he may find himself in. And you never know when the road might just lead to the castle of your dreams.

Going nowhere

Limbo is a word that usually means some kind of interim state in which no one knows what direction to go next or a state in which no one formulates any plans to go any direction at all. Many have written about peaks and valleys in life, but there are just as many limbo places in life as there are peaks and valleys. Limbo places are hard for people to be in because they are used to such constant motion in their lives.

Limbo states, however, do allow for some reflection time just because energy is not used in keeping other motion going. And because limbo times are not usually self-imposed, they allow more global thinking to happen about our own spheres and possibilities. In that way, they are somewhat like dream states—a place in which possiblilities are endless and combinations happen without conscious consideration.

Such is my lot lately. But, the rearrangement of possibilities and the combinations not considered before keep me going and hopeful. It allows for my belief to take over that says that I really don't have to be in control of my environment. I never really have been. I just recognize the truth of it now more than ever than lying to myself or being in denial that I am in control. I trust the One in control of the big picture.

To the healer

The tone has been rather depressing tonight. I watched Grey's anatomy tonight. One of the doctors in the show was found at the bottom of a lake. They tried to revive her, but failed.

Oh what memories! The setting—the monitors—the doctors' efforts—the looks of fright and despair—the final blaring of the heart line tone!

So I come to my computer to blog and turn on the stereo. The 1st song up is a song that soothes my soul, has soothed my soul since my son departed this world. Matthew West's This Will Be My Finest Hour played—and spoke in ever gentle strains to my inmost psyche.

The king of contradiction strikes again

You said the last to cross the finish line will win,

And beggars will be millionaires someday,

and humble ones are going to have their say.

Well, all my friends are gone now

and all my money's gone now

And all my pride is gone now

and if what you say is true now

This will be my finest hour.

Everything is opposite down here—

The strong survive and the rest just disappear.

But your philosophy is more unique.

You say I'll be stronger when I'm weak.

This will be my finest hour.

It's 2 AM and sleepless.

I'm wide awake and restless

I don't know what my deal is.

Iv'e never felt so helpless.

I need you more than ever.

No I don't understand it.

I don't think I'll ever comprehend it.

It's so hard to conceive it,

so I guess I'll just believe it

This will be finest hour.

Oh Father!I am so silent in the face of death!

One year

Oh what a difference a year makes. I am reminded of a story I heard from Landon Saunders.

Two men in the medieval ages were in a dungeon talking. When the executioner came to get one of the men because it was his execution day, the man demanded the executioner get the king for him to talk to. When the king came, he told the man that he couldn't imagine anything the prisoner had to say would change his mind, but he allowed the man to speak. The prisoner said, "King, if you will give me one year to live, I will teach your horse to fly. Imagine what you could do with a flying horse." The king was taken aback by the request, laughed and told the man he didn't know how to teach horses to fly. The prisoner told the king that if the king killed him that day, the king would never know. So, the king gave the man a year to teach his horse to fly.

The cell mate of the prisoner watched the scene with disbelief. He couldn't believe his fellow prisoner really told the king that. "You don't know how to teach a horse to fly," he said. The cell mate replied, "I know that. But, who knows. In a year's time the king could die, the horse could die, or I might really teach a horse to fly. But, one thing's for certain. I have one more year to live."

Perilous times we live in. Outrageous solutions we try. One never knows when dire straits come, what opportunity will present itself.

Creating an illusion

The world has much uncertainty in it. However, when we create routines for ourselves, then we create an illusion for ourselves. We think that the routine creates stability, that that stability is desirable and that it offsets or at least minimizes what uncertainties lie ahead.

But, even in a "stable" environment, we could die in the night never to see the next day. We could have a fatal car accident or one that would injure us for life. We could cross the boss and get fired. We could encounter a criminal who would gladly end it all for us. We could not notice the world around us is falling apart and then our children leave or spouse. We could snap and become psychologically instable. We could be tempted to become immoral for a moment, but it would cost us when the information becomes more widely available at any time in our future. Any number of scenarios would fit. Any of those scenarios could happen in a split second. Then where is our stablility? What good would the routine have served us? But we hide behind the routines anyway.

Life is uncertain no matter how we slice it. That's where morality comes into play. It helps us to know how to react or it tells us who to trust if we don't know how to react. Paul put it well in his discussion of morality in his first communication with the group of Christians who met at Corinth, " If there is no resurrection from the dead... we are of all men most to be pitied" (15.19).

A picture-perfect parable

What a great snapshot of life. What one sees first and foremost is the raindrops on the windshield. It's hard to see anything else really. In fact, one tries hard to see through the rain drops even though it is impossible to do so. A closer look at the picture shows that one can see the dash of the inside of the car. That does help create a little perspective to know that the picture was taken from inside the car rather than outside. Noticing the dash also helps to see the foliage on the right side of the picture. Palm leaves make a person recognize how nice the scenery outside must be. But then, there in the middle of the picture, obscure almost to the eye, is what the picture was taken for. It is the centerpiece even though there are so many distractions to seeing it. The cross.

The picture is a great parable, just not in words. Life brings a person quite a lot of rain. It's easy to focus on, for sure. A person definitely realizes (s)he is looking from the inside out as life brings its rain. One barely notices the paradise (s)he lives in. If it weren't for a little reminder now and then, it would be easy to overlook something like palm leaves from one's vantage point. But how central is the cross in one's life? Small but there nonetheless? The brightest object in the center? The last thing to be revealed because of all the distraction? Hardly noticeable?

The cross. In the midst of rain. Seen only from the inside of a different world. Light piercing the darkness. Always. And forever.

Let's scrap working by the clock

Some days don't have enough hours in them even with good planning. Some days seem long and intense. Others days are dedicated to doing what makes a person happy. Some days just move along at their own pace and allow one to be spontaneous.

Of course it's not the days that are long or short, intense or lazy. It's the person who makes those days that way. As the person makes the days, so go the days. That really means the wear and tear of the day is experienced by the person. Time is an arbitrary measurement anyway. So, going through a day should be measured in terms of the wear and tear on a person rather than in hours. That's why a half day should be measured not in terms of a half day, but in terms of what feels like a half day. A wear and tear measurement should be created. People would be fresher and more likeable people if they would work according to their biorhythms, their peak times for alertness, their times of waking and sleeping, their times of tension and anxiety, their times for action and meditation.

A change to this way of thinking will probably not happen in my lifetime. So, I'm stuck working by the clock. Alas. Such is the path on the way to the next life.

Facing the next tornado

The picture is of the edge of a hurricane.

It's not so fun to face an uncertain future when the uncertainty requires you to walk blindly. You don't know if there is an ambush ahead, a green light, or a ride out of town. People build their lives on foundations, then proceed to construct what beauty they can given their circumstances. But, Life so many times sends storms with tornadoes to knock out the beauty you have built. Next thing you know, you're starting to build with your hammer in hand all over again. It allows me to understand the Teacher's words with a little better clarity after a life full of tornadoes.

"Anyone who listens to my teaching and obeys me is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won't collapse, because it is built on rock." (Matthew 7.24-25, NLT)

It's not that the foundation crumbles. It's always intact. It's that the house with its accoutrements are being torn to shreds. But, it is the foundation that counts the most. If it is ever gone, I guess I am in Heaven.

The Tide tube

There's a Tide commercial that features soldiers lined up for inspection by a drill sergeant. One of the soldiers has a stain on his T-shirt. The drill sergeant is all over him with insults. The other soldiers pass a tube of Tide stain remover down the line of soldiers in order to hand the berated soldier the tube. The drill sergeant turns his back on the berated soldier for just about two seconds to look at the other soldiers while he is still dressing down the soldier with the stain. At that second the soldier next to the berated soldier slips the tube of Tide stain remover into his hands. The berated soldier has just enough time to rub the stain out of the T-shirt. When the drill sergeant turns back around he asks the soldier about the stain. The soldier replies, "Sir, what stain, sir?" The drill sergeant looks down and spins 380 degrees on his heels and shouts back, " Oh, what do we have? A dadgum Houdini?"

I love the commercial just because the underdog wins. But, I also know that it is a great "parable" about what God does for every soul while the world looks on, blinks, and looks again at us. Once we get a stain, he hands us the Tide tube so that the world really doesn't know how we Christians can stay nice people, sustain terrible tragedies, bounce back after Life delivers us a black eye, or seek a higher purpose for living. The world does chalk it up to magic in the form of "good inner self talk," or resilience based on how our past has trained us to be.

But the Christian knows better. The Lord's Prayer is a good example of the Tide tube in action.

Our father in heaven, we honor your name... Forgive us what we have done wrong as we have forgiven those who have done wrong to us...

The sun sets on our wrongdoing. The next day's dawn allows us to begin afresh. We're not Houdinis, just forgiven followers of the Son of Man.

I could not disagree more

Sometimes I wonder about the passage in Acts 26 in which Paul was on trial in front of King Agrippa. As he told his story of conversion to Christianity, he mentioned that God had raised Jesus from the dead. At that point, Festus, the governor, shouted out, "Paul, you are insane. You have studied so much that it has made you crazy!"

There is no doubt that Paul was at the top of the educational food chain for his day and time—the equivalent of a PhD. King Agrippa also was an expert in Jewish beliefs and customs although he probably did not practice any part of Judaism. But I hear the refrain in my mind often, "You have studied so much that it has made you crazy!" In part that is due to people thinking that I have left my childhood faith. That means something different to me than to them. I certainly have left my childhood faith. But, I haven't by any stretch of the imagination left my faith. I hope my childhood faith tutored me to accept a more mature faith. Also, in part, I hear the refrain because friends and family caution me not to take my learning too far because it might affect my faith. I hope my learning does affect my faith. It should enhance it beyond what I could otherwise grasp.

I guess I am protesting the "warnings" given to me. I love to read about historical contexts and the milieu of other literature that coexisted with the Bible. I think it does not lead away from the stories in the Bible, but gives it a richer context by which to consciously acknowledge that the Creator reached out to His creation. His creation recorded His encounters with them accurately. Because of that I can project ahead from the times recorded in that book to my era and see much more precisely how the Maker of all has decided to continue with the human race even though He might think His creation has made a total mess of things.

Our age is the same as the ones we read about in the ancient Biblical texts. The names have been changed, and that's about all. Wider reading about ancient literature and customs helps decipher more clearly what the Hebrews might have been doing. Seeing that Job correlates to Sophocles' plays, or plays a little earlier than that, gives me greater appreciation for the beauty of Job. Knowing that Israel kept chronicles of their kings correlates beautifully with what kings from other cultures did. That instills more confidence in the chronicles that come down to us. Knowing the early flood, creation, and lineage stories' correlations with other civilizations' equivalent stories strengthens the fact that a Creator tried so very hard to convince His creation very early on that they should respect Him. Ad infinitum.

So, although Paul was more educated than I, the learning I have received may to others seem as if it has driven me crazy. I could not disagree more!

Just an object

Recently I stepped out of my shell. I thought I wanted something, which I did. My mistake was that I asked the Creator to go before me into this place I wanted to step into. He did not go before me. I have more here to fulfill. I keep thinking my time will come when I have finished all I have been asked to do in this place. That's what I get for thinking. So, even though it wears thin on the trust, I stay—and hope and trust some more. I'm just not ever in charge of the big picture. It sure keeps me humble in the true sense of the word, not the false humility variety. I'm not the maker, but the object being carved.

A stalwart cliff wish

Once, I thought I knew what was right and wrong, black and white. Now I wonder anymore if nearly everything moral is reletive. It seems that good is tainted with evil and evil tainted with good. It seems that if I have something moralistic to say that I actually stand as a hypocrite if I let the thoughts have voice. I understand the human condition well enough to know that people make mistakes and that I am no different.

The ancient Hebrew philosopher who wrote Ecclesiastes knew this 2900 years ago (7:20-22).

There is no one on earth who does what is right all the time and never makes a mistake.
Don't pay attention to everything people say---you may hear your servant insulting you, and you know yourself that you have insulted other people many times.

Truly, there is nothing new under the sun. I know that not everything goes in a society. But, I am only in control of my own actions—and then only inconistently. It drives me insane, except that I know everyone else is in the same condition. I wish I could be a cliff standing out for all to see how consistent I am.

But, I'm not, so I better pick a different analogy. Maybe, a primitive cluttered third world village without much insight into modernization would suffice.

No, not this one

When I was young, I remember thinking what a great mystery the Holy Spirit was. After I had attended college a year, I remember having a long conversation with my dad about what function a spirit might have or what role (s)he would play in religion.

Over the years, of course, the Holy Spirit's function and role has become clearer. But, if I was ever in doubt at this point in my life, I wouldn't be after today. What I saw happens only in movies that are not real.

I was sitting on an interview committee for 6 grueling hours asking questions of those who wanted this particular job. The last two to interview were known to be the strongest candidates. One came in and answered every question just like you would want her to. Every answer was the classic script of the way to get a job. The second came in. The answers were simple. Yet, the answers were penetrating at the same time. The answers were born of passion in the soul for what the job was about. But, they were bare of the classic scripted answers.

Discussion ensued. It appeared that the classic answers had won the day. But there was a spirit present. The issue could not be dropped. What should we as interviewers do with a person of such deep, noticeable, wrenching passion. So, one by one, to the person, the interviewers began telling of encounters they had had with this interviewee. Although not the most articulate, no one could let go of her penetratingly simple answers that represented everything the other one had crafted so well to say with many words. The spirit would not turn loose of the right person of the job until every person clearly had dealt with why the second person should get the job over the first person. It was a 180 degree swing from the way the discussion had begun.

The setting was secular, not religious. But, the wrong person for the job was about to be selected. Someone, somehow, called to the heavens and said, "You've got to intervene." Oh yeah, the right person got the job after people's minds encountered a passionate spirit.

I will ask this interviewee if she believes in God when she is settled into her job. I plan to tell her that intervention happened on her behalf. I'm just the messenger, but I hope the news will touch her life, so that her spirituality is strenthened, and that many can be nurtured by her good and helpful spirit.

Downhill slide

Today the newspaper reported the death of the son of a local minister. At work, the morning meeting took 2 1/2 hours and the intent was to spell the death of the way budget matters are currently operating. This afternoon, the 3 1/2 hour meeting was to spell the death of a particular committee that had been operating as a rather maverick entity. The meeting around lunch was a meeting to repair what had been done earlier in the day while I was attending the morning meeting. Today has been a day of reporting death and doom and despair. Tomorrow's a new day. Maybe it will be one of refreshment.

Asking way too much?

The book of Hosea is astonishing to me. I really don't know what to do with it. In many ways it fits the words of the Great Teacher in answer to the question, "How many times should a person forgive another person?" His answer was 70X7. In Hosea, the analogy is given of a husband having to go get an adulterous wife 3 different times. Most of the book is a tirade of God against the northern kingdom of Israel. It is venomous and talks of how adulterous the chosen people have been against their Maker. However, in 3 sections that aren't really long, God tells how he will take back his chosen people. That's astonishing, and I don't really know what to make of it. Humans don't really work at that level of forgiveness naturally. And, maybe it's a statement just about the Creator and not meant for humans to try to copy. Unless, of course, one couples it with Jesus' words about forgiveness. Then, it's for everybody to do. I'm still pondering the application.

Bipolar noise

Some days are just filled with noise. Some of the noise is good, some bad. I have heard over the last two days much that was good. People were wearing smiles and laughing. People were getting welcome relief. I have also heard over the last two days much ill. People were pensive and doubtful. People were giving in instead of plodding forward. Over the last two days, I too, have been smiling and laughing, but mainly out of courtesy. My mind dictated much anger because of malicioius behavior aimed at those I care about.

Charles Dickens knew well this dual feeling that faces us every day. His book A Tale of Two Cities begins with this opening paragraph:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way.

So, I leave the noise in my mind for the time being. I will sort out the noise that gets left behind because the noise that didn't disappear has a root somewhere that I must deal with.

Iron on iron

Jack struggled all the way through the book with the living habits he had developed. His early philosophy of "Blow it off" worked for him until he had to show up for a paternity test and later when he fell in love with Jan. Then he had to grow up some. But he never grasped what Damon kept telling him—that there was a "big picture" to life. Some people think the big picture is a particular plan of the Creator for his creation or least for those who believe in him. Even at the end, in Jack's posthumous letter, Jack never bought into the Creator plan for his life. Instead, he wanted the big picture to be that a Creator existed and that his life had meant something instead of nothing.

Damon, too, seemed to be confused at times about the role of the Creator. He wrote several letters discussing either the idea of prayer or the idea that a Creator would care for Jack if he would come around to accepting the idea of a Creator. But, even then, Damon did not have well defined ideas.

But, in this arena of Life in which late adolescents are defining their values and trying to place individual values into an overall value system, most people would not fault Jack or Damon. Some people get worried that young people wait too late in life to select certain moral values and they become evangelistic in their behavior, wanting others to accept the values they themselves have selected. But, I think the real beauty of the two young men is that they really learned from each other over time during the days of their topsy-turvy world of late adolescence. Damon needed to loosen up and enjoy life. Jack needed to tighten up and take on basic morality.

When iron sharpens iron, the result is a sharp blade, one that is useful for removing what needs to be removed when cutting. Iron that is not struck against another piece of iron results in a dull blade, one that tries to remove what needs to be removed but it can't or it takes longer or it butchers the job.

Therefore, the book had a happy ending. Jack dies to be sure. But, through the process of sharpening himself against a friend's opposite belief system, he worked out a satisfactory morality before dying. And Damon learned that friends who live life more fully actually enjoy the events life has to offer. So, the old Hebrew proverb still has a universal truth at its heart. As iron sharpens iron, so one friend affects another. So-o-o true!

The development of ethics

The book is really about the development of ethical awareness. At the beginning, Jack and Damon date every skirt that walks. They switch dates, they make up their own rules as to how to treat dates, they banter with each other in a denigrating way, yet still remain friends. When they put themselves in a different setting from high school, they act the same way because there was no reason to change. But, in college there was no protection. They did not go home to their parent's house at night. They lived outside their familiar bubbles and found that others had rules that had to be observed. Sherry learns these ethical rules and has a reaction against Jack and fiercely takes him to task for his previous behavior.

When Jack contracted AIDS, he went into denial, but came out of it once he understood about violating some ethical rules that lead to "cleaner" living. He still did not learn his lesson, though, as was evidenced by his attitude toward Joni. And leading Jan on even after learning of his disease was unconscionable. Damon reasoned with him and finally experienced breakthrough because Jack opened up to Jan.

Damon seemed to have a better sense about ethics. How did he get his? Why did he stick to his ethics in a high school environment that was not conducive to maintaining the ethics Damon had developed? How did Jack develop a conscience after all? Can someone influence another to have different ethics, or is experience the only teacher?

Stuck in that everliving present

Teenagers can't seem to help themselves. They have blinders when it comes to seeing the future of themselves. Life is simple in some regards. If a person puts in nothing into Life, (s)he gets nothing in return. There is more than a single moment in the present along Life's time continuum. What a person sows, a person reaps.

As one breaks into adulthood, this realization becomes stronger. But, it's usually an ex post facto realization for most teens. That means that living in the moment carries with it some of the consequences of actions taken into a future moment. Jack had a severe case of living blind. Damon seems to have been a little better, but it was based on his faith rather than his experience or good teaching in public schools. Shaughnessy's and blondes become such a great symbol for teens who cannot think past the old motto, "If it feels good, do it." There's a lesson learned from the rocks of nature. Even though time is enduring, what happens today affects the rock's future. A rock is a mountain today, but with erosion over time, a rock becomes merely a shrunken chunk on a plain that any human can raise and look at.

Does it really take a top 10 academic geek to understand one of Life's simplest principles? Getting stuck in the moment should be the behavior of a child, not a late adolescent. Damon, try as he might, could never lead Jack into a realization that a different existence from Shaughnessy's and blondes could be experienced. I guess teens are really so egocentric that they cannot get past their immature selves. So be it. Amor omnia vincit leads down a path of one night stands, literally and figuratively. So be it.

Typical teenage life

The book As Iron Sharpens Iron is a book about the development of ethical behavior. It pits two opposite characters in terms of morality against each other in some instances and for each other in other instances. Typically, later adolescence is characterized by the start of the extremely egocentric phase in a person's life. The college years are the center of the phase. But, in high school the youth in his or her late teens begins seeing that life is not merely lived by all human beings the way that mom and dad has said that life should be lived.

Jack and Damon are polar opposites in their views about sexuality. They are also competitive. They also believe in partaking of what life has to offer a teenager. Prom, basketball, dating, writing notes in class, making comments about teachers and coaches are all a part of the typical landscape surrounding the high school experience.

Another part of the experience of high school is the way Jack and Damon try to maintain their relationship. It's a back and forth style, an up and down experience, a hot and cold way of reacting to the other. Late adolescence is also characterized by that type of relationship maintenance. Due to lack of experience in social interaction, later-year teens experiment with selfishness and caring, giving and withholding, controling and succumbing. It's a roller-coaster approach even though teenagers are too close to their experimentation to see that they are experimenting with relationships.

In the book, switching dates and trying to relate to great number of young ladies are activities that represent this very typical stage in life. Fortunately, youth mature past this stage. As obnoxious a stage as this might be to adults, missing it seems to retard a young adult when relating to people in the workplace in the mid-twenties.

A clue to people's intentions

Some languages use tone to distinguish meanings of words while others use tone to add to the semantic domain of a word. I used to have to deal with someone who would drink to get drunk. Always, the tone of voice would get louder and the denials that any loudness was happening accompanied any commentary that this was the truth. Loud tones are obnoxious to the sensibilities, but they do show where someone is placing the bulk of their intentions with a statement.



It works somewhat like people who would like to project an image of themselves through added accoutrements to their clothing. In the picture above, the wings and the halo make all the difference. Without them, the picture would convey a whole other idea.

It's no different with words and tone. Placement of tone arranges one's idea of what has just been said. For example, I don't need any of your advice can have several meanings. Watch the change in italicized words for a shift in the meaning.

I don't need any of your advice.
I don't need any of your advice.
I don't need any of your advice.
I don't need any of your advice.

All of the above tonal changes show where the emphasis is. So whenever, two people speak, it is always important to note the tonal nature of a statement. The person speaking will probably deny whatever tonal qualities one may point out to him or her. But, the listener will always know where speaker stands.

Tone placement is only a part of the prosody of a language. But, it is an important part of a language because tone carries meaning in addition to the meanings of the words used. It hints at intentions, which people will and can lie about frequently. A person has to stay on his toes sometimes to remember to listen to the prosody of the language being used. But it's worth the extra alertness. He will always be aware of others' intentions and act accordingly.

He's waiting on us

As people look at their lives, they supposedly have the capacity to reflect on their accomplishments and on their failures. The longer they live, perhaps it gets harder. The failures are many times bigger than they like. They seem to outweigh, or at least offset, the accomplishments. What was an accomplishment at age 30 is mere child's play at age 50. I guess it gets down to the point of whether people can look at themselves in the mirror or not.

That's where rationalization steps in. People can also put out of their minds this reflective capacity. They go on with their lives in a "rum dumb" manner. Nothing changes. I think that's why in Revelation, when the Christians were looking to God for a preemptive military-style strike to wipe out the Romans who were persecuting them so severely, God instead answered,

Whoever is evil must go on doing evil, and whoever is filthy must go on being filthy; whoever is good must go on doing good, and whoever is holy must go on being holy (22.11).

Wake-up calls happen to people who want to reflect. The rest of the people just can live their "rum dumb, hum-drum" lives. That's the way I feel about it, too. I guess the wish to God this evening is for more people to desire the will to reflect—look in the mirror and realize the consequences of their actions no matter how dire they may be. God can do something once that happens.

Rays for shadows

Watching the darkness of the night fade into the hints of light at dawn is something special to behold. I guess if one lives long enough, it's like that with spirituality. One slowly grows over the course of the years.

The darkness of ignorance gradually dissipates as the light of wisdom grows ever stronger.

And what is revealed by the light is beautiful compared to what is masked by shadows and blackness. Night is the symbol of what hides evil and wrong. Day is the symbol of what is good and right. So, I cheer those who live with the goal of shedding darkness and allowing rays of delightful sunlight to engulf their spiritual journeys.

A walk in the park

Much of reaching any goal is to take one step at a time. Putting one foot in front of the other is not hard, it's just slower than what people want to do when they need to climb out of a hole. Patience is required. I should know this because every morning I walk. I get through with my 1.2 mile walk by putting one foot in front of the other—everyday. So, the image of a walk through life is probably the best one. From the last valley to the next mountain top is simply made by taking one step, then another, even if one has to rest along the way. The next mountain top is still reached. The last valley was a lot farther from the mountain top than this one, so this one should be a breeze. The next step starts tomorrow at 6:30 AM. I'll be there.

Whatever

Times get rough once in a while. Times seem good once in a while. Then, there's the mixed bag—the good with the bad. Maybe life follows the thermodynamic rule: for every action there is an opposite and equal reaction. Whatever.

It's hard to wax philosophical when chips are down. But, I guess the Maker can reverse chips when it is due time. I wish I could determine the due time. That's not the case, however. In the meantime, life goes on. Maybe not in the same fashion as before, but in some fashion nonetheless. Whatever.

Inside every dark cloud is a silver lining. A crock, of course, but it encourages people just the same. Then there's the story of the Chinese farmer whose son fell off of a horse. People said that's bad. But, as a result the son did not have to go to war because of his broken leg. People said that's good. But, the son's leg was not set right, so it became malformed. Now that was bad, except that he contracted a disease in the leg that doctors had to heal and refracture and reset the leg as a result. That was good. But not so... ad infinitum. That story is more like the roller coaster of life, but fictitious and a crock nonetheless. Whatever.

I hate the twisting turns of life. A country-western song a few years back had the title, Life is like a river. I hate not being able to see around the bends ahead. It wears a person out and otherwise keeps one from enjoying life. Whatever.

Stepping over lines all around

I was in a professional development session today. Out of about 50 people attending, I was one of 3 males. The presenter was female. She was supposed to have been presenting ideas on how to be an academic coach when helping with teachers in need of assistance. I was taken back at what was said at a professional development. It just goes to show what happens when people are not truly educated as to what information they are holding in their hands.

The female presenter first stereotyped males as wanting to give advice when asked a question. I have heard this said before by people outside the counseling profession, but scholars in the communication field know that relying on context rules out stereotyping. So, if a professional counselor or communication scholar were to make the same statement, it would not be generalized information, but specific information to a client or scholarly audience. But, I kept listening instead of tuning out immediately on the stereotyping comment.

Then, the presenter wanted to go into embedding phrases in statements that change how people perceive what is being said. It was pure manipulation doctrine. While it is true that how something is said can make a difference, rerouting a person's thinking to a reduced list of phrases to say a different way misses the point. Then, unbelievably, she crossed the line. She started saying how embedding certain phrasing was getting her husband to act a certain way and that sometimes her husband didn't respond to her pet embedded phrases. She crossed two lines, actually. She brought something personal into a professional setting. That alone is so-o-o unethical.

But then, she crossed into an area she apparently had very little knowledge of (a little knowledge is a dangerous thing [Alexander Pope]). She went from giving tips for communication in a quasi-counseling session to applying those tips to private and casual, even intimate, conversation. That is over the line, over the top, out of bounds, taboo, and otherwise academically sloppy. What is good for counseling sessions should never be applied to natural, casual conversation. The analyses of natural conversation is the subject of a whole body of scholarly work. She probably doesn't know that. But, too late. I was gone.

I left the session and did not return. At my age I don't have to attend a professional development session presented by someone who doesn't even know the tip of the iceberg about ethics or her subject matter. I guess I could chalk this up to a gender difference. But, that is a whole other matter with a body of literature all its own.

Looking for what fits best

There is no better book than Ecclesiastes to show how conservatism works in the interpretation of ancient philosophical books. The following is the text for chapter 4.1-3 of Ecclesiastes.

Then I looked again at all the injustice that goes on in this world. The oppressed were crying, and no one would help them. No one would help them, because their oppressors had power on their side. I envy those who are dead and gone; they are better off than those who are still alive. But better off than either are those who have never been born, who have never seen the injustice that goes on in this world.

Conservatism requires one to take the surface meaning if at all possible. On the surface of the above passage, one is bound to see the pessimism or futility of living. "A person can't fight city hall" is the underlying message of the passage. In the second part of the passage, the dead and unborn are in better states than the living are. Have humans really stooped to such depths of depression as a group. The book is purported to have been written by a renowned philosopher. The first several verses of chapter 1 point this out. Does that mean that the prevailing philosophy of the time was one of bleakness, darkness, and futility? Even if the people didn't feel the way that the philosopher felt, the book that people of the generation wanted to pass on to posterity was filled with pessimism. That does say something about the people.

But there is another way of looking at the book and passages like the one cited so that it makes more sense that people would be proud to pass down such a book for the next generation. But, to do so, one has to throw the surface value out the window. One has to drop conservatism and take a more liberated approach. One needs to assume that literature was not being born as this philosopher was writing. The Iliad and the Odyssey were being written in a different part of the world about this time. The Indus Valley in India was experiencing some of its enlightenment and keeping records during this period. The Sumerians had recorded all kinds of stories a millenium and a half before Ecclesaistes came to the mind of the philosopher. So, people were fully aware of literary devices used in writing. Figurative language had been extant in languages of all kinds of people. Likely, the people of Israel were no different from their neighbors in understanding the elements of writing.

In every known society, injustices have existed. By bringing up the subject, the philosopher is not saying it is new or even overlooked. He makes a "life goes on statement" at the very least or he makes a broad generalization to denote a problem by stereotyping. Authors still do this in the modern era. It's a way get people to identify with a general set of characteristics so that they will stay interested in the book. He simply wanted people to say, "I have felt like this before" so that they would read what came next.

Another way to look at the passage is to capsulize it as an ancient document that reflected the philosophy of an era. Ideas from the book are bound by a context. Only if the ideas represent the universals of history should they be delivered to a future or applied to a past civilization. So, even if it was true that the philosopher was commenting about the harshness of life for most people, to say that he envied unborn or dead people presupposes that there is no afterlife. After the time of Jesus, the largest religion in the world values the afterlife. Thus, the reading is not to be taken univerally.

Yet a third way to look at the passage is to say that the philosopher is using the literary technique of hyperbole—exaggeration for an effect. He overstates the case so that people will see that the point of the passage is actually the opposite of what is being said. People should not feel so hopeless although circumstances could dictate that they do so. But who really wants to envy the dead or the unborn?

Even at the very end of chapter (vs. 16), the philosopher wants to make a point about leaving an imprint on the world.

There may be no limit to the number of people a king rules; when he is gone, no one will be grateful for what he has done. It is useless. It is like chasing the wind.

At face value, the passage is still very negative. Who can hope to be more than a mere speck in the sands of time? Give it up. No one is anybody. Percy Shelley said about the same thing in the beautifully written poem of the early 1800s, Ozymandias. If the great people cannot hope to be remembered, why would the ordinary person think he or she could? The second way takes the above cited verse and says that it has limited effect. The Jews in a little later time period came to understand that their way to be remembered was through their children. Their way to leave an imprint on the world was to perpetuate it through their lifestyle which lived on through their children, their children's children, etc. So, the passage is not universal but reflects only beliefs of a certain time period. The third way to understand the passage allows for one to say the philosopher is making an overstatement. He wants everyone to leave an imprint, but he knows that they will have to work hard to do so.

So, conservatism doesn't always work in interpreting ancient books. Sometimes the message of a book is like looking out at a certain terrain and finding features that don't fit the rest of the landscape. A person knows that there is an explanation for the anomaly of pointed rocks in a desert plain, but one has to go to the trouble of finding the explanation. Tolerance is the watchword I am trying to point to. Interpretation matters because it drives one's belief system. But, allowing for various supported conclusions takes maturity, education, or both.