“A big, tough samurai once went to see a little monk.
“Monk!”
He barked, in a voice accustomed to instant obedience.
“Teach me about heaven and hell!”
The monk looked up at the mighty warrior and replied with utter disdain,
“Teach you about heaven and hell? I couldn’t teach you about anything. You’re dumb. You’re dirty. You’re a disgrace, an embarrassment to the samurai class. Get out of my sight. I can’t stand you.”
The samurai got furious. He shook, red in the face, speechless with rage. He pulled out his sword, and prepared to slay the monk.
Looking straight into the samurai’s eyes, the monk said softly,
“That’s hell.”
The samurai froze, realizing the compassion of the monk who had risked his life to show him hell! He put down his sword and fell to his knees, filled with gratitude.
The monk said softly,
“And that’s heaven.”
Excerpted from Conscious Business: How to Build Value Through Values.”
(The preceding quote is from the site http://www.onbeing.org/blog/the-little-monk-and-the-samurai-a-zen-parable/5496, accessed 10-31-2016.)
Of course, the truth is that we are not what we do or feel at any given moment. And the truth is that we are what we do or feel at any given moment. We are more than what we do, but we are not less than what we do.
I have been trying a trick suggested by some Buddhist writers. When I am feeling gluttonous, for example, I say, “I am gluttony.” For some reason, this seems to help me not be quite so gluttonous. I’m not sure why.
Of course, I follow up such statements as, “I am gluttony,” with the statement, “I am the awareness of gluttony.”
This approach sometimes has some strangely amusing effects. For example, I was inclined to engage in sexual fantasy, so I promptly said, “I am sexual fantasy.” I then said, “I am awareness of sexual fantasy.”
Then, I felt pride that I had arrested my sexual fantasy in mid-lust, so I said, “I am pride.”
That felt rather foolish, so I said, “I am awareness of pride.”
At this point, I laughed, and forgot to say, “I am laughter.”
In any case, this simple trick seems to be helping me not to yield to evil as much as I usually do.
As is often the case, there is an even deeper truth, I believe: I am ultimately not primarily what I think, or feel, or do. Rather, I am what and who God thinks I am. And I believe that God thinks of me as his deeply flawed, but also deeply loved and forgiven child of his. As helpful as I find this Buddhist koan, I find the doctrine of God’s love and Christ’s sacrificial death even more helpful.
I was reading 1 Chronicles 11:15-19 (//2 Samuel 23:13-17) just now. What degree of loyalty David commanded—or, better, inspired! Three men break through the Philistine garrison, just because David expresses a longing for the water from the well in Bethlehem! No doubt, they had to fight their way in, and then fight their way out. And while they were at the well, one man drew the water, while the other two kept the Philistines at bay.
I can picture the scene: The land crawling with Philistines. They even have a garrison in Bethlehem. Were they hoping that they may catch David trying to enter his hometown? Was Bethlehem strategically important to the Philistines?
In any case, David was remembering . . . remembering when he was a boy . . . remembering coming in from the fields, worn out and thirsty . . . remembering how good the well water tasted after a long, dusty day chasing sheep.
He had thought that he had problems then. Yeah! His dad was demanding. He was always getting into fights with his brothers. (They always won.)
He had thought he had problems then. He had thought . . . . But now, he was between Saul and the Philistines. He was a man on the run. If only he could go back. If only life could be simple again. If only . . . If only . . .
He thought how nice it would be to taste water from the well in Bethlehem. He didn’t realize that he had spoken his thought. He didn’t think anyone was even listening. He didn’t see three of his men quietly make eye contact, and just as quietly nod. They gathered their weapons, tightened their belts and went out into the darkness.
Two of the Philistine guards died before they even realized they were under attack. A few others resisted, calling for help. However, the main body of the garrison were asleep, and when they heard that there was some minor fracas at the gate near the well, they didn’t think much about it. Clearly, there was no major assault from the Israelites. Of course, no one could believe that the Israelites were going to send a raiding party of three men against the Philistine position in Bethlehem.
It was such a stupid thing for the three to do! So stupid! Two of them held the Philistines at bay, while one of them calmly lowered the jug into the well, and just as calmly poured it into their water skin. Then, they fought their way back out. And now, some of the Philistines who had gathered around were laughing. The Israelites had raided, for what? Water! How dumb can you be!
“Are you Israelite dogs running low on water, as well as food?” one of the Philistine soldiers shouted with a sneer.
“No,” shouted one of the three. “Our commander wanted a drink from the well, and we figured that with only a few dozen of you sissies guarding it, it wouldn’t be too difficult. We’ll come for the whole well soon! Have a nice evening!”
And with that, they vanished into the night.
. . .
“What is this?” asked David with a laugh. “You three have been holding out on the wine. You shall be flogged for this!”
“Oh, no, not wine—something much better: water from the well in Bethlehem! Drink and be whole again, beyond confusion!”
David looked at the water jug, which a grimy, bloody hand held out to him. He looked into the faces of the three.
“You could have been killed. It was foolish—brave, but foolish. What were you thinking! Do you think that I can afford to lose men like you?!”
“We were not thinking anything,” said one. “We were obeying your desire.”
And now, there is this Greater Son of David, whom I say I serve. He does not long for a drink from any well, but he does long to give the water of life to those who desperately need it. And who doesn’t need it?
What have I done to break through to give that water to anyone? Less than nothing. My actions have caused some people to doubt that such water even exists. Indeed, I’ve poisoned the well.
No! No amount of human sin can poison this well. The poison itself is neutralized by this lively water.
I’ve been afraid, afraid of the Philistines, afraid of my own self, afraid of my own shadow. I also need this water. This well exists for me, too. And so, old man that I am, sinner that I am, I will gather my weapons, cut through the fear, reach the well, drink and be well, offer this water to others. Along with a few friends, I will bring this water from the One, the Son of David, to the many.
DTEB: THE UNDERCOVER KING
“Enemy-occupied territory—that is what this world is, Christianity is the story of how the rightful king has landed, you might say landed in disguise, and is calling us all to take part in a great campaign of sabotage.” (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity)
Have you ever watched the TV show “Undercover Boss?” I haven’t, but I’ve occasionally watched snippets of it while channel surfing.
The premise is simple and intriguing. An owner or other highly placed corporate person assumes an identity and goes to work in his/her own company, in an entry-level position.
This is not an entirely new approach. Think, for example, of Ulysses posing as an old beggar in his own home.
The story (supposedly true) is told of the king of Jordan who used to disguise himself in order to mingle freely among his subjects. He assumed various disguises, including as cab driver. The purpose? Publicity? To find out what people are really thinking? Fun? I suppose that you could interpret it in a number of ways.
What I find most intriguing is the fact that I believe this has already happened on a grand scale. I believe that the King of the universe has indeed come down to mingle with his subjects.
This matter of God identifying with his subjects very closely was at least hinted at in the Old Testament. “In all their affliction He was afflicted, And the angel of His presence saved them; In His love and in His mercy He redeemed them, And He lifted them and carried them all the days of old” (Isaiah 63:9).
In the case of Jesus Christ, he declared his purpose for becoming an undercover king: “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost” (Luke 19:10). What this seeking and saving cost this undercover king would only become clear on a cloudy day on a hill outside of Jerusalem.
The Gospel of John sets forth, in stark terms, how drastically thorough this undercover operation was. “In the beginning was the Word, . . . and the Word was God. . . . And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:1, 14).
I believe that grace and truth were both poured out at the cross of Christ, the undercover King with a capital “K!” The truth was that we were all sinners, with no way to save ourselves. The grace is the love and compassion of the King. Both grace and truth were poured out in the death of this undercover King who died for all of us, his rebellious subjects.
Undercover bosses don’t usually go quite that far. This One, I believe, did.
“Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.. . . .” (The quote is from Winston Churchill, but note the words “it has been said,” which are in bold print. This seems to indicate that he was quoting an as yet unknown source.)
Some friends and I were talking politics over breakfast. We don’t usually do that. We find that it can compromise both our friendships and our digestion.
After several people had made comments on our two major party candidates there was a lull in the conversation. Of course, I couldn’t allow that!
So, I piped up and said, “I think we’re missing the main point: Our whole way of being governed is wrong.”
Fortunately, we had a fairly new guy in our circle of friends, and he unwisely asked me, “What do you mean?”
Ignoring the rolling eyeballs and raised eyebrows around the table, I continued.
“Our problem is that what we have a representative democracy. What we need is an absolute monarchy.”
Dead silence.
More dead silence.
Finally, someone said, “With you as king, I suppose?”
“No!” I replied with some force. “Most definitely not me!” I felt like a poker player who had already wagered more than he could afford to lose, so I plowed ahead. Go for broke, I said to myself.
“No, we would need a very special kind of person to be king. He would have to have all power and authority. He would also have to be absolutely humble. He would have to really and truly love his subjects, always having their best interests in mind. He would have to know everything. He would also have to live forever, since another king would not be able to do as well.”
“You do have someone in mind, don’t you?” said another friend, with a wry smile.
“Yes—yes I do,” I said.
We finished our breakfast, and left to live in the next best form of government, until our true King returns from the exile we imposed by our sinfulness.
(More about the true King’s first visit in my next blog.)
I just received word this morning that my absolutely final revisions of the PhD thesis had passed muster. I am approved for the PhD!
So, am I happy? Yes! Am I relieved? Yes!
However, . . .
. . . several thoughts come to mind.
DTEB, S.S. (Saved Sinner)
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