Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Life as a Metaphor


You can gain a great degree of insight into how a person approaches life and defines what constitutes “living life” by the predominate metaphors they use regarding life. For example, I quite often hear myself refer to life as a Magical Mystery Tour. For years I never gave it much thought, which is only natural as our most deeply held presuppositions about life are typically held on a subconscious-level … where we never bring them to the light of day to see if they are useful and empowering, or debilitating and disempowering. However, the more I thought about my own metaphor (and this is only one of them), the more I thought it fit with how I wanted to move through life.

Life is both magical and mysterious to me. For me, “magical” is synonymous with numinous. God is in and around all of creation, so that if we could see clearly, everything and everyone shimmers with His presence to various degrees. Life is mysterious in so far as it is not a mathematical sum (or theological formula) to figure out and then apply, but rather a journey (Tour) where we rarely know who or what is going to show up, or why. Sometimes, looking back on it, we can gain understanding but rarely do we know “why” in that moment of experience. And even when we look back and think we have some understanding, our interpretation or translation is sketchy, at best, because we do not have the Mind of God: Me, you, him, her, and it--they are all a mystery.

What made me think about this was overhearing a Christian telling a friend that Life is A Battle. I think this is a favorite metaphor for many conservative and fundamentalist Christians. For these people, life shows up like this: Us v Them, Right v Wrong, Truth v Error, Republicans v Democrats, Conservatives v Liberals, etc. Consequently, as this person approaches life -- relationships, truth-claims, job, church, political/social action, etc. -- it is most always with the mentality of a warrior … a warrior who never takes off his armor, never lays down his arms, and always sleeps with one eye open. Why? "Because if I am not at war I am not truly living: life is a battle, dontchya' know."

If I adopt this metaphor as an overarching understanding of life, what happens is that my home becomes a boot camp, the church is approached as a fortress, and education is where I am given weapons and ammunition with which to defeat the enemy -- who is defined as anyone who is not with me or us, or not apart of “it.”

Now obviously there are battles in life, but can we define life, engage in living our lives, solely in terms of battles? I don’t believe so. In fact, I believe that if we operate from such a life-view our ability to actually live life as God intended will be severely restricted.


Of course, the cool thing about defining Life as a Battle is that I get to feel like I am doing something important. The Cause defines and imbues me with feelings of significance and meaningfulness: my self-worth is equal to that of the worthiness of my Cause. But one of the problems here can be seen when the battle has been won or lost. What do I feel then? Do I not feel empty? Alone? Defeated? Martyred? Useless or listless, now that the battle is over? Well, I guess not, because the first thing I would do, of course, is go find a new battlefront on which to wage war. And if I couldn’t find a battle? I’d start one.

When I become centered in Causes and Wars, I define everyone and everything in terms of the battles I deem mandatory. “My Cause is worthy; yours is a distraction … at best.” I also will have a tendency to think of myself as indispensable to The Cause. I become Atlas or, possibly, The Arbiter of Truth and Righteousness. All of my reality is filled with me, Me, ME … and, of course, My Cause – which of course we all understand is God’s Cause. I can no longer enjoy walking in a park, or listening to my children laughing, or enjoy a glass of wine while watching a beautiful sunset. “Life”—living my life, enjoying the gift of life, reveling in the gifts of creation-- is no longer sufficient for me: there must be a battle.

Another problem for people who choose to be defined by Causes is that they usually look down on the huddled masses that aren’t really doing anything, “not making their life count for something.” Such people are clueless as to how in the world St Paul could say, Mind your own business, lead a quiet life, and work with your hands so as to not stand in need of charity. (I Thess 4:11) “Jeez…what’s up with Paul?”

I wonder if part of the problem here is that these people are looking to justify their existence. It is as if being created and sustained moment by moment by the power of the God Who Is Love, and being gifted with a world full of goodness and beauty were something that had to be paid for, a gift that was not to be humbly accepted, cherished, and stewarded, but had to be earned.

The Night My Dad Become a Hobbit
This past week (February 16) was the 20th anniversary of my dad’s death. Knowing he had less than a week to live, we all spent considerable time sitting around his bed talking and laughing (while weeping) about our lives together. One day while sitting on the edge of his bed I asked him what his thoughts turned to when he was alone at night. He told me that he thought about when he first met mom, various Christmas mornings that stood out in his mind, time with his mom and dad and four brothers … “those sorts of things.” I then asked him if he thought about the thousand or more people he had baptized, the scores of men who had been called into the ministry under his leadership, or the battles for Truth he had waged in the Southern Baptist Convention. “No … not really.” His last thoughts were not about The War or Causes won or lost, but were about the everyday stuff of life: dinners, holidays, weddings, funerals … memories that had been collected over his 61 year journey and were now being affectionately remembered and enjoyed, one more time.

In some ways, my dad’s thought processes were much like those of Tolkien’s Hobbits, who are great role models here. They led simple lives, ate simple meals, loved simple stories, and always had a song or a riddle on their lips. And when they did get caught up in an adventure or a battle, their hearts and minds were always drawn back to the Shire, a good beer, a long smoke and laughing with friends.

wherelings whenlings (daughters of ifbut offspring of hopefear
sons of unless and children of almost)
never shall guess the dimension of
him whose
each
foot likes the
here of this earth
whose both
eyes
love
this now of the sky
— e. e. cummings

Hobbits are men and women whose “foot likes the here of this earth, whose both eyes love the now of the sky.” They aren’t all caught up in guessing where the next battle lies, with "ifbut hopefear" of life being meaningless without an enemy to fight, but simply are enjoying the creation God gave them to enjoy with one another. The “dimension” of such people’s souls, while being seen as diminutive by Important People Fighting Important Battles, is quite often actually far deeper, far more multi-layered, and far more interesting than those souls who are solely given to fighting or preparing to fight enemies both real and imagined.

Copyright, Monte E Wilson, 2008