In my last post, I made the comment that I've never felt that I fit into this world. In response, a friend of mine sent me a quote from the book Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis:
Most of us find it very difficult to want "Heaven" at all- except in so far as "Heaven" means meeting again our friends who have died. One reason for this difficulty is that we have not been trained: our whole education tends to fix our minds on this world. Another reason is that when the real want for Heaven is present in us, we do not recognise it Most people, if they had really learned to look into their own hearts, would know that they do want, and want acutely, something that cannot be had in this world. There are all sorts of things in this world that offer to give it to you, but they never quite keep their promise. The longings which arise in us when we first fall in love, or first think of some foreign country, or first take up some subject that excites us, are longings which no marriage, no travel, no learning, can really satisfy. I am not now speaking of what would be ordinarily called unsuccessful marriages, or holidays, or learned careers. I am speaking of the best possible ones. There was something we grasped at, in that first moment of longing, which just fades away in the reality. I think everyone knows what I mean. The wife may be a good wife, and the hotels and scenery may have been excellent, and chemistry may be a very interesting job: but something has evaded us. Now there are two wrong ways of dealing with this fact, and one right one.
(1) The Fool's Way.- He puts the blame on the things themselves. He goes on all his life thinking that if only he tried another woman, or went for a more expensive holiday, or whatever it is, then, this time, he really would catch the mysterious something we are all after. Most of the bored, discontented, rich people in the world are of this type. They spend their whole lives trotting from woman to woman (through the divorce courts), from
continent to continent, from hobby to hobby, always thinking that the latest is "the Real Thing" at last, and always disappointed.
(2) The Way of the Disillusioned "Sensible Man."- He soon decides that the whole thing was moonshine. "Of course," he says, "one feels like that when one's young. But by the time you get to my age you've given up chasing the rainbow's end." And so he settles down and learns not to expect too much and represses the part of himself which used, as he would say, "to cry for the moon." This is, of course, a much better way than the first, and makes a man much happier, and less of a nuisance to society. It tends to make him a prig (he is apt to be rather superior towards what he calls "adolescents"), but, on the whole, he rubs along fairly comfortably. It would be the best line we could take if man did not live for ever. But supposing infinite happiness really is there, waiting for us? Supposing one really can reach the rainbow's end? In that case it would be a pity to find out too late (a moment after death) that by our supposed "common sense" we had stifled in ourselves the faculty of enjoying it.
(3) The Christian Way.- The Christian says, "Creatures are not born with desires unless satisfaction for those desires exists. A baby feels hunger well, there is such a thing as food. A duckling wants to swim: well, there is such a thing as water. Men feel sexual desire: well, there is such a thing as sex. If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and to help others to do the same."
She commented that "I just think I feel like I don't belong because I DON'T. I don't know if this is a comforting thought to you or not, but I really think this life is so temporary and vaporous, and really sub-par compared to the world we experienced before and after this life." I would tend to agree. When I was listening to The Purpose-Driven Life awhile ago, the author said that God doesn't want us to get too attached to this world since it's not our real home. He made the analogy to an ambassador in a foreign land. So perhaps none of us fit into this world and I've just come to that realization fairly early in life. Hard to say.
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3 comments:
I tend to disagree with C.S. Lewis. He was a very intelligent man, but he spends a whole lot of time and energy justifying his Christianity. I guess that's good for him, since it gave him some kind of purpose (my mother keeps giving me books by C.S. Lewis, hoping that he'll convince me to turn back into the religious boy I used to be). The thing that concerns me the most is this statement:
But supposing infinite happiness really is there, waiting for us? Supposing one really can reach the rainbow's end? In that case it would be a pity to find out too late (a moment after death) that by our supposed "common sense" we had stifled in ourselves the faculty of enjoying it.
Is that what Christianity is? Believing because something might be true? Smart man's gamble? Is that how we get an intelligent, satisfied "sensible man" to believe that the joys of this life are mediocre and somehow meaningless? It's easy to create a Church of Dissatisfaction...I never was an Olympic Athlete, and I wasn't a Nobel Prize Winner, and I can't sustain the feeling of being madly in love with my wife. Consider this: there is no such thing as joy without sorrow, of pleasure without pain. You have to have context, or else the joy is meaningless. Wouldn't a man confronted with "eternal bliss" start to get bored with it? I'm sure C.S. Lewis could logic his way out of that one, too, by saying that the eternal bliss would just keep getting better and better, forever, amen. Just another conundrum. Of course, if you're talking about a thought construct, it's easy to "explain" things away.
I can't say that I have everything I've ever wanted, but I love my life, even the crappy parts. Contrary to C.S. Lewis, I don't think that just because I want something doesn't mean I'm meant to have it. I'm sure your average doggie wants a ham sandwich each day, but that doesn't meant that they are meant to get it, not even in doggie afterlife (where I'm sure the ham sandwiches are heavenly). I "want" my boss to get hit by a truck. Did God put that in there? Maybe we can blame that on Satan, or bad parenting...too easy.
I just don't understand why we should not be satisfied with our lives as they are, and how we are somehow "wrong" to think that way. It's not fair. I don't begrudge anyone their beliefs until they tell me that my life is being led in error. At least I don't try to convince my wife to quit praying, or attempt to stop my mom from going to church.
Eh, just my two cents. Maybe four cents.
Party on, man.
At the end of your comment, it's interesting that you should say "I don't begrudge anyone their beliefs until they tell me that my life is being led in error." That has always been one of my concerns with organized religion. This is all very personal stuff and I don't think there's a one-size-fits-all answer to these questions. So even if I find something that works for me, I might feel compelled to share it with someone else but there shouldn't be an expectation that it's the one and only truth or that the other person is somehow "wrong" if they don't accept it. In this particular dimension of our lives, I think there's a little too much judging and not enough listening and supporting.
Received via email from a friend.
Your comment made me think about a comment I read on the poetry workshop site I routinely visit. Let's see if I can dig it up...
"What is attractive about certain religious thinkers like Buddha or Lao Tzu (Taosim) or Pantanjali (yoga) is that they do not claim absolute authority and exclusivity of truth."
Of course, organized Buddhism and Taoism suffer from similar problems as organized Christianity, but I do think that tolerance is a good thing. I used to be really intolerant about religion, but I've definitely softened as time has passed. I don't like rationalization of religion, or anthropomorphisms such as statement from the guy who wrote The Purpose Driven Life who said God doesn't want us to get too attached to this world since it's not our real home....to me, there is a mystery to spirituality and belief and the nature of God that belies logic--it NEEDS to, in my opinion. Folks that try to force religious belief into a logical frame end up shoehorning themselves into "the only right answer" (as some logicians are wont to do). Reminds me of a philosophy class I was in where one of my fellow students got in front of the class and "proved" the existence of God by reiterating St. Thomas Aquinas's proof of God's existence, then telling anyone who disagreed that they were morons. What's the point of that? Course, the guy who got up in class was a good friend of mine and he and I have since had some real knock-down drag-out arguments about religion, etc. He's in school to be a catholic priest now.
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