Saturday, March 28, 2009

What I've learned lately

What have I learned? That age, wisdom, and friendship aren't necessarily enough to wean a person from the sound of his own voice. They try to teach us this in CPE, or I should say, we try to learn this in CPE. That the progression is something like presence, and wisdom and then guidance - and that "then" should be a good length. I'm still learning this.
At times I ask myself How is it possible to know so many of life's answers? Isn't this the very problem of Job's friends: Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar and Elihu? They're all philosophers. And they demonstrate in their speech that they have no stake in their friend, Job's, life; they have a stake only in their theories, the sound of their voices, echoing wisdom that sounds so right. Their words fit like finely crafted bricks walling a magnificent house.
And this is why these words don't work for Job: he is walled in by them. He is walled behind them like the Character in Poe's Cask of Amaltiado. And his friend's have done it in the best of intentions.
So the question is How do we separate our intentions from what we do? That is How do we do the good we intend, or the best good, we mean to intend? And how do we avoid scuttling real pastoral work under the cloak of intending good? Of course the answers are well known: beginning with James' admonition to be slow to speak and quick to listen.
My wife, Jami, reminded me as well that it's important to ask real questions. She's so much more Socratic than I am: ask questions that allow the other person to express their need.
Certainly Job's friends don't engage him on this level: that he might know and be able to come to his own conclusions - and that he should be allowed to rest in those conclusions.
We all think we know best for each other. It's that log in our eye and the mote in our sister's and brother's eye problem that remains with us.
How do we ask What is this log in my eye? The log in my eye is the projection of my desire onto others: my desire to solve life's conundrums and create a world in conformity to my own speech. The log in my eye is the rehersed bits of wisdom I've cobbled together. Job brings his worries to his friends and receives four logs in essence. How can he carry them? He refuses, which causes his friends to produce more logs. They never say He must have a good reason for refusing to carry our logs.
What if we refused to carry our logs as well? I think what I need to do is develop a muscle of spirit that shuts my mouth when invitations to advice are offered. A muscle that senses the inflation of my best intentions, a sense of when I'm driving into my blind spot.
Isn't that the healing stance I would want to receive from others. Certainly the pastoral goal is not the rehersing of wisdom but the healing of souls. And so the question is What is the place of healing here? - whenever we receive an invitation to promulgate wisdom. That there is speech that heals the world, that heals our friend. It is speech that invites the person asking from their need to stretch out their own hand and to rise up and walk. It is speech that offers an arm to lean on rather than a log to carry.

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