Contentment Through a Different Lens

There once was a man who had a son. One day, he bought his son a pony. The man said to a Zen master, "Isn't this great!"
The Zen master responded with "We'll see."
A few days later his son was riding the pony, and the pony bucked the boy to the ground, breaking his leg. The father said, "Oh no, what a tragedy!"
The Zen master said, "We'll see."
A few weeks later a war had started with the neighboring village, an army recruiter came by the boy's house, but left because the boy still had a broken leg. Many young men were dying every day in this war, so the father was relieved his son didn't have to fight. He said, "Isn't this fortunate!"
The Zen master said, "We'll see."

This story is a famous one. It has been used to talk people down from despair and remind others to calm down with their excitement. For some, it's a dangerous example of stoicism. To me, it has challenged my thinking on contentment to the core.

Each person will go through significant ups and downs in life. Every follower of Jesus has been Peter on the mount of transfiguration, wanting to stay forever in the intimate presence of the Divine. The problem is, we have all also felt like Jesus on the cross--begging God to reveal Himself in our dark moments and suffering.

What does the story of the boy and the pony mean for the follower of Jesus? Do we practice "managed expectations" to the point we are never excited by nor frustrated about anything? Going through life without emotional response seems like painting without color. God gave us emotion in order to keep life from being milquetoast.

At the same time, there's a beautiful contentment found in the story. Nothing seems too bad or too great for the Zen master. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would fly off the handle at a parking ticket or an overcooked burger.

It's difficult to be content with your situation in life if you view yourself through the lens of facebook. Everyone of my facebook friends seems to be having either the greatest day ever or is severely depressed. No one ever posts "pretty average day" on facebook. Because of this, our human nature and its need for comparison has a field day with facebook statuses. We are either doing much better or much worse than everyone we see, and we forget how phony the entire process of posting on facebook actually is. The secret to contentment is being self-aware, and unchanged by what is happening in anyone else's life.

Always our example, Jesus Christ talked about and modeled perfect contentment in all things. It was His contentment, obedience, and love which held him to a cross for us. He taught us to look at the flowers and birds and to understand God takes care of their every need. Our prayer "give us this day our daily bread" is a statement both of our contentment with only what we need for today, but also our willingness to rely on God's daily provision.

Contentment, as modeled by Christ is the melting away of the self and the immersion of our souls in the daily mercies of a loving, creating, moving Father who will make sure we are OK. It's human nature to look at what others have and wish it was ours. It's human nature to want better things in our lives. It's Christ to live in the knowledge that God didn't reach out to us to make us a sensation, but to make us His. 

Wisdom From a Master

I have many spiritual directors in my life, and many of them are dead. I think it is still necessary and important to read the ancient writings of spiritual masters because the human life hasn't changed nearly as much as we might think. People haven't gotten more in tune with reality even though we have more information and more complicated relationships and more ways to eat frozen yogurt.

Taking the hand of an ancient wisdom is a way to slow your life down a step or two, joining with centuries of other seekers in learning from masters sent to us from the Master. One of these people is a man named Thomas à Kempis. He wrote a book in the 1400's called The Imitation of Christ that will knock you on your tail.

Recently I was thinking about the act of living in solitude in a world full of noise. I'm not sure if a life of complete solitude is the healthiest life for a Christian to live, nor am I sure it achieves the task charged to the follower in Christ's commission to spread the good news of God's redeeming love for every single person. However, solitude and meditation are extremely important for any spiritual life. The monks, and people like Thomas à Kempis knew that and found complete communion with Christ in their solitude. In his writing, I may have found the balance needed to solve my problem. In The Imitation of Christ, Thomas, in a fit of inspiration, describes what he calls "the interior life." A life of solitude is possible even among community. A life of solitude is possible even in a crowd.

Thomas reminds us that the Kingdom of God is within you (Luke 17:21), so turn inward and find God. Learn to despise external things and you'll see the blessings of the Lord and the Kingdom of God come upon you. If we are devoted inwardly, we will see Christ. Thomas wrote, "His visits with the inward man are frequent, His communion sweet and full of consolation, His peace great, and His intimacy wonderful indeed."

Too often we concern ourselves with busyness. Too often the schedule-makers and gate-keepers rob us of our joy. Thomas says, "a man is upset and distracted only in proportion as he engrosses himself in externals." Nothing is too important that it cannot wait for the spiritual person to collect him or herself and maintain a well-ordered union with the Kingdom. Christ told us to live by the Word of God and not to worry about the externals because He will take care of us. Discontent, my old nemesis, again rears its head. You can sum up the past few months in my spiritual journey as a battle for contentment, a struggle for satisfaction in the now, and a wrestling match with wanderlust.

This world cares about deadlines and schedules and reports, not the Kingdom. It's important to be useful and faithful where God has you, but not more important than your inner connection with God. A truly interior man or woman is free from uncontrolled emotions and has the ability to turn immediately to God, rise above the noise, and find peace. Isn't that worth fighting for with all of our hearts, all of our souls, and all of our strength? When you are full of the Kingdom of God, you'll overflow and the "good deeds" we earnestly try to accomplish will be much easier to find. Interior joy can only be found if we tie our affection for the things of the world to a giant rock and throw it into the crystal clear ocean of Grace.

On the Death of My Tomato Plants (chop wood, carry water)

I planted them less than three weeks ago and it looks like they won't make it. It was foolish to try to use an area which receives such little sun to try to grow tomatoes, but it was the only spot available. Now, their leaves which were green when planted are beginning to whither and droop. I couldn't have been more faithful in my watering and care for them, I just wish there was more I could have done.

Gardening is therapeutic, but risky. There's no guarantee of growth in the real world. Picking up tomatoes year-round at the grocery store robs you of the knowledge, the understanding, of how those tomatoes came to be there.

Useless disciplines and rituals are useful. Getting up everyday, watering the garden, and turning the soil is useful to my soul. Do I need these plants to grow? No, I live in America and have access to strawberries and tomatoes whenever I want. Do I need to work the garden? Yes.

Lent is a season of self-denial. We practice deprivation in hopes of a closer relationship with God and a closer understanding of Christ's sacrifice for us. We don't do this because God asked us to--He didn't. Hebrews 7 says the law of works-righteousness is useless for bringing about perfection. With that in mind, it would seem weird to practice "useless" rituals and follow "useless" self-imposed rules in order to get close to a God who set us free from laws and rituals.

You don't buy someone a gift because they asked for it. That's not love. A man doesn't buy a woman a ring because she demands a ring, that's an unhealthy relationship. However, a man will buy a woman a ring because he loves her and because she hasn't asked for it. GK Chesterton says it better:

Men will ask what selfish sort of woman it must have been who ruthlessly exacted tribute in the form of flowers, or what an avaricious creature she can have been to demand solid gold in the form of a ring; just as they ask what cruel kind of God can have demanded sacrifice and self denial. They will have lost the clue to all that lovers have meant by love; and will not understand that it was because the thing was not demanded that it was done.

The Master Himself said those who have been forgiven little love little (Luke 7:47) and I've been forgiven a whole heap. It's the one who knows he can't repay his debt who forever is paying it. These disciplines, including gardening, are roads to enlightenment. The mundane, when done repeatedly, has the mark of God on it.

Before enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment: chop wood, carry water.

This Zen proverb is truth. The mundane tasks are roads to enlightenment for the enlightened. If you see God in every tomato plant, planting them brings enlightenment. If you find God in a walk outside, each step--right then left--brings enlightenment. To live is Christ. Life is in Christ. Look for Him in your morning commute, in your workout, in your meals, and you'll find Him. Eventually, you will sound to your friends like you're singing the old Christmas song, "Do you see what I see?" as you experience the reality which is waiting to be revealed to you, a reality of two worlds collided in one beautiful event. A daily Easter.