by Ethan Johnson
October 29, 2007
Well over a year ago, I pondered over an alternative telling of the Jesus myth called The Aquarian Gospel of Jesus the Christ. As per usual, I am in no way claiming that I "believe in" the material, or suggest in any way that this book is factual. I think of this more in terms of say, favorite stories or favorite authors (or both). I prefer Ray Bradbury's writings on what the colonization of Mars might be like rather than Arthur C Clarke's, for example. It is through this lens that these articles should be viewed.
Having said that, I have been reading all sorts of seemingly unrelated material, including 2 different translations of the Tao Te Ching, Sun Tsu's The Art of War, and Machiavelli's The Prince. These books, among other things, have turned my thoughts to a common thread in the Jesus mythos: Humanity's addiction to Earthly desires, and the consequences of that addiction. In any of the above books, the authors are quick to note that their instruction is what it is, take it or leave it, and human nature will prevail in most things. Sun Tsu doesn't advocate war (quite the opposite), but shrugs and advises that if one is to engage in war, these are his "best practices". In this way, Jesus suggests that following "him" (really the Christ Consciousness, which is another semantic minefield) is not going to be easy, nor will very many, if any people follow his lead. But he intends to provide the template for this journey to whoever opts to attempt the journey.
Objectively, what is it that Jesus asks of the common folk? Not worship, not power, not money, not free stuff, not sex. Whenever people talk of "accepting Jesus" or "worshipping Jesus" I tune them out, as this runs counter to the Jesus legend. Refering again to chapter 142 of the AGJC:
31. He answered them and said, I tell you, men, that they who trust in riches cannot trust in God and cannot come into the kingdom of the soul:
32. Yea, it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye than for a man with hoarded wealth to find the way of life. And his disciples said, Who then can find the way? Who can be saved?
33. And Jesus said, The rich may give his gold away; the high may kiss the dust, and God will save.
It amuses me when people seek out the loophole in the eye of the needle metaphor. "Oh, he meant a rock formation called the 'eye of the needle'," they say. No, objectively, consider one's attachment to material goods. As a for-fun exercise, pare away those material goods to the barest essentials. What are the barest essentials? If you were called upon to live on nothing but the bare essentials, would you do so willingly? What if this isn't for a game show, where some glitzy prize waits at the end? Could you spend the rest of your life eating meagerly, wearing donated clothing, having no money, walking everywhere (unless free transport is provided by others), living nomadically, and here's the kicker, exerting all of your effort for the betterment of others? Not one thought of yourself? Jesus asks for little, yet the barriers seem insurmountable.
The above quote is short, but lends itself to much misinterpretation (in my view). Specifically, line 32 ends with "who can be saved?" I take this to mean "who can be turned to the right path?" For example, suppose someone is trying to strike a match against a pool of water. Not only does water not provide the necessary friction to light the match, the water douses it. Someone says, "try striking it against the cement sidewalk, or on a matchbook." In this way, the person is "saved" from the path of most resistance, so to speak.
As I look around and observe not only others but myself, I am struck by the sheer attachment to "things". And yet, the poor are often told that poverty is somehow noble in and of itself. Jesus had nothing, thus is it akin to godliness to have nothing. But what is missing from that equation is what a former teacher of mine called the "desire to be desireless." The poor want, but lack. The rich do not lack, but still want. Where in this condition is contentment? Where in this condition is the choice to maintain one's living standard? This may seem silly in terms of financially comfortable people choosing to be anything less than financially comfortable. But if pressed, would they give away everything? Would the poor gladly accept their condition and say "I have found the path to godliness"? And even then, there's a difference between being "poor" and being completely destitute. Who chooses to be destitute? Who would? Who can?
Knowing myself, I cannot, yet. If ever.
But here is a thought: Many people spend their lives in the pursuit of One More Thing. I have done this, you (yes you) may be doing it right now. There's that promotion at work, the new car, the bigger house, the nicer this, the fancier that, and it never ends, does it? Well, it does when you die, of course. In which case people can fight over your estate and continue the cycle. Rather than pursue that elusive One More Thing, what if you turned it around and strived to make do with One Less Thing? Finding contentment in one's work. Finding contentment in one's living arrangement. Finding contentment in one's mode of transportation. And taking it a step further: One-downsmanship. Trading the SUV for a car. Trading the car for a bicycle. Trading the bicycle for walking.
Can you play at one-downsmanship? Or are you too transfixed on acquiring One More Thing to even consider it?
I don't mean this in a preachy, finger-wagging way. I'm no role model for perfect living. But in contemplating these things, I at least hope to measure the gap between desire and contentment in my own life, and examine what conditions have brought it about. An effect of this process has been a decreasing interest in pursuing the Bigger and Better, and instead thinking about how I/we might have more by having less. <EM>
