Faith Venture

I wonder if geese become confused.

It’s northern Illinois in late February. We have warmer days and colder days. The ice on the ponds has melted in spots and remains in spots. Do you wonder what exactly geese see when they are circling above and coming in for a landing at a pond they know well? Have you ever seen them land on the ice and go skidding for several feet?

During my walk, I saw most of the flocks of geese swimming in the open water. There was a couple, though, walking on the water–well, the ice at the other end of the pond. Everyone else was contented. They raised a ruckus with their honking.

Were they confused? Looking for help?

I wondered about our confusion. Perhaps reading something from the Bible or some random spiritual writer. Inevitably we will read something confusing. What is our response?

Do we ignore it and hope it will go away?

Do we think of something we agree with that is similar and just push past that part?

Do we pause? Puzzle over the phrase? Grab our iPhone, go to Safari, search for what other people on the Web have to say?

Perhaps we stop and contemplate for a while. Opening ourselves to God for the spirit to bring us at least a partial enlightenment.

I used to rush through things. I’d try to do many things at once. Then I learned to slow down. Hit the Pause button. Instead of looking for immediate relief from confusion, stopping to think and contemplate.

We can wonder where the water is and honk our fool heads off. Or, we can pause and re-center ourselves and find the open water.

Wisława Szymborska, poet and recipient of the 1996 Nobel Prize in Literature, wrote, “Any knowledge that doesn’t lead to new questions quickly dies out: it fails to maintain the temperature required for sustaining life.”

I’ll admit, I have problems asking questions. On the other hand, I read something, and I wonder about it. Why did the author choose that series of words? What was the point? Wait, doesn’t that remind me of …..?

Too often we read something and stop. We take the words at face value. We don’t try to understand just what the writer was trying to tell us.

Doesn’t this often happen when reading the Bible? Do we assume the tone of the priest reading the Gospel at church? But when we are studying and trying for understanding, it is fair to ask:

Hey Luke, why did you include this story?

John, I don’t understand why you always talk about light and dark?

Paul, why do you use such confusing word plays?

Procrustes, a character in an ancient Greek story, had an obsession with making things fit his prior concept. He had a bed for guests. If a guest was too short to fit the bed exactly, he would have the guest stretched. If the guest were too tall, he’d cut the legs of the guest until he fit the bed.

We do that with concepts. We have an idea about what the Bible should say. Who knows how we ever came up with that notion, but it exists. And then we read the Bible. We try to stretch or chop the words in order to make them fit our preconceived ideas of what they should say.

Beware the Procrustean Bed when reading Scriptural text–or anything, for that matter.