As an English major, I've always loved parsing individual words to seek meaning and understanding. The Oxford English Dictionary defines "equanimity" as:
"Evenness of mind or temper; the quality or condition of being undisturbed by elation, depression, or agitating emotion; unruffledness."
This reminds me of the "self-control" aspect of the fruit of the Spirit (from Galatians 5:22-23):
"...the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control;..."
Similarly, self-control and a tamed ego are two of the principles of Buddhism. (For example, Buddhism espouses the benefits of channeling our energy toward positive, life-affirming endeavors. To do this requires a great deal of self-awareness and self-control.)
This idea of equanimity also reminds me of that quote, "Lord, give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
The challenge is to really understand ourselves well enough to know what we can change, what we might want to consider changing, what we probably can't change, and what we definitely can't change. This requires us to be real truth-seekers. One of Jesus Christ's teachings is for us to always seek the truth, to expose the truth, to hold TRUTH in absolute reverence. Again, this is similar to one of the Buddhist principles that delusion (that is, the opposite of truth) is a root of suffering.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Too Few Acts of Mercy
In the movie "Babel" starring Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett, we are bombarded with images of suffering and misery. The Buddha says that suffering is universal, that we all suffer; and that the only way to escape suffering is to free ourselves from desire and material possessions. Most of us, if we are even aware of the cause of our suffering, will struggle with the implications and the results of our desires. And in our material, shallow culture of consumerism, many of us will have to work diligently to resist the seduction of material possessions. A truly "enlightened" state is one in which our desires and our possessions do not own us.
How else might we diminish our suffering? We can help one another by diminishing each other's suffering through tender acts of mercy. One way is to follow Jesus Christ's teachings, one of which is to put others' needs ahead of our own, and show mercy. Within the context of the movie Babel, the lack of mercy is heart-breaking. Ego-centric, selfish, self-absorbed behavior penetrates the film. We are frequently so blind to one another's suffering, that we fail to grasp the common opportunities for showing mercy.
For example, a young American tourist in Morocco randomly gets shot on a tour bus. Her frantic husband directs the tour guide to seek the closest medical care, which unfortunately is in a rural town with very remedial medical care. Over the course of several hours in this town, the other passengers on the tour bus, some of whom have their own health problems, become distraught and threaten to leave the couple stranded. The husband literally says, "...if you leave, I will kill you." He is possessed by his all-consuming mission to ensure that his wife gets the medical care she needs. Understandable, perhaps. But where is his mercy towards a bus full of tourists, some of whom are dealing with their own medical issues? And where is the mercy amongst the other tourists, for a man caring for his critically wounded wife? No mercy evident. Meanwhile, the young woman writhes in agony as a local "doctor" crudely sews up her wound to prevent her from bleeding to death. Shortly after this scene, we finally see an act of mercy. With a keen sense of purpose, a very old woman - acting as a nurse - lights a marijuana pipe for the wife, and gently hands it to her. As the wife takes several drags, we can literally feel her pain subside. This tender act of mercy is one of the few exhibited throughout the movie.
The couple's two young children, back home in San Diego, are under the care of an illegal Mexican immigrant. She loves these children as if they were her own; she has cared for them since their births. They play games of hide-and-seek, and in a highly prophetic muse, she calls out, "...donde esta los ninos...", while the children scatter about the house. In a desperately cruel twist of circumstances (which I won't reveal here), the nanny and the two children end up across the border in Mexico, wandering through the desert on a hot day, without aid and in mortal danger. Finally she decides that she must leave the children in the desert so that she can seek help unimpeded. She stumbles through the desert in frantic but muted desperation, since she physically can't muster the strength to do anything more. When she sees a border patrol car, we are tricked into thinking, "ok, she's saved; they will find the children, and it will all be ok." But no; the border patrolman promptly arrests her and handcuffs her. He flagrantly lacks mercy. She is promptly deported and faces criminal charges. Worse, she is forever separated from the children she loves, as she continues to suffer from a lack of mercy.
What other acts of mercy do you see in "Babel"? I can think of one more, in which a deaf/mute teenage girl in Tokyo attempts to seduce a middle-aged under-cover cop in her apartment; the cop promptly refuses, yet is tender towards her. (The girl's mother committed suicide a year earlier. She is starving to fill an emotional vacuum, which she thinks she can fill by seducing every man she meets. The pathetic nature of these seduction attempts is that casual sex will not fill her emotional vacuum.) The middle-aged cop recognizes the girl's vulnerability, and mercifully does not take advantage of her emotional state. A true act of mercy. But the cop does not emerge unscathed; he promptly heads for the local bar to ease his pain. What hurt him, exactly, is not clear; the girl's pain? or how close he came to giving into temptation?
Acts of mercy, in which we truly put the needs of others ahead of our own, are unfortunately rare. Think about how "Babel" could be remade if it were dominated instead by acts of mercy. Think about our own lives and how we could affect the world if we were to engage in more tender acts of mercy.
How else might we diminish our suffering? We can help one another by diminishing each other's suffering through tender acts of mercy. One way is to follow Jesus Christ's teachings, one of which is to put others' needs ahead of our own, and show mercy. Within the context of the movie Babel, the lack of mercy is heart-breaking. Ego-centric, selfish, self-absorbed behavior penetrates the film. We are frequently so blind to one another's suffering, that we fail to grasp the common opportunities for showing mercy.
For example, a young American tourist in Morocco randomly gets shot on a tour bus. Her frantic husband directs the tour guide to seek the closest medical care, which unfortunately is in a rural town with very remedial medical care. Over the course of several hours in this town, the other passengers on the tour bus, some of whom have their own health problems, become distraught and threaten to leave the couple stranded. The husband literally says, "...if you leave, I will kill you." He is possessed by his all-consuming mission to ensure that his wife gets the medical care she needs. Understandable, perhaps. But where is his mercy towards a bus full of tourists, some of whom are dealing with their own medical issues? And where is the mercy amongst the other tourists, for a man caring for his critically wounded wife? No mercy evident. Meanwhile, the young woman writhes in agony as a local "doctor" crudely sews up her wound to prevent her from bleeding to death. Shortly after this scene, we finally see an act of mercy. With a keen sense of purpose, a very old woman - acting as a nurse - lights a marijuana pipe for the wife, and gently hands it to her. As the wife takes several drags, we can literally feel her pain subside. This tender act of mercy is one of the few exhibited throughout the movie.
The couple's two young children, back home in San Diego, are under the care of an illegal Mexican immigrant. She loves these children as if they were her own; she has cared for them since their births. They play games of hide-and-seek, and in a highly prophetic muse, she calls out, "...donde esta los ninos...", while the children scatter about the house. In a desperately cruel twist of circumstances (which I won't reveal here), the nanny and the two children end up across the border in Mexico, wandering through the desert on a hot day, without aid and in mortal danger. Finally she decides that she must leave the children in the desert so that she can seek help unimpeded. She stumbles through the desert in frantic but muted desperation, since she physically can't muster the strength to do anything more. When she sees a border patrol car, we are tricked into thinking, "ok, she's saved; they will find the children, and it will all be ok." But no; the border patrolman promptly arrests her and handcuffs her. He flagrantly lacks mercy. She is promptly deported and faces criminal charges. Worse, she is forever separated from the children she loves, as she continues to suffer from a lack of mercy.
What other acts of mercy do you see in "Babel"? I can think of one more, in which a deaf/mute teenage girl in Tokyo attempts to seduce a middle-aged under-cover cop in her apartment; the cop promptly refuses, yet is tender towards her. (The girl's mother committed suicide a year earlier. She is starving to fill an emotional vacuum, which she thinks she can fill by seducing every man she meets. The pathetic nature of these seduction attempts is that casual sex will not fill her emotional vacuum.) The middle-aged cop recognizes the girl's vulnerability, and mercifully does not take advantage of her emotional state. A true act of mercy. But the cop does not emerge unscathed; he promptly heads for the local bar to ease his pain. What hurt him, exactly, is not clear; the girl's pain? or how close he came to giving into temptation?
Acts of mercy, in which we truly put the needs of others ahead of our own, are unfortunately rare. Think about how "Babel" could be remade if it were dominated instead by acts of mercy. Think about our own lives and how we could affect the world if we were to engage in more tender acts of mercy.
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