on miracles and such: the miracle of language

The truth is, the mere fact that I am standing here writing this blog post (I have a "standing" desk, in case you're wondering; just imagine me standing at a bar) is a miracle. My existence is a miracle. Your existence is a miracle. My consciousness is a miracle; the fact that I am able to write this blog post is a miracle. Your consciousness is a miracle; the fact that you are able to read this blog is a miracle.

Language is a miracle.

Christine Kenneally, author of the book "The First word: the Search for the Origins of Language," essentially states that nobody really knows how humans initiated language; it's a complete mystery to this day; she call it science's greatest mystery of modern times.

Actually, I don't think it's mysterious; I think it's a God-given innate ability that all humans have - yes, miraculous. She positioned language as this "virtual world" that we inhabit, that's different than the physical world we inhabit. And it's amazing how just "words" have the power to both wound and comfort so profoundly.

Karen Armstrong, in her biography on the Bible, states it this way:

"Human beings are meaning-seeking creatures. Unless we find some pattern or significance in our lives, we fall very easily into despair. Language plays an important part in our quest. It is not only a vital means of communication, but it helps us to articulate and clarify the incoherent turbulence of our inner world. We use words when we want to make something happen outside ourselves: we give an order or make a request and, one way or another, everything around us changes, however infinitesimally. But when we speak we also get something back: simply putting an idea into words can give it a luster and appeal that it did not have before. Language is mysterious. When a word is spoken, the ethereal is made flesh; speech requires incarnation - respiration, muscle control, tongue and teeth. Language is a complex code, ruled by deep laws that combine to form a coherent system that is imperceptible to the speaker, unless he or she is a trained linguist. But language has an inherent inadequacy. There is always something left unsaid; something that remains inexpressible. Our speech makes us conscious of the transcendence that characterizes human experience."

Brilliant.

wherever you go, there you are

I had the pleasure of watching Sam Mendes's Revolutionary Road this week (well, maybe I shouldn't characterize it as, "the pleasure," as it was actually quite difficult to watch... but I am an incorrigible Winslet fan, so whenever I get the chance to see her render emotion in the way she does, I seize it). If you haven't seen it, I recommend it. Many things about the movie, about the performances, struck me. This post will address only one.

April and Frank, the young married couple at the center of the movie, are suffering through the mundane realities of 1950's American suburbia; Frank is less-than-thrilled with his 9-to-5 job and daily commute, April is suffocated by her role as wife, mom, and housekeeper. April suggests to Frank that they could essentially fix everything (their boredom, their restlessness, their quiet devastation) if they simply uproot themselves and move to Paris. Money? Oh, well, they've got enough savings to last them 6 months... Job? Oh, well, April suggests that Frank should simply quit his job so he can "find himself" and she, why, she can get a job as a secretary in Paris.

Well, who can blame them for conceiving of and nursing this fantasy? The mundane realities of life strike all of us; the challenge becomes, how do we respond to the mundane aspects of the routine nature of modern life? Do we pine for someplace "better"? Do we convince ourselves that we could make everything better, "if only" we could move to someplace better? Or do we embrace the aspects of routine that can offer us comfort? The truth is, "home" is wherever we happen to be living at the time. As John Lennon once said, "Life is what happens while you're making other plans." And, although I don't know who coined this phrase, it is apropos: "Wherever you go, there you are." You can move to a new place, but you cannot do so without bringing your emotional baggage. Frank realized the folly that was the plan; April did not, and it led to her demise.

The Ultimate Commandment for Achieving Inner Peace: the Promise

"The Ten Commandments" - quick, can you rattle them off without even thinking? What meaning do these commandments play in our lives? Let's examine them one by one.

Of course, there is the most obvious one, the "duh!" one that is irrefutable as a moral foundation:

• Don't kill - ok, it seems, on the surface, to be obvious. But, dare I say, what about abortion? Over the past 20 years, ultrasound technology has improved markedly; it has literally changed the debate on abortion. When it's possible to see, in vivid clarity, tiny fingers and toes at 10 weeks in utero, it shakes us to realize that we're dealing with a God-created soul. I can remember, when I was about 10 weeks pregnant, I went to the ER with severe abdominal pain. It turned out to be nothing more than a gall bladder attack, which we treated with pain killers. But it rocked my world to hear the baby's heart beat via the ultrasound machine. 20 years ago, I was pro-choice. Now, having reached middle age, having suffered through many dark nights of the soul, I have come to a massive personal revelation, brought on by my faith, which is that "don't kill" includes abortion. I think it also includes the "death with dignity debate." So while "don't kill" may seem like an obvious moral foundation, I think it's actually quite controversial in terms of beginning- and end-of-life matters.
  

How about the rest of them:

• Don't steal - ok, what exactly qualifies as "stealing"? When you take home a package of post-it notes from the supply cabinet at work, is that "stealing"? What about when you enjoy a few grapes in the produce department at the grocery store? Or how about when you leave a good waiter a measly tip, is this stealing? Commandments challenge us to take a stand and hone our moral compass.
  

• Honor no other Gods; do not have false idols - this one, to me, is actually quite simple; let nothing in your life become more important than your faith in God. This one is the ultimate frame of reference for keeping things in perspective. We tend to pursue endeavors that we believe will grant us fulfillment (careers, family life, hobbies, etc., et al.,); the challenge is to ensure that none of these endeavors supplant our faith by becoming idolatrous. Because nothing else can or will fulfill us; only our faith can do so.
  

• Do not take the Lord's name in vain - you may be inclined to just sum up this commandment as, "don't swear." But I think it's more than that. It's a recognition of the power of language. It's a recognition that we diminish the sacredness of God by speaking casually or irreverently. And, as my now-deceased father-in-law used to say, "people who swear are simply unable to express themselves intelligently."

• Remember the Sabbath and keep it Holy - What is the "Sabbath" and how does one keep it Holy? This depends on your religious tradition. For Orthodox Jews, the Sabbath is the utmost expression of reverence for God and God's laws; they cannot do anything that might be construed as work on Saturdays. For most of the Christian traditions, the notion of the Sabbath is less stringent. In my life, I respect the Sabbath by attempting to attend my church service every Sunday morning, and also by doing something outside in nature every Sunday afternoon (whether it's tending the garden or taking a walk or some such endeavor). To me, respecting nature is a manifestation of respecting the Sabbath.
  

• Honor your parents - Seems simple, right? But how do we actually "honor" our folks? Tensions frequently arise in the complex parent/adult-child relationship. Parents "just want us to be happy," while adult children are desperate to forge their own identities in the world. Can we still honor our folks while blazing a trail that may not align with our parents' vision for us? Certainly; it has to come down to mutual respect.
  
  
• Don't commit adultery - Seems like another no-brainer. Again, this one's also about respect. Respecting our own relationships and those of others. It seems, doesn't it, that trust and respect are common themes in these commandments.
  

• Don't bear false witness against your neighbor - Again, respect. God had it right long before Aretha, "R-E-S-P-E-C-T."
  

The last one, I think, is the most powerful and the least understood. It is the "You shall not covet your neighbor's wife or anything that belongs to your neighbor." The common ethos of this commandment is that it is seriously over-reaching; why would God issue a command that seemingly is designed to control our thoughts/feelings/emotions? How could my thoughts/feelings/emotions be in violation of God's Law? Does "coveting" actually have any behavioral manifestation?

Let's read into it more deeply. Rather than a command, it is actually a promise. By following God's Laws, you hone your moral foundation and practices. You grow spiritually. You deepen your faith. As such, you become content with what you have. You are not stricken with the agony of unfulfilled desire. You are liberated from the conflicts that inevitably arise from thoughts/feelings/emotions that stem from coveting.

It is a promise, not a command.

Fumbling Towards the Top of Maslow's Hierarchy: Faith as a Context for Meaning

Maslow's Hiearchy is a brilliant snap-shot of the human condition. At the bottom of the pyramid, we address our basic human needs such as food on the table and a roof over our heads.








Then, as we progress higher up the pyramid, we start to address the more difficult conundrums of human existence; the "why am I here, what's it all about?" questions. The higher needs are all about "self-actualization," and include aspects such as:

• Embracing the facts and realities of the world rather than denying or avoiding them.
• Feeling a closeness to other people, and generally appreciating life.
• Being spontaneous in ideas and actions.
• Being creative.
• Having discernment and viewing all things in an objective manner.
• Being interested in solving problems; this often includes the problems of others.

For many Americans, and indeed for much of the "1st world," the "bottom row" of our needs are met. Even if tenuous and at risk, we usually have enough to eat, we have a place to live, and access to clean water is not an issue. It occurred to me last night, as I was walking the dog, that so many of us are struggling with the upper rows of the pyramid; the "how to find meaning in a broken world?" questions.

Then I had an epiphany: what if all of us, as we work our way up the pyramid, focus on the various means of helping all those folks just struggling with the bottom row of the pyramid? Inherently, we simultaneously find meaning. This, I believe, is one of the foundational aspects of religion; because most religions instills in us a framework that challenge us to:

• put others' needs ahead of our own
• diminish our egos
• focus on the "common good" rather than our own selfish gain
• do less narcissistic navel-gazing and do more to contemplate our existence with awe and reverence for a higher power

All of these challenges are designed to temper our natural human tendencies of aggression, selfishness, and hostility.

Rabbi David Wolpe, author of a recently-published book called "Why Faith Matters," eloquently renders arguments for faith as a context for meaning. Essentially, he argues that the human condition yearns for something bigger than itself as a path to meaning. Religion has, he posits, provided humanity with a framework for meaning. It provides a framework for exploiting our virtues (loving kindness) and mitigating our vices (selfishness and aggression). Though he doesn't deny that great harm has been done in the name of religion, he deftly refutes the argument that religion is responsible for all violence in the world. Rather, he articulates how it's usually much more complicated than mere "religion" that exhorts violence; that political, national and other social constructs are also at work. He then points out, which I think has great merit, that atheistic societies induced much greater violence and oppression than those with the freedom to practice faith. He cites the 20th century, which was the most violent in recorded history; this violence was rendered by atheistic regimes, by Stalin, Hitler, Pol Pot, to name a few.

Rabbi Wolpe's book affirms one of my core beliefs: that faith matters as a framework for seeking meaning in human existence. My faith journey is fundamental as I try to scale Maslow's Hierarchy.