(For those who have read my blog before, I am announcing that The Las Cruces Bulletin has agreed to publish my work as a column about once a month. I was asked to write an introductory column and asked to give it a name. Well, I chose -- Dwelling Places. I could think of no better name for my ramblings, contemplations, and gleanings and whatever is published in the Bulletin I will of course post on this blog by the same name. So the post below is my introductory column to an unsuspecting public. Wish me well. -- dtb)
In the Cecil B. DeMille classic, “The Ten Commandments,” the
banished Moses (Charleston Heston), wanders for weeks in the desert. Moses eventually
finds “strength from a fruit-laden palm tree...and life-giving water flowing
from the well of Midian.” In his deep dulcet measured cadence Heston’s Moses
says: “I am a stranger in a strange land. I have no wealth, no skill as a
shepherd, and it is death to give sanctuary to a runaway slave.” A sheik of
Midian, Jethro, assures Moses that he would be safe. Moses tells Jethro: “I will dwell
within this land.” For some reason,
those simple lines hit me like a ton of adobe bricks.
The word “dwell” burrows deep into me. It calls to mind a laborious deepness, shadowy cisterns and water wells in the desert. A well is a place where a simple water bucket dwells deep in the shadows, immersed empty -- and pulled out full -- for refreshment. Dwelling places are the ever morphing organic-like contexts within which we live, move, and thrive. These are places, figurative and literal, where the complexities and simplicities we experience abound. Our thoughts, words, actions, failures and accomplishments, all mixed together, become panoply of useful experience. They are the bases for our future decisions in our interactions. For example, a simple encounter of a male Jew and a Samaritan woman at a well presents a peaceful coming together of opposites as they both seek the same goal, respite and refreshment. (John 4:1-26)
That is why Dwelling Places is the name of this column. Hopefully, contemplation of a cognitive dimension will show that we are immersed into a world of the “water of each other.” We cannot be separated. We are drenched through and through into the contextual baptized fabric of our being. It can be ignored, or glossed over, but never removed. I challenge you to begin looking beyond the bookends of the conservative vs. liberal polemic.
My stories of real people affected by the “politics” of our time will undoubtedly amuse, anger, and give cause for protest. For instance, my gleanings regarding questions of immigration policy will undoubtedly relate to the biblical question, “who is my neighbor?” in the parable of the Good Samaritan. My challenge to you will be to attempt a comprehensive self-awareness that is not limited by the polemic of republicans, democrats, conservatives, or liberals. Rather, the real challenge is to triangulate our thoughts from a holistic perspective with the implications of the specific actions of the Pharisee, the Levite, or the despised Samaritan or even the man beat and left for dead. (Luke 10:25-37).
I hope to challenge all faith perspectives, including agnostics, and atheists: “Open the second pair of your eyes. They are like heat seeking infrared night vision. They can detect the fulcrums of our conscience, tending us toward clarity of what is “good” and/or “evil”. Hopefully, this contemplation will serve you like Moses’ “fruit laden palm trees,” giving you refreshment.
Our world’s interpersonal, psychological, economic, social and political problems make us numb. In the fast paced social media world, we search for soulful quiet resting places, places to catch a deep breath of peace. Spanish conquistadors once looked for “parajes” or “resting places.” We too must reassess our sense of bearing along life’s journey.
As a Christian and Catholic, I believe in God. Therefore, my thoughts will essentially carry within them glimmers of the essence of that belief system. But don’t let that be a cause to exclude the possible fecundity of ideas that are truly universal and many of which predate Christianity. I pray the ideas will be informative and transformative. The topics will be hopefully contiguous with the conversations echoed since we were once cave “dwellers.”
Like Moses, all are “strangers in a strange land”. We limit the amount of angst and worry in our lives when we make the simple choices as Moses did, “to dwell” or to move on. The rest of it is our engagement with those we encounter as we move toward an unseen horizon. Expect. Expect to be surprised.
The word “dwell” burrows deep into me. It calls to mind a laborious deepness, shadowy cisterns and water wells in the desert. A well is a place where a simple water bucket dwells deep in the shadows, immersed empty -- and pulled out full -- for refreshment. Dwelling places are the ever morphing organic-like contexts within which we live, move, and thrive. These are places, figurative and literal, where the complexities and simplicities we experience abound. Our thoughts, words, actions, failures and accomplishments, all mixed together, become panoply of useful experience. They are the bases for our future decisions in our interactions. For example, a simple encounter of a male Jew and a Samaritan woman at a well presents a peaceful coming together of opposites as they both seek the same goal, respite and refreshment. (John 4:1-26)
That is why Dwelling Places is the name of this column. Hopefully, contemplation of a cognitive dimension will show that we are immersed into a world of the “water of each other.” We cannot be separated. We are drenched through and through into the contextual baptized fabric of our being. It can be ignored, or glossed over, but never removed. I challenge you to begin looking beyond the bookends of the conservative vs. liberal polemic.
My stories of real people affected by the “politics” of our time will undoubtedly amuse, anger, and give cause for protest. For instance, my gleanings regarding questions of immigration policy will undoubtedly relate to the biblical question, “who is my neighbor?” in the parable of the Good Samaritan. My challenge to you will be to attempt a comprehensive self-awareness that is not limited by the polemic of republicans, democrats, conservatives, or liberals. Rather, the real challenge is to triangulate our thoughts from a holistic perspective with the implications of the specific actions of the Pharisee, the Levite, or the despised Samaritan or even the man beat and left for dead. (Luke 10:25-37).
I hope to challenge all faith perspectives, including agnostics, and atheists: “Open the second pair of your eyes. They are like heat seeking infrared night vision. They can detect the fulcrums of our conscience, tending us toward clarity of what is “good” and/or “evil”. Hopefully, this contemplation will serve you like Moses’ “fruit laden palm trees,” giving you refreshment.
Our world’s interpersonal, psychological, economic, social and political problems make us numb. In the fast paced social media world, we search for soulful quiet resting places, places to catch a deep breath of peace. Spanish conquistadors once looked for “parajes” or “resting places.” We too must reassess our sense of bearing along life’s journey.
As a Christian and Catholic, I believe in God. Therefore, my thoughts will essentially carry within them glimmers of the essence of that belief system. But don’t let that be a cause to exclude the possible fecundity of ideas that are truly universal and many of which predate Christianity. I pray the ideas will be informative and transformative. The topics will be hopefully contiguous with the conversations echoed since we were once cave “dwellers.”
Like Moses, all are “strangers in a strange land”. We limit the amount of angst and worry in our lives when we make the simple choices as Moses did, “to dwell” or to move on. The rest of it is our engagement with those we encounter as we move toward an unseen horizon. Expect. Expect to be surprised.
Comments
Post a Comment