The ANSWER!

In Douglas Adam's classic series The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, a group of hyper-intelligent, pan-dimensional philosophers builds a computer that can once and for all deliver to them the ultimate answer to life, the universe, and everything. After ruminating for seven and a half million years, the computer finally gives them the answer.

It turns out the ultimate answer is 42.

Flabbergasted, the philosophers realized they never had a clear idea of what the actual question was. The computer (named Deep Thought) then helps them design another, more powerful computer to figure out what the question is. They call it Earth.

One of the reasons I find this series of books so laugh-out-loud-funny is that they contain a lot of truth. You can find Answers anywhere really. Preachers, gurus, self-help books, politicians, activists, scientists, scholars, and a million other sources all claim to have the Answer. We seem to be hard-wired to want the Answer. We think it will make life easier if we just knew. It's nice to believe there is a clear, unambiguous source of absolute truth, an external standard that elucidates all of life (as well as the universe and everything). Once we have the Answer, other people's opinions no longer matter; we know! Once we have the Answer, hard problems go away, replaced with blind certainty.

Some of us think we actually do know. There are fundamentalists (both religious and secular) who believe they know the Answer, that everyone could know the answer if everyone would just listen to them. Of course, the question arises, which group of fundamentalists truly has the Answer, since they don't all agree?

Answers are funny things. They have a tendency to depend on the questions we are asking, and there are a lot of different potential questions out there, even within the bounds of religion. For example, if your question is, "Why is life so hard and unfair?" your answer might have to do with being part of a special group or a final reckoning in the afterlife, with intangible rewards, in fact. If your question is, "How do I find meaning in my life?" your answer might have to do with social justice or service. If your question is, "What can I know for sure?" your answer might look a lot like atheism. The point is, I wonder if we don't often wind up arguing about answers when maybe we would be better off discussing questions.

So what question are you asking? How does your question affect the Answer you come up with?

Forgiveness

Forgiveness is not an occasional art, it is a permanent attitude.

--Martin Luther

This quote showed up in my inbox a few months ago and got me started thinking about forgiveness. The traditional view of forgiveness is that it is a discrete, chosen response to a specific wrong suffered. Someone insults or injures me; and, instead of getting them back or hating them, I choose to forgive them--an occasional art. So what does it mean for forgiveness to be a permanent attitude? Another quote on forgiveness showed up in my inbox that perhaps sheds some light on this:

Forgiveness is giving up the right to retaliate. Forgiveness is the willingness to have something happen the way it happened. It's not true that you can't forgive something; it's a matter of the will, and you always have the choice. Forgiveness is never dependent on what the other person does or does not do; it is always under our control. Forgiveness is giving up the insistence on being understood.... Jesus forgave those who crucified him. This is a radically new way of thinking. For those who accept and practice this discipline, there is a release of energy and a sense of freedom.--Pixie Koestline Hammond
For Everything There Is a Season

Giving up the right to retaliate, to have things turn out the way I want, to be understood. This is a radical notion indeed. Sure I'll forgive someone; but, deep down, I want them to know that they've done wrong but that I, in my benevolence, have forgiven them. What I really want is what I perceive to be justice. You hurt me, and my gracious (hah!) forgiveness ought to make you feel like the worm you are! After all, things should have turned out better. Don't I deserve that?

Another way to say this might be that forgiveness is not having to be right or in control. Ouch. I like being in control. If I'm in a car, I'd rather be driving. I get a little jittery when I'm in big, noisy crowds; I mean, anything could happen! Small children are a challenge for me for the same reasons. Don't even get me started on being right. Let's just agree that I am; and, if it appears that I'm not, you probably don't understand what I mean. You see my problem.

Perhaps true forgiveness, forgiveness as a continuous attitude, is recognizing that I am not in control and do not have any guarantees about being right, being understood, or getting my way. Instead of responding to wrongs suffered, what if I were to give up feeling wronged and, therefore, suffering?

Right and wrong, sin and punishment, guilt and justification--perhaps Christianity's obsession with these things has clouded my perspective. Obsessed with my own guilt and forgiveness, I make a big deal out of forgiving the guilt of others.

Bon Appetit

I really enjoyed Jim Haynes' essay for NPR's series "This I Believe," Inviting the World To Dinner. He discusses his love of introducing people to people and his belief that we can love each other even if we do not understand each other.

Little House on the Prairie

OK--if you're my wife (or anyone else who harbors strong positive feelings for the Little House on the Prairie TV series), STOP READING NOW!!!!

You have been warned.

For the rest of you, here are "10 Surprising Wholesome Values Discovered in Old Episodes of 'Little House on the Prairie.'"