Let's say you shoot an arrow at a target. Given that your aim is reasonably good, you may be very well able to hit said target. But how long is it going to take the arrow to get to the target. Well, Let's say it takes one second to get half of the way there. No problem so far. And then it takes half a second to get half of the remaining way there. And then a quarter of a second to get half of that remaining distance. And then an eighth of a second to get half of the remaining distance after that. And do you know what happens eventually? The arrow never gets to the target. Why not? Because the space is infinitely divisible. That may seem like a strange thing to be talking about, but that's what makes it a paradox, isn't it? Yes, if you shoot an arrow it will get to the target, obviously, but if you subdivide the distances for an eternity, the space between you and the target is infinitely divisible.
It always reminds me of the wildly philosophical ending of 'the incredible shrinking man.' Great movie about a guy who shrinks. You wouldn't think that a movie about a guy who gets smaller would have a whole lot of stuff to say, especially given [spoiler alert] he doesn't get better. He just keeps shrinking. Please to humor me and watch the closing monologue of this film, don't worry, it's only two and a half minutes.
Why am I bringing all this up? Mainly because the Gospel reading was one about coveting, and it included on the cover of the bulleting the most egregious of all possible images for the purposes of discussing the topic, which is an image very much like this one over here:Sorry for the stock photo, but here we are. And this is a great image, because for you and me, average joe Christians, we end up thinking about us as the 99% being kept down by the awful 1% of corporate fat cats, with their private planes, their convertibles, their sliced bread, and goodness knows whatever else. That's the problem over there somewhere, and we, we with our three bedroom homes, our two cars, our two dogs, our three televisions, we're struggling vainly to get by, while the fat cats take it all.
That's the way the story is supposed to go. And we desperately want Jesus to rail against the fat cats, and to call them out for their avarice, and to give them the business while you and I in the pew get to relax, and get comfy that Jesus is coming to put to right on the earth, which usually means in our heads that he is coming to redistribute the resources to make sure we get a bigger piece of the pie.
But hold on there, campers. If Jesus really came to raise the valleys and to bring low the hills, the great levelling, where do you think you'd actually factor into it? My guess? Not as favourably as you might like. I know it's typically the 99% vs the 1%, heck the entire occupy movement was predicated on that, but globally, who is the 1%? Just the fat cats? You wish.
As I said on Sunday, realistically, when you covet, what do you think about? Is it the sports car with a private plane? I doubt it. I'd be much more likely to believe that you covet the same things that I do. If you've got a 1000 square foot house, you probably want a 1200 square foot house. Nothing crazy like a mansion in the hills, but just a little bigger, just a little nicer, just a little newer than the one you've got. It's the same thing with your cars. Odds are none of you lie awake at night and seriously contemplate the purchase of a Ferrari. But you might have a few sleepless nights contemplating the purchase of a 2012 civic to replace your 2006 Focus. Sure, it was great then, but now it's starting to show its age, and who needs that.
But that gnawing hole of your coveting, it doesn't ever go away. It's never satisfied. It's a funny thing about coveting is that it's never full. You can't sort of complete the set, then take in a big deep breath and say 'whew, I made it. I have everything I want.' At some time you've probably wondered why the richest men in the world, the Gates, the Buffets, the whoevers, why they don't just stop one day and say 'that's enough, I have enough money.' Well, why don't you?
The fact is, like Zeno's paradox, there's never an end to your coveting. You want and you want and you want. No matter what you buy, no matter how great it is at first, the luster will wear off eventually. Heck, most of what we buy is only good until you bring it home and unwrap it. And then you sigh, and get on to what you want next. Zeno's paradox. Just when you think you've bought the one thing that'll make you happy, then you are disappointed when you get it home.
Why is this? Because you, like everyone else, has eternity stamped on your hearts. You want things to last forver, you crave it. And more than that, you feel as though that is the way things should be. You want that rest, that satisfaction, that comfort, we all do. It's built into us. Because behind everything else, we crave paradise again.
That's why the target moves so rapidly, that's why we can never keep up, because the weak frail breakable things we buy here are never going to satisfy, because they're not perfect, they're dust, one way or another. They will break down, they will wear out, they will fall apart, eventually. This is what Augustine means when he says that our hearts are restless until they find their rest in God.
So, let's say that you're a Christian and your heart is satisfied in God. Are you 'done?' Will you be satisfied? Well, get ready, because I'm about to blow your minds, because you're never supposed to be done. Not this side of heaven. You are never finished.
Zeno's paradox applies to two more things. First of all, to your sin and shame. You come to church, confess your sins, get forgiven, partake in the body and blood of Christ for your salvation, and then what happens? You gotta come back again. Think of it like Zeno's paradox, in that no matter how completely you are forgiven, you are still a sinner. That part, your sinful nature, your brokenness, that's what is indivisible. Not that you're not totally forgiven in church, which you absolutely are. But think of it like needing kidney dialysis. If you go, you get your blood cleaned, so to speak, but that doesn't mean that your kidneys are fixed. You're healthy, but not repaired. There's still a flaw in you, that is going to require constant care.
But there's another paradox that's good for us to know. Jesus, when someone had dumped a lot of expensive perfume on him, said that we would always have the poor with us. And believe it or not, that's true. No matter how many people you feed, no matter how many people you house or clothe or look after, you will always have the poor with you. Jesus talks about how there are hundreds and thousands of opportunities to do service, not just to the poor, but also to Jesus himself, by looking after those who are disenfranchised, or less fortunate than ourselves. Jesus is clear when he says that when we feed or clothe or visit or minister to any of those, we do it for him too. And that work is never ending.
Don't use the never-ending-Zeno's-paradox nature of that task as an excuse to never start. That's our initial thought, to say 'since there will always be the poor, and we're never going to make a dent in it, we'd better just do nothing.
Okay, but if that's how you approach interminable tasks, how is God supposed to approach you? You continue to be a backslider, you continue to be a mess, you continue to make the same mistakes, commit the same sins, week after week. If that's you, and you expect God to continue to forgive you and continue to work on your paradox, how can you look at an interminable task he's placed before you, and decline to do it? Believe it or not, having the poor with us is a good thing. It means we will always be able to serve God and serve others. It means we will always be able to respond to our salvation with joy, and use our gifts wisely. You're never 'done.' You're never all finished with your work that God has given you to do. The rivers flow to the sea, as says Ecclesiastes, but the sea is not full.
PJ.
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