The prisoner in the cave has been freed. He has been loosed from the chains that have bound him for so long. The pain of freedom now overwhelms his stiff and weak joints. New freedom is painfully slow. But the prisoner is not yet free, he is only just begun the journey. And so it is in Christian freedom. Plato suggests that the prisoner is "reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he's forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and irritated?"
When we are drawn to the Christ life we are often reluctantly dragged by frustration and brokenness. These comrades show no fear as they break the chains that bind us. They recklessly force us to the light which dazzles our senses and creates confusion about what are now being called realities. The truth will set us free, but not until it hurts us, confuses us or simply makes us mad. Brokenness takes us to places that will be steep and rugged. This is the very ascent that brings us to the place of grace and truth. We would faint to make the ascent on our own. We haven't the stomach for it, so brokenness shows the way and often carries us. Do not fear brokenness for it is the means and not the end. The Psalmist sings, "a broken and contrite spirit I will not despise." Brokenness brings us to the end of our self-life, self-love, self-effort, self- righteousness and self- indulgence.
The end of self is the beginning of Christ. For too long I spent my days trying to live for Jesus in my own self generated and self satisfying strength. Today I seek to have Christ live His life through me. I cannot live for Christ. The reality of the cross provides the way for the resurrected Christ to live in me and through me.
" I am crucified with Christ. I do not live anymore and the life I live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me. And I do not set aside the grace of God , for if righteousness could be obtained by the Law, Christ died for nothing." Galatians 2:20-22
Friends, do not fear brokenness. God will not despise you. He will not break you for the sake of seeing you break. The pain and hurt have purpose. God can take the broken pieces of your existence and use them for your benefit. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. I say again, do not be afraid.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Plato's Cave Analogy
Here's a little story by a very big thinker. It is from Plato's most famous book, The Republic. So here is Plato's Analogy in all its glory!
And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: Behold! human beings living in an underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets. (Glaucon) I see. And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them are talking, others silent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave?
True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were able to converse with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?
Very true.
And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?
No question, he replied.
To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
That is certain.
And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive some one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer vision, -what will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them, -- will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?
Far truer.
And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take and take in the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to him?
True, he said.
And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he 's forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.
Not all in a moment, he said.
He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than the sun or the light of the sun by day?
Certainly.
Last of he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper place, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.
He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason about him.
And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them?
Certainly, he would.
And if they were in the habit of conferring honours among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed after, and which were together; and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for such honours and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer,
Better to be the poor servant of a poor master, and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner?
Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner.
Imagine once more, I said, such an one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness?
To be sure, he said.
And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved out of the den, while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable) would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to death.
No question, he said.
This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally, either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.
And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened: Behold! human beings living in an underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets. (Glaucon) I see. And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them are talking, others silent.
You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave?
True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were able to converse with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?
Very true.
And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?
No question, he replied.
To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
That is certain.
And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive some one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer vision, -what will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them, -- will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?
Far truer.
And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take and take in the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to him?
True, he said.
And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he 's forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.
Not all in a moment, he said.
He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than the sun or the light of the sun by day?
Certainly.
Last of he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper place, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.
He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason about him.
And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them?
Certainly, he would.
And if they were in the habit of conferring honours among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed after, and which were together; and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for such honours and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer,
Better to be the poor servant of a poor master, and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner?
Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner.
Imagine once more, I said, such an one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness?
To be sure, he said.
And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved out of the den, while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable) would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to death.
No question, he said.
This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But, whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he who would act rationally, either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Back To The Cave
I recently unearthed a treasure of philosophical truth. How did I manage to miss out on the analogy of Plato’s Cave? I do not know.
I teach a Spiritual Formation class and used Plato’s cave analogy as the intro to the class. I find the analogy to be so incredibly appropriate to basic Christian discipleship.
Several years ago, I found myself as a prisoner in a cave, forced to face the front and be good. I questioned just enough to make myself look good and feel smart, but I was ever fearful that I would cross the line that would make others question me. Just as the prisoners in Plato’s cave were conditioned to only see the flickering shadows cast on the cave wall before them, so I was content to see, identify, and feel strongly about the images paraded before me. The shadows were my reality. I knew nothing different, and shaped my spiritual life according to these images. I became quite savvy in identifying the shadows. I knew them by heart. I gained my sense of acceptance and belonging from being able to expound and exegete the shadows.
But one day, or I should say by a process of many days of struggle, heart-ache, frustration, and despair, I was loosed from the chains, and started my journey. My “ascent to the sun.” The ascent out of the cave was difficult and wrought with perils of its own. I was accompanied by brokenness and suffering. At first brokenness and suffering appear to be antagonistic to my goal. They appeared to be against me. However, they were faithful and steady in the role of leading me to the opening of the cave and all that is beyond the cave. Once in the light of full sun, confusion set in as I began to see things in the light looked strangely familiar, but altogether foreign at the same time. The question, “What is true?” challenged and excited me. It amazed me and scared me. I wanted to know what was ultimately true.
As my eyes were “enlightened” (Ephesians 1: 18-20) I began to see truth as it really is, not merely the flickering shadow of truth. I began to experience the reality itself. That reality was nothing less than Jesus Himself (Colossians 2:17). Slowly I began to see Christ for who He truly is. I began to live, to really live, as if alive for the very first time. Time, truth, and love birthed a new desire deep within me. I began to think of all those friends and family in bondage in the cave. My desire and hope was to go “Back to the cave.”
So, here I am, in a most unusual place: the blogosphere. I am not computer literate, nor do I pretend to be. My hope and prayer for this blog is to return to the cave from whence I came to challenge you with news and reports of real spiritual life that will cause some of you to be free to be all that God in Christ created you to be, and to do all that God in Christ will empower you to do.
For those that think I’m blinded for going outside the cave, please don't kill me.
Kurt
PS: Will post the entire analogy next time.
I teach a Spiritual Formation class and used Plato’s cave analogy as the intro to the class. I find the analogy to be so incredibly appropriate to basic Christian discipleship.
Several years ago, I found myself as a prisoner in a cave, forced to face the front and be good. I questioned just enough to make myself look good and feel smart, but I was ever fearful that I would cross the line that would make others question me. Just as the prisoners in Plato’s cave were conditioned to only see the flickering shadows cast on the cave wall before them, so I was content to see, identify, and feel strongly about the images paraded before me. The shadows were my reality. I knew nothing different, and shaped my spiritual life according to these images. I became quite savvy in identifying the shadows. I knew them by heart. I gained my sense of acceptance and belonging from being able to expound and exegete the shadows.
But one day, or I should say by a process of many days of struggle, heart-ache, frustration, and despair, I was loosed from the chains, and started my journey. My “ascent to the sun.” The ascent out of the cave was difficult and wrought with perils of its own. I was accompanied by brokenness and suffering. At first brokenness and suffering appear to be antagonistic to my goal. They appeared to be against me. However, they were faithful and steady in the role of leading me to the opening of the cave and all that is beyond the cave. Once in the light of full sun, confusion set in as I began to see things in the light looked strangely familiar, but altogether foreign at the same time. The question, “What is true?” challenged and excited me. It amazed me and scared me. I wanted to know what was ultimately true.
As my eyes were “enlightened” (Ephesians 1: 18-20) I began to see truth as it really is, not merely the flickering shadow of truth. I began to experience the reality itself. That reality was nothing less than Jesus Himself (Colossians 2:17). Slowly I began to see Christ for who He truly is. I began to live, to really live, as if alive for the very first time. Time, truth, and love birthed a new desire deep within me. I began to think of all those friends and family in bondage in the cave. My desire and hope was to go “Back to the cave.”
So, here I am, in a most unusual place: the blogosphere. I am not computer literate, nor do I pretend to be. My hope and prayer for this blog is to return to the cave from whence I came to challenge you with news and reports of real spiritual life that will cause some of you to be free to be all that God in Christ created you to be, and to do all that God in Christ will empower you to do.
For those that think I’m blinded for going outside the cave, please don't kill me.
Kurt
PS: Will post the entire analogy next time.
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