| The Last Word Hot chilies and monkey traps | ||||
Issue #188, July/August 2003
For me, the question all boils down to one word – covetousness. Covetousness is a key biblical concept relating to greed, gain, avarice, lust and generally wanting more than you have. It starts out with Eve’s attraction to the fruit in the Garden of Eden. It’s crystalized in the commandment, “Thou shalt not covet.” Then Jesus rubs it in with His assertion that we could all exist in simplicity like the lilies of the field if we’d only leave ourselves behind. But the great thing about using a King James-era term like covetousness is that I can give it my own definition... something along the lines of “bad stuff that other people do.” And then I can just ignore it. That’s why I decided to leave my study of covetousness to do some light reading in a whole other religious tradition, just for a change of pace. But it seems there’s no escaping covetousness and the consequences of the human condition. The book I chose had tales about Nazrudin, a medieval Sufi Master (and The Door’s favorite semi-legendary Muslim humorist). He sent one of his disciples to buy a bag of chili peppers. (Apparently he was in the Southwest ... of Persia.) The disciple did as requested and brought the bag to Nazrudin, who began to eat the chilies, one after another. Soon his face turned red, his nose started running, his eyes began to water and he was choking. “Sir, why don’t you stop eating these chilies?” his servant asked. Nazrudin replied: “I am waiting for a sweet one.” Waiting for a sweet one! Ha! Those wacky Muslim mystics! Of course, Nazrudin was using a humorous parable to show his disciple the folly of mankind’s incessant search to find fulfillment and satisfaction everywhere but in God. It only brings us pain and sorrow, but we still find ways to justify it, even if the reasons don’t make sense. Consider a similar Sufi tale from the Book of Amu-Daria. You may have heard this one. A monkey saw a cherry through the clear glass of a bottle. Passing his hand through the neck of the bottle, he closed his fist over the cherry, but found he could not withdraw his hand. The hunter who had set the trap came along, and the monkey knew he was caught. “But at least I have the satisfaction of having the cherry in my hand,” the monkey thought. At that moment the hunter gave him a sharp tap on the elbow. The monkey’s hand opened and came out of the bottle and the poor animal was left with nothing but disaster. Every culture has a monkey-trap story, and with good reason. Turns out, we’re closer to the apes than we thought. A study by scientists at Wayne State University School of Medicine shows humans and chimpanzees are 99.4 percent identical in functionally important DNA. The study proposes that both humans and chimpanzees occupy the genus Homo.
By logical inference, then, we must assume at least one of the following: But these stories have a serious point. The Sufi tales arose as a response to the opulent, pleasure-loving Muslim civilization of the ninth century. The Baghdad Caliphate of Haroun al-Rashid, historians report, was more luxurous than even modern oil-rich Saudi shiekdom. As one historian describes it, “Baghdad wallowed in splendor and luxury, unheeding of the morrow,” even as science and scholarship advanced to a point unmatched in Europe for centuries. Everything went well for them, at least until the Mongol hordes reduced Baghdad to a pile of rubble. America, whose troops patrol the present-day, rubble-strewn streets of Baghdad, might take this opportunity to learn a lesson from the region’s history. The main focus of our society has become the mass production of bigger and better monkey traps for the world’s consumers. We’re handing out hot chillies and promising everybody “a sweet one.” This can’t go on forever. But the folly will stop only when we each acknowledge our individual addiction to covetousness, and repent. The Apostle Paul warns about “men of corrupt minds” who suppose that “gain is godliness.” That’s not just some televangelist he’s talking about, it’s you and me. Where once the Caliphs alone could retire to their gardens to recline on air-filled pillows floating on pools of quicksilver, now everyone’s right is to simply drift, numbed by the digital information and entertainment flow provided by the technologies that serve us in unblinking, constant attentiveness. We expect it. We demand it. We are covetous. The Church is complicit in this whole conspiracy. Society will go wherever it wants. But personally, our destiny is being determined every day. Will I go after the shiny, sparkly object that catches my attention? Or worse, will I plan my agenda to improve my ability to obtain shiny, sparkly objects in the future? Will I plan a career, undertake the education, manipulate the relationships, make the deals that will help me obtain... what? What is it that everyone is after? Another Caliph, this one in Spain... (OK, this is the last reference to Caliphs, and that’s final)... claimed that after 55 years of rule, he had obtained only 14 days of happiness. So why don’t we just give it up? The chilies are never gonna get milder, let alone sweet. The answer to our inner longing lies within us. When Christ was tempted to succumb to covetousness and turn stones into bread, he replied, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” Every other attempt to find sustenance will be unsatisfying.
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