A monk named Thich Nhat Hanh once said, "A finger pointing at the moon is not the moon." Takes genius, I know. But ... I think he had something there. The "fingers" are lessons and strategies and tactics we use. The "moon" is the actual goal. Do we substitute strategies for actually doing?
I heard a story once about a group of friends that shared a love of hiking who set off to hike to a distant mountain peak several weeks off. Soon they encountered a chasm they couldn't walk around. So ... with a lot of time and ingenuity and team effort, they built a bridge and walked across. They proceeded with their trek. On their second day they found another. The terrain was different and ready material was different, but, after some effort, they did it again. They continued on. A third chasm came into view and, with their honed skills and teamwork, they built a bridge and crossed. As they arrived at the other side, another group of hikers hailed them. "How did you do that?" So ... the original team set up a bridge-building school for hikers. Quite lucrative. It's the classic "finger pointing at the moon." They showed the way, but got lost in the message and forgot the aim.
We might be guilty of that sometimes. For instance, we are supposed to "make disciples" (Matt 28:19-20). Yes, good, got it. So ... we ... hire missionaries and ... we take a course on sharing the gospel ... and we urge others to do it ... and we invite people to church functions. All good things, except ... we're not making disciples. We're barely preaching the gospel. But we have some pretty good programs, don't we? Just an example. Try it out on "pray" or "love your neighbor" or ... you pick one. We develop fine tools and wonderful intentions, but we seem to bog down at actually accomplishing it. We become ... fingers pointing at the moon rather than actually going there. We're doing the right thing, right? Pointing the way? Well ... no ... not quite.
9 comments:
This is one of the failures of myself that sometimes makes me question if I were ever saved.
I had not heard that monk’s saying before, but it immediately brought to mind the criticisms of the “purpose driven church” model--which supposedly stresses making disciples but ends up promoting a pragmatic, “seeker-sensitive” agenda. (The MacArthur’s book I mentioned the other day, Ashamed of the Gospel: When the Church Becomes Like the World, is all about, in fact.)
As an aside, I did have one thought about the story about the hikers. I assume the point was that they themselves never got to the peak, as they were sidetracked by their bridge-building endeavors. As you said, “They showed the way, but got lost in the message and forgot the aim.” There is some value in the distraction they embraced, though, as they were helping other hikers with a “felt need,” even if they themselves no longer pursued their original goal. (“He who can, does; he who cannot, teaches” comes to mind. Some people really find that they enjoy “teaching” as much [or more] as actually “doing.”) Life sometimes presents unanticipated opportunities, and the newly conceived project unexpectedly brings gratification. I guess the secret is to be sure those diversions are truly worthwhile.
When I first read today’s post title, I assumed it was about the popular saying, “Remember when you point the finger, three fingers point back at you.” Since you have us thinking about thought-provoking sayings from Buddhist monks, I thought I would share this sage observation (albeit not about pointing fingers): “Confucius say that he who runs behind car gets exhausted, but he who runs in front of car gets tired.” Sounds like something The Fonz might say. :-D
DId you hear about the stupid terrorist that tried to blow up a car and burned his lips?
When I was a teacher in the Air Force, they tried that "He who cannot, teaches" line on me. Funny how many who "can" learned it from those who "cannot."
Indeed. A good teacher must not only know what they are talking about but be able to explain it to those who don’t--a double set of skills.
I am immensely impressed that you had a perfectly relevant quip to offer up from what must be an exhaustive repertoire. Truly, I never get tired of using word play as a vehicle for the transmission of a good laugh!
Well played
I do apologize if I steered the comment thread in a silly direction just to drive my point home. (I guess if you give me an inch, I will take a mile!) OK, now my fun ride is over, I promise--until next time! :-D
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