Raised in a good Catholic household, I was always taught that sacrifice meant that you were giving up something you really liked and wanted. During Lent you’re supposed to give up meat as a sign of this style of sacrifice, and you’re also encouraged to find something about yourself to actively change as well, some kind of habit, something you’re very accustomed to living with.
Lately though, I have become aware of a whole other method of sacrifice which I find both more powerful and extraordinarily more difficult. And that is: offering up the worst of yourself, because secretly these are the things which we are most attached to.
I began exploring this line of thought during my fasting last week. Giving up things which I want and need to survive (food), enabled me to begin letting go of the things which I really didn’t need or want in order to survive. During this period, I was also reading the Bible regularly, and it just so happens that the direction I was going was rewarded within that books pages as well. In Psalm 51, there is a passage which particularly resonated with me. Like the other Psalms, this one is a direct supplication to God, asking for mercy, forgiveness, protection, etc:
16 For thou desirest not sacrifice; else would I give it: thou delightest not in burnt offering.
17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.
I remember how I used to read passages from the Bible like this. I used to read them and think: that’s ridiculous that God would want me to be broken. What kind of screwed up God would ask of his followers that we be smashed to bits before we are worthy to receive his mercy.
My understanding of it now though is rather different. I am realizing that you can’t really commit yourself to something until everything else has been stripped away, until all your attachments and leverage points have been forcibly shattered. And you can give up what you love, but this makes you feel heroic: “Oh, I’m so noble because I’ve given up something dear to me.” But how much more noble is it to give up something you hate? To let go of those things that get under your skin, and cut you to the core? Cause I don’t know about anyone else, but the only parts of myself that I rigorously defend are the parts of me which are weakest, most under-developed and most fragile. The parts of me that are good and strong and beautiful are effortlessly given away without my thinking about it or meaning to. The parts of myself that I truly cling to are the parts of myself I’m so ashamed of and hate so much that I don’t want anyone else to know about them, let alone acknowledge them myself. It’s much easier to build a wall around them, and post endless guards and sentries against any one and any thing’s approach.
So how do you give these things up? Do you need to believe in God in order to do it? I don’t think so. But it’s not easy letting these things go. It seems to be a gradual process, and one of the more difficult - unplugging yourself from the energy you derive from endlessly berating yourself over things that ultimately may not matter. A simple exercise I have tried in the past that you might like to try: sit down and write down every little thing you don’t like about yourself. Be forewarned though, that the more honest you are in this exercise, the more grueling it will be, and the closer to the brink of depression it will bring you. Simply continue this list until something breaks. For me, when I did this several years ago, what I ended up realizing ultimately was that these things I supposedly “hated” about myself were the things that ultimately made me who I am, made me unique as an individual. It was a stirring realization, but also a difficult one to get to. In order to soothe your ego, you might like to first make an exhaustive list of the things you like about yourself. Some people may actually find that exercise more difficult, I think - because we hold on so goddamned tight to what we hate. Which of course only makes it stronger.
- END -
ASSOCIATED CONTENT @TMBCHR (Auto-Generated)
- Minds are made to be broken
- Harner on Spiritual Reality
- Shamanic Regalia
- Brrrrrroke Ass
- I’m “fall’n” and I can’t get up
6 Comments
I think it is gradual, too…a person kind of “slides” into a new way of being. I have fasted for more than a day only once–7 days–and what hit me more than anything was all of the attachments, desires and appetites that I have. Even in terms of food cravings…just exploring that is eye-opening.
As far as methods of sacrifice, giving things up, I find substitution of x thought, tendency, etc for something else effective. It is incredibly difficult, takes eternal vigilance until one day–poof! You can start with anything. I found that starting with x will lead you to y which will lead you deeper and deeper, so that you uncover things as you go along…things you might not have been willing to acknowledge or prepared to handle before.
Another thing that strikes me with regards to all of this as well is that SO MUCH of human interaction socially has to do with satisfying our desires. When you start fasting, stop drinking, become celibate, etc, all of a sudden you’re no longer living a “normal” human life. Social interactions can become strange because we’re so habitually accustomed to working together with one another to alleviate these desires.
Not that I think that’s wrong or bad that this is how things are. But I do think there’s something wrong with not realizing that this is the basis of so much of our social interaction…
“I remember how I used to read passages from the Bible like this. I used to read them and think: that’s ridiculous that God would want me to be broken.”
I hate to go with another Sufi reference here, but it’s so apt:
There’s an old saying about the three stages of ‘illumination’,
Lord, use me.
Lord, use me but don’t break me.
Lord, I don’t care if you break me.
(Change gender or plurality of deity to suit, of course!)
My interpretation is that sometimes we *need* to break. If our selves become too rigid, then we can only get past this by shattering… and then ‘pulling ourselves together’ we learn a lot about what actually constitutes our self.
Solve et coagula, as the alchemists say - dissolve and reform.
Inspiring… better than many sermons I’ve heard. Ever thought about the ministry?
There’s a field of science/sociology called ‘Action Science’ championed by a bloke called Argyris. Argyris explored why people’s actions rarely match their intent - free and open dialogue, for example, often degenerates into protectionism and argument. Briefly, he ran tape-recorder sessions where, after some effort, he could persuade people that they /saw the world incorrectly/, that the link between their intent and their action was broken in certain cases. His students would fight this tooth and claw, but eventually submit to this conculsion - at which point they reached a kind of crisis where they could no longer act at all. Argyris theorised that people have an internalised model of the world that allows them to act in it. Once this is cast into doubt, for a time they cannot act. Therefore the mind has a kind of ‘immune system’ that protects the ability to act at all costs - even the cost of acting poorly. Arygris theorised that this immune system can be an obstacle to real learning. ‘The parts of yourself that [you] truly cling to’ - rang a bell with me.
Yes, I have thought about it very deeply!
Wow, that Argyris stuff sounds fascinating. If you have any links and/or book titles, please let me know!
yeah well i can’t even get 5 minutes strung together to read these articles which are getting more and more intense, tip of the hat there, no doubt…
uh… crossing da’ath isn’t just for judeochristians anymore
“pride’ll come before the fall”
-steve taylor
but on a personal note, this ‘endless becoming‘ sort of denies your inertial buddhastate and points towards an external source of enlightenment
i have it on good authority 3 days by the river will do it for what its worth