Quoting Dylan to Prove a Point.

Oh God said to abraham kill me a son
Abe said man you must be puttin me on
God said no, abe said what
God say you can do what you wanna but
The next time you see me comin you better run
Well abe said where dyou want this killin done
God said out on highway 61

- Bob Dylan, "Highway 61"

But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You're gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody.

- Bob Dylan, "Gotta Serve Somebody"



No one has embodied the words "Rorschach blots" quite like Bob Dylan. We hear a lot of stories of people who say they actually got what Dylan meant about something, only to find out that he was re-inforcing something that they believed. Quotes are like that, so are data, essays, tests, and so much else. One person looks into the heavens and remarks, "There has to be a God," while the person next to first states, "I just can't agree."

This isn't necessarily a bad thing, though whatever your dogmatic stripe, I am sure you can feel it is at times. We have all this evidence. See, it is looking us straight in the eyes. How can you not believe in global warming or the trinity or government cover-ups or the myriad of pieces that make up the whole known as our soul? When we are rebuffed or challenged, we shake our heads, and just say that the other person doesn't get it.

So, are we to abandon reason simply because we cannot prove our reasons to another person? Of course not. For one thing, what are we trying to prove, the reasons or the thing in which we believe? Secondly, there is nothing more humbling and therefore nothing more glorious than the realization that we do not have all the answers to something...especially somebody else's problems. Think of all the things we can't fix. In the end, the thing in which we believe becomes more true precisely because we cannot prove it.

To us this sounds like an horrible predicament, and I admit that it is indeed. But, comfort is not the same as goodness or happiness. We have to come face-to-face with the simple reality that reality is far, far too complex for anybody to figure out completely. This humility is the root of what it really, truly means to be human. When all of our systems and all of our data let us down, we are left face to face with the fact that we believe something and that this "something" is beyond us.

As a Christian I become more and more aware daily that I cannot "win" people to Christ. What could I do? Can I argue my reasons for what I believe? (As if my facts could persuade anyone.) Can I expect people to relate to my stories? (As if their lives and struggles are the same as my own.) Can I browbeat, cajole, threaten, or bribe someone to honestly and truly believe what I believe? (As soon as my back is turned they will follow what they wish to follow.) If my pride were the lie that I clung to, I would surely perish; and my pride is exactly what allows me to think that it is I who will turn people to my way of thinking and my beliefs.

Human beings yearn to trust, but desire to rule. We want to be loved, but how often do we lord it over someone the moment we are let into the other person's heart. Or you can look at how cruelly we rip minerals from the land, and yet feel miserable when the world throws our lives into chaos. Lives and civilizations rise and fall from this simple arithmetic; love, then pride.

And so we write volumes upon volumes as to why some civilization failed while we ignore the precarious state of our own; or perhaps, a little closer to home, we ignore our friends and our families and only take from them what we want when we want it while making up excuses as to why we did what we did. We believe first and reason later. We do this with everything. I know I harp on the point of faith being beyond reason over and over again, but it is true; at least that is what I believe. Though you know, I can't really prove it.

The Grass is Greener

They say the grass is always greener on the other side, and I would be inclined to agree with them if my cursed intellect wouldn't get the better of me all the time. Single people lament their married friends. College kids wondering "now what?" seem to look enviously at their compatriots making a killing or at least a living. I often want a little more faith, or wealth, or at the very least some tip from the fates who seem so unwilling to bless me.

However, when I examine my life I have to admit that I am more blessed than I can even imagine. Air, food, and a very good nation are things to be thankful for; but these things escape my mind all too often. We want more and more, and I often wonder why our appetites are not fulfilled by the gifts that we always have laid at our feet.

I suppose it is because I act like a glutton that I am not thankful. I make deals that if I just have one more thing that I do not have, then I will be happy. When I was younger, allowances and paper-route money came in such a small trickle; but I would save up for some video game or any number of things. I remember the happiness of finally being able to buy that item I desired, and yet I experienced more happiness in fulfilling the goal than in the item I would buy. Now, with such items being so easily bought, I wonder if I have lost the subtle joys that come softly and without fanfare, from patiently waiting.

There is a Yiddish proverb, that says, "God will provide, but only if He would until He does." I feel that way so much of the time. Patience is taught us by being patient. It seems comical that we learn so fully how to do something by doing that thing; but life seems to be built like that while our society seems to recoil at such tough earned knowledge.

I know that there are things I do better than my friends or gifts that my friends look upon as enviously as I look upon theirs. I know the deep sadness of the void that visits my heart, but I also know there are worse things than not getting what one wants.

In the story "The Monkey's Paw," a family is granted wishes by a sacred relic. However, while they get their heart's desire, they do not get it the way they expect. They wish for money, and the parents only son is killed at work, allowing them to collect a check for the sum. How often do we look back on our lives and feel glad that our dream wasn't granted us? If you are anybody like me, you spend a lot less time thinking about how glad you are for plans of yours that fell through, than you do dreaming about about the green grass in someone else's lawn.