Jesus – Page 2 – Steve Jacobsen, Ed.D

The Parable of the Poisoned Arrow

Several years ago, I was listening to a series of lectures on Buddhism and heard “The Parable of the Poisoned Arrow.” It exists in several versions. Here’s a simple one:

“Suppose a man is struck by a poisoned arrow and the doctor wishes to take out the arrow immediately. Suppose the man does not want the arrow removed until he knows who shot it, his age, his parents, and why he shot it. What would happen? If he were to wait until all these questions have been answered, the man might die first.” The point: “Life is so short. It must not be spent in endless metaphysical speculation that does not bring us any closer to the truth.”

In some versions, the wounded man’s questions include the social class of the archer, his physical appearance, his hometown, what the bow was made of, what bird had supplied the feathers, etc. The questions are endless — but our time is limited.

When we are suffering physical pain, it is reassuring if the doctors can confidently identify and treat it. But sometimes they can’t. Years ago, I had a parishioner whose lungs were thickening and the tissues becoming increasingly stiff. After many tests, the doctors gave it a name: “Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis.” It took me a minute to grasp the meaning of that first word: “Idio-pathic.” There is a pathology going on, but we are “idiots” in terms of knowing exactly why. It’s a disease having no known cause. Not having a definitive name for it made the situation more difficult.

Our predecessors have tried to understand the source of our suffering and came up with many explanations. Maybe it’s karma – the mysterious burden of our ancestor’s behavior in past lives. Maybe it’s divine judgement – God does not let people get away with anything, so if we are suffering, we must have done something wrong. St. Augustine came up with the idea of “Original Sin,” claiming that death and suffering are a result of some act of disobedience in our ancient past.

In our modern age, we can seek the reasons for our emotional pain by exploring our family of origin: when you were a child, you adapted your behavior in response to what was going on in your family, and those behaviors have stuck with you ever since. Sometimes the insights are illuminating and liberating. Working with insightful counselors over the years, I can see how many of my behaviors are explainable based on my family’s dynamics. But I’ve also known families with six children, all of whom turn out very differently. And sometimes knowing the source doesn’t improve our lives at all.

When we are suffering, do we need to know every reason behind our condition? Or is it enough to pull the arrow out as quickly as possible so we can move forward?

I know a woman who suffered from panic attacks. She had seen counselors and talked to friends, but nothing helped. She went to see someone who specialized in anxiety. At the first session, she was surprised that he did not delve very much into her past or her emotions. Instead, he focused on the thought processes she experienced when she began to feel anxious. She came back for more sessions and soon she was experiencing some relief. She was still “wired” as she’d always been, and the causes for that may never be known. But he helped her focus on the runaway train of her thinking patterns and ways to redirect it; the aim was to get the arrow out, rather than knowing why it was there in the first place.

Buddhism does not focus on mystical speculation as to why our suffering is here. It focuses on ways to alleviate it.

In many of the Gospel stories, someone comes to Jesus with a problem. He seems to understand what they need in that moment and offers a shift in their focus. Maybe it’s being assured of divine forgiveness apart from social prejudices and self-doubt. Maybe it’s with a healing touch. Maybe it is by inspiring them to go beyond themselves to love and care for others. There’s no interest in speculation – the focus is redirecting each person in ways they can live their life with grace and freedom in the here and now.

Looking back on my life, I see that many people who have died in peace have given up trying to understand the deep reasons for anything. They just live life as best they can and help others as much as they are able.

The questions about the deeper causes of our suffering can be endless — but our time is limited.

Your Purpose Is More Important Than Your Plan

It seems some people follow a straight, well-planned path in life: they set goals and expectations day after day, year after year — and achieve them. But for most of us, events can disrupt our plans. It could be something affecting only me, or something like COVID that impacts everyone. We can be left with feelings of loss, discouragement and confusion. What can I expect in life? Isn’t there some divine plan that is designed to make me happy? Or was the plan to make me suffer? Or is there no plan at all?

Over the centuries, these are questions that have been pondered and debated by countless people in many spiritual traditions. Today I’m offering my personal perspective by focusing on a fascinating story from the Jesus tradition as exists in the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 5.

As we pick up the story, Jesus has become increasingly popular due, in large part, to his healing power. The day begins when a local leader, Jairus, comes to him and begs him to come to his house and heal his daughter, who is close to dying. Jesus agrees.

On the way, a woman who has been suffering from hemorrhages for 12 years comes up behind him. Her condition makes her “unclean” in the culture of that time, so she can’t seek him out publicly like Jairus. But, she hopes, if she can just sneak up behind him and touch his cloak, she might be healed. She carefully approaches, touches the cloak and immediately senses in her body that she is healed.

At that moment, Jesus also has a visceral, somatic experience – “power had gone forth from him.” Taken by surprise, he turns and asks who touched him. The disciples reply: with so many people close by, how can they know? The woman reluctantly steps forth “in fear and trembling” and confesses. He does not condemn her. Instead, he says “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace…” He then resumes his walk to Jairus’ house, where he takes the little girl by the hand and brings her out of her coma.

The story is rich in implications. As the philosopher Paul Ricœur put it, great spiritual texts (like lasting works of art) have a “surplus of meaning” – more than just one point. For today’s question, I will focus on consciousness and decision making.

Imagine if we can “get inside” Jesus’ consciousness as he started that day. What did he know, and when did he know it? When he woke up, did he know Jairus would come to him? Did he anticipate the act of the woman?

Jesus has been described as a “Spirit Man,” one of those people who has a much deeper level of awareness than most. People in the Gospels find it uncanny the way he can “read them” and know what they are thinking. I’ve known a few people in my life who have had that ability, so I believe it exists. And I’m guessing he had it in spades.

However, I think if we take the story at face value, his encounter with the bleeding woman is written in a way to suggest Jesus did not anticipate it — he’s surprised and taken off guard. If he had a “plan” for his day, this encounter was not part of it. Or, to put it another way, if he started out with a plan for the day, he had to adapt the plan to fit real events. Some years ago, it struck me: he had to change his plans, but he did not have to change his purpose. His purpose was to exhibit divine justice, grace and compassion. The woman unexpectedly touching his cloak became not a cause of frustration, but a new opportunity to express his purpose. He could fulfill his purpose regardless of unanticipated events that came his way, presented to him by the choices other people make.

This has been a liberating insight. My day may go “all according to plan.” Or it may be interrupted by all kinds of events — some positive, some not. Living a spiritual life does not mean we have to assume we are to follow a preordained script. Rather, it means we try to keep clarity about what is most important to us and others in moments of unexpected events and decisions; we assume we need to be creative in adapting to the ups and downs that come our way.

The divine presence never leaves us and is always ready to help us improvise in a way that stays true to those deeper purposes. Remember that when events – big or small – interrupt our plans.