Perhaps the greatest harm that we human beings inflict upon ourselves comes from those of us who are morally certain, who see the world in black-and-white terms and know that they're on the right side.
This black-and-whiteness is often seen in terms of a struggle, a moral struggle in which victory must be attained at all costs.
Often in a conflict, both sides are praying to God to help them achieve victory in their righteous struggle. What kind of God could favor one flower over another, one set of beings over another, one aspect of its creation over another? It's not possible.
The very nature of the infinite is compassion, compassion for all of itself without exception. Metaphorically, when compassion shows up in our hearts, that is how the ungraspable shows up again on earth. (Of course, it's always already here too, but that's one of its paradoxes.)
In my experience, the world is not black-and-white. Black-and-white only shows up in the world of thoughts. Thoughts can be black-and-white, but in my opinion, reality can never be. It's too filled with thousands and millions of shades of gray. Indeed, that is one of the things that makes it so mysterious and fascinating.
As an example, the Palestinians cry out in pain that their homeland is invaded by a brutal occupying army, that Israel is practicing military terrorism against the Palestinian populace. On the other side, the Israelis cry out in pain that they want to exist in safety and security, that suicide bombers attack the innocent populace and that they must defend their survival.
Each side is aware of its own pain. Neither side is aware of the other's pain. The mothers and fathers on each side cry for their own lost children, but not for the lost children on the other side.
In that situation, a true healing and flourishing will emerge when one side (it only takes one to begin it, actually) sincerely and heartfully begins to understand and convey its regret for the pain on the other side, as well as an understanding and regret for its own.
That is, one side (or both, but only one is needed at first) begins to understand and acknowledge the pain experienced on both sides and then begins to act from that understanding. There are no guarantees in this life, but a positive upward spiral might very well emerge from that.
Another example: Hitler was a very black-and-white person. He just knew that he was doing something great, maintaining and encouraging the "superior" race. If some eggs needed to be broken to achieve this overwhelming goal, so be it—so said his moral certitude. But such certitude of rightness led to disaster.
Another example was the burning of heretics in the Middle Ages because they didn't have the "right" belief. As if the divine needed the flattery of the "right" belief. As if one name or interpretation or aspect of itself could be more precious to itself than another.
Another example could be the certitude with which we regard our interpretations of other people, other nations, other tribes, other beliefs.
It's very interesting that in Zen they describe a "transmission without thought," that is, without attachment to beliefs.
What, then, does one bring to a situation if not a belief? We might bring our consciousness and compassion to each moment and then act from that consciousness and compassion. Where there is pain, we might look to the true causes of that pain rather than attacking the symptoms of it.
One of the great beauties of the world is its riotous display of multi-colored flowers and multi-hued realities. Though the eyes of the infinite, all beings are precious, all "sides" are precious, all children and adults on any side are precious.
The great Chinese enlightened mystic Lao-Tzu once said that it seemed that all beings around him seemed so certain about everything, and that only he seemed to tremble like a leaf in his uncertainty.
But the humility of uncertainty, the humility of admitting that one does not know the ultimate "right" and "wrong" of the universe, is the very thing that then opens the door to the visit of the divine inside. If we want divine intervention in our solutions, we must first bow down in great humility. Only then does the heart open in compassion with nothing and nobody left out.
And then, when we rise up with compassion for all sides and all beings in our heart, then the infinite is answering our prayers in the truest possible way. It is waiting for itself, we could say, through the medium of these human bodies, these human eyes, these human hearts, to wake up in compassion for itself once again.
—jim sloman, 8/07/02 for 9/24/02
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