Plato’s allegory of the cave is discussed in every intro
to Philosophy class. Plato instructs his
students to imagine the world is like a dark chamber in a deep cave. Its only source of light is a wood fire. Next, Plato asks his students to imagine a
group of people who live in the cave.
They have never been outside the chamber, not even once. In fact, Plato says, envision each person has
spent his or her entire life sitting in a chair facing a wall of the cave with
the fire burning behind them. They never
stand up. They never turn around. They never even look sideways to see the
other people who are sitting there with them.
All they know of life is the flickering shadows cast on the cave wall as
the light from the fire moves past their own sitting bodies.
Plato goes on.
One day one person sitting in a chair stands up and looks around. He sees all the other people in the
chamber. He sees the other walls of the
cave. He even sees the fire for what it
is. He, and he alone, has a unique perspective
on reality. As he wanders around the
chamber he discovers a passageway leading toward a strange new light. It is a tunnel to the cave’s entrance. Standing in the opening he beholds the light
of the sun. He sees color for the first
time: blue skies, white clouds, green vegetation, and brilliant flowers. And he sees other creatures: animals, birds,
insects, fish, and even other people.
He, and he alone, knows there is so much more to the
world than the flickering, shadowy images on the cave’s wall. He goes back into the chamber and tries to
convince the others to look around, to face the fire, and to walk out of the
cave into the sunlight. All but a few
insist he is wrong. They are convinced
there is nothing more to life than the shadow images. They will not stand. They will not turn. And they will not follow him out of the
cave. Only a handful of people have the
courage to do as the person suggests.
Plato teaches his students he is like the one who
first stands up and examines the world.
He teaches his students they are the few who accept his invitation to challenge
what they know of reality. And he holds
the overwhelming majority of people are content to stare at the shadows,
remaining firm in the erroneous belief the world holds nothing more and nothing
better than the dark cave with the flickering images.
There is a story in Sanskrit about a frog born in a well
which stays in the well and lives its entire life in the well. Its worldview consists only of the well. It has no way of knowing there are other
wells with other frogs. It has no way of
knowing there are frogs living in ponds and frogs living in streams and frogs living
in lakes and frogs living in rivers. It
knows only itself and its well.
The allegory of the cave and the story of the frog touch
on an aspect of our humanity cutting across all cultures and all peoples. Human beings from all times and all places
seem to understand there is more to reality than we can grasp from our own
unique, but limited perspective. Because
of this insight we hold openness and communion with one another to be better
for us than isolation and fiercely protected rigidity. It is a belief based on the experience of
having someone proclaim something radically different from what we hold to be
true and then having that foreign proclamation help individuals and entire
cultures to take dramatic steps forward.
Isn’t this what Jesus is trying to do in the Gospel
reading we heard just moments ago? He
has launched his public ministry and it has been marked by inspired teaching,
miraculous healings, and breath-taking signs and wonders. His fame is spreading far and wide. Then Jesus returns to Nazareth, his
hometown. He is back with his teachers
and coaches and scout leaders and neighbors and friends and he wants to bring
to them the Kingdom of God (a reality he himself inaugurates and embodies), but
they will have none of it. They are
satisfied with what they know of life.
They are comfortable, even though (and perhaps because) they are
complacent. They prefer to watch the
shadows. They choose to stay in the
well.
How tempting it is to assign this phenomenon to
someone else! How tempting it is to say
I am not like them, to assert we would never bury our collective heads in the
sand all the while pretending we are scanning a vast horizon! And yet how easy it is for our understanding
of life to become little more than watching shadows dance on the wall; never to
turn and face one another, never to look at the fire fueling the images we
admire, and never to walk out into the pure, bright light which is the true
glory of God.
And how easy it is for a faith community like ours to
become like a frog in a well, never to scale the walls to see what lies outside
our isolated environment. How easy it is
to become satisfied all the while being closed off from God, from one another,
and from the world around us.
And, on this day when we celebrate the 245th
anniversary of our nation’s independence, how easy has it become to exchange the
genius of our enterprise (our desire to create new maps and to chart new
courses by listening to and learning from one another) for the worst of our
nature (the inclination to create trenches and ruts to defend our own perilous
perspectives). When and why did we
become so afraid of each other?
We learn from today’s reading God will not allow us to
live in isolation because God’s Spirit continually comes to us to call us
outward and to bring us closer to the Kingdom of God. It may not always be comfortable. Frequently, it may go against what we know to
be conventional. It may confuse us or
make us mad or scare us to the marrow or even cause us to part ways with those
we hold dear (at least for a while). But
who among us really wants to watch shadows or to live knowing only the life of
a well? Who among us wants to be nothing
more than a citizen of Nazareth… a city which over the centuries, according the
historical records, never produced a single achievement worthy of note? Do you think there is a correlation between
the way they closed themselves off to Jesus and the fact they never accomplished
anything making an impression on the world?
The text tells us Jesus marveled at their
“unbelief.” It wasn’t just him and his
vision of the Kingdom they didn’t believe in.
They didn’t believe in the grandeur of the world as God has made it. They didn’t believe in the potential for
progress. And, I dare say, they didn’t
believe in themselves.
Jesus’ response is instructive. He moves on.
Time is too short and there are too many people who are willing to stand
and turn. He divides his followers into
groups of two and sends them out. They respond
to Jesus’ invitation to explore what lies beyond the cave. They want to see what lies beyond the walls
of well. They don’t need special
training or special equipment or special clothing. All they need is a willingness to pursue
God’s dream for all people and to invite others to join in their journey.
Where are you in all of this? In the cave fearful of looking at anything
else beyond the flickering on the wall?
In the well, completely oblivious to the glorious possibilities just
beyond? Perhaps for the first time you
are beginning the journey of open exploration and discovery. Maybe you have left the cave or the well and
desire to invite others to join you. No
matter where you are in this Jesus reaches out to you and says “Walk with me. I have nothing more important to do than to show
you life and the world and God and reality.”
