Dinnerless Camels
Dinnerless Camels
Saturday after the Resurrection – April 18, 2020
Transformation does not happen by an act of the will. Responding to an altar call is important for some, but is certainly not the end as much as a new beginning. Benchmark life-events may help nurture us, but one-time events do not have the force to shift the deeply ingrained patterns within us.
There are no quick fixes in the Christian spiritual life, no short-cuts to an adult spirituality.
Rather, we must take care to feed the inner self, to nourish the soul, to give care to that which is at our center, for this inner self will emerge in the world as a transforming presence. We cannot expect ourselves to live differently in the world if we do not attend to this inward dimension of life.
For example, in order not to be overwhelmed by a global pandemic, we must be intentional about ingesting spiritual nourishment that will give us resources to keep us from being overwhelmed by the pandemic flood. We have to eat spiritual food, so to speak, in order to have sustenance for these days. We do not automatically get these resources. They do not drop upon us from on high. They are given through our connection with God, through our openness to be shaped and formed by God.
Evelyn Underhill tells a short, poignant story about a dinnerless camel. Her story makes the point well.
There is, in Ferishtah’s Fancies, a story of two camels who were called to carry some precious merchandise across the desert. Before they started, they were each introduced to an excellent dinner. The first camel said: “Dinner? Oh no, I won’t waste my time on that. I love my master far too well and prefer to serve him without any reward.” So he started off, and in the middle of the desert, he collapsed and died. The second camel said: “Dinner! What an excellent idea! I love my master far too well to be taking any chances. I shall eat every scrap, and am very glad that it is tasty as well as nourishing.” He made the journey in safety and was called a good and faithful servant at the end.
Now the soul, like that camel, must have its meals if it is going to face the desert. If it were a question of one violent rush for the goal, the dinnerless camel might do it. But it is not. It is a long, monotonous, plodding journey. Exceptional demands bring their own strength with them, and exceptional demands may never come. But ordinary trials, bad roads, and scanty water are a certainty; and we won’t meet those conditions property unless we have had our necessary food.
I seem to see a great many dinnerless Christians about nowadays, yet the spirit of power is something to which every servant has a right. We must learn to set up the contacts by which we get at it, and not be disheartened if the training of our attention takes some time. The inner world is not one into which we can plunge suddenly. We must seek, knock patiently and steadily, and educate our souls; and it is a part of service to do this. Indeed, to try to serve at all, without setting up those contacts, is a masterpiece of folly as well as of conceit.
Let us remember that the God to whom we offer our service is a God of truth, of mind, and of will, who makes absolute demands on us in all these departments of life. This God of perfect truth, mind, and will – and of an awe, mystery, and beauty of which we cannot think – is also the God who demands. On one hand, He demands our love and service and on the other, He is the actual source and originator of our ability to love and serve. We can only fully respond to the demand by fully accepting the gift; and to do this is the whole secret of the saints.
[Evelyn Underhill, The Ways of the Spirit, edited by Grace Adolphsen Brame, (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 2001).]
For Reflection:
o I find myself in the story of the camels. I consider the ways I am like the first camel. Then I consider how I am like the second camel.
o What is my “dinner?” What nourishes and sustains me?
o What do I have to give others? What am I invited to share with those around me?
Saturday after the Resurrection – April 18, 2020
Transformation does not happen by an act of the will. Responding to an altar call is important for some, but is certainly not the end as much as a new beginning. Benchmark life-events may help nurture us, but one-time events do not have the force to shift the deeply ingrained patterns within us.
There are no quick fixes in the Christian spiritual life, no short-cuts to an adult spirituality.
Rather, we must take care to feed the inner self, to nourish the soul, to give care to that which is at our center, for this inner self will emerge in the world as a transforming presence. We cannot expect ourselves to live differently in the world if we do not attend to this inward dimension of life.
For example, in order not to be overwhelmed by a global pandemic, we must be intentional about ingesting spiritual nourishment that will give us resources to keep us from being overwhelmed by the pandemic flood. We have to eat spiritual food, so to speak, in order to have sustenance for these days. We do not automatically get these resources. They do not drop upon us from on high. They are given through our connection with God, through our openness to be shaped and formed by God.
Evelyn Underhill tells a short, poignant story about a dinnerless camel. Her story makes the point well.
There is, in Ferishtah’s Fancies, a story of two camels who were called to carry some precious merchandise across the desert. Before they started, they were each introduced to an excellent dinner. The first camel said: “Dinner? Oh no, I won’t waste my time on that. I love my master far too well and prefer to serve him without any reward.” So he started off, and in the middle of the desert, he collapsed and died. The second camel said: “Dinner! What an excellent idea! I love my master far too well to be taking any chances. I shall eat every scrap, and am very glad that it is tasty as well as nourishing.” He made the journey in safety and was called a good and faithful servant at the end.
Now the soul, like that camel, must have its meals if it is going to face the desert. If it were a question of one violent rush for the goal, the dinnerless camel might do it. But it is not. It is a long, monotonous, plodding journey. Exceptional demands bring their own strength with them, and exceptional demands may never come. But ordinary trials, bad roads, and scanty water are a certainty; and we won’t meet those conditions property unless we have had our necessary food.
I seem to see a great many dinnerless Christians about nowadays, yet the spirit of power is something to which every servant has a right. We must learn to set up the contacts by which we get at it, and not be disheartened if the training of our attention takes some time. The inner world is not one into which we can plunge suddenly. We must seek, knock patiently and steadily, and educate our souls; and it is a part of service to do this. Indeed, to try to serve at all, without setting up those contacts, is a masterpiece of folly as well as of conceit.
Let us remember that the God to whom we offer our service is a God of truth, of mind, and of will, who makes absolute demands on us in all these departments of life. This God of perfect truth, mind, and will – and of an awe, mystery, and beauty of which we cannot think – is also the God who demands. On one hand, He demands our love and service and on the other, He is the actual source and originator of our ability to love and serve. We can only fully respond to the demand by fully accepting the gift; and to do this is the whole secret of the saints.
[Evelyn Underhill, The Ways of the Spirit, edited by Grace Adolphsen Brame, (New York: Crossroad Publishing, 2001).]
For Reflection:
o I find myself in the story of the camels. I consider the ways I am like the first camel. Then I consider how I am like the second camel.
o What is my “dinner?” What nourishes and sustains me?
o What do I have to give others? What am I invited to share with those around me?
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