Reading notes

Bill Moyers writes concerning the theological quicksand on which rests the ecological future of Earth, quoting Shakespeare —

What has happened to our moral imagination?

On the heath Lear asks Gloucester: “How do you see the world?” And Gloucester, who is blind, answers: “I see it feelingly.’”

I see it feelingly.

Why don’t we feel the world enough to save it — for our kin to come?

I see it feelingly. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

These may be the most accurate words describing my own condition I’ve ever read. When I read King Lear in high school, I didn’t notice. Whoa, now I do.

Not only does this aptly reflect my general INFP approach to life, it’s also my specific MO, of necessity, because my physical eyes have never worked very well. (Although toric contacts have recently wrought a miracle even there.)

Almost everything I write, say, and do springs from seeing the world feelingly. Sometimes faultily, but always feelingly.

[Insert: Note that “feelingly” does not preclude “thinkingly” and “informedly.” I aim for the sweet spot combining all three — as, dare I say it, should we all. Delusion can’t easily set up residence in people who feel and think and learn.]

What this seeing tells me, above almost all else, is that God requires of us that we steward this earth he has entrusted us with, care for it, nurture it, love it (and those on it) as his good creation. “Well done, good and faithful servant!” will be music in our ears on doing so. But should we destroy it in the service of an arrogant, exploitive misunderstanding of the word dominion, I expect what we’ll hear is more along the lines of “throw that worthless servant outside, into the darkness.”

What kind of creator would delight in seeing one part of his creation destroy another part? If destruction is required (see Flood), it’s always the creator’s call. Such action is never the call of the created.

Reminds me of the wicked tenants in Jesus’ parable who sought to forcibly take possession of a vineyard that wasn’t theirs. Jesus tells the story to illustrate the people’s soon-to-come rejection and killing of him as “the vineyard owner’s son.” I think it bears an interpretation that focuses on the outcome for the tenants, too: If we — who are, after all, tenants here — continue our “we can do anything we want” disregard for, and abuse of, this planet-size vineyard, we can reasonably expect a comparable outcome: “What then will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and kill those tenants and give the vineyard to others.”

[via DHinMI]