Author JOHN
To: Bob and Steve
Ah, a three-day weekend! You’d think I’d have plenty of time to get some thoughts on
paper. Except that it’s my week to be
“dad,” and son #1 is always on the computer. But right now he’s out on a “sort of” date. I think he has finally found someone he’s interested in. So I guess I’m free to. …uh….. Uh-oh. Wait a minute. Maybe I’d better stop right now and follow him, surreptitiously,
in my red car. Think he’d notice? Not if he’s in love. I say again, uh-oh. Well, at least I’m not in the situation of
some people I know. Some people have
daughters. Some people even have THREE
daughters (oh, bad planning, that, Steve. Heck, I’m betting that daughters won’t even take advantage of
hand-me-down clothes!).
Jeez, Steve, 20 years of marriage, you let nature
rule your brain three measly times, and look what happens! Sometime in these pages we need to figure
out why God created the sexes. But then
again, if He was going to have only one gender, and humanity was expected to
multiply, I think we all know who would have been left out! Well, at least I won’t be standing on the
front porch “cleaning” my shotgun when it’s time to “welcome” somebody’s first
“sort of” date. (How smart I was, in retrospect! You know, Steve, it was your chromosomes that did that.) The problem with being the dad to a girl is
that most dads I know used to be teenage boys, and we remember what was going
through our minds (I use the term loosely) back then.
I promised, fool that I am, to explore some of my
gray areas. And several of them seem to
be coming together lately. I want to start with something about Jesus. You already know that I am skeptical about
his physical resurrection. Not
surprisingly, I am also in doubt about his walking on water, turning water into
wine, and other miracles attributed to him. So then what, Steve might well ask, do I find in the Jesus story that I
CAN accept but which might actually require a modicum of faith? Okay: here is something…. Jesus the
healer. I find it not at all difficult
to accept that many, and possibly most, of the healings attributed to him in
the new testament may be “actual and factual.” And once I realize that I can accept that, some other things seem to
slip in the door while I have it open.
Part of the reason I can accept Jesus as healer is
that it would help account for those crowds of people described in the
scriptures wanting to hear him, following him, trying to get close to him. Another reason is that my other spiritual
sources have convinced me that such healings are possible. So it does not conflict with other aspects
of my personal theology.
Another issue that slips through the door along with
healing is the issue of faith or belief, which appears to be a strong factor in
the healings. (I may need to
discriminate between faith and belief later).
But of all the passages in the “gospels” that I have
read and reacted to (so far, this time around) here is the one that has
elicited the strongest (positive) reaction in me. (This story appears in Mark, Matthew, and Luke in different
forms. But I am quoting from Stephen
Mitchell’s translation, The Gospel According to Jesus, which is a modern
version of the Jefferson Bible (Bob’s “cut and paste” Bible.) So this is sort of a combined version, but
with certain things left out. Here it
is:
Still another time, a man in the crowd said to him,
“Rabbi, I brought you my son; he is possessed by a mute spirit, and when it
attacks him, it throws him around, and he foams and grinds his teeth and gets
stiff.”
And they brought the boy to him; and immediately he
was thrown down violently, and he thrashed around, foaming at the mouth. And
Jesus asked the father, “How long has this been happening to him?”
And he said, “Since he was a child. It has tried to kill him many times, and
thrown him into the fire or the water. But if it is possible for you to do anything, take pity on us and help
us.”
And Jesus said to him, “‘If it is possible’! Anything is possible when you believe it
is.”
And the boy’s father cried out, “I believe; help my
unbelief.”
And Jesus put his hands on the boy and spoke to
him. And the boy cried out and went
into convulsions, and then became like a corpse, so that most of the people
were saying he had died. But Jesus took
him by the hand and lifted him, and he stood up.
This passage positively stabs me in the heart. I identify with this man on several levels
simultaneously. What father hasn’t
agonized over the possibility of his child becoming seriously ill or
dying. It is a parent’s worst nightmare
-- I would easily choose to die myself instead, and if I couldn’t have that
choice, well it might kill me anyway!
In very few words, a lot comes through in this
passage -- I venture to think a lot more than even its author knew he was
revealing. It seems obvious that this
father comes to Jesus because he is in agony over this child whom he loves, and
he has heard that Jesus can heal. But
he can’t know for sure. And yet it
seems his only hope. I think it is
clear that he does NOT really believe, when he says “if it is possible for you
to do anything….” But my feeling is
that when Jesus answers him rather sternly, something in Jesus’ voice moves
this man closer to belief. He suddenly moves into a new level of faith (as perhaps anyone would, in the close
presence of Jesus), but he is still perhaps of two minds. He wants to believe, and yet he knows a
moment ago he was doubtful, and all the while he doesn’t want to risk losing,
through his own unbelief, this one possible chance for his son to be
healed. And he is willing to take the
risk that he will be proven a fool for putting his faith in this stranger, if
by taking that risk there is a chance of healing his son. On the chance that this
Jesus can do what people say, he is humbly willing to beg for help in front of
a crowd (“take pity on us”). So, when Jesus chastises him for the doubt that is
implicit in the way this man makes his request, he answers (“cries out” we
might say automatically) “I believe,” but then quickly, sincerely, and
poignantly, his true feelings are revealed: “help my unbelief.”
Those words “help my unbelief” describe better than I
could have ever expressed it myself, how I too feel about my own attempts to
have a relationship with God. For the
father in this story, it is a request made to Jesus himself, in person. For
that opportunity, I envy him greatly, as I have expressed before. For me, his
words are more like my prayer, which I address not so much to Jesus, but to
God. I also envy this man because this
he is someone who is undoubtedly (since we know the ending of the story) about
to step out across a chasm, on the bridge of faith.
Now, Steve is probably pleased by the fact that this
New Testament passage moves me to such a degree. I do feel an obligation, however, to stop and point out that if I
look at the 3 different versions of this story in their more usual
translations, there might be less for me to get excited about. For example, apparently the father had first
taken the boy to Jesus’ disciples, and they had tried and failed to heal the
boy. So, it would be no wonder that the
father is doubtful. More importantly,
Mitchell has chosen to leave on the cutting room floor some very harsh remarks
Jesus makes to his disciples about their failure. (I’m glad he did; they don’t ring true to me, either). And only in Mark’s version do the words
which mean so much to me -- “help my
unbelief” (or “help my lack of trust” in another translation) – occur. They are missing in Matthew. Also, whereas Stephen Mitchell pictures the
child’s problem as a sickness, it is pictured as an “evil spirit” or demon in
two of the gospels and as epilepsy in the other. Not only do I automatically distance myself from any kind of reference
to demons and evil spirits, but this illustrates fairly well another problem I
have had with the scriptures since my boyhood. Unlike Steve’s stated view, I find them VERY contradictory and
inconsistent (to the point that different versions of some stories all but
cancel each other out!)
There are other interesting things about this passage
also. Why, for example, does Jesus ask
the man how long the boy has had the problem? I don’t have an answer, but it bothers me. It seems somehow unexpected, and makes one wonder what difference
this information could make to Jesus. If, for example, the father had answered that the son began to act this
way only a month before, how would that be relevant; how would it have affected
the outcome of this story?
Still, in spite of my “nitpicking” (as no doubt Steve
sees it) this story resonates strongly with me. It moves me, and I find in it that voice of authority I seek.
Further, something else is also added in the Matthew version that I have always
found intriguing: Jesus’ famous quote
that if one has the faith (trust, belief) of a mustard seed, one can literally
“move mountains.” This is a strong and
direct answer that Jesus gives about the nature and power of belief.
I think it is important to note that Jesus does not
say “Anything is possible when you believe in me,” but instead “when you
believe it is [possible].” And in
Matthew, Jesus goes on to say “if you have trust…you will say to this mountain,
‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. And nothing will be beyond you.” This issue of belief, trust, faith (which may or may not be synonyms) is
a serious one with me, and which I find intriguing on several levels, but also
paradoxical.
Now, a slight detour, but I promise to return.
There is a school of thought about Jesus I that I’ve
found in some of my readings, which I find interesting. (It has a name, but I can’t call it right
now. However, I believe that the
Rosicrucians, the Knights Templar, the Masons, and other “secret societies” all
have some connection to this philosophy). The argument goes that the true message of Jesus is essentially missing
from the Bible. Adherents of this
school refer to “the lost teachings of Jesus.” They say that Jesus taught his disciples some very specific things
(among them how to heal, but also possibly some of the other “powers” Jesus is
said to have exhibited, such as when he supposedly calmed a storm), but that
these teachings are only hinted at in the Bible. Certainly, even when we read all the gospels, we are left with a
pretty sketchy picture of what went on between Jesus and the twelve. We are told a good bit about Jesus’ comings
and goings, and about what he had to say to the masses, but I think relatively
little about what special things transpired within this group of a master and
his students. Surely they weren’t just
bodyguards and “groupies”. They spent at least a year together intensely; what
kind of teacher/student things must have been going on, I wonder? There are a few things about their internal
interactions in the scriptures, but often as not they show Jesus upbraiding his
disciples for not having learned something. What did he try to teach them, I am left wondering, and what exactly did
they learn or fail to learn?
There are also at least two modern-day and very well
known ‘religions’ that focus on what I interpret as some of these missing
teachings: these are Christian Science
and A Course in Miracles. I have
looked into both of them to one degree or another. Christian Science, based on Mary Baker Eddy’s revelatory
interpretations of Jesus’ message (which began, if I remember correctly, after
she fell on ice and hit her head), focuses almost entirely on healing. I have tried and tried to get into this
approach, once had a friend in the Christian Science church, and even spent
half a day in the church’s headquarters in Boston. But frankly, each time I try to take it seriously, Christian
Science “turns me off”. Ms. Eddy is
just too self-righteous in her tone for it to have the ring of authenticity I
look for. (If either of you would like
to look at her Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, you are welcome
to it…permanently!
A Course in Miracles is based on the (reluctant)
automatic writings of a Jewish psychiatrist, through whom, if one accepts the
premise, Jesus’ spirit chose to speak again. This supposedly happened about 10
years ago, and this time Jesus’ words are addressed to modern man in his own
milieu. I’ve read the whole story of
how this originated, which is quite interesting and pretty compelling, and I’ve
read a good bit of the “teachings.” They are fascinating, but I have not come to any conclusion. If either of you would like to borrow this
material, you are welcome. But to give
a very brief summary, it seems to be saying that through dedicated internal
correction of our belief system, each of us has the potential to be a miracle
worker. I’m sure, based on things I’ve
said before, you can see why I find this interesting.
But I simply don’t know if A Course in Miracles
(which is described as having millions of adherents, or at least readers) is
valid, partly or wholly. (Not to get ahead of myself, but a little voice inside
me again wants to say: “It ain’t no
further out than some other stuff you and your two friends are discussing so
seriously”. Also, my cousin the
minister believes this material is authentic). One thing that does appeal to me about it is my feeling that it would be
unfair, to all the generations after Jesus, never to have the opportunity for
some kind of ‘real time’ contact with Jesus, as those rather primitive folk of
two millennia ago had. But more
importantly, the premise that we all have the potential to work miracles
resonates with me.
I want to bring back something I said a long time
ago: I believe that there is some
element of God in each of us. I meant
this literally and not figuratively, even though I have described it somewhat
figuratively. I’ve variously described
it as a “little bit of God,” as “God playing hide and seek with himself,” as
what we refer to as “the soul” (something we have yet to try and define), “God as actor, ego as character,” and so
forth.
I’ve also said that I see Jesus as exactly like
ourselves, only more highly evolved or aware of God. I am ambivalent about Steve reducing that to “Jesus as
example.” Well, yes, Jesus as example,
but only if you can buy the idea that we, too, can actually ATTAIN the same
Christ consciousness, the same perfection (though I don’t think Jesus was
perfect), and possibly some of the same “powers”. I think it would be more correct to say I believe in “Jesus as
teacher.” But I would mean that in the same sense that, though each of us must
learn from our high school teachers, and show them respect for dedicating
themselves to our enlightenment, we may reasonably expect to someday equal them
in our knowledge, or in our relationship to Knowledge with a capitol K. (I hasten to remind you that “someday” may
mean many lifetimes in my belief system.)
I am well aware that this is possibly heresy in
Steve’s opinion. Steve, who was at
first nodding his head up and down, is now growing uncomfortable, checking his
watch, and possibly locating the nearest exit. So be it.
Okay, now where was I? Oh yeah: belief, trust, faith, moving mountains, and working
miracles. A few teeny little ideas
worth discussing among us, to say the least. Let’s assume that we take the scriptural indications fairly literally
(Steve’s ears perk up), and that Jesus said it and meant it – the part about
faith moving mountains. What I want to know is: how would we operationalize that in our day-to-day lives? Let me whip up a real-life example. We could start anywhere, but suppose I have
found a job open somewhere and I think I want that job. I am some kind of Christian, so I pray about
it. From my experience, I think that
many Christians would pray something like this: “Father, if it be thy will for me to have it, I pray for assistance
in obtaining this job.” I have myself
prayed in this manner. And yet, does
that exemplify the faith and trust and belief that Jesus seems to call for, the
kind that moves mountains? At the
opposite end of the spectrum, I can imagine another kind of Christian, who
might not even pray, but tries to take Jesus at his word by bringing himself to
the point of absolute faith and belief that he will get that job. And yet, that sort of seems to leave God out
of things, doesn’t it (or does it)? This is the kind of paradox I get into with the belief idea, and that’s
only the beginning of it.
Let’s change the scenario a bit for a moment. Suppose I find that I have cancer (Note to
God: this is hypothesis, not a prayer!). Which of the above two kinds of prayers do you think would be more
likely to have an effect upon the cancer? It would seem that from what little we know about “faith healing,” about
the placebo effect (now being challenged, so I read), about “mind over matter,”
about spontaneous remissions, and so forth, the stronger our faith that we will
recover, the more likely the recovery. Thus, to preface our request to God with “if it be thy will,” would seem
possibly self-defeating. The whole
principle of success seems to lie in the strength of our faith we will be
healed, not in whether God will allow it or not.
Now, perhaps Steve will want to interject that faith
is always a two-part affair. First,
there has to be an absolute faith in God (OK, Jesus, is you like that better).
Then on top of that we can apply the faith principle in the specific case at
hand. So, perhaps it would be better to
say that we must bring ourselves to the point that we have absolute faith that
we will be healed by God. I would not
argue with that. But it does introduce
other problems, at least for me. The
first is whether or not, by taking this approach, we are trying to manipulate
God. Steve sometimes talks in terms of
“what God wants for us,” etc. That
would seem to imply that what God wants and what we want may not be the
same. Then can mountains only be moved
if God wants them moved? That seems in
violation of principles stated elsewhere: knock and the door will open, ask and it shall be given, seek and ye
shall find. Again: “Nothing will be
beyond you,” Jesus is reported as saying.
It gets more complicated when you try to include free
will in the picture. In the cancer
scenario, obviously nearly anyone would want to be healed, and if that could be
done by free will, it would be done every time. But we don’t seem to be able to do that, any more than we can fly
(can faith make us fly?). Still, in
wanting to heal myself of cancer, I am probably not interfering with anyone
else’s free will. So I guess there is
no conflict in my trying to bring myself to the point of absolute faith that I
will be healed. In the job hunting
scenario, however, there might be ten people all wanting the same job. Several of them might be praying to God (or
Jesus) that they be given it. Is the deciding factor who has the greatest
faith? (If so, does this also apply in
team sports?! Does God have a favorite
team? Charles Barkley says no).
Perhaps you think all this is just rhetoric and I’m
not really serious. And admittedly I
sometimes get tempted toward a certain facetiousness (at least I recognize that
in myself, Bob!). But on a personal
level, I am dead serious. So let me try
and make it more personal. Not
infrequently, I seem to find myself in a situation, somewhere between the job
and cancer scenarios. Basically, I want
something, some change in present circumstances. I will use my hurt leg as a recent example. There is a part of me that believes that if
I could bring my faith or belief to the right level, it would heal me. And yet,
there is another part of me that would draw back from letting that happen. There is perhaps a fear of a successful outcome! Why? Perhaps because once I had that kind of faith, and I knew that it had
healed me, this would be tantamount to God touching or interacting with me
directly. And as I have already
discussed in earlier pieces, the ego fears this. It is a threat to its existence, and perhaps a threat (but
perhaps mistakenly) to the whole idea of free will.
One place all that leads, it seems to me, is to the
idea of turning one’s free will over to God. And attractive as that sounds on one level, it is also scary, at least
to the ego. But here is the kicker:
I have tried to look back at all the times I have
been in that kind of situation, where I was approaching, or confronting the
possibility of, a solution through faith. And here is what I think I see happening every time. The circumstances are always such, that even
if I believe something is going to happen (or simply pray for it to happen) and
it DOES happen, there always seems to be an alternative explanation. For example, if I am hurt physically, and I
am praying and building my faith for a healing, I am also seeing a doctor. (In this culture one goes to the doctor
whenever one realizes there is a serious problem.) So in effect I am being treated by a doctor and by God at the
same time. And even though I may be
intensely trying to achieve a faith-related cure, when I do heal there is
always the possibility that the cure came from the doctor, or the medicine, or
whatever. That’s just one example. Another is that if I get the job I apply for (and pray for) it might be
God’s help or it might be the wonderful resume I myself designed to make me
look like I “walk on water”! Or my
interview skills.
(I want to add that in the case of the doctor, there
is a school of thought that says either (a) the doctor’s faith may be great
enough to heal the patient, or (b) the patient’s faith in the doctor may be
great enough, or (c) the collective faith in a drug may be great enough (but in
any case, according to this new-age school of belief, it is still faith that
heals the patient, and not what the doctor or the drug actually does.)
So in these situations, even though I may have been
praying, and building my faith, and communing with the infinite very intensely
for the whole time leading up to my “prayer being answered,” there always seems
to be a strictly worldly or self-instigated cause for me to fall back on,
instead of having to recognize that God answered my prayer.
What I conclude from all this is: it is God’s way of having us choose, with
our free will, which way we will interpret the given event. So ultimately, faith is a choice we make.
(Steve’s feeling good again, now). If
that line of reasoning/observation is true, then perhaps it also explains
something else: that all religious documents (the Bible or its equivalent in
any other given religion) are always and necessarily going to be
ambiguous. There are always going to be
things to doubt; otherwise there would be no room left for the necessary
(necessary from the point of view of God!) ingredient of faith – as an act of
will.
Before I leave this issue (for now), I want to
suggest that there may be a difference between belief and faith. Belief is perhaps strictly a mental thing,
existing in the mind or intellect – a result of reasoning, observation, judgment,
etc. Faith is perhaps a thing of the
heart or soul, and is more akin to an act. To bring this full circle, I just
wish I had the scholarship to translate the healing passage, given earlier,
myself. Because I suspect the meaning
or the correct translation of the father’s answer to Jesus should really have
been: “I believe; help my lack of faith!”
I continue to explore these questions and possible
answers. I welcome the thoughts of you
two Christians, about my foray into Christianity.
And now I want to say a couple of things more
specifically to Steve. Bob is always trying to pin you down on certain issues,
which is his scholarly way. Rather than
try to pin you down, I want to try and state some things myself which I see as
basic differences, as simply and directly as possible (which isn’t easy!).
It is obvious to me (and I think to Bob) that even
though you try honestly and sincerely to entertain our differing opinion, you
believe that Jesus is the only door into God’s kingdom. I think that Bob believes that Jesus is one
door into God’s kingdom, and (for reasons and experiences of his own) he has
decided it is one that he wants to pursue further. Listen up now: John also
believes Jesus is one door into God’s kingdom. This is not just lip service, Steve; I honestly believe it. And the difference between Bob and John is
that John (for reasons and experiences of his own) is not inclined to pursue
it.
To bring it all down to its essence, then, as I
understand it, the difference between our attitudes is that you do not accept
the idea that there are other doors to the kingdom. It is entirely your right to believe this, and (for the umpteenth
time) I recognize that you could be right. But even if you are wrong about
Jesus being the only door, my wish is for you to meditate in your own way on
this point: No one is trying to
invalidate Jesus as a door to God’s kingdom.
The same line of reasoning can be applied to the
Bible: You appear to believe that the
Bible represents “truth” (i.e., God’s word) as you choose to define the
word. Bob’s opinion differs from that,
but he believes there is truth in the Bible. I also believe there is truth in the Bible, I really do. Where we differ
with you is, of course, that we think there is also other stuff besides truth
in the Bible. In my case, as you
already know, that is because I must strongly object that the Bible is not
God’s word, but some people’s word about God’s word, to me an entirely
different thing. And if you followed my
reasoning above about the ambiguousness of all spiritual documents, then you
see one more reason I have arrived at that conclusion about the Bible. But
again, I ask you to accept this point: No one is saying that there isn’t plenty of very important truth in the
Bible.
Now, because I have known you and shared a friendship
with you for a long time, I know something else about you: you are genuinely concerned for our
welfare. In fact, from my point of
view, this is a major reason this whole trialogue has been possible. Bob and I are well aware of it. And I think we both appreciate that concern.
I just wanted to ask you to meditate on these things,
and on this summary point: because I
choose a different path does not imply that I believe the path you are on is
invalid. To my way of thinking, it is
simply your path. Maybe you are already
aware of my thoughts in these areas, but they are said here just in case!
Of course, I also invite Bob to correct anything
about him that I said above which he feels in incorrect.
Now I want to share with you guys (as is sometimes my
habit) two things from outside this trialogue. The first is something my friend Suzanne (Remember? My emails with her sort of started this whole thing.) shared with me in a recent email. I thought it was very poignant, and that
also it had some relation to the remarks both Steve and I have made about
dealing with guilt toward our parents. Here it is:
One of my most recent "psychic"
experiences had to do with my two children and my mother. I'm going to tell you about this because I
know enough about your interests now to think you won't think it's too
weird! I've been in a long process of
understanding and forgiving my mother that's gone on for about 20 years
now. I think I've finally worked
through it all, and on her birthday, February 19, I "took her out to
dinner." As it turned out, I was
alone that night (my husband and both kids were elsewhere.) So I went by myself
to Rod's, an elegant, dimly lit place with great food. I imagined my mother was sitting across the
table from me, and I had a long mental conversation with her about why things
had been the way they were between us. I imagined her as I've seen her in so many pictures, before her
difficulties got the better of her -- a petite but elegantly dressed woman,
looking very much like a 40's movie star. I really felt she was there, and that for the first time we understood
each other and enjoyed each other's company. (A couple of glasses of wine helped with this illusion!)
Then, several nights later, I had a dream. I've been worried about both my children for
various reasons (my son says I worry about everything, and was mocking me just
yesterday in a high voice, saying "Oh, my, I'm worried! Look at those cirrus clouds forming up
there. Could be trouble! I'm worried about this!") No matter what he thinks, I have good
reasons to worry -- believe me! So I
had a dream right before Easter of my mother holding two eggs in her hand. One was painted silver and the other was
gold. The silver one was my dauther --
bright as moonlight -- and the gold one was my son -- warmth personified. My mother told me she was looking after both
of them, and she smiled and closed her hand softly around both eggs. I have worried much less since.
Okay, me again, guys. The second thing is something I wrote about 10 years ago. One of my numerous unfinished (in this case,
hardly begun) writing projects was supposed to be a collection of very short
stories (one could even consider them poems) called “Mysterious Ways.” The idea was to show lots of examples of how
God might answer prayers in unseen ways, without our knowing how it was
accomplished. I was trying to demonstrate what I think is very possible: that we are constantly failing to see it
when our prayers have been answered.) I
drafted a couple of these little stories, and I managed to find one of them
over the weekend. It’s hardly a great
piece of literature, but the whole point was to show how God might lurk in the
typical, mundane details of everyday life. I might add that this one is based on actual facts of a personal
experience I did have, although of course the interpretation of the outcome is
speculation. I thought you might find it somewhat to the point. Here it is:
How God Works: Mysterious Way #3
Saturday evening he was grilling the burgers
when his wife called out from the kitchen,
”Those sure do smell good.”
”Of course,” he said and strutted around the patio
with his chest stuck out like a rooster.
And one of his little boys saw him and laughed.
Then she opened the back door and said:
”However, sometime soon I sure would like some Chinese food.”
He laughed at how he’d been manipulated and said,
”How about Friday when your parents come down?”
”Good idea,” she said, and he resisted saying, “Of course.”
On Sunday afternoon, he made the mistake of laying
some new insulation in the attic,
remembering the hat, the gloves, the mask,
the goggles, and the long sleeves,
but forgetting to put on the knee pads.
That’s when the tiny pieces of fiberglass
got ground into his right kneecap
and started the staff infection that got worse
and worse till Wednesday, when he finally
went to a doctor, who turned out to be a substitute
for his regular physician and prescribed augmenten
instead of the penicillin he was expecting.
The infection was serious and threatened to put him in the hospital.
That night he got to thinking about what would happen
to his family, especially his two boys, if he weren’t around,
and he said one of his rare prayers, for deliverance.
On Thursday things looked worse, then better, then worse.
The infection had moved into his calf and then his ankle
and hew vowed to go back to the doctor
and change medications on Friday if the leg didn’t improve.
But there as an ice storm Thursday night,
and in the morning he decided to stay in bed.
He didn’t tell his wife how bad things were.
She went to work in spite of the ice,
offering to bring home the Chinese food.
He told her, “Fine, but no MSG,”
because, as she knew, he was allergic.
About give o’clock the in-laws called
and said they weren’t coming after all
because of the ice on the roads.
Limping badly into the kitchen
he found the yellow pages and called
the Chinese restaurant his wife liked best.
He described his wife to a Chinese man
who told him she hadn’t been there,
then told him to wait a minute,
because someone had just come in.
Then his wife’s voice came on the phone:
”Hey gimpy, so what in the world is this?”
He told her not to buy all that Chinese food,
but she said she had phoned in the order
and couldn’t just cancel it now.
She came home with too much food
and they began to eat it. And he
decided
to drink a beer, even though he knew
if there were any MSG, the alcohol
would only make his reaction worse.
Half way through the meal he began
to get that feeling at the base of his skull
and it became difficult to breathe.
”There’s MSG in this,” he said.
”I told them not to,” she said.
”They either lied or forgot,” he said.
”Besides, the hot and sour soup
has to be prepared a long time in advance.”
”A guy at work has the same problem with MSG,”
she said, “and he says an antihistamine
might help you with your reaction.”
He got up and went to the medicine cabinet,
took a spoonful of antihistamine,
and lay down on the couch.
His head felt better after a few minutes
and the breathing returned to normal
but he began to feel some chills coming on
and decided to get in the tub.
His wife had to help him, because
the leg was sore, and turning red,
which scared her half to death.
”You ought to go to the emergency room,”
she said. “You wanna keep that leg?”
This made him angry because she was right,
and he felt the adrenaline pour into his veins.
But it was too icy to go out now.
She went to look in her medical book,
and he sank slowly into very warm water.
When his leg reached a temperature of 109,
the combination of his adrenaline,
a chemical from the MSG,
another from the antihistamine,
a certain amount of alcohol,
a specific kind of hops
only used in his favorite Dutch beer,
and some leftover carcinogens
from the burgers a week before
combined in a way that immediately
reversed the course of his infection,
which was obviously withdrawing by morning.
This story could, of course, have begun
a hundred other places,
such as 12 years earlier,
on the day he first met the woman
who would later become his wife.
