Showing posts with label C. S. Lewis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label C. S. Lewis. Show all posts

Sunday, August 17, 2014

A Slip of the Tongue說溜了嘴


C. S. Lewis
1956
「神啊,所有信靠祢的人的保護者,沒有你,沒有什麼是堅強的,沒有什麼是神聖的:請加倍賜給我們祢的憐憫;因著祢是我們的統治者和引導者,使我們可以拋棄暫時的事物,而不至於最終失去永恆的事物:天父啊,為了我們的主耶穌基督,應允這一點。阿門。」

O God, the protector of all that trust in thee, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy: Increase and multiply upon us thy mercy; that, through being our ruler and guide, we may so pass through things temporal, that we finally lose not the things eternal: Grant this, O heavenly Father, for the sake of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

不久以前,在我個人的禱告裡,我引用了英國教會在五旬節後第四個主日的禱告辭;我發現我說溜了嘴:
我本來想說:「...使我能不顧世俗的牽掛,而不致於失掉永恆的事物...」結果發現我是這麼禱告的:「...使我能不顧永恆的牽掛,而不致於失掉俗世的事物...」
當然,我不認為說溜了嘴是個罪過;也不認為我有資格稱得上是個佛洛伊德的粉絲,會相信所有的說溜了嘴,都有深遠的意義。不過我認為,有些還是有意義的,這個就屬於其中之一。我認為,在不經意中,我說出了幾乎是我的某些真正的願望。
Not long ago when I was using the collect for the fourth Sunday after Trinity in my private prayers I found that I had made a slip of the tongue. I had meant to pray that I might so pass through things temporal that I finally lost not the things eternal; I found I had prayed so to pass through things eternal that I finally lost not the things temporal. Of course, I don't think that a slip of the tongue is a sin. I am not sure that I am even a strict enough Freudian to believe that all such slips, without exception, are deeply significant. But I think some of them are significant, and I thought this was one of that sort. I thought that what I had inadvertently said very nearly expressed something I had really wished.

當然,“幾乎是”並非“恰恰是”。我從未笨到認為永恆真的可以“不顧”。為了要不妨礙我的世俗事物而不顧的,就是在專注於永恆而把自己溶於其中的那些時刻。
Very nearly; not, of course, precisely. I had never been quite stupid enough to think that the eternal could, strictly, be “passed through.” What I had wanted to pass through without prejudice to my things temporal was those hours or moments in which I attended to the eternal, in which I exposed myself to it.

I mean this sort of things. I say my prayers, I read a book of devotion, I prepare for, or receive, the Sacrament. But while I do these things, there is, so to speak, a voice inside me that urges caution. It tells me to be careful, to keep my head, not to go too far, not to burn my boats. I come into the presence of God with a great fear lest anything should happen to me within that presence which will prove too intolerably inconvenient when I have come out again into my “ordinary” life. I don’t want to be carried away into any resolution which I shall afterwards regret. For I know I shall be feeling quite different after breakfast; I don’t want anything to happen to me at the altar which will run up too big a bill to pay then. It would be very disagreeable, for instance, to take the duty of charity (while I am at the altar) so seriously that after breakfast I had to tear up the really stunning reply I had written to an impudent correspondent yesterday and mean to post today. It would be very tiresome to commit myself to a programme of temperance which will cut off my after-breakfast cigarette (or, at best, make it cruelly alternative to a cigarette latter in the morning). Even repentance of past acts will have to be paid for. By repenting, one acknowledges them as sins – therefore not to be repeated. Better leave that issue undecided.

The root principle of all these precautions is the same: to guard the things temporal.

This is my endlessly recurrent temptation: to go down to that Sea (I think St. John of the Cross called God a sea) and there neither dive nor swim nor float, but only dabble and splash, careful not to get out of my depth and holding on to the lifeline which connects me with my things temporal.

It is different from the temptations that met us at the beginning of the Christian life. Then we fought against admitting the claims of the eternal at all. And when we had fought, and been beaten, and surrendered, we supposed that all would be fairly plain sailing. This temptation comes later. It is addressed to those who have already admitted the claim in principle and are even making some sort of effort to meet it. Our temptation is too look eagerly for the minimum that will be accepted. We are in fact very like honest but reluctant taxpayers. We approve of an income tax in principle. We make our returns truthfully. But we dread a rise in the tax. We are very careful to pay no more than is necessary. And we hope– we very ardently hope – that after we have paid it there will still be enough left to live on.

The lie consists in the suggestion that our best protection is a prudent regard for the safety of our pocket, our habitual indulgences, and our ambitions. But that is quite false. Our real protection is to be sought elsewhere: in common Christian usage, in moral theology, in steady rational thinking, in the advice of good friends and good books. Swimming lessons are better than a lifeline to the shore. For of course that lifeline is really a death line. There is no parallel to paying taxes and living on the remainder.

For it is not so much of our time and so much of our attention that God demands; it is not even all our time and all our attention; it is ourselves. For each of us the Baptist’s words are true: “He must increase and I decrease.” He will be infinitely merciful to our repeated failures; I know no promise that He will accept a deliberate compromise. For He has, in the last resort, nothing to give us but Himself; and He can give that only insofar as our self-affirming will retires and makes room for Him in our souls. Let us make up our minds to it; there will be nothing “of our own” left over to live on, no “ordinary” life. I do not mean that each of us will necessarily be called to be a martyr or even an ascetic. That’s as may be. For some the Christian life will include much leisure, many occupations we naturally like. But these will be received from God’s hands. In a perfect Christian they would be as much part of his “religion,” his “service,” as his hardest duties, and his feasts would be as Christian as his fasts. What cannot be admitted–what must exist only as an undefeated but daily resisted enemy–is the idea of something that is “our own,” some area in which we are to be “out of school,” on which God has no claim.

For He claims all, because He is love and must bless. He cannot bless us unless He has us. When we try to keep within us an area that is our own, we try to keep an area of death. Therefore, in love, He claims all. There’s no bargaining with Him.

That is, I take it, the meaning of all those sayings that alarm me most. Thomas More said, “If ye make indentures with God how much ye will serve Him, ye shall find ye have signed both of them yourself.” Law, in his terrible, cool voice, said, “Many will be rejected at the last day, not because they have taken time and pains about their salvation, but because they have not taken time and pains enough”; and later, in his richer, Behmenite period, “If you have not chosen the Kingdom of God, it will make in the end no difference what you have chosen instead.” Those are hard words to take. Will it really make no difference whether it was women or patriotism, cocaine or art, whisky or a seat in the Cabinet, money or science? Well, surely no difference that matters. We shall have missed the end for which we are formed and rejected the only thing that satisfies. Does it matter to a man dying in a desert by which choice of route he missed the only well?

It is a remarkable fact that on this subject Heaven and Hell speak with one voice. The tempter tells me, “Take care. Think how much this good resolve, the acceptance of this Grace, is going to cost.” But Our Lord equally tells us to count the cost.” But our Lord equally tells us to count the cost. Even in human affairs great importance is attached to agreement of those whose testimony hardly ever agrees. Here, more. Between them it would seem to be pretty clear that paddling [near the shore] is of little consequence. What matters, what Heaven desires and Hell fears, is precisely that further step, out of our depth, out of our own control. And yet, I am not in despair…


I do not think any efforts of my own will can end once and for all this craving for limited liabilities, this fatal reservation. Only God can. I have good faith and hope He will. Of course, I don’t mean that I can therefore, as they say, “sit back.” What God does for us. He does in us. The process of doing it will appear to me to be the daily and hourly repeated exercises of my own will in renouncing this attitude, especially each morning, for it grows all over me like a new shell each night. Failures will be forgiven; it is acquiescence that is fatal, the permitted, regularized presence of an area in ourselves which we still claim for our own. We may never, this side of death, drive the invader out of our territory, but we must not be in the Resistance, not in the Vichy government. And this, so far as I can yet see, must be begun again every day. Our morning prayer should be that in the Imitation: Da hodie perfecte inciperegrant me to make an unflawed beginning today, for I have done nothing yet.

Saturday, March 8, 2014

論寬恕On Forgiveness



C.S. Lewis
1960
Bill Lin

我們在教會裡(也在教會外面)不經思考的說了一大堆事情。譬如我們在念信經上的“我信罪得寬恕”,我這樣子說了好多年以後,才問自己,為什麼信經會這麼寫? 乍看之下,好像不值得一提;我想:「假如你是個基督徒,你當然相信罪得寬恕,不用說,必然如此。」

但是當年編寫信經的那些人,似乎認為這是我們的信仰中,每一到教會就必須得被提醒的那一部份。而且我也看到了這一點,依我的看法,他們是對的。要信罪得寬恕並不像我當初想的那麼容易。要真正的去相信它,就像某些東西,假如我們不持續的練習,很容易就會忘掉的。

我們相信,神赦免我們的罪;不過,除非我們先寬恕別人的冒犯,祂是不會這樣子做的;這一點也是無庸置疑的。它出自“主禱文”,是我們的主,耶穌特別強調的。假如你不寬恕人,你就不被寬恕。絕無例外。

祂不是說:我們必須寬恕別人的罪,因為他們不那麼可惡,或因為他們情有可原,或類似的種種原因。不管多噁心、多壞、慣犯累犯,通通寬恕。假如我們不這麼做,我們自己的任一過錯也都不被寬恕。

依我看來,有關神的恕罪和我們被教導的寬恕別人的過錯上,我們經常都犯了個錯誤:先講神的恕罪;我發現,當我以為我是在求神恕罪的時候,其實我經常(除非我把自己看得很緊)是在求祂做完全不同的事。我並不求祂赦免我,而是要祂因為我的藉口而放我一馬。但是在這世上,寬恕和原諒是有很大的不同的。

對於寬恕是這麼說的:「是的,你已經做了這件事,但是我接受你的道歉;我不會再拿這件事來責怪你,我們兩者之間的關係,是完好如初。」假如這個人真正沒有什麼好責怪的,那也沒啥好寬恕的。在這個意義上寬恕,原諒幾乎是對立的。

當然,在許多狀況下,不論是在神與人之間或人與人之間,寬恕和原諒或許有些混淆;有些一開始像是有罪過的,結果真的大家都沒錯而不了了之;其餘的那些也被寬恕了。假若你有一個很好的藉口,你並不需要被寬恕;假若你整個行為需要被寬恕,你也不需要有藉口。

****

We say a great many things in church (and out of church too) without thinking of what we are saying. For instance, we say in the Creed "I believe in the forgiveness of sins." I had been saying it for several years before I asked myself why it was in the Creed. At first sight it seems hardly worth putting in. "If one is a Christian," I thought "of course one believes in the forgiveness of sins. It goes without saying." But the people who compiled the Creed apparently thought that this was a part of our belief which we needed to be reminded of every time we went to church. And I have begun to see that, as far as I am concerned, they were right. To believe in the forgiveness of sins is not so easy as I thought. Real belief in it is the sort of thing that easily slips away if we don't keep on polishing it up.

We believe that God forgives us our sins; but also that He will not do so unless we forgive other people their sins against us. There is no doubt about the second part of this statement. It is in the Lord's Prayer, it was emphatically stated by our Lord. If you don't forgive you will not be forgiven. No exceptions to it. He doesn't say that we are to forgive other people's sins, provided they are not too frightful, or provided there are extenuating circumstances, or anything of that sort. We are to forgive them all, however spiteful, however mean, however often they are repeated. If we don't we shall be forgiven none of our own.

Now it seems to me that we often make a mistake both about God's forgiveness of our sins and about the forgiveness we are told to offer to other people's sins. Take it first about God's forgiveness, I find that when I think I am asking God to forgive me I am often in reality (unless I watch myself very carefully) asking Him to do something quite different. I am asking him not to forgive me but to excuse me. But there is all the difference in the world between forgiving and excusing. Forgiveness says, "Yes, you have done this thing, but I accept your apology; I will never hold it against you and everything between us two will be exactly as it was before." If one was not really to blame then there is nothing to forgive. In that sense forgiveness and excusing are almost opposites. Of course, in dozens of cases, either between God and man, or between one man and another, there may be a mixture of the two. Part of what at first seemed to be the sins turns out to be really nobody's fault and is excused; the bit that is left over is forgiven. If you had a perfect excuse, you would not need forgiveness; if the whole of your actions needs forgiveness, then there was no excuse for it. But the trouble is that what we call "asking God's forgiveness" very often really consists in asking God to accept our excuses. What leads us into this mistake is the fact that there usually is some amount of excuse, some "extenuating circumstances." We are so very anxious to point these things out to God (and to ourselves) that we are apt to forget the very important thing; that is, the bit left over, the bit which excuses don't cover, the bit which is inexcusable but not, thank God, unforgivable. And if we forget this, we shall go away imagining that we have repented and been forgiven when all that has really happened is that we have satisfied ourselves without own excuses. They may be very bad excuses; we are all too easily satisfied about ourselves.

There are two remedies for this danger. One is to remember that God knows all the real excuses very much better than we do. If there are real "extenuating circumstances" there is no fear that He will overlook them. Often He must know many excuses that we have never even thought of, and therefore humble souls will, after death, have the delightful surprise of discovering that on certain occasions they sinned much less than they thought. All the real excusing He will do. What we have got to take to Him is the inexcusable bit, the sin. We are only wasting our time talking about all the parts which can (we think) be excused. When you go to a Dr. you show him the bit of you that is wrong - say, a broken arm. It would be a mere waste of time to keep on explaining that your legs and throat and eyes are all right. You may be mistaken in thinking so, and anyway, if they are really right, the doctor will know that.

The second remedy is really and truly to believe in the forgiveness of sins. A great deal of our anxiety to make excuses comes from not really believing in it, from thinking that God will not take us to Himself again unless He is satisfied that some sort of case can be made out in our favor. But that is not forgiveness at all. Real forgiveness means looking steadily at the sin, the sin that is left over without any excuse, after all allowances have been made, and seeing it in all its horror, dirt, meanness, and malice, and nevertheless being wholly reconciled to the man who has done it.

When it comes to a question of our forgiving other people, it is partly the same and partly different. It is the same because, here also forgiving does not mean excusing. Many people seem to think it does. They think that if you ask them to forgive someone who has cheated or bullied them you are trying to make out that there was really no cheating or bullying. But if that were so, there would be nothing to forgive. (This doesn't mean that you must necessarily believe his next promise. It does mean that you must make every effort to kill every taste of resentment in your own heart - every wish to humiliate or hurt him or to pay him out.) The difference between this situation and the one in which you are asking God's forgiveness is this. In our own case we accept excuses too easily, in other people's we do not accept them easily enough. As regards my own sins it is a safe bet (though not a certainty) that the excuses are not really so good as I think; as regards other men's sins against me it is a safe bet (though not a certainty) that the excuses are better than I think. One must therefore begin by attending to everything which may show that the other man was not so much to blame as we thought. But even if he is absolutely fully to blame we still have to forgive him; and even if ninety-nine per cent of his apparent guilt can be explained away by really good excuses, the problem of forgiveness begins with the one per cent of guilt that is left over. To excuse, what can really produce good excuses is not Christian charity; it is only fairness. To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable, because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you.

This is hard. It is perhaps not so hard to forgive a single great injury. But to forgive the incessant provocations of daily life - to keep on forgiving the bossy mother-in-law, the bullying husband, the nagging wife, the selfish daughter, the deceitful son - How can we do it? Only, I think, by remembering where we stand, by meaning our words when we say in our prayers each night "Forgive our trespasses* as we forgive those that trespass against us." We are offered forgiveness on no other terms. To refuse it is to refuse God's mercy for ourselves. There is no hint of exceptions and God means what He says. 

Monday, January 20, 2014

禱告漫談(3)



C. S. Lewis在《Work and Prayer作為與禱告》和《The Efficacy of Prayer禱告的功效》中都提到了巴斯卡Pascal對請願祈求式的禱告的看法。巴斯卡認為:這種禱告的設立,是因為神要借給人在因果關係中的尊嚴。意思是:讓人覺得會有那樣的結果,是因為他的禱告來的。

我大大的不認同巴斯卡的說法,我承認人的確是缺乏不少的品行,唯一不缺的就是這種因果關係中的尊嚴,少了也沒啥關係。

我認識的一位大牧師(不是大法師),幾年前帶了一些人到大陸的偏遠地方短宣,根據這些人的見證,確實發生了一些醫病趕鬼的神蹟。等到回來以後,還想依法泡製,結果啥也沒有,所以大牧師到處跟人講:「奇怪?不靈了!」你說奇怪不奇怪?你要說給我聽?還是我來說給你們聽?這跟禱告又有什麼關係?

Lewis在《作為與禱告》一文中這麼說:能使我們導致事件發生的兩種方法,可以稱為作為和禱告。兩者在這一方面是一致的—— 我們試著經由兩者來造成一種事態,這個事態,神不 (或無論如何尚未) 認為應該由祂自己來提供。從這個觀點來看,古訓作為就是禱告laborare est orare’呈現出一個新的含義。當我們在田裡鋤草的作為,和我們祈求豐收的作為是沒有什麼太大的不同

神憐憫人,所以經由人的醫療作為,使人的病痛得醫治;但是人還是得死,這也是神的命定。Lewis在《禱告的功效》裡描述的一位患了骨癌的臨終(只剩幾個月可活的)婦人,其實就是他的妻子Joy;在那一篇文章裡,Lewis見證了因為禱告祈求,結果一年後她康復了;大家(包括見過X光片的醫生和Lewis)都認為是神蹟。但是再一年後Joy又病發,去世了(Lewis的《A Grief Observed 卿卿如晤》)

** 沒完沒了

Sunday, January 19, 2014

禱告漫談(2)



C. S. Lewis的那篇《Work and Prayer, 我先把標題翻譯成 “工作與禱告”;等過了一大半以後,越來越覺得 Work 應該是 “行為”,類似 “行為與信心” “因信稱義”、 “因行為稱義” 等等。最後決定 “作為與禱告” 比較妥當,因為是有目的行為。

在第一段裡,第一人稱的我,不是指Lewis本人,那是一種寫作手法,有個持“禱告無用論”的人,以提問的方式來陳述他自己的論述。有些反對Lewis的人,只看文章的一、二段,就把Lewis定位為反對禱告的人,把他罵翻了天;很奇怪,那些人的文章,經常是寫成黑底白字,或黑底紅字,還沒讀就覺得很難過,不像我的文章——色調優美,賞心悅目。

所謂的“禱告無用論”是立論於神的全知和美善慈愛的本質,針對想用禱告來改變神的作為的人,在你沒開口前,神都知道什麼是對你最好的,該不該給,該不該做的都已經定了,所以這類祈求請願式的禱告是多餘的。有這種論調的人真聰明,把神的底細摸得一清二楚,太聰明太會算計,以致於冷漠無情,使得人與神之間的情誼和愛都不見了。完全的愛是雙方的自主互動,施予的愛和需求的愛互相配搭,才成就了愛的完整性,也呈現於感人的禱告之中。

持著“禱告無用論”的人,不知道禱告的過程,與神交通的過程會使一個人的靈命成長,認識神和愛神的程度增加,神要給予的恩賜和恩福也大大的不同;這些叫做聰明反被聰明誤,也是始料未及。

在前一篇的末了提到了,我們把禱告定義為人與神的交往;根據禱告的內容,可以有祈求、請願、認錯、悔改、崇拜、同在、願景和享受神等等。有人反對祈求和請願的禱告,或許還不打緊,一竿子打翻了認錯、悔改和讚美神等等的禱告,那就完了蛋了;有人要我不要恐嚇人,所以點到就好了。

耶穌曾經提到:有人對祂叫:「主啊! 主啊!」祂說:「你是誰?我不認識你

這是個很尷尬的場景,但是一而再,再而三的發生在許多禱告中,這就是Lewis所謂純粹幻想的禱告,因為在這個本應該是人與神的交往中,認錯了神,神是聽到了你的禱告,但是祂不認為你是在說給祂聽的,有時候,連我都會認為那不是說給祂聽的,傷啊!

認識神,禱告才得垂聽(才不會弄錯對象),經常禱告才更認識神,認識有深淺,交情也有多寡,不是嗎?不要以為我又在胡說八道,不聽老人言,吃虧在眼前。

** 沒完沒了

禱告漫談(1)



最近翻譯了幾篇 C. S. Lewis 有關禱告的文章,因為是中英對照,儘量要忠於原著,所以有好些地方,雖然我已經了解作者的本意,但是經我這麼一個轉折,有些讀者可能會會錯意;禱告對每一位基督徒是很重要的靈命表達,不是表演給人看或說給人聽,而是把神當成是你敬愛的老闆和知心的好友,和祂盡情傾心的交談。

這裡要談的禱告是侷限於基督徒的禱告,因為傾聽禱告的,是唯一全知(無所不知)、全能(無所不能)、無所不在、公義慈愛、創造宇宙萬物,又差遣祂的愛子耶穌基督來拉拔、拯救世人的那位神。

我們的心靈是超越時空的限制的,所以思緒有時會一下子湧出好多好多,有時會飛得很遠很遠,跟神的對談,因為是心靈的對話,所以是可以天南地北,無所不包;不像要說給人聽,寫給人看的等一等:「你說拉拔什麼東西? 誰拉拔誰啊?

因為是漫談,所以我不在意隨興的插嘴或提問。我用拉拔這個用語,對應的是人的墮落;人墮落的景況有兩種,一種叫自甘墮落,換言之:「我高興,你怎麼樣?」另一種是覺得不好,但是無法自拔;兩者都會越陷越深,前者越陷越跋扈;後者越陷越痛苦,有時會向神呼求:「救救我吧!」或者抱怨:「神啊!祢不是人,祢不知道我們的痛楚!」所以神子成了肉身,領受了人間最大的苦楚,為的是拉我們一把 (以上是我的體驗,如果你們要看,我可以寫一篇《我的墮落》,或者你們比較喜歡像希特勒那樣的《我的奮鬥》)

在我追求認識基督徒靈命成長的前期,最令我感到困難的:一.是對聖靈的體驗,二.是對禱告的困惑。在第一個聚會裡,有人開口禱告的音調,會因為有客人在場而提高八度;在第二個聚會裡,有人會很有權威的,突然的要求某個人做個禱告;這種場景,給每個人都帶來了壓力;慢慢的有樣學樣,就有小猴子(好像是我),學大猴子的口吻,突然的要大猴子也來做個禱告;所以每次的聚會都在搞這種飛機,越搞越劇烈一直到有一天,大猴子命令年高德邵的師母(牧師早去世了) 做個禱告,師母說:「我現在不想說禱告給你聽」我大聲說:「阿門!」就這樣結束了一場禱告突擊戰。(哪天我要讓師母看這篇文章,或者你們也可以要我寫一篇《大猴子的墮落》)

我不知你們是否看過“屋頂上的提琴手Fiddler on the Roof”這部百老匯歌劇改編的電影? 20啷當歲的時候,第一次在台灣的電影院裡看得不知所云,只能說是看了就睡,醒了又睡只是很喜歡裡面的那些歌曲。等到自己50多歲變成了基督徒以後,在電視裡再看嚇,那位有3個女兒的俄國沙皇末期的猶太佬,不論是沒事幹,或是遇到煩惱,或是女兒的婚事給他麻煩,他總是在那兒喃喃自語,又說又唱的,原來都是在跟神禱告。當他們的村子被俄國暴民搶劫以後,他對神說:「老天哪!當了祢的選民有什麼好處?我們一天都沒啥好日子過,祢可以不可以撿選那些俄國佬當祢的選民,也讓我們歇歇氣?」他不時的禱告,24小時,無論何時何地都在禱告我們跟神有親密到那種程度嗎?

你們或許要說:「嘿,舉例子舉到電影裡去了,難道你沒有真實的例子嗎?」有,是一個老美長者,他娓娓的與神道來,談論我們身邊發生的事情,讓我們感覺到那位全知全能慈愛的神就在我們的身邊,我們所認知的神也在傾聽我們的告白;至於其他不知所云的,好像對象是一團什麼的,如果不是在虛無飄渺間,就是根本不存在,因為我知道神的存在,所以我知道那些人的禱告並不使人感到神的存在。當然這是我主觀的判斷。

Lewis在《The Efficacy of Prayer禱告的功效》裡說到:禱告若不是純粹的幻想,就是幼稚、不完全個體的人類和最具體的神之間的交往。請願、祈求東西只是禱告的一小部分;認錯和悔改是它的門檻,崇拜是它的聖所,同在、願景和享受神是它的麵包和酒。(有疑問嗎?)

有人問我,她不太清楚這裡在講什麼,所以我在電話裡詳細的解釋給她聽,但是其他的人都清楚了,我也不用再多囉唆了。

**接禱告漫談(2)

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Work and Prayer 作為與禱告


Work and Prayer
作為與禱告
C. S. Lewis
1945
Bill Lin

縱使我接受你的觀點,而且承認對禱告的回應在理論上是說得通的,我還是認為它們是絕對不可能的。我不相信,神會需要那些從我們人類來的不了解狀況(而且矛盾)的建言來運轉這個世界。正如你所說的,假設祂是全知的神,難道祂不是已經知道什麼是最好的?而且假設祂是全善的,不管我們祈不祈求,祂不就是這麼做了嗎?

在近百年中,這一個對禱告持著相反看法的提問,嚇壞了許多人。通常的回答是:它只是針對著那一類最低層次的禱告,那種只有一廂情願的祈求。據說,比較高檔的禱告,沒有跟神建議,只是跟祂溝通溝通;那些持有這種看法的人,好像暗示:較低檔的禱告,是胡說八道,只有小孩子和野蛮人才那樣子做。

我從不滿意這種看法。這兩類禱告的區別是很明顯的;整體說來(我不很肯定),那一類不要求任何東西的,是比較高檔或更先進的。當你能和神的旨意一致,而不要去改變事件的過程——縱使你可以那樣子做;這樣子的意境,當然是一個很高或先進的狀況了。

不過,假使有人這麼簡單的把低檔的排除在外,馬上就出現了兩個難題:首先,他必須說:整個歷史傳統的基督徒的禱告(包括主禱文本身)都是錯的;因為它一直容許祈求日用的飲食,病患得康復,免受敵害的保護,外界的轉化,等等。

其次,雖然另一類的禱告或許比較高檔,假如你侷限自己只做這種禱告,是因為你已經沒有使用其他類的禱告的慾望;關於不去做祈求類的禱告,只因為你認為他們是沒用的,這就沒什麼特別 “高級” 或“屬靈的”。假如一個男孩從不要求蛋糕,因為他是如此的高品味和屬靈的,他不要任何蛋糕,這或許是個好事(不過我還是很不確定)。但是,一個男孩從不要求蛋糕,因為他已經知道要也沒有用,這就沒什麼特別叫好的了。

反對祈求禱告(我指“低檔”或老式的那一類)的說法是這樣的:你所祈求的東西或者是好的——對你和全世界一般說來——或者不是好的。假如它是好的,一個美善全知的神,不論如何就會去做它;假如它是不好的,祂就不做它。你的禱告兩邊都不起作用。要是這種論調是正確的,它不但可以用來反對禱告,不也可以用來反對做任何事嗎?

在每個作為裡,正如在每個禱告上,你都試著要帶出某種結果;這結果有好有壞。那為什麼我們不像禱告的反對者那樣說:假如預期的結果是好的,用不著你的干擾,神就會讓它通過;假如它是不好的,不管你做什麼,祂都不會讓它發生,不是嗎?為什麼要洗手?假如神要它們乾淨,你不用洗,它們也會變得乾淨。假使祂不想讓它們乾淨,它們會仍舊污穢 (如同麥克白夫人 Lady MacBeth發現的) ——不管你洗了多少肥皂。所以為什麼要鹽巴? 為什麼要穿鞋? 為什麼要做事?

我們知道,我們可以有作為,我們的作為會產生結果。所以每個信神的人必須承認(和禱告的問題大不相同),神並沒有選擇用祂的手來寫整本歷史。宇宙裡進行的絕大部分的事情的確不是我們所能控制,但並非全部。就像在一部戲劇裡,作者決定了場景和故事的大致輪廓,但是某些小的細節就留著讓演員們即興發揮。祂為什麼居然會讓我們去導致實際事件的發生,或許是個謎,但是祂會讓我們藉著禱告去導致那些事情的發生而非藉著其他的方式,更是不可思議。

巴斯卡Pascal說:「神設定了禱告,為的是使祂的所造物能有因果關係裡的尊嚴。」如果說成:祂為了那個目的,發明了禱告和實際行動,或許更加真實。祂把體面給了我們小小的被造物,使我們能經由兩個不同方式,參與到事件的過程。祂使得我們對宇宙的事情能(在那些極限裡) 有所作為;這就是為何我們可以洗我們自己的手,而且可以餵養或謀害我們的同胞。同樣地,祂定下了祂自己的歷史計畫或情節,使得它容許多少數量的自由發揮,而且可以因應我們的禱告而可以有所修改。假如祈求打勝仗 (在戰場上神應該是知道得最清楚的) 是愚蠢而且放肆,那麼穿上雨衣也應該是同等的愚蠢和放肆—— 神不也是最清楚你是否該濕淋淋的嗎?

能使我們導致事件發生的兩種方法,可以稱為作為和禱告。兩者在這一方面是一致的—— 我們試著經由兩者來造成一種事態,這個事態,神不 (或無論如何尚未) 認為應該“由祂自己”來提供。從這個觀點來看,古訓“作為就是禱告laborare est orare”呈現出一個新的含義。當我們在田裡鋤草的作為,和我們祈求豐收的作為是沒有什麼太大的不同。但是有一個不同點,對兩者都很重要。

無論你怎麼努力耕種田地,你無法確定是否有豐收。但是你可以確定,假如你拔了一棵野草,田裡就少了那一棵野草。你可以確定,假如你喝了過量的酒精,一定會毀了你的健康;或者,假如你們持續好幾個世紀,不斷的透過戰爭和奢華的浪費地球的資源,你們將會縮短整個人類的生命。

我們藉著作為所演練出的因果關係,可以這麼說,是神確定的,所以是無情的。藉著它我們為所欲為可以盡情的殘害我們自己。但是這種藉著禱告所演練出的因果關係,就不像那樣;神給自己預留裁量權。假如祂不這麼做,禱告會是一種過度危險而不適於人類的活動,而且會出現像韋納爾Juvenal所預見的可怕的事態:「這種過份的祈求,老天爺也只好憤怒的應允了。」

禱告不常得到 —— 按著粗糙實質的字義 —— “應允”。這並不是因為禱告是一種較弱的因果關係,反而因為是較強的那類。當它一旦成就時,它不受時空的限制。這就是為什麼神要保留應允或拒絕的裁量權;除了那禱告是要毀滅我們的例外情況。當一位校長說:「根據校規,你們可以做這些事情;但是某些其他的事情因為太危險了,所以不能當成普通規條處理。假如你要做那些事情,你必須來申請,在專案裡告訴我整件事的來龍去脈;然後——我們再看要怎麼辦。」不能說他不講理。

Even if I grant your point and admit that answers to prayer are theoretically possible, I shall still think they are infinitely improbable. I don’t think it at all likely that God requires the ill-informed (and contradictory) advice of us humans as to how to run the world. If He is all-wise, as you say He is, doesn’t He know already what is best? And if He is all-good, won’t He do it whether we pray or not?

This is the case against prayer which has, in the last hundred years, intimidated thousands of people. The usual answer is that it applies only to the lowest sort of prayer, the sort that consists in asking for things to happen. The higher sort, we are told, offers no advice to God; it consists only of “communication”…with Him; and those who take this line seem to suggest that the lower kind of prayer really is an absurdity and that only children and savages would use it.

I have never been satisfied with this view. The distinction between the two sorts of prayer is a sound one; and I think on the whole (I am not quite certain) that the sort which asks for nothing is the higher or more advanced. To be in the state in which you are so at one with the will of God that you wouldn’t want to alter the course of events even if you could is certainly a very high or advanced condition.

But if one simply rules out the lower kind, two difficulties follow. In the first place, one has to say that the whole historical tradition of Christian prayer (including the Lord’s Prayer itself) has been wrong; for it has always admitted prayers for our daily bread, for the recovery of the sick, for protection from enemies, for the conversion of the outside world, and the like. In the second place, though the other kind of prayer may be “higher” if you restrict yourself to it because you have got beyond the desire to use any other, there is nothing especially “high” or “spiritual” about abstaining from prayers that make requests simply because you think they’re no good. It might be a pretty thing (but, again, I’m not absolutely certain) if a boy never asked for cake because he was so high-minded and spiritual that he didn’t want any cake. But there’s nothing especially pretty about a boy who doesn’t ask because he has learned that it is no use asking. I think that the whole matter needs reconsideration.

The case against prayer (I mean the “low” or old-fashioned kind) is this: The thing you ask for is either good for you and for the whole world in general or else it is not. If it is, then a good and wise God will do it anyway. If it is not, then He won’t. In neither case can your prayer make any difference. But if this argument is sound, surely it is an argument not only against praying, but against doing anything whatever?

In every action, just as in every prayer, you are trying to bring about a certain result; and this result must be good or bad. Why, then, do we not argue as the opponents of prayer argue, and say that if the intended result is good, God will bring it to pass without your interference, and that if it is bad, He will prevent it happening whatever you do? Why wash your hands? If God intends them to be clean, they’ll come clean without your washing them. If He doesn’t, they’ll remain dirty (as Lady MacBeth found) however much soap you use. Why ask for the salt? Why put on your boots? Why do anything?

We know that we can act and that our actions produce results. Everyone who believes in God must therefore admit (quite apart from the question of prayer) that God has not chosen to write the whole history with His own hand. Most of the events that go on in the universe are indeed out of our control, but not all. It is like a play in which the scene and the general outline of the story is fixed by the author, but certain minor details are left for the actors to improvise. It may be a mystery why He should have allowed us to cause real events at all, but it is no odder that He should allow us to cause them by praying than by any other method.

Pascal says that God “instituted prayer in order to allow His creatures the dignity of causality.” It would perhaps be truer to say that He invented both prayer and physical action for that purpose. He gave us small creatures the dignity of being able to contribute to the course of events in two different ways. He made the matter of the universe such that we can (in those limits) do things to it; that is why we can wash our own hands and feed or murder our fellow creatures. Similarly, He made His own plan or plot of history such that it admits a certain amount of free play and can be modified in response to our prayers. If it is foolish and impudent to ask for victory in war (on the ground that God might be expected to know best), it would be equally foolish and impudent to put on a raincoat does not God know best whether you ought to be wet or dry?

The two methods by which we are allowed to produce events may be called work and prayer. Both are alike in this respect – that in both we try to produce a state of affairs which God has not (or at any rate not yet) seen fit to provide “on His own”. And from this point of view the old maxim laborare est orare (work is prayer) takes on a new meaning. What we do when we weed a field is not quite different from what we do when we pray for a good harvest. But there is an important difference all the same.

You cannot be sure of a good harvest whatever you do to a field. But you can be sure that if you pull up one weed that one weed will no longer be there. You can be sure that if you drink more than a certain amount of alcohol you will ruin your health or that if you go on for a few centuries more wasting the resources of the planet on wars and luxuries you will shorten the life of the whole human race. The kind of causality we exercise by work is, so to speak, divinely guaranteed, and therefore ruthless. By it we are free to do ourselves as much harm as we please. But the kind which we exercise by prayer is not like that; God has left Himself discretionary power. Had He not done so, prayer would be an activity too dangerous for man and should have the horrible state of things envisaged by Juvenal: “Enormous prayers which Heaven in anger grants.”

Prayers are not always in the crude, factual sense of the word “granted.” This is not because prayer is a weaker kind of causality, but because it is a stronger kind. When it “works” at all it works unlimited by space and time. That is why God has retained a discretionary power of granting or refusing it; except on that condition prayer would destroy us. It is not unreasonable for a headmaster to say, “Such and such things you may do according to the fixed rules of this school. But such and such other things are too dangerous to be left to general rules. If you want to do them you must come and make a request and talk over the whole matter with me in my study. And then we’ll see.”