Lent 2022 – The Woman and the Cave Week 1 – Introduction

Anyone who has common sense will remember that the bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into the light. 

Plato’s Cave

Kristen Wheeler, author of this Journey relates that it all started with a vision. I have had precisely one vision or experience that I could attribute to God. I have a friend who pointed out that a vivid dream I had probably 20 years ago was also a God-thing.  I’m a little thick when it comes to recognizing visions or theophanies (great word, look it up).  I had a colleague who suggested that regardless of whether you have one or dozens of visions, the challenge is to figure out why that vision, why that time, why you.  It’s between you and God, and there’s nothing accidental about the timing or content. It’s tempting to put such visions in a display case, and store them away as amazing events without evaluating or digging into them. I believe we lose the importance then. 

My single self-identified vision resulted in a lengthy search for meaning, and the eventual acknowledgment of God’s call to me as a deacon.  Visions matter and should be explored. What do you think about visions? Have you had any and what resulted?

This reflective journey relies partly on Plato’s “The Allegory of the Cave”.  If you haven’t looked into it at all, I’d recommend you do. If you’ve been following me for any time, you know I am definitely not cut out for philosophy of any kind; it almost makes my head hurt.  But wanting to dig deep into this journey (mostly for my interest in Mary Magdalene), I read and wrestled with The Cave. 

I will certainly not do it justice, but it’s important to understand the allegory a little.  Here’s my best attempt.  

• Some people are captive in a cave. They’re chained so they face a wall, and cannot look at anything but the wall.  Behind them is a low wall, a walkway, and a fire, in that order. 

• Other people walk on the walkway, and carry things. The wall is high enough that it obscures the people, but not what they’re carrying. Because of the fire behind the walkway, the objects that are carried are shadowed on the wall in front of the captives. They cannot see the people walking, just the shadows of what they’re carrying. 

• All the captives know is the shadows of the objects. They do not know and cannot see the objects themselves, nor the people. 

*  (Carter’s aha about this)  We spend much time chained to a wall. We see shadows on the wall and think it’s a real thing. It’s not. It’s just a shadow of a secondary thing – we don’t even see the people walking. Just shadows of what they’re carrying. We think it’s all there is.  We perceive shadows of things as reality. It’s not. 

• One prisoner is freed, and turns around, sees the fire and realizes that the shadows are not real, or at least they’re only hints at what is real. He figures this out all without leaving the cave, and just by turning around and seeing the fire and the people walking. 

• The freed prisoner leaves the cave and momentarily is blinded by the light.  Eventually, his eyes adjust and he realizes that his epiphany about reality in the cave is nothing, compared to the reality outside the cave. He marvels at the new, bright reality outside the cave. 

• The freed captive returns to the cave to describe what he’s seen and experienced in turning around, and in leaving the cave. 

• When he enters the cave, the darkness temporarily blinds him, and he cannot see. 

• The remaining wall-facing captives believe that whatever is outside, beyond their very limited world, is what blinded him. They contentedly dismiss notions of “reality” as described by the freed captive, and return to their shadow reality. 

* (Carter’s aha about this) Sometimes I’m the freed captive, who has my moment of clarity. I try to return and share what I’ve seen and experienced. It’s unheeded, because it’s so impossible to relate. I’ve read a similar Sufi story with a punchline something like, an ocean frog could never describe the ocean to a pond frog. 

* Frequently, I’m the captive who doubts and questions a new frightening reality, and instead returns to my certain and unreal notion of the real. 

I can imagine Mary’s literal “come to Jesus” moment, when she saw the light and realized there was a whole different reality than the one she’d previously know. I can imagine her momentary blindness as she reenters the cave, and tries to explain to others what she’s seen. I’m very intrigued in digging deeper into her experience, and how it relates to me.  

What do you think?

Logistical note: If you are interested in commenting but want be anonymous, feel free to message me and I’ll post it anonymously. I want everyone to feel free to comment and share. I believe that if you comment directly on the blog, you can comment anonymously.  Let me know if that’s not the case.