okieinexile
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Minor Miracles
Or
Butterflies, Prophets, and Captain Call
By Bobby Neal Winters
My wife raises butterflies this time of year. We have an herb garden out in our backyard, and she watches the butterflies come, light, and lay their eggs. Then she brings them into the house and feeds them parsley. She also talks to them as she feeds them, and I am not sure of the efficacy of this, but who am I to say? I’ve never raised a butterfly.
They go into the chrysalis as chubby little creatures. Soft, striped, and round on either end, utterly simple in their construction, but when they come out, they are marvels of complexity. Their chrysalises crack, they struggle out, and after their wings dry, they can fly. I’ve seen them do this. My wife and daughters take them out into the back yard on sunny afternoons and turn them loose. They know how to fly. They don’t go to classes. We’ve never seen them sneak off to a little butterfly college. They exit the chrysalis, dry their wings, and fly.
I’ve wondered if any part of this process is painful and what pain would even mean in the world of the caterpillar/butterfly. One might think that the struggle to get out of the chrysalis could be frustrating, but then what would a butterfly know? This is just what butterflies do.
What if a butterfly were to decide not to break its chrysalis because it didn’t want to bear the frustration? Maybe some of them do, but then we don’t see them. They stay in their small, frustration-free world and die. The butterflies that make it into the open air and fly away are called there by God. There might be other language to state this in, but none that is more accurate.
I believe that God calls people out in the same way. Like the butterfly, we each have a chrysalis. It is a perfect incubator and a deadly trap, all at the same time. If we always remain comfortable, we will die without getting to dry our wings in the sun, much less fly.
Man is a creature who is much less in tune with his natural self than is the butterfly. According to scripture, there was a time when man was at harmony with creation and when he could hear God’s voice with ease, but that is certainly long passed.
The Bible tells of people whom God called. These are the prophets. They were all willing to do what God said, but none of them was eager. In connection with this, I’ve been thinking particularly these last few days of a man from the Bible named Gideon.
Gideon was called into service by God in the days Israel was ruled by judges. He wasn’t exactly a prophet, as he was called by God into action rather than speech, but the call was similar. He was approached by an angel of the Lord when while he was threshing his wheat in a winepress so that the foreign invaders couldn’t get it. Gideon was a man who did bold, passionate things, but he was a man of great caution at the same time. On one hand, he destroyed the altar his father had made to the pagan god Baal, but on the other, he required a sign before he did this. He later defeated a much superior force of Midianites with a small group of dedicated men, but he required not only a sign but also a confirmation of that sign before he did.
Gideon is a model of rationality controlling the passions rather than being their servant, and this is something which I would like to attain, but it is hard. Rather than learn to control my passions, it would be easier just to do nothing.
Our passions energize us, but if they aren’t tempered by rationality, they will destroy us. A fire too small isn’t worth having, but one that is not controlled will burn down the forest.
In the book—and later the miniseries—Lonesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry, the character Captain Call gives us an example of discipline mastering passion. It is McMurtry’s insight that many men bury their demons by work and activity, subduing them by tasks accomplished and the fatigue gained in accomplishing them. The work itself is passion channeled by rationality.
This struggle between rationality and passion is a necessary part of our growth. In some ways, rationality would seek to keep us in the chrysalis because of all of the dangers that lie on the other side, and passion is what pushes us out, in spite of the danger.
My wife is now down to one chrysalis waiting to hatch and one caterpillar munching happily away on parsley, but the days are growing shorter and cooler, so I don’t know if they will make it.
(Bobby Winters is a professor of mathematics, writer, and speaker. You can e-mail him at bobby@okieinexile.com and visit his webpage at www.okieinexile.com. )
Or
Butterflies, Prophets, and Captain Call
By Bobby Neal Winters
My wife raises butterflies this time of year. We have an herb garden out in our backyard, and she watches the butterflies come, light, and lay their eggs. Then she brings them into the house and feeds them parsley. She also talks to them as she feeds them, and I am not sure of the efficacy of this, but who am I to say? I’ve never raised a butterfly.
They go into the chrysalis as chubby little creatures. Soft, striped, and round on either end, utterly simple in their construction, but when they come out, they are marvels of complexity. Their chrysalises crack, they struggle out, and after their wings dry, they can fly. I’ve seen them do this. My wife and daughters take them out into the back yard on sunny afternoons and turn them loose. They know how to fly. They don’t go to classes. We’ve never seen them sneak off to a little butterfly college. They exit the chrysalis, dry their wings, and fly.
I’ve wondered if any part of this process is painful and what pain would even mean in the world of the caterpillar/butterfly. One might think that the struggle to get out of the chrysalis could be frustrating, but then what would a butterfly know? This is just what butterflies do.
What if a butterfly were to decide not to break its chrysalis because it didn’t want to bear the frustration? Maybe some of them do, but then we don’t see them. They stay in their small, frustration-free world and die. The butterflies that make it into the open air and fly away are called there by God. There might be other language to state this in, but none that is more accurate.
I believe that God calls people out in the same way. Like the butterfly, we each have a chrysalis. It is a perfect incubator and a deadly trap, all at the same time. If we always remain comfortable, we will die without getting to dry our wings in the sun, much less fly.
Man is a creature who is much less in tune with his natural self than is the butterfly. According to scripture, there was a time when man was at harmony with creation and when he could hear God’s voice with ease, but that is certainly long passed.
The Bible tells of people whom God called. These are the prophets. They were all willing to do what God said, but none of them was eager. In connection with this, I’ve been thinking particularly these last few days of a man from the Bible named Gideon.
Gideon was called into service by God in the days Israel was ruled by judges. He wasn’t exactly a prophet, as he was called by God into action rather than speech, but the call was similar. He was approached by an angel of the Lord when while he was threshing his wheat in a winepress so that the foreign invaders couldn’t get it. Gideon was a man who did bold, passionate things, but he was a man of great caution at the same time. On one hand, he destroyed the altar his father had made to the pagan god Baal, but on the other, he required a sign before he did this. He later defeated a much superior force of Midianites with a small group of dedicated men, but he required not only a sign but also a confirmation of that sign before he did.
Gideon is a model of rationality controlling the passions rather than being their servant, and this is something which I would like to attain, but it is hard. Rather than learn to control my passions, it would be easier just to do nothing.
Our passions energize us, but if they aren’t tempered by rationality, they will destroy us. A fire too small isn’t worth having, but one that is not controlled will burn down the forest.
In the book—and later the miniseries—Lonesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry, the character Captain Call gives us an example of discipline mastering passion. It is McMurtry’s insight that many men bury their demons by work and activity, subduing them by tasks accomplished and the fatigue gained in accomplishing them. The work itself is passion channeled by rationality.
This struggle between rationality and passion is a necessary part of our growth. In some ways, rationality would seek to keep us in the chrysalis because of all of the dangers that lie on the other side, and passion is what pushes us out, in spite of the danger.
My wife is now down to one chrysalis waiting to hatch and one caterpillar munching happily away on parsley, but the days are growing shorter and cooler, so I don’t know if they will make it.
(Bobby Winters is a professor of mathematics, writer, and speaker. You can e-mail him at bobby@okieinexile.com and visit his webpage at www.okieinexile.com. )
Relaxing occupation.