A Place for Reason

In recent years, many children's movies declare one overt message, "follow your heart."  However, rarely is the question asked, "what if my heart is leading me down a hurtful path?"  For example, my heart may repeatedly urge me to eat that second piece of cake, or just one more drink, yet reason calls me to moderation.  I may desire to lay sedated on the sofa every evening flipping through the endless selection of channels on television, but logic calls me to exercise and expand my mind through reading.  My heart may prod me to betray a friend in order to save face, yet my mind recalls the value of loyalty and friendship.

Rene Descartes concluded that people have an existence beyond the mere physical body evidenced by the reality that we are thinking, rational beings.  He summarized this philosophy in his famous Latin phrase, "cogito ergo sum" ("I think, therefore, I am").  Descartes reflected, "What is it that I am?  A thinking thing.  What is a thinking thing?  It is a thing that doubts, understands, affirms, denies, wills, abstains from willing, that also can be aware of images and sensations."

To merely "follow your heart" is to deny one's existence as a rational, cognitive being and reduces oneself to a mere physical creature prone to whims of passion and actions devoid of sound judgment.  An ancient Hebrew proverb states, "the mind of one who has understanding seeks knowledge."

As Professor Digory in C. S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia put it, "Logic! Why don't they teach logic at these schools?"

Divine Appointments

            You drive hurriedly to an appointment.  The traffic light changes to yellow, the car positioned right on the brink—that place where you could go either way.  Speed up or stop?  You need to make a split second decision.  Your right foot rapidly moves to the break pedal, bringing the car to a sudden halt; the light remaining yellow for a moment longer.  “I could have made it!” you think to yourself as you hit the steering wheel in frustration.  Regaining composure, you observe the people around you.

            The man beside you adjusts his seat.  Across the intersection a woman uses her mirror to apply the final coats of makeup.  To the right, a nicely dressed young woman talks with intensity on her cell phone.  “Looks important; must be a high-powered business executive closing a deal or checking her stocks,” you think to yourself, “or maybe she is just ordering take-out.” 

            To the left, you hear something like the sound of repeated cannon fire.  Looking, you notice a teen bobbing his head to the rhythm of the bass echoing through the streets.  “Was I really that young when I started driving?”  You ponder in amazement, forgetting the amount of time passed since your sixteenth birthday.  “At least we had good music back then,” you conclude with a gleam of nostalgia in your eyes.  In your mirror you notice the frazzled woman behind you checking her hair, talking on the cell phone, writing vigorous notes, searching through her purse, and hushing the screaming children in the backseat; you offer a prayer, “Lord, help her.”

            The light shifts back to green.  You drive on, never giving another thought to the people you examined at the intersection.  I wonder what would have happened if you just drove through the light, never stopping to notice the people at the crossroads.  Is your life somehow different because of the encounter you experienced?  Did you learn something about yourself in what you observed in another?  Were the lives of the others impacted because you stopped? 

            I sometimes ask myself, how detailed is God?  Does He orchestrate the timing of those intersection encounters?  In a store, does God choose the checkout line for us, ordaining that our lives intersect with another’s in a significant way?  Did God choose our neighbors and co-workers; does He arrange who we pass by on the street?  Is my mail carrier or paper deliverer appointed by God to my house?

            I am not trying to solve the age-old debate of predestination vs. free will, but what if those moments in time where our lives intersect with others truly are prearranged by God?  I imagine our conversations would transform into something more meaningful, our attitudes would shift from impatience to serenity when the cashier orders a price check for the person in front of us, and criticism would give way to intercession.  Perhaps we would speak more boldly, or maybe serve more humbly.

            What if God is that detailed in His plan!  Perhaps life at the intersection can have significance.