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Making Contracts With God
by Yin Cai Shakya
"If you really want to get God's attention, fast."
Nothing much changes. The recent hoard of buried 7th Century gold objects found at an ancient religious center in England reminds us all of the contracts people make with God to purchase his help. The fifteen hundred objects, all of which were military-related, are thought to be an offering by various Anglo-Saxon leaders to unite and secure a victory over one of the many invasion forces that have tried to claim English territory.
The verse inscribed in Latin on a gold belt is from Chapter 10: Verse 35 of The Book of Numbers in the old Roman Catholic Vulgate:
Whenever the ark set out, Moses would say, "Arise, O Lord, that your enemies may be scattered, and those who hate you may flee before you."
Verse 36 completes the transaction:
And when it came to rest, he would say, "Return, O Lord, you who ride upon the clouds, to the troops of Israel."
My twelfth grade Bible teacher had his own Baptist version. Since we had no gold from which we could divest ourselves as "consideration" of the contract, he thought it would be just as good to sacrifice something we had and did treasure: food. He was an ardent believer that fasting would bring a believer so close to God that the Almighty couldn't help but attend to his problem.
I never disagreed with him. I made many little deals with God during my high school career.
The results were varied. If my recollection serves, one of my most important contracts was: "In exchange for eating nothing but orange juice for two weeks, God will grant me a high enough SAT score to be accepted by George Mason University." I attended a private Baptist high school and God was the hub around-which our lives revolved. We didn't just study, oh no. We prayed. We observed. We congregated. On Wednesdays, after spending the whole day at church, we went back after dinner for evening services. And whenever we wanted anything special, we fasted.
As such, I learned early on that the initial relationship that believers have with The Divine has something of a "Parent/Child" type of dynamic. It's a relationship that specifies that a Benevolent Higher Authority and Grantor of Wishes will reward us for exemplary conduct and punish us for poor conduct.
Nothing was more exemplary than sacrifice. It was never "Ask and ye shall receive." It was always, "Give Something Up and ye shall receive."
I fasted for two weeks subsisting on nothing but orange juice to fulfill my part of the contract. It remained for God to do his. My performance on the Math portion of the exam sucked; but my Verbal score was high enough to pick up the slack. God had not let me down, I was accepted.
Non-believers scoff. They're always sure that believers make many deals with God that don't pan out. Oddly enough, believers don't see results that way. There's an optimism in "Belief" that finds benefit in any result.
I don't know what the Anglo Saxon leaders got in exchange for the gold sword hilts and buckles they buried, so I can't use that example to prove the point. Instead, I'll use a more recent case. Last year an old classmate of mine who happens to work with me made a contract with God in exchange for being able to pay his bills.
He came up to me in the cafeteria and announced, "I'm giving up football." He and I are both Steelers' fans... serious Steelers' fans. I responded, "Wha... Why in hell would you do that?"
He was the greatest, most-dedicated Super-Fan the Steeler Nation has ever produced. I almost choked on the coffee I was drinking.
"Don't try to talk me out of it," he warned. "God and I have already shaken hands on the deal. What's been done can't be undone, my man."
I was coughing hard and waving my hand up and down in his face.
"Yes," he continued, "I gave my Stillers' season-tickets to a guy who works upstairs in Engineering. I cancelled my cable sports package, too. I got rid of all of it because I need help, man, and I want God to really listen to me."
Between coughs and sputters I interjected "I don't know what kind of trouble you're in, but you could be on Death Row and you'd still probably cave before the playoffs!"
"No, man, I'm serious! I want God to listen to me and I can't wait for a more convenient time. I'm giving it all up now!"
My friend is an All-Day, Every-Day, Baptist. Especially since I converted to Zen, we get together often to discuss our religious convictions, and with equal joy and wonderment, our spiritual experiences and the performance of the Steelers.
"What do you want God to listen to you about?" I asked.
He began, "I've got money problems. Big problems." He explained that after his wife had given birth to twins, the decision was made for her to stay home and take care of the babies. It would have cost more to pay for their day-care than she could have earned going to her job.
In the following months, he and his wife did well as new parents. They adjusted their lifestyles to accommodate their new roles. He came home from work and helped with the dinner and dishes, the laundry and other chores. He was proactive. Things at home had been going along swimmingly, except for the finances. They were drowning in debt.
"It's been rough. We've got bills on top of bills. I always appreciated my wife's income and what it did for us. Always. And when she stayed at home with the twins I knew we'd take a hitÉ But I wasn't exactly close in my initial estimate of how big a hit it was gonna' be."
"Best laid plans, man." I said. "No matter how you try to calculate it, you always end up short, no matter what."
"Right! On paper, anything looks good."
I could understand the terms of the contract. I asked, "So you need help paying your bills? A little ÔDivine Intervention?'"
"Yeah! Or a promotion or a better job, maybe even an inheritance from a rich uncle I've never heard of." He replied.
I knew that despite any money problems they had, he and his wife were deeply in love with each other. And they were great parents. Sometimes love makes people too generous with the people they love, but this was not the case with them. The only non-family expenses they budgeted for were his sports and her book club. But unexpected expenses - like a new SUV he had to buy to transport the twins and all their paraphernalia - sent their budget in an accelerating downwards spiral.
"Our money problems are making life stressful," he said, "but they haven't made any cracks in our foundation.... yet." He wanted to correct the situation before it worsened to that degree. "You know as well as I," he reminded me, 'You have to realize that The Problem is bigger than yourself, and that you need help' before you can resolve it"
His realization dictated the terms: he would give up all things associated with football while simultaneously renewing his devotion to God, and the Lord would ferry him across those darkening financial waters and deliver him, his wife, and their twins "to more prosperous shores."
"You better keep wearing your jersey, scarf, beanie hat, and black and yellow striped sweatpants to Wal-Mart on gameday just so The Steeler Nation can rest easy," I suggested. "It would hurt them bad to learn they just lost the man who was arguably their biggest Fan."
Hey, it's The Burgh we live in. And around here, religious devotion or no religious devotion, it's always best to keep up appearances.
I listened intently as he laid-out his rationale. "On Sundays, when the Steelers were home, I'd get my yellow towel and head out the 376 to Heinz Field. If they were away, I'd head out to Beaver Falls to meet the Steeler Army at Zookie's to watch the game on TV. Well, I'm not going to be doing that anymore. No more Fantasy Football games or office pools or any kind of bet. No tail-gate parties. No sports' magazines or sports' pages. No net updates. None of it. I'll be at home, praying and reading my Bible. After I do that, I'll spend time playing with the twins or helping the wife with whatever she needs done. I will be on a complete Football Fast."
"OkayÉ But, what about making a new budget for yourselves, maybe looking over the monthly bills and receipts and figuring out what you can cut back on?" I asked, "just in case..."
"I'm not worried. I'll keep the faith," he said, and then continued, with a wink, "Éwe'll get to that once I'm squared-away with God. I need the direction, first, and then I'll start looking for a promotion or a new job, or finding some hidden treasure."
"I see. In effect, you'll be giving all your attention to God and then you'll wait for Him to weigh-in on your options."
"Yeah, you got it, my man. Covering all my bases. Never limit God, y'know?" He was euphoric at the prospects of fulfilling his contract and getting what he bargained for.
He had said this with such forceful conviction that many people in the cafeteria were curious, looking at us and making comments to each other. We both took notice and laughed.
As he walked away, he shouted, "I'm just pickin' up what he's layin' down."
I changed lunch hours and didn't see him again for several months. When I did, he had just been promoted. His strategy had obviously worked. I asked him how he had managed to pull it off.
"First," he said, "I actually followed through with it. That was the main thing. I didn't watch football for the entire season, including the pre-season. I didn't participate in discussions about football with anyone. I didn't read about it and whenever I thought about it, I'd detour my thoughts onto some Biblical passages. Now, the funny thing," he said, "was that because I didn't go to the games or the sports' bar or make any bets or play Fantasy Football, I had a lot of extra money. And because I really got into my Bible, I felt a calmness come over me. I was trusting in God and I knew that no matter what happened, I'd be fine. I was centered and focussed. I liked feeling that way."
I couldn't argue with that. I knew the feeling, too.
Then he added, "When I was under stress, all I could think about was my financial situation, and this led to destructive thoughts. I'd resent an assignment, figuring it was 'below my pay grade.' I'd ask myself, "What the hell am I doing this for, anyway?" and "What's the damned point of having me do this?" I wondered why I should be working so hard for my boss when nobody appreciated it. We all know the cascade of self-pitying and self-destructive thoughts that gush out of our brains at such times."
But when he was calm and focussed, his attitude changed, he said. He completed projects more rapidly and with better quality results. "Little if anything needed to be corrected, and my work which was ok before, took on the quality of gold. My bosses took notice. I got promoted.
He had one more benefit. He said that he was getting so much out of reading his Bible that he decided to "Take it on the road," and rely on public transit to shuttle him to work every day. Once he wasn't behind the wheel anymore, the traffic that builds-up on 376 didn't bother him. He'd just sit quietly on the bus, reading and praying to himself. At work his thoughts became more creative. He was clearly out of his financial drowning pool.
"So instead of waiting for God to send you a check in the mail," I said, "which would solve all your financial problems, you learned how to solve all of your financial problems, is that it?"
"That's it, my man. You got it! That was the contract. I gave up something I really liked and put my faith in the One who could change my life."
Siddhartha Gautama had a problem he needed to solve. He knew the blessings of the material world, but they weren't enough. He wanted to know the blessings of the spiritual world. He therefore gave up everything he had of material value and sought the teachings of religious philosophers. When he and five other disciples, who had also foregone the pleasures of a high caste existence, acquired all of the wisdom these philosophers had to give, they were still unsatisfied. Their quest had not been fulfilled. Together they set out to find the evasive enlightenment.
Believing that if they sacrificed their time, energy, and comfort, they would be rewarded with success. They tried the disciplines of yoga. They learned to hold their breath and their postures. They learned to withstand pain. Finally, they decided to try fasting.
When Siddhartha was so weak from starvation that he did not have the strength to raise his head, he was seen by a low caste girl from a nearby town who was carrying a pot of thin rice pudding. She came up to him and without saying a word, she picked up his head and cradled it in her arm while she carefully fed him rice pudding. His strength began to return and she left. She had saved his life and he was grateful.
But his five companions were scandalized to think that he had allowed himself to be touched so intimately by a low caste female. There was nothing they could do, they said, but to leave him. They could not afford to be associated with someone who broke the most basic social rules. They abandoned him, and he abandoned his fast. His contract with Providence had been fulfilled. He had received the enlightenment he sought. Love and respect for all people - not for just one's own kind - was needed. Simplicity and not fanaticism was needed. Common Sense and not abstruse philosophical arguments was needed. In fulfilling these needs, one lived out the life of the Spirit.
He would never again countenance the caste system or permit the denigration of women.
He had discovered The Middle Way, The Aryan Path.
