This week we
are looking at chapter 4, “’The Woodcarver’: A Model for Right Action,” in
Parker Palmer’s book, The Active Life. Palmer is drawing on another story by
the ancient Taoist philosopher, Chuang Tzu.
The
Woodcarver.
Khing, the
master carver, made a bell stand
Of prescious
wood. When it was finished,
All who saw
it were astounded. The said it must be
The work of
spirits.
The Prince
of Lu said to the master carver:
“What is
your secret?”
Khling
replied: “I am only a workman:
I have no
secret. There is only this:
When I began
to think about the work you commanded
I guarded my
spirit, did not expend it
On trifles,
that were no to the point.
I fasted in
order to set
My heart at
rest.
After three
days fasting, I had forgotten gain and success.
After five
days
I had
forgotten criticism.
After seven
days
I had
forgotten my body
With all its
limbs.
“By this
time all thought of your Highness
And of the
court had faded away.
All that
might distract me from the work
Had
vanished.
I was
collected in the single thought
Of the bell
stand.
“Then I went
to the forest
To see the
trees in their own natural state.
When the
right tree appeared before my eyes,
The bell
stand also appeared in it, clearly, beyond doubt.
All I had to
do was to put forth my hand
And begin.
“If I had
not met this particular tree
There would
have been
No bell
stand at all.
“What
happened?
My own
collected thought
Encountered
the hidden potential in the wood;
From this
live encounter came the work
Which you
ascribe to the spirits. (55-56)
Palmer suspects that many people will find this story a bit
on the romantic side. Does it really apply to our contemporary work world?
Many people feel hampered by the hierarchies in which we
often must work, by institutional structures that curtail the independence that
we think we need to do our creative best. But few people work in a setting as
demanding as the woodcarver’s. … When I ask Chinese scholars what would have
happened if Khing had failed to produce a bell stand acceptable to the prince,
they usually answer with a sweeping movement of the forefinger across the front
of the throat. (57)
Few of us work under such demanding circumstances and yet
the woodcarver seems to us to take on odd approach in completing his task. Palmer
writes that after years of reflection on this story he sees four “critical junctures”
in the story where an element of work is revealed that we can learn from. “The
four elements are motives, skills and gifts, ‘the other,’ and results.” (58)
Palmer unpacks these four elements during the rest of the chapter.
Motives
Each action has a motive behind it. Khing is not making the
bell stand out of some whimsical desire to create but in response to a command
by the prince. He must do this to survive. This may not be the most desirable
motivation for action but it is what is. However, once the action is set in
motion, Khing has the freedom to choose how he will complete his task. He
begins by fasting to cleanse himself of all the destructive pressures and
motivations that will hinder him from authentically engaging his task. By forgetting
the details of his present context he was able to re-member … join back together
the authentic pieces of his identity … and act out of who he truly was. Palmer
writes:
… If we are to transcend the motives and context that so
often limit and distort our action, we must enter into our versions of fasting,
forgetting, and dying. (64)
As I read this section my mind kept going to this passage in
the Bible:
Col 3:22-24
Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything, not only
while being watched and in order to please them, but wholeheartedly, fearing
the Lord. Whatever your task, put yourselves into it, as done for the Lord and
not for your masters, since you know that from the Lord you will receive the
inheritance as your reward; you serve the Lord Christ. NRSV
R. Paul Stevens notes that ministry is not defined by what
we do but rather by who we serve. It is critical to continually “re-member” our
identity as servants of Christ in the face of a world that endlessly seeks to
dismember us with other motives.
Skills and Gifts.
Khing resists the adulation thrust upon him for his work and
thereby the temptation to unreflectively throw himself into his task. His skill
is not superhuman. His workmanship comes from experience, practice, and
awareness. People often give such accolades (“the work of the spirits”) to an
accomplished craftsman because ascribing high quality of work to supernatural
sources frees them of reflecting on how poorly devoted they have been to their
own development. Khing is not letting others off the hook.
Palmer goes on to reflect on a distinction between innate
abilities we possess and skills we have learned. He writes:
The skills we are most aware of possessing are often those
we have acquired only through long hours of study and practice, at considerable
financial or personal cost. Precisely because these skills once cost us effort
to acquire, and still cost us effort to employ, we are acutely aware of owning
them. Ironically, these self-conscious skills are often not our leading
strengths; if they were, they would not be so effortful. But they are our
strengths upon which we sometimes build our identities and our careers – though
we build on an anxious, uncertain foundation. Meanwhile, our native, instinctive
gifts either languish unused and unappreciated or get used unconsciously
without being named and claimed. (66)
Concerning the woodcarver, Palmer observes:
… the woodcarver possesses several other gifts [other than
technical woodcarver skills], all of which are essential to the mastery he
demonstrates: the capacity to wait patiently for insight to emerge, the
capacity to trust in the outcomes of uncertain process, the capacity to take
risks under pressure, the capacity to speak his truth even when it is not what
people want to hear. (67)
To discover our innate abilities, Palmer suggests we might
want to reflect on our earliest memories as a child and remember how we spent
our time. What things brought us pleasure and what things we could not abide? By
going back to early memories of ourselves we can recapture what we naturally
did before we were socialized to conform to particular norms or to ground our
identity in acquired skills. I was counseled to do this a few years ago. I
think the exercise was one of the most important acts of self-discovery I have
ever done.
The Other
Action always involves an “other,” whether other people or other
objects. “Right action requires knowledge of the other’s nature, which means
knowledge of its potentials and limits, of what it can and cannot do.” (70)
In this section I think Palmer is wrestling with a polarity.
We are not intended to leave the world untouched in a pristine primitive state
but neither are we to treat the “other” as only raw material to be shaped for
utilitarian purposes. In this sense, I’m reminded of Darrell Cosden (Theology
of Work) who reminds us that the natural order is simultaneously the raw
material out of which we fashion artifacts and also our home. Embracing either
pole without the other is dehumanizing. Our human existence is one of correctly
discerning how we work in harmony with other, even as we reshape it.
Results
Palmer does not deny that achieving results are important
but he pushes back against the idea that the only meaningful, or even primary,
thing is the results.
“… As long as ‘effectiveness’ is the ultimate standard by
which we judge our actions, we will act only toward ends we are sure we can
achieve. People who undertake projects of real breadth and depth are very
unlikely to be “effective,” since effectiveness is measured by short-term
results (never mind the fact that such people may be creating cultural legacies
by their “failures”). But people with small visions will win the effectiveness
awards, since those projects are so insignificant that they can almost always ‘succeed’
(never mind the fact that they contribute nothing of real merit to the
commonweal). (75)
Palmer tells of a friend who said, “’I have never asked
myself if I was being effective, but only if I was being faithful.’” (76) But Palmer
goes on to add:
Again, results are not irrelevant. We rightly care about
outcomes; we have to live with them, and being accountable for them is part of
right action. But to make results the primary measure of action is a sure path
to either inanity or insanity. The only standard that can guide and sustain us
in action worth taking is whether the action corresponds to the reality of the
situation, including the reality of our own inward nature.
The paradox is that faithful action does get results. … (78-79)
Finally, Palmer reminds us the when we act we are not only
shaping the “other” but we are also shaping ourselves.
Questions
Do you feel trapped in your work, compelled to do work that
may not be your first choice or work for which your employer is seeking to
motivate you in ways that dismember your true identity? What do you think of
Palmer’s idea of “re-membering” ourselves?
Have you ever deeply reflected on your childhood to discover
what things brought you pleasure or dissatisfaction? What does such reflection
tell you about the innate abilities God has given you?
It what ways do you experience a tension between seeing the
world as raw material and as home that nourishes us?
How have you seen the tension between results and
faithfulness played out in your own life?
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