Alan Jones > Quotes

“It is not always easy for us to distinguish between a moment of dying and a moment of new birth.”
― Alan Jones

“Во многих случаях для того, чтобы хоть как-то функционировать, мы вынуждены полагаться на информацию из третьих рук. Я принимаю на веру слова врача, ученого, фермера. Мне это не нравится. Я вынужден это делать потому, что они обладают живым знанием, которого я лишен. Я согласен жить и пользоваться чужими знаниями о состоянии моих почек, о роли холестерина, о разведении кур; но когда речь идет о смысле и цели жизни и смерти, то информация из третьих рук меня не устраивает. Я не согласен жить чьей-то верой в чьего-то Бога.”
― Alan Jones

“One of our problems is that very few of us have developed any distinctive personal life. Everything about us seems second hand, even our emotions. In many cases we have to rely on secondhand information in order to function. I accept the word of a physician, a scientist, a farmer, on trust. I do not like to do this. I have to because they possess vital knowledge of living of which I am ignorant. Secondhand information concerning the state of my kidneys, the effects of cholesterol, and the raising of chickens, I can live with. But when it comes to questions of meaning, purpose, and death, secondhand information will not do. . . . There has to be a personal word, a unique confrontation, if I am to come alive.”
― Alan Jones

“Many of us are like James Joyce’s Mr. Duffy who “lived a short distance from his body.” In fact, we may live some distance from our bodies, and it can take enormous effort to get back in touch with our five senses. In trying, we often go overboard and get destructive with our bodies or what we put into them. …An unexpected pratfall is sometimes the way our “earthiness” is revealed to us. Jung once spoke of this experience as a pilgrimage back down out of the clouds into our bodies. He writes of having to climb back down to the earth to accept that the little clod of earth that he was. This wasn’t self-negation but true humility. The monk Thomas Merton records having a similar experience in a crosswalk in Louisville. He jumped for joy when he realized that he was like everybody else-a human being, a creature in solidarity with all creation. But not everybody jumps for joy at that realization. One reason we may try to ignore the senses or zonk out with excess is that our bodies remind us of our extreme vulnerability. The gift of life can be taken away so suddenly and unexpectedly. Holding this awareness rescues us from the danger of imagining that we are morally self-sufficient or excellent. Celebrating our vulnerability and finitude places our fears and dreads where they belong-not at the center of life but at its edge. We are closer to the mystery at the heart of things, to which the proper response is gratitude.”
― Alan Jones, Seasons of Grace: The Life-Giving Practice of Gratitude