Tao Te Ching, Chapter 22

This post is part of an ongoing series.  You can find out more by clicking here.

I said when introducing chapter 20 that I found it the most difficult one yet.  In my opinion, this chapter is perhaps one of the most beautiful!  I hope you will agree.

The challenging paradoxes in these proverbs are what make them so valuable:  in order to solve the puzzles, we have to pause long enough for the images to settle as we take them in.  Some people will read them quickly, write them off as nonsense, and forget them.  But a few will stop– ponder them for even just a few seconds, and perhaps find something valuable.  Are you willing to give them a chance?

If you want to become whole,
let yourself be partial.
If you want to become straight,
let yourself be crooked.
If you want to become full,
let yourself be empty.
If you want to be reborn,
let yourself die.
If you want to be given everything,
give everything up

Each of these proverbs follows the same pattern.  ‘If you want … let yourself …’ This is, on the face of it, a very strange idea.  Instead of progressing from goals to strategies, figuring out how to make the desired outcome a reality, we are encouraged to allow something to happen to us instead.  And not just anything, but allowing the very thing we don’t want to happen!

So why would I choose to ‘let [myself] be empty’ if what I really want is to be full?  Why would I ‘let [myself] die’ if what I really want is to live?

It is at this point on the road of Taoism where I find a surprising and amazing intersection between these ancient Chinese philosophers and the kind of Christian faith that I have been moving toward for several years now.  Explaining that will require a separate blog post (or several…).  But for now I invite you to draw your own conclusions; and, if you know anything about Jesus, I encourage you to keep it in mind as we imagine the example of a Taoist Master:

The Master, by residing in the Tao,
sets an example for all beings.
Because he doesn’t display himself,
people can see his light.
Because he has nothing to prove,
people can trust his words.
Because he doesn’t know who he is,
people recognize themselves in him.
Because he has no goal in mind,
everything he does succeeds.

Here is a fleshing-out of the kinds of opposites we’ve been talking about in action.  The Master’s light is shining because he doesn’t put himself forward; he is trustworthy because he isn’t intent on proving himself; he is likely to succeed because he remains flexible and adaptable to the circumstances.

Finally, one more example of the same ‘let yourself’ attitude that we’ve been considering.

When the ancient Masters said,
“If you want to be given everything,
give everything up,”
they weren’t using empty phrases.
Only in being lived by the Tao can you be truly yourself.

The goal of the Taoist is not to ‘attain’ an admirable, perfectly-tuned and balanced lifestyle. The goal of the Taoist — the only goal — is to make space for the Tao to do its work. Doing this means giving other things up; but in return we get something which is so much more valuable!

As ever, I hope this little commentary has been worth reading. I would love for you to leave a comment if it has been. Feel free to pre-empt my next post by saying how you see (or don’t see) similarities between the Taoist ‘Master’ and a certain inauspicious Jewish carpenter…