Understanding the Essence of God
It was with renewed vigor that the student sought out the teacher. It was said the teacher would be wise enough to teach an understanding of the essence of God. So the student presented this remarkable request to the teacher.
The teacher asked, “Why do you wish to understand the essence of God?” The student replied, “I have studied many philosophies and teachings for many years, and realize none of them sufficiently explain good and bad, holy and evil. The more I studied, the more it became apparent that the only way I would fully understand these things would be if I could fully understand the essence of God. Is it possible you could teach this to me?”
The teacher thought several moments, then said, “Yes, perhaps I can provide you with the insight you need. But I have one requirement. I may be asking you to do tasks which seem formidable, but you must not question the reasons behind them. Is that acceptable to you?”
The student agreed to honor the requirement.
The teacher signaled the student to follow, and they went into the teacher’s kitchen.
The teacher took five onions out of a bag in a cupboard and placed them on a platter. The teacher, using a sharp knife, cut each onion in half, each half in half, and again each half in half, making each onion into eight sections. The teacher separated the rings in each section, then mixed up the separate pieces on the platter.
The teacher handed the student the platter of onions and said, “Just as if it were a puzzle, put the pieces back together to reconstruct the onions.”
The student was too astounded to speak, but remembering the teacher’s request, was at the moment thankful for that astonishment! For what could the reassembling of onions have to do with understanding the essence of God?
The student took the platter of onion pieces home, and set to work. It took the student one year and a day to reassemble the onions. This provided substantial opportunities for contemplation of life, meaning, God, and so many of those unspeakable insights we all enjoy from time to time. But there was no sense of that which the student sought.
When the task was completed, the student took the assembled onions to the teacher, and proudly presented them.
The teacher asked, “Do you now understand the essence of God?” “No,” said the student. “Succinctly and accurately stated,” said the teacher; “Are you ready for the next task?” “Yes,” said the student, “but I really don’t see—.” “Not so succinct,” said the teacher, stopping the student’s response with the wave of a hand. “‘Yes’ will suffice for now.”
And with that, the teacher signaled the student to follow, and they went into the teacher’s kitchen.
The teacher took five onions out of a bag in a cupboard and placed them on a platter. The teacher, using a sharp knife, cut each onion in half, each half in half, and again each half in half, making each onion into eight sections. The teacher separated the rings in each section, then mixed up the separate pieces on the platter. The platter was then placed in the oven, and the pieces were cooked until soft. The teacher again mixed up the separate pieces on the platter.
The teacher handed the student the platter of onions and said, “Just as if it were a puzzle, put the pieces back together to reconstruct the onions.”
The student’s original astonishment was but a pittance compared to the angst experienced in anticipation of the impending task.
But the student took the platter of cooked onion pieces home, and set to work. It took the student ten years and a day to reassemble the onions. This provided an overabundance of substantial opportunities for contemplation of life, meaning, God, and so many of those unspeakable insights we all enjoy from time to time. But this time, there was a beginning of a sense of that which the student sought.
When the task was completed, the student took the assembled onions to the teacher, and presented them, but not so proudly as after the first task.
The teacher asked, “Do you now understand the essence of God?” “Perhaps,” said the student, “I seem to be getting a sense of what its all about.” “Good,” said the teacher; “Are you ready for the next task?” “I think so,” the student said with more than a hint of reluctance.” “Patience,” said the teacher, stopping further response from the student with the wave of a hand. “‘Yes’ will suffice for now.”
And with that, the teacher signaled the student to follow, and they went into the teacher’s kitchen.
The teacher took five onions out of a bag in a cupboard and placed them on a platter. The teacher, using a sharp knife, cut each onion in half, each half in half, and again each half in half, making each onion into eight sections. The teacher separated the rings in each section, then mixed up the separate pieces on the platter. The platter was then placed in the oven, and the pieces were cooked until soft. The teacher again mixed up the separate pieces on the platter, placed them in a blender, and reduced the cooked onions to a mush before carefully pouring every drop of the onion puree back on the platter.
The teacher handed the student the platter of onions and said, “Just as if it were a puzzle, put the pieces back together to reconstruct the onions.”
The student’s original astonishment was but drop of emotion in the sudden macrocosm of despair the student now experienced. “For eleven years I acted in silence. I will be silent no more. Although the first task seemed meaningless, the second seemed to hint at the essence of God. Now you give me a more than impossible task, and as I confront it, I deeply fear that I will never attain what I seek, that I will never gain an understanding of the essence of God!”
“Aha!” said the teacher.
Ørfeø
December 9, 1997