Consider the example of a highly intelligent seven-year-old child whom I wish to teach to play chess, although the child has no particular desire to learn the game. The child does however have a very strong desire for candy and little chance of obtaining it. I therefore tell the child that if the child will play chess with me once a week I will give the child 50 cents worth of candy; moreover I tell the child that I will always play in such a way that it will be difficult, but not impossible, for the child to win and that, if the child wins, the child will receive an extra 50 cents worth of candy. Thus motivated the child plays and plays to win.
Notice however that, so long as it is the candy alone which provides the child with a good reason for playing chess, the child has no reason not to cheat and every reason to cheat, provided he or she can do so successfully. But, so we may hope, there will come a time when the child will find in those goods specific to chess, in the achievement of a certain highly particular kind of analytical skill, strategic imagination and competitive intensity, a new set of reasons, reasons now not just for winning on a particular occasion, but for trying to excel in whatever way the game of chess demands. Now if the child cheats, he or she will be defeating not me, but himself or herself.
There are thus two kinds of good possibly to be gained by playing chess. On the one hand there are those goods externally and contingently attached to chess-playing and to other practices by the accidents of social circumstance - in the case of the imaginary child candy, in the case of real adults such goods as prestige, status and money. There are always alternative ways for achieving such goods, and their achievement is never to be had only by engaging in some particular kind of practice.
On the other hand there are the goods internal to the practice of chess which cannot be had in any way but by playing chess or some other game of that specific kind. We call them internal for two reasons: first, as I have already suggested, because we can only specify them in terms of chess or some other game of that specific kind and by means of examples from such games (otherwise the meagerness of our vocabulary for speaking of such goods forces us into such devices as my own resort to writing of 'a certain highly particular kind of'); and secondly because they can only be identified and recognised by the experience of participating in the practice in question. Those who lack the relevant experience are incompetent thereby as judges of internal goods.
- Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue
It wouldn't have been possible for me to stay at the top for so long without the education Karpov gave me about my own game. Not just revealing to me the weaknesses, but the importance of finding them for myself. I didn't fully realise it at the time, but the notorious "Marathon Match" showed me the key to success. It's not enough to be talented. It's not enough to work hard and to study late into the night. You must also become intimately aware of the methods you use to reach your decisions.
Self-awareness is essential to being able to combine your knowledge, experience, and talent to reach your peak performance. Few people ever perform this sort of analysis. Every decision stems from an internal process, whether at the chessboard, in the White House, in the boardroom, or at the kitchen table. The subject matter of those decisions will be different, but the process can be very similar.
- Garry Kasparov, How Life Imitates Chess
as a chessplayer, i recognise that there are goods internal to the practice of chess which cannot be had in any way but by playing chess. playing chess is not about winning (instead of losing), but about the quest for perfection. i would rather play a perfect game and draw, than play an imperfect game and win. of course, no one knows what the perfect game is - yet.
as a Christian, i recognise that there is the fruit of the Spirit - internal to being in Christ - which cannot be had in any way but by being in Christ. being in Christ is not about going to heaven (instead of hell) when we die, but about being filled with the Spirit, bearing the fruit of the Spirit, anticipating in the present the verdict which will be reaffirmed in the future.
[no one goes to heaven when they die. in fact, everyone goes to hell (not purgatory) when they die. the concept of going to heaven (instead of hell) when we die is our Western reshaping of the story of the Bible, our fitting of it into different categories.]
it is ironic that we sometimes think that the purpose-driven life is to die and go to heaven, even though Jesus came 'that [we] may have life, and have it to the full' (John 10:10, NIV). death is always and everywhere an evil. how can we live to die, when Jesus died 'that we might live through him' (1 John 4:9, NIV)?
Jesus did not die so that we can go to heaven when we die. Jesus died so that we can build for the kingdom on the crucified and risen Messiah, the Church's one foundation, Jesus Christ her Lord.
[when Paul says that he 'desire[s] to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far' (Philippians 1:23, NIV), he does not mean that he desires to die and go to heaven. rather, he means that he desires the return of Christ,
"For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever." - 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17 (NIV)
in other words, Paul is not talking about life after death, but about life after life after death.]
"Jesus said to [Martha], "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"" - John 11:25-26 (NIV)
No comments:
Post a Comment