50/50 Isn't Always An Even Split

There's an old mathematics trick that proves that by moving exactly half the distance to your destination an infinite number of times, you'll never arrive there. For instance, let's move a distance of 10 feet together. Our first stop is 5 feet, then 2½ feet. Five stops ahead, we're still .078125 feet away. Five more stops, and we're still .0002441 feet away. We can keep doing this ad infinitum.

Likewise, there's an old linguistics trick that, when asked to write down a particular spoken sentence, results in two variants: "There are too many vans on the street" or "There are two mini-vans on the street". Each is phonetically similar, but with its own unique meaning.

Each exercise only goes to show that in our society's attempt to codify and clarify and enumerate, we've only really succeeded in creating a system of communication a little more efficient than grunting and pointing.

I was in the third grade when I first read Where The Red Fern Grows.

In one of the chapters, Billy Coleman takes his coon hounds, Old Dan and Little Ann, on their first hunt. Trained all summer long to follow a scent over land and through water, his hounds tree a coon immediately; however, it's in one of the thickest sycamore trees in the woods. [Sierra Club and PETA members: please discontinue reading here].

In order to not discourage his hounds on their first hunt and perhaps ruin their desire to hunt, they must continue to track this coon. But in order for the hounds to track it, Billy must cut down this massive tree. Since he made a promise to his dogs to make them the best coon hounds, Billy is determined to cut down this tree. After working on it for several days and making little progress, Billy is about to give up.

In his frustration, Billy remembers his Grandpa telling him that he must meet God halfway. But Billy has cut through half of this mighty sycamore and the tree shows no signs of falling any time soon. As soon as Billy asks God why He isn't keeping up His side of the bargain, a small wind picks up and shakes some leaves off the trees. Soon, several branches move around and before Billy understands what is going on, the tree falls over.

Billy humbly realizes God did keep up His side of the bargain, just not on the timetable Billy originally demanded.

Having had my own personal exercise of miscommunication today - added to the feeling of late that I've traveled half the distance on my path and not seen any substantive result - these examples came to my mind.

Making deals with God is tricky. I have a book by Alan Dershowitz titled The Genesis of Justice: Ten Stories of Biblical Injustice that Led to the Ten Commandments and Modern Law. One of the biblical stories reaffirms that we are allowed, sometimes expected, to plea bargain (for lack of a better term) with God.

When the cities of Sodom and Gommorrah are threatened with permanent destruction, it is promised to Abraham that the cities will be spared if fifty righteous people can be found. After several rounds of bargaining, Abraham finally gets God to lower than number to ten. Even that number is too great and we know the rest of the story. Point is, we are allowed to question God and make sure our covenants are also just.

Grandpa Coleman wasn't exactly accurate about it being a 50/50 relationship. Usually, God only asks us to chop down as much of the proverbial tree as possible and He'll take care of the rest. And when we do ask for something, He always knows what we mean instead of what we say, even if we don't.