Whereupon a formidable, middle-aged woman in the balcony rose and cried out, “Quick! Give him some chicken soup!”
The manager, surprised, said, “Madam, I said it was a fatal heart attack. The great Mendel Kalb is dead.”
The woman repeated, “So quick! Give him some chicken soup.”
The manager screeched in desperation, “Madam! The man is dead! What good will chicken soup do?”
And the woman shouted back, “What harm?”
All metaphysics…at the most, one thing can be said in its favor: it cannot do any harm. It is chicken soup to a dead man. Nothing good comes out of it. Nothing can come out of it – mere words, mere play of words. Nothing good can come out of it. Of course, no harm also. It is a futile activity; not even harm comes out of it.
And remember, something can be harmful only if it can be beneficial also. If it cannot be harmful, it cannot be beneficial. If something can be beneficial then it can be harmful also; then it depends on how it is to be used. Poison is harmful: it can be beneficial, it can become medicinal. It depends on how you use it.
But with metaphysics, there are mere words. But the human mind tends to believe in words. By and by it completely forgets that the reality is not in the words; it is beyond the words. It has to be approached through silence. It has to be approached through meditation, not through mind. If your mind goes on creating more and more rows of words, you will be continuously in a futile activity – much ado about nothing.
But why do people cling to their metaphysical attitudes? They cling, because if they drop those metaphysical attitudes – they call them philosophies, religion, Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism – if you drop them, suddenly you are naked. If you drop them, suddenly your trembling child is there – without the rag doll. If you drop them, then you don’t know who you are. If you drop them, suddenly you lose your identity ( your name, your form, everything starts disappearing…you start falling into an abyss – that is the fear.
People go on clinging to words. Words create more words. Words create more questions and more answers are needed, and then answers create more questions again, and so on and so forth.
There is a story of a workman who had been mortally wounded. A priest was sent for, and he began his ministrations by asking, “Do you believe in God the Father? Do you believe in God the Son? And do you believe in God the Holy Ghost?”
The man looked at those around him and murmured, “Here am I dying and he asks me riddles.”