Post 17) from Xanga

17) On Sunday our pastor gave a sermon which talked a bit about hope. I don't remember the main point of the sermon-- I wasn't taking notes-- but I do remember the anecdote he told.

Apparently there was this scientific study done at, I believe, the University of Michigan. Our pastor did not condone this sort of thing, but he told the story anyway. The scientists put some rats in a big tub of water from which there was no escape, and just let them swim. And swim. And swim.

When it looked to the scientists as though the rats were close to exhaustion, they took them out of the tub. Then they put them back in again, and let them swim. And swim. And swim. The time they swam got longer and longer. Again, when it looked as though they were about to go under from exhaustion, the scientists took them out.

Then the scientists put the rats back in the tub, and left for two days.

When they came back, some of the rats had drowned. Some were still swimming.

Some of the rats had learned to pace themselves, to float for awhile and then paddle for awhile. Those were the ones that survived.

The point was that the rats had hope-- or something like it-- because they had been "trained" that if they just held in there and paddled long enough, someone would come and fish them out. The rats had been trained not to give up and just die. Some of them swam in that tub for two days.

I wonder how much suffering and pain has been caused in this world by hope. Because disaster is understandable-- you deal with it and move on. But hope-- hope is that knife in the gut that keeps on twisting, because it's never entirely dead.