Pleasure, Guilt, and Talk Shows

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I’ve mentioned here before my love of Anthony Bourdain’s travel/food shows. Last night saw the premiere of an occasional talk show titled “At the Table with Anthony Bourdain.” It’s the sort of thing that only the elite New York foodies could even dream up – a talk show where elite New York foodies and writers eat at a trendy restaurant and well, talk. Navel gazing in the extreme. And then there are the people like me that are fascinated by the whole thing.

So as Bourdain and his guests proceed through a molecular gastronomy tasting menu, they address deep and meaning questions like “is it ethical to spend $1800 on one meal?” and “is torturing animals for our pleasure wrong?” Alright. I half expected the group to use the space as a platform for humane eating or at least an ironic look at the absurdity of high end dining. But no. While acknowledging that they should perhaps care about such things, they all agreed that they would choose such guilty pleasures any day – and not feel guilty. It was all about savoring the pleasure of the experience. Sure it’s insane to spend $1800 on a meal, but they would spend more on a piece of art; so, the memory of their enjoyment of the meal is well worth the cost.

Of course it could be easy to dismiss the silly New York elite who are so self-consumed that they make a TV show about how self-consumed they are. But the whole thing intrigued me. Here is a group of people who have no qualms stating that seeking pleasure is the greatest good in their lives. It honestly made me laugh. These are the people I’ve been warned about my whole life. The pleasure seekers who “exchange the truth of God for a lie” or try to fill their God-shaped vacuum with sex, drugs, and food. They are the negative example given to demonstrate that pleasure – all pleasure – is a sin.

Either pleasure is the greatest good or the biggest sin.  It’s the ongoing either/or issue.  I find both extremes absurd. But it seems that all to often all we get are the extremes. I want to affirm pleasure. One should not feel guilty for enjoying life. Life is meant to be savored. But not at the expense of others. My desire for pleasure should never justify torturing animals or enslaving people. We really need a third way that gets beyond both self-centered myopia and guilt inducing condemnation. Pleasure should affirm life – all life. Pursued in joy and love and enjoyed guilt free.

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Jesus and Halloween

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I just had to share this from my MOPS newsletter….

Make Jesus A Part of Trick-or-Treating

God has chosen to reach the world through us. It has been said that nothing cost less, goes farther, lasts longer or says it better than a gospel tract. These little booklets use funny stories, pictures and jokes to introduce a scriptural study of the “Light of the World.” Just put the tracts under a light for a few minutes before you hand them out to activate the glow-in-the-dark ink on the front cover. Hand them out with each piece of candy and introduce your neighborhood kids to the love of God. Go to www.atstracts.org.

Mike’s response was – “at least they are giving candy with the tracts.” There are so many things I have issues with in that paragraph I don’t know where to begin. The tracts though are priceless. There are the typical bait and switch joke tracts that eerily present a version of the gospel in joke format. Then there’s the one with the message – eat too much candy and you go to the dentist with cavities, sin too much and you go to hell. (so therefore going to the dentist is like going to hell???). Or the one that states “sin makes us do bad things.” (really, makes us???).

Anyway, just had to share…

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Public Beauty

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One of the obvious differences between Chicagoland and Texas (besides the weather) is the visual aesthetic of city infrastructure. Honestly, driving around Chicago everything is just ugly. Ignoring the fact that most of the year the roadways are covered in dirty snow and caking salt, it’s the cement structures themselves that offend. They are stark, utilitarian, and generally falling apart. But here in Texas (and in New Mexico), public structures like highways are visually interesting. Nice brickwork, sculptural elements, color variations, and the ubiquitous symbols of the state adorn the roadways. It’s nice to look at and far less depressing than the functional but ugly Chicago roads. In short, I like it.

But of course the issue goes much deeper than rather I like it or not. The roadways are paid for with tax dollars. And my gut reaction is to say that there are far better things for our tax dollars to be spent on than making our highways look nice. I’m sure the cost of those premium bricks could have gone a long way in a public school. Stop at bare bones functionality – no matter how butt ugly – and (theoretically) save money to be used elsewhere.

Yet the result of that line of thinking is that aesthetically pleasing environments then become available to those able to pay for it themselves. Beauty and art (of whatever variety) then belong to the rich while the poor just make do with the hand they are dealt. And that hand generally equals an ugly, utilitarian, and depressing environment. If you don’t have money, you don’t “deserve” beauty.

So in regards to the age-old argument about the uses of tax dollars, I can support public works projects that seek to bring beauty to all – even if it is as simple as the construction of highways. Trapping people – whatever their income – into something that is merely functional but ugly does little to uplift or encourage hope.

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Self-Interest and Justice

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At a conference I attended recently, the speaker mentioned that she was confused by the current interest in environmental issues as justice issues.  In her view caring for the environment, although a good thing, is merely enlightened self-interest.  We care for the environment because we care about our own survival.  Mess this place up, use up all our resources, and we have a problem.  If we want to ensure a decent, comfortable existence, we take care of the world around us.  It’s as simple as that.

I chuckled at the simplicity of her equation, but failed to see the reality behind her words.   Just because something is obviously and unequivocally good for us doesn’t mean that most people will actually be moved to do it.  Take healthy living as an example.  Most people know that smoking is bad for them or that a diet of fried food, sugar, and red meat might not be the best thing for living a long life.  But people still smoke and super-size it up in the drive-thru.  Similarly, most people know that taking care of the earth is a good thing, but few of them even make time for baby step environmentalism like recycling.  So enlightened self-interest isn’t exactly a motivating factor that works.

I think the recent popularity of seeing environmental issues as justice issues has developed because people need something outside of themselves to motivate them.  Behaviorism and rewards can only work for so long before people get bored.  If the carrot that is dangled before me is that my life will be improved (or safer) if I make the effort to care for creation, I can easily choose to opt out of that particular reward.  If it’s all about me, then it’s only about me.  But seeing environmental responsibility as a justice issue brings love into the equation.

If seeking justice involves loving God and loving others with every aspect of our lives, we then are pushed beyond ourselves into patterns of discipleship and worship.  We can always choose to opt out of such things as well, but sacrificing our relationships with God and with others is a much harder step to take.  So we need to understand that we love God by taking care of his creation and his children.  We demonstrate that love by refusing to trash our oceans and preserving the food supply for communities around the world.  We stop emitting toxic gases into the atmosphere that alter ecosystems in areas of the world where most people have never even driven a car.  We push for the restriction of pesticide use for the sake of the farmer’s exposure to such poisons every day.

Caring for creation is just that – an act of compassion that is done for others.  We aren’t buying into some trend just for the sake of saving our own butts, but because we care about the people God has commanded us to care for.  In loving our neighbor, we are restoring our relationship with them.  If that relationship so far has been based on destroying their ecosystem, then restoring that relationship means ending that destruction.  Instead of being self-centered, it is about being other-centered in obedience to following and serving God.

In short, it is not about me.

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Roland “Stormy” Goss – 1920-2008

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My grandfather passed away this week and we are headed to Dallas this weekend for the funeral. His death wasn’t unexpected, but it is still unreal. In the past decade I only got to see him a couple of times – he was in hospice care and I rarely made it to Dallas. But growing up I spent lots of time with him. Every Sunday evening we had a family dinner at his place – my cousins, brothers, and I building blocks and playing with Star Wars figures in living room while the “big people” chatted away in the dining room.

During my childhood, he was building and losing his fortune in the Texas oil business, but what remember most are his stories. From stories of his dad the policeman who was involved in the pursuit of Bonnie and Clyde, to his football days at SMU, to WW2 we never tired of hearing those tales. A former officer in the U.S. Navy, he would show us the dagger he “liberated” off of a dead Nazi SS officer. He told us about his ship almost sinking in the D-day invasion at Normandy. And in helping General Patton win his rivalry against British marshall Montgomery by coordinating the naval end of the crossing of the Rhine River and getting Patton across first. And also of his best friend dying in the foxhole next to him.

Stormy wasn’t able to remember who I was the last few times I saw him, but he remembered these stories – the defining moments of his life. I’m sure we will all be remembering these stories as the family gathers this weekend.

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Blog Action Day – Poverty in Austin

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So it’s Blog Action Day and I signed up to blog about poverty issues in Austin. Great idea – but I sheepishly have to admit that I have no idea what to blog about. Having just moved back into the area less than two months ago I haven’t had much of a chance to understand the state of the city’s culture today. Most of my knowledge of poverty issues in Austin is from a dozen years ago or so when I last lived here.

My experiences started as I lived through Austin’s final attempts at desegregation in the early 90’s and was bused to East Austin for Jr. High. East Austin is often called the “bad side of town” and I had friends who weren’t allowed to cross to the east side of I-35 even in the “good” areas. I recall someone even running for city council on the platform of tunneling the highway underground so as to eliminate east and west sides and therefore the economic divide in the city. But for a Jr. Higher, passing prostitutes and witnessing drug deals on streets lined with trash and broken glass to then enter a highly secure locked down school did more to inspire fear than compassion. Add to that the resentment and violence the local students had toward us bused in students and it was easy to simply think of them as “other.” Poverty wasn’t a problem to be solved, but a situation to be avoided.

Fast forward a few years and I became part of the establishment of the Austin based outreach group Mission Possible. I know little of the large organization it has become, but in the beginning it was about loving and helping children in poverty. We would work in local housing projects providing tutoring and activities for the kids. A couple of friends and I started girls clubs and spent our weekends in the projects with the kids. We were in High School and we couldn’t do much, but we did what we could. Our youth pastor told us to stop working with those kids because it took us away from youth group activities, but we did it anyway. Getting involved and providing opportunities these kids didn’t normally have were the small steps we could take to reversing the constraints of poverty.

So as I return to Austin and blog about poverty here today it was these personal stories I remember. There are of course huge systemic issues at play – the sort of stuff I usually discuss here. But so far my time back here has just brought me personal stories. Neighbors struggling to get by in this crazy economy. A single mom of a teenager who has become an adopted mom to all the teens in the neighborhood – providing love and some stability where she can (even though her dog scares me to death). Another single mom with a girl Emma’s age who has moved back in with her parents as she battles cancer and the financial troubles that brings. Real people, real stories.

I’m still trying to figure out my role in this particular story of poverty issues here in Austin. Where I am going and what I’ll end up doing here is up for grabs. For now I’m just listening to stories.

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Vespers at the Orthodox Church

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This past weekend we headed to downtown Austin for the oldest festival in Austin – the 76th annual Mediterranean Festival at St. Elias Orthodox Church. The church, officially an Antiochian Orthodox church, has since become a pan-orthodox community – proximity of geography achieving what centuries of dogma never could – an ecumenicalish orthodoxy. So here the Coptics, Syrians, Greeks, Russians (to name a few) worship together (in English nonetheless) and share their cultural heritages. The Mediterranean Festival is a chance for that heritage to be shared with the larger community. Taking the term “Mediterranean” lightly the offerings included Greek, Turkish, Eritrean, and Romanian foods and folk and belly dancing lessons. As great as these elements were, what intrigued me the most was the evening vespers service I attended at the church itself.

While the bands got going and the alcohol began to flow (clear sign that this was an Orthodox not Evangelical fest), Saturday evening vespers commenced as scheduled at Saint Elias. It was immediately apparent that most of us attending the service weren’t regular attenders. There were of course the gawkers who wandered in throughout the service, stood listening for a couple of minutes, got tired and sat down, and then got bored and wandered out. Then there were those of us who stuck it out with the whole stranger in a foreign land demeanor. We stealthily (or not so much) watched the few regulars for when to bow or cross ourselves or pray aloud. I gave up on that after awhile and just listened.

Although almost entirely in English, I understood little of the service. I am unused to sung prayers or liturgy of any sort for that matter. I’m not part of that whole ancient/future stream of emergent; it’s just not in my realm of experience. So, I had no clue what the role of the parade of priests (or whatever title they hold) was as they each performed different aspects of the service. I recognized a few familiar verses and prayers and I caught phrases referencing the salvation of the pious orthodox and some stuff about heretics, but mostly I heard repeated over and over again the phrase “Lord, have Mercy.” It was devout, but from my vantage point, utterly confusing.

So I was torn in my response to the service. I felt out of place. I wasn’t unwelcome, but it was obvious that no concessions were made to help make the service accessible to outsiders (who this night at least were in the majority). My low-church, seeker-sensitive/evangelical roots balk at such a system although I intellectually know that such a reaction is unfair and unloving. This was about a prayer service, not about what I expect from church. So I attempted then to simply acknowledge the beauty of the service and of the faith reflected in it. It was beautiful and the repeated prayers for mercy were moving (although the icons done in sentimental 1930’s styles were more cheezy than transcendent). But then as I sought to see the beauty, I wondered if I was merely being condescending. Was I acting too much like the outside observer patronizing a cultural event not so much as to enter into it and become part of it, but to stand apart and look down upon it.? Philosophical discussions about the possibility of either and all that gets lost in translation aside, I left the vespers feeling more like an outsider than when I entered in. I didn’t want to be an anthropologist, but I discovered I wasn’t a participant either. I was assuredly out of place.

Perhaps that is a good thing, perhaps not. Whatever the case, it has had me thinking and asking questions about such experiences and what they mean for my faith and for the church…

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Loving Our Neighbor and Ourselves

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Listening to the message at church this morning was a reminder of the tension the presentation of our beliefs often puts us in. Sometimes in affirming one thing it can appear that one is negating or ignoring other equally important and necessary beliefs. I know I do it all the time – create an either/or scenario when something is really both/and.

So at church Rick led a discussion about serving others. You know the whole first shall be last we are called to humble ourselves and serve thing. I obviously affirm all that, but a comment from someone bothered me a bit. She talked about how in devoting ourselves to others – giving up of ourselves – we are then filled as our cups overflow. The point wasn’t an economic exchange (we give in order to get), but more of an example of how God sustains those that serve. It’s the whole “it’s not about me” message.

I’m all for the whole love your neighbor/serve others thing, but I can’t affirm that such things are necessarily all you need to “fill one’s cup.” I’m a mom with young kids. I serve my kids 24/7, but as much as I love them and would do anything for them I can’t say that doing so is what fills me up. Absolutely and utterly drained is the more common feeling these days. I guess some could say I just have the wrong sort of attitude or am too selfish, but I think there is more that is needed. I can’t do this all the time – I need rest, I need a Sabbath. I need to be the person God created me to be. I need to love myself as well as love my neighbor. It sounds selfish (and it very well can be), but I think it is part of this both/and message that needs to be told. A good number of us do need to be told to get over ourselves and to serve – others though need to be told to care for themselves and rest. Both are needed – neither should be ignored or exalted.

It reminded me of recent conversations I’ve had with Mike on feminist theologians’ conceptions of sin. In traditional  conceptions the greatest sin is that of pride. To seek power and prestige is condemned and humility and service encouraged. Yet in feminist and other theologies of the oppressed, the greatest sin becomes allowing oneself to be walked over. One does not love oneself enough to lead. I see the truth there. And how these sins are presented depends both on the audience and the presenter. So it is dissonant for those who have never held or sought power to be told to relinquish it and serve. They are made to feel guilty for sins they have never committed, all the while failing to fulfill their calling in other ways.

The last shall be first and the first shall be last. We must love our neighbors and ourselves. We must be humble servants and leaders. We must serve actively and seek to rest. The tension is there always and it’s hard to present paradox without tipping the balance to one side or the other.

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Politics and Jedi

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As the election ramps up and the vitriol flies I hear more and more people wishing that the whole thing would be over. We have been gearing up for this election for the past two years – rhetoric and promises have abounded, lines have been drawn, and the divisions in our society made clear. Even those of us who affirm involvement in politics are a tad nauseated.

It is obvious that the selection of the American President is not a unifying element in our culture. We expect little from the campaign promises because we know that the “other side” will on principle fight against their realization. So when someone stands apart from that polarized system and is capable of affecting change he or she captures our attention and admiration. It’s sad, but the existence of such people who can get stuff done is rare. Rachel Louise Snyder speaks to this in her book Fugitive Denim as she discusses one of these actual agents of change –

“Bono is one of the few people walking the earth today who can convince world leaders to change rules, to establish different priorities. He’s a lobbyist of the highest order; a salesman whose greatest tool is himself, his own belief.” (p.28)

Bono stands outside the system, but gets involved on the most basic levels where change is needed. He gets his hands dirty and uses his awe-inspiring celebrity status to use his voice for good. In this role he is less like a politician and more like a Jedi. You know, a Jedi – as in Star Wars, the Force, and lightsabers. In the mythology of the Star Wars universe, the Jedi were the guardians of the good in society. Committed to a mystical/spiritual path, they chose to serve their culture as peacekeepers, protectors, and priests. They were present in society and did the hard and dirty work themselves. They were not the government or minions of the government but advisers to the government. Their presence inspired awe and their word carried weight. They weren’t saints, but people trusted them and for millennia they spiritually guided a galaxy.

As fanciful as it is, I wish there were more “Jedi” in our society today. People who stand outside the systems, but who guided by spiritual conviction and a deep abiding love for others are able to speak truth into that system. And because they are serving they are deserving enough of respect that people actually listen. It is curious that it is a rock star and not a politician or religious leader who holds that role in our society. We could just dismiss this as cultural obsession with celebrity, or we could be vulnerable enough to explore what those other leaders are lacking.

I for one am sick of talks about mavericks and the like. I’m more interested in guardians of the good than propaganda. I’m hoping for more Jedi.

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Framing History

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As a follow up to recent posts about a priori assumptions and the like, I wanted to add some rambling thoughts (emphasis on rambling) about framing stories and history. So while I get annoyed by assumptions when they are used to exclude possibilities, they do serve a purpose in providing us with a lens through which we understand history. We need such lenses as we look back and try to understand the past – in fact those lenses are unavoidable. We create frame stories in order to tell the story of history – they give us frames of reference, help us make sense of the world, allow us to create meaning out of history, and help us tell better stories.

So for example in high school I took a class called World Area Topics in which we studied the rise and fall of dictators through history. That was the framework within which we approached world history. In college I had a class called Revolutionary Europe – basically European history through the lens of acts of violence and sex scandals (fun stuff). Similarly an overview of American History textbooks from the past 100 years will demonstrate the evolving nature of frame stories. From morality based (Washington and the cherry tree), to imperialist (go Manifest Destiny), to anti-communist (we have always been a Christian nation…) the way history is taught reveals the assumptions and lenses of the storyteller. These framestories aren’t wrong or bad (usually), they just are. The issues arise when one or the other is assumed to be the only valid or true way of telling the story.

The stakes of course get higher when the frame stories of the Bible and church history are revealed (or attempted to be revealed). I’ve been taught church history though the lens of missions, evangelicalism, and as church vs. empire. Each hold truth, but not the sum of the truth. So the other night Mike and I got into a um, argument, about the centrality and importance of the framestory of the Jewish canon (so if you ever wonder what married nerds argue about…). It of course brought up more questions than answers. As I see it, those that developed the biblical canon did so because they desired to promote a certain framestory. The selection of books, the editing of sources, the very understanding of history all came from a certain perspective and were meant to convey particular meaning at the time. This is the Bible we have today – in accepting it as such are we in fact accepting the primacy of the historical lens of a particular people at a particular moment in time (as much as we can understand it of course)? What does that mean for the applicability of scripture? As one who is also unwilling to reject God’s role in the process, I still wonder to what extent “inspired” extends to. I could believe that God actively placed each book there in it’s current form for timeless application. Or I could believe that God guided the process to provide the most flexible and evolving source of knowledge possible. Or a million other options.

So while I understand the need for functional framestories, I appreciate the ability to acknowledge multiple possibilities. The faith factor complicates things from time to time. To accept default framestories can be difficult and can cloud understanding. But I guess that’s part of the balance between faith and doubt.

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