To consume of be consumed - part three...

Ok. To return to a previous post I promised to elaborate on... The quote was actually, that the world is no longer rules by nation-states, or political entities, but is now run by corporations, which is the ultimate expression of how we're ruled by this thing called consumerism.

One way we see this is the way that elections are now basically won by the purchasing power of the campaign advertising machine. (Ok - humor my preachiness for just a second) There's little substance in the whole process, and for the most part, folks feel disenfranchised by the whole voting/election enchilada. And guess who will end up beholden to the money machine that put them in office? Hmmm... A good example of this is shown in a recent movie starring Robin Williams - "Man of the Year", where a fluke in a rigged election causes a comic to be elected president. It's not nearly as funny as I thought it would be, as it's just too close to being reality.

And we find corporations like Wal Mart using the almighty dollar to shape politics. From the local scene, by basically forcing themselves on communities who don't want them there, by 'buying" zoning restructurings that allow big stores near residential areas, To the state and federal scene by keeping unions from making a foothold in their employee ranks by strongarm tactics and even closing stores where unions have bene introduced, under the guise of "profit" management.

It's the same old "Man" disguised now not in the red, white, and blue of american patriotism, but is now clothed in shades of green.

But the problem isn't the system, it's us. We've bought the idea that we're somehow entitled to three cars, a 4000 aquare foot home, and a pool in the backyard. We've swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker.

This season there has been a series of commercials by a not to be named car company that rhymes with Boy-ota. The owners of perfectly good (at least seemingly so) automobiles are devising various ways to crash, burn, drown, and otherwise destroy their current car so that they have an excuse to buy a new one. Every time I see it - I think "Why?" and then remember that it was not too long ago that I wouldn't even begin to be able to look at a commercial from that kind of critical angle.... And I still seem to find myself "stuck" in that same mindset in other ways.

So I think it's important to keep trying to bust out of the shell that our culture is trying to squeeze us into. Unforunately, I think we've been so brainwashed that money and by association, political power, is the "way to get things done", that we're even rife to accept those tactics in our religious institutions. Donors threaten to pill money from educational institutions that allow "heretical" teaching. American Family Associations constant tirade of boycots against companies that promote the "gay" agenda, drugs, and a number of other non "family" values. And by accepting this kind of thing as the norm, even in the most sacred of circles, we eventually can't even see that by doing so, we've accepted the message that might is right.

Sadly, the only real opposition to this particular culture's hostile corporate takeover of the entire globe is a few shieks in the Middle East who control the precious oil supply, and force us into constant submission to their will. No wonder we hate them so much.

For a much more detailed look at this see:

http://www.amedeofelix.com/consumed.html

I'm perplexed

Pray for my friend Brad...

http://bradsbigbadbrisbaneblog.blogspot.com/

He's dying from cancer.

I can honestly say that I'm totally perplexed by the ability of folks to face death in the way he has. He is a witness to a particular kind of faith story, and expresses his faith in God in a way I'm honestly afraid I'll be unable to do when the time comes for me...

For control freaks like me, cancer has to be, ultimately, the most horrifying possible disease to experience...

To consume or be consumed??

Quote from The Onion AV Club:

"As a consumeritizen of a capitalist Republic, I feel duty-bound to see movies that qualify as big pop culture events, just as I feel obligated to listen to the big summer songs and familiarize myself with the big TV shows everyone’s talking about. It’s the price of entry to be a proud, opinionated participant in the wonderful world of popular culture."

Somehow I found this quote worthy of saving. "consumeritizen" seems quite appropriate. I don't remember where I read it, but something I read recently stated that it's not politics that runs the world now, but that it's economics. It does ring true when we see wars fought for basically economic reasons, when foreign policy is determined by economic parameters, when we "sanction" nations by economic means, and when one primary means by which we fight terrorism is to cut off their money supply.

More thoughts on this later...

The Measure of a Man...

I've harbored a secret fear I've never really told anyone about. I fear that at the end of my days, when my body fails me and death and decay win their final battle with my physical essence, that no one will care... Well not exactly no one, but not enough. I'm somewhat jaded, though - most of the funerals I've been to were fairly large affairs, and I always find myself thinking "Wow! This person had a huge impact on so many people". I fear that few will say that about me. I guess in the long run it doesn't matter what's said - I'll be long gone by the time those kinds of comments are made.

However... Somehow, I think I need events such as the funeral I attended yesterday to remind me of my fear, and allow it to transform the way I relate to others. I think in some way, this is part of how God's grace works through these kinds of tragic circumstances to bring about newness and transformation in those of us left to carry the torch. I thought to myself "This is what a funeral should be like"... A celebration of a person's life well-lived, as told by those who were close to him. It was nearly two hours long, but somehow didn't seem long enough. I found myself thinking, "How do you summarize a man's life in a few pages or notes or a few minutes' time?" Of course it's impossible. The "stories" are told again and again, remembering vicariously through those who knew him best.

We all do this - whether consciously or not. I often find myself telling stories to my kids about how "Mama Gert" always came to visit for a few weeks in the summer, and always made me re-arrange my bedroom. And how "Papa Sullivan" always told me to come by their place before returning to college after a week at home. He always gave me a few dollars for gas, a coke and a snack. I tell stories of how they impacted me, how they loved me, how I miss them, even though I don't always express it like I want to.

I'm not sure why, though, I'm so pensive about this particular funeral. Maybe it's because this guy was near my age, and left kids behind that are the same age as mine. I probably won't tell "Jim stories" - I didn't know him that well. But I am somehow compelled to hold those close to me a bit closer, to seek new ways to embrace friendship in deeper ways with those whom I share friendship, and to love my kids and wife better because of the sudden reminder that life is fleeting, and that the measure of my success at life's end won't be financial or numerical, but will be a measure of how well I've loved, embraced, and befriended.

Transformers...

Ok. I'm reliving my Junior High years. It seems that the entertainment industry is committed to helping me do this. I guess a t-shirt collection is better than buying a new Corvette.

I and several friends went to a late night showing of Transformers. All I can say is WOW!! Go see this movie.The acting isn't too bad, the guy gets the girl, and robots galore! Two hours and twenty three minutes wasn't nearly enough. I could have gone another hour at least, but I guess for the sake of those who never longed for a full set of Transformers and had to settle for a couple of Gobots, they kept it short to keep attention. There were so many tie ins with the old cartoon series, from the sound effects, the voice of Optimus Prime, and the little personality quirks of the Autobots and Decepticons.

The effects were well done, although the multiple POV quick cuts left me a bit dizzy... Shai Leboeuf does a surprisingly decent transition from absolute goofy, floppy nerdy kid to the pimply, skinny, nerdy teenager... Ok. Not much of a transition, but he does a good job with the action scenes without being overly sophomoric. Lots of funny quotes, even within the tense action scenes.

This movie is what I'd thought Transformers should look like if it were redone with today's production capability.

Of Bicycles and Men

Yesterday, I rode my bike to pay the bills. Not because I was out of gas, or had a broke down car, but because I simply wanted to. I've done alot of bicycling lately, either on the trails around a park near my house, on my hopelessly outdated mountain bike, or on the streets riding my "cruiser". I bought my cruiser a few years ago, before cruisers were back in style. I wanted something with solid construction that I didn't have to spend all my time scrunched down like you have to on a mountain bike, and that had a large enough seat to accomodate my (then) quite large posterior.

Now I'm in style.... Folks ask me "What kind of bike do you have"... I honestly don't remember most of the time which brand and/or model it is... (It's a Huffy Cranbrook)...

One thing I've noticed is that one's view of their town/neighborhood changes when one rides a bike. It's obviously different from riding in a car, but also different than walking... It's possible to notice more scenery, see people, generally take it a bit slower. Most of the time I don't have time to walk to do errands and miscellaneous chores, so I don't walk except for recreation. But... a bicycle makes small errands "doable", if you're time constrained. With more opportunities to experience a slower pace, there's more opportunity to look around and enjoy the things that simply whiz by too fast when one is driving a car. It's also quieter, giving one the opportunity to experience the smells (not all pleasant), and sounds of life...

I also get a bit of a perverse pleasure out of using less fuel. I shook my imaginary fist at the oil companies while pedaling down the main drag in smalltown USA... I'm not sure why I felt this way - probably too much ancillary exposure to my "green" friends, and I don't mean the Martians who live onder the pool table in my basement.

Roots...

I love bluegrass. There - I've said it. I own a mountain dulcimer, a mandolin, and I've owned a banjo. I've seen a handsaw "played" as special music in church. I've seen a guy use an old pair of strap on roller skates as a percussion instrument. I love to play my father in law's resonator guitar.

I've been trying for years to reject my roots. With all of the derogotory comments made about Arkansas, and southern culture in general by almost everyone I know, I guess my southern heritage hasn't been a source of pride for me. No more.

Sure, alot of the lyrics are simple. Much of old "mountain" gospel lyrics are based on horrible theology. But there is something real, earthy, about these songs. "Come and Dine" speaks of the table of the Lord, and how it's for the "hungry". "Rocky Top" speaks of a lost lifestyle and a longing for a place in the hills of Tennessee. These songs connect with something within me, at a visceral level, one that I can't ignore. My foot starts 'a tappin , and I find myself whistling along with the lyrics. Does that make me a hopelessly simpleminded redneck? Nah - just an guy whose a bit more comfortable in his own skin these days...



I have to admit - it's gotten a bit easier these days -some contemporary bluegrass musicians have revived the good old mountain music - Seldom Scene, Union Station, JD Crowe and the New South, etc, are the modern minstrels of this particular genre. This modern bluegrass revival of sorts has made it a bit easier to just be me...

is this being christian?

burdens shared, kind words spoken
in a bare room on sunday morning
instead of singing songs
whose words i dont believe any more
forgetting about what is going on
in the next room as we live in the moment

loving, caring, learning to open up
me or them?

is this being christian?

books read, caffeine laden drinks imbibed
as we question the asumptions we always make
all the while wondering
if we should be down the street a little ways
instead of a place where money is exchanged
for a cup of liquid life...

energizing, addicting, refreshing
the drink or the company?

is this being christian?


surrounded by people i assumed
i could not understand or relate to
yet at the table accepted
in spite of the fact that
we are all from different worlds
but somehow find commonality

cursing, narrating, enjoying...
the place or the people?

souls bared, blood poured and body broken
in a dimly lit room
we seek something different
hoping that somehow
god will show up
and it will all finally make sense

enlightening, empowering, shaping
the sermon or the communion?

is this being christian?

Holy Santa Claus...

I've been fortunate this week to spend more time with my kids than I normally do. My wife has been out of town and my only conversation partners have been my six and nine year old daughters. As usual, I found wisdom from the mouths of babes...Everyone knows that all good conversations eventually point to Christmas, and being true to expectations, ours meandered from school to church to classmates to Santa Claus.

"Some kids at school say that Santa isn't real" my nine year old says.

I respond "Well - what do you think?"

"I don't tell them any more, since they're just looking for a way to make fun of me no matter what I say... But I do still believe."

"Santa is good to believe in..." I wisely respond.

Then the kicker...

"Do you think Santa brings gifts to those kids who don't believe in him?"

I was lost. I wanted to say - "Of course not!"

I stammered "I'm sure they get gifts from their parents". Deftly avoiding the real question.

But I got to thinking - what are we teaching our children when their one of the few "special" characters in their lives only brings treats and goodies to kids who profess their belief in him? What are we saying when we claim that "naughty or nice" is the arbiter of yuletide justice?

What I want to say is - "Naughty or nice, everyone gets gifts from Santa."

I'm not entirely sure why I feel this way, but I think it has something to do with my concept of grace. Capricious grace doesn't attract me any more. It used to. It gave me a sense of identity and accomplishment to know that I was "better" than those terrible sinners (liberals and Democrats a-plenty) out there, and that God loved me more because I behaved correctly and believed the right things.

But that's changed. I'm simply not terribly impressed with a benevolent supernatural being who meters out grace on their terms, to whom they choose.

However... I am drawn increasingly to a characterization of God/diety/whatever that shows the same graciousness towards all creatures, big or small, pretty or ugly, good or bad.

Sure... it's easy to be nice to and love those who worship me and give me their devotion. But what kind of deity loves even those who hate them? How does this vision of God affect how I relate to others, if I operate from the assumption that they are no more special or deserving of grace than me? Hmmm...

Maybe we'll just delete that verse from "Santa Claus is Coming to Town"...

What kind of list is Santa making then? Does God have a list? Am I on it?

Outsider...

I've always been an outsider - a wandering, itinerant, nomadic, migrant midwesterner. I went to 10 different schools between Kindergarten and High School graduation. I never played organized sports, was never in band or orchestra, and never got past the rank of First Class in Boy Scouts. I don't have BFFs, and have never attended my high school reunion. In fact, I've only been back to that small town in Arkansas twice since 1989. (Yup - I'm from Arkansas)

So... I've never been through enough therapy to help me deal with this sordid, yet wonderfully diverse past. I've got enough emotional baggage from my moving experiences to last me a lifetime. I don't know what to say when folks tell me they still know their childhood friends. I don't currently know any of mine. I'm not even sure if I can remember them. I can't conceive of growing up in the same house all of one's life, and living in the same town. I just can't relate.

The folks I relate to are Army brats, preacher's kids (PKs), and missionary kids (MKs). There's a comraderie in those who don't have an identity tied to a specific geography. We know how to unpack an entire house in less than a week. We know that you can't have a piano, grandma's antique china cabinet, or any other large or heavy items deemed unnecessary due to their bulk. We know how to live in generic, blandly decorated homes because the effort to "undo" any customizations outweigh the benefits of having something other than beige walls.

So I've got issues-a-plenty. But in spite of the whining about my past, there is at least one positive aspect. Because of my own experience, I understand the pain of being an outsider. I know how it feels to come into a new place with no friends, and to show up at school, not knowing anyone, and attempt to somehow make it through the first days and weeks without doing anything spectaclularly idiotic that would forever brand me as nerd, wierdo, slacker, whatever... Since I know how it feels, it pains me to see it happen to someone else. I'm motivated to DO something.

I'm also made keenly aware of grace - the grace of a group of people who have and continue to embrace me, not because I deserve it, but because they too have experienced this kind of grace. And because they have embraced and loved me, I know the grace of God. I'm no longer an outsider - I'm a part of the "in" crowd. Funny thing is - I haven't changed one bit - I simply relaxed, stopped trying to get everyone to like me, and realized that they already did. Kind of like what we hear in church, but never seem to live into - God loves us, even when we don't love back. The part I didn't catch was that if this were true, that no one could really lay claim to special status with God, that we're all pretty messed up and in need of grace. "Ragamuffins" was the word used in the passage that served as a transformational nexus for a new understanding of how much God really loves me.

And because I've experienced grace, I'm motivated to "be" grace for some outsider, some underdog. Because I know how it feels to have experienced grace, I'm motivated to DO something.

It boils down to this for me: Because I know the pain of being an outsider, and the joy of grace, I've been changed. I think that's a big part of what being Christian is about.

I Wanna be a Universalist...

In case you hadn't already noticed, I've decided that the ellipsis (...) has fallen into considerable disuse. Due to its current underutilization, and to the fact that my fourth grader hasn't even been introduced to the wonders of the ellipsis, I've taken it upon myself to make it my punctuation of choice... Down with periods, commas, and semicolons!

I do a lot of driving. One hour every day is dedicated to simply getting back and forth to work. The radio stays on the only two stations that seem to make me think:

National Public Radio and the local Classic Rock station.

(Of course I keep the local Christian radio station programmed to appease my more conservative companions)

In the way home last week, words and notes suddently sprang into life...

(To the tune of "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas")

I want to be a universalist Christian.
Only universalism will do.
Don't want no open theism, no silly gnostic ploy.
I want a theology I can live with and enjoy.

OkOk... So it's not all that great, and probably won't be on anyone's top ten list.

So...

I want to be a universalist. The concept of a God who loves creation enough to redeem it - all of it, makes me want to believe it could be true. I know it essentially destroys the concept of freewill, to which I'm firmly attached, but there's something about it that I can't dismiss.

I think the appeal stems from too much hellfire and brimstone preaching received as a kid, which painted a distorted "God doesn't like you until you pray the sinner's prayer" picture of God. A turning point for me was Brennan Manning's "Ragamuffin Gospel", which challenged me to see the universality of the human condition, our propensity to harm others and ourselves, and that the best we can hope for on our own is to "clean ourselves up" a bit, but we're all still really just Ragamuffins. He then paints a wonderful picture of God's grace that can truly transform us by accepting us unconditionally, warts and all...

It wasn't until recently that I was really exposed to those who would carry this concept to its logical conclusion. WNBC (Wednesday Night Book Club) recently worked through Gulley and Mulholland's "If Grace is True", which attempts to make a case for Universalism. Through a mainly narrative and pastoral approach, we're led down a road to meet a God who literallly will not let his creation go. The essence of this approach is that in the presence of God, finally coming face with who we are, and who God is, that we will be unable to resist such grace - even if it takes until we're in the afterlife to experience it.

I think it's been good for me to be introduced to folks who really believe this stuff. Their story makes me want for it to be true, even if I've come to the conclusion that I can't accept it on philosophical grounds. But what would the world look like if we lived like it were true?