I have announced that I intend to buy nothing new during Lent. Buying nothing new is difficult. In fact, I have failed at least once. On Presidents’ Day, I bought a kitchen garbage can at Costco, the type that opens automatically with a simple swipe of the hand. My wife was not up for the trip; we had looked at it before Lent and intended to buy it once we had done our research so the responsibility fell on my shoulders. The problem is not so much that I bought it but rather I did it without thinking that it is Lent. I am starting to realize that buying new things is a somewhat automatic reflex.
Proverbs chapter 17, verse 1, reads, “Better is a dry morsel with quiet, than a house full of feasting with strife.” A contemporary version is this, “Better is a dry crust of bread eaten in peace and quiet than a feast eaten where the family argues.” Are we not supposed to give children food they want to eat and surround them with the latest technology to make them happy? Are we not as parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, supposed to give good things to our children? So says our consumer culture but Scriptures say no. It is better to have a dry morsel of food to eat with a family that is peaceful and quiet than to give children whatever they want and have arguments. We had many shared meals in Russia but the families did not provide a feast. And, at the center of each table was dry, dark rye Russian bread. I don’t remember much about the food but I do remember the peace and quiet of sharing it knowing God was present with us. Rye bread brings me back to those tables even today. A parishioner told me about a dinner encounter this past week at a local nice, sit-down restaurant. A family of four (mom, dad, two kids) came in and once they were settled, out came two iPads for the kids and two phones for the parents. As far as my parishioner could tell, they talked to the waitress but not to each other. It was a feast (in fact, it may have been advertised as “A family feast for 4”), and it was quiet, but I wonder if it was peaceful. As I write this, I am trying not to compare myself to them. When I was in 6th grade, I was taught, and expected on occasion, to order for my entire family at a restaurant – starting with Mom first, then Dad, my brother and then myself. The look of surprise on the server’s face was always fun. The look of surprise on my face when she handed me the bill was another. We didn’t eat out very often, mainly for special occasions or once when the power went out. My parents brought things for my brother and me to entertain ourselves and I am certain that if iPads existed back then, we would have had them. But, we also were expected to communicate, to commune, with each other. Our advertising culture singles us out and makes us want things to satisfy ourselves; it makes us believe we can have a feast and peace at the same time. But we can’t. It’s a lie. You know, I don’t remember much about the food we shared as a family but I do remember the communing. It could have been a dry morsel of bread for all I remember. The important thing was the fellowship and peace. -Fr. Dave Last year I wrote that fasting is one of the hardest spiritual practices for me because I like food. As an alternative, I suggested what Pope Francis had outlined in a recent article. As I wrote earlier, I’d like to fast from advertising which is rather pollyannic since advertising is so pervasive in my social and economic circle. Besides, the point of fasting in Lent is to identify ways that we are pulled from God and then do something that brings us to a closer relationship with our Creator. Advertising pulls me away from communion with God by replacing that relationship with things/desires/tastes; it also pulls me away from loving my neighbor by creating competition with what they have compared to what I have. As previously noted, I do feel superior to others when I carry around a Starbucks coffee. However, I noticed that when I carry around my reusable shiny metal Starbucks 20-ounce container, I still feel loftier than those who do not have one. Last week, while in line at a Starbucks with a parishioner, I couldn’t help but feel better than the people who were using landfill cups. I’m sorry about it; but it’s true. As such, I am going to avoid going to Starbucks for 40 days and 40 nights and I will put duct tape over the symbol to see if that does the trick. Also, I am going to start writing about what it’s like to buy nothing new until Easter. Look for it on my Facebook page.
In the tradition that Pope Francis wrote his list (Fast from hurting words – say kind words; Fast from sadness – be filled with gratitude; Fast from pessimism – be filled with hope), here is my 2018 list. Fast from desire – God provides everything. Fast from the easiness of fast food – It took God 7 days to create. Fast from disquiet about politics – God is in charge of everything. Fast from the lure of selfishness – Jesus became like a servant to set us free. Fast from thinking better about myself – God knows the heart of everyone. Fast from the thrill of Starbucks – Remember Jesus was in the desert for 40 days. Fast from obsessing about the news – God has the whole world in his hands. Fast from wanting more – pray for people who have less; much, much less. Come to think of it, I should fast from these things for an entire year, not just Lent. - Fr. Dave A clergy friend of mine wrote something that has struck a chord in me. Fr. Mike Flynn wrote that the closer we get to Jesus, the quieter he speaks which necessitates that we constantly listen and have dicey faith so that we are persuaded by his small still voice.
It is reported in all four Gospels that Jesus went to quiet places to pray. Since no one has ever been closer to God than Jesus it behooves us to pay attention to his habits. What if, for example, Jesus went to desolate and quiet places simply to enjoy the intimacy of his relationship with the Creator. I imagine it this way – there are two ways I know what I am thinking. One is to talk to someone in order to bounce ideas off them. They often sound very different on the rebound. The other is to sit quietly by myself to think and listen and draw as close as I can to the Creator and Sustainer. Maybe Jesus was the same and would either bounce ideas off other people or go off to quiet places to think and talk to the Holy Undivided Trinity. The Gospels give examples of Jesus doing both of those. Back to the main issue – the closer one is to Jesus, the quieter he speaks. This means those who are far off hear him well and those who are near do not. That is not how we, as humans, like things. I never imagine the prophet Isaiah having a hard time hearing God speak. Jeremiah, Noah, even Jonah, seemed to hear God loud and clear. Yet, based on Fr. Flynn’s principle, they too, like you and me, must be intentional when listening to God. Moses had to go up to Mt. Sinai for 40 days to hear God’s voice. That is a long time to spend alone with anyone. But that is how close Moses was to God. The great prophet Elijah had to spend time in the wilderness by himself to hear God. He was in a cave and heard hurricane force winds but knew God was not in the wind. He went through a massive wildfire but knew that God wasn’t in the fire. He survived a giant earthquake but knew God was not in the shaking of the ground. Then, he heard a soft whisper in a gentle breeze. He left the protection of the cave and listened for the Lord. (1 Kings 19:11-13) I imagine Mother Teresa in conversation with God. You would think she was so close to God that she could hear him easily. As it turns out, based on the Flynn principle and on what she herself reported, she had to strain to hear God the same as you and I. That also means the so-called holy people of our day have to really pay attention to what God is saying because his voice is so quiet to them. This is a humbling principle. I think that God speaks loudly to folks we call new Christians. They’re on fire for the Lord. But the closer they draw, the softer Jesus speaks which might lead to discouragement. I know folks who have entered AA and clearly heard God. But, the more steps they took, and the longer they lived into their sobriety, the quieter Jesus spoke. I certainly experienced this in seminary. I heard Jesus quite well during my discernment. But then, during my three-year formation, the voice of Jesus got softer and softer. It’s nice to know if Jesus’ voice is still and quiet, it’s not that I’m not drifting from Jesus, rather he is inviting me to get closer to hear. During very difficult times in ministry, I feel close to Jesus as if I am sitting at a small coffee shop table with him. Yet, in those intimate times, Jesus beckons me to come closer and speaks in a whisper. As we live into a holy Lenten season by letting go of things that hold us from a closer walk with God, we should at the same time practice listening for that soft whisper on a gentle breeze. -Fr. Dave Don’t look now but Lent is coming. Traditionally, something is given up during Lent to draw us closer to Jesus. If giving up chocolate brings you closer to Christ, then please give it up for the 40-day season. However, if you are looking for something a little more challenging, you might want join me on my Lenten quest.
I am deeply concerned about our advertising culture. Besides ruining the English language, advertising inundates us with commercials while we are doing something as simple as reading a story on-line or checking up with friends on Facebook. This past week, I read a story on my Google news feed but found myself reading a two-inch tall by five-inch-wide pop-up ad on the top and bottom with scrolling advertisements along the side. For those that receive the newspaper, how much weight, literally, is the news and how much is print advertising? Reading the news is not my Lenten concern. You see, advertising works is by making you feel bad. The worse you feel, the better their product looks. Advertising also puts us in competition with our neighbors. Envy is a highly effective marketing tool. Making you feel bad and envy your neighbor’s things is a sure fire recipe for sales! I find it impossible to love God with my whole heart while coveting what others have. I can’t be envious and in competition with my neighbors and simultaneously love them like myself. I think if I give up advertising for Lent, I’ll be in a closer walk with Jesus by Easter. There is a problem: I can’t entirely give up advertising. It is too prevalent, widespread and rampant in my life. As a follower of Jesus, what am I to do? During Lent, I am not going to buy anything new. No new clothes, no new gadgets, no new exercise clothes, no new tools, and no new books. Yikes! I can’t believe I just wrote that. But, it gets worse. I am not going to buy any fast food I have seen advertised. No Jack in the Box. No Black Angus. No… Starbucks? Uggh. Worse yet, every Sunday morning for the past ten years (I am not exaggerating), I get a breakfast sandwich and iced coffee from McDonalds. What am I going to do? To be honest, there is something about carrying around a Starbucks drink that makes me feel better than those who are not. There, I said it and that’s a practice I must stop. Here are some exceptions. I wear a size 15 shoe. If I need a new pair of shoes, I have to buy them new. Buying food at a grocery store that advertises is a necessity. Elijah’s birthday falls in Lent. I am going to buy him a present or two. That’s it. On the flip side, if I absolutely need a new tool, kitchen device, work out shirt, or gadget, there is a new Goodwill store nearby. There is Craigslist.com, which I have used to buy and sell things. Even Amazon.com has a used section. The point is this – advertising is bad for the human soul. It sets us against each other, against what we have already been blessed with, and creates a hole in our hearts that is only temporarily filled with buying more things. At our Bible study class on Wednesday, I brought up this Lenten idea. One parishioner said she’ll join me and will save the money she’d normally spend on new things and give it as her Easter gift. Now that truly is a new life experience! The economy is doing just fine. Consumer confidence is quite high. They’re not going to miss us for 40-days. Will you join me this Lent and refrain from being influenced by our advertising culture? -Fr. Dave Do you have a smart phone? If so, did you know that Apple phones and Android phones have the ability to find your phone if you lose it? The technology is pretty neat. If you can’t find your phone, you can enable it to show you on a map where it is, and, on some models, it can make a loud sound, even if the ringer is turned off. We discovered this week what happens when an earthquake causes tsunami warnings. Did your phone go off and alert you? Many folks were woken from sleep in Alaska to alert them of a possible incoming wave. On Saturday, the Marshalls visited some clergy friends. The directions I had seemed to miss a step. I asked my phone to give me directions, which it did; come to find out we were very close to his house. That technology is pretty neat.
There is another side, however, that as your pastor, I think you should know about. In an article written by David Yanofsky, he and a team of researchers discovered some of what your phone knows and what it tracks. The list is pretty astounding. Using a variety of different manufactures, the researchers found out that your phone predicts the likelihood of you walking, riding a bicycle, traveling on a bus, on a train or in a car. Your phone records the barometric pressure and elevation of your location. It records whether or not you are connected to a Wi-Fi signal, the frequency strength of the signal, the signal strength of every other Wi-Fi signal near you, the location, name and strength of other Bluetooth beacons, the voltage of your battery, how much power you have left in it and whether or not you are charging your phone. This information is all logged into your location history. Additionally, your phone is always listening. Always. If you say certain key words, it will fire up to do a requested action. This past week, my phone has responded twice during meetings asking if I wanted to perform some sort of task. I no longer keep my phone near me (within ear shot) when I have a pastoral meeting. Your phone also knows your voice and can read your finger print. This is the type of stuff that George Orwell, in his famous book, 1984, could not even dream of. Yet, it is happening right now in your pocket, your purse, or wherever you keep your phone. There is a way to “turn off” this stuff. Find the Location History in your phone and opt out. The reason why I put in quotations “turn off” is because I don’t think it really turns it off. When you delete a file from your computer, it is not really deleted. What is removed is the title of the file. The information remains. Imagine it like this. You have a file drawer with 20 files in it. Instead of throwing away a file, you just simply remove the title. Eventually, you’ll need the space so you will remove a file when you need the room. But, until that time, the data, or pages, remain. I think even with opting out of location history, your phone does what it does, it tracks, listens, records and waits. A couple of Sundays ago, I preached on Psalm 139. After reading about what my phone does, and most likely yours too, I read verse 1 and 2 in a new way. “Lord, you have searched me out and know me; you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from afar.” The difference I see for Christians is this, God doesn’t need special technology to know these things about us. God simply knows. God created us, knows us, and watches over us – not for commercial gain (like selling advertising space on your phone because it knows you are near a particular store) – but for love. Another difference is this, we can’t opt out of God’s love or God’s watching over us. And really, why would we. -Fr. Dave |