Message or Fact

Lately I've been thinking about the information overload in today's society, and how fundamentally, technology doesn't make getting the truth easier, it merely changes the means by which honest and dishonest folk communicate their messages.

I've been disturbed lately by some of the blogs I follow which discuss the wholesale manipulation of photography in the middle east. This editorial illustrates the concerns rather well.

It's easy for the message - "Innocent civilians hurt by big mean army" - to become far more important than whether or not we're actually being shown truthful shots of innocent civilians hurt by a big mean army.

It's also easy for us to be very confident in our world view, without good support. How do we know what is happening in Iraq? Well, because we have news. How do we know that the news is a realistic or accurate portrayal of the situation? Because they interview a few people? Because all the news reports the same thing? Because the politicians don't dispute the news? Because they quote statistics?

In reality, news can only capture a small fragment of life. The morning newspaper probably doesn't correspond closely to the average daily life. Few of us were murdered, mugged, or subjected to arson in the last day. That's not entirely bad - that's just how news works.

But when we begin to rely on the news for forming opinions, and especially when the news is not even being honest in their reporting of the details, how can we trust our views on situations?

I've been thinking lately about the value of integrity in society, and how it matters for so many jobs.

Janitor? It's a real nuisance when stuff starts disappearing.
Clerk?
Chief Financial Officer? It's a federal diasaster when millions in funds start disappearing.
Auditor? Arthur Anderson...
Reporter?
Photographer?
Diplomat?
Politician?
Parent?
Pastor?
Citizen?

Disturbing Friendships

I came across this link in the very cool Freakonomics blog. Basically, a guy is selling himself as a "Rent-A-Pal" for 30 days, including unlimited e-mails. I'm not sure if this offer means that he'll send as many e-mails as one wants, or just that he won't report them all as spam.

I am a bit surprised that nobody has bid the $20 minimum yet. It can be hard to get someone to listen to you, and I figured some internet loner would put $20 down to get some social interaction.

I suppose if the selling bid is high enough, I might consider making myself available as an internet pal. Perhaps I could sell myself as an internet counselor and discount my services to $40-$60/hr. Some disclaimers would have to apply about advice being purely for entertainment purposes.

I spent part of today merging my old Pine addressbook with my primary Outlook one. It was interesting to go back at all the different names I've stored. Some of them are of people I barely interacted with, and yet I can instantly identify who they are and how they are connected to me. Other are of people that I *think* I knew for a period of time, yet I cannot place the name at all.

There's also a weird sense looking through the names. There are people I frequently interacted with a year ago that I rarely think of today. There are people that I rarely interacted with that I often ponder what happened to them. I'm also reminded of the people who have wandered back into my life after I was sure they were gone forever.

Finally, I'm reminded how solitary our life journey tends to be. I have a some friends I still keep in contact five years ago. A much smaller group from eight or nine years ago. And just a handful from beyond that. (I actually suspect that I keep in touch with more high school acquaintances than people from my freshman year of college.)

Even with the multi-year friendships, most of them have ebbed and flowed over time. People drift into life for a while, then out, then back. And then there's the plain bizarre, like long distance friends who move to my neighborhood.

In thinking through the solitariness of life, I've been contemplating what it means to influence people. My church likes to talk about the vision of knowing God, helping others to know God, and helping others to help others to know God. (And yes, for the math geeks reading, that is a recursive vision.)

I'll try and blog again about my contemplativeness after it cools.

Stuff, stuff, stuff everywhere...

...and not a bit to use.

So I've spent the last few weeks helping several people move. Or at least, eating the food they provide when I show up to help them move. I'm not entirely sure how helpful I've been in every case.

Today's move reminded me of a couple hobbies my parents tried to involve me in growing up - gardening and fish. But I've also gotten to thinking about how much stuff I have...and how much of it I ever use. I'm struck by the 80-20 rule. I use 20% of my stuff 80% of the time. Actually, I suspect it's more like I use 10% of my stuff 90% of the time...and most of it never. But I tend to think of things like "Well, who knows when I'll use this 'Get well' card...it'd be a horrible thing to get rid of, only to discover that I really need one."

Now could I find that card when I actually need it? Probably not. Would I even think of the fact that I have it? Probably not. But it faithfully sits on my shelf, collecting dust and being remembered mostly in cleaning sprees and blog entries.

My desk happens to have a 1 page printout of Master of Orion 3's keyboard shortcuts. Total cost to recreate: Maybe 3 cents? It has sat on my desk for months. I feel that way about a lot of my possessions: With the right alignment of the moon, it'd be useful. Most of the time, it just takes up space.

From time to time, I've thought about finding a giant box and putting all of my various unused items in it and inviting my friends to sort through it. (Anyone looking for a copy of KOTOR I?)

It's weird. I'm hesitant to throw anything away for fear of being wasteful, and yet I'm not clear that my room is serving any purpose for many items other than being a temporary landfill.

It's a problem that makes it hard for me to jump into hobbies. I know my tendency to collect stuff, and I don't really care to jump into a hobby just to collect more stuff.

So today I've been thinking about "What does it mean to be responsible with my stuff? What do I really need to keep? How do I accumulate less that I won't use? And what do I do with the stuff that 'ought' to be useful, but never is? For example, my compass for drawing circles."

Resume Padding

I remember a discussion with a friend of mine who graduated top of his class in engineering. It was about all of the honor societies which had invited him to join. Pay $50, $75 or $100 bucks and you can become a lifetime member of this "prestigious" organization. A few of them actually did something during the year (meet, network, invite contacts), but often the invites felt more like a mass mailing scam where a Nigerian con-artist sent a "Congratulations. You are one of a select few invited to join this honorary society every year...." letter to every student.

Inevitable, one of the plugs for these societies was resume building. The implicit message: For only $60, you can put this prestigious title on your resume. Employers (who certainly have never been to college themselves) will be overwhelmed by your credibility and competence.

I've been thinking lately about this saying of Jesus:

Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven.

It's the opposite of resume building. Resume building is "Doing community service? Add it to your resume." Or "Have you been recognized by a few others? Flaunt the award to as many others as possible?"

At work recently, a co-worker complimented me for a piece of work that has drastically increased our visual presentation. He's right - it's a significant improvement. The only problem? Even though I'm usually the one who people see with the work (because of my job), my total contribution on this work is about 0.5%.

After some contemplation, I've decided I like credit and recognition from others. And when others don't recognize most of my 'acts of righteousness,' I'm not above helping their thinking along. After all, it's not good to let people be naive or oblivious.

Perhaps scarier is the hesitation - a bit grumbling - after my co-worker compliments me. "God, must I disillusion him about my contribution?" I'm not terribly serious about my complaint, but the thought definitely enters my mind on a very trivial matter.

If credit is so appealing in the little things, how am I going to fair in the larger matters? If being just with credit is a challenge, how will I do when it is unjustly given to others? Do I really believe that God sees?

Incidentally, my friend's solution to the prolific honor society invites? He simply added "Invited to join numerous honor societies" to his list of accomplishments which was then read during his graduation. Entirely free too.

I'm a little slow, but...

So I was reading this story recently about how Lutherans, Catholics, and Methodists signed a historic document, jointly agreeing on the doctrine of justification. Actually, the Catholics and Lutherans apparently signed it a few years ago, with the text here.

Now I'm a bit slow when it comes to doctrinal stuff, but a few questions sprang to mind reading through the document.

What has changed in the past 400 years? Is theology progressive, like science? Are we better at philosophy, theology, and ethics than we were 400 years ago? Are we smarter than the men (both sides) debating then? I'm not at all convinced that theology is like technology, which gets better with every generation.

The declaration has statements like

Our common way of listening to the word of God in Scripture has led to such new insights.

and

The Lutheran churches and the Roman Catholic Church have together listened to the good news proclaimed in Holy Scripture. This common listening, together with the theological conversations of recent years, has led to a shared understanding of justification.

What about each groups' understanding has changed? It's great that new insights and a shared understanding have been reached. What were they reach from? Whose understandings have changed in the last 400 years?

Out of curiosity, how did this issue get so misunderstood 400 years ago that doctrinal condemnations were issued? Is anyone the least bit apologetic for false condemning the other falsely? (Were those condemnations false?)

Could a document this important be written in a way that a common American could understand? I'm all for incomprehensible theology, but it'd be nice to have a "what we really mean is ..." version.

Could one finish the must statements with consequences?

But the justified must all through life constantly look to God's unconditional justifying grace [or else what?]

The justified also must ask God daily for forgiveness as in the Lord's Prayer (Mt. 6:12; 1 Jn 1:9), are ever again called to conversion and penance, and are ever again granted forgiveness. [Or else what?]

Is this Johnny must eat his peas or else he won't have desert? Johnny must eat his peas or else he will be spanked? Johnny must eat his peas or else he will be shipped to outer Mongolia?

The justified must ask God daily for forgiveness or else what...? They aren't forgiven for their sins? They suffer disconnection from God despite remaining his children? God smites them with lightning?

For A Few Pennies More

So I've been doing a poor job of blogging lately. I've been hoping that inspiration would hit for talking about geishas, but somehow I just haven't felt like the topic would be very interesting.

Instead I've been thinking about fundraising. Periodically I get fundraising letters from friends and acquaintances - even the occasional enemy. I've gotten a few recently, and they've reminded me of my middle school fundraisers. Boxes of chocolate bars were the method of choice. As I recall, the bigwigs had a big (read: hot, loud, large, uncomfortable) assembly where they dazzled us with all the prizes we could win based on the number of boxes chocolate we sold (36 bars/box). Every student was supposed to sell at least one box, asking anyone (and everyone) to buy a bar or two or ten. Parents were supposed to take boxes into co-workers, etc., etc.

Fundraising in American is a strange beast. Instead of simply asking people to donate, we entice them with a value of nominal value at an inflated price. Companies are glad to be seen as aiding charity by providing products for a small profit plus marketing. Sometimes rather than provide supporters with a token, we assure them that we'll adequately suffer to earn their dollars - walking/biking/swimming/crawling some distance is popular, although occasional more creative ordeals are created (e.g. going without food/sleep/water/caffeine for 24, 36, or 48+ hours).

Here's a few questions I've been thinking about:
Why do I give for incentive? If I think the cause is worthy, why don't I simply give the whole amount for it? If I want the item, why don't I go buy one and then give the difference toward the charity?

Why don't I give without being asked? Am I unaware of good causes until asked for my money? Are my priorities/budget in giving so unclear that I primarily only give when asked? Are the causes I'm asked to support better than the ones I find on my own?

Do I typically respond to requests from within my budget? Do my financial habits reflect that I expect to be regularly giving toward various causes?

Do I have a priority framework for unexpected requests? Do I budget for these occurrences? For example, students I know often go to a summer Christian training program called "Leadership Training." I appreciate the program, and while I usually don't know who exactly is going, I budget money with the expectation that I will be asked.

Am I primarily being a producer or a conduit? Do I produce money to give to others, or do I connect other people with places for them to give? In giving, am I a businessman (who makes money) or a lobbyist (who tries to convince others how to spend their money)? I've been thinking about a quote by St. Paul:

He who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with his own hands, that he may have something to share with those in need.

One of the purposes of my work is have something to give to others.

Don't get me wrong: I do not think being conduit-like is bad - even this blog entry is part conduit. And there's a difference between being a conduit and serving in a position that is supported by giving (e.g. missionary). But I easily make the mistake of urging others to give rather than developing financial habits and career skills that will enable me to give generously from what I make.

The Outsider

Lately I've been contemplating something Paul wrote about his missionary trip to Thessalonica (pronounced "City of Thes" when I can't remember the ending):

We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us

We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you our lives. Paul is about the people who became Christians during his first trip to Thes (Acts 17). These aren't people that he's known very long; these aren't long-time devoted Christ followers (although most of the initial followers were God-fearing people from the Jewish synagogue). I'm not even clear if all of these people were Christians at the time Paul was living with them.

And yet the result of his love was that he was delighted to not only share theological truth (the gospel), but his life as well. Sharing our lives makes us vulnerable...especially toward people who are mostly strangers, in a strange city, with strange customs. Paul certainly had enough skeletons to be more than a little uncomfortable with sharing himself.

"Me? How did God reach me? Well, I was the stiff-necked guy that he had to knock off a horse...What was I doing on the horse? Oh...well...I was going to try to go kill some Christians."

This story does a good job of putting Paul in perspective...and should be worth a laugh or two.

I remember when I first heard this verse placed in the context of community. I don't remember much about that teaching, but it has really stuck with me over the years as a reflection of Paul's heart toward people. (Much of 1 Thes 2 is very thought-provoking in that regard.)

I'm not very threatened by the question "Does my love for people lead me to delight in sharing truth with them?". But the question "Does my love of people lead me to delight in sharing life with them?" starts making me squirm a bit: Impersonal truth is far easier for me than open involvement. I'm not sure love can be love without both truth and openness.

Depraved, depraved I tell you

So here's a thought provoking article looking at the idea of innate goodness in people:
Freakonomics Depravity. What can I say...statistics and theology. What's not to like?

As a side note, I'm tracking interest in the Geisha vs church discussion. Here's a few stats:

Number of requests: 11
Average requests/person: <2
Average requests/person/week: <0.6
Average request/post: 2
# comments attempting flattery/manipulation/interest with thoughtful interactions with the post at hand prior to demand: 1

Best Laid Plans of Mice & Men

The plans of the heart belong to man,
But the answer of the tongue is from the Lord

I've been thinking about this saying lately. Actually, I've been thinking of a conversation I had with a mentor friend of mine a long, long time ago when I asked him "Of whose tongue is the saying speaking?"

We ended up in a discussion about initiative verses success, and some of the many arenas where we're highly dependent on others: Education, jobs, friendship, romance, etc.

I can answer a test, but grading rest in the professor's hands.
I can hunt for a job, but hiring is not my decision.
I can ask my boss for a raise, but he controls the purse strings.
I can invite others to be my friend, but friendship requires their acceptance.
I can ask for a woman's heart, but the relationship is based on her reply.

I'm sobered to think about how much of my daily life is dependent, in part or totally, on the replies of others. We strive so hard to make our lives independent - automated banking, twenty-four hour grocery stores, fast-food, and online shopping. But most major decisions - and many minor ones, are still heavily dependent on other's will: My social life, home purchasing and living arrangements leap to mind.

I'm not sure I like this scheme where God answers my plans through others. I'm not sure at all.

Quality Roots

So I finally re-potted my big plant (right) yesterday. And I tried to make it reproduce (baby plant, left). The big plant was in the white plastic pot that the baby plant was in. The root to soil ratio was probably 4:1, suggesting that it was long overdue for a re-potting. I'm not quite sure it will survive as I wrecked it's root system to untangle them from a tight ball, although my mom should be proud of me for remembering to break up the roots.

Then baby plant was the tiny offshoot from big plant which I broke off and stuck in some moist soil. I'm not quite sure it will survive other. I'm a bit rusty on my plant biology, but I vaguely recall no roots is very bad for plants. On the other hand, my friends assure me that spider plants are indestructible. So maybe this is a "What happens when the unstoppable force of my ability to kill plants meets the immovable force of spider plants?" question.

Now above is a genuine Yucca plant. These live in the forsaken deserts of New Mexico. They are basically a growing half-sphere of spikes. Unfortunately, the non-sphere portion is the against the ground, which tends to be comprised of granite or other rock. Since spikes are generally considered undesirable in one's lawn, I spent a fair amount of time growing up to rid the lawn of these nuisances.

The simple approach was to take a pick mattock, place a well aimed blow at the point where the Yucca and the ground connected, and sever the spikes from the root. Unfortunately, this approach doesn't work so well because the Yucca has an amazing tap root which goes deep into the ground and will simply regrow. So shortly one simply has a smaller, harder to see protruding ball of spikes. The proper approach was to first sever the ball, then dig/hack/smash about six inches into the rock and take out about six inches of the tap root.

Re-potting my plants has gotten me thinking about the Yucca, and what it means to be deeply rooted. I don't work much with plants, and I tend to forget how tenacious and intertwining root systems are, even interfering with drain pipes.

Spirals: Inward, Downward, Onward

I've recently created a hypothesis: Life is a set of spirals, or at least, self-fulfilling prophecies. Or, in physics terms, an object in motion will continue in motion unless acted upon by another force.

School/Jobs: There's a self-momentum to education. Good grades in high school makes good grades in college easier, which makes good jobs easier.

Friendships: Friendships are rarely static. They tend continue moving closer, moving rapidly apart, or reinforcing the distance that exists. Yes, momentum can shift (and periodically does), but the past is a remarkably good predictor of the future.

Group Efforts: Getting a new group going is an amazingly challenging task. But once the group gets going, it tends to have a culture which is incredibly difficult to change. Eventually the momentum will shift toward decline.

Hurricanes: And tornados. Enough said.

Maybe I'm confusing spirals with entropy: Everything moves toward decay unless energy is put into the system. Or maybe life isn't about spirals. Maybe it is circles.

X-men, Magicians, Someone

So lately I've been watching reruns of the X-Men cartoons (which, yes, I used to watch in my childhood), as well as having caught the third movie. Fundamentally, I decided recently, the X-men are really sorcerers. There's a thin "genetic" explanation for their mutant powers which might work for a few such as Wolverine or, say, Xavier. But for most mutants, science can't begin to fathom a genetic explanation:

Cyclops: Solar energy is converted into a concentrated laser beam. Now we're pretty good at our energy science, and last I checked, energy is conserved. Remember those solar lamps which if you are lucky and live in a sunny state can absorb energy during the day and power a garden lamp at night? Cyclops' energy intake to expenditure ratio is, well, energy creative.

Iceman: Ice is another one of those very well understood sciences. To make ice, one needs water...and low temperature. Cooling happens to be another very well understood science. And the suggestion that with a little genetic alteration, the human body can act as a Zamboni machine...is well, magic.

Pyro: Manipulating fire is a cool talent. Unfortunately, fire requires fuel (wood, gas, oil) as well as oxygen. So for Pyro to be manipulating fire, he basically needs to be fueling by materializing an unknown fuel to feed the fire. By the time we're at matter creation, we're either at magic or godhood.

Colossus: Do I even want to start with the ability to generate a metal skin from...um...no where?

I'm fascinated, though, by how much the control of the supernatural captivates us. One friend once observed that he thought we have an almost intuitive understanding that there ought be a way to shape reality other than physically - it's almost like we're reaching for a lost ability. Here's a few other thoughts I have:

- We want to be someone chosen. Magicians and mutants are called - often self-called - to a greater purpose, whether for good or evil. They live above the humdrums of every day lives, pursuing deeper, fuller meanings of life that effect everyone around them.

- We want to be special. We don't want just to be chosen randomly, but we want to be someone who is truly one in a billion. We resent the "Remember, you're unique...just like everyone else" sentiment. Magic is reserved for the few, the chosen, the handful.

- We identify with the theme of being outcast because of our specialness. It's not very flattering to have been ostracized because one was a jerk, or just happened to be the weak kid. But to be downtrodden because I am one of the chosen, someone truly unique, with special gifts - to be a martyr of sorts - resonates with us.

I know if those inclinations are all bad. But I do think our tendency to view specialness and chosenness based upon our abilities and position is a psychological minefield for both us and those around us.

Blog? Blog?

So I've been very, very bad about blogging recently. Probably because I've either been stressed and/or dealing with stuff that doesn't blog well. I've also been thinking about 1st Samuel (Bible book) recently, but will restrain myself from actually blogging on it for a few more days.

I was reading a book on money this weekend and it was talking about the idea that our financial decisions fall into two categories: Short-term (taxes, debt payments, giving, life style, and savings), and long-term (investment, major life purchases, charity, children's education, etc.) The author was talking about the idea that the longer term our perspective was, the better our financial decisions were likely to be.

It wasn't terribly revolutionary for me, but the short/long-term breakdown was very helpful. I tend to feel pressured to make too much happen too fast, and it was helpful to see goals broken down into short and long-term. I think I've also been a bit too influenced by the "If you were to die in a year, how would you spend your money/time/life?" questions.

The reality is that if I knew that I'd die in a year, I could afford to do things that I couldn't do if I knew I'd live twenty. I could probably deprive myself of sleep and vacation for a year. For twenty...not such a good idea. I'm realizing that I see the "If you were..." questions are really cool for emphasizing reflection priorities, but not so helpful for actually formulating a plan. It's the same thing with "What if Jesus was coming back next week?"

I also don't like an entirely long-term strategy such as "I'm going to invest my money and when I die, give it and all its interest to my church instead of giving regularly now". I'm not sure that my church could pay it's bills via this stratgy.)

Another point that the book made was about people: Financial planning and wisdom is a means to an end. Financial displine and wisdom is not unique to Christians. What makes Christians unique is the ends toward which they spend their money. Well, what ought to make Christians unique. Statistics are a little frightening about both the ends and means of how Christians actually spend their money.

Sigh. Now I'm thinking of some financial habits I should really change. Time to quit musing deep insights and go apply them.

'Till Death Do Us Part

I periodically stumble across a obituary that catches my attention. Usually I'm struck by how people are portrayed after their death. The CEO of Michelin (the tire maker) died recently in a boating accident. Here's some sy what is mentioned about him:

He was charming
He one of France's finest business men
He was passionate about business, and inspired that passion in others
He was brilliant, dynamic, and humane.

As fine and admirable as those qualities are, I don't think they are what I'd want my friends or co-workers mentioning if they were given a single quote to describe my life.

On the other side of life, I have the honor of being in the wedding of a couple good friends this weekend. I'm sure I'll have many more reflections after the wedding (not to mention that I really should write my 'Why geishas are more relaxing than going to church' reflection after last night. But here's one I've been thinking about tonight: The custom of the father giving the bride to the groom, symbolizing the transfer of responsibility for protecting her from the father to the husband (among other symbols).

What about women makes protection appropriate? Does offering protection imply that the protectee is weaker? Is genuine protection ever offered without implying value? What does it mean for a husband to protect his wife? His daughter?

A Penny Saved...is Worthless

A friend introduced me a while ago to Dave Ramsey. The site, once you get through all the glitz, has some very good advice. Essentially Dave deals with the question "How do I wisely deal with my money?" One of the sections that makes me wince is the "Stupid Tax" section, where people share stories of ways they've been taxed on their stupidity. I think I just hate the fact that many life lessons have to cost money...in some cases, lots and lots of money.

I just started poking around the site recently, and so I've been thinking about how much our money handling skills impact our lives; about why it is one of the top five sources of marital conflict; about why Jesus talked so much about money. Here's a few thoughts to ponder with me...

Is it really true that my heart goes where I spend my money?
What does it mean to be content?
What does it mean to be grateful with great wealth?
What does it mean to be wise with great wealth?

Do I believe that contentment is related to wealth? (Corollary: Do I feel guilty of the poor because I believe they are incapable of contentment without wealth?)

Why do I work? What benefits and goals am I pursuing?

Ramsey has a quote to the effect of "The purpose of job benefits is to be a benefit to us. There's no point in pursuing benefits that don't benefit our interests, nor of paying a higher cost than the benefit's worth."

One More Thought

I came across this movie just after finishing my blog entry. It seemed...appropriate. Enjoy.

Labor Surplus

In my last post, someone asked me "So what would your economy tend to produce instead?" Here's a few thoughts...

Missionaries: It's easy to claim that God is easily one's greatest treasure. It's also pretty easy to claim that others should equally prize God. But how we spend our money often speaks loudly to whether we truly value others knowing God or not. Without getting into a mission philosophy discourse, here's a few observations:

Besides missionaries, there's a significant infrastructure needed to provide training, support, and materials for missionaries. There's also an underlying consideration of when sending American missionaries is the wisest use of resources. In many parts of the world, native missionaries can work without the cultural or language barriers for far less money.

Rational Aid: Money means power, and that means that our economy is capable of supporting a far more significant effort to help people, whether foreign or domestic. For this aid to be helpful in many cases, though, requires more than simply throwing resources at a problem. It also requires shrewdness about human nature and how to encourage growth and responsibility; compassion and mercy mingled with wisdom. It's far easier to give a lazy man a fish day after day than to actually convince him to learn to fish.

Art: I'm not sure this industry would prosper more than it does not, but I think it would prosper differently. There's something about the creative expressive nature of art that is valuable to promote and maintain.

Relaxation: Not so much an industry, but rather a use of time. Americans are very good at living hurried busy anxious lives filled with entertainment, but generally bad at pacing ourselves in a way that includes genuine relaxation.

Technology (& Education): Technology is the ability to do more with less. Or perhaps more with more. It's also a reflection of God's creation. So research and development flourishes...or perhaps doesn't decline. Depends a little bit on how one sees today's technology situation.

Macro Economics 101

As I mentioned in my last post, sometimes I contemplate the economic future my values would tend to create in America. I'm not a master economist - or even a minor one, but let me start with one observation: Fundamentally, we pay money for one of two 'goods':

Labor: We pay for someone else's time, expertise, and energy.

Resource: We pay for 'ownership' of non-manufactured resources (land, gold, sand, oil, water, etc.).

So how do I think industries would fair? Here's a few thoughts...

Clothing: Very badly. The whole designer name brand bit would do very badly. I'm a big fan of inexpensive quality clothing. Something like * * = constant. So a very expensive coat that kept me really warm and lasted really long would be worth it. The inexpensive clothing industry might do okay as part of helping people in foreign countries as well.

Automobiles: Another industry that I fear would fair badly with an emphasis on longevity and economy rather than financial gimmicks for new cars. However, truck rentals might boom as a more economical way to have an occasional truck than to own one every day of the year.

Hollywood: I'm afraid I'd be taking huge chunks out of the movie and music industry. I just don't see entertainment as justifying huge multi-million dollar salaries. And don't get me started on professional sports or television...

Credit Cards: Visa and company would be reduced to handlers for debit cards. I'm not a big fan of debt, and even less for credit cards as a means of borrowing money in most circumstances.

Fast Food: I like restaurants. But in their current cost niche, I find it too expensive to use them as a replacement for my local kitchen. Sadly, I don't think America could support nearly the number of restaurants it has on my frequency of eating out.

Just Less: In general, I tend to stretch out purchases and get by with less...a few less toys, a few less electronics, a few less music CDs, and so forth.

Hospitality (or micro-economics)

I've been contemplating economics lately - as in, what would happen to America's economy if a significant percentage of people followed my values? Hopefully I'll get around to that line of thought soon, but I've also been contemplating the virtue of hospitality (in part in relationship to my musings in my last post about community).

I've been thinking about the legacy of a long-time friend of mine is leaving the pastorate. One of the first characteristics that pops into my mind is how hospitable he and his wife were. Despite the busyness that was always around them, they loved to have people over, to make them feel welcome, to share their food.

It's strange how my perspective has changed: I remember puzzling over why such the Bible placed an emphasis on hospitality. Surely having people over wasn't such a difficult thing to do, was it? As far as commands go, it seems almost trivial compared to some of the other instructions (love your neighbor as yourself, don't lust, be content).

But gradually, I'm seeing hospitality as about more than simply having people over and letting them plop on the couch. Here's a few ideas...

Hospitality doesn't just spontaneously happen - people don't just lurk outside my door waiting for me say "You know what? I feel hospitable right now...come on in." In fact, hospitality is often down right inconvenient. Guests are unpredictable - sometimes they need to talk, sometimes they need food, sometimes they disrupt the "sacred social norms". Hospitality is more on our turf - people see us a bit more as we are as we deal with the unexpected parental visit or drunk friend.

Hospitality requires initiative and planning. People don't invite themselves over - and once over, they take attention. Plan on feeding them? Better have made time for an appropriate grocery trip - or keep one's pantry properly stocked. Want to have a crowd for the Superbowl? Better have gotten an appropriately sized place with plenty of seating.

Hospitality is an aspect of community: There's a nice feel to being able to be a welcome guest - to knowing that others want to have me around, want me to be comfortable, want to get to know me, are willing to have their space and convenience infringed upon.

I'm tempted to also go into why hospitality seems so difficult, and why I appreciate the examples of others in this area...but creative juices are draining rapidly...

Reading Test

Today's blog entry celebrates two events: Finals week, and several of my friends' upcoming marriages.

The topic? This essay on marriage by John Yoder, a Mennonite theologian. His name rings vaguely familiar, so he may be quite well known.

What can I say? It is long, and a bit challenging to read. (Actually, the first three-fourths were the best; the last 'Parallel Reasoning' part didn't resonate.)

It's a hard article to do justice to, but here's a few points of interest. First, he defines three different views on marriage:
Ontological: A marriage is permanent as long as its 'essence' is maintained, but if the essence is broken, then the marriage is invalid. For example, a marriage is valid as long as both spouses do not commit adultery.
Realist-objective: Marriage is fundamentally determined by powers beyond human control...and the call to live up to the ideal is present regardless of the current state of the marriage.

(As a sidenote to this definition, but a theme throughout the article is the notion that sexual union is a sufficient condition for a marriage relationship. For readers going 'madness!', read the article, it isn't as crazy as I just made it sound. He also argues that while sexual union is sufficient, not all 'marriages' are viable...very fascinating.)

Realist-legal: Essentially argues that the essence of the first marriage always holds, and therefore any additional marriages (or remarriage without a spouse dying) are sinful.

I like what the author does in arguing for the second perspective, trying to stay well away from legalism ("What must my spouse do before I can divorce her?") and calling Christians to a higher vision of marriage. I also like the way the ideas of grace and mercy are woven in regarding remarriage. I don't know if I entirely agree, but it's thought provoking.

Here's another excerpt regarding community that got me thinking.

Most discussion of this issue [marriage] neglects the support which church and community owe to single people. The modern idea that a single person is somehow unfulfilled, unbalanced, unwanted needs to be attacked as an idea and undermined in practice. There should be patterns of community relations in which single persons (whether divorced or never married) would be "at home" as part of a wider "family," and would be recognized for their special contribution. If such resources were available to single persons, there would be fewer "bad marriages," and the divorced would be helped to live without overwhelming pressures toward remarriage.

Attacking the unfulfilled single idea in idea is fairly easy. Undermining it in practice, however, strikes me as exceedingly difficult. I'm tempted to do a brief poll of my peers and see whether they would describe themselves as 'recognized for their special contribution in a wider church family in which they consider at home.'

I need to think more about what it actually takes to undermine the unwanted/unbalanced/unfulfilled single concept is practice. Cheaper gas, perhaps. Fortunately, electrons are plentiful (and thus, cheap) so I can blog on the thought again.