Last week at RoP we focused on the idea that we are more than what we produce.  This week we’ll be exploring an idea that is woven together with production: we are more than what we consume.  According to the New York Times the average city dweller (and by that the Times is referring to NYC) is exposed to around 5,000 ads a day.  Most of us who live outside of NYC are exposed to just over 3,000 per diem.  Think that’s bad?  Studies estimate that we’ll spend 3 years of our lives on this planet watching TV ads.  (Read this post for a great perspective)

3 years is a long time.  Thank heavens for Tivo, right?  What if we defined ourselves according to what we’ve managed to be sold?

More later…

As I do not currently have an official job, the idea of  being “too busy” is both fantasy and reality.  I mean, I’m plenty busy; I have a couple little jobs, lots of responsibilities and some ideas that I’m pursuing.  Having no job is a very interesting experience.  It makes everything seem like work.  This surely isn’t something that I imagined to be true before I landed on the downside of our economic situation.  So I guess I am saying that I wish I were busier in a certain respect.

On the other hand, being without a job forces one to find out who they really are.  You cannot hide behind a title.  It was easy to describe the purpose of my life when I was being paid to pastor people.  Ryan = pastor.  I think men probably wrestle with this “identity = job” thing more so than women, but I may be wrong.

Here’s what I’ve learned through this time: Ryan = pastor, it’s true.  Not because I have a job, but the thing that I can’t stop doing is moving people toward the cross.  Pastor is probably the wrong word.  Most of them are warm and fuzzy.  I’m kind of prickly.  Most pastors attempt to make people feel better about themselves, while I find that method often ineffective.  I’ll attempt to explain.

There is a certain false safety that exists when we attempt to move ourselves toward God.  It feels good, but that idea begins with self as the key component.  God, at Jesus’ baptism in Mark’s Gospel, is described as “tearing” (schizo – Greek) through the heavens.  God interrupts.  Someone described it as all heaven breaking loose.  Rather than beginning with self, we must start with a bigger, truer, longer existing reality, who happens to be here whether we like it or not.  Thereby God is the key component, who simply extends an opportunity for humans to be grateful.  We call this gratefulness – worship.

A motivational poster says, “Character is who you are when no one’s looking.”  It could say, “when no one is paying you.”  As the “too busy” week comes to a close, I hope you’ve discovered something about the nature of God and how you relate to him apart from your accomplishments.

Sorry for the personal nature of this post.  I thought it might help someone out there in reader land.  I will post on this week’s topic later in the day.

Grace.

There are some daylilies jamming their way through the final layer of the Earth’s crust in my backyard.  I once heard some advice that asked me to – “Consider them.”  So I did.

These are some of the things I was told I must consider:

photo by Janet Powell at www.earthhealing.info

1. How they grow…
2. What they do for a living…
3. How fancy they are…
4. How they burn…

From what I can tell, they grow with very little maintenance, like weeds really.  My dog routinely urinates on them, which is not very helpful to the rest of the yard, yet these lilies don’t seem to mind too much.  I first notice them when they appear to be tiny, purple alien heads trying to gain a peak around my yard.  The purple thing turns white after a few days of spying, which later becomes a collection of tender green chutes.  Before long some of them have stems nearly as long as I am tall.  Alright, I’m impressed by “how they grow.”

However they serve no real purpose.  They are worthless freeloaders.  Jobless, they neither toil nor spin.  I’ve acquired a pinwheel via my 4 year-old daughter.  She is a magnificent collector of things with a wonderful capacity for inventorying her stuff should I accidentally “misplace” (see: discard) something she has collected.  This contraption spins its proverbial butt off; much more productive, I daresay, than the lazy lilies, which definitely do not spin.  Some claim a few of their ancestors sat for Georgia O’Keeffe, to which I replied, “Sat is not a job.”

Having considered them to a lesser extent last year, I know that soon they will become enormously fancy, more G-L-A-M-OR-OUS than, say, Fergie.  More flamboyant than the boys on Queer Eye.  Even more beautiful than Solomon, whom I contend, is an odd choice of simile.  He was supposed to be wise; and I’ve learned on TV that smart does not equal pretty. Their blooming season is a bit short for my taste.  I wish they’d stick around for another month.

I grabbed a few of the dried brown stocks from last year’s showing.  I wringed them into one lily-log and struck a match.  I wasn’t even done considering how they burn and my fire was nowhere to be found. I had to light some other things on fire just to finish my consideration.

Let’s recap: they’re tough little suckers that require no coddling.  They grow fast.  They die young.  Then they burn hot and fast.

Oh and somewhere in the middle of this process they demand your attention by their stunning display of the color orange.  The lesson is, you’re quite a bit more important than the flowers along the roadside, yet they are somehow clothed in beauty.  If you’re more valuable than a weed-like flower, I imagine you’ll be alright.  You’ll have some clothing to wear today.  Tomorrow – eh, I figure it can worry about itself.  (Matt 6)

Who do you say that I am?

“Who do you say that I am?”  It’s a great question.  This famous Biblical exchange between Jesus and Peter is cited as the birth of the church by some, the installation of the first Pope by others.  I don’t think Jesus was fishing for a compliment.  Regardless, Peter’s answer seems to excite Jesus’ sense of enthusiasm, like a teacher whose class has just advanced miraculously into the next area of study.

Though this question is asked by and about the Messiah, I wonder what might have happened had Peter answered and then asked back, “Okay, now who do you say that I am?”  Maybe Jesus offered just such a statement by calling him Cephas (rock or stone).

I don’t know why, but it seems the last thing I’ve done becomes who I am for the moment.  Anyone else?  Charitable donations make me equal to Mother Theresa, while some shred of falsehood, renders me an AIG executive, trying to cover up my payout.

I am what I do.  Or at least I think I am.  Descartes thought, therefore he was.  A carpenter saws therefore he is.  A housewife, cleans and cooks and disciplines, therefore she is.  A lobbyist bribes, a thief steals, a vacuum salesman sucks, therefore they are.  You get the idea.  So what’s the problem?  We are what we do, right?

But what if we’re more than a collection of our actions?  Being busy isn’t a horrible thing.  It is often quite healthy.  Too busy though, and we tend to forget who we ARE and instead define ourselves according to what we DO.  Of course the most fortunate of us do things that are an extension of who we are.  Even so, the temptation is to define one’s self by what they produce, rather than the reservoir of out of which that production flows.

You must own this book. Click the photo to order.

Philip Yancey quotes Brennan Manning talking about the Apostle John, he says, “If John were to be asked, ‘What’s your primary identity in life?’ he would not reply, ‘I am a disciple, an apostle, an evangelist author of one of the four gospels,’ but rather, ‘I am the one Jesus loves.’”

Of course being adisciple, apostle, evangelist and author is quite a collection of accomplishments.  But this collection of lesser titles hinge on the larger.  They are only true if the boldest  statement holds fast.  “I am loved by the God of the universe, therefore I am.”

In light of this reality all of the production, accolades and advancements fall quite silent.

Some mornings you just don’t know what to expect from a day.  Most mornings are like that even when the day is approached with a fool-proof plan and to-do list.  I just had breakfast with a friend for about 3 hours.  A 3 hour breakfast is ridiculous.

As Dave and I were talking we began to wonder how many people could actually use a good 3 hour breakfast, but never actually create the necessary space for one.  Now it just so happens that Dave and I share an occupation and few core beliefs as to how we are supposed to perform our duties.  We share a hope that somehow the lives that we lead might spill over into the lives of others.  Not that we lead perfect lives or are in any way the sort of people who proclaim we have it all figured out.  I’ll go out on a limb and speak for both Dave and myself and tell everyone who stumbles upon this post – “We’ve got almost NOTHING figured out!”

When we finally left, our waitress gave us the stink eye, but we didn’t care too much.  We eked out 20% for a tip; should have been more, but we both ran out of cash.  When there is no time to practice journeying toward eternity together, the dramatic message of a present and future Kingdom is simply a collection of neat words.

Too busy?  Carve some margains in your day for those meetings to run a bit long.  Thanks, Dave.  And by the way, buddy, I fully expect for you to do a guest post on Ream of Paper before Tuesday!

Last Saturday my daughter and I got an early start on our garden.  While the seed packets promised 8-10 days till we began to see life, many of our seeds have already sprouted.  We’re having a great time watching things begin to emerge from the tiny peat clumps.  When things are young, growth is easy to spot.  It’s later when things become a bit more mature that we began to question the whole growing process.

When we live too busy, as I contend many of us do, we tend to miss the growth, and we grow discouraged.  One of my favorite portions of scripture is the whole “fruit of the Spirit” bit in Galatians 5: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness,faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.  While there are laws prohibiting certain activities, explains the writer, you can’t go wrong if you try to live according to these.

Here’s the rub: like the tiny beginnings of my garden, which will one day produce fantastic onions, fruit grows at it’s own pace.  There is another list of “gifts of the Spirit” in the bible, but the aforementioned items are simply not gifts.  They’re fruit.  And fruit takes awhile.  Pretty easy to notice at first.  Whereas you may have once been prone to blow up at your kids, the tiniest bit of patience makes a bold proclamation.  It pushes it’s way up through the ground with grandeur.  “Over here, Patience!  Check me out!”

Of course in the time that it takes to actually produce fruit, sometimes that plant is ripped from the ground, mistaken for a weed.  Situations change like the Cleveland forecast, and let’s be honest, sometimes situations affect our fruit production.

If things like love and joy and peace are heavenly plantings tended by the Spirit, join God in the field.  Tend the soil.  Trim the suckers.  Water as needed.  KILL THE JAPANESE BEETLES!  (Sorry, that’s an ecological sore spot for me.)  But here’s the most important thing…  Ready?

Don’t use Miracle-Gro.  It’s heroin for plants.  Once you use it, your garden begs for it.  What’s the metaphor?  There is no quick-grow spirituality.  God builds you into his image at his pace.  There is a lot of spiritual heroin out there promising quick fixes, and sure-fire methods. Look, it works for about a week, maybe 3, but eventually you’ll think, “Hey, I’m the same jerk I was before I bought that book with only a slightly modified behavior!  I’ve been duped.”

The best plant food comes from decomposing garbage.  That’s right, if you want a healthy garden take a look at your junk, the coffee grounds, egg shells and banana peels.  Of course in order to produce such rich compost you have to actually admit that you have some.  Pile it all together and let it feed your plants.  Confession is great for the garden.

Then enjoy the growing process.  Watch it happen.  Oh, and relax a bit; they wouldn’t be called the fruits of the Spirit if you were solely responsible for the entire process.  Happy gardening.

Well this week the Ream of Paper Lent practice is simple: quit working when the sun goes down (or when you get home, for those of you on the night-shift).  Nothing has changed my life more than the laptop.  I’d have to say this wonderful device has allowed me to become as productive off the clock as when I am on it.

It’s a funny thing about technology.  It allows us to maintain unreal levels of productivity or waste as much time as we see fit over the course of a day.  Hey, production is great and addicitng.  Who doesn’t love the accolades and the sense of accomplishment that comes with fulfilling a large task?  Work, you’ll remember, was an integral part of the creation narrative.  God created man and gave him something to do.  That’s why we enjoy doing it, at least some of the time.

God foreknew that we might find ourselves addicted to our own greatness, so he rested.  He probably wasn’t tired from walking about pronouncing things as “good.”  He just took a break and later asserted that his people were to do the same.  Honor the Sabbath, to keep it ______.  (Fill in the blank.)

Holy.  That’s the word he uses, “holy.”  Set apart.  Consecrated.  This day is special.  Jesus even goes so far to say that man was not created for the Sabbath, but Sabbath was created for man.  Man wasn’t created for rest, but a certain amount of holy rest was CREATED for man.  Think about that; rest is a gift.  Which seems to sort of contradict the notion of the modern neo-puritan slogan “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”  Essentially, that means that you have evolved beyond enjoying or needing one of God’s gifts.  When you’ve accomplished that, voila, you no longer need God.

The truth is, you won’t rest when you’re dead.  I mean you will, but nowhere in scripture is the afterlife depicted as “eternal rest.”  It is rather a continuum of the life we’ve procured on earth.  It will include rest, but it will not be rest.  God’s story begins with a garden and concludes with some sort of city that comes down from heaven and invades earth.  In a garden and in a city there is work to be done.  Eternity is God setting creation at peace again, and with peace comes a fair bit of work on the part of the participant.

One will also note, that the idea of Jesus’ 40 days tempted in the wilderness occured outside the realm of his work, be it carpentry, healing multitudes or teaching the scriptures.  We often read of him evading the crowds for a place of solitude.  Rest was important and necessary for God-incarnate.  Maybe because he didn’t have a laptop and an iPhone.

When some kind of rhythm of starting, stopping, producing and resting is established, we’re allowed a greater insight into the nature of God.  One question I ask myself pretty frequently as a parent of young children is, “Are today’s kids better or worse than the kids in my generation or the two generations prior to mine?”  They’re smarter.  They learn things at a quicker rate.  But are they better humans?  I personally do not think so as a general rule (of course there are exceptions, I’m certain your child is included in the exception category).

The obvious corollary is, “why are our kids not as well-adapted as previous generations?”  Sure, we could blame the TV, media, internet, Liberals, Conservatives, educational systems, church education and what-have-you.  Or we could admit that we’ve become addicted to our own productivity, that we’ve stopped unplugging, we’ve never ceased from producing to enjoy the gift of rest and the gift of children.  Our dedication to production has placed our kids in front of the TV for longer periods of time, entrusted them solely to the development afford by educational systems and taught us that other productive professionals should be entrusted with the spiritual development of our kids while at church.

rest and worship here...

Church is no longer a period of rest and worship (seeking and enjoying God’s goodness) for families, but rather a time to “learn and grow,” which I would argue, leads to simple consumption, demanding more production.  Naturally our kids can’t learn the scriptures with

or here, your choice.

their parents, as they have their own language – the language of television broadcasts, so we turn them over to specialists in their language, as we’ve not taught them our language.  Largely because we’ve failed to rest.

So try it out.  Unplug at the end of the day.  Talk to your neighbors and friends.  Build a fire.  Cook dinner.  Eat long meals.  Play games with your kids.  Read the Bible as a family (last night I had to alter the Soddom and Gomorreah story for ages 4-10).  Rest, my friends, is a pure and wonderful gift.