No blog post today.  I'll be back next week.

Fiesta Island Flowers

Photo taken at Fiesta Island, April 24, 2010.

Not Playing the Game

This week, another season of Survivor came to a close.  At least, that's what I heard; I've not seen an episode of Survivor in many years.  Early on in the series, I did watch the show, for two or maybe three seasons; but after that, I lost interest.

Survivor is, of course, a game show, in which contestants vote one another off the island (or wherever they're located) as they compete to be the last one standing:  the sole survivor.  Each season, there is some variation: the challenges are different, the teams are mixed up, etc., but for the most part, the game remains the same.

I guess I got tired of the game.

I remember that, when Survivor premiered, it was seen by some as representing life in general:  it's a dog-eat-dog, survival-of-the-fittest world, in which everyone struggles to climb to the top and be the sole Survivor.

I'm tired of that game, too.

This week, I wondered what would happen if, on one Survivor episode, the contestants refused to play the game.  What if one of the contestants did everything he or she could to help one of the other contestants win?  What if each contestant agreed to vote for themselves at tribal council?  I do seem to remember something about a rule prohibiting that, so what if, from day one, the players planned their votes so that, when the votes were counted, every person had one vote?  If they continued that practice, then by a team's fifth tribal council, every contestant would have received five votes total over the course of the season: an unbreakable tie.  What if the contestants stuck to this strategy, no matter how many re-votes took place?

Having not watched the show in some time, I don't know if a situation like this has ever happened.  If it has, then my guess is that the producers figured out a way to overcome it, a way to force the contestants to continue playing the game the way it is supposed to be played.

I wonder, though:  in the game of life, who is forcing me to play?  If I refuse to play, what will happen?

Last weekend I took my sons to see the movie How to Train Your Dragon.  The main character - a boy named Hiccup - lives in a Viking village where the "game" is fighting and killing the dragons who ravage the village and steal livestock.  This "game" is the game.  It defines all of life.  It defines who the people are.  The people of the village can't even imagine living by any other rules.

Except Hiccup.  He discovers, by chance, that there is a life outside this game.  This is something that no one else could possibly understand, since the rules of the game are the only rules they know how to live by.  So Hiccup keeps his discovery a secret.  He doesn't see how he can open the eyes of the villagers to the truth he has found, that there is a life outside the game, a life that is more liberating in so many ways than he could have imagined, a life of understanding and peace.  He wants to share this with the people of his village, but he doesn't know how; so he keeps it secret.

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that "not playing the game" is a metaphor for living in the kingdom of God.  I won't say any more about that now.  But I invite you to re-read the parables of Jesus, and see if you don't agree.

Pictures from CBS & Dreamworks. 
If you've seen the movie, does it seem that there's a mistake in the image of Hiccup & Toothless? 
See if you can see what I see...

Under the Boardwalk

Balboa Pier, Newport Beach, CA

Changing the Way We Live

This week, an NPR story reported that a growing number of people are "cutting the cord," choosing to have no landline telephone and no cable TV service.  Also, a small but growing number of mostly young people have never had a landline telephone; perfectly content with the cell phone service they had as teenagers, they see no reason to change.  Today, 25% of households have no landline telephone service.

The story caught my attention because not too long ago, I convinced my wife that we should get rid of our landline.  We hardly ever made calls from it, and when it rang, we hardly ever answered it, because more often than not the incoming calls were sales calls.

(Incidentally, I was not able to convince her that we didn't need cable; we now have the most basic level of cable, which doesn't include much more than we were getting with our rabbit ears and digital converter.)

Nevertheless, the NPR story made me think of other ways people are bucking conventional wisdom and redefining the way we live.

The most noticeable, to me at least, is the growing number of people, even here in L.A. County, who are choosing to live without a car;  people who have decided that the cost and hassle of car ownership just isn't worth it.  These are people who believe life is enriched by not having to deal with issues of ownership, registration, maintenance, parking, fuel costs, and traffic.  They also find it more meaningful and satisfying to know they are helping reduce pollution and our addiction to fossil fuels.

This addiction to fossil fuels has always been costly, much more costly than the posted price at the local gas station.  Most of those costs have been hidden from public view, but in recent weeks, some of them have come into the spotlight.  Catastrophic oil spills and deadly mining tragedies have allowed many to see just how high the costs are.  Some are even beginning to make the connection between their own energy consumption and these terrible events.

Once that connection is made, then one realizes that those who use energy, and especially those who insist that they have an abundant supply of cheap energy, are just as responsible for those deadly tragedies as are the mining and petroleum companies.

Energy companies are, generally speaking, the biggest corporations on earth.  They spend ungodly sums of money convincing the world that cheap energy is our right and that our current lifestyle demands that we have cheap energy.  They work hard to hide the real costs of our energy addiction - global warming, pollution, and deadly accidents and spills - and when those costs come into public awareness, they insist that they are minor anamolies that are insignificant compared to the benefits.

That's the conventional wisdom that we've been taught to believe, and it has led to a way of living that is not good for us, and certainly not good for the earth.  But a new way of living is possible. 

The time is right for a re-imagining of the way we live.  The time is right for a re-imagining of our communities and our society.  We can change the way we live, so that we can be friendlier to our planet, our communities, and ourselves.  Going car-free may not be the answer for everyone, but we can find ways to reduce our addiction to fossil fuels.  As a small but growing number of people are discovering, it is far more meaningful and satisfying than we had imagined.

Friday After School

Saved from Bitterness and Anger

Sometimes, I wonder how it is possible to keep a positive outlook on things, or even to keep sane in this crazy world. I realize that I can't speak for other pastors, or even other humans. I can only speak for myself. Yet, as I consider the state of the world, I wonder how we've let it get to this point.

The U.S. has 5,113 nuclear warheads. Just 5,113? That's a lot fewer than we used to have. And yet, each one is capable of death on a massive scale. It's 5,113 too many.

We suffer from an addiction to fossil fuels. The lives of coal miners in West Virginia, an ecological catastrophe (and more lost lives) in the Gulf of Mexico, and explosions at refineries are the cost of our addiction, not to mention smog-choked valleys and stressful, traffic-clogged freeways.

Two blocks from my home, people without homes sleep in the bushes next to a freeway onramp, where people drive by in their air-conditioned luxury cars and SUVs, talking on their bluetooths.

Shall I go on? As a follower of Jesus, and as a person called to help others follow Jesus, it is a challenge to not become discouraged and lose hope in this world. And yet, I know people who have lost hope. Their bitterness and sadness, present in sermons and status updates, only adds to the despair.

There is also, of course, personal stress: lying awake at night, praying that my son's blood sugars are normal, and that we can afford the next round of medicine co-pays; lamenting the strengthening grip of electronic media on my family; struggling to uphold the commitments I've made despite challenges of time and money; wondering what more I can do for the church I pastor, and worrying about whether or not it will be able to afford a full-time pastor next year.

One after another, the thoughts fill my mind. Worries and anxieties abound. Save me, O God, from bitterness and anger. Save me from hopelessness. Show me some comfort, something to sing and laugh about.

And then...

Then I walk past a garden filled with beauty -- just for me, it seems -- and my heart leaps in joy and gratitude for the wonderful display that delights my senses, a gift from God and gardeners...

Then I see two friends greet one another with a hug, and I think back to my own friends and loved ones, and remember that companions make the journey possible, bearable, worthwhile, and even enjoyable...

Then I hear a melody sung by a bird, a choir, or a child getting ready for school, filling my ears with a sound of delight that lasts all day long.

I know that the ancient prophets lamented the state of their world, which seemed to them so at odds with God's intentions. This discrepancy gnawed at them until they found life almost unbearable.

I wonder if they were able to see the beauty and the joy that existed side-by-side with the injustice that tormented them. I think they must have. How else could they have written their critiques of society in such beautiful poetry?

It is a spiritual practice, to take care to notice the many blessings and sights of beauty in our world, a practice that is essential for me and for anyone who works to bring wholeness to a fragmented world. The gardens, the hugs, the songs ... these are the things that keep us sane. These are the things that keep us joyful.

These passings resurrect
A joy without defect,
The life that steps and sings in ways of death.
--Wendell Berry

Coastal Wildlife

A picture I took two years ago at Sycamore Beach/Point Mugu State Park.  I post it today in recognition of the oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.  Having never been there, I don't know if they have seagulls like this along the Gulf Coast, but my heart goes out to all the wildlife affected, not to mention the human lives and livelihoods.