Welcome to the Kitchen

Over on Seedlings in Stone, LL recently spoke of her blog as a living room where she invites people to come in, enjoy themselves, and enter into a conversation. She set some house rules, even invited us to bring our instruments for a little jam session, if it so pleased the crowd. I like the metaphor; it fits too. I like hanging out over at Seedlings, seeing what all the people are up to.

I've been thinking about what room of the house might best describe my blog. As I thought of the images each room in the house evoked, I realized I have set my blog up more like an office or a study. It seems I come here with a specific task in mind or an idea to track down. Most of the time there's a goal I'm after. I'm not sure these are bad characteristics of a blog. They just don't really capture who I am or motivate me on days when I'd really just love to hear what's on other people's minds.

I'd rather this blog be more like a kitchen. A place of nourishment, productivity, and creativity. A place where the odds and ends of the day are tossed onto the counter. A place where you can pull a chair up to the table for a meal, or just open up the fridge for a snack. Mostly, a place at the end of the party where everyone gathers because they don't want to leave.

I'm not sure how this new metaphor will change what I do here (though I hope it does influence me somehow). Mostly, I just want to assure those who come that you are welcome. And if I seem a little distracted or too close to task sometimes, just help yourself to some iced tea and a cookie. I'll sit down with you in a minute.

Branded

In The Contented Soul, Lisa Graham McMinn tells the story of entering graduate school as a mother of three young children and deciding to identify herself by buying a certain brand of shoes.

"The prior decade I had been in maternity clothes or the casual clothes of a mother orchestrating the lives of three young children. Now I did what all self-respecting slightly older students returning to school did in the early 1990s--I bought myself a pair of Birkenstocks. Birkenstock wearers ate granola, grew vegetables, voted liberal, and like trees and folk music. That fit me well enough--and so I established and showcased my identity with the shoes I purchased and wore" (pg. 27, McMinn).

McMinn calls this "conspicuous consumption," "a cycle of buying more than we need, then using, discarding and buying anew, not because we need it to live well but because it is the expected way to live." In chapter five of The Suburban Christian, Al Hsu calls this "storifying" our lives with brand names. In other words, where we shop and the labels we wear and display on our bodies and in our homes tell the sotry we want our lives to be about.

I remember some of my early obsessions with brand names. I don't have any memories of brand attachments prior to going to school. My mom made most of my clothes, or I received hand-me-downs from older cousins. And because we lived in a rural area, there weren't many television stations to promote character-branded products. But once I entered school, things changed. Even in elementary school, I remember wanting Nike sneakers and a Holly Hobby bed spread. When I was a little older, I saved my Christmas money for my first pair of Jordache jeans, and somewhere along the line, Izod polo shirts became all the rage. I'm not sure I could have articulated the story I was trying to write about my life by wanting and purchasing these products. But I could point to the lives of those around me and see that I wanted what they have.

That's the deception of falling into branding for shaping our identity. For one thing, very few brands maintain the same image over time. For instance, when I was in high school, it was embarrassing to shop at Sears. Now that I'm a homeowner who needs tools and appliances, Sears is back in vogue. The other problem is that using brand names to shape our identity doesn't actually work, unless we are two-dimensional television characters.

In fact, I think corporate branding has made us all a little lazy in how we get to know and evaluate the world and the people in it. Rather than creating our own aesthetic style in how we dress and decorate our homes, we simply shop at the Gap or Pottery Barn. And rather than taking the time to explore the character and history of our neighbors, we identify them as the man with the blue Suburban, or the family with the matching Trek bicycles.

I consider myself fairly unbranded; I buy a lot of products in bulk from a locally owned grocery store, or from farmers whose agri-businessed don't even have names. But I still identify myself with brand names when I tell people I listen to National Public Radio and shop at Trader Joes. I don't tell them this so they can know my listening or shopping habits. I tell them this so they'll know what "type" of person I am.

As a believer in Jesus, I see this chapter about brand-name consumerism less as a challenge to be a better steward in my consumption and more as a challenge to do the hard work of letting myself be identified by my love of God and others instead of the brand of my vehicle.

I also am realizing that as hard as I work to be blind to the racial and ethnic differences of the people I come into contact with, I have a long way to go in seeing beyond the corporate identies of the brand names they wear and display. I need to be intentional about moving beyond the story someone's t-shirt is telling me to the story of the person inside the t-shirt. The real stories of the people I meet can never be captured in a logo. But it takes a lot more time and energy to hear those stories.

"Because of this decision we don't evaluate people by what they have or how they look. We looked at the Messiah that way once and got it all wrong, as you know. We certainly don't look at him that way anymore. Now we look inside, and what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new. The old life is gone; a new life burgeons! Look at it! All this comes from the God who settled the relationship between us and him, and then called us to settle our relationships with each other."

2 Corinthians 5:16-18 from The Message

Links to this Post

LL's "Re-storey"

Al Hsu's The Suburban Christian

Hollywood Endings

Several days ago, LL posted "Blog Me a Story," in which she talked about the power of storytelling in communicating messages. The ensuing discussion brought up the power of stories in Jesus' teaching. And as a writer and reader, I am always up for a good story. In fact, I find myself drawn to people who tell their own personal stories in compelling ways.

Over the past few weeks, however, I have realized anew that the power of story telling is not always a force for good in my life. The stories I hear on the news, read in books, or watch on the big screen can sometimes present a view of reality that may cause me to be fearful, can distract me from higher priorities, or can even make sin look inviting.

Over the past month, I found myself in an unexpected situation that seemed more like a Hollywood movie starring Drew Barrymore than a page out of my own life story. And somewhere along the way, I realized that I myself had begun responding more like a movie character than a person who is being conformed to God's image.

As the situation escalated, I found myself with a big choice to make. Continuing with the Hollywood script, I would have followed my heart and thrown caution to the wind. So what if it was the wrong thing to do? At least I would have had a few moments of true happiness.

But as it were, another story became more compelling. The amazing story of Jesus--his life, his death, his sacrifice, his resurrection--sometimes does lead me through dramatic plot twists and romantic interludes. But it's never intended to produce fear, distraction or sin in my life. The story of Jesus always leads me toward greater faith, a renew mind, and the righteousness of Christ. Even when the choices are hard and painful.

I consider myself a pretty mature person, able to participate in discussions of current events and to find the redeeming qualities in art, movies and novels written by people from all perspectives without having to capitulate or agree with the other person. But I have been reminded anew that the ideas I come into contact with, especially those presented as stories, have an overwhelming power to change how I think and how I live. Passively reading or watching or listening is not only foolish, it can be dangerous.

How do you interact with the stories you encounter? How do you use them for good in your life? How do you avoid being negatively influenced by stories that contradict what God has presented as good and true in His story?

Romans 12:2 "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will."

The Bus

A few weeks ago, in our discussion of chapter three of Al Hsu's The Suburban Christian, we discussed transportation as a suburban idol. Even the thought of giving up my car for a week (one of the challenges in the book), almost sent me into a panic attack.

But it did start me thinking . . .

The blessing of a car in my life has allowed me to build and nurture friendships with people who live beyond my neighborhood, and driving to minister and spend time with them seems like a good use of what God has given me. I also carpool when I can.

But I live and work within a couple of blocks from two different bus stops on the same route. With a little extra planning, I could defintely take the bus to work. And I do a lot of my shopping at stores within an easy bike ride. And even the library, bank and post office are all within easy biking distance. If I save up my money and bought a bike, I could cut down on even more car use.

So, after weeks of thinking, planning, and talking, today, I took the bus to work. And it was great. In fact, my eyes teared up out of relief when I got on this morning. But after just one day of riding the bus, I am realizing even more the depth of my dependence and addiction to my car. It's far more than a mode of transportation; it has become a symbol of my lifestyle and identity.

From my first day as a bus commuter, here are a few observations:

1.) I cared far too much what people thought of me as I stood there waiting for the bus. I didn't want them to think I HAVE to ride the bus, because I am poor or homeless or disabled or a recovering alcoholic. I wanted them to know that I have a car at home in the garage and that I am taking the bus because I am a responsible, good person. In other words, riding the bus showed me more than ever that I am very self-centered, prideful, and judgmental.

2.) Getting around in an air-conditioned car, driving from my air-conditioned home to my air-conditioned office has totally removed me from the cycles of nature and weather. I might complain if it rains when I'm supposed to have a picnic, and the temperature determines whether or not I wear a jacket, but I generally live quite independently from the laws of nature. And so today, when I left home without an umbrella, I had a dilemma on my hands when the afternoon rain set in. Thankfully, my friend Matthew loaned me his.

3.) For some people, transportation is the difference between getting by and getting ahead. If I didn't have a car and I worked on the other side of town, trying to get there by bus would take hours. I would then be forced to take a job closer to home or on a closer bus route, and most likely it would pay less. This experiment of mine, riding the bus to work, is real life for a lot of people.

I am not changing the world by riding the bus, but God is slowly showing me that every thing I do each day is a choice, whether I realize it or not. And the more deliberate I am about the choices, the better steward I become.

What choices are you rethinking today?

Related Links

LL's "Commute This"

Al's "Countering Commuter Culture"

Sara's "Bike Culture"