Thursday, September 30, 2010
Under Construction!
I'm in the process of re-working the blog to, well, start using it again. The constant shiftings will pass.
October Newsletter
A few days ago, I nearly screamed at someone.
The man was only “doing his job,” as he pressed again and again to sell me some tea in a little retail store in the mall. He shoved a steamy cup into my hand, crooning on about the great quality of what was a fairly mediocre and over-sweetened plastic cup of tea. I tried to browse the teapots, and he regaled me with the many benefits of an under-sized plastic thermos. I asked to purchase 2 ounces of tea; he tried to impose 4 ounces on me, which of course would have doubled the price. He had the gall to look confused when I didn’t pay the extra amount.
We are all, I suspect, tired of being asked for money. Day after day, screen after screen, page by page people ask for our money, offering us goods, lifestyles, looks, and styles. Radio, TV, billboard, internet, magazines, books—how refreshing it would be to have a week without advertisements!
Even in a recession, people have not stopped asking for money. If anything, I continue to notice a rising pitch in the requests, a demand that we give money. Constantly, we hear about the direction of “consumer spending” and “big ticket items” and “new house construction” and whether they are up or down. The new stories become happier and seem to reward us for spending more, and they threaten more recession if we spend too little. Somehow, we become failures by not consuming at an ever-increasing rate—which in the end is a race toward physical and spiritual obesity that is bound to be fatal.
Amidst all this salesmanship and screaming to spend, I find myself thinking more and more of one of my favorite chapters in the Bible, Isaiah 55, which asks: “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” Something about the endless cycle of consumption is lie. Something that sates us only temporarily and, like having a sugary snack early in the afternoon, leaves us starving by meal-time. We need real sustenance, real bread to feed our starving hearts, real wine for true celebration of resurrection in the midst of loss. We need real oil to soothe our wounds, and we need real music to buoy up our minds. We need Reality. We need Life. We need God.
Strangely, we cannot buy that Reality at any retail outlet. Instead, we have to re-learn economics as God imagines it. We must learn to see the world not as one of ‘scarcity and taking and spending’ but of ‘abundance and giving and sharing.’ If we want to escape this endless cycle of shrieking consumerism, we cannot buy our way out. We must give our way out, giving of our time, talent, and money.
We will never spend our way out of a spiritual recession. We can only give our way out.
Our stewardship season, as it invites us to share our wealth of time and treasure with our church community and those in need, is not one more request for money. ‘Stewardship time’ is our invitation to escape the fear that we do not have enough and instead bless what we have by giving proportionally of ourselves and our possessions to God.
I truly believe this, or I would not give of my own treasure. I give 10% of my income to the church, to God’s work, and then more to charities in which I believe—and frankly, I have much room to grow in letting go of my possessions that possess me and sharing what I have. I do not give because I am ordained, nor because I am particularly good or compassionate. I give proportionally because I have found that kind of giving to be the only way I can continue to grow in God’s spiritual economy.
For some of us, the hardships of this recession have been very real, but the financial recession damages us most when it traps us in a spiritual recession, a cycle of fear and scarcity. We need what cannot be purchased. We need what only God offers, what is available only in God’s economy. And we can receive it, only by giving.
Peace,
Ryan
The man was only “doing his job,” as he pressed again and again to sell me some tea in a little retail store in the mall. He shoved a steamy cup into my hand, crooning on about the great quality of what was a fairly mediocre and over-sweetened plastic cup of tea. I tried to browse the teapots, and he regaled me with the many benefits of an under-sized plastic thermos. I asked to purchase 2 ounces of tea; he tried to impose 4 ounces on me, which of course would have doubled the price. He had the gall to look confused when I didn’t pay the extra amount.
We are all, I suspect, tired of being asked for money. Day after day, screen after screen, page by page people ask for our money, offering us goods, lifestyles, looks, and styles. Radio, TV, billboard, internet, magazines, books—how refreshing it would be to have a week without advertisements!
Even in a recession, people have not stopped asking for money. If anything, I continue to notice a rising pitch in the requests, a demand that we give money. Constantly, we hear about the direction of “consumer spending” and “big ticket items” and “new house construction” and whether they are up or down. The new stories become happier and seem to reward us for spending more, and they threaten more recession if we spend too little. Somehow, we become failures by not consuming at an ever-increasing rate—which in the end is a race toward physical and spiritual obesity that is bound to be fatal.
Amidst all this salesmanship and screaming to spend, I find myself thinking more and more of one of my favorite chapters in the Bible, Isaiah 55, which asks: “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy?” Something about the endless cycle of consumption is lie. Something that sates us only temporarily and, like having a sugary snack early in the afternoon, leaves us starving by meal-time. We need real sustenance, real bread to feed our starving hearts, real wine for true celebration of resurrection in the midst of loss. We need real oil to soothe our wounds, and we need real music to buoy up our minds. We need Reality. We need Life. We need God.
Strangely, we cannot buy that Reality at any retail outlet. Instead, we have to re-learn economics as God imagines it. We must learn to see the world not as one of ‘scarcity and taking and spending’ but of ‘abundance and giving and sharing.’ If we want to escape this endless cycle of shrieking consumerism, we cannot buy our way out. We must give our way out, giving of our time, talent, and money.
We will never spend our way out of a spiritual recession. We can only give our way out.
Our stewardship season, as it invites us to share our wealth of time and treasure with our church community and those in need, is not one more request for money. ‘Stewardship time’ is our invitation to escape the fear that we do not have enough and instead bless what we have by giving proportionally of ourselves and our possessions to God.
I truly believe this, or I would not give of my own treasure. I give 10% of my income to the church, to God’s work, and then more to charities in which I believe—and frankly, I have much room to grow in letting go of my possessions that possess me and sharing what I have. I do not give because I am ordained, nor because I am particularly good or compassionate. I give proportionally because I have found that kind of giving to be the only way I can continue to grow in God’s spiritual economy.
For some of us, the hardships of this recession have been very real, but the financial recession damages us most when it traps us in a spiritual recession, a cycle of fear and scarcity. We need what cannot be purchased. We need what only God offers, what is available only in God’s economy. And we can receive it, only by giving.
Peace,
Ryan
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