Why Are We Surprised?

No doubt like you, I've been following the ups and downs (mostly downs) of the stock market and listening to the pundits talk about this latest economic crisis. I've been amused - in a sickened sort of way - by the finger pointing of political parties and candidates.

In my morning prayer time I started reading Proverbs today. In the opening chapter, "my child" (NRSV), or "my son" (NIV) is instructed to avoid getting involved with friends who will lead him into a life of greedy dissipation. 1:19 says, "Such is the end of all who are greedy for gain; it takes away the life of its possessors." The proverb writer thus makes the point that greedy people (who are violent even if they never lift a physical finger against someone) are trapped in their own devices, like a bird caught in a net.

An apt picture, this is. Why, then, are we surprised, when greedy people act greedily?

And what is greed, really? It is an insatiable (never satisfied) appetite for money and material possessions. It is the economic form of sexual lust (a form of sin about which we conservative Christians demonstrate obsessive concern). But of course, this is only a partway definition. The reason greed gets a hold on anyone is because of what a super-abundance of money and material possessions promises: freedom, comfort, pleasure, joy. The promise is a lie. It's always a lie. It will forever be a lie. How do we stop falling for it?

In the end, greed (like sexual lust) is disordered desire. It is the economic manifestation of Genesis 3: the woman and the man saw the fruit, saw that it was desirable, and believed that it would give them something good that they didn't yet have. No wonder this story is a classic. We should never be surprised when someone - either the fat-cat Wall Street types or the eighteen-year-old who gets his first credit card and doesn't know how to handle it - falls prey to this problem.

Because we all have the problem. We should neither be surprised, nor should we be jaded, when Wall Street gets out of whack or when Congress-persons contribute to the problem by over-loosening regulations. It's pure hypocrisy for anyone, Democrat or Republican or Independent, to point fingers and pretend that they, themselves don't have the same problem.

Greed tempts us to believe what is not true. It is desire out of whack, like a swollen river exceeding its banks. Disordered desire always gets us in trouble. We are caught in the net of sin - every one of us. Our "caught-ness" manifests itself in different ways, for we are not all tempted by the same things. But we are all tempted.

I just wrote a bunch of stuff you already know. So, why am I writing it? Frankly, because I think Christians, of all people, ought to be able to exhibit (and help to provide) some balance and sensibility during this very heated political season. We ought to have opinions, strong ones, about the best candidates and policies, but we ought not get swept away by the nonsense pumped at us from so many directions. We ought not to be surprised, nor jaded, when we get caught by our own temptations. We thus could be in a better position (rather than playing the stupid politics game) to witness to the One who can redeem us (in more than a merely "spiritual" sense) from the power of sin - economic or otherwise.

Christian people living Christianly - brilliant!

My Dirt Doesn't Bother Me

In my haste to get out of the office shortly before Christmas, I left a quarter-full coffee cup sitting on my desk. A week later when I went to the office to climb back in the work saddle, there was the cup with a thick slab of dried coffee in the bottom. Off to the bathroom I went to clean things up.

It was amazing how many rinses it took to get all the sludge out of that cup. And that's when I thought, "You know, if I were in someone else's office watching this process, I'd be a little grossed out." Then came the next thought, "My dirt doesn't bother me nearly as much as someone else's dirt."

Last Friday, Joni and I met halfway between our work places to pick up a part for a home bathroom project. We decided to make it a date and go for dinner. Now, you need to know that I'm culinarily challenged. I eat what's put in front of me. I like pretty much everything I eat. I'm not very picky or discriminating. And I promptly forget what we just had after we eat. I'm a happy, but quite dull, don't-notice-much eater. Sadly (for my wife), I'm married to something of a gourmet cook, who loves to try new things and who really, truly gets the chemistry of cooking.

OK, back to the date. Joni suggested that we go to a new Japanese Steakhouse that she had spotted not far from the national chain home repair/building/supply store we had just frequented. So off we went. The restaurant was brand new, so new, in fact, that they didn't have their liquor license (ergo, no saki after dinner). We sat, as people do in Japanese steakhouses, with total strangers, at a big cooking station with seats surrounding it.

That's when we started noticing - the place wasn't very clean. The cook station was slightly dirty from the previous meal: little bits of rice back up under the edge of the grill, a stray pea, a sticky spot on the floor under my feet. Our cook was good. He was funny. (He was also Mexican, not Japanese. I love this country.) But somehow, the food just didn't taste quite right. We didn't relish the meal like we would have had we gone to the other place where we've been before. As we left Joni said, in that philosophical tone, "Well, I'm glad we tried it, but the next time we want Japanese, I probably won't recommend we come here."

My nasty coffee cup didn't bother me at all. A less than perfectly clean restaurant made my gullett a little jittery.

I don't really mind my dirt. Now yours...? Hence, my problem. I'm so thankful Jesus isn't squeamish like I am.