A Nation of Orthorexics

Michael Pollan says there is a paradox in the American diet. We’re “a notably unhealthy population preoccupied with nutrition and diet and the idea of eating healthy.” He calls us a nation of orthorexics, meaning we have an unhealthy obsession with healthy eating. Pollan suspects that there is “an inverse correlation between the amount of time people spend worrying about nutrition and their overall health and happiness.”

His solution isn’t to eat twinkies and be merry. Humans have lived well on an astonishing variety of diets, from vegan to straight up carnivore. Following this, Pollan argues for a common-sense approach to eating: Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.

For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, for it is made holy by the word of God and prayer.

~ 1 Timothy 4:4 ESV

Love Thy Neighbor

Jack stopped me while I was mowing to introduce himself and talk to me about the property line. I didn’t have the land surveyed before we moved in and he no longer remembered precisely where the line fell. The border might not be exactly where he stopped mowing. It could be up the bank or in the ditch but if I wanted to put up a fence, I should probably get it surveyed beforehand. It turned out that neither of us cared where the line was and neither wanted a fence. He continued to mow down the bank and I picked it up at the ditch.

Once or twice in our lives, if we are lucky, we meet someone who is meant to be a genuine, hundred percent friend. On a summer day in 2017 my youngest son Jacob found one of his. While we chatted, he snuck around behind Jack, tapped him on the leg and then jumped to hide behind the bushes. Jacob instinctively knew this stranger would appreciate his brand of humor.

What in the world makes a man in his mid-eighties and a four-year-old who aren’t related and not much alike want to be friends? The endless energy of Jacob propelled him towards activities like repeatedly ringing their doorbell and then hiding. Not really the kind of hobby that should endear him to a man 82 years his senior.  And you wouldn’t think that a high energy, ready to rumble boy would hang out long enough to build deep friendship while watering tomatoes. Soon all of Jack’s friends knew about his friend Jacob and everyone Jacob knew had heard about Jack and Shirley. He called Shirley “Jack’s mom”. A few who knew Jacob were confused when told Jack had broken his hip because they had assumed the two were the same age.

Our last conversation before Jack broke his hip was a few feet away. For the last time he interrupted my mowing to let me know how much he and Shirley appreciated and valued my boys, and how much they enjoyed Jacobs daily visits. Visits that wouldn’t have started if a fence had divided our yards. In the time between those conversations he had stopped me many times, always to talk about my sons and always especially Jacob.

“Love Thy neighbor” doesn’t need explanation in the south. We all know the story, know Jesus said it and who he directed it to. Its an innocuous, uncontroversial statement that everybody agrees with until we sit down to define love and discuss who is my neighbor. Humanity hasn’t really learned all that much in two thousand years after all. We’ve placed so many caveats in the conversation that we still haven’t learned that the second greatest commandment when practiced is less demand and more gift. We look around to find a neighbor to love when sometimes that neighbor is right next door.

Career and yard work fill up almost all space and the little time remaining is spent trying to recover for the next project. If the hamster wheel slows down enough to see the world waiting as life rips by going nowhere, I may realize a neighbor needs love and wish there were more time. But friendship and love are only for those who get off the treadmill and throw their arms around another.

An 86-year-old man and a four-year-old boy have limited adventures. But for three years, adventures they had. With all their differences one commonality was a contentment found in needling the other. I fussed at Jacob for squirting an elderly man with a water hose until I found out that not only had Jack not shown anger, he had participated. What started with worrying about this precocious, ferocious boy harassing the neighbors ended with all seven members of the two families listening as Shirley recited “The night before Christmas” late last December. Friendship all around, love for neighbor all around, peace on earth, goodwill toward and between man. All because a little boy found a couple he would care about, and an old man decided to love young fire.

Friendship didn’t cure pandemics, end racism, or pay off the national debt. But an old hand and a preschool hand reached across a vague property line and made two families into one. Three boys, a mom and dad, and a man and his wife.

We are convinced that Jack swung by to say goodbye last week on his way to heaven. He looked in on his three young friends to offer his regret on not being able to discuss the completed treehouse together or catch any more episodes of SpongeBob. He is done for now answering Levi’s questions, teasing Nolan, and picking with Jacob.

He looked in the master bedroom to tell Jacobs parents for the last time how much he valued their sons and what it meant to him when they visited, especially Jacob. Then he took the outstretched hand of a patiently waiting Jesus and was gone. But across the ditch and up the bank we hold hands and wait for a day when differences and death don’t divide and love is all that remains.

Good fences don’t make good neighbors, love does.

M.B.

Time, the Golden Standard

So as we will see in a number of texts from Proverbs, work has consequences. Laziness also has consequences, because God gave us the ultimate “gold standard” called time, and everyone has exactly the same amount of it. It is a resource that the government cannot print. This means that work over time matters, and no work over time matters. When I say that it matters, I mean that it matters in morally significant ways. You can, and should, draw conclusions about people based on their work. Our ability to evaluate the labor of others is not absolute because we are limited and finite. Our judgments should be made in all humility. But this does not alter the fact that we still need to evaluate others, and an important part of that evaluation includes the quality of their work.

Wilson, Douglas. Ploductivity: A Practical Theology of Work & Wealth . Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

By their posts ye shall know them.

This is a guest post by my good friend Nathan Jones. Nathan is a husband and father of three. He teaches High School Bible and is a 1LT in the NCNG. His competing interests include”battling” his kids (swords, shields, masks, damsel etc.), drinking coffee with his beloved, reading, and DIY projects and chores. 

Your social media post is a road to nowhere. By broadcasting contextless queries, accusations, statements etc. you have only shouted blurbs that you intend to have meaning and impact. They do not. At least, not as you might intend. Fact is, we’re in an ever-polarizing environment plagued by identity politics. Therefore, when you say one thing, it is almost always seen as a piece to the puzzle that makes up a picture with which we’re already familiar.

What makes it worse, is that these social media “desk pops” ensure that the conversations become and remain between only two sides. Where there could be nuance, creativity, perspectives, there are only one-liners and contextless hard bargains (should, need, have-to). Social media desk pops ensure that there are only two sides. It is dodgeball.

Think for a moment, the type of influence your fast-flying-rubber-ball-to-the-face statements actually have. Your team winning or losing isn’t dependent on getting angrier and throwing harder. Like red-rover, you have to win people over.

Fortune cookie fortunes are meaningless, whoever decided those messages do not know me or my circumstances, nor is it likely we interpret reality the same way. Fortunately for fortune cookies, no one is expected to take them seriously. Unfortunately for your contextless soundbites, we are supposed to take them seriously.

 When I see posts, instinctually I have to provide the context to make sense of it, interpret it, and then form an opinion about it. That is not what you want! You must craft the context, not those whom you wish to influence.

Note. You may say the context is supplied, see the unrest/turmoil/division/goings on in society. That is not what I mean by context. I mean literally, the typographic content that lends specific meaning to one or a few sentences that comprise a typical post.

Photo by dole777 on Unsplash

I’m convinced that the significance of context in interpretation has been promoted the past several years, but it appears a new front has opened up -production. As much as context has become important and normal in the interpretation and application of texts, it appears is lacks any of the same influence in our typographical productions. How can our production be any more liberated from context then our pursuit to understanding? Nevertheless, we can produce textual meaning without context, thank you, social media! But that isn’t so, there will always be context. It will simply be created by those reading it.

So what? Stop posting. Want to have voice? Talk to people -in person! Perhaps your posts make you feel better, maybe it is cathartic or giving you a sense of purposeful changing influence, or maybe you feel good about aligning yourself with identities or causes… OK, go on then. But your feelings that lead to posting or the feelings you get afterward have a flailing impact if any and they arguably hurt human relations more than foster them.

You may object. I’m angry (about injustice and immorality) and our shared world view and/or beliefs require this outrage be expressed and joined. That’s correct, I’m with that. Social Media posts (at least the messaging as of late) is a flawed means for that end. Hammer’s don’t screw, spray-paint doesn’t write essays; fortune cookies are meaningless.

Context is omnipresent. It is either already there (identity politics) or it is created by the writer (rarely) or reader (often). We must be cognizant of the context into-which we situate and convey our message if the intended meaning and its influence is to be communicated.

I promise, I have had good and excellent conversations with folks of opposing ideologies and interpretations of society. Fueling those conversations is faith, books and ideas, narratives and stats. Progress happens: hearts are endeared to people, suffering is seen, justice is promoted, and humility realized. The progress of humble in-person-conversations is the Wrights brothers, whereas a contextless posts is Dunder Mifflin’s Jumping-photo Christmas Card, “is it worth it? Don’t answer that!”[1]


[1]NBC “The Office” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eo0uu4oC3f0