Monday, March 26, 2012

Spending Time



The great French Marshall Lyautey once asked his gardener to plant a tree. The gardener objected that the tree was slow growing and would not reach maturity for 100 years. The Marshall replied, 'In that case, there is no time to lose; plant it this afternoon! – John F. Kennedy

Way back in a former life, an electric utility CEO once told me that he had just left a meeting in which his board of directors had instantly approved spending $10,000,000 on a new substation without batting an eye, then debated for an hour before tabling a motion to expend $3,000 on a bit of office carpeting.

“Some things seem too big to question,” he reasoned. “Instead, people object to little things that cost next to nothing, but provide a convenient illusion of control.”

I would say the same flawed thinking holds true for spending time. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the average 25-64 year old adult spends his/her life like so:

 
33% Sleep
24% Full-time job
11.3% Watching television
9% Other activities/self-care
8.3% Household/family
5.2% Eating
4.5% Online
4.1% Commuting
0.6% Religious activities

It is appropriate and healthy for us to sleep a third of our life away. It is hard to escape spending a third of our lives pursuing a living.  But surrendering 15.8% to staring at a screen?!? And, if 99.4% of our precious time is spent elsewhere, why are our faith practices often first to suffer when life gets hectic?

In the early days of my ministry, I still worked full-time at a local advertising agency. One day a co-worker approached me. He was in his early 30s. He and his wife had young children. He put in a lot of hours at the office.

“I was raised Christian,” he said to me, “and I do miss my church. But by the time Sunday morning comes around, we’re too exhausted from our week to pack the kids in the car and head off to worship. What can I do?”

This was the first time I was ever asked this question. I’ve answered it a thousand times since, but my reply really hasn’t changed in all these years. It is obvious to me that my friend wasn’t questioning the big things, but strained mightily at that which involved a fraction of a fraction of his resources. I could have suggested my co-worker not stay so late at the office when he was tired and his potential productivity was so low. I could have recommended he turn off the TV and spend more time in physical activity with his family. But he didn’t ask me to critique how he spent his time. He asked me how he could possibly connect to his faith community when he was completely spent at the end of a long week.

“Don’t go to church at the end of your week,” I suggested. “Go at the beginning of your week instead. I bet the support, energy and inspiration you’ll gain will improve the six days that follow.”

Last I knew, he and his family were still attending their church regularly. 

Thursday, March 8, 2012

A Kick to the Liturgical Crotch



So I’m a few weeks into my Lenten fast. I have given up all violent media this time. This is harder than you might think, even for a fairly passive guy like me. Actually, I blew it on the first day.
Abbey of the Genesee

On Ash Wednesday, the wife, the son and I rode over to the Abbey of the Genesee, a Benedictine trappist monastery in Piffard, NY famous for their breads. (http://www.geneseeabbey.org)We bought lots of loaves (mmm, raisin bread…) and then slipped into the chapel for vespers.

If you’ve never attended a session of the Liturgy of the Hours, you should seriously consider it. It is peaceful, reflective, beautiful and wonderfully restorative.

Well, usually. On this fine afternoon, the chosen psalms for recitation included 139  (If only you would slay the wicked, O God) and 140 (let the mischief that is on their lips bury them. Let hot burning coals be poured upon them : let them be plunged into that miry pit from which they shall never arise.). This was incredibly violent stuff, even when chanted with placid monks in front of a minimalist stone altar. Check that - especially when chanted with placid monks in front of a minimalist stone altar. The effect was chilling! In a place of high Roman Catholic holiness on the very first day of Lent, I broke my fast before I’d really even started. Oh, the irony.


As it turns out, this experience was fair warning for what has followed. Violence is so deeply woven into American culture that it is nearly impossible to avoid. I lean over a pew before church to joke with a young congregant and he’s deeply engaged in a light saber duel on his hand-held video game. I sit down to watch the Daily Show and have to avert my eyes from a commercial for an automatic bill pay service that features a malevolent, angry bill collector shattering glass and breaking down doors to deliver an invoice.  At a hotel in Binghamton last weekend I had to turn off the cable tv because the commercials inserted into even the mildest of programs featured a ton of violent content.
 
Last night at band practice I began to show the boys and girl a rendition of Let It Be from one of my favorite movies (Across the Universe), only to realize I’d have to shield my eyes through the first 1/3 of the song.

Ridiculous? Yes, it is. The lengths to which we must go to honor a somewhat arbitrary decision is part of the glory of a Lenten commitment. It is maddening, imbalancing and terribly inconvenient --all things a good reflective faith challenge should be. These passing weeks help me realize how indifferent or even accepting I have become toward violence. I didn’t realize how ubiquitous it has been in my supposedly peaceful life. 

So much of what and how I think are built on what I've observed and experienced. It is only in trying to avoid violence that I've come to realize how many rapes, murders, assaults, tortures, kicks, punches, slaps and thumpings I normally pay to see. Violent imagery excites the brain and leaves us hungry for more. How can this be anything but a bad thing?