BECOMING GENUINE DAILY

"Depletion"

"The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others."
--Mahatma Gandhi

"Human benevolence is mingled with vanity, interest, or some other motive."
--Mark Twain

I study commercials, watching the interaction of the actors and actresses, the focus of the message, the humor, the drama, the stupidity. The result is simple: selling products or services. From time to time though, a spot captures my attention. In fact, my interest currently targets a Liberty Mutual campaign. They sell insurance. As the advertisement unfolds, a citizen shows another a good deed, an act of hospitality, safety, kindness. The camera focuses on the simple act and then turns to someone else, an unknown stranger watching the gesture from close proximity. And in the next shot, the previous bystander decides to be gracious to another. This process is repeated multiple times. The commercial closes with this tagline: "When it's people who do the right thing, they call it being responsible; when it's an insurance company, they call it Liberty Mutual." I'm having difficulty reconciling responsibility with generosity: is this the basis of kindness? Or does it run deeper? Does it thread humanity together?

People pray to God with noble intentions, asking for his continued intervention. Removing poverty, ushering peace, clothing the nude and brining nourishment to the famished are petitions uttered on a global scale. In the Scriptures, a narrative unfolds around Jesus. He is finished with his teaching for the day, and the people are becoming hungry. The disciples ask him to send the people to the villages for food. But the answer from the teacher is surprising: "You give them something to eat." Befuddled, the disciples wonder how they will pay to feed the large crowd. So Jesus takes what is available, five cakes of bread and two fish, and gives thanks. The people eat well and leftovers are collected. I have always noticed the Scriptures state 5,000 eat this day. But 5K is the number of men. And since families are with the father, 10-12K is likely. Jesus likes to challenge people who ask for his exclusive direction. His reply is simple: "Take what you have available and create change."

Two films come to mind. The first is "Pay it Forward" (2000), directed by Mimi Leder, a film I consistently reference. Trevor McKinney, like Anne Frank, believes in the goodness of humanity. He decides to undertake a project--repaying kindness forward instead of back. And therein lays the caveat, the oddity of the task. When people show others kindness, they are surprised, dare I say shocked. Why is this? The West is underscored by a foundation of individuality. People are resources to achieve objectives, tools for personal gain, disposed when they are unneeded. Is this picture harsh or a vision of reality? When charity is shared, the recipient feels obligated to return the favor. They cannot loose the sense of debt, the give and take relationship which ebbs and flows in society. The second film I wish to note is "Evan Almighty" (2007), directed by Tom Shadyac. In this particular narrative, God asks Evan Baxter, the anchor now senator, to build an ark before a flood arrives. Reluctant, Evan dismisses the commission and continues to go forth with his personal challenge to "change the world". The animals begin arriving and Evan's physical appearance drastically changes. So he decides to follow through. As the film closes, Evan converses with God and discovers the deeper meaning of his large boat. People change the world by building a personal A.R.K. A random act of kindness can change the world.

The church I attend is deciding to show kindness in the county it resides in. The series title captures the thought well: "Random Acts of Christmas". But the series is built on a foundation with deeper roots, a mantra, a mindset of service. We are giving ourselves away. In this Christmas season, the church community is showing kindness to complete strangers with acts of kindness. The catch is very simple: pay it forward and nominate someone truly in need this season. Groceries for a year, gas for a year, a college scholarship and two cars are part of the list being given away to families. Why is a church willing to do this? Why are people willing to do this? This statement is now reduced to a cliche, but the staying power continues to remain in effect. St. Paul writes, "It is more blessed to give than to receive."

As the race for the White House continues to draw near, the call for public service continues to be studied. And oddly enough, studies confirm the validity of this challenge. Research notes people who volunteer have higher feelings of satisfaction than those who don't. But will imposing service diminish willing participants? Time will tell. It appears citizens are deciding to dive in without the call of the government. They are deciding to leverage the abilities and talents they have for the sake of others, without expectation of return. Humans always compare themselves with others, focused on who has what, who lacks what. And it is always easier to hope others will take the initiative, but why wait?

As Christmas draws near, I cannot help but remember George Bailey. "It's a Wonderful Life" (1946), directed by Frank Capra, returns once again Christmas Eve. I am thankful to say I have it on DVD now, and will no longer suffer through advertisements before the story returns. As I think about this kind fellow, wonderfully portrayed by Jimmy Stewart, I see a man who gives himself away the duration of the film. He decides to forgo college so his younger brother can; a newlywed, he gives his money for the honeymoon to the town's citizens. He passes on a lucrative investment opportunity to bring shelter to those who need it. And when a large sum of money is misplaced, he wonders whether his giving has been in vain. He begins to pray at the bar in a scene a good friend of mine believes is one of the best in film history. I am inclined to agree. His good friend Clarence shows him how wonderful his life is, how many people he has helped. Those people rally to help him. In the closing scene, friends and family descend on the Bailey's. My eyes tear up thinking about it. It is good to share kindness with others, with both friends and those not known on a personal level.

St. Paul references his life as a "drink offering, poured out in the service of others." Genuine benevolence is the drained fluid. Even Jesus, executed as a radical revolutionary by religious leaders, literally drained his life for others with the puncture of his side on a death cross. Kindness and charity are replenished through solitude, through personal cost, through meditation, through friends. No man is a failure who has friends. So when the Christmas season has passed, when March 22nd arrives, when it is simply another day in work, in school, in lunch, in front of the computer, the television, remember to raise a glass for giving yourself away for others the year round. Why? Love, pure love for all. Then drain the cup dry and start over.

"Focus"

"The greatest revolution of our generation is the discovery that human beings, by changing the inner attitudes of their minds, can change the outer aspects of their lives."
--William James

"Revolution begins with the self, in the self."
--Toni Cade Bambara

"A Time to Kill", directed by Joel Schumacher, fell into theaters in 1996. But it was not until recently I sat down with this film. I was unprepared for the film's opening as my eyes welled with tears. After the angst settled, I inched forward in my chair, fixated with the upcoming scenes. Carl Lee Hailey, in anguish over the rape of his daughter, waits in the side door of the courtroom. Without notice, he rushes down the hall, killing the men responsible, dropping his gun and returning to the refuge of his home. Moments later, he is escorted to jail to face murder charges. Attorney Jake Brigance decides to defend Hailey's actions and show his behavior is justified. What follows in his quest for justice is the resurgence of the local Ku Klux Klan chapter, violence, betrayal, tears, and hits on his life. As the film turns toward closing, Jake's home is in ashes. His dog Max is nowhere to be found and his colleague Harry Rex is asking him to drop the case before he dies. Turning his head down and then looking up with soot on his face and red in his eyes, Jake replies, "No, I can't. I won't. I'm not going to quit. I quit now and all this is for nothing." Jake looks to his left and a faint bark rises in the brush. And Max bursts forth to find Jake smiling, more determined than ever.

I am discovering revolutions take time. While a handful are brief (military coups), the majority fan out over years, perhaps decades. For instance, the Industrial Revolution spanned much of the 18th century. The Civil Rights Revolution spans 1954-1968, but even now, upholding equality is still a subject of discussion and clarification, debate and division. And the Information Revolution, underscored with the World Wide Web, continues to surprise. Information available to everyone with a personal computer and access to this "highway" is truly staggering. In fact, the problem is too much information; sifting through knowledge is daunting. As revolutions evolve over time, calm resolve is needed. With this in mind, study this definition of revolution: choosing to stay the course at all times. Shifty leaders cannot facilitate revolutions. They look to the next idea or cause and tend to fall away at the first signs of conflict, resistance, boredom.

Resolve is the natural extension of revolution. And leaders who understand this principle stay focused when hope is tested, when odds seem insurmountable. It is imperative to look for the guidance of these men and women. George Washington, Lincoln and Roosevelt come to mind, as does Martin Luther King Jr. and Jesus. Each understand the larger picture and grasp what is necessary to bring it from thought to reality. In fact, husband and wife affirm the aforementioned statement in the wedding ceremony. Resolve is vital to solid marriage. But unfortunately, many spouses choose otherwise, and thus the divorce rate continues to hold at 50%. And knowing people who have parted ways, fear pricks my spirit from time to time as I ponder the intensity of the marriage commitment. But I then hearken to pop culture and the wisdom of Wilson Wilson on "Home Improvement". It is rare to find an episode in which Tim heads to the fence to seek advice from his kind neighbor. I recall Tim once asking Wilson (or should I say Wilson?) why men and women stay together. After chatting, Tim realized as he began conversing with his wife Jill that the marriage vow between spouses is renewed each day with these words, spoken or unspoken: "I choose you." Revolution is choosing to stay the course.

King Solomon writes in the book of ancient wisdom, the Proverbs, "In his heart a man plans his course..." I also know that in life, exercising resolve is noble. From time to time, I flip through the channels in the afternoon and stumble on the Maury Povich show. I don't know if this subject is simply good for ratings, but the show headline always seems to read, "Who is the father?" or "I will find the father" or "Are you the father"? Amidst the censored obscenities, a mother is trying to determine who is connected by blood to her young children by paternity tests. And while the results are outlandish with cheers from innocent men and inconsolable mothers, some fathers choose to stay and raise the children. Though this can be accomplished off national airwaves, the decision is noble nonetheless. Turn your eyes to Iraq for a moment. While President Bush is continually criticized, no one can deny his resolve to succeed in this country currently at a tipping point. Of course, "success" will be unique to define and will take many years. Even his speeches have been peppered with the phrase "stay the course".

In "The Patriot" (2000), directed by Roland Emmerich, a vivid scene reveals Benjamin Martin (Mel Gibson) in shock and grief over the death of his son Gabriel. His good friend Harry Burwell (Chris Cooper) shares some simple advice: "Stay the course." Still unsure, Martin discovers the flag his son continually worked on during the course of the war, stitched together at last. He chooses to rejoin the militia and walk side by side with his men to victory over the Redcoats. Revolutions do not begin in mass numbers. When one looks to another to make the first move, they may or may not take action. But when I stop to think, I recognize this simple truth: I can act with or without others. This bold step can be frightening, but the underlying hope is others will decide to follow, each having made the choice for himself or herself. And the collection of the masses brings sweeping change.

It is important to remember that diligence in a specific course of action can be misguided from time to time. I recall working my first job for six years, from late high school into college. Seniority provided flexible scheduling and I enjoyed the people I worked with. But as I reflected on graduation, I noticed complacency masked itself as comfort. I needed fresh change, for staying the course would lead me into a career I did not envision myself in. Accordingly, I drew up a resignation letter and inhaled the air of bold change. This is also why I write. While I know my beliefs are grounded, I wish to explore spiritual formation in new ways, unwilling to accept practice and principle simply for the sake of tradition. This is bold, but in my humble belief, necessary to growth in character and wisdom. Change is truly a growth opportunity, a phrase my colleagues at work like to use. Arnold Bennett writes, "Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts."

I welcome the revolutions that make life better; whether they are simply gadgets that create additional convenience or laziness is another story. I'm referring to ideas that begin as whispers and slowly gain traction. Word begins to spread further and further. Microcredit is a revolution. Buddhist monks marching peacefully in Myanmar is a revolution. Equality under the law is a revolution. Speaking your mind freely is a revolution. Writing your thoughts publicly is a revolution. Selfless sacrifice is a revolution. Eliminating AIDS in Africa is a revolution. A revolution beats in the heart, sparks the mind and puts the hands in motion. Revolutionaries stay focused even when hope of accomplishment dwindles, even when others decide to drop out. They see the vision they have cast and continually paint the canvas of what can be, the hope of a brighter next day, the hope of smile words cannot express, the hope a love beyond the scope of man will transcend time and space to reside in reality. Love in the moment, love for a lifetime, is indeed the revolution.

"Collision"

It's the sense of touch. In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. In L.A., nobody touches you. We're always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.
“Crash” (2004), directed by Paul Haggis

Isn’t it ironic that computers, intended to bring us closer together, to bridge relationships, have only isolated us further? Electronic mail is the preferred form of communication while “emoticons” supply virtual sentiments. Myspace.com has one hundred million registered users while online dating is at its zenith.

I look for the one seat buffer at the cinema and search out an empty table at the restaurant. Oddly enough, I’m not claustrophobic. Why do I require this artificial “space?” Gazing at the other patrons in the theater, I come to the realization that I am not alone practicing this tendency. Who among us doesn’t sigh when the usher asks everyone to shift to the center, creating openings for the end chairs?

As a nation, this behavior is only amplified. Existing in our own realities, we cluster amongst a specific body of family and friends. At work we are men and women of productivity, putting our mind and keystrokes to the task at hand, watching the minutes tick toward lunch, anxiously awaiting the end of another day. Why does each face look bland? Why does it appear we approach church the same way, eager to spend time with God but avoid relationship building, quick to bolt when the service concludes? Why do we live this way?

A reminder is lurking about: we need one another. No, “need” is not the correct word; no one exists to justify me. I am a self-directed adult and follow through with my own decisions. God defines and sustains my identity. As a race of men and women, do we want one another? Can we truly love for the simple reason we inhabit the same space, breathe the same air, mourn the death of a loved one, laugh at our quirks and idiosyncrasies?

Spiritual growth is simple among individuals who share the same beliefs. Why do I wish to sit and chat with those who believe otherwise then? I have no intention of questioning my faith; I hope it will be strengthened through engaging dialogue. To understand culture though, I must be open to learning, willing to listen, willing to exhibit humility. Is it possible our differences bring us closer to one another?

I spent time this morning chatting with a fellow worker I have never met before. I came to find out he is originally from Japan and now works in sales.  I listened intently as he explained how the Japanese practice business and concluded the conversation with a lunch invitation. There are numerous companies on the fourth floor…and numerous opportunities to meet new people. I made a comment to a stranger at Borders last Christmas and wound up with a dear friend.

Fear comes in meeting new people. We expose our beliefs and quirks, biases and ideologies. Rejection may be the sole cause of avoiding community. I write this piece as a reflection of that fear, an extension of my own shortcomings. I have been timid in stepping out, topsy-turvy about making the first step. But I am committed to change; no one can do this for me. I wish to be intentional about community because I have discovered some of the best memories in life are created through conversation, through meals together, through hugs, through tears, through chuckles.

Our existence is often deemed a lost cause. This world is very ugly at times. As I write, people are dying. But I no longer feel indifferent at heartache and tragedy—pain and lament well from within. I believe the human race is not a lost cause; Christ seeks out lost causes—like me. I want to love my neighbor and colleague, the homeless man and the prostitute, the joyous and the broken. The time has come for lives to collide. A crash is near—I hope it comes quickly.