What Would Jesus Drive?

04 Thursday Mar 2010

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Forget world peace.

What are my husband and I going to do about our three-year old Lexus?  It’s time to decide, as our lease runs out next week — do we buy or do we walk away?

Before the “unintended acceleration” problems grew into the latest major recall and President Akio Toyoda was called to Capitol Hill, we had planned to buy our car — or buy a new Lexus if the dealership made us a good deal.

But even without that most recent unsubstantiated report on ABC News —  where sixty owners of ‘fixed’ cars assert a faulty fix — I feared Toyota had not yet identified the source of the problem.  And after reading reports of other Lexus owners, I’m  no longer comfortable driving a car that has a mind of its own.  We like our Lexus, but in this case, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

It was in writing this post that we decided to buy something different.  Funny thing that we’re not crazy about any of the choices  — at least not like we were with the Lexus.  But since we need a car, my not so tongue-in-cheek question comes down to this — What Would Jesus Do? Would Jesus prefer to drive around town in a Ford, an Infiniti or a BMW?

Two years ago I would have put Jesus in a humble Ford.  After all, can anyone really see Jesus driving around in a luxury car?  Something about Jesus and luxury doesn’t quite go together — maybe because he’s known for saying words like, “Do not store up for yourself treasures on earth…”

Yet these days, I’m not so sure.   Buying a humble car can actually end up becoming a source of pride — when its done for the wrong reasons, like when proving ourselves better than those sinners …who’ve succumbed to materialism.  Pity those rich sinners!

Yet…what about that Pharisee who prayed this little prayer, in one of Jesus’ parables?  — “God, I thank you that I am not like other men — robbers, evildoers, adulterers – or even like this tax collector.” Jesus always had a surprise twist in his stories  — and in this one, the sinful (and rich) tax collector was actually judged to be more godly than the Pharisee because of his humility.  Humility rather than exterior appearances always carried weight with Jesus.

Jesus was an equal opportunity sort of guy.  He kept company with sinners, the rich, the poor and even the Pharisaic Religious Right.  Yet, Jesus saw no one good but God alone — least of all himself.  Jesus wasn’t into accumulating earthly treasures because Jesus didn’t want anything to come between God and himself or the rest of the world and himself.    And ideally, neither should we, whether the “stuff” be riches, fame, or pride —  education, houses or cars.

So forget about stuff.  Humility should be my focus — and here’s my favorite take on humility from one who tried to live true to her words:

“If we were humble, nothing would change us –- neither praise nor discouragement.  If someone were to criticize us, we would not feel discouraged.  If someone were to praise us, we also would not be proud.”  — Mother Teresa

Using Mother Teresa ‘s humility yardstick as a  litmus test to car buying, my questions become:  Will owning a Ford (or a luxury car) change me  in some way?  Will it make me feel better about myself in some way?

Who knows but maybe Jesus wouldn’t still surprise us today?  Can you see Jesus driving around town today in an Infiniti  —  preaching the good news with recycled words like, “To infinity and beyond.”  Or maybe Jesus might tool about in a BMW, as even during his days on earth, Jesus was Big Man Walking.  Maybe Jesus would forsake all vehicles and continue to use those Chrevrolegs?

All of this musing helped me recall one of Janis Joplin’s final recordings, written with poet Michael Mcclure and Bob Neuwirth.  According to a few sources, the song Mercedes-Benz was intended as “a critical social commentary on how people relate happiness to money and material possessions.”   Supposedly — “the song heavily reflects Joplin’s view of what she saw as a materialistic world.”  But I’m not so sure.  Like Jesus, Janis apparently appreciated the surprise twist in the story she told.  Janis drove around in a 1965 Porche.

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me ….a Mercedes Benz?

Dreamsicles

02 Tuesday Mar 2010

Posted by in Life at Home, Prayer, Soul Care, Writing

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“Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.   — Langston Hughes

I wake to a morning sky parfait, though I am unaware of it.

Instead, wrapped in my own private world, I’m focused on my unloaded dreams — where is that new dream journal?  Before I can find the missing journal, I look out the back door to instead find a red-orange horizon resting under dark blue canvas resting under a striped double ribbon of true orange against true blue.  The ribbon fades and swirls until it’s topped with Dreamsicle Orange.  I devour this rare and lovely morning treat.  Soon, the rising sun will melt its beauty.

Dreams melt away just as quickly.  If I don’t record my dreams on paper in those first waking-up minutes, they slip back to wherever dreams live, buried deep under the more comfining thoughts of everyday life.  So most days, even before I get out of bed, I grab my journal to record my freshly minted dreams.  Weighting the strange disjointed images with words keeps dreams alive, so that I can ponder the images and messages under daylight.

What do our dreams tell us?  Why am I investing part of Lenten morning devotion towards dream work?  Oh, I have my reasons — three good ones, in fact.

The first is that my spiritual director invited me to take a look at my dreams for answers I’ve been seeking.

Then there’s this quote I ran across in a book I’m reading   — Clyde H. Reid’s Dreams — Discovering Your Inner Teacher — that’s part of my spiritual direction coursework:

“Our dreams can show us who we are.  In fact, they can sometimes show us ourselves unmercifully.  If we really want to know ourselves in the deepest ways, we need to record and study our dreams carefully.”

Reading Reid’s words reminded me of a final reason, an invitation I heard from Pulitzer prize-winning author, Marilynne Robinson, a couple of years back, when she was here in Oklahoma to speak at one of our local universities.  “Descend into self to write– discover your primary self — the beautiful, the true; it’s preparation for writing words worth saying.”

Though Reid’s book assures that dreams are not terribly hard to interpret — as long as we remember and record them in a sufficient level of detail — the hard part is remembering them.  Every night I go to sleep asking God to help me remember.   About half of the time I do .  And oh, as I spill out dreams on paper, have I noticed some familiar faces  —  Ms. Perfect and Ms. Workaholic and Ms. Low Self-esteem — while comically wrestling with concerns that consume my waking hours.

My dreams are like an old Hollywood movie that jerks along with missing frames and little plot.   Sitting in a darkened theater, I watch my  dreams play out.  I do not direct the scenes in which I am both actor and audience.  Instead, my dream spins off the reel unfiltered, a poor sort of improvisational comedy.  One scene leads to another — personal worlds collide — past, present and future merge and swirl  as the dead and alive keep each other company.

Dreams are a brave new world of unedited truth.  But under the dreams and under the truth, I believe, is a God that lies at the horizon between humus earth and the heavens, a God whose red hot love waits to burn up all the lies, known and unknown, that have become part of who I believe I am — but am not.  Somewhere in my dreams, waits a God with the keys of true blue to set me free… … so that I can soar with childish abandon and joy that comes from keeping company with Dreamsicles.

School Daze

28 Sunday Feb 2010

Posted by in Good Reads, Life at Home

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“…what person out there don’t remember their first-grade teacher?  Maybe they don’t remember what they learn, but I’m telling you, I done raised enough kids to know, they matter.” —  Aibileen, The Help


Oh she knows what she’s talking about, that colored maid Aibileen.  And not just about first grade teachers.  That wizened old woman — well, she knows a lot about life.  Aibileen’s raised seventeen white babies and done a whole lot of living before she ever steps foot on the first page of Kathryn Stockett’s novel, The Help.

I can’t imagine having someone like Aibileen in my young life, someone who listened and knew just what to say to set the world right.  But one’s thing’s for sure — that young girl in the book — Mae Mobley — she’s one lucky little girl, even though Mae Mobley “ain’t gone be no beauty queen,” even though Mae Mobley’s parents are so broken they don’t know how to love her, even though Mae Mobley’s teacher damages Mae Mobley’s inner sense of right and wrong.   Aibileen gone make it all better.  Aibileen will put things right.

There is so much right about this book.  I am thankful to Kathryn Stockett for telling this story, a story of how silence and pretense can kill a person’s inner truth while sharing it, with the right audience, can set people free to become their best and true selves.  The story is not just about Aibileen.  There are two other principal characters as well, plus three supporting characters.  But in the way of all good stories, this story is everyone’s story.  It is my story as it is your story, as it raises uncomfortable questions and stirs the silence of deep consciousness to reveal indivisible truth.

Too many childhood questions and stories are silenced, silenced with words like,  “Not right now”  or “Go peddle your papers.”   Too many words are left unsaid, that if spoken, would build up a child’s self-esteem.  But the words are not left unsaid by Aibileen.  Throughout this book, Aibileen feeds little Mae Mobley with a steady diet of words  to help Mae Mobley know just how good and just how right she really is… even when Mae Mobley’s world tells her otherwise — words like, “you is kind,” “you is smart” and “you is important.”

Reading this story made me wonder how life would be different if school curriculum taught these basic truths to young children.  And while I know the school shouldn’t be responsible for teaching this sort of material, I wonder if the teaching job might be easier if teachers were teaching children who believed in themselves. Sad as it is, parents don’t always teach their children well.  And what parents inadvertently teach may instead be the opposite lessons —  “you is mean,” “you is dumb” and “you is worthless.”

If  I’d spent more time in first grade learning Aibileen’s 3 U’s and less time trying to learn those 3 R’s, I may have passed first grade believing in myself.  My teacher would have had no excuse to yell at me or grab me by the shoulders and shake me in frustration for failing to catch on to my lessons.  I may not have bought into the lies I ended up believing about myself, lies like what a slow learner I was, that made me want to be anybody but myself.

Oh, Aibileen!  How right you were when you said first grade teachers matter.  Those early childhood teachers matter so much, and I am very thankful my daughter Kara is out there trying to make a difference in a lot of kindergartner’s lives.

Hopefully for some, the early grade school days were memorable in a good way.  And though mine was memorable in a bad way, I did at least learn to check myself out in a daze — probably as a self-protective measure —  rather than pay too close attention to what I was being taught.

But here’s an everydaze lesson worthy of your attention:   You is kind.  You is smart.  You is important.