Denying Power Pie but Taking Responsibility

April 24^th, 2013.  It seemed to shock the western world a bit that day when a factory collapsed, killing hundreds of workers.  Do you remember how you felt?

I guess that news wasn’t all that shocking to me.  I’ve known for a long time that workers across the world are treated poorly.  What happened in Bangladesh was just one incident, but one that caught the attention of the west.  It is not very often that we think about the people on the other side of our clothing.  It is not very often that was ask who grew the cotton, or who made the textiles, but we shouldn’t forget them.

Remember.
Remember the victims.
Remember their families.
Remember that there are many other factories still operating in oppressive or unsafe ways.

So, what do we do?
There seems to me to be four options.
1-forget
2-do something to appease our guilt
3-seek to do no harm
4-seek to do good

The easiest option is to forget.  Tell yourself that clothes grow in the store and that there is no one on the other side of them.  Please don't forget.

When we do something to appease our guilt we would maybe give money to a helpful organisation or stop buying things made in Bangladesh.  While those things are probably good and helpful, they allow us to feel like we are "doing our part," and then continue to live the rest of our lives unconcerned with the needs of others.  We might sponsor a child, and then support the company who underpays the child's parents working in a factory.  When we just seek to appease our guilt, we enable the system to keep functioning as it does.  We feel good because we are no longer buying clothing made in Bangladesh, but the clothes we buy are still made in oppressive factories in other countries.  We feel good, because we are "doing our part," but the reality is that we are doing just enough to allow oppressive systems to continue without feeling bad about ourselves.  “Our part” isn’t enough to make change.  Most people feel like they are doing their part, but there is still unfathomable suffering in this world.

Seek to do no harm.  This is my general approach, and yet, how often I fall short.  This approach has me saying that I don't want to participate in suffering perpetuating systems.  When I buy something I want to know that the production of it did not entail the suffering of others.  I have so much.  Right now I think the only thing i need to buy is food.  Most people in this world have two or three outfits, I don't need more clothes.  I have enough.  When I buy food I have to make choices and I try to make choices that cause no harm to others.  Doing that is fine, but it isn't doing good.  It is just a refusal to participate in evil.  It should be an obvious choice.  No one deserves praise for refusing to participate in evil systems.  The real question should be, how could we do otherwise?

Seek to do good.  Seek to make radical change.  Seek to create working conditions where the poor are given opportunities and their children can go to school.  Stand up for workers’ rights.  Investigate factories, make the conditions known to the public and create social pressure for the companies to change.  There is a problem with seeking to do good.  It is not easy.  It requires of us time, effort, energy and money.   If we really want to seek change, it will require our life.  Here is the other problem, we can't change everything.  But our inability must not be an excuse for changing nothing.  It has been suggested to me that I choose one problem and fight against it.

Here's my conclusion.  We mustn't be content "doing our part."  If we really care about those suffering, the least we can do it step out of systems that perpetuate the suffering, but if we really care, even that won't be enough.  Seeking to do no harm isn't a solution.  If we really care we will pour our lives into changing the systems.  Is it worth it?

Though sometimes it is easiest to be ignorant, information is available.  Check out these websites:

www.free2work.org

www.corpwatch.org

Tired of Eating More Than My Share of Power Pie. Can I Give My Oversized Peice Away?

I’m sick of power pie.  I’ve had more than my share.  Though my income is pretty small compared to those in Canada, in 2012 I made more money than 85% of the world’s population (now see here).  In our world systems, money is very closely connected to power, so is education.  I have a high school diploma.  I am almost done my undergrad.  I also have power just from being white and speaking English. 

I wonder if I’ve created God in my image.  I want him to be the sort that gives up his power because I want to give up mine.  I wanna be free from responsibility.  Every time I buy something I make a choice that is connected to the well-being of others.  With our economic systems that function efficiently with underpaid labourer, my purchasing power all too often buys into their games.  I don’t like it.  Power seems like a dirty thing to me and I don’t want any of it.  Thoughts like these make me want to leave Canada, sell all I have and move to Liberia and work as a casual labourer on a farm.  It’s tempting because it would take away my choices and leave me with very few remaining options.  It is tempting because I would no longer be an oppressor.

When Simba’s dad died, he asked uncle Scar what he should do.  “Run” Scar replied, “Run far away and never return.”  Simba ran.  He ran until he was exhausted, made new friends and began a new life of fun times and little responsibility.  He had no worries.  However, in his absence the Pride Land was oppressed by Scar and the hyenas.  There was poverty and mass starvation.  Somehow Nala found Simba and begged him to come back to the Pride Land and take up the responsibility he once had.  She is convinced he can make a difference, and he can.

Well, Lion King is far from perfect, but it challenges the way I think about running from power.  It does so happen that I have power, and perhaps I should us it for good.  But that sounds wrong.  I don’t want to justify a means for any end.  But maybe power isn’t as dirty as I make it sound.  It is quite possible that there are two (if not more) ways one can use their power.  Power can be used to control (and I want to stay far away from that), or it can be used to influence.  Rather than talking about the power I have, perhaps I should recognise and embrace my ability to influence others.  Anyhow, I am not sure yet.

I have power.  Is it wrong to use power for good?

The Weakness of God - Does God Deny Power Pie?

            Weeping, moaning, begging for his life, but no.  He is taken, tortured.  Slowly, slowly he is killed, alone, abandoned.  This is the man called God.  Those were his last moments.  He did not fight when the soldiers came for him.  Silently he was led to his death, nailed to a cross, raised up as a spectacle and mocked.  Thirsty, he was thirsty.  If anyone, he had the right to ask the good God why there is evil, and he did.  God cried out from the cross “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

            Christian philosophy requires a radically unique approach to the problem of evil.  It must account for the murder of its God, thus reconsider what it means for such a being to be all-powerful.  It seems evident, though some would disagree, that evil in the world is counter to the will of God.  If God is all-good and all-powerful, logically he would rid this world of all evil at once.  Unfortunately he does not.  Humans continue to perpetuate evil and suffering.  An explanation for this evil in the world is that God, in love, has abdicated power to his human creation so he could be in a self-giving relationship with them.  A god who gives power to humans becomes weak, because he has given humans control and cannot take it back.  This is the God whose weakness is ultimately manifested upon the cross.

            A good god will do what is good, always, regardless of the foreseen consequences.  While God made many rocks and trees, he needs not give himself to them.  They wouldn’t notice if he did, but God wants to give himself to his creation.  The Christian God is believed to be communal and eternal love.  Love wants to love relationally.  To do so, God needed to create beings that were like him.  He made humans creative, capable of love, and then shared his power with them.  Power, unlike love, is not infinite.  That is to say while giving love does not cause the giver to have less love, giving power results in the giver losing power.  If love is like procreation, an act that multiplies itself, power is like a pumpkin pie.  When God shared power with humanity, he had less pie for himself.  He did this because love, and therefore God, is relational.  In the same way that oppressed peasants do not seek friendships their relentless oppressors, humans would not desire a relationship with an all-controlling being.  God became weak so humans could become strong and a relationship between them could flourish.

            Since nothing is impossible for an all-powerful God, could he not have created humans to have a relationship with him without limiting his own power?  Had he not given them power, or if he had given them the ability to make a few choices, but ultimately retained a trump card, he would have had a control based relationship with his creatures.  However, love is not controlling and God loves humans.  This required bestowing power upon them, even if they were prone to perpetuate evil.  The love God has for humans is a love that allows them to do as they please.

Since God was all-powerful, it would have been possible for him to have created humans with freewill who always chose goodness.  Freewill without creatures ever choosing evil is a logical possibility.  God, looking ahead, could have conceived how his creatures would act if he created them as he did and have created them differently.  If he was really good, why did he not create humans with freewill who never chose evil?  To address this valid concern, a distinction must be made between freewill and power.  An example from a common parenting technique will distinguish between the two.

            Poor Billy is sick.  His mom wants him to take medicine so that he will get better.  Billy does not want to swallow the pill, so his mom gives him a choice.  He can take the pill with milk or with apple juice.  Billy feels empowered, chooses apple juice and takes the pill.  Billy, however, does not have real power in this scenario.  He does have a real choice, but his choices are limited.  If Billy could knock his mom over and refuse treatment all together, he would have power.  Human power goes beyond freewill.  It is the ability to do things beyond the will of God.  God does not hold a trump card.  In giving power to the people he has emptied himself.  He is not in control.  However, if he was in control when the world was set in motion, couldn’t he have ensured that his creatures would do as he desired?  No.  God is not a controlling being.  It must necessarily be that the power God has given humans controls destinies and can act against God’s desired intent.  Humans can knock God over and refuse treatment all together.

            Many believe in situations like the one above the mother should force her son to take the medicine for his own good.  This may very well be the case if the son is three.  However, if he is thirty the social consensus seems to be that his mother should not take away her son’s power and force the pill upon him.  Though it is right to do that to a child, it is very wrong to do it to an adult.  In the same way that a mother does not have power over her adult son, God does not have power over his human creation.  He has given it to the humans, and does not have the ability to take it back.  Like a parent who must give power to their adult children and hope their relationship can continue based on love, so a loving God gives his human creations power and hopes they chose a relationship with him.

            Even though it seems impossible that a once all-powerful God could somehow become less powerful, this would not be impossible for the all-powerful being.  This is not to say that God still has complete power, but he has restrained himself from using it.  Contrarily, God has relinquished his power.  This is where the metaphor of a power pie comes in handy.  As God gave power to his human creation to rule over nature and themselves, he retains less and less of the pie.  It is not that he holds himself back from using certain powers, but that he no longer has those powers to use.  It appears that omnipotence is a trait which God possessed for a time and then gave away.  If God wished to retain his power, he could have created a different world, where his creatures had freewill, but God still had all the power.  As it is, I am not convinced that God likes pumpkin power pie all that much.  Though, when he was alone he held it, he never indulged in the pie; rather, he freely gave it away as he created.  Had God kept the power to himself, offering humanity freewill but hold the trump card, he would not have created beings in his image with whom he could have full relationships.  He desired such relationships so he could love, serve and give himself to the other.  Some may ask if a being who is not all-powerful is still a god.  However, a better question is this: is a being who is all-powerful still good? 

            Many humans cry up to the sky, hoping for a powerful, mighty rescue.  When their pleas are met with silence they cry out, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me.”  Trapped in the midst of evil, humans long for a powerful being to take control and set things right.  In the face of violence, poverty and environmental degradation they feel helpless, alone.  But central to Christianity is the notion that God has not abandoned his creation.  One possible way to hold this belief in the face of evil in this world is to consider that God’s goal is love, and his means to that end cannot be power or control; rather it is love.  This is seen when in weakness, as a baby, God came down to his creation.  Though it may have been hoped that he would come with power and overthrow the Roman Empire, he chose a different way.  It was the way of forgiveness, material minimalism and self-sacrifice.  In his death he showed that there is influence in love, a different sort of influence.  Not one that is controlling, but one that is compelling.  It is an invitation to weakness; it is an invitation to love.

            A central Christian premise is that God is love.  It is the very essence of who he is, and so he made humanity to be creatures he could relationally love.  Therefore, he did not maintain control over them.  Rather he gave them power to control themselves and rule over creation.  Humans have held onto their power, using it for their own good and thus causing evil in this world.  While God hates evil, he no longer has power over his creation.  He cannot control them and so he seeks them out.  In ultimate weakness God embraces humanity, becoming one with them, serving them and being murdered by them.  The Christian God knows suffering.  He has felt the torment of evil and yet he was helpless.  He looked his murderers in the eyes, unable to do anything but forgive them.  In love God gave power to his creation, and in love he compels them to give it away. 
            “Come,” God beckons, “come.  Deny your power, embrace weakness and follow me.  Abandon control and seek mercy, justice and love.  Look, I am making all things new.  I am your hope, your servant, your lover.”

Shameless Self-Promotion

Life is Fine

 Recently I've been reminded that friendships, even if they are well established, require time.  I’d been slacking in the amount of time I’d given my relationships with my Edmonton friends.  With that in mind I decided to make a greater effort to hang out with them.  They are friendships I valued, and longed to sustain.  I made trips to Edmonton to see and hang out with them. 

When I was in Edmonton I spent a quantity of time with my friends.  The one is getting married, the other has a job which could be her career, and the third just bought a house.  They are doing life.  One evening we played Ultimate Frisbee together on a team, and went out for a beer and free pizza after.  It struck me how similar their friends were to them, and how different they were from many of my newer (since high school) friends.  All the same.  All playing the same game of getting ahead and leaving others behind. It's the American dream.

I thought about James:  “Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works.”  There was no telling at the Frisbee game who had faith and who did not.  We were all the same.  We were playing Frisbee after all, not healing the sick.  It made me wonder if there was something different we should be doing, if there was some far different way we should be living.

Playing Frisbee was great, going out after was fun, but is that it?  Is that the end of the story?  I won’t be satisfied living my life for Frisbee games and free pizza.  I want more.

I’m just not sure what more would look like.  I feel that for two reasons.  First is quite simply that I feel like I don’t have time for more.  The other is this:  in my efforts to help this world, my steps so far have been in causing less harm. Rather than doing helpful things I have been not doing harmful things.  I've been stepping out and saying "I don't want to be part of the problem," but that doesn't make me part of the solution.  I'm not sure about my next steps.

What are your thoughts?  Does faith make people different?  How is faith shown through works?

Edit, Oct 08, 2013:
Sorry friends who play Frisbee, buy houses, start careers and get married.  Those things are not bad.  They by no means exclude the possibility of doing a lot of good with ones life.  Also, I realise I've mentioned just a sliver of your life.  You do a whole lot more than just play Frisbee.  I get that.  I'm just hoping for something different.  I wanna make every moment count towards changing global systems for the better.  Yes, that is overwhelming, and probably impossible, but I want to try.  The questions of faith are ones I've been asking for a while now.  My friend gets kicked out of her house.  Does Patricia the Christian have anything more to offer that person than Patricia the non-Christian?  I'm not sure she does.  I guess I'm trying to say the questions of faith are reflective of my journey and are not intended as judgments upon yours.  I'm sorry that you got used as the example of what I do not want.  I'm sorry I created a straw-man out of your lives, making it something easy to critique.  I realise that your lives are way more complex and beautiful than this post conveys.  I'm sorry for broken trust and hurt feelings that resulted from this post. Sorry.

Neither here nor there. Searching for two feet above.

When I was in grade 11 or 12 my father read to me the theological novel, A New Kind of Christian, by Brian McLaren.  It is a story of two guy discussing seemingly dichotomous theological questions.  One would bring up the question, the other would give the answer.  The answers are all strikingly similar.  A question might be Arminianism or Calvinism.  In response the man makes two points in the dirt, one representing Calvinism, and the other Arminianism.  He draws a line connecting the dots.  He then says “the answer is neither here,” pointing to one of the dots, “nor there,” pointing to the other, “nor somewhere along this line.  Rather,” and he would wave his hand in a circular motion about two feet above his diagram, “it is somewhere up here.”

Disclaimer, it was quite a while ago when this book was read to me.  I might not have all of the details right, but I remember this answer.  The answer is not one side of the dichotomy, nor the other.  Neither is it some compromise of the two.  The answer is not on our diagrams.  It is something other.  We need a new way of seeing things.  I found this answer both compelling yet dissatisfying.  It seemed right to be, but if the answer was neither Calvinism nor Arminianism, then what was it?  I wanted more.  I was okay with him taking away the only options I saw, if he could replace them with something.  Yet all he gave us was something, somewhere, two feet above.

I want a new way of seeing food.  I can draw one dot on the ground and label it over-indulgence, gluttony and obsession.  I’ll draw another dot and label it counting every calorie, dieting, and at the extreme anorexia.  I think both dots could be considered eating disorders.  Neither of them are healthy and so we draw a line connecting them and try to find our place on the line. 

I like food.  I like food quite a lot.  I like to be eating, and sometimes find myself eating when I am not hungry and the thing I am putting in my mouth doesn’t even taste good.  So, naturally I find myself closer to the gluttony dot.  The gluttony dot exclaims, “Food is good!”  I think that food is good, but I recognise that it is not healthy to be eating all the time.  So, I try to distance myself from the gluttony dot.  I slide along the line, “watching what I eat,” and praising myself when I deny my desire to eat.  The dieting dot screams “food is bad.  It’s a trap.  Keep far away from it and rule over it.  Don’t let it rule over you.”  Again, I find myself agreeing that we shouldn’t let food rule over us, and that food is bad if we eat too much. However,  I don’t want to count every calorie.  I try to avoid these two dots, and balance on the line somewhere in between them.  I want the good from both perspective, but I want to avoid the bad.  I’m trying to tiptoe along and avoid the muck.

I hope McLaren is right.  I hope there is some answer that is neither here nor there, nor a messy compromise, but somewhere two feet above.  I hope there is a way to enjoy food without having to worry if I am eating too much.  I’m just not sure what this two feet above perspective on food really is.  Any suggestions?

remembering

One year ago from today my daddy died.  It's been hard for me to talk about him, and hard for me to share the memories I have of him.  So today, I want to share a story.
When I was a kid my dad would read to me every night before bed.  I looked forward to story time, and he read many books to me.  I remember when he read to me The Black Cauldron and he would call me Gurgi, the fluffy creature.  But that is not what this story is about.  This story takes place in the years before he read The Black Cauldron to me.
It began one night after he had read to me, and was reading to my sister in her room.  I was probably supposed to be sleeping, but I had to get my stuffed toy down from above the window.  I stood on my chair, but I couldn't quite reach it.  I grabbed my pillow, placed in on my chair and reached and reached, and did a little jump to knock it down, and me down.  I ended up on the floor.  It wasn't a far fall, and it wasn't all that painful, but as I made my way back to my bed I noticed that my foot was bleeding.  I started to cry.  I was crying to get the attention of my dad who was in the next room.  He heard me, but thought I was just crying to get attention (I was kinda) and so he let me go on crying for a while.  When I didn't stop he came to check on me.  He realised the cut was quite deep, so after cleaning off the blood, and giving me a band-aide he called my mother who was out curling, and asked her to bring home suture kit.  I fell asleep long before my mom got home.  When she woke me up at 1 am to give me stitches, she realised that she had forgotten the freezing...  So, I got a couple stitches in the middle of the night with no freezing.
I realise that is isn't primarily a story about my dad, so I am not sure why it is the one I chose to tell other than I was thinking about it the other day as I told a different story about my dad to a friend.  Sharing that story was one of the first times since my dad's passing that I felt comfortable as i relayed a memory of him.
Today I didn't write the story I told my friend, because it is located here: The Cavity