The Corners of our Eyes
“All the toil of man is for his mouth, yet his appetite is not satisfied. For what advantage has the wise man over the fool? And what does the poor man have who knows how to conduct himself before the living? Better is the sight of the eyes than the wandering of the appetite: this also is vanity and a striving after wind.” Ecclesiastes 6:7-9 (esv)
I don’t like to shop. I just go ahead and drop before I shop so I don’t have to go. Every day is black Friday for me –lots of sales I don’t care about and don’t want to be within a hundred miles of. Conjure up a mental image of me shaking my cane at the world. “Ya’ Dang kids,” he shouts. But I am not really glum; I just don’t like shopping at stores. (Note: The Rabbit Room store is on-line and stocked with great gifting items. Buy, Buy, Love. In that order.)
I love to shop from the convenience of my domestic paradise. I’d rather be mauled than go to the mall –because that’s what going to the mall feels like to me. But this is very unpatriotic. After all, our economic success is based on how much people are willing to spend. Therefore –newsflash– advertising is basic in our culture. We are overwhelmed with appeals to have what others have, to be stylish and look unique and special, just like this or that celebrity.
It’s the old adage again: “Does a fish know it’s wet?” We don’t even realize to what extent our hearts have been affected by this prevailing culture of spending and spending more. We are basically being programmed for envy. The political arguments are often made between those who benefit from success and selfishness and those benefiting from the institutionalization of envy. It’s an ugly scene. And we can barely see it for all the billboards blocking our view.
This is another good reason to take the advice of C.S. Lewis about reading old books and not just ones from our own century. Because it helps us see our blind spots. And our blind spots are behind cash registers and whatever Star ‘o the Month is wearing.
So we have wisdom from Ecclesiastes. Better is the sight of the eyes than the roaming of the appetite. Look in front of you, not to the left, or right (where all your neighbor’s stuff is). This goes down deep, to the level of idolatry. If we are unhappy with our Father’s provision, and we long to have what he has provided for another man, it is a short step to wanting another Father. Another god. This is a treacherous road, but it is the highway of our culture, the route of our trade.
Gifts are grand; I love the tradition of giving and receiving we have in this season. But thankfulness for God’s provision (including future grace) is the most fundamental mark of the Christian. Likewise coveting essentially identifies the unbeliever –he rejects the provision of God. The gospel is about the provision of God for our deepest need. The Christian life is a continual leaning on that provision and loving the Father who is its loving and gracious source. Why do we covet when we have all we could ever need? Why are we thirsty when living water is in us? Flesh wars with spirit and Advent is a central front in the conflict. Here the principle combatants are clearly identified on the field and the battle is joined. Why does the periphery call to us with such potency?
The corners of our eyes are a paradise of lies. The feast is before us.
We have a Father. He is good.
A.S. Peterson has crafted a work of compelling historical fiction which begs the question, “Can this really be a debut novel?” With dogged fidelity, Peterson captures the spirit, manners, and social conditions present during the American Revolutionary War. We meet colorful, credible characters who navigate the high seas of life and love, dependence and independence, war and peace, truth and consequence, and despite forays into dark places, The Fiddler’s Gun is beautiful, lyrical, and redemptive.
Walt Wangerin, Jr. strikes again.
Janner Igiby lives in Glipwood, a nothing little village in the land of Skree, on the edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness. Manhood is on the horizon, but Janner finds it hard to feel much hope for the future. Skree is ruled by foreign oppressors, snake men called the Fangs of Dang, servants of a shadowy emperor named Gnag the Nameless. The Skreeans are weak and weaponless. They’re even tool-less. Any Skreean who needs to use a hoe has to borrow one from the Fangs (and fill out the requisite paperwork). And from time to time, the Black Carriage arrives in Glipwood to carry young Skreeans toward an unknown fate across the Dark Sea.
I am not a fan of Civil War literature; in fact, I have always thought of it as one of those weird sub-genres for obsessive types. They’re almost like Trekkies with their re-enactments and maniacal devotion to detail. It’s just not my thing (although I’m secretly jealous that they get to dress up and shoot cannons).
A Randall Goodgame song is like a great independent movie. Characters deliver lines like they were lifted from a break room, a truck stop, or a downtown diner. Seemingly incongruent scenes are juxtaposed and plot isn’t obvious; in fact, narrative–a good story–is often more evident than linear plot lines. An indie movie, like a Randall Goodgame song, seems to tell itself. Rather than being rudely yanked by a chain through a sequence of contrived events, with a Randall Goodgame song, I have the sense that I’m being allowed a willing, but vicarious sneak peak into the real lives of his real characters.
Sara Groves irritates me just a little bit. With each album she makes, she moves from strength to strength and is always raising the bar with the quality, depth, and lyrical ambition of her work. And as a fellow artist, that’s just a little irritating since it means the rest of us are going to have to work harder if we hope to keep up.
I am outside on my front porch. The yellowed leaves are methodically falling from the black walnut in the yard, my breath is chalky visible in the recent cold snap, and lately I have been exploring the unpleasant nuances of the dark night of a soul - my own, to be exact. It is a strange passion we live out on this over-glorified orb of rock hurtling through space at some rate that I’m sure would astound me were I to know what it was. It is an odd series of days, I am realizing, when you question your own faith more than you question your own doubt. And, indeed, it is these nagging questions which have prompted me to share my thoughts on Andrew Peterson’s 2003 album, Love and Thunder.
11-year old Reuben Land, a character in the 2001 book Peace Like a River, provides narration that is clear-eyed and insightful, yet retains the magic, wonder, and innocence of youth. I found it easy to entrust my imagination to the author’s clever method of telling the story through the sensibilities of a pre-teen boy. An author with lesser skill would have either made the boy too smart-alecky for his own good or impossibly cute.
I just finished a book that upon closing it, I felt like it finished me in a sense. A quiet meditative book that reached down and stirred the deep waters in me. It’s Marilynne Robinson’s 2005 Pulitzer prize winner Gilead, given to me by my friend Andrew Peterson.
Eric Peters’s body of work addresses a diverse range of topics, but hope is a recurring theme that gently percolates in the midst of it all. And yet, somewhere between the 2001 masterpiece Land of the Living, and Scarce, the flavor of hope that Peters’s work emits has evolved closer to a tone that is more resolute than what came before. And though the complexion of hope has a broad range, the lyrics from Scarce–while intermittently contrite and timorous as in previous efforts, are now strengthened and bolstered by roots that have grown deeper, radiating an underlying grit and security.
Having read The Great Divorce many times over the years, I’ve found this classic from the great C.S. Lewis to be full of startling clarity and depth on the differences between Heaven and Hell. The only thing both have in common is that both begin in the human will; we can either let Heaven enter us and rule in us to blossom into love and goodness, or allow Hell to infect and reign in our hearts by the daily refusal to submit to Heaven.
Even if you haven’t heard Room to Breathe, its still likely you’ve heard Andy Gullahorn. He’s what I’d call a heavy lifter by trade. He writes lyrics, plays guitar, arranges vocals and adds production help to the work of artists like Jill Phillips and Andrew Peterson.
Allow me to preface this by telling you that I am a great despiser of gushing reviews. I’d much rather write (or read) a scathing dismemberment of the latest Brett Ratner film or Terry Goodkind book than suffer through four hundred words of overblown hyperbole about even the best of things. But when asked to write some thoughts on Frederick Buechner’s Godric, no amount of distaste for high praise was able to intervene. I hope you’ll take what I say with the understanding that I do not say it readily or lightly.
This is all so true. I saw a video on something like this from Advent Conspiracy (www.adventconspiracy.com). Why does our economy have to depend on our compulsions and unhappiness? There has to be a better way. Makes me long for the kingdom all the more. I try to follow this advice (it’s difficult): want what you have, and you’ll have what you want.
Three cheers for Advent Conspiracy. I’m part of one of those first four churches. It has really improved the mood and spirit of Christmas for me and my family the last two years. It’s even spread to my extended family now.
Buy less. Give more. Defy the empire.
See also, http://rethinkingchristmas.com
I think there must also be flip side of that coin where you learn to be appreciative that God has chosen to bless you differently than He blesses others. It’s nothing I’ve ever talked about, but have really struggled with it. My husband and I laid out a plan when we were dating and have largely stuck to the plan. We are starting to reap the benefits of it. His business is growing well and, financially, we’re doing better than we could’ve ever hoped for. As I said, it took a lot of planning, a lot of discipline to stick to the plan, etc. Still, I feel like the road should’ve been harder to get us here. I feel like we’re getting what we don’t deserve. It’s especially difficult when our family is struggling and we think of how frivolous the two of us can often be. I try to make myself feel better by reminding myself of how and why we got here and what we had to give up to be here. Anyway…I don’t think I’m making myself entirely clear. Your post just reminded me of how I often look from the corners of my eyes and feel guilty for what I have, which then makes me feel like I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth. And I’m convinced that I was born to make mountains out of mole hills and create inner turmoil where there should be none. I should’ve been emo.
Stacy
I am becoming one of those people that the Season depresses. Not for the usual reasons but because I see so many who don’t have what I have and I don’t give like I should give. I am trying my best to work up the courage to go see an old friend that I haven’t seen in a few years tomorrow. He lost his only daughter, 19, in a car wreck about two months ago. I can’t imagine what he and his wife must be going through this week and I’ve got five pounds to lose. I so want Jesus to come get us so I don’t have to deal with me anymore.
S.D.
Great picture! Thanks for the post my brother. Its been more hectic this year in the Heringer home, nothing dramatic, but just seems more rushed than in years past and not so much the shopping as just all the other activity that the season brings.
Brad/Nathan,
http://www.adventconspiracy.org/ - cool site dudes. Thanks for bringing that into the discussion. There are a lot of numbers flying around the media these days, but the two in the video are compelling and it would be great for this to go viral.
Stacy/Mike,
Therein lies the tension of the Scriptures. All we have, He’s given us. So, we have to hold it all with an open hand. If you live in America, you are rich even if you are homeless because even the homeless have access to clean drinking water, food of some kind and healthcare (contrary to what politicians may tell us). Outside our borders in developing countries that is not the case.
Our constant question is how do we best steward our resources for the Kingdom? This is connected with Ron’s most recent post. Our purpose is to glorify God in all we do and that includes how we use our wealth. Its not that we can’t enjoy it as our Father gives us good things (Matthew 7:11ff). The question is are we running after these things or content He will provide them while we run after treasure that doesn’t require a money-back guarantee or service plan of any kind (Matthew 6).
And Mike, I prayed for you just now, that you’d be a dispenser of grace to your friend and his family. I too can’t imagine what level of pain and hurt these folks are going through. Thanks for being there for them, I know God will bless you.
Merry Christmas and Maranatha!
Mike,
It’s been my experience when trying to comfort a friend going through the unfathomable that the best (and sometimes only) thing to say is, “I really have no idea what to say. Please ask for whatever you need.” I have a friend who experienced the unthinkable twice and I just came right out and asked her what she wanted. Some people don’t like to talk about what’s going on. Some do. Some people want to be left alone. Some want friends to comfort them. I don’t think our friends expect us to have all the answers or even to be their pillars of strength. They just want to know what we *would* do if we *could.*
Tony,
I completely agree that the only way to be happy with what we’ve got is to know that we’re using however much or little to glorify God and take rest in His promise to supply all our needs. As you said, even the poor and homeless in America are richly blessed compared to the way many people of this world live.
Stacy