BP, Leftovers & Jesus: A Dialogue

I think I’ve mentioned my instigator friend, #17. He’s actually an old friend (don’t take that personally, #17) who claims to be a recent and avid EyeJunkie convert. I call him an instigator because he sometimes sends me links or questions or book recommendations to stir the Junkie pot a little, prompting me to express myself on various issues or ideas, and perhaps inspiring me to some essay eloquence. Right.

It happened this morning. Again.

Like many across our country (and indeed our planet), I’ve been watching news of the oil “spill” in the Gulf of Mexico over the past six weeks. The story is of particular interest to those, who like me, live in Mississippi and other Gulf states. But, the implications environmentally and economically are so much more far-reaching.  Anyone who is awake is certainly convinced of that. Right? When I heard of the proposed “top kill” option to stem the flow of oil into the Gulf, my first thought was, “This whole process is an exercise in experimentation with 210,000 gallons of oil gushing daily.” It’s a frightening concept to realize you are reaching the limit of your own capacity to redeem a situation.

Enter #17.

This morning he called my attention to an article from the New York Times about the affect the “spill” is having on Louisiana shrimpers and fishermen. The implications of this disaster on their way of life and livelihood are unmistakeable, including the  larger questions of whether shrimp from the Gulf will ever be safe to eat. The plot thickens on the impact of the explosion at Deepwater Horizon. #17 wondered aloud in cyberspace why the disaster is still being called a “spill” rather than a “crime scene.” Good question. But a crime against what? Against whom?  Then, of course, #17 took the probe one step further.

“WWJD?”

For the unindoctrinated, that means “What would Jesus do?” Yep. Once an instigator, always an instigator. The ensuing dialogue in pursuit of an answer to that question made me think. It made me sad. It made me wonder. It made me ask more questions. With #17′s permission, I thought I’d share it here with little editing…

Junkie: And what’s YOUR take on what Jesus would do?

#17: Maybe He would cry. Why don’t YOU lead me to water on this?

Junkie: I don’t know about leading to water, but random thoughts…

I do think God is grieved by it. I believe a few facts about God that color the situation.

I think God made this earth. I think He designed it to be a living and continual testament to Himself and His existence. I also think He made it to sustain itself in many ways, but also to need a caretaker. The first few chapters of the Bible indicate that God designated man to be that caretaker. I think God designated man as the culmination of His creation — therefore not equivalent to nature, but more important than nature. In many ways, He designed the “system” or nature to serve man. That’s not necessarily a popular opinion with environmental groups.

In those first few chapters of Genesis, there is the account of man in the garden of Eden. Some see it as figurative, some as a recount of history. To me, the concepts are the same regardless. In that story, it was God who killed the first animals to provide clothing for man after his “fall.” The environment was used to serve the needs of man.

So, there’s a fine line with this situation. I think it’s ok for man to explore, ok to tap and use the resources we have available on this planet. However, God entreated man to be the caretaker. So there is an inherent responsibility of stewardship. I think that’s where we fall short. I think that’s where greed takes over. I think that’s where we show our lack of restraint. That lack of restraint and balance is what so often leads us into disaster.

But, above all, I believe God is compassionate. He gave souls to men, not to plants or animals. In this situation, I think he still sees the people as more important than the damage. I’m also aware that the two aren’t easily separated.

What would Jesus do?
I don’t know. I think He would have men act with compassion. I think He would want us all to take responsibility for our own actions, to own them. I think He would want sincerity in motives and actions. I think He wants the extra mile, the giving of the shirt as well as the coat, the recognition of what is priceless. I think He wants this mess cleaned up.

I like the idea of the Gumbo parties. [Gumbo for the Gulf is the benefit brain child of Environment Michigan.] Go out and buy shrimp. Eat it and give. But, is a halt to all drilling the answer? I don’t know.

I know that for many counties in Mississippi and Louisiana, the best job opportunities for feeding families are found in offshore drilling (and ironically in fishing or aquaculture). With the limited educational opportunities and historic poverty, those jobs are essential in many ways. In Mississippi, forestry is one of the largest industries (if not the largest) — another target of the environmental lobby. The current crisis is in need of funds and so are the shrimpers and other fishermen. But what about long term? What economic development can be produced to replace the jobs lost with a halt to all drilling?

And, the reality is that most goods are delivered by freight across this country. A reduction in the amount of available oil (regardless of its source) means double or triple prices on basic needs. I can’t afford that again.

There are many positions here. And not many easy answers. For me, I think the best answer lies in balance and restraint. For regulations and limits to be real. For incentives for alternative fuel to be real and enticing. For disincentives to breeching the limits to be real and detrimental.

#17: I agree completely.

I appreciate the narrative about the scripture. I also see nature as something in service to man. So did the Romans. So did the American Indians. Have you read Wendell Berry? On Stewardship? [more instigation]

I also believe in moderation and compassion. I believe in restraint and delicacy. That’s why I re-read books, why I wear my clothes out, why I have ridden a bike for so long. Its why I took the bus in Cincinnati. Its why I took the train home in Mississippi. That’s why I buy $25 of gas at a time, why I eat leftovers and pack a lunch. Its why I put new lenses in old frames and why I’m careful about how often I wash clothes.

I also believe Jesus would be grieving. And so do many others at a distance from this crisis. We feel helpless.

Junkie: Everyone feels helpless. And, we ARE in many ways.

Presumably the best and brightest minds from the private and public sectors are applying solutions to this problem to no avail. That’s not an easy thing for man to accept. And, it’s not an easy thing to look in the mirror as a race or a people after having created such a far-reaching dilemma. It’s not easy to admit that we had no foresight, or at least inadequate foresight. It’s like the realization after Hiroshima — what have we done? What genie is now out of the bottle?

Bringing it back to the real people, I think what bothers me the most is the rush to embrace agendas. It’s human nature and politics, but it’s taking our eyes off the ball. Party lines, Obama bashing, big oil bashing. The rhetoric has a place, but it is in the back seat. I was disappointed most, I think, to see the immediate adversarial relationship established by the EPA representatives upon their arrival two weeks after the explosion. In reading the tenor of the press conferences since, it put BP in an immediate defensive position. Of course, they’re going to be the fall guy. They are going to be the culprit. That’s obvious. But, that was a mistake in crisis management. To establish advocacy and an environment of cooperation fosters the best ideas. It squelches the need for secrecy and hedging. I think that approach was politically motivated, and it offended me as a citizen of a state that is likely to be affected directly by this disaster for decades. And, to see a Congressman holding up a glass filled with dark liquid that could just as easily have been 3-day old coffee was just ridiculous posturing.

You know, I’m seeing articles where the concept of “risk management” and its viability are coming into question. The assumption is that BP (or any of the oil companies) may have imagined this scenario in some brainstorming session somewhere in the past, but it was likely not even addressed because the possibility was so remote. Now, the remotest possibility has created a situation where a hazmat suit is required to walk in the Louisiana marshes that feed the lowest elements on the food chain — for wildlife and humans. “Managing” risk is an exercise in choosing, in setting priorities. Unfortunately, the priorities provided by probability (and certainly by financial gain) are being shown NOT to match up with the potential consequences. The horror is that just as we can’t conceive of an appropriate solution to this problem we’ve caused, we also can’t conceive of the true impact. For all our smarts, our brains simply aren’t big enough to accurately predict that.

Dialogue is important. Sadly, it’s not always the product of this small world we live in. It’s not always the norm for friends living 17 states apart or issues entrenched an ocean apart. But, I think maybe that dialogue is our greatest hope for solutions.

From there OUR dialogue moved into less weightier topics and pleasantries, punctuated by something like…

Junkie: What were you thinking getting me started with both Jesus AND British Petroleum at the same time?

#17: A *smirk* I could read loud and clear across 17 states.

Moving

“The earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters.” (genesis 1:2)

“Though the earth was formless and void, God was busy. The universe was static, but His Spirit was not. He wasn’t waiting for administrative approval to take an active role in the grand, defining moment of history. He was in motion. Even in the darkness, God was making His presence known.”
~ Vernon M. Whaley, Called to Worship (2009)

You know how I love words, and I’m always curious about their origins. So… I looked up the Hebrew word used here, seeking more on the mysterious nature of this “moving” of God’s Spirit. It is transliterated rachaph, and the lexicon I read defined it as “to be moved, affected, specially–with the feeling of tender love, hence to cherish.”

Yes, that’s quite moving.

God, Who Searches

“and they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. then the Lord God called to the man and said to him, ‘where are you?’“ (psalm 3:8-9)

Isn’t this one of the saddest scenes in all of history? But, it seems to be an eternal picture of man’s relationship with God. Because of sin, whether it is pride, self-centeredness, self-sufficiency, misplaced priorities or old-fashioned disobedience, we continually seek to hide ourselves from God.

How sobering to think of that moment when Adam realized that God knew their fellowship had been broken, and that his hiding was utterly useless. It must have been a tremendous blow for him to hear the question, “where are you?” and to realize that he was stuck in the swamp of sin instead of walking in the garden in the cool of the day with his Creator. Yet, how like man to seek an inadequate refuge among the trees–the place where he made his choice clear, the place where he sought a substitute satisfaction for the hole only God can fill–as if that place of self-deception could somehow measure up to the selfless wisdom of the Almighty.

I can imagine what it was like in Eden before Adam and Eve sinned. They were one with one another and one with God. There was no conflitct there, no divided loyalties, no distractions. It is clear to me from the story of creation that God looked on them with purely adoring eyes. No labor was involved in love. Fellowship was without a price. After sin, His love required a labor, a sorrow, and fellowship had a hefty price tag. If God had not been God, He might have said, “forget it!” But, in that moment, when the object of his affection ran to hide, God put Calvary on his calendar for 33 A.D. Then, He set about finding His people. In Luke 15, Jesus spoke about the joy a shepherd has in reclaiming his lost sheep. Where once His joy was simply in our existence, now it comes to fruition in the act of finding, when our fellowship is restored.

I see in my life a lot of hiding from God, a fruitless tendency. This blog, like my on-and-off journal, although a wonderful outlet for sharing my thoughts and focusing my attention, offers the perfect amount of self-censorship required to give me the luxury of skirting some heart issues. Then, God reminds me that hiding is my nature. It’s what I do, as a human. And, though my time among the trees is never out of his ever-present vision, it must be my choice and conscious decision to be found.

You see, if I spend time with Him out of duty, then I am really only hiding. I am trusting in my religion for my fellowship with God. Jesus said in Luke 15:7, that “there is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents, than over 99 righteous persons who need no repentance.”

If I spend time with Him because other Christians I know do, then I am really only hiding. I am trusting in my status for my fellowship with God. Paul wrote in Colossians 3 that there is no distinction among believers, but “Christ is all and in all.”

If I spend time with Him to keep up appearances, then I am really only hiding. I am trusting in temporary and fleeting popularity for my fellowship with God. But, Jesus said in Matthew 23, “woe to you, scribes and pharisees, you hypocrites, for you clean the outside of the cup and of the dish, but inside they are full of robbery and self-indulgence.”

Every moment of my life, especially the time I choose to spend with God, involves a decision not to hide. He searches for me. He often whispers in my ear, “where are you?” But, only I can choose to be found. Only I can choose to respond to His question. Only I can abandon the futility of life among the trees. Only I can embrace His inevitable presence.

“Oh Lord, You have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up. You understand my thought from afar. Where can I go from your Spirit? Or, where can I flee from your presence? Even the darkness is not dark to you, and the night is as bright as the day.” (psalm 139:1-2, 7, 12)

5th Day of Thanksgiving: Haley Hears a Who

I’m realizing that the Who in Thanksgiving makes all the difference. I’ve been thinking through lists of things I’m thankful for, which I’m sure I’ll share as the days move toward Turkey Day.  I’ve been eager to cultivate a grateful heart for the little and big things in my life that produce joy, peace and blessing.  But, I have to admit that I’m finding it a little empty.  Yes, recognizing those people and things is rewarding, and the experiences with them are good to savor.  But, people and things come and go.  Thanksgiving really gains its power when it pushes me to recognize and praise the WHO responsible for my blessings large and small.  Like faith, thankfulness is at its most potent when it has an object.  

One of Little Drummer Boy’s favorite bedtime story books is his Rhyme Bible (which I highly recommend.)  It includes a story about how God fulfilled His promise to Abraham and gave him a son.  Our favorite part is the last page, where “Abraham jumped for joy, when he saw his baby boy.”  At this point, LDB always asks, “why did he lose his shoes?” The illustration literally depicts how Abraham must have felt when God’s gift truly knocked his socks (and shoes) off.  When I look back at the actual promise God made to Abraham years before his son was born, I’m reminded of His purpose in blessing Abraham.

“And I will make you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great; and so you shall be a blessing.” (genesis 12:2)

Blessed to be a blessing–that was God’s promise.  If adopting a life of gratitude is to have a true impact on me in the day to day realities, being thankful is just the seed.  To become a blessing is the fruition.  Knowing the Who who made it possible enables the cultivation in between.  With all blessings of peace, joy, grace, mercy and love–those most-sought-after and precious gifts–we can only give out of our own overflow.  And, my ability to bless others begins with a commitment to bless the Lord first.  So, who is this Who drawing my eyes upward in thanksgiving?  We know Him by His actions:

He pardons…  bringing the sweet restoration of forgiveness, the freedom of a clean slate in a world that takes names

He heals… applying the gentle balm of repair, the relief of wholeness in a world with open wounds

He redeems… repurchasing the squandered wealth of life, the hope of second chances in a world built on “all sales final”

He crowns… bestowing the undeserved protection of mercy, the birthright of belonging in a world of refugees

He satisfies… enabling the simple generosity of contentment, the joy of open hands in a world with a white knuckle grip

Bless the LORD, O my soul, And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the LORD, O my soul, And forget none of His benefits;
Who pardons all your iniquities, Who heals all your diseases;
Who redeems your life from the pit, Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion;
Who satisfies your years with good things, So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.
(psalm 103:1-5)

With all that is within me, indeed.  May I freely bless as He blesses?