Monthly Archives: December 2010

A Throwaway Culture

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The 20th century was characterized as one of over-consumption, particularly in the United States.

For instance, I remember when disposable diapers came into being. Although Pampers were on the market in the early 1960’s, Nate and I didn’t try them until 1977, when we had three little ones. We used disposables as a luxury when taking our babies to the church nursery or friends’ homes. Cloth diapers had to be rinsed in the toilet, then packed in plastic and taken home for washing.

These days disposable diapers are big business, and very few parents use cloth. On the plus-side, they’re sterile enough for the most sensitive bottom, and of course they eliminate the need to stand over a toilet bowl. On the down side, disposables have become difficult to dispose of, filling landfills and producing strange gasses as they decompose.

But diapers aren’t the only thing we throw away these days. Hospitals are also famous for their volume of waste. For example, delivery room drapes used to be made of cotton, washed and returned to the maternity floor in neat stacks looking much like any homemaker’s laundry. In the 1980’s disposable drapes arrived, and waste volume grew. The list of hospital disposables is lengthy, but they aren’t the only culprits.

Statistics prove we throw away nearly half of the edibles available to us, too, and the packaging they come in keeps our garbage trucks rolling. Recycling has helped as we’ve slowly learned how to do it, although in Michigan where we live, the programs are still “haul-your-own.”

What does God think of waste and recycling? He might say, “I gave you a beautiful world to enjoy, chuck full of riches. Take care of it with excellence.”

In the Garden of Eden, he gave Adam and Eve dominion over everything he’d created, which didn’t mean they could neglect or ruin it but should care for it with wisdom. I wonder if Adam and Eve had to guard how they viewed the earth and its animals. Being as involved as they were, naming them, tending the gardens, living off the fruit of the land, did they ever ascribe higher status to the creation than God had intended? All of it must have been a wonder to them.

Today it’s not difficult to get off track. In our desire to conserve natural resources, we’re liable to elevate the elements to idol status. God created everything, but God is not in everything. His influence can be seen in all parts of the natural world, but nature is not to be worshipped. Once in a while the line between appreciation and reverence becomes blurred.

A good question is, “How much thought and time do I spend on caring for the earth, compared to thought and time spent with the Lord?”

I’ve decided not to worry about the mountain of diapers in our trash can. We’re just working to care for five little bottoms, and all of them are part of God’s creation.

“The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it. The world and all its people belong to him.” (Psalm 24:1)

Intravenous Assistance

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Recently I drove to Chicago to visit an infusion center, a place where cancer patients receive IV chemotherapy and other drugs. As I walked past the word “oncology” on the door, my heart melted with gratitude that I didn’t have cancer.

Following the nurse through a maze of hallways, I was ushered to a comfortable lazy-boy next to a clean floor-to-ceiling window. Immediately outside the glass was a wooden park bench, a fountain shut down for the winter and a circular brick walkway. All of it was covered with 6” of snow.

On my other side was a row of recliners, each with an occupant. Behind us was a second row, their backs facing our backs, and each person had their own TV on a swing-arm from the wall in front of them. I had one, too.

While I was waiting for my nurse to “be right back,” I studied the room. There were twenty-plus medical people, each flitting back and forth from their patients to a massive circular desk like children in a game of hide and seek, racing back to home base. Among these doctors, nurses and techs, there were multiple conversations going on, most dominated by a computer screen.

 

And then there was the reason for the whole set-up, the people occupying the lazy-boys. My area could have been a wig shop for the variety of hair on people’s heads. Some were elegant, others not so pretty, but all made sense in this situation. I thought of Nate with his full head of blond hair and his decision not to accept the chemo his doctors had offered. Both of us knew maximum-strength chemotherapy would have doubled the misery of his last weeks.

As my nurse returned with her IV kit and a pile of pamphlets, I glanced at my next-door-neighbor, a woman looking to be in her eighties. Maybe she wasn’t that old, because cancer does terrible things to the appearance, but she’d left her teeth at home and had dressed in several layers of sweaters. My heart went out to her. What was her story? She clutched a box of tissues, mopping her mouth but keeping her eyes squeezed closed as if in pain. Did she have people loving her, looking out for her best interests? What was her prognosis?

My young nurse bubbled with conversation, a sweet smile on her face continually. She was a pro at starting my IV, and I was thankful for the drug that would prevent bone loss and osteoporosis. The clear liquid was done infusing before I’d finished reading the literature.

What does my future hold? Maybe I’ll be in a chemo chair before life finishes. This morning I learned of a friend’s death from cancer. She’d refused treatment for one reason: she was ready to meet Jesus. Whether a person chooses chemo or not is a complicated decision. But whether or not a person is at peace when death is near, is usually based on only one thing: knowing Jesus personally.

Without that assurance, contentment changes into uncertainty and fear.

“The day of death [is] better than the day of birth.” (Ecclesiastes 7:1b)

Fan Club

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Nate was a true-blue fan of Elvis Presley. Although he wasn’t musically knowledgeable, he never met an Elvis tune he didn’t love. He owned cassettes and CDs by several other recording artists, but ten-to-one they were of Elvis.

Nate loved to talk about this favorite songster, laughing at his extravagant ways and forever attracted to his down-home, country-boy charm. He watched every Presley documentary, and our home library grew top-heavy with Elvis titles.

But Nate was tone deaf, unable to carry a tune and embarrassed by his own singing. He often wondered if he was fully appreciating his Elvis music and one day said, “Does Mr. Presley have a good singing voice?”

I acknowledged he did, but to a true fan, such a simplistic answer was lackluster, and Nate wanted more. So I said, “I’ve heard he could sing in four octaves without straining his voice.”

“Is that good?” he said.

“Real good,” I said, which seemed to make him happy.

Over the years Nate amassed an elaborate collection of Elvis memorabilia, all gifted by others who knew he was a fan: posters, mugs, key chains, license plates, photos, t-shirts, postcards figurines and a copy of his driver’s license. The stand-out gift was an Elvis telephone. When a call came in, he sang “Jailhouse Rock” while gyrating his hips.

I was never the Elvis fan Nate was but could tolerate certain recordings, unlike some family members who had zero tolerance, like his mother-in-law. Nate got along with Mom exceptionally well, unless the subject of Elvis came up.

“What do you see in that guy anyway?” she’d say.

“Greatest recording artist of all time,” he’d say, then add, “and a Christian, too.”

Mom had her doubts.

All of us have life-heroes, people we admire and even idolize, but hero worship is always risky. It’s a set-up for certain disappointment. Although Elvis may not have enjoyed living on such a lofty pedestal, his fans kept him there anyway.

Nate and Mom had fan clubs, too, people who admired them and as a result, put them on pedestals or even idolized them. Many were watching their lives, following their examples. The truth is, like it or not, all of us are being watched by somebody.

It might even be true that we all have life-moments on pedestals, but when that happens, God usually doesn’t wait too long to nudge us off, knowing it’s neither a happy nor healthy place to be. In his view, there’s only one pedestal-worthy person, and that’s Jesus. He stands alone as fully qualified to be an unflawed hero. And that’s the reason we ought to be watching him carefully, admiring his ways, modeling our behavior after his.

The difficulty is with his invisibility. Elvis was easy to see; his face and voice were everywhere. Our task in watching Jesus takes more want-to, more discipline, but there is no greater goal than following his example.

And as we’re working at that, it’s reassuring to know we’ll never be disappointed by his falling off his pedestal. That’s even better than owning a whole wall of gold records.

As to Elvis’ Christianity? Both Mom and Nate know the truth now.

“We [endure] by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion.” (Hebrews 12:2)