Category: generosity (Page 3 of 4)

Hipsters, generosity, a movie spoiler, and the long road of faith

Warning: This post is the living room conversation that I know will never be, but wish it were. In my ideal world, we would sit in the living room while JJ popped popcorn, enjoy the show, and then discuss afterward. But my sense of reality seems to be growing in my old age, so we’ll settle for me giving some thoughts, you going an watching the movie, and then returning here to agree/disagree/share.

JJ came home the other night with a movie he “thought we’d both enjoy.” It included Ben Stiller, was called While You’re Young and had a sub-plot centered on getting older and having kids. What’s not to love?!

At :45 into the movie, we both hated it. It was slow, we got annoyed with characters, and our expectations were way off. This was not “Meet the Parents” Stiller. This was artsy Stiller (who, btw, shows the depth of his talent) but I was tired and unprepared for the mental work of a thinksy film. Also, there’s an entire scene full of puking and I hate vomit.

By the end, the film redeemed itself. The climax, truth-telling scene pushed me to the back of my seat in awe.

The storyline centered on a middle aged, childless couple who become friends with a young hipster couple in the wake of their best friendship being siderailed by a baby. The hipsters introduce them to other ways of living (“They make everything!” Stiller tries to explain to his SAHD friend) and become saturated with the idea of generosity.

The hipster dude is a budding filmmaker who seeks Stiller’s advice in making a documentary, and – in the spirit of generosity – Stiller helps him. He even offers resources. Along the way, Stiller’s father-in-law, a world renowned documentarian, also gets on board.

Then things get weird. (Enter: puking scene). Distrust for the hipster couple starts to grow. All of a sudden, we’re faced with the fact that not everything we know to be true about the hipster couple is, indeed, true. In fact, there are manipulations to the truth. When Stiller confronts the young filmmaker, he writes it off, appealing to the relativity of truth.

It turns out, the young hipster couple did not live a life of generosity because they believed in world made better by being generous. Generosity appealed to them because of the ways in which it made their life easier. They didn’t do the hard work of life and become generous with its fruits – they simply expected others to do so.

We see this in their approach to friendship. While they invested time into the Stiller couple, they did not do the hard work of honesty, vulnerability and truth-telling. They told the couple what the couple wanted to hear. They weren’t honest with their own beginnings and, in fact, entered into the relationship under false pretenses. But the older couple did do the work. They wrestled. They lost out on other friendships. They were vulnerable with the hipsters in sacred ways.

At the end of the movie, the hipster makes it big with his film. He edited the content in less than 24 hours and held a party/screening. Meanwhile, Stiller returns to sifting through his precious 6 hours of film, tasked with reducing it and maintaining the integrity of the story he wants to tell.

As a person who teeters between the two generations portrayed in the movie, I resonated with all characters at times and became struck with the honesty the movie laid out in front of us. (It was one of those movies that you think “ok, now I can go to bed” when it’s over, and then at 3am you wake up parsing through the subplots. You don’t do that? Oh, never mind. I don’t either.)

I personally spent the last few years intentionally trying to grow in the spirit of generosity. It resonates well with me. Truth-telling – another buzzword of the day – means something in my life. They are grounded in my understanding of God as the source of generosity and in our duty to reveal his nature.

This morning I read (from The Message translation) Matthew 7:13-14:

“Don’t look for shortcuts to God. The market is flooded with surefire, easygoing formulas for a successful life that can be practiced in your spare time. Don’t fall for that stuff, even though crowds of people do. The way to life—to God!—is vigorous and requires total attention.”

I couldn’t help but think of this young hipster couple and their approach to life. How simple it is to wave a flag of ideas like generosity and love and friendship without doing the hard work of weaving them into the fabric of our lives? This young couple wanted the world to live them out so that their own lives could be easier, not for the world to be better. In fact, I wonder if they believed that if their lives were easier than the world would be better. (Ironic, said by the woman who just whined and complained about school forms being an utter inconvenience, eh?)

Despite my highly aware eating habits, I’m not a hipster. I’m not cool. But I was born into an era of convenience – foods, entertainment, and lifestyles. The generation behind me has experienced it at a heightened level. With a change in pace comes effects on our life that I don’t believe have ever been calculated, and I believe they will hold great bearing on the way in which we practice our faith. I can identify and even sympathize with the challenges of accepting a faith that says it requires total attention and a lifetime of vigorous work. Who wants that? We want to do what we love and retire at 40. Following Jesus when it’s hard does not appeal. Loving people who don’t love us has little appeal when they’re mean. “Serving” becomes a noble concept, especially when we’re the ones served, but as another teacher once said, “We love the idea of being a servant until someone starts treating us like one.” Ouch.

At first I felt this movie played with the young generation’s approach and handling of the concept of truth. But for myself, it shed light into our human (not just youthful) propensity to gravitate toward what is easy over what is good. The bootstrap generations ahead of us might be shouting Amen behind me, but I’m not talking about the easy way of working hard for yourself and leaving the rest of the world to fend for itself.

Truly, this doesn’t come down to how many hours you spend at an office (or not) or if you expect people to make your life easy (or not). Life is much more than that. I believe that’s the idea behind Generosity, and more so, the Gospel. We give to the world not in relation with what we have but because we want the world to have it. Not because it’s owed to us.

Wheels

When my cousin Tim enjoyed his own roaring 20s, living the DINK* life, he bought a brand new black Camaro. A sensible purchase? Probably not. But at what other time, other than late into retirement, can one enjoy such treats? Somehow Tim knew to grasp onto the momentary lack of full responsibility.

The Camaro. That is not Tim in the background with the surfboard, no matter what he might say. Photo courtesy CC - Wikipedia

The Camaro. That is not Tim in the background with the surfboard, no matter what he might say. Photo courtesy CC – Wikipedia

My 16-year-old self took full advantage of his situation. He made the drive home one Saturday in May to drop off the newly washed and waxed set of wheels. He parked in the barn and showed me how to work the 6-disc changer (which resided in the trunk. Hellloooo again, 1990s!) which I later forgot and listened to Collective Soul on repeat. Then he gave me the mandatory and expected Lecture. The car goes fast, he told me. Be careful. Then he said something unexpected: At the end of the day, it’s just a hunk of metal.

You are more important than a car.

Of course, this goes without saying within the context of being careful and avoiding accidents. Yet hidden underneath, and now that I’m a tad older and wiser myself, I see the beauty in wanting good things for the people we care about.

I can’t imagine the trust he put into my 16-year-old self, let alone my 17-year-old date, whom he never met. His actions told me that believed in the goodness of people and the worthiness of his little cousin, enough to hand over the keys.

This weekend a friend found herself in unfortunate circumstances without a car. We were laying low so we drove JJ’s vehicle down so she could get to an engagement. Even when you fully trust someone, in the back of your mind you always do the “what would happen if” dance, and we were no different. Yet like my cousin, I believed a person to be more valuable. His words echoed in my ears: At the end of the day, it’s just a hunk of metal.

I’m not sure I would’ve had the guts to follow through had the same trust been placed in me. It would be easy to come up with a reason why we couldn’t extend the offer. Family or not, I want to live like I believe that people are always most important. But it’s hard to live your values.

One of the only things that speaks louder than fear is love, and I was fortunate to be loved with a set of keys early in life, which made it possible for me to love in the same way.

 

*Dual Income, No Kids

Bottomless Pit

I love to eat. I enjoy healthy food and junk food, salads and McNuggets (though I certainly have tried to curb the latter). I even accepted Indian food into my life again earlier this summer after avoiding it for 8 years following my trip there. (Turns out it I didn’t dislike the food – it was the aroma of dog and feces which invaded my experience that turned me off.) I snack frequently and look forward to social interactions because they likely include food.

Should I be so surprised that my kids also enjoy it? I’m thrilled about this. So far, they eat with a broad palate. We make lunches of sliced bell peppers, cucumbers and hummus or soups. A bean and rice bowl is met by willing mouths. And, like their parents, my kids enjoy dessert. I try very hard to approach all food – even those made of dairy or including gluten, which we avoid – as gifts so we don’t have “bad food” and “good food”. It’s all good. Some of it makes us feel crummy later – specifically H boy and mama.

This evening Lady C tried to convince me that we didn’t eat lunch. Which is completely false because today was McCommunion. Then we went to a picnic with church family for dinner. I reviewed with her our gluttonous menu plan, reiterating we ate 3 full meals plus snacks and daddy generously gave her one of Grandma’s Monster Cookies before bed. Yet the girl insisted that we missed a meal. (Come on. As if her Mama could ever do that.)

As I repeated our 3-meal-2-snack life, I couldn’t help but remember the many kids (and adults!) in places near and far who ate a quarter of such food. I’m guessing that research could provide evidence that we ate more today than most people in the rest of the world. (I tried a basic google search to find a statistic which would catch the eye of you numbers-driven people. However, I got dizzy and a little depressed after my first search result from the World Hunger Education Service).

We walk a fine line with our kids when it comes to waste and abundance. We want them to know they will never be in need – their family will take care of them. That’s not a worry for them to take on themselves. However, we also want to instill in them a sense of responsibility that comes with our privileged place in society.

“Starving kids in China” didn’t really work much for our generation – I wanted to send my mom’s roast over as an offering of my concern – but I don’t want my kids to leave the house thinking that food is a limitless supply. In our circumstance, yes, we can always buy more. But not everyone can. And when we do that – when we toss it in our garbage instead of our mouths, we are removing it from the shelves and changing the economics involved to get needed resources to the people who need them most.

In general, if a full meal is presented yet not consumed by one of our children, it waits on the table for snack time as a second chance and no snack will be served until most (a word defined only by mom and dad) is eaten. I simply can’t bear to throw away one bowl of food only to refill it immediately with another.  Is it so bad to allow my children to feel hunger once in a while? They’re much easier to deal with when well fed, and I’m not advocating a 40-day fast in any sense, but is our easy access to nutritious food standing in the way of naturally learning the virtue of self-control and perhaps even generosity? Just feed one

The Report said that nearly a third of the world population is living on a diet equivalent to $1.25 each day. Now that Wendy’s jacked up their Value Menu, you can’t even get a single sandwich for that, let alone 3 squares and 2 snacks. And we’re not talking about produce. That budget will get you a bag of organic apples for the entire week and nothing else. Can you imagine your week’s groceries consisting of a bag of apples for each person?

A friend of mine pastors a church that spends the end of the Lenten season in a Week of Solidarity to gain an understanding of life for the poor around the world. They use the season of fasting to eat only what $1.25 will purchase and spend time praying for those in need and giving their remaining grocery and food budget to organizations devoted to feeding the hungry. After this evening’s brief discussion, I’m wondering how I might differentiate that for the children so they can begin to understand that the joy of food doesn’t come just in cookie form.

How do we begin to make a lifestyle of acknowledging that our satiation isn’t a reality for all people without heaping guilt upon them every time we sit at the table? I feel a healthy tension is required, one that doesn’t result in worried souls but rather compassionate and aware little humans. I want them to keep their healthy appreciation of food and eat so their little bodies grow strong. It’s not the food that is the enemy: it’s our casual indifference to the waste of it.

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