One of my favorite things about being the youngest in a group is hearing about “kids these days.” I tend to enjoy a good social science experiment so I don’t write it off to crotchety old women, but rather compare their observations to my experience.
A recent complaint centered around foul language and its frequent use in society. The women in my group felt most sensitive about the use of the Lord’s name and the frequency in which they heard it used as an expression of frustration or even disbelief. I have to agree that our casual approach in our culture has crept into language. Just last night KLM told me an outrageous story about a man wearing a shirt (in public, with his 8-year-old son in tow) that dropped the F*bomb in an ignorant fashion.
So I ponder: why the increased use? How do many younger generations become insensitive to words that used to make others blush? My hypothesis centers around the large amount of noise in our society, which leads to individuals simply not being heard.
As the mother of 2 kids who have impaired hearing, I know the frustration that comes from being ignored, intentional and otherwise (they are toddlers, so selective hearing is also the cause). More than once I’ve stomped my feet when my words fly past them unnoticed. My family resource people tell me that often background noise causes part of this; we need to make sure the TV is off and limit other sources of interference. This works fine at home, but we don’t always have control of those variables in the real world.
I wonder if individuals who use offensive words are verbally stomping their feet, kicking and screaming. Foul language meets a need: to add emphasis. People are trying to show that they mean it. When someone says “Jesus, that was fun!” what they mean is “We had a really, really good time.” Their feelings lack language to express the depth. And because they feel something strongly, they want it heard. “We had a nice time” gets glossed over in our culture because we rarely stop to really explore what another person thinks or feels. We care too little if someone had a good time. But they feel it and they want to share about it and a popular tool is to use words that aren’t fair representations of their emotions, but it’s familiar and easily available.
I don’t think it’s fair to ask others not to use language that others finds offensive without putting in the hard work of hearing what they have to say. Perhaps flagrant words appear frequently because they become habit; but perhaps they became habit because the person was habitually ignored.
Like most societal trends, instead of pointing out the ways in which someone lives opposite our standards and sticking a label of blame upon them, we could benefit – dare I suggest even rectify? – by asking what put them in that position in the first place. Yes, perhaps it’s a choice or preference. Or it could be their reaction to something much deeper, much more systemic. Perhaps the energy we put forth in judgment could be better used toward understanding.
Year: 2012 (Page 11 of 51)
After what LBW calls a good “pin binging” (weeks of nothing and then all of a sudden I can’t stop), I became fully aware of the ways in which this site makes my life difficult.
Christmas. Not only am I aware of the gifts I must give people in my life, but now I must make them all by hand. With printable tags. Wrapped in burlap. Do you know what Pinterest is doing to the price of burlap?
Printables. Apparently I’m no longer allowed to label with dry erase marker or the old tape-on-with-paper method? I must instead find a cute tag, print it with high-quality resolution colored ink and cut along the dotted lines? Most recent fail: LUNCH NOTE printables. Seriously does the kid hate bad fonts as much as I do? And if so, why are printables using TNR? I resist these out of principle. If you’re going to write a note to your kid, write a note. Not a mad lib.
Food. We’re making it harder than it needs to be, people. You’re making us all look bad when it’s not enough just to celebrate the simple act of making cookies. It seems making them edible isn’t enough (even with the added layer: gluten-free, refined-sugar free, some other form of reducing guilt). Apparently now I have to stamp them to make them pretty? I think the cookies sitting on the plate make them pretty enough.
Upcycling. I love the concept. In theory. The problem is that I never have the supplies on hand. Projects requiring old tshirts and the like? If they’re able to be “upcycled” it means that they lack 3 square inches without stains. Especially the furniture upcycles. I simply don’t have old pallets or bookshelves sitting around in my backyard. To upcycle will actually cost me money. Thus defeating the purpose.
Birthday parties. We were fortunate to have one for Baby C this year. Her first. We ended up with cake, plates and people showed up. Total win in my book. But apparently I missed the mark. I didn’t have a build-your-own station, nor was anything celebratory hanging from the chandelier. (I did however blow up 20 balloons. I think they liked them better than the pom-pom letters, right?) And favors? Pshhh. I THREW A PARTY. YOU ATE CAKE. I’LL BE CLEANING FOR 3 DAYS AFTER YOU LEAVE. (*Thanks, Jen Hatmaker, for blowing the lid off that party foul).
A quick reading-comprehension test:
The people of Judah are seized by Babylon and marched out of their home country. Once situated in the new land, the king does a once-over of the strapping young lads, chooses the strongest and best looking and takes them to the palace. In 3 years, he says, we’re going to see what you’re made of.
So 4 of the Israelite men are given new names and sat before a buffet each day, but it’s not Kosher. So Daniel says, “no way, Jose” (even though the guy’s name was Ashpenaz). Ash worries about his own head and what might become of him when his team underperforms because they lack strength. So they do a trial run for 10 days. At the end of the extended week, Daniel and his friends looked better than those taking from the Kings table.
Clearly, the moral of the story is:
A) God wants us to be vegetarians
B) God did a miracle by strengthening Daniel & his men while they meat-fasted
C) God wanted to reiterate why Kosher rules existed
D) God revealed a constant truth about his Kingdom
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At different points in my life, I would answer this quiz with each of the responses. However, my leanings more consistently have been an attitude of B, that “oh my goodness, look what God did to protect them!” I’ve maintained a posture of awe toward the event. But with a year of my eating habits under the microscope, my eyes have been opened to a new view.
Watch any toddler consume a meal and our nature is revealed: eat what you like, first, so when you get full (or you really don’t like the other dish), you can simply quit before you finish. And snack later, of course. What we need and what we like typically involve two different food groups. We fill up on one at the sake of the other.
In this culture, meat didn’t happen for 3 square meals a day. I remember translating something in Hebrew 3 class and the prof was getting us to understand the context – he said, “And what time of the year was it? Meat-eatin’ time!” A carnivorous meal typically indicated a feast of some sort. Like all great parties, you get out good stuff. (See? Meat’s not evil.)
The trouble with our lives – and what this story in Daniel reveals – is that we tend to think everything is an occasion to feast. I know because I am Queen of the Justification Strategy. Especially when it involves food. Like a cream cheese dip.
While no harm lies in honoring the small moments of life that bring us great joy, danger lurks when we elevate the significance. We begin to seek the joy instead of the gift. We become little blessing-mongrels, wondering when the next best thing might happen to us, ready to raise our glass.
Nothing is wrong with raising our glass. Until it doesn’t mean anything anymore.
As much as I do think God has a preference toward veggies, this meatless event seems to pull back the covers on a belief that more is… more. If we want to be big, better, best, we ought to get our hands on everything that matches. Choicest meats, fine wines, take our fill, satiate the body. All the time. The more often we eat the best, the better we become.
But what if all of that is actually getting in the way?
What if filling up on everything “good” in life keeps us from the nourishment of that which we really need and are prone to leave out if there’s no room on the plate?
What if constant feasts starve us?
What if we’re consuming so much and it means so little that instead of making us stronger, faster, smarter and better, it’s simply fattening us up? Like Daniel and his friends, if we trimmed down and put the meat in the right place – celebrations of what God has done, not what We have done – then we live at the optimal point where we flourish.
No need to live like a vegetarian. No need to eat like a heathen. Just putting the right things in the right place. Not just on our plates, but in our lives.