Monday, October 5, 2009

Well, La, Ti, Da! Or, On The Importance of Culture

When I was a child in West Virginia, if someone used a highfalutin’ word, someone else would inevitably respond, “well, la, ti da!”
It was an insult, and often a devastating one. Roughly translated, it meant, “Something is seriously wrong with you for using that word. A refined vocabulary puts the rest of us down and makes us feel bad. Lower the level of your conversation if you want us to like you.”

Sometimes it was deserved. There are those who deliberately use obscure words to put others down through feelings of inadequacy.

However, “la, ti da,” can also be used to resist refinement.

The establishment or continuation of culture can be undermined by such things.

I think that the ‘la, ti, da response’ is a great and present danger to the future of Western Civilization, which is the accumulated culture of six thousand years.

My definition of “culture” is “nature colonized by intelligence.”

The most basic form of culture, I submit, is agriculture: the purposeful management of soil and plants to maximize food production.

Even in their natural state, soil and plant life provide food. However, in that state, food must be sought and gathered from large tracks of ground. This requires most of the waking hours of anyone who wants to eat.

Agriculture makes it possible for a few people to feed many people. That, in turn, allows the many people to build material things and to create the kinds of immaterial things that make human life meaningful and joyful.

Agriculture moves human life beyond mere survival. It allows people to congregate in large numbers, where they can create cities. The cities can then form networks that can become civilizations.

This is what culture in all its aspects does for human life: it keeps us moving from mere survival and toward meaning and enrichment. It turns isolated brutes into cooperative citizens.

For example, education cultivates natural human intelligence. When we educate a child, we are maturing his or her raw intelligence. It moves from a preoccupation with mere survival into a focus upon artistic, spiritual, economic, and social concerns.

This is the way all kinds of culture work.

Culture develops individuals.

In turn, cultured individuals develop culture.

Therefore, we may say, culture tends to create a self-perpetuating cycle of development.
This cycle will continue unless and until individuals within a particular culture begin to resist it and to prefer a state of raw nature. It is at this time that culture begins to disappear.

This occurs when a substantial percentage of a people within a given culture adopt a “know-nothing” attitude. They begin to take pride in being unlettered, uneducated, or uncultured.
Religious people may express this attitude by disdaining their own scholars who study their own scriptures. They may begin to view ignorance as a form of piety.

Politically minded people do this when they seek their information only from those sources in agreement with their own political ideology.

These choices disrupt the cycle of cultural development. Culture begins to unravel. Things begin to head toward the state of raw nature: barbarism.

This is a serious trend. Unless reversed, it suggests the approaching fall of a culture because civilization is too frail to survive the state of barbarism.

A man or woman in a state of nature cannot do arithmetic.

For that matter, a man or woman in a state of nature cannot decide when and where to empty his or bladder. When the urge strikes, it must be obeyed. That is “what is natural.” One must belch when he wants or shout when he pleases.

Both arithmetic and toilet training are fruits of culture. They are behaviors we deliberately produce through the willful colonization of our natural human drives. They develop when we invite the collective intelligence of human society to influence and challenge our natural ideas and mental states.

Learning to navigate within and to make meaningful contributions to human society never comes naturally. It requires deliberate training. Those who ignore this cultural training, resist it, or disdain it, remain locked in the lower levels of intelligence and skill available to those who prefer states of nature. There are many ways we can do this.

One of the most disturbing trends of our times is the acceptance (and even celebration of) states of barbarism. The uncouth, the uncivil, the rude and the rash, are everywhere celebrated for their courage and forthrightness. Meanwhile, the measured and the cautious, the moderate and the considerate, the polite and the gracious are often taken as cowards and compromisers; unworthy of respect.

I have lived in a state of nature with Stone Age people. I have learned from them that civilization is fragile, that culture is precious. I know how raging fools, spilling out venom and vitriol, can stir up a mob that will develop the courage to kill. A blood lust can develop in the soul of a people that propels those people into states of insanity and mass hysteria. This can occur even to ordinarily gracious and generous people, if they adopt a know-nothing philosophy of life.

It happened once in Europe. A highly educated population began to tolerate the shouts of angry, hurling insults against Jews. The mob soon arose and carried Jews to ovens, where they baked and turned into smoke as their countrymen cheered.

It happened once here. A populist president drove an entire race of people across the continent as old people and babies died by the thousands. The path those people marched is a mere five miles from our church. Our culture –through our highest court -- said “don’t do it.” But the mob said “go ahead” and the deed was done. Our nation sinned against God and against an entire race of people. We then covered up the deed in the history books and our political speeches.

Art and Science, Athletics and Spirituality, Agriculture and Medicine; all require stability, civility, moderation, manners, discussions that honor difference and definitions of terms. Such things do not arise from states of nature. They are the deliberate fruit of intentional cultivation.

Their continued existence is dependent upon our steadfast resistance of any romanticizing or celebration of states of barbarism.

La, ti, da is not an innocent jingle. It is an insidious call to return to the jungle.

Monday, September 21, 2009

What Is Real, Really?

So much of what we think is valuable is, in a sense at least, a figment of our collective imagination.

Human beings do not live merely as natural beings in a natural world; they live in a natural world overlaid with meanings they pour into it.

Our interpretation of things, events, motives of others – even of our own emotions – are often as real to us as any tree or bird. Thus, a robin is pleasant and a vulture is not. We can be as wise as an owl or as self-deceiving as an ostrich; stubborn as a mule or free as a bird.

Wisdom is the process of distinguishing between useful and delightful thoughts on one hand, and absolute reality on the other.

We live within a web of mental constructions that can seem as real to us as brick houses. In fact, most of us live in houses that others constructed. In many cases, the houses were here before we were born, just like the mental constructions that were given to us by culture, nation, family and religion.

The houses are made of natural substances. However, even those substances are prepared by human hands. Brick is clay that people have cooked according to recipes passed down and refined by generations of people since the days of ancient Babylon. Nonetheless, we soon invest these houses – at least the ones we actually inhabit – with affection, memory and meaningful artifacts and so, in time, these “houses” become “homes.”

The same sort of process transforms a piece of dirt into a “motherland” or a piece of cloth into “Old Glory.” It even transforms a nasty piece of cloth-paper into “money.”

It is all “art,” a shortened word for “artificial”: that is to say, “man-made”.

Art is the purposeful arrangement of materials in order to communicate emotion, idea or meaning. It is the imposition of human imagination upon nature. It is the process of transforming a piece of imagination into a piece of matter.

So what is imagination? The word means “image-making.” It describes the greatest power of human life: our ability to “see things that are not as though they were.”

Isn’t it great? Well, most of the time.

The Bible continually warns us against idolatry, which is the elevation of man-made things into the category of “absolute.” Idolatry erases the border between God-made and “man-made.” It makes the figments of our imagination as valuable, or even more valuable, than the world of nature. Thus, a national border, which human minds conceive and then project upon the natural world, can become more valuable than human beings, who bear God’s own image and likeness.
Our greatest president recognized the point I am making here when, in his most famous speech, he acknowledged that this nation was “conceived and dedicated to a proposition.” The proposition to which he refers is noble, even godly: “all men are created equal.” Nonetheless, the president’s assertion exposes the nation’s foundation: ideas.

The true borders of our nation are not latitudes and longitudes but ideals: a democratically governed republic, a portion of the world in which people make the most important decisions of life according to the dictates of their own conscience, a contract among all the generations that “this government of the people, by the people and for the people shall not perish from the earth,” a promise to “provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare for ourselves and our posterity,” and so forth and so on.

My mind is filled with all these phrases and customs, explanation and emotions, arguments and historical events. Every time I cross the border from another country into this one, this web of patriotic constructions shudders with delight. “This land is my land (not so sure these days that it’s your land) from California to the New York islands.”

This land is my home: “land where my fathers died; land of the pilgrims’ pride.”

My ancestors were all here before the revolutionary war. They fought and died in all its wars. They tamed a wilderness and left home places that I treasure.

It’s wonderful. But it’s not holy.

When patriotism becomes holy, the darkness of idolatry leads to purges, concentration camps and persecution.

The first two commandments are clear: we are forbidden to worship the things we create.
When we blur the distinction between creation and art, we get into dangerous territory.

Fantasy is another form of imagination; little private movies that we play for our own amusement, instruction or horror. When the fantasies turn dark, they can exert great power over our actions.

“May the words of our mouths and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable in Thy sight, Oh Lord.”

May we have the wisdom to discern the difference between art and nature, between that which is holy and that which only deserves respect, and between fleeting notions and ideas which need to be nourished, developed and imposed upon the world.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Scott Hord - The Next Julia Child?

“Julia Child wants you – that’s right, you, the one living in the track house in sprawling suburbia with a dead-end middle-management job and nothing but a Stop and Shop for miles around – to know how to make good pastry, and also how to make those canned beans taste all right. She wants you to remember that you are human, and such are entitled to the most basic of human rights, the right to eat well and enjoy life. “(Julie Powell, from Julie and Julia, Little, Brown and Company, P. 44, 45)

I bought the book!

I’m not going to tell you to rush out and buy it though.

It’s full of profanity. Also, it oozes with secular angst from a young lady born after most of the great events that molded my life and values.

Still, I had to read it. I think I am intrigued because young Americans without God are searching through aesthetic, sexual, and relational experiences to find solace for their soul and meaning for their lives. The book Eat, Pray, Love told the same sort of story.
What an opportune time to reach real seekers!

A seeker is someone whose soul is hungry.

This morning, as I walked into our church building, I heard the young students of Artios Academy singing. I stopped. I listened. Then I went to join them. My soul had been awakened by the sound of their tiny voices praising God. I doubt that they were as deeply moved as I was; most of them were just obeying their headmaster who wants them to sing every morning to begin their day.

But whatever their experience was about, I was moved.
By what?

By one small opportunity to feed my soul.

I had been hurrying to my office from my car.

Why?

Who knows? Perhaps because that is what responsible adults do; we hurry, rush, work at something that seems responsible all day and then return to our families speaking in short sentences until bedtime. Not much room for soul in all of that.

“All Thy works shall praise Thy name in earth and sky and sea,” the young voices sang.
Stop. Listen. Sing. Drink in the experience that may connect my soul to God and to His people. Take advantage of a moment that may remind me that I am a creature of eternity.

Julia Child doesn’t offer all of that. Julie Powell certainly does not offer it.

So what do they offer? They offer an opportunity to remember that we are not Homo-economicus after all. We are Homo sapiens. We think. We reflect. We create. We acknowledge meaning. We have a soul.

Julia child knew that working class people needed this knowledge. She knew that people are not created to sit hours inside some cubicle filling out forms. They are not meant to spend their lives churning a wheel like a hamster, day after soul-numbing day. They are not meant to be expendable economic units of Behemoth International Inc.

People are made in the image and likeness of God. They are creatures of infinite worth. They are made to commune with God and to relate to their fellow human beings. When they forget those things, their souls get sick.

It’s all in the 23rd Psalm: “He prepareth a table before me. He maketh me to lie down. He restoreth my soul.”

Rest. Eat. Feed the soul. Find renewal. That’s why the 23rd Psalm is the most beloved one.

Scott Hord will not be pleased that I compare him to Julia Child. I will admit that I am doing it partially to irritate him, which isn’t kind. But he’s tough. He can take it.

Scott Hord manages our physical fitness center. He works hard all day helping people find God through physical activity and conversation. He talks about basketball and soccer until the conversation takes a turn that reveals the soul. It takes time. Men are terribly afraid to reveal their soul. They often are even unaware that they have one. When it starts shouting for attention, they may go search for porn, or, if they are healthier, go watch big trucks demolish old cars. Men need noise, arousal, action and even conflict to drown out the cry of their soul. When that fails, they may use a drug to put their soul to sleep.

Soul hunger can inflict a lot of damage on men. That’s why, when Scott talks about basketball, he listens for that moment when the conversation turns to “life just sucks,” or “I can’t figure out what my wife wants; she’s driving me nuts.”

He hears the soul speaking. He then searches for a way to feed the soul, to strengthen it, to do something that will help the man he is speaking with realize that the soul is not dangerous – that it must not be denied or numbed – that it is our very being.
He shepherds men’s souls, in other words. And that is a very important thing to do.

Scott doesn’t cook, though, so I am struggling to find a way to fit him into a blog that has been about cooking for the last week.

Ahh, but he does roast coffee!

So what does coffee taste like when it has been roasted by a man who shepherds souls? Well, for one thing it tastes very, very good! There are two reasons why; he started roasting coffee because he wanted a way to support orphans in Africa. However, Scott also studied how to roast coffee. Had he not learned how to roast coffee from people who know how, he would have had to resort to emotional manipulation to sell bad coffee. A few people would have bought the coffee out of a sense of guilt. Then they would have sworn at him behind his back!

Compare Scott for a moment to Julie Powell. She sounds like a smarty-pants spoiled little girl who took a long time to grow up. Her book reveals this even more than the movie. Also, she is not a believer – she makes that clear from the start. That means she has no Bible.

However, she does have a soul and her soul is perishing from neglect. It is numb from the battering of modern urban life. She has forgotten that she bears the image and the likeness of God. She is soul hungry.

The Art of French Cooking is not a sacred text. Julia Child can’t save her soul. But Julia Child can remind Julie that she has a soul. Julia Child knows that an artful and meaningful meal with friends is good at awakening our souls. That’s what the oohs and ahhs are all about when we eat good food. The soul is being noticed. It responds like a neglected child who is suddenly noticed. It perks up with a sense of anticipation that perhaps it will be restored after all, even in a go-nowhere job, or on an every day journey to work through traffic jams.

Julie’s mitzvot, her commitment to cook for a year through all of Julia Child’s recipes, awakens something that had been asleep in her for a long time. That is the reason I enjoyed this movie: I was delighted watching her soul awaken.

However, when someone takes on a mitzvot like Scott Hord did, something even deeper occurs. Scott’s coffee feeds hungry children. That’s a big deal. It is also growing the effectiveness and leadership abilities of a good man. That’s another big deal. It is developing a business that I believe is going to go very far indeed. That’s another good thing. Finally, Scott offers a moment of relaxation with a cup of coffee that possesses the sort of quality we used to expect from YOUKNOWWHEREBUCKS.

“AHHHHH!” the souls says, “ Life is too short to drink swill.”

How can I end this blog? Oh, I know: why doesn’t someone think of cooking one of those soul-awakening meals from Julia Child’s cookbook?

Then, that blessed person can serve ABBA Java coffee with a small French pastry?

Wouldn’t that be nice?
I would support such a person with my presence and my wholehearted participation!

www.abbajava.org