American Idiots

Jackass: (n) 1. A donkey, esp. a male. 2. A fool

President Obama may have inadvertently actually said something that everyone--Republican and Democrat--can actually agree on last week when he stated that Kanye West was a jackass.

He was, of course, referring to West's behavior at last Sunday's MTV Video Music Awards, when he leaped onto the stage, took the microphone from 19-year-old winner Taylor Swift and pronounced that Beyonce's "Single Ladies" video deserved the honor.

The truth is, even without that moment, Kanye West could still be accurately labeled a jackass, based on his "George Bush doesn't care about black people" moment during a Hurricane Katrina fundraiser or his similar antics at other award shows. He's the perfect example of celebrity run amok, a man who's been praised so often that he begins not only to believe his own hype but also promote it as Gospel. His pride spills over so far that it's not just that he's full of himself but he also wants everyone to be part of the Kanye cult, believing that he's the greatest rapper/singer/self-promoter in the world and that all of his beliefs and preferences are the right ones and not to be trifled with.

And he earns the right to be called a jackass--an annoying animal whose braying hurts the ears of all nearby.

Of course, just a week or so earlier, Congressman Joe Wilson participated in his own brand of jackassery by shouting "You Lie!" during President Obama's statements on health care. I have to believe that Wilson, full of Republican fire and passion, believed this would be a profoundly American moment of dissent. Instead, he revealed himself to be a Kanye-style fool with his show of disrespect and immaturity.

In just two weeks time, both Kanye West and Joe Wilson have solidified the stereotype of the Ugly American. . .a brash, loud and boorish creature who has no intention of listening to others' viewpoints, but simply shouts out their own and yells even louder to keep the opposing view down.

It's not the views of West and Wilson that I necessarily disagree with. Not being that into the whole MTV scene, I have no idea if I'd think Beyonce's video was better than Taylor Swift's--I haven't seen either of the videos in question. Likewise, I don't think that President Obama's health care plan is near flawless or even what we need...all I can admit is that we have a system right now that does not work and we need some sort of change; in reality, I would like to see a lot of compromise between both Republicans and Democrats before I think we'd have something workable. Both West and Wilson are free to have their views and, in a responsible and adult fashion, express them.

It's that last part that no one seems to get right.

It's pretty obvious to everyone that West's behavior was appalling. Everyone knows you don't jump up to the stage, steal the microphone from the winner and say someone else should have won. It's disrespectful for the winner...disrespectful for a gracious loser...and serves only to place yourself in a spotlight that you don't deserve. Of course West, ever the hype man, spun his apology and showed up on talk shows so quickly that one wonders if this was the work of someone who had too much to drink (as is alleged) or if it was a very intricately-planned publicity ploy. Neither would surprise me and it makes me glad that I don't listen much to Kanye's music.

Wilson has his defenders. They say he was just fed up. He was standing up against someone who he believed was telling lies. Of course, were the tables turned and it was a Democratic congressman shouting at a Republican President, you'd find everyone switching sides...the same people who are appalled now would be supporting the dissent and those who stand behind Joe Wilson would be crying for the dissenter's resignation. But the extreme partisanship that is destroying this country is the subject of another blog.

Me, I'm not so much interested in politics or even the state of affairs of our government. My concern over Wilson's behavior is more from a culture standpoint and a fear of where we are as humans. How many of you would attend a lecture, a business meeting or a college class and shout out "you lie" to the presenter/boss/professor if you disagreed with them? Chances are you would simply either let it slide, pull the person aside afterward or write a letter, depending on how passionately you felt about the subject. Creating an outburst draws attention to yourself. Losing your cool loses the argument because you can only be proven right (if you can be) through discussion and dialogue, not childish screaming and yelling. And honestly, throwing a fit makes you look like a fool. Have you ever observed the customer temper tantrum in a department store, bank or restaurant? Have you ever thought that person, with their red face and stream of cuss words, was actually in the right?

I don't think Kanye West and Joe Wilson are the problem. They are merely symptomatic of a larger problem within our culture that even Presidents fall prey too--after all, I'm sure you can remember George W. Bush calling a journalist an "a--hole" during his Presidential campaign. And Obama has had his slips of the tongue, particularly with the campus police in the whole "beer diplomacy" joke.

Everyone has always had opinions. The problem with our culture these days is that everyone believes their opinion is right, with no chance of being wrong, and that the best thing they can do is shout that opinion at the top of their lungs and shoot down anyone who disagrees with them.

And yes, I know some will say this: we have the right to dissent and have free speech and demonstration. That's true; I don't disagree with that and, in fact, there are places and times where dissent--when done with respect, intelligence and gentleness--is a much-needed thing. But too few people remember this: there's a big difference between having a right and doing the right thing.

The Internet has created a culture where everyones opinions can be heard. Unfortunately, Americans are often much more interested in telling their own opinion than listening to those of others. Facebook statuses and Tweets become bully pulpits where we spout our rhetoric and views; is there anything more pathetic and pointless than the use of Twitter for debate? Bloggers bemoan the lack of objective reporting but quote only sources that feed their own biases...I refuse to listen to anyone who tells me that CNN and ABC are part of the liberal media when their only exposure to news comes from Fox News and Rush Limbaugh; news should offend both sides of the aisle. But instead we have a culture where people firmly believe their ideology and rhetoric are the only right and good ones and so everything they say and listen to will be part of spreading that belief around as if politics could ever hold the same Truth and infallibility as the Gospel.

But as we're also spreading our views, we've been taught very well not to let the opposing side come into play at all. Bill Maher and Rush Limbaugh (both on opposing sides but both the perfect examples of the ugliest of the Ugly Americans) have taught us to look down at, laugh at or simply outshout and out talk opposing viewpoints. A look at the letters to the editor portion of newspapers shows how quickly intelligence, rationality and respect are thrown out the window in favor of tearing down other views, spouting your own rhetoric and doing so in a manner that dehumanizes and belittles other people.

We've lost, in this culture, the art of the debate and discussion. We've forgotten the importance of sitting down and having friendly, civil discussion. You can be passionate about an issue and still talk in a calm tone. You can disagree with someone and still let them have their say; you don't have to yell. And guess what, you can still have your opinions and admit that you may very well be wrong. No growth comes out of being right all the time; improvement comes from seeing where we're wrong and making the right compromises and changes to better each time.

And Christians, most importantly, must be above the fray.

I know many Christians have strong political views. And I know it's tempting to yell and shout and look just like this ugly, vitriolic culture. But we're called to something better. We're commanded to speak the truth in love, with gentleness and humility. We're called to consider others better than ourselves. We're commanded to love our enemies, pray for those who persecute us, serve those who hate us and realize that every human being has worth and value. Surely part of that means putting our aside our tendency to bicker, yell and nitpick because we realize that politics, government and even this nation is temporary. In light of Eternity, will any of us even remember that there was once a place called America, let alone disagreements over health care and taxes?

That's not to say we can't be political. That's not to say we can't be passionate. But passion that gives way to hatred, pride and disrespect is misplaced, sinful passion. True, Godly involvement in politics means we're willing to sit across from those we disagree with and share our views without interrupting, without raising our voices, without believing we have all the answers or that everything out of their mouth will be wrong. True, God-honoring debate must be gentle, loving,

humble and ultimately done with a dash of frivolity, knowing that more important matters of the soul are at stake.

Let's pray that the American church be as wise as serpents, as humble as doves....and nothing like a jackass.

VIPs

I've been star struck exactly twice in my life.

One of the great things about being a journalist (even a freelance one) who works the film beat is that, on occasion, you get the opportunity to meet and interview some of the big people in the industry. Being situated in Detroit and doing my writing for a local weekly paper, I never did get a coveted interview with Steven Spielberg or Tom Hanks, but I did get to meet those who often were a bit newer to the scene or had some little gem that was just getting discovered.

That was the case two years ago, shortly after "Juno" came out of nowhere to be the darling at the Toronto Film Festival. The buzz for it, which had been nearly nonexistent before the festival, was suddenly deafening. I had enjoyed director Jason Reitman's previous film, "Thank You for Smoking" and I liked the work of the cast he assembled, but I was seriously skeptical about the ability of what appeared to be a teen comedy making any sort of impact on me.

I had the privilege of seeing "Juno" about two months before it opened in Detroit and I was immediately in love with everything about the movie--Reitman's deft direction, the fantastic cast, the witty dialogue by Diablo Cody and even the quirky indie soundtrack. I think I ended up seeing the film four times before it left theaters and I named it the best movie of 2007. So when the chance came to interview Reitman and Cody, right around the time the film was announced as a Golden Globe contender, was something that really tickled my inner geek.

I was terrified of meeting them, though. I did my research...I read the script for "Juno" and went back and rewatched "Smoking" (btw--I'm very glad to hear that Reitman's third film, "Up in the Air" is also winning over crowds in Toronto this very weekend). I even read "Candy Girl," Cody's memoir about the year she spent as a stripper (and yes, it was an awkward conversation when my father found the book).

The interview went well. They were two very nice, down-to-Earth people who couldn't believe their good fortune. But there was a point in the middle of the conversation where the thought just bumped into my mind: "This woman is going to win an Oscar for her work with this movie. And this guy is the son of the man who directed 'Ghostbusters.' What the heck am I doing with these people?" I think I may have even stammered out to them that that was my first "celebrity" interview.

Less than a year later, I found myself back in that hotel room with a group of journalists getting ready to talk to Rainn Wilson about "The Rocker" (coincidentally, Wilson had a bit part in "Juno"). I had seen the movie, which was quite terrible. But it didn't matter. I'm a major "Office" fan and Wilson's work on that has always made me laugh (it's one of the few areas where the U.S. version actually improved upon the BBC's character...although I will never sell Gareth short). He walked in the room, dressed in a 'Star Trek' t-shirt and couldn't have been cooler or nicer to everyone. But still, there was a moment of geekery where it suddenly hit me: "I just fist-bumped Dwight Schrute and had him answer a question for me. Dwight Schrute just posed for a picture for me."

Those are two rare instances of me being star-struck. The truth is that I've been around famous and semi-famous folk on and off. I've interviewed actors and directors (I would have been starstruck by Danny Boyle if he hadn't been so darn nice) and found that, for the most part, they have come across as very nice, down-to-Earth and charming and the intimidation disappears pretty quickly. And there have been cases where I've been unimpressed by people--this year I was in close proximity to Arnold Schwarzenegger and found myself a bit bored by him. When I was in high school, working concession at a movie theater, Aretha Franklin came in one night and was one of the rudest people I dealt with (R-E-S-P-E-C-T? Aretha didn't give none to me.)

But in those two cases above, I was starstruck. These were people who had done work that had some sort of an impact on me and left me in a sort of awe over their talent. Don't think I wasn't name-dropping them all over afterward.

I can look back now and be a bit amused or embarrassed at my reaction. After all, these are just regular people. They are just doing a job where their work appears in a very public venue. To accord them a professional respect or critical admiration is one thing, but is anyone really important enough to make our palms go sweaty or to make us feel that we've become more important just by being in close proximity to them?

In the job I have now, I deal with a lot of officials in the military. And it's funny how the rank system affects people. I understand the need for it and, in the Army, there's a necessity to it. But I have also learned that if you tell someone enough times that they're important, they'll start to believe it. It's amazing how pride and hubris can manifest itself in jobs that, honestly, aren't much different than what most people throughout Detroit are doing in some fashion. The vast majority of the people I work with are kind, easy-going and down-to-Earth. But every once in awhile you see someone very high up who requires an intermediary to talk to anyone below them and I've seen a few people who won't even acknowledge the "little people" when they're walking down the hallway. I'm not talking about professional respect that says "we should deal pleasantly with people who are our seniors." I'm talking about the attitude that says "I"m an important person and deserve to be treated like that." Respect is always bestowed, it should never be expected.

But it's not limited to that environment. In my time at the paper, I also dealt with politicians. And if anyone wants a quick dose of pomposity, they should simply be elected to public office. The off the record conversations I had in the office of one township official made me very uncomfortable, as he'd talk down about his constituents, his coworkers and the people he worked around every day. The attitude was thus: "I'm the leader. I have the power. I just put up with these people."

Even more baffling, for me, are the people who want to be around the very important people. As much as I loved dealing with the Hollywood people, I never wanted to be part of their entourage or group. I never wanted to be the person telling them "you're so important" or telling other people "this is someone you need to pay attention to." I also never wanted schmooze at any of the political events I occasionally had to attend at the paper; I never wanted to be "that guy," who shakes hands with politicians, laughs at their jokes, speaks their language and fits in with them. I remember once covering a community event and getting roped into a conversation with a gentleman who was campaigning for governor. He kept wanting me to follow him and take pictures of him interacting with people. My stomach lurched at the thought of it; I snapped one or two pics before telling him that while it was great meeting him, my obligation was to take photos of the community. Even now, I enjoy meeting the people who I write about and I give them professional courtesy and respect...but when I see how others fawn all over people who are in high positions or seek to be noticed and liked by them (kissing butt, is what I call it), it makes me sigh. Maybe it's that journalistic outsider part of me or maybe it's just that, really, I don't see what a higher education, rank or political title really does to make someone more important than the guy who sweeps the floors or takes out the trash. Professional courtesy is one thing...friendship or recognition by someone just to say "I know so-and-so" or to use that to help my career just seems shallow, crass and phony.

Where do we get this idea that people are to be put on a pedestal or--in a sense--worshipped because they appear on a public stage, have a nice source of money or are in a position of power? Do we really believe that those things make them a better person than anyone else? And what of our desire to be seen with the prestigious and powerful? Do we think it gives us an inherent worth? Are other people now obligated to respect us because we're on a first name basis with someone who gets their name in the newspaper?

Have we forgotten about the Bible verses that cry out "what is man that You are mindful of Him?" Have we forgotten the reminder that life is simply a vapor, easily snuffed out and a life is like the grass that is cut up and thrown away? Yes, God created us to be in His image and made us the high point of Creation. But that position, that great height, also meant we had a big fall. And we didn't just mess up; we rebelled against our Creator. We went to war against Him and the majority of mankind is still at enmity with God, determined to tell Him that they will decide what they worship as Lord. After all, what is our hero worship but idolatry, giving others the honor, attention and time that belongs only to God?

Have we forgotten our place? Have we forgotten the words of Rich Mullins, who reminded us that we "are not as strong as we think we are"? God spoke existence INTO existence! With one word, there was light. With one sweep of His hands, the universe came into being. With one breath, life began. And what have we done? Sure we've built great things. We've discovered vaccines. We put men on the moon. But we also are idolaters, liars, whores and murderers. From the moment of conception, we've been sinners and it's taken an act of amazing grace to restore us.

And look at how that was done. The God of the Universe...the most important being in existence, the ONLY true V.I.P....humbled Himself. Left everything He had in heaven to clothe himself in an unattractive human body that was prone to sickness, hurt, hunger, fatigue and temptation just like everyone else. He did not come to the spiritual elite, the religious VIPs...in fact, His words towards them were of the harshest condemnation. He surrounded himself with men who were largely poor and uneducated. He lived as a homeless man. He willingly was arrested and tried as a criminal and endured beating, scourging and the most painful, humiliating type of death ever devised. And even then, He willingly took on the pain and shame of having the Father--the One He submitted to, respected and loved more than anything--turn away from Him and pour out His wrath. And why? So that miserable worms like us wouldn't have to take the punishment that was rightfully ours.

How important are you feeling now? And how much more should we love and respect those who are ignored by society in favor of worshipping the pretenders to the throne?

--C

Laboring Days

The issue of work is something that confuses many Christians.

Until a few years ago, I often held to the mistaken idea--believed, sadly, by many--that work was a result of living in a sin-cursed world. After all, didn't God promise Adam and Eve that when they were banished from the Garden that they would have to start working? Isn't the daily grind we all partake in day in and day out simply the consequence of being sinners?

Not exactly.

When Adam and Eve were expelled from the Garden of Eden, they were told not that they would have to start working, but rather that their work would now become toilsome and futile. The idea of work was actually designed before the Fall, when God made Adam a steward of all Creation and commanded him to subdue it. The work at that point was a joyful employment, free of drudgery and frustration--it was part of who Adam was and what he was created to do. As beings created in God's image, we are creative entities, made for good work, gifted and equipped to fulfill certain tasks that God has ordained for us to do.

Without sin, it would have been a joyful and glorious activity that we would do in service to God with joy and confidence. The consequences of sin, however, has made work hard, stressful, frustrating and even unbearable for some.

It's this odd dichotomy--stress mixed with pleasure--and the idea of righteous workmanship that has been on my mind for the past few months as I've struggled with adapting to a new job.

For four years, I worked as a reporter for a weekly newspaper. It was the most fun I ever had--the staff I worked with was incredible and every day I felt like I was going to camp, not to the office. I had a freedom to cover what I wanted and to experiment with my writing if I so desired--during that time I had the opportunity to stretch my creative muscles with long feature stories, columns and reviews.

More than that, there was a sense of pride and importance in what I did. Part of it was due to ego--there is a swell of pride in knowing that you can get the Mayor out of a meeting with a phone call or that you've worked with the cops long enough to get out of speeding tickets. But more than that, there was a feeling of identity--I was a known name in the community. I was the one people called with questions and concerns. If citizens were upset about something in the area, they could give me a call and I'd look into it. I had the cell numbers of township trustees and also was trusted enough to meet with concerned residents to discuss important and controversial events.

I'm a big supporter of community news. It links people with their elected officials. It tells what's going on in the readers' own backyard. Parents clip out the stories and place them in scrapbooks if their children are mentioned. And I was a part of that very important process, a voice in the community. It was the rare job that created an identity in me--I was proud to tell people I was a reporter for the Source and, if I met anyone from my zone, I always made sure they knew how important my job was to me.

I left that job in February to take a more financially-sound opportunity. Some would say I sold out and that might be partially right. I left behind journalism to do something more closely related with marketing and public relations. But, at heart, I've always been a writer and I took a job that still allows me to do what I love most.

I work for a contractor that deals with the military. I write articles for an online newsletter and a quarterly magazine. The articles are not as sexy as the ones I had at the paper--mostly technical articles that I can't even bring myself to read once they're published (although I also remind myself that budget and millage stories are not exactly sexy). I do work around military types who have a certain importance within their arena--but the truth is that, while I afford them a professional respect, it's hard to get excited about a rank or title when you've been able to call the mayor on their cell phone while they're on vacation or sat face-to-face with an Oscar-winning director. And while I'm writing stories about important work going on that actually saves lives, the truth is that it's not news that anyone NEEDS to know...it's not work that's going to impact their kids at school, keep their community safe or change the way business in their town is done.

These aren't complaints. Simply observations. Every job has frustrations--when I worked at the newspaper, the truth was that I also had them. I sometimes wondered who in the world cared about a senior citizen artist of the month. I groaned at every ideologue who took a potshot at my columns. And I had to face the facts that as much as I loved what I did, the wage I was being paid did not offer any substantial financial support.

So, it's just another example of that toil that we have as a result of living post-Fall. The truth is that the job I have now is a very good one; sometimes it's stressful and frustrating, but it's still a good one. And any time I miss the creative punch of journalistic writing, I can craft something for my writer's group or take on a freelance project (I still do reviews for the paper).

I just have to face the fact that this job is just that: a job. It's not my identity. It's not where my fulfillment lies. It's a job that I do and try to do well for 40 hours a week. But after that, I go home to the things that matter most.

And so, facing that shift, I've begun to wonder what my employment as a Christian is to be during my employment 40 hours a week. And I've come up with two answers.

The first is that--whether this job galvanizes me the way that my position as a reporter did or not--my job is to do my work to the best of my ability, with a focus on excellence and quality. Not because it's important work or because my employer asks me too--although those are all good reasons. Rather, I have been commanded to glorify God in all that I do. To do my work without grumbling and complaining and to do so with an attitude that my work is for God and not for man.

I try to remind myself each morning what that means. It means that I don't have a choice whether to be joyful at work or not--rather, it is my duty as a follower of Christ to realize what a gift He has provided with employment (particularly right now in the state of Michigan). It is to realize that He has given me talents and skills that are unique to me and placed me in a position to meet the needs faced by a company where I can be a servant. I'm commanded to work humbly, to submit to my employers joyfully and to work with an attitude that is no different than if God Himself was giving me my tasks.

If I do that, then I can work with a confidence that no matter what complaints I might here or what frustrations might occur, I know there will be a peace I have about my work. Will I be perfect? No. Will I always have a good day? No. But if I set my mind every morning that God has given me this day with 8 hours of work to be accomplished and I actually set about doing so with a joyful attitude, servant's heart and a workman's ethic, I can rest confidently at the end of the day that I have done the right thing. It frees me from the expectations of others--and, truthfully, my own high expectations for myself--by allowing me to realize what God has placed in my path.

The second part actually comes in relation to my realization that the job is not my place of ultimate fulfillment or identity. I think that realization may be another great cause for celebration and freedom.

I know it's cliche to say this, but I don't live to work...I work to live. My life and identity may include what I do 40 hours a week in an office, but it is not solely encapsulated in that. I know people who check their e-mails late into the evening, talk about work after getting out of the office and make it the center of their life. It makes me very sad to think that a person's life and identity could be wrapped up solely in a job that they do for only a few years and that, in the decades to come, will be forgotten. I worry that I would have become that person had I stayed in journalism...the person who's life is defined by their work, upward climb and desire for recognition.

It's freeing to have a job that doesn't have the burden of fulfilling me. I can work harder, knowing that there's a life waiting for me after my shift. I can appreciate my employment more, knowing that I don't live to work but that I can make my job work for me...that the work I do is what earn the money to pay my rent, buy groceries and enjoy life on the evenings and weekends.

More than that, it's that realization that my job doesn't complete me that allows me to glorify God with the rest of my life. It reminds me not to overwork but to take time in the evening to sit with the Word and pray. It reminds me to set a precedence of working hard but also getting into the habit of not staying too late or working too much so I can have the habit set of coming home in the evenings, which I will be adamant about doing when I have children. I realize that the job has given me is a good thing...but it's not THE good thing. Employment is part of the wonderful way in which we can glorify God...but our employment also is a tool. It's the means by which God allows us to earn money to support the things that do give us fulfillment and joy...supporting our families, earning money to give to the church and to missions or simply coming home from a long day to enjoy a quiet evening of rest.

I think on this Labor Day, it's an important reminder to have.

--C