Leather Chairs at McDonald’s

When I was a kid we didn’t go out that much for fast food and now as an adult it’s even less so I confess to it being a long time since I set foot in a McDonalds.  I still can’t remember the last time I ate at one (though I have had their sweet tea from the drive through), but I walked into one today and was surprised to see leather chairs next to mahogany coffee tables and granite looking table tops.  Even the lighting was designed to create separate little spaces for people to eat and talk and hang out.  The history of McDonalds is one of innovation so it really should not come as a surprise that they are adapting to what people want and were the first to offer things like free internet forcing others like Starbucks and Barnes and Noble to make their’s free as well.  It is easy to get snobbish about fast food and to see places like McDonalds and others like them as the reason why kids are so obese and there is some truth to it, but it’s more about the mentality of a lifestyle that doesn’t have time to sit down and have a proper meal and about eating too much, than it is about the food anymore.  There are healthy options and now even this fast food place is inviting you to sit down and stay and have a private moment with your friends and family in the separate spaces they have created for you, but you can still grab your super sized meal togo.  The reality is that even top chefs applaud them for the way they train people and they have paid attention and even seem to care about people’s choices.  Their history is worth reading.
Leather chairs at McDonald’s should teach us all a lesson about paying attention, about listening to the pulse of societal need.  It’s not about being more fancy, it’s about meeting people where they are or where they want to be, maybe need to be…taking a break in a space with friends or alone, pausing in the midst of the fast life, fast food world, even if the food is fast.

Want and need in an era of twenty-four hour convenience

Of the many things that it has become easy to take for granted is that stores will always be open when we want something.  It’s a habit that we can get into and out of when they aren’t, but when they are we get used to it.  The ability to go and buy groceries, or even more at any time of night is kind of silly, but then 2am hits and you just gotta have that piece of cake, that missing ingredient, that… for the night owl it’s much appreciated that when the munchies strike at 3am there is something to be done about it.  Some of the best stories of things like frostbite (ok so not your everyday late night snack run kind of experience but it might have happened one night in Fairbanks) and some deep moments of clarity have come on those solitary walks to the store in the middle of the night, but the trouble with having it is that it creates an expectation.  It makes it so much easier to be frustrated by stores which close early or even by those that close at a reasonable time.  Every week we can encounter stores closed for midday prayer, synagogue and church which is great.  In other countries there are still things open late, though more things seem to close early and a part of you can even kind of applaud the owners for not working in a world where we over work and don’t spend nearly enough time playing.  Then again, you planned ahead just to make sure you have what you need…but then you want something, you crave something and there is simply no way to get it where you are.  Then the internet came along and can loose a book order a new one from your smart phone and get it delivered to your house the next day giving instant gratification a new meaning in this always on society.  Whether it is food, or the other night a friend’s desire to shop in New York on our one stranded night there (a place that one would assume is always open kind of like Vegas, but which was not at all open); we expect things to be open.  When we stop and think about it the absurdity of what we are really saying to the owners, “how can you be closed just because you want some sleep and it costs more to pay someone to be in the store and have the lights on than you are likely to make just in case I am hungry?” is pretty ridiculous.  
There are twenty-four usable hours in everyday, and there are often stores open at any given time, but really the closed store is a wonderful lesson in want vs. need.  Granted, occasionally it really is a need, but most of the time it’s a want.  It’s like fasting.  People who have never fasted will tell you that they need food, but people who fast can tell you that it is precisely the fact that you want food, but do not need it which makes fasting such a powerful devotional experience.  When we learn to control our wants we begin to understand what we really need.  In a world twenty-four hour convenience we can loose the line between the two which is why we need some closed stores just to remind us of what we really need.  

A National Day of Prayer

I feel so strongly the desire to learn from those whose beliefs and philosophies differ from my own and I spend much of my time, study and energy trying to encounter and understand those who are not like me.  I struggle with nationalism which is different from patriotism and I don’t actually appreciate the flags coming out on National Day of Prayer because prayer and God for me have nothing to do with nationhood.  The ideal of the day is for the people of this nation who pray to pray together for each other and for those who lead us.  My hope is that as better relationships are formed between those of us in religious leadership, we will teach each other how best to celebrate or not celebrate and pray together.  If it is not about bringing us together in some kind of unity (not uniformity but respectful togetherness) then I don’t know what it is for.

Life as Jellybeans

When Tom Hanks as Forest Gump made famous the phrase, “Life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re goin’ta get,” something bothered me about that statement. It was a great line delivered well enough to earn a best actor award, but maybe I just decided to think too much about it. It wasn’t just that I don’t like chocolate, because even without eating it I could understand the metaphor, it was, I guess, my hope that life is not so random. In some ways I get it, life can throw so many things at us. Babies coming nine weeks early, stage four cancer, job loss, a move, a new relationship, a great opportunity who knows, but maybe his point was that even if you don’t like what’s in the center at least for the person who likes chocolate it’s still chocolate. Life for me however is not those things. Those things happen, they are events, but life is lived in the choices we make in the midst of what happens. I get the random event part, I really do, and I suppose you choose which chocolate to try, but as a person who believes in free will while at the same time acknowledging the interaction of God with the world I don’t think there are bad things in the center unless we let them be. There are hard things, horrible things that happen, that should not happen, but if we let those things be life then it’s like evil wins. I was stuck in an airport the other day and I kind of forgot to eat as I tried to figure out my next move, so when I got hungry my choices were more limited as things closed down. One of the places open was a candy store. It was this colorful cacophony of bins filled with all sorts of candies and a big sign repeated in several places, “all candy $2.99/lb mixing is ok.” All of a sudden that line came into my head and I realized this was my metaphor to counter the box of chocolates. There were lots of candies and yes you might choose some that you ended up not liking at all, but you get to make your own mix. It was a limited selection but you could do with it what you chose to do with it. I went with jellybeans. I created a mixture of six or seven different kinds (going a little overboard in terms of quantity). At first they were all separate staying where they were deposited, but after a bit they became mixed. I chose the flavors. I created the mix. Stuff may get thrown into the mix and I can’t eat just jellybeans, but I can go to them when what’s thrown at me tastes bad. I can turn to the mix that I chose and say this is life. That other stuff is what it is and no matter how bad it might be, there are these good things I put in my bag of jellybeans, my flavors. I live in the mix I choose, the mix I create, that is life and the difficult things I have to learn from, spit them out, recover from or do my best to avoid, but I refuse to let them be my life.

Douglas Memorial UMC

From the outside you could already hear the church rockin’ so I was excited before I even stepped into the sanctuary. When I walked in, there was a band with two women singing and only a handful of people in the congregation. I was late so I was surprised that there weren’t many people there, but the energy of those two women made it feel like the sanctuary was full. I sat down and a few more people came and a third woman joined the first two and things were getting started. We were invited to stand and join in as the choir danced in singing, “Let’s be the service.” You couldn’t help but feel energized and sing along. It felt good to sing. From the time I walked up to the building the spirit was pervasive. Everything, every prayer, every scripture, basically every moment had musical accompaniment and it kept you swaying the whole time. The choir didn’t just sing the hymns, they danced them and the nearly every person from the liturgist to the choir director gave some kind of personal witness as part of whatever else they were doing. It was like getting snippets of sermons throughout the service and then even the sermon itself called on the congregation to give further testimony. At the time of offering the scripture of tithing was read and the challenge was laid down before us to give as a matter of faith. The end result was that we worshiped together. What I mean by that is that every person could not help but a part of the worship, we were drawn into the experience as something sacred. There was a spirit, which was palpable. When I was invited to introduce myself every person in the congregation came over to me singing and offered me a genuine hug (most of them gave me a second hug at the end of the service too). Having identified myself as a pastor I was also invited to pray with people at the rail at the end of the service, which is an honor for me and never fails to move me as well. It was a blessing to be made at home and to be a part of that connection that is so much bigger than any local church.