The "B and A Eaters"

Two times a year I visit this healthy restaurant in my neighborhood. It is a nice place, serving people in the community for several decades and it really does serve good food. I intend to go there more often, but they are only open one day a week, only for breakfast, and by the time I remember this is the day it is open, I am very tired and have other obligations/options for breakfast. In fact, I have gotten to the point that I really enjoy eating at home with my family and friends, so unless they are going to go with me to the restaurant, I do not go. Except twice a year, my birthday and anniversary.

Photo by Rachel Park on Unsplash

The restaurant regulars know me as one of the many "birth-aversary eaters" or, for short: "B and A eaters." 

The people there are nice, to be sure and I know they are trying to welcome me to the restaurant they love so much. They tell me how long it has been since they saw me last and even talk about how great the food is or how I should meet the new chef who is doing so good cooking these days. All of it is okay, but a bit overwhelming. I sort of feel guilty when I am there because I am reminded that I generally do not eat healthy for breakfast all the time. I also feel a bit bad because I live so close to the restaurant, and feel like I should support local business and yet cannot seem to make it there more often. 

It really is a fine restaurant, and I support their work. I believe in eating local and supporting the community. I left a tip that was a bit more than I normally would leave as a way of saying thank you. And I am sure I will be back on the next anniversary, but I hope they would stop calling me a "B and A eater." I hope the chef does not point me out and say, "it has been so long since I saw you last, you should come more often!" I hope the guilt I naturally feel is not compounded by the regulars who do not see that I notice their disappointment when I am sitting in their usual spot. 

All I really want is to not feel guilty for going to breakfast. Maybe something is off in me? Or maybe something is off in the culture that does not know what to do with the occasional breakfast eater. 

"The Lonely American Man" and The Church

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Listening to podcasts is my stereotypical millennial habit. Of the podcasts I listen to, Hidden Brain is among the most consistently good and I would recommend every episode Hidden Brain puts out. However, I believe the March 19th episode is one that I would recommend for you to listen to right now. In fact you can click the audio player below and listen right away.

The show has two titles - The Lonely American Man and Guys, We Have a Problem: How American Masculinity Create Lonely Men. 

I was convicted in listening to this episode as a church leader because much of what is missing in the lives of men is present within the walls of a church. We as a church have failed not just to "make disciples for Jesus Christ" we have and are failing at the basic levels of community. 

At this time I do not have any solutions to what ails us, but I was struck at one study cited in this episode. Specifically the people in the study do not have a fear to have a conversation with a stranger, but there was an overwhelming fear to start a conversation with a stranger. 

I am not sure how others start conversations, so perhaps if you have gotten this far you can leave a comment about how you start conversations with people.

What was lost when the Bible was printed on paper

The advent of the printing press and the proliferation of the written word on paper was a great and wonderful advancement for humanity. The sharing of ideas, and perhaps more importantly, the ability to not have to remember everything only where to find it, was explosive. Like much of the world, I am a fan of books and the proliferation of ideas. 

But we did loose something when we printed on paper. We lost the metaphor of parchment. 

Parchment is more costly than paper but it is also more durable. Additionally, parchment is flexible and, perhaps most important to this post, is made from animal skin. 

What does it mean to have words written on a flexible and "living" medium? When scripture is written on parchment we get the impression that scriptures are living but also flexible, durable and sacrificial. The scriptures cost something and thus parchment was a wonderful metaphor for such deep truth claims. Much of this was lost when we went to paper. 

Photo by MJ S on Unsplash

Paper of course is cheap and thus easy to come by. Paper also is less durable and rips easily. While paper is more common and thus easily shared, it also is more fragile and rigid. Could it be that in our efforts to spread scriptures to the ends of the earth, we have allowed our understanding of scripture to be more rigid?

In the digital age, what does it mean that scripture is electronic? It is easily shared (even more than paper), it reclaims a sense of flexibility (even more than parchment), and it is also much more durable (especially scripture in the cloud). It is also the case that electronic scripture means it is so ubiquitous that it does not cost anything, thus scripture is cheap to come by. 

Could it be that some of our debates about the authority of scripture are bound up in the different mediums scripture comes these days?