Cargo Cult Alive and Well Today

     Many of us participate in a Cargo Cult in one way or another.

     Our next-door neighbor comes home with a new purchase (new car, new riding mower, new fishing rod, new patio furniture, new whatever) and we go native, much like the South Pacific islanders mentioned in my previous blog.

     We pray the consumer gods will send to us a cargo container from across the sea. 

     We imagine how life for us would be better, if we too had a newer family vehicle, a larger house, a faster computer, nicer clothing, better power tools, greener grass.

     And before we know it, we start to shape our life around this burning desire to acquire. 

     It starts with a little surfing the Web, checking out the best prices for this or that, mostly to convince ourselves that we have been responsible consumers.

     It continues with a visit to the car showroom, the shopping mall, or the home improvement store, "just to look." And the deal is sealed when we scan the credit cards in our wallet and begin to consider the financing options.

     We may tell ourselves "no" at some point in the hunt, just to feel good about ourselves. But it is of no use. Our desire is too much. The current is too strong. And eventually, we know in our heart of hearts, the cargo container will be ours, one way or another. 

     This is the way it goes with consumer desire, or lust and covetousness of any sort. Once we see something we want and become convinced "it was meant to be," there is no stopping us, even if we don't have the money.

     We will have whatever causes our consumer hearts to burn.

     It is cult-like behavior to be sure. It is a religion in itself, complete with a god (self-fulfillment), sacraments (credit card and loan applications), sanctification (improving credit card scores), justification (acquisition), and salvation (consumption).

     

     

The Cult of Cargo

     Ever heard of a Cargo Cult?
     Me neither, until I read about them recently in the Thomas Merton book Love and Living.
     Apparently, during early stages of western colonization in the South Pacific, the islanders were captivated by large cargo (kago) containers that would "magically" appear on shore via the white man. These containers -- sent by supply boats from England, France, or wherever -- would contain food, medicine, alcohol, tobacco, clothing, and all of the basic things a person or a village might want or need.
     Soon, the arrival of these containers led to a Messianic mindset and myth-making on the part of the islanders. Merton writes, "... Kago came to have a very important meaning for the native: the coming of a good time, when one would be like the whites and enjoy what the whites enjoyed -- the coming of the millennium." The islanders, who lived a rather miserable standard of living when compared to the white man, wanted to have kago of their own. They wanted to be on par with the white man, who got to sit on his front porch and never do much work.
     And since the Bible that the white man handed the islanders did not explain how to get kago, Merton writes, and because the natives never saw a factory or an industrial plant in England where these products were manufactured and processed, the natives started to develop mythical explanations. Was it the white man's ancestors, sending kago from across the sea? Did the natives have distant ancestors who would do the same?
     You can imagine where all of this would go. Rituals and customs emerged. In one instance, Merton writes, the natives saw how the white people liked to put flowers in front of their houses. Was it the flowers that summoned their ancestors to send kago? The islanders followed suit and soon had the whole island covered with flowers, thinking this to be a ritualistic act that would bring about kago for them.
     So what does this have to do with us today? Why would I blog about Cargo Cults of the South Pacific?
     Well, Merton goes on to make a powerful connection to our consumer culture today. We might laugh about this primitive behavior of the islanders, he writes, but we consumer-minded westerners have created Cargo Cults of our own that are every bit as "primitive" as the islanders.
     You will have to follow up with my blog later this week to read more about what Merton, writing in the 1960s, has to speak to us today. And of course, you may already see the connections yourself.

Fighting for Our Heart's Desire

     It could be the six inches of snow on the ground and four days with ice-covered roads, but today as I read Psalm 37:3-4, I find myself reminiscing about a college spring break trip to Florida, WAY back in the 1990s.
     Some friends and I were putting through an upscale marina in Miami in a flat-bottomed aluminum boat, on our way to a snorkeling adventure that never really panned out. While trolling through the marina, I remember dropping my jaw in disbelief at the sight of these mammoth yachts, each with fun, personalized names painted on the back.
     One of these yachts, named "Heart's Desire," sticks in my memory.
     The yacht was owned, I later learned, by a wealthy Christian family in Miami known by one of my friends. The name they chose for their yacht (and the message that it sent to a baby Christian like myself) made a lasting impression. It was something like, "Faithful Christian discipleship equals yacht," or maybe, "Honor Jesus and He will give you cool stuff."
     Today I know this message to be the false message of the Prosperity Gospel. The Prosperity Gospel mistakingly assures us that if we believe and follow Jesus, God will give us our "heart's desire" (insert yacht, fishing boat, big house, nice car, better golf clubs, or whatever material thing your heart desires).
    We know not to store up for ourselves "treasures on earth ... but treasures in heaven." (Mt. 6:19)
    We know not to worry about what we eat, or what we wear, or what we drive, or where we live, or what toys we play with, but to trust in God's provision of the things we need." (Mt. 6:25)
    We know not to seek after the "things that will be added to us," but to "seek first the kingdom of God." (Mt. 6.33)
     But man, it ain't easy!
     I confess that I struggle to keep these Scripture passages in the right order.
     The point of "Seek first the kingdom" is really about the Kingdom, and not about the material stuff tacked on to me as a result of my belief.
     The point of Psalm 37:3-4 ("Take delight in the Lord, and he will give to you the desires of your heart") is about taking delight in the Lord, and not taking delight in the stuff we want or think we need.
     To use theological terms, Jesus and the Kingdom of God that he announces is the substance of these passages; the "stuff" that we get is the accident.
     Sounds good.
     So what do I do about that house my wife and I are eying up in our hearts and minds? How do I keep from taking more delight in my iPhone and my new "Daily Devotional" app, rather than the quiet moments I spend in prayer in the presence of God.
     It ain't easy.
     When it comes down to it, I am no better than the dude with the fancy yacht. He is just more honest than me.
     It takes work, daily walking, to keep the kingdom first and the other stuff in second place.
     It takes diligence and constant reminders to keep God as our true delight and heart's desire.

Power Outage Was Just a Dream

     As my wife and I lay in bed this morning (our 8-year-old daughter snuggled between us), an alarming thing happened.
     The lights went out. The ceiling fan rotated slowly to a halt. It was a power outage and we, along with thousands of others around the Dallas Metroplex, would be "trapped" for one more day indoors because of an ice storm and frigid temps.
     The first thing that entered my mind was my laptop and cell phone, and how much battery power I had left for the day. I thought about wireless access, and how a lack of it would mean no connection to e-mail, work, and the outside world ALL DAY LONG!
     I thought about how tragic this was for my children, that their poor souls would have no XBox, no Internet computer games, no television, and only limited battery life on their iTouch devices.
The stories they can tell their children one day.
     I thought that we might spend an afternoon like the Waltons, or maybe the Swiss Family Robinson. We would play Scrabble or charades, or work on my 12-year-old son's Rube Goldberg project for science class. Maybe we would even read books or other primitive activities.
     And then I awoke from the dream. The ceiling fan and lights came back on. The television and Xbox weren't that far behind. And of course I am back-and-running on the Internet.
     It's back to life as usual in the Keffer household.
     And there was such potential for something different in our lives today.

Thank You for City League Athletics

     It started when we moved from Upstate New York to Texas in 2004.

     Our boys had played Little League Baseball in Weedsport, NY, and naturally wanted to sign up for a Little League team when we moved. But when we arrived at the first practices, I soon learned this wasn't the Little League I had grown up with. 

     First of all, in Texas they play a fall season as well as a spring season, which I think is pretty cool.

     Each boy brings his own glove, hat, batting gloves, and bat. Nothing unusual. This is the way we did it when I was a kid, except the league provided all of the bats and gear (which the coach lugged to the field in a green, canvas, drawn-string sack with balls and extra gloves at the bottom).

     But these kids did not have your ordinary bats. These were $200 bats with "pop" in them, and they were stored in personal, $80 baseball bags that contained extra gloves, bats, and sometimes personal catcher's gear. It would be nothing to drop $500 at Academy Sports to fit out one kid for baseball season, if you went all the way. 

     Practices were held mostly at the ball fields, but sometimes they were held in the backyard of one of the kids on the team. You see, it wasn't unusual for a dad to buy and install a pitching machine and a 30- to 40-foot nylon-netted hitting cage right in the backyard. 

     And if you really wanted to be a competitor on this team, you needed to play simultaneously on a second team, called a Select Team. You pay $1,000 to $2,000 per season, and your kid gets to travel several weekends a month to play in tournaments against other Select Teams.

     Now, I am not knocking Texas. The baseball story here is the same as in many other parts of the country. And I don't mean to judge kids or parents who choose to play on Select teams. Families who go the Select route spend meaningful time together when they travel to these tournaments. My nieces, in fact, play on Select soccer teams in north Dallas and have done remarkably well. I am very proud of them.

     To be honest, I am probably even a little jealous that I cannot afford to sign each of my kids up for a Select baseball or football team, or that as a pastor I do not have the freedom to "take off" on Sundays and support my kids at the ball field.

     I simply want to say thank you to city leagues that still offer opportunities for kids to play at the "amateur" level. As a Dad with a finite source of income, I say thank you for $75 registration fees that include a team shirt, a team hat, and a field to play on. I say thank you that my kids can play games that take me no more than 15 from my front door on weeknights and Saturdays, and that never play on Sundays.

     I don't know if my kids will be the next Manny Ramirez or Albert Pujols, but I am thankful that they can still enjoy a great sport and dream of great things like the rest of them.

     Let's play ball!

Still Here, Still Waiting for Bread

    It has been over three months since my last blog entry.
    I apologize. I was doing missionary work in the Congo and had no access to a computer.
    Just kidding.
    Actually, I have been alive and well in Plano, Texas, and have just been neglectful and, well, uninspired.
    The overriding content for my blog is on simple living. I plan to do my final doctor of ministry project on "Living More Simply in a Consumer Culture." It will be an 18-month journey, once I get approval this summer.
    But for the last four months I have been swept away by an elective project on the Daily Prayer Service. This project -- along with my transition to pastoral ministry at Grace Presbyterian and our family's move to North Texas -- has occupied all of my energy. I feel as if I have had zero time to reflect upon simple living projects in my own life.
    So alas, I am trying to get back on track with my simple living blog. It will contain reflections on how I am trying to embrace in my life what Thomas Merton calls "Living Well."
    I will share my thoughts and reflections about the consumer culture we live in, and the unique challenges facing Christian disciples who find themselves living in this culture. I will share reflections on my own daily living. And of course, the blog will contain personal ramblings.
    I make no promises about what I will write about or how often I will post, but I endeavor to be more faithful and regular in my reflections and postings.
    As I embark on this journey, my family continues to wait for our house to sell. Also, my wife continues to seek a fulfilling vocation that can add to our family income.
    If you are a praying person, I ask you to pray for our family, as we continue Waiting for Bread (just as we were in my last post in early October).
    Peace to you. Mark

Waiting for Bread

     God is faithful.
     My heart is moved to say these words, even as my prayers for the sale of our home in Beaumont have not been answered in the ways I have asked.
     The scriptures (Matthew 7:9-10) instruct us to "ask in Jesus' name,"and those petitions will be granted. "Which of you, if his child asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake?"
     The Prayer Team at our church has been faithfully lifting up our petitions (as have my wife and I) over the past two months. We have asked -- at the Prayer Team's request -- to pray for specific things like bread and fish. We prayed for a certain percentage of our asking price and for the house to sell on a certain timeline. And now, we are past that timeline.
     A part of me wants to say my prayers were ineffective and that the Scripture passage did not hold up to be true. But the Spirit reminds me of some good things this morning:
     One. God is not my vending machine, who will give me stuff when I pop in a quarter or quote a passage of Scripture. God is God. God makes the decisions and answers prayers the ways he sees fit.
     Two. God is not bound by my sense of chronos time. God does not wear a stopwatch or operate by the Gregorian calendar.
     Three. God is aware of my needs and the needs of my family. God will not give us a stone or a snake when we have asked for bread and fish. God will provide for the sale of our home.
     Four. Prayer is critical in this process. God is deepening our dependence upon him. God is bringing more and more people into the process of prayer for this specific request. God will be glorified as more and more people join in on this process.
     Five. We don't have it so bad. There are other prayer needs in the world far more critical than ours. As I write this, I am sitting on the back porch of my father-in-law's home on a cool, 70-degree morning in Texas, drinking a bold cup of coffee and relaxing with the family on a day off. That does not mean my prayer need is not important to God, but I realize that God is already providing for my needs and the needs of my family.
     These are just a few of my reflections on a prayer journey of mine.
     Do I want the house to sell ASAP? You betcha.
     Is our family feeling the pinch as we await its sale? Yes.
     But still I say that God is faithful.
     The bread is coming.