God and the 9-5 Culture

by Jonathan Harrison

Dead in the shower at 21 years old. That's how London authorities found Moritz Erhardt last month. Shortly after the story of the banking intern hit the news, rumors began to spread that Moritz had worked 72 straight hours before collapsing in the shower at his London flat. In the two weeks prior to his death, Moritz reportedly pulled 8 all-nighters. If you believe the rumors, Moritz Erhardt literally worked himself to death.

I don't work in the financial industry, so I don't know what part of banking required Moritz to work an inhuman number of hours. However,everyone knows someone like Moritz. Everyone knows the person that works an inhuman amount of hours in the office for the sake of being successful in their career. I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting to be successful, but I also have to ask: "What's so magical about spending so much time at work?"

Most sane people will answer that question with "Idk." However, work tends to make a large number of people insane. In the case of Moritz, if the young man knew that the internship would kill him, he probably would have tried to get more sleep or contemplate a career change; however, he didn't know the internship would kill him, and he probably envisioned a very lucrative career making $250,000+ working for the financial sector of a well known banking company. 

This industry clearly equates monetary worth with time spent working in the office, and while I can't speak for banking sector, I've seen the exact same mentality among my peers at work and in life. For some, the time you spend at work directly correlates to the amount of work you complete: if you leave early to avoid driving in the snow, it means you're lazy and don't want to sacrifice yourself for your job; if you're not willing to stay an extra hour to finish an arbitrary project, maybe they should find someone who will; and if you can finish the same amount of work in two hours that most people achieve in eight hours, you should stay the full eight hours and complete four times as much work as everyone else.

Wait. What? How does this even make sense? Worst of all, a lot of people who think this way consider themselves to be Christian. They claim to worship a God who took a day off. Never mind that computers and the internet have made 9-5 illogical. Never mind that idolizing time spent at work rewards people for not working (if you have be there nine hours, why spend the whole time working? You won't be rewarded for working harder or smarter). Never mind that excessive time spent at work minimizes time spent with family, time spent praying, time spent helping feed the homeless, etc. Idolizing time spent at work ignores the fact that we worship a God that made it one of His ten principle commands to not work 14.28% of the week. How does that make sense, and how can Christians ignore this fact?

For what it's worth, ask yourself what you're doing, why you're doing it, and what you mean to accomplish. The second most recorded regret of those on their death bed was working too much.  Maybe God took the day off for a reason? Who knows. As one of my coworkers told me a few months back "If you make work your idol, it will eat you alive." For some people, like in the case of Moritz Erhardt, this is more than just a cliche statement, but a very stark and real reality. 

Jonathan Harrison recently started coursework to earn his MBA (not a joke). He is the author of Marketing for the Good and wants to give back by teaching nonprofits how to use marketing to improve the world. Follow him on the twitter at @jonateharrison.

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.
 
You might also like:  

• Kentucky Football and God
• God and Meteors
• Life Imitates Art Imitates Life: Why Broken is Compelling and Normal is Boring

Kentucky Football and God

by Jonathan Harrison

The world of sports tends to be a bastion of superstition. Many unsuccessful teams blame misfortune on curses. Most teams gets lucky once a every other decade so if you're team doesn't, then they must have pissed off the owner of a goat (The Chicago Cubs), traded Babe Ruth to finance a Broadway show (The Boston Red Sox) or done something else so malicious that supernatural powers continually punish them in the most ironic way.  

While the basketball team of the University of Kentucky has been successful for decades, the SEC has pummeled University of Kentucky football for decades. Since the 1980s Kentucky has owned the second and third longest losing streaks to a single team (Tennessee and Florida respectively). Kentucky snapped the first losing streak at 26 games on November 26, 2011 when they used a wide receiver to play quarterback. The second losing streak still stands, perhaps they should try punting on every down.

During the 26 years that Kentucky lost to Tennessee, Kentucky found every way imaginable to lose: they lost in triple overtime on missed ten-yard field goals and they lost by huge blowouts (59-0 in 1994). Before the streak was snapped in 2011, I had never been alive to witness Kentucky beat Tennessee in a game of football. After 26 years, superstitions reigned supreme. Most Kentucky fans thought that a higher power was punishing Kentucky football for running off Bear Bryant in the 1950s. We didn't deserve to win in football if we couldn't keep the most successful college coach of 20th century. Apparently God really likes houndstooth.

I prayed on the day that Kentucky beat Tennessee. I prayed hard. "Lord. They've won 26 years in a row. Show us grace and mercy by letting us beat them once every 26 years." Of course, I had prayed the same prayer the last weekend in November since I was old enough to understand how football works. God remained silent.  

In the beginning, I figured that God was either cruel or putting off gratification until losing to Kentucky meant Tennessee would miss out on a national championship. Justice would be sweet. By the end of the streak, I came to the conclusion that God didn't care about the outcome of a football game or how it affected the thousands and thousands of people who idolized winning to the extent that it came between them and their relationship with God. Clearly, God has never heard "Rocky Top" sung by 70,000 UT fans after Kentucky lost to Tennessee on the last play of the game or He would smite the city of Knoxville off the map for their idolatry.

In all seriousness, why do casual fans pray more for the outcome of a game than for the people playing the sport? Football is a rather violent sport, so praying for the players would seem intuitive. Why do we care so much about a bunch of people adhering to contrived rules? Why do the actions of a bunch of 18-21 year old males dictate the happiness of so many people? And why do we believe that God has such a big influence on something so arbitrary?

I think we feel that since we care about the outcome of the game, then God must have an overwhelming interest in it as well. I don't know enough about the nature of God to reflect on how much God cares about Kentucky beating Tennessee in football. I assume that the angels sang for a whole week after it happened, but Tennessee fans probably believe that God showered them in love by letting Tennessee continue winning year after year after year. Logically speaking, God can't be partial to one sports team over another. Unless it's the Green Bay Packers, but I digress.

You can apply this same lesson to any competitive arena. Academia, job promotions, etc. We're all built to want to outlast everyone else, which is what makes the gospel so revolutionary. Not only does the most powerful being in the universe care about us, but God, almost paradoxically, seems to care more for the poor and less fortunate (e.g. Kentucky Football). The entire idea of getting ahead or being better doesn't exist in the Kingdom of God. If you want to be great, you must serve. If you're judging your success by wins and losses, then you've failed. Trust me, I know. I'm a fan of Kentucky football, I know something about failure.

Jonathan is a former aspiring librarian who has recently decided to take up farming because Paul Harvey's ghostly voice made it sound so wonderfully noble. He also feels compelled to buy a Dodge pickup. I'm sure the two are unrelated. You can follow him on Twitter @jonateharrison.

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

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• Consuming Manti Te'o
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God and Meteors

What a pretty ball of fiery destruction!

by Jonathan Harrison

Do you remember when a meteor blew up over Russia, and it was crazy? I do. Granted, the meteor exploded almost a month ago, but in a fast paced world where the news runs 24/7, we tend to have a short memory for anything that doesn't involve politics. "What do you think about the sequester," tends to elicit more responses than "What you think about the ten-ton meteor that blew up over Russia?" Doesn't something seem a little wrong with that statement?

Scientists repeatedly tell us that we're in the middle of a cosmic shooting gallery, and yet 99% of people never reflect on our inter-stellar vulnerability; otherwise we would do something to avoid being caught off guard by massive rocks from space slamming into the Earth. 

For many Christians, if you were to ask them about the chances of a meteor destroying the world, their repeated refrain would be, "If God wants it to happen, then it will happen," which I find delightfully ironic, since this implies that God's providence is inversely proportional to the amount of control we wield in a particular arena.

For example, let’s imagine you move into a friend's house, and you discover they leave the front door wide open at night. You ask them why, and they respond, "God is in control. If God wants us to get robbed, then we’ll get robbed." Now imagine that when he left the door open, instead of someone robbing your house, the consequences included the destruction of the entire world. And imagine that, despite this fact, your friend remains headstrong about leaving the front door wide open.

Meteor that hit Chelyabinsk, Russia

And there you have my point.

Mixed-metaphors aside, God’s providence doesn't typically prevent burglars from passing through open doors, so why does God being in control suddenly protect us from Texas-sized meteors? The human race should view Chelyabinsk as a wakeup call, but unfortunately humanity fell back asleep five seconds after the alarm went off. A ten-ton meteor blew up over the earth. We have videos to prove it. Yet we don't care enough to do anything about it, despite the fact that the potential negative consequences mean the destruction of the human race.

Am I saying that we should have less faith? No, but if we believe that we are called to “be fruitful and multiply,” tracking meteors in order to deal with the threat they pose seems a valid enterprise. What I am saying is this: maybe my problem isn't with the meteors, but with how we view providence. 

On some level, it's nice when people say, "God is in control when it comes to ten-ton space rocks,” but if they’re going to rely on God’s providence in this instance, I prefer them to be consistent. I’d rather people take that viewpoint towards everything (even toward the question of locking their doors at night), than choosing piece-meal what's within God's control and what's not. Either God controls the ten-ton space rocks and the the security of your front door, or he doesn't. You can't pick and choose. 

So the next time a crazy guy like me talks your ear off about meteors for twenty minutes, take just a moment, and think deeply before you choose to reply, "If it happens, it happens." Because he might just ask you, "Shouldn't you feel that way about everything?" 

Jonathan Harrison is currently sitting in the meteor-proof bunker he dug in his back yard. He's wearing a tin-foil hat and believes that Facebook is a government conspiracy to have the docile masses voluntarily turn over all of their personal information (which is pretty genius if you think about it). You can find him on Twitter at @jonateharrison.

You can also follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

Life Imitates Art Imitates Life: Why Broken is Compelling and Normal is Boring

The stereotypical disheveled man.

by Jonathan Harrison

Somewhere in an American suburb, a man shuffles up to a whitewashed house and awkwardly pushes the doorbell. After a few minutes, another man opens the door (he looks like he just got off work), he looks at the fellow and says:

"What do you want?"

They're not friends. The disheveled man blinks a moment at the owner of the house and says "Is [blank] home?" Eventually, the woman in question comes to the door and looks at the disheveled man. They talk. She tells him, in no uncertain terms, to never come back to that house. She says that they are over, that they were over a long time ago. 

The disheveled man turns around; he shuffles off. The plot of the movie we're watching goes with him, while the owners of the house continue on with their lives, unperturbed by our voyeurism.

It's a movie cliche that you've seen a hundred times: a ne'er-do-well returns to the woman he treated poorly only to find that she's with someone new who treats her much, much better. I've always hated this cliche. In every instance where this takes place, the sympathetic figure is always the perpetrator and not the victim. We kind of hate the owners of the house because they have it all figured out, while the broken protagonist is the person we identify with. Why is this?

Your normal-ness makes me sick!

The owners of the house will probably go back inside and have a mutually edifying conversation filled with lots of amazing insights about the nature of the woman's ex and how much better she is now than back then. It almost makes me sick just thinking about it. That same night, the homeowner will probably spend his time doing something useful like completing a project for work while she reads some piece of contemporary literature. It makes me nauseous. Day in. Day out. The same perfect-couple life. It sounds like something NBC would air now that 30 Rock is over and they've stopped being weird.

We love watching conflict. It's a general rule of screenwriting that every scene must have some sort of conflict or you risk boring the viewers. It's part of the reason that domestic bliss is hardly ever portrayed in any sort of drama. There might be some conflict as part of the day to day grind, but ultimately happy people are boring to watch.

Why do we love watching conflict, yet do our best to avoid it in our daily lives? Why are we so fascinated by people whose lives stand on the brink of catastrophe? 

I've often contemplated this, because, if anything, we're called to a life of healthy relationships, of service, of forgiveness. These are things that exist sparingly in our entertainment. If a couple spent the entire show forgiving each other, there wouldn't be much to watch. Yet which life would we rather live if we had the choice?

I also wonder about the precise amount of influence these media representations have on our lives. No one is going to say that we learn everything we need to know about marriage from Mad Men, but I also think some people are more prone to that influence than others. 

Jonathan, was this the conversation?

When I broke up with a girl in college, the entire conversation (verbatim) came from an episode of Dawson's Creek. I discovered this the next morning, because the show was on at work and I was shocked to overhear Pacey and Joey reenacting the same conversation I'd had the night before. Needless to say, my ex was an ardent fan of Dawson's Creek, and I (I soon discovered), was as woefully unprepared for relationship drama as former Mighty Ducks star Joshua Jackson.

Sometimes I wonder if we learn more about how to live life from entertainment than we do from each other, from our family, or our other relationships. Art is an imitation of life, but at the same time, life has to imitate art, otherwise we would claim that we are devoid of influence, which isn't true. Although we are incapable of measuring the influence art has on our lives, it must have some. 


Yet, art tends to portray extremely broken lives, lives that many of us live, but few openly claim to emulate. It's the fascination with this brokenness that has always, in turn, fascinated me. We don't love our brokenness, but we love to witness it in the lives of others (particularly if those others are fictional; or maybe not: sometimes we can't help but watch the brokenness on display in reality television in marathon fashion). Brokenness is the stuff of our entertainment; my question for you is, why?

Jonathan is a former aspiring librarian who has recently decided to take up farming because Paul Harvey's ghostly voice made it sound so wonderfully noble. He also feels compelled to buy a Dodge pickup. I'm sure the two are unrelated. You can follow him on Twitter @jonateharrison.

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology. 

Contact us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.

On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 5 - Star Wars and Theologians

by Ben Howard

Happy (still) Epiphany everyone! I hope you all enjoyed celebrating Jesus' baptism this morning!

Now, on to the podcast.

In Episode 5, Jonathan, Leigh and I compare theologians to all the characters in Star Wars. Along the way we'll talk about popes, Ronald Reagan, the Spanish Inquisition, and Mad Men. In addition you'll hear some terrible attempts at impersonations, a few misguided attempts at history and I'll mistakenly reference Ludwig Wittgenstein instead of Wolfhart Pannenberg thus bringing shame on my friends and family. If you've ever wanted to know who the Luke Skywalker of Christianity might be, or whether George Lucas is God, then you're probably a crazy person, but you'll also enjoy this podcast.

You can download the podcast here. Or you can subscribe to the podcast by searching "On Pop Theology" in the iTunes music store. If you download it through iTunes, please be so kind as to rate and review the show. We want to know what you think and it helps the show to grow.

Also, please "Like" the On Pop Theology page on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @OnPopTheology.

Finally, if you want you can stream the podcast here:

 

Peace,

Ben

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

Also, you can subscribe via email or RSS feed on the top right hand corner of the page.

 
If you have any comments, questions or if you're interested in writing for On Pop Theology please email us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.

On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 4 - The Sexist Part About the Mice

by Ben Howard

Happy Epiphany everyone! Since Christmas is now officially over, you are finally allowed to take down your decorations. If you took them down before now...*shakes head*.

Alright, on to the podcast.

In Episode 4 Jonathan, Leigh and I discuss Disney Princesses, sexism in Cinderella, Pride and Prejudice, why the Little Mermaid is terrible, angry step-mothers, Beauty and the Beast, the effect of Disney movies on children, the perfection of a Disney prince, the modern day fairytale of the Bachelor/ette, watching TV on mute, being friends with animals, morally responsible entertainment, rooting for the villain, the false duality of good and evil, and humanity in South Park and The Simpsons. We also have a lot of awkward silences. Enjoy!

You can download the podcast here. Or you can subscribe to the podcast by searching "On Pop Theology" in the iTunes music store. If you download it through iTunes, please be so kind as to rate and review the show. We want to know what you think and it helps the show to grow.

Also, please "Like" the On Pop Theology page on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @OnPopTheology.

Finally, if you want you can stream the podcast here:

 

Peace,

Ben

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

Also, you can subscribe via email or RSS feed on the top right hand corner of the page.

 
If you have any comments, questions or if you're interested in writing for On Pop Theology please email us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.

On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 3 - Saint Justin of Bieber

by Ben Howard

Happy (almost) New Years everyone!

In Episode 3 of the On Pop Theology podcast co-host Jonathan Harrison and I talk about the end of the world (ya know, back before it didn't end), the popularity and dating life of Taylor Swift, whether or not Ke$ha is satirical, the graduation ceremony I missed to record the podcast, an eschatological playlist, the New Sincerity, and the threat to Justin Bieber's future sainthood. It doesn't make a ton of sense, and there isn't any actual theology, but it was incredibly fun and I hope you enjoy!

You can download the podcast here. Or you can subscribe to the podcast by searching "On Pop Theology" in the iTunes music store. If you download it through iTunes, please be so kind as to rate and review the show. We want to know what you think and it helps the show to grow.

Also, please "Like" the On Pop Theology page on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @OnPopTheology.

Finally, if you want you can stream the podcast here:

 

Peace,

Ben

You can follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

Also, you can subscribe via email or RSS feed on the top right hand corner of the page.

 
If you have any comments, questions or if you're interested in writing for On Pop Theology please email us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com 

The Sayings of the Desert Fathers

by Jonathan Harrison

I feel I have to tone down the cynicism and snarkiness for today's selection since it's all about peace, silence, and joy. I find it kind of hard to be cynical about that.  

The Sayings of the Desert Fathers compiles a list of, you guessed it, short sayings by a group of men and women who lived in the Egyptian desert anywhere from the fourth and sixth centuries (that's a very basic overview). A lot of these sayings are spiritually uplifting tidbits that go something like this:

"He also said, 'When God wishes to take pity on a soul and it rebels, not bearing anything and doing its own will, he then allows it to suffer that which it does not want, in order that it may seek him again.' "

I find that to be true and good advice for your spirituality, and I'm sorry that I didn't write down the actual desert father that said it. However, you also have sayings like this one:

"He who gorges himself and talks with a boy has already in his thought committed fornication with him." -Abba John the Dwarf

What???? I have to admit I wasn't expecting anything like that from this book, but TSofTDF is full of such sayings. This book is definitely not your Barney & Friends version of spirituality. The desert fathers knew sin, knew that they were sinners, and weren't afraid to talk about pedophilia (among other things).  

I have to admit, when I first saw the word "fornication" I thought it was some vague metaphor for some obscure thought that ripped you away from oneness with God for a few seconds. Of course, then I read the story of the monk who, to paraphrase, approaches his spiritual father, says "I want to commit fornication," and then returns to his cell to find a woman he doesn't know laying (lying?) on his mat before he subsequently runs away screaming into the wilderness. Yea, fornication means low-down and dirty sex.

Which brings about another point: the more prominent the desert father the more in touch they were with the enormity of their sins. The book is full fathers--men who fasted every day, never stopped praying, and lived lives of extreme asceticism--forgiving horrible sins on the basis of "Who am I to judge?" I think that is incredibly beautiful and sorely lacking in the world today (I'm including myself in that one). There is something about reading the lives of certain saints that puts you in your place spiritually.

So yes, I would say TSofTDF is spiritually uplifting. It's filled with things that shock you, and it's also filled with things, like most spiritual books, with which you don't agree.  Take this little joyful anecdote:

"There was at Scetis with Paphnutius a brother who had to fight against fornication and he said, ‘Even if I take ten wives, I shall not satisfy my desire.’ The old man encouraged him saying, ‘No, my child, this warfare come from the demons.’ But he did not let himself be persuaded and he left for Egypt to take a wife. After a time it happened that the old man went up to Egypt and met him carrying baskets of shell-fish. He did not recognize him at all, but the other said to him, ‘I am so and so, your disciple.’ And the old man, seeing him in such disgrace, wept and said, ‘How have you lost your dignity and come to such humiliation? No doubt you have taken ten wives?’ And groaning, he said, ‘Truly I have only taken one, and I have a great deal of trouble satisfying her with food.’ The old man said, ‘Come back with us.’ He said, ‘Is it possible to repent abba?’ He said that it was. And leaving everything, the brother followed him and returned to Scetis, and thanks to his experience he became a proved monk."  -- Paphnutius

I had to quote it because I don't think any reader would believe a paraphrase. The way I see it, and I'm fully aware that I could be missing something here, a monk wants to have sex (which my secular self thinks is a perfectly OK desire), so he goes off and finds a wife. Later he runs into his spiritual father who asks him, "Why do you look so horrible?" Dude says, "My wife eats so much that I can barely work enough to feed her," and the spiritual father is like "Leave her and come back to the mountain." 

So the dude leaves his wife and goes back to being a monk. Which makes me wonder: "What about the poor wife? Isn't marriage a sacrament?" Among other things. But hey, a monks got to do what a monks got to do.

Before you think I'm being all unforgiving on the desert fathers, I have to say that The Sayings is something that needs to be read intensively, i.e. one of those books you could take to a desert island. Normally I would have read something this short in a few days, but I could run into a saying that would make me put down the book and think, I mean really think, for a long period of time. I ran into things which had never occurred to me before (a pretty rare occurrence), and at times the reading itself was transcendent. I'll leave you with a few of the things I wrote down.

"Abba Sarmatas said ‘I prefer a sinful man who knows he has sinned and repents, to a man who has not sinned and considers himself to be righteous.’"

"He also said, ‘Unhappy is the man whose reputation is greater than his work.'"
-Abba Silvanus

"The same abba said 'A dog is better than I am, for he has love and he does not judge.'"

"When the demons who are at war with men tried to make him afraid, suggesting that, after all this, he would still go to hell, he replied, ‘Even if I am sent there, I shall find you beneath me.’ "

-Isidore the Priest (pwnt!)

"She also said, “It is good to live in peace, for the wise man practises perpetual prayer. It is truly a great thing for a virgin or a monk to live in peace, especially for the younger ones. However, you should realize that as soon as you intend to live in peace, at once evil comes and weighs down your soul through accidie, faintheartdness and evil thoughts. It also attacks your body through sickness, debility, weakening of the knees, and all the members. It dissipates the strength of soul and body, so that one believes one is ill and no longer able to pray. But if we are vigilant, all these tempations fall away."
Amma Theodora*

Goodnight & Peace
Jonathan

*Also needs to be stated that the book contains the sayings of several desert mothers who were a part of the society at the time. 

You can follow Jonathan on Twitter @jonateharrison. He also writes at Dried Humor and Libranding.

God and Hummingbirds

by Jonathan Harrison

I'm a somewhat avid birdwatcher. In 7th grade I gave a class presentation entitled "Why you should watch birds!" Consequently, I didn't get my first kiss until I was 18, so I've been duly persecuted for both my beliefs in loving God and watching birds. My love for birds even snagged me a retail job working at Wild Birds Unlimited for 2 1/2 years, where I learned a lot more about birds and bird watching then I ever thought possible. So yea. I like to watch birds.

The end of August or early September marks the end of hummingbird season for the American south. Once the first cold snap hits, hummingbirds begin their (rather speedy) trek back to southern Mexico for the winter, and the majority of us have to wait until spring to see them again. Right now Hummingbirds are fattening up for the trip, so their activity tends to spike during the late summer early fall.

Outside of the humidity, one of the few things I dislike about the American south is that we have only one species of hummingbird: the Ruby-throated Hummingbird.*  The Ruby is a beautiful bird, and you've probably seen one or two flying around flowers and feeders this summer trying to snag as much nectar as possible before making the long trip down to Mexico.

If you're lucky, you'll see hummingbirds also try to kill each other. Hummingbirds, the Ruby-throated included, are some of the most territorial birds in the animal kingdom. They hate each other. As any avid hummingbird watcher will tell you, watching hummingbirds fight over backyard feeders provides some great entertainment. The hummingbirds believe that if they share a feeder  they'll run out of nectar and starve to death. Being mean is a survival mechanism, and when you're that small you have to fight for everything.


Yet, somewhat ironically, the hummingbirds do not realize that the nectar never runs out.  The US is filled with people that sit around all day waiting to refill their hummingbird feeders. Fighting for a feeder actually hurts more than it helps, yet still they continue trying to kill each other and wasting tons of energy.

I used to think that hummingbirds were stupid, but then I thought, "do humans act any different?" As an American, I can't help but think we act a little bit like hummingbirds. In this country God has given a seemingly unending amount of resources, yet instead of trying to love each other, we hoard and tear down the competition. Our pantries are full of food, yet people in other countries, and in our own streets, go hungry every day. Although the hummingbird nectar is unending, we're much more content knowing that we have it all to ourselves rather than sharing the feeder and risk running out of juice.

I'm not sure if the metaphor stands under intense scrutiny, but you have to admit that we have a lot more in common with the little birds than we'd like to admit. Thankfully we have a higher nature, and although we need lots and lots of help, at least we have hope. So there you go. This weekend, don't be a hummingbird, and love your neighbor as your self.

Jonathan Harrison would like to remind you of that time when Nashville ran out of gasoline and there would have been plenty if we all shared but instead everyone tried to fill up as many tanks as possible lest the shortage get worse and it actually made the shortage much, much worse.  Anyways.  He's on twitter, and writes over at Dried Humor and Libranding.  And he will cut you if you touch his sweet tea.  Just try him. 

*Rufous hummingbirds have been known to get confused and winter over in the deep south and sometimes make it up to Tennessee.  Every winter at Wild Birds Unlimited we'd generally have one customer claim that they had spotted a Rufous in the middle of winter.