Eat Your Vibabins
I visited my older sister and her family for a week right after school got out. She has two precious little girls, Siona and Lily. Siona—the older one—is almost three and a real character. She became my shadow for the time I was there, wanting to participate in even the smallest task. Now, a friend of mine sells a nutritional supplement that consists of fruits and vegetables miraculously compounded into capsule form. She has gifted me with a year’s supply. I’m trying to faithfully take my vitamins every morning. These “vibabins” fascinated Siona, who naturally wanted to help me take them. Each morning, she guarded the three capsules in her fist and walked to the kitchen with me for a glass of water. One by one, she guided each capsule into my mouth and would watch, entranced, as I took some water and swallowed. The ritual never got old for her. If I forgot, she would remind me that I needed to take my vibabins.
I wish my approach to daily Scripture reading could match Siona’s enthusiasm for vibabins. Every once in a while, I’m given a sweet reminder of the well-balanced nutrition that Scripture represents. I love the summers, because the pace of life is slow enough that I can wake at leisure. The perfect cup of coffee and the opportunity for some real food open my days. This morning’s meal, Psalm 69, remains one of my favorites, which is what made me think on this whole topic of spiritual vibabins. Upon first glance, David writes only of persecution and judgment. He longs for God to “darken the eyes” of his persecutors, so that they cannot see, and for God to “make their loins tremble continually.” Sounds, um, slightly unpleasant.
As so often with Scripture, though, David’s plea is more complex than a simple plea for God to avenge him. The whole psalm bleeds with desperation. He feels like he’s trapped and he has no faith in his ability to rescue himself. I have not been persecuted, no, but I do experience a desperate sense of drowning on a pretty regular basis. I’m beginning to recognize that same desperation in others and I suspect it is part of the human condition. David’s articulation of this familiar state of being comforts me. It’s David, after all, the man after God’s own heart! Not only that, but he’s all too aware of his own sin. He worries that his sin may bring shame to God before Israel. David worries that those who seek God may be brought to dishonor through his sin. That’s a fear I understand, that my sins may cause others to become disgusted with Christians and with God.
What I love most about this Psalm is that David’s desperation has a constant companion: faith in the steadfast love of God. Even as David worries that the pit will swallow him, he asks God to “draw near to my soul.” Not only does he plead for help, but he makes these firm statements, “For the Lord hears the needy and does not despise his own people who are prisoners.” David ends the Psalm with a profound hope. He commands all of heaven and earth to praise the God who will save Zion, rebuild it, and bring all his people to inhabit the city, dwelling in the presence of their God. Every time I read this Psalm, I come away blessed, fed, and comforted.
As I was sitting here basking in the sensation of a full spiritual stomach, I started thinking about how we Christians so often do to Scripture what we Americans have done to food in the last fifty years. We’ve slaved to make our apples redder and rounder through artificial means (so that more people will buy them), succeeding ultimately in removing the flavor. Or we process and bleach wheat, and add preservatives to bread, so that it will look whiter and last longer (so that more people will buy it), succeeding ultimately in removing the nutritional value of the grains. We’ve added colors and preservatives to everything, to make it look more attractive to consumers, or to disguise “food product” as food. Now, of course, we have thousands of studies under way to try to investigate the health consequences of all these additives. Maybe they cause cancer or autism or brain tumors or….
The church is no different. We have wanted to make Christ more palatable to “consumers.” So we have experimented with a wide variety of additives. In this culture, they seem to take one of three forms. We love the warm and fuzzy additive, to make everyone feel good. Even Borders and Barnes & Noble have Inspirational sections filled with books that have hearts or flowers or chicken soup somewhere on the cover. The insides are filled with snippets of Scripture and hallmark variety poetry, all designed to make you feel special. I would put the commercial I saw this week for a new compilation of the Top Christian Power Ballads (including, but not limited to, "Friends are Friends Forever" and "Butterfly Kisses" and probably a Petra song or two) in the same category.
Then there’s the potentially more dangerous prosperity additive. I think immediately of a couple prominent congregations whose leaders are currently under investigation for their misappropriation of funds. What’s dangerous about this particular additive is the way it folds the tempting American Dream into the promises of God. Who doesn’t want to hear that God wants them to be rich and is only waiting for them to have enough faith to ask? I even had to argue with a former student recently, held captive by this dream, to establish the truth that Jesus was not materially wealthy. In the same way that some food companies have completely discarded actual food—say American cheese, to market cheese product to us in the form of American cheese slices, some church leaders have completely discarded the Jesus of Scripture to try to sell us Jesus product. He comes out looking a little flat and tastes plastic.
Finally, there’s the entertainment additive. Not believing that the meat of Scripture can stand on its own and speak to people, draw them in with the power of Truth, we resort to gimmicks. I’m reminded of an interview I saw a few years ago, with a woman whose job title is “Food Makeup Artist.” She uses makeup to dress the food that will be used in commercials. Her specialty is making up fast food, like burgers. She talked about how she uses glue on the outside of burgers, so that they’ll look like they’re hot off the grill. Lipstick for the tomatoes, green food coloring for the lettuce, along with some hairspray so that it’ll be frozen in a position of crispy freshness. I’ve never watched a commercial for McDonald’s or Burger King the same way. I often wonder if that’s how a lot of people outside the church watch what we do. Maybe at some point they’ve come across one of the thousands of books or shows that teach church leaders how to reach people, how to suck them in. Now, every time they hear a pastor, they think about all the behind-the-scenes tricks that pastor has learned. I recognize that unpacking this gets tricky, because there’s definitely a legitimate place for engaging people with the Truth. But engagement is different from entertainment.
Anyway, all this to say that in the same way I have a thing for organic peaches or cherries, I have a thing for the unvarnished nutrition Scripture provides. It tastes so much richer and fuller and hearty than the plastic ways we’ve tried to “improve” on God’s words.
I visited my older sister and her family for a week right after school got out. She has two precious little girls, Siona and Lily. Siona—the older one—is almost three and a real character. She became my shadow for the time I was there, wanting to participate in even the smallest task. Now, a friend of mine sells a nutritional supplement that consists of fruits and vegetables miraculously compounded into capsule form. She has gifted me with a year’s supply. I’m trying to faithfully take my vitamins every morning. These “vibabins” fascinated Siona, who naturally wanted to help me take them. Each morning, she guarded the three capsules in her fist and walked to the kitchen with me for a glass of water. One by one, she guided each capsule into my mouth and would watch, entranced, as I took some water and swallowed. The ritual never got old for her. If I forgot, she would remind me that I needed to take my vibabins.
I wish my approach to daily Scripture reading could match Siona’s enthusiasm for vibabins. Every once in a while, I’m given a sweet reminder of the well-balanced nutrition that Scripture represents. I love the summers, because the pace of life is slow enough that I can wake at leisure. The perfect cup of coffee and the opportunity for some real food open my days. This morning’s meal, Psalm 69, remains one of my favorites, which is what made me think on this whole topic of spiritual vibabins. Upon first glance, David writes only of persecution and judgment. He longs for God to “darken the eyes” of his persecutors, so that they cannot see, and for God to “make their loins tremble continually.” Sounds, um, slightly unpleasant.
As so often with Scripture, though, David’s plea is more complex than a simple plea for God to avenge him. The whole psalm bleeds with desperation. He feels like he’s trapped and he has no faith in his ability to rescue himself. I have not been persecuted, no, but I do experience a desperate sense of drowning on a pretty regular basis. I’m beginning to recognize that same desperation in others and I suspect it is part of the human condition. David’s articulation of this familiar state of being comforts me. It’s David, after all, the man after God’s own heart! Not only that, but he’s all too aware of his own sin. He worries that his sin may bring shame to God before Israel. David worries that those who seek God may be brought to dishonor through his sin. That’s a fear I understand, that my sins may cause others to become disgusted with Christians and with God.
What I love most about this Psalm is that David’s desperation has a constant companion: faith in the steadfast love of God. Even as David worries that the pit will swallow him, he asks God to “draw near to my soul.” Not only does he plead for help, but he makes these firm statements, “For the Lord hears the needy and does not despise his own people who are prisoners.” David ends the Psalm with a profound hope. He commands all of heaven and earth to praise the God who will save Zion, rebuild it, and bring all his people to inhabit the city, dwelling in the presence of their God. Every time I read this Psalm, I come away blessed, fed, and comforted.
As I was sitting here basking in the sensation of a full spiritual stomach, I started thinking about how we Christians so often do to Scripture what we Americans have done to food in the last fifty years. We’ve slaved to make our apples redder and rounder through artificial means (so that more people will buy them), succeeding ultimately in removing the flavor. Or we process and bleach wheat, and add preservatives to bread, so that it will look whiter and last longer (so that more people will buy it), succeeding ultimately in removing the nutritional value of the grains. We’ve added colors and preservatives to everything, to make it look more attractive to consumers, or to disguise “food product” as food. Now, of course, we have thousands of studies under way to try to investigate the health consequences of all these additives. Maybe they cause cancer or autism or brain tumors or….
The church is no different. We have wanted to make Christ more palatable to “consumers.” So we have experimented with a wide variety of additives. In this culture, they seem to take one of three forms. We love the warm and fuzzy additive, to make everyone feel good. Even Borders and Barnes & Noble have Inspirational sections filled with books that have hearts or flowers or chicken soup somewhere on the cover. The insides are filled with snippets of Scripture and hallmark variety poetry, all designed to make you feel special. I would put the commercial I saw this week for a new compilation of the Top Christian Power Ballads (including, but not limited to, "Friends are Friends Forever" and "Butterfly Kisses" and probably a Petra song or two) in the same category.
Then there’s the potentially more dangerous prosperity additive. I think immediately of a couple prominent congregations whose leaders are currently under investigation for their misappropriation of funds. What’s dangerous about this particular additive is the way it folds the tempting American Dream into the promises of God. Who doesn’t want to hear that God wants them to be rich and is only waiting for them to have enough faith to ask? I even had to argue with a former student recently, held captive by this dream, to establish the truth that Jesus was not materially wealthy. In the same way that some food companies have completely discarded actual food—say American cheese, to market cheese product to us in the form of American cheese slices, some church leaders have completely discarded the Jesus of Scripture to try to sell us Jesus product. He comes out looking a little flat and tastes plastic.
Finally, there’s the entertainment additive. Not believing that the meat of Scripture can stand on its own and speak to people, draw them in with the power of Truth, we resort to gimmicks. I’m reminded of an interview I saw a few years ago, with a woman whose job title is “Food Makeup Artist.” She uses makeup to dress the food that will be used in commercials. Her specialty is making up fast food, like burgers. She talked about how she uses glue on the outside of burgers, so that they’ll look like they’re hot off the grill. Lipstick for the tomatoes, green food coloring for the lettuce, along with some hairspray so that it’ll be frozen in a position of crispy freshness. I’ve never watched a commercial for McDonald’s or Burger King the same way. I often wonder if that’s how a lot of people outside the church watch what we do. Maybe at some point they’ve come across one of the thousands of books or shows that teach church leaders how to reach people, how to suck them in. Now, every time they hear a pastor, they think about all the behind-the-scenes tricks that pastor has learned. I recognize that unpacking this gets tricky, because there’s definitely a legitimate place for engaging people with the Truth. But engagement is different from entertainment.
Anyway, all this to say that in the same way I have a thing for organic peaches or cherries, I have a thing for the unvarnished nutrition Scripture provides. It tastes so much richer and fuller and hearty than the plastic ways we’ve tried to “improve” on God’s words.
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