Serving Enemy Pie

Last Sunday during my message on the relationship between Jesus and Judas, I read from the book "Enemy Pie" by Derek Munson. It's a clever and poignant story about a boy who learns the most effective recipe for turning a No.1 enemy into a best friend. In a nutshell, it's the gospel in the form of a children's story about the power of love and friendship. Jesus sums up the message of the book when he says, "You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven."

If you're like me, I had for years read the command to love your enemies and thought to myself, "Well that's easy to say, not so easy to do Jesus!" Because it probably goes without saying that one of the most difficult things to do in life, if not completely counter intuitive, is to love the very people who have hurt us or are trying to harm us, or both. But this interpretation of moral high ground is founded on the assumption that what Jesus seeks is that we love our enemies from the inside out, that to love our enemies means we dig deep and find within ourselves a change of heart, a feeling of good will toward the stinkers of the world.

But reading the "Enemy Pie" story has helped me to see that maybe that's not what Jesus had in mind at all. Surely it is a noble and admirable act if you can muster up love toward your enemy from the inside out, that you are so transformed by the love of Christ that a fountain of compassion and forgivenesss erupt from within you toward those who have hurt or betrayed you.

I'm just not one of those people.

But what if even Jesus understood that such transformation was more exception than the rule? That he wasn't just calling for an exceptional display of saintly willpower but something more akin to a power of resignation? In that case, maybe what Jesus was alluding to was not unsimilar to what the boy's father had in mind. The boy's dad was wise and told his son that in order for the pie to work, you had to first be nice to your enemy for a whole day.

Many years ago as a pastoral intern learning to work with couples and learning to be a new husband myself, the best advice I ever got had to do with those times when the fire has gone out in the relationship. When you've lost that loving feeling. Yes, you can hope the feelings just return by themselves. But what do you do when that's not the case? How do we get the romance back when the feelings are no longer there? And this is what works: "Act as if." The key to making your way back to love is to "act as if..." Act as if you care and the caring will return. Be nice to your spouse, admire her, affirm and appreciate her. Certainly, it's preferable (and more romantic) when the feelings come gushing out from within that lead naturally to affection, admiration, and respect. But what if they don't? That's when you have to "act as if." Sometimes the feelings are there and the deeds follow - great, that's how it should be. But at other times, the deeds have to come first, with the hope that the feelings follow. And as studies have shown, the feeling often do arrive! (John Gottman, University of Washington research scientist on marriage and family writes extensively on this subject in his book, "The Seven Principles of Making Marriage Work").

In "Enemy Pie," the young boy takes his dad's instruction to heart and begins to treat his enemy with kindness...only to be surprised when the strange feelings of enjoyment come upon him: "This is not working, he says, I'm not supposed to be having fun with my enemy!" The boy "acted as if" - and his feelings toward the enemy had changed. By the time it came time to serve up the "pie of poison," the boy no longer had a best enemy, but a best friend.

I'm wondering if that's not, at least in part, what Jesus had in mind when he said those impossible words, "Love your enemies." Sure, we can hope feelings of forgiveness and goodness are present first before moving toward loving action. But in doing so, I also think we can run the danger of waiting forever for those feelings to materialize - and end up never doing anything. But what if we understand Jesus' words as the call to act first, to actually love our enemies precisely because we don't, when the feelings of love still escape us? Maybe what Jesus knows is that if we risk to act, our hearts will follow. "Act as if." I realize this is not a guarantee. Nor something to be tried in every situation. Nor easy. I realize this is still impossible without a touch of grace. But at least it's a movement, at least it is a step in the direction of love.

I can't help but think that when Jesus asked his disciples to prepare the Passover meal, a meal that would become the Last Supper, it was his version of serving up "enemy pie." With his betrayer present at the table, Jesus offers Judas the bread and wine just as he did the other eleven, in a last-ditch effort to keep him in the circle of love. Jesus does this knowing full well that what he is serving is not enemy pie at all, but a meal of grace. In Jesus' eyes, through this one act of love, Judas wasn't an enemy, but friend.

They Blew Up the Cannons!

On Tuesday they were there, and all of a sudden on Wednesday they were gone! Apparently Don Martin of AM570 and Clear Channel have blown up the Loose Cannons for good. For me, it is a very sad and disappointing day. More than television, radio benefits and is reliant on the familiarity of its voices. That's why the inexplicable firing of Ross Porter as one of the voices of the Dodgers was such a travesty. He's not just an announcer, but a nostalgic voice of a city and team that links past with the present that cannot be replaced. I once heard Kurt Rambis's wife say after the death of Chick Hearn that what she'll miss the most was the reassurance of his voice. Even if she wasn't watching the game, but could hear Chickie Baby's voice on the simulcast, she knew somehow things were alright with the world. The Cannons had as similar effect for me. But over the past few years, since moving over to 570, the station has been constantly changing its format and personalities, letting go of mainstains like Hacksaw Hamilton, who with the Cannons anchored and built up the station for years. Of course it's always been Steve Hartman's show, but the most recent trio of Hartman, Mychal Thompson, and Vic the Brick - with their on-air bickering, bantering, and over-the-top histrionics - always made for an entertaining drive during the day when that's what you needed. Wow, Nic Harcourt and now this - LA radio suddenly lost its voice...and soul, too.

Firsts

On Obama's first day as president, I couldn't help but think of Jesus' oft-spoken words, "The last will be first, and the first will be last." Of course that is the eternal promise, when God will make all things right, the sweet song of justice. It is the rare occasion, on the other hand, in the here and now, to glimpse this prophetic inversion, when those on the bottom of society, the bottom of the system, the bottom of agendas find their way to the top. Rarer still is to bear witness to such an event in the dramatic terms we did before the entire world. This of course was the reality that made Tuesday the historic day it was. During the inaugural coverage, while the first couple were making their way back to the White House after the parade, it was noted how amazing it was to think that the very walls of the place the Obama's now call home was itself built by hands and sweat of slaves not long ago. Maybe more than anything, this is the first of hopes upon us.

Get On Your Boots

Review of U2's new single GOYB from the forthcoming No Line On the Horizon.

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By all accounts a remarkable day! Amongst the pomp and paegantry of the day, often most poignant were the things unspoken: When Barack and Michelle Obama were greeted at the steps of the White House by President and Mrs. Bush prior to the inauguration. Seeing all the former presidents escorted out of the tunnel to their seats at the Capitol, followed by the solidarity president elect on his way to becoming commander-in-chief. Then there was the send off of the Bush's by the new president for a final fly-by over their old stomping grounds before heading back to Texas. But the ceremony itself was surprisingly unspectacular. There was the fumbling of the actual swearing in that made these important people all the more human. But the invocation and benediction seemed more a rehearsal of the moment than a prayer for the new first family, and the poetry reading was painfully anticlimatic and uninspiring, probably in part due to its placement in the ceremony - after the president's inaugural speech!? Then there was the speech. Obama was his usual riveting self, but this speech was not one for the ages that his acceptance speech was on election night. Here he was sober and tough, a call to civic responsibility to all Americans while reaching across the globe to build bridges with friends as well as enemies. But I kept waiting for the momentum, the stirring that was so much a part of his speech in Chicago. I kept waiting for those quotable lines that would be repeated again and again forever that would fall down like grace from the sky. But I suppose he may have been a victim of his own brillance, his own mastery of the words, his own stunning ability to inspire. Still an unforgettable moment to be sure, but I suppose in this case, a moment that words cannot but fail to capture in its magnificence, historical signficance, and enthusiastic pride.

Inauguration Morning

As I sit and await the swearing in of Barack Hussein Obama as our next president, I realize this may very well be the most significant historical event of my lifetime. Granted I'm only 44 years old, but I have never witnessed the kind of enthusiasm, expectation, and hope in our country than has been brought on by the American people electing its first black commander-in-chief. The sight of millions of people on the Mall is nothing short of breathtaking. Though the promise of change is not new ground for a president (they all promise such), you have to like a guy who is rumored to want to convert the white house bowling alley to a basketball court! But Obama represents a different kind of change. For one, he's the first president of a new generation. Along with significance for African Americans in this country, he is a president for a multicultural, hi-tech, grassroots generation of people who have a different worldview about race, a different way of communicating, and a different expectation of a president. Which leads to what hopes to be the biggest kind of change he may bring to Washington - a change of culture in American politics. If he is what he appears to be, Obama brings a quiet confidence without the arrogance of the most recent administration, a reassuring and welcomed intelligence, a cooperative spirit, and the promise to shoot straight, with the willingness to admit when he is wrong. With a new generation awaiting its new president, America expects nothing less than authenticity in its leaders. With that, Obama may very well be the only kind of president who can unify, inspire, and involve the country for such a time as this. Let's hope he can.

Heartbreak Indeed

I realize I might be in the minority on this one, but I really dig Kanye West's latest release 808s & Heartbreak. Though not as musically adventurous as his college-themed albums, West takes a huge leap in exploring his inner world in ways seldom heard on record. On it West sounds like a man who has had his world turned upside down, which of course, he has. Recorded after the much publicized loss of his mother and breakup of a long engagement, West is completely autobiographical here, breathtakingly confessional. Instead of getting a recording after all the processing has been done, all the lessons learned, it's as if West is processing aloud and we are drawn into the very immediate, raw, dark journey with him. In the process, gone is most of the bravado and swagger from previous albums (though the jilted lover is present throughout), as is much of the sampling he's best known for, but all this without sacrificing his knack for catchy hooks and clever lyrics. It's simply a very good pop/R&B record.

An interesting thread on the album is the heartbeat you hear on every track in the drum or bass line, similar to what Brian Wilson accomplished on some of Pet Sounds. On "Say You Will," the opening track is framed by the ever-present sound of a heart monitor beeping slowly, methodically, signaling that a heartbeat does persist, if barely, but at the same time raising the question of just how long this heart will hold on? Is this a man at the end of things or is this the beginning of a life? Or both?

In the middle of the record are the upbeat "Love Lockdown" and the club-ready "Paranoid," a song as catchy, optimist and reassuring as anything he's written. But most of the record is an introspective journal of self-doubt and existential questioning. On "Welcome to Heartbreak" he ponders if life has indeed passed him bye, if he's somehow gained the whole world but lost his soul. On "Street Lights" he realizes moments are passing, even while he contemplates how unfair life has been. The result is seeing his destination ahead, but no longer certain if he wants to arrive there anymore. The fact that that West records his voice through AutoTune on most of the album creates an interesting tension, sounding more machine on a very human record.

But the showcase of 808s is the final track, "Pinocchio Story," recorded live in Singapore. It's an emotionally raw and remarkably moving song for its vulnerability and passion, stripped of any instrumentation except for sparse piano. In it West seems to be resigned that he has sacrificed a real life (one not overcome with photographers or autograph-hounding fans) in pursuit of fame and the flashing lights. "What's it feel like to have a real life?" he asks the crowd, and you feel his anguish (even if you get the sense the crowd has no idea what the song is about). By the end of the track, he is at his most intimate, offering a glimpse into his tortured soul, wondering aloud if his own ambition for the American Dream is ultimately to blame for his mother's untimely death by plastic surgery. The depth of his regret and guilt is difficult to hear in its honesty. He closes the song by faintly offering, "The wise men say...'Someday you'll find your way.'"

Standing there by himself on that big stage amongst all those people, you can't help but sense that he is utterly alone. I suppose we can ask if we should really feel sorry for Kanye West, given his usual schtick and all that he has. But like the record began, it does leave you wondering if he will find his way and what that will do for his music. And that makes for an intriguing question for the moment.