Of Hamsters and Men

We continue the tale of my transition from carnivore to herbivore...

Two comments capture the feelings that followed this decision.

The short one first. Kronk astutely notes, "It's all coming together."

But some people prefer G. K. Chesterton to animated Disney characters. In his book Orthodoxy Chesterton described his Christian conversion experience as one where two seemingly incompatible "machines" came together. Miraculously, they came together well.

...The spike of dogma fitted exactly into the hole in the world — it had evidently been meant to go there — and then the strange thing began to happen. When once these two parts of the two machines had come together, one after another, all the other parts fitted and fell in with an eerie exactitude. I could hear bolt after bolt over all the machinery falling into place with a kind of click of relief. Having got one part right, all the other parts were repeating that rectitude, as clock after clock strikes noon. Instinct after instinct was answered by doctrine after doctrine. Or, to vary the metaphor, I was like one who had advanced into a hostile country to take one high fortress. And when that fort had fallen the whole country surrendered and turned solid behind me. The whole land was lit up, as it were, back to the first fields of my childhood."

Kronk said it more succinctly, but Chesterton said it better.

After I threw in the towel and decided to give in to the idea of going vegetarian, incongruity after incongruity fell down before me.

Sources of guilt fled. Paradoxes unraveled. Decisions made sense.

Examples? There are many, but most can be anticipated from things I've already written in recent days. (Don't repeat yourself, Pilgrim!)

But two (I promise, just two) thoughts remain that I want to get down.

I'll break them up into two blog post, this then being the first of two.

Don't delegate unconscionable tasks to others.

This principle has helped me navigate some tough topics and grey areas in life. Consider torture, for instance.

We all know the old question. "Is it OK to torture one person in order to find out the location of a hidden bomb and thereby save a city?"

I used to answer this question with a reluctant Yes. It's a very unsavory job, but if it must be done, so be it. For the good of many...

A few years ago I abandoned this line of reasoning after realizing that I could not and would not do the dirty work myself.

And if that is the case, how can I ask someone else to do it for me?

It's another topic for another day to discuss why I myself can or cannot torture a terrorist "for a good cause." My point here is simply that if that is my conviction, I can't ask others to do it for me, either.

So I'm opposed to torture. Period.

All that to say... There are some jobs that are unpleasant.

And then there are jobs that disturb your soul.

I could collect garbage for a living. No problem. It's just a smelly job.

Killing animals for a living would trouble my soul, however.

Fact is, I have a very hard time killing animals. The practical matter of putting a dying hamster out of its misery has proven difficult enough. We paid a vet to do it for us last year. Spent $80 to give the hamster a more peaceful exit.

So I find it hard to kill a dying hamster. What about a healthy one?

And oh-by-the-way?

A hamster weighs half a pound and has rocks pebbles for brains.

Yet for years someone out there has been killing and cutting up much larger and smarter animals. Healthy ones. All day long. For me.

Perhaps it doesn't bother them. But some assassins don't mind killing people, either. The conscience I am responsible for is my own.

For decades I've been complicit in this uncomfortable arrangement.

But today I am free of it. And that feels good.

To be continued....

Worthy Is The Lamb! (Not The Loaf...)

This blog continues from where I left off....

This momentous (for me) move toward a vegetarian lifestyle certainly got my brain riled up. Things I never thought twice about before suddenly presented themselves for reconsideration.

One notion blew my mind for the sheer fact that it had been there in front of me about a thousand times — literally. And I never saw it.

It's called the Lord's Supper. The bread and the wine. I've probably taken the Lord's Supper a thousand times in my life. Maybe more.

But here's the thing I never noticed before. When Jesus instituted the Lord's Supper, he was presiding over a Passover meal. That means that meat was on the menu that night. Lamb, to be specific.

This occasion presented Jesus with a perfect opportunity to make (for his frequently confused disciples) a tangible statement about a very important symbolic truth.

After Jesus' resurrection, St. Paul will later (1 Corinthians 5) recognize Christ as "our Passover lamb" — and that is what he is.

John the Baptist testified to this same reality when Jesus began his ministry — when Jesus first approached John at the Jordan river.

John 1:29
The next day John saw Jesus coming towards him and said, ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!

So the pivotal moment has arrived. Jesus is about to institute the Lord's Supper. The Pascal Lamb is presiding over a Passover meal.

And...

And...

He grabs for the bread instead.

Go figure?

Now it must of course be said that Jesus is also the bread of heaven. The bread of life. Absolutely. He said so himself. This is also true.

But John the Baptist didn't call Jesus the Loaf of God.

The Apostle Paul didn't call Jesus our Pascal Loaf.

No one on earth has got this matter confused. What about in heaven?

Nope. Not there either. In Revelation Jesus is not wandering around heaven as a resurrected loaf of bread. Not even symbolically.

In heaven too Jesus is revealed to be the resurrected Lamb of God.

To quote just one of many references, let's savor this one:

Revelation 5:15
“Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain,
    to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength
   and honor and glory and praise!”

Jesus is described as a lamb about twenty-five times in Revelation.

On the night of the Lord's Supper, there was lamb meat on the table.

Why on earth, then, did Jesus reach for the bread?

Well, meat is more expensive. Did Jesus chose cheaper ingredients so as to make the Lord's Supper more affordable to all?

Perhaps. But a tiny bite of meat once a week doesn't cost much, and is this really the moment to be stretching the food budget?

In any case, Jesus chose the bread, and it wasn't because the lamb was too far down the table. We ought to think about why he did that.

The book of Hebrews spends no small amount of time arguing that the sacrifices in the temple are no longer necessary. Jesus was the last, perfect, sacrifice. No further animal sacrifice is necessary, ever again.

For me this thought invites a follow-up question. Is it possible that Jesus intended to be the last sacrifice not merely for the sake of mankind, but also for the sake of the animals?

Hard to say. Scriptures do not answer this specific question. However I cannot help but wonder if Jesus intended for us to eventually work out the fact that we're free now to stop killing animals. Prior to his death, that simply wasn't an option for believers.

If that thought was on Jesus' mind, it's perfectly clear why he reached for the bread. After Good Friday, we'll never need meat again.

If that thought was not on Jesus' mind, we're left with a bit of mystery as to why he didn't reach for the lamb sitting there on the table.

As I said, these are just wondering questions. I don't have answers.

But I will address an obvious objection. Someone may ask, "If that's what Jesus wanted, don't you think he would have mentioned it?"

There is an easy reply to that. The Bible does not explicitly address every topic that should be of interest to God-fearing Christians.

Preserving rain-forests and managing water resources should concern us all, but the Bible is understandably silent on these topics.

What's worse, the Bible is sometimes tantalizingly vague even on highly charged moral issues that were relevant both then and now.

For example, Jesus did explicitly condemn slavery. We know he didn't like it, though, because we know who Jesus is.

Many Christians believe Jesus was a pacifist, but he didn't condemn the centurion for his line of work. He only commended his faith.

So Christians worked out some values and beliefs only in hindsight — and sometimes (e.g., pacifism) without unanimity among believers.

So, Yes, Paul certainly made it clear that meat is still permissible (1 Corinthians 8) — but on the other hand he gave instructions to slave-owners that did not include setting their slaves free.

Working out the true convictions of New Testament personalities can be tricky at times, because they focused like lasers on the highest priority: building the Church.

It's clear enough from the book of Philemon that St. Paul was definitely looking forward to a day when slavery would be no more, but that was not the highest item on his agenda each day.

Likewise, we do see Jesus eating fish in one post-resurrection appearance. But Jesus wanted to meet Peter, and Peter wasn't at the local falafel joint. He was fishing.

Would Jesus have preferred a different menu that day? Perhaps. But in any case it's clear that Jesus too had bigger fish to fry. He needed to reinstate Peter and remind him of his calling to build the church.

...Specifically, to stop catching fish. And start feeding sheep.

I'm playing with words, to be sure. It's food for thought all the same.

To be continued...

Little Encouragements Along The Way

So this blog series began two Sundays ago with me taking a stroll in the sun before church began.

I began the stroll a meat-eater and finished it a vegetarian.

But let's face it. I'm only eight days into this experiment. Time will tell if I have the resolve to hold to the decision.

So it was encouraging to get what I took to be a nod of approval from the Lord in His sanctuary.

The service began, as always, with a few hymns. One of them turned out to be Amazing Grace. I can't recall when we last sang it in church. Six months ago? A year? Well ain't that just a co-inky dinky?

But it gets better.

The sermon was titled, Ruling With Christ in Heaven and on Earth — which doesn't exactly immediately make you think of vegetarianism unless it's already on your mind. However the pastor spoke about our calling as Christians to care for the earth, and read these verses aloud:

Genesis 1:26-28
Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

    So God created mankind in his own image,
    in the image of God he created them;
    male and female he created them.

God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

Sound familiar? They did to me. They were the very verses I had just been noodling over in the park a few minutes earlier.

And then the coup de grâce...

During the service a PowerPoint image went up on screen with details on an upcoming church barbecue. It included a picture of a grill loaded with chicken, hot dogs and burgers, all looking quite tasty.

I'm trying (and failing) to recall the last time I saw cooked meat up on screen during a church service.

Ah, well. One thing is clear. If if I hold fast to this decision, it won't be on account of the support I get from fellow churchgoers, friends or family. They're all enjoying the meat.

Now to be fair, I should note that after I shared my decision with my oldest son, he didn't disparage me. Not a bit. He simply asked, "When we have our Father's Day barbecue, can I have your steak?"

Ah, well. But a very encouraging thought struck me later.

To be continued...

Lord, Make Me A Vegetarian! But Not Yet...

So, as noted in my prior blog, I realized finally that where I want to eventually go is a place where meat is no longer on the menu.

And it's rather obvious, isn't it? When things here on Earth are finally made right, creatures won't be eating each other. Duh.

As soon as this stunning no-brainer ran through my head, I realized how blindingly obvious the point is. In the Garden of Eden, we were eating greens. And the animals trusted us.

Animals are scared to death of us now, and rightly so. We eat them.

But a tantalizing scripture passage anticipates a fully redeemed world.

Isaiah 11:6-10
The wolf will live with the lamb,
    the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling together;
    and a little child will lead them.
The cow will feed with the bear,
    their young will lie down together,
    and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
The infant will play near the cobra’s den,
    and the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest.
They will neither harm nor destroy
    on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord
    as the waters cover the sea.

Gee, sounds nice! When does it happen? Funny you should ask. This passage falls smack-dab in the middle of a messianic passage referring to Jesus. Jesus is the one who will usher this day in.

Well, friends, Jesus has already visited us once, and this vision is still only a vision. Will it become reality when Jesus returns again?

Revelation 21:1-5 (abridged)
Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away... And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

At this point, I began to feel a bit Augustinian. He's St. Augustine now, but as a youth he was a happy rebel enjoying wine, women and song — with a strong emphasis on the 'women' part.

When Augustine began to feel the call of God on his life, he cried out, "Lord, make me chaste! But not yet."

My cry echoed his. Lord, make me a vegetarian! But not yet.

Anyone with enough time on their hands to read all my recent blogs might mistake me for a rabid rabbit hugger or something. Far from it. I love the taste of bacon. I'm sorry to say good-bye to steaks.

But if Eden is what I miss...
If Isaiah's vision is what I wish for....
If I'm looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth...
If I yearn for the day when death will be no more...

Shouldn't I be keen to participate less in the death industry today?

What's stopping me from taking that first step? Not much. Two things.

1) The fact that I have a taste for meat, and
2) The fact that everyone else around me does too.

And as I walked along the path on that sunny Sunday morning, I realized that these were not very compelling reasons to wait.

My thoughts returned to John Newton. No wonder it took him so bloody long to shed his affection for the slave trade. It was his way of life. His source of income. And everyone around him was engaged in the same game. No friends saying, "Stop!"

It's hard to go against the flow. All the more so when it's pleasant.

Thankfully other pioneers have made the transition somewhat easier for me. Vegetarian diets and recipes are not hard to find these days. I'm not exactly in the vanguard.

But now that the decision is made, I'm an eager recruit.

Hopefully for good.

To be continued...

The Noose Tightens

This blog continues on the heels of...

So. We're four blogs posts in, and I still haven't gotten to the reason I'm going to give vegetarianism a try. I'll do so here.

In the prior blogs I covered a number of good reasons to give up meat. I've had all of these thoughts run through my head before, however, and I ignored them all for a decade or two. What changed?

This. As I was strolling along on that sunny Sunday morning a week ago, a jumble of thoughts came together in my mind in a new formation, and for me the game was suddenly over. I was beat.

A bit of background info... I'd been watching some nature shows with my young daughter in recent weeks, and they really got me thinking.

One special was on elephants. Elephants are so advanced in their thinking that they stop to investigate (with keen interest!) the bones of elephants that they discover.

Elephants will ignore a large hippo skull, but when researchers placed elephant tusks and skulls in their path, they examine them carefully.

Elephants care about their dead. Even elephants they never knew.

Wow.

Another special covered dolphins. These critters are bloody smart too. One with a fishing hook stuck on its fin was caught on camera in Kona, Hawaii. It approached a human diver seeking help. The diver helpfully removed the hook, and the dolphin took off free.

Wow.

Then there was the special we saw on wolves, which were recently reintroduced to Yellowstone National Park.

It's not a pretty sight to watch wolves hunt, but after the wolves were eradicated from Yellowstone, the mega-fauna at Yellowstone were eating everything down to scrub. With nothing to stop them.

So they brought the wolves back to Yellowstone. The wolves proceeded to save the park by eating their way through a lot of meat.

Wolves are an important part of the Yellowstone ecology. But that doesn't make it any easier to watch them do their work. Thankfully, the camera pans back (a lot) right after their prey hits the ground.

So as I strolled through the park that Sunday morning, recent images and questions ran through my head in a jumbled mess.

What separates us from the animals? And what's the difference between wolves eating elk and me eating a steak?

The more I noodled these questions, the more I felt I was being crowded into a tighter and tighter corral. What makes us different?

Well, one of the major differences between us and the animals is that we take care of them. In lots of ways. We have screwed up this planet plenty, to be sure — but it's also true that we are unlike any other animal on it in that we're aware of our role here. We're in charge, and it's up to us to destroy this planet. Or restore it.

Elephants and dolphins don't face this dilemma.

That's a sobering thought. But then another idea sidled up to the first.

We're also the only animal on the planet that can and does willfully change diet for the sake of other animals and plants.

Yes. The wolf lives or dies on meat. So far as I know, wolves don't go vegetarian. Certainly not voluntarily, at any rate. But we can. We don't have to. But we can.

What's more, we won't screw up the environment if we abstain from meat. In fact, as noted earlier the environment would greatly improve if we did.

Compare that to what happened in Yellowstone when we got rid of the wolves. This broken world runs more smoothly if the predators eat meat.

Except for us predators.

Yes, we're the only animal on earth that faces this dilemma.

And then the scripture verses started to pile on.

Genesis 1:26-31 (Plan A)
Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”

    So God created mankind in his own image,
    in the image of God he created them;
    male and female he created them.

God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” And it was so.
God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning—the sixth day.

So in the beginning we humans had a specific job and a specific diet. We were to care for the earth. Rule over all animals. And eat greens.

Now this is, of course, hardly earth-shattering news to anyone who reads their Bible carefully.

But as well all know, things went downhill pretty quickly. It got so bad that God felt it necessary, in the days of Noah, to wipe the slate clean. Begin again. That's when the rules changed.

Genesis 9:1-3 (Plan B)
Then God blessed Noah and his sons, saying to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the earth. The fear and dread of you will fall on all the beasts of the earth, and on all the birds in the sky, on every creature that moves along the ground, and on all the fish in the sea; they are given into your hands. Everything that lives and moves about will be food for you. Just as I gave you the green plants, I now give you everything.

So the game changed after the flood waters receded. God himself changed the rules! And the new rules are? Animals will now fear humans. And we're free now to eat them.

So God said it's OK to eat meat. Isn't that the final word? All good? Well, yes. We have permission to eat meat. This much is true.

But then a question hit me like a huge sledgehammer.

When the Earth is fully restored, Pilgrim, what will it be like?

The answer is certainly not the days of Noah.

It will be a lot more like the Garden of Eden.

To be continued...

Can We Talk About Me Now?

My most recent blog noted that the American meat habit cannot be sustained at the global level.

We can eat a lot of meat. Provided the rest of the world does not.

Well, let's face it. Our car and gas consumption don't work too well on a global scale either. But that doesn't stop us.

Strangely (or not so strangely) enough, the fact that China and other formerly quiescent nations are starting to behave like Americans just makes the global climate problem all the more alarming.

We who are alive today are observers of a great new experiment in which the world starts to act more American. It's not pretty.

And yet... Americans continue to live pretty much as we have.

We know we have a problem. And yet. Our habits don't change.

But this is not a blog on climate change. I'm just noting that we Americans have a long and cherished habit of ignoring the global implications of our own behavior.

So arguments for a vegetarian lifestyle based upon pleas for us to start consuming energy at a more Ethiopian pace... aren't going to fly.

Sadly, Americans don't care enough about animal or global welfare.

So let's talk personal welfare.

Needless to say, when Chistians discuss personal welfare and vegetarianism in the same sentence, an old Bible hero has a habit of popping up. Daniel.

It's a fact that my wife picked pretty much all the names of our children, but I gave my youngest son's his middle name: Daniel.

I've always loved Daniel. He's the poster boy of many wonderful things, the very least of which is the vegetarian lifestyle.

So as I wandered through the park on that sunny Sunday morning, Daniel certainly figured in my internal (and heated) debate.

Daniel 1:11-15 (abridged)
Daniel then said to the guard... “Please test your servants for ten days: Give us nothing but vegetables to eat and water to drink. Then compare our appearance with that of the young men who eat the royal food, and treat your servants in accordance with what you see.” So he agreed to this and tested them for ten days.
At the end of the ten days they looked healthier and better nourished than any of the young men who ate the royal food. So the guard took away their choice food and the wine they were to drink and gave them vegetables instead.

Now let's agree up front that Daniel was (apparently) not opposed to eating meat per se so much as he was concerned to not eat defiled foods — such as meat sacrificed to idols.

So it's not like Daniel was a fan of Bambi or a charter member of PETA.

But whatever his motives, the outcome is what it is. What proved true for Daniel is known to be true for everyone.

The vegetarian lifestyle is better for your health.

Plain and simple.

And to top it off, I've noticed that salads cost less than steak.

So we can let Rome (and our globe) burn...

But might we perhaps consider giving up meat for our own sake?

Ah... The American answer is, more often than not, No. We're the fattest souls on the globe, and we want to stay that way.

And me? What about me?

Well, I'm not overweight.
Not a candidate for heart disease.
I'm skinny.
And I can afford all the meat I want.

So if I don't care about the chickens, cows and pigs....
If I don't care about the globe...
If I'm not concerned for my health...
If I've got money to burn...
What's to keep me from my juicy steak? (Because I do still want it.)

But then I revisited the notion that God had an opinion on the matter.

That's when my Sunday morning stroll got serious.

To be continued...

Do Not Try This On Your Own Planet

So far in this series on vegetarianism I've thrown out two assertions:
1) It's not right to treat animals as less than animals.
2) Treating animals well doesn't give us the right to eat them either.

However I'm not fool enough to think that these arguments alone will convince a lot of people to change their ways. I myself managed to skate by those two thoughts for more than a decade.

I liked my meat too much to give up a cherished habit that easily.

But those two thoughts didn't come alone. They were just appetizers.

The full course had a lot of meat to it. (Hardy har har...)

Yes, the reasons to take this leap kept piling on into my head this past Sunday while I walked about a park on that sunny morning.

I was preparing to again ignore pleas for the welfare of the animals...

...but then I was assaulted by a plea for the welfare of mankind.

There is a certain category of beliefs that drives me nuts: the beliefs that would produce disastrous results if everyone lived by them.

For example, consider immunizations.

I've known a few people who declined to give their kids polio shots. Their reasoning was, "The shots have a 1 in 2,000 chance of doing XYZ harm to my child. And besides, nobody has polio anymore."

I find that kind of thinking very irritating. It's the free-rider problem.

The reason, the very reason, nobody around here has polio is because we've all been subjecting our children to these shots.

When polio has been wiped from the planet, we can stop. Until that day, people who don't inoculate their kids are free-riding on the backs of those who do. If everyone took the free-riding route, polio would return to every continent within a generation.

Or how about this one: family planning.

I have known couples who decided to have piles of kids. And that's fine. What troubles me is when someone who has made that decision argues that we all should have "all the children God gives us."

Meaning... no birth control.

There's a gentle rebuke to this assertion, which is to simply point out that if all humanity took this view, we'd destroy ourselves and the entire planet pretty quickly. Large families worked when infant, child and adult mortality rates were much higher.

But if we all had 10 kids and none died? The global population would first soar... and then crash. Starvation, disease and war would soon provide practical solutions to our insanity.

So, No. No, no, and No. A few stragglers can certainly practice and preach the "as many children as God gives you" insanity with very little harm done.

Widespread adoption of this lifestyle? It would destroy the planet. Period.

Where am I going? Let's return to the meat industry. And guess what?

It only works if just the Americans practice American eating habits.

If we attempted to replicate the American diet across the globe, the consequences would be no less dire than if every American and every European decided to have 10 kids. And didn't give them polio shots.

A diet that includes lots of meat would lead to global Armageddon.

If everyone did it.

Why? The details can be found elsewhere, but in short it's because it takes more than ten pounds of corn to produce one pound of beef.

Much of the globe has enough problems as it is, keeping starvation at bay. And that's with people eating stuff like corn, wheat and rice.

Imagine what kind of land and water resources would be required to give everyone the American burger. In quantity.

Let's talk about turning the entire Amazon forest (all of Brazil and more) and turning it into farmland. And that.... that would not be enough to give the world the McDonald's habit.

Insanity.

So as I walked through the park a few days ago, I was reminded (though I didn't want to hear it) that I myself was practicing what I hate to hear other people preach: a habit that cannot be safely practiced by anything more than a spoiled and wealthy minority of the global population.

So no, I don't think history will look that kindly on our current American diet of meat or the industry that caters to it.

I didn't want to hear that.

But I did.

And the thoughts didn't stop there.

To be continued...