Asking for the participation of God in healing individual parishioners, in healing our parish system and in healing our communities is the job of all communities of faith. Asking for God’s healing and then being engaged in that healing are our particular callings. Doctors can use medical science and art to heal our bodies, counselors can use psychological techniques to heal emotions and psyches, economists can use principles of finance to heal our communities, but only we of faith can enlist the healing powers of God.
How do we do that?
Prayer--for ourselves and others. Intercession especially for those for whom we have been asked to pray and for the people close to us, and the people we have never met but whose stories have come to us and invite us to closer relationship with them.
Action--donations to social service agencies whose support has decreased while their demand has grown in this economic downturn. Even small donations of food and money are gratefully accepted and needed, but big donations can do a world of good for the people served by food pantries, homeless shelters, job agencies, and other social and medical services.
Direct work with the homeless, the jobless, those who are dealing with hard times--make time to be with homeless people or work with those trying to get their resume in order. Being close to those who can use a leg up helps our spiritual journeys, as we give of our time and talent, and learn to know people intimately and make relationships with them.
Be watchful--for the inbreaking of God's love, wherever you may find it, whether in families, churches, communities, and let it be known that God loves every person God has made.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The Healing Power of Christ
IV Epiphany B
During my doctoral training I met a woman from Iowa, named Patty. We bonded over the next five years while we underwent the rigors of courses, preliminary exams, and dissertation writing, and of the five people who entered our program we were the only ones who graduated with our PhD. She was a somewhat radical activist who worked in women’s health care. She had worked in women’s health centers in Iowa before coming for her degree and did her dissertation on women’s access to prevention, especially the lack of access to care for poor women.
Some years after we both graduated, Patty was working for the federal government doing this same kind of work using the huge national data bases from Medicaid patients. Then one day I got a call from her saying she was diagnosed as having herself, a rare form of cancer in women that in most cases is caught by early prevention and care, which she herself had not received. It was quite ironic.
Well in those days I was in Washington for meetings several times a year, and on my next visit, I went to see her and we talked a lot about the fact that she had refused getting care for her cancer because it would reduce her quality of life and the doctor had given her a low probability of its effectiveness.
She asked me to go with her to the healing service at the National Cathedral in Washington on Sunday night, and I agreed to go with her. I also told her that I would pray for her at my home parish of St. Michaels in Lexington at the weekly healing service we had there.
So the next three months, I prayed every week as I promised, mentioning her name during the prayers for healing and some times going up to be anointed by the priest on her behalf. I think I was believing that if I prayed hard enough, her cancer would be cured and Patty would be with us for a good long time.
Patty’s health continued to deteriorate, and the next time I saw her, she was becoming bedridden. She was being cared for by visiting nurses and hospice and her own daughter, who was a family practice physician in training, had come home to be with her. A few weeks after that visit, I called to talk to her, and her daughter told me she could no longer speak on the phone. And then her daughter called me a few days later to say that Patty had died.
The death of my friend Patty was a hard time for me and God. I thought that if I prayed long and hard enough, she would be healed. I mentioned this to friends who were parishioners at St Michaels. They helped me realize that Patty’s healing may have come in many different forms: spiritual healing, emotional healing, or mental healing, if not the healing of her body from this particular disease.
I was glad to hear that, and it comforted me to know that I had prayed for Patty’s healing, even if I had expected a different outcome. That God had perhaps another outcome in mind—-one between Patty and God that I was not privy to.
When I later was a chaplain at the hospice, I was able to use this new understanding of healing with patients who asked why they were not being healed in a way they were praying for. One man in particular was very focused on passages in the bible that said if you had faith enough, God could do anything for you. He worried a lot that his faith was not strong enough, because he was now dying.
So he and I talked about the inscrutability of God’s ways, and the different ways we can be healed. I tried to help him see where God might be giving him healing in his life. I anointed him for healing every visit I made to him. We talked about God’s gift of life and how it was a gift to me to have met him. We shared a lot of love during our visits.
That we are given the gift of life is a miracle. That we are given people around us who love us and with whom we can share a caring relationship is a gift of God’s great love for us. But at times of suffering and death, we may have questions—why is this happening? Why my loved one, or why me?
To ask these questions of God is not lack of faith, it is wanting to know God better. It is honest that we ask God hard questions, and as you know from all your relationships, honesty is a key to building trust and a deeper understanding of each other. God wants the same relationship you would have with any friend with whom you can share all your secrets. Every Sunday we pray to God for "whom all hearts are open and from whom no secrets are hid." If we have questions, God knows them, and it is best not to try to be someone who denies that they do not question God when we are confronted by hard times and loss.
In our gospel today, we see the healing love of Christ. His first two ministries in the gospel of Mark are healing ministries. These healings involve his touch. We know how important touch is in healing. There are studies done of primates who are deprived of their mother and given a wooden substitute with a milk bottle attached. These primates suffer terrible deprivation and are never really able to recover from not having been touched as babies.
We see the healing properties of massage and healing baths. There are many studies showing that people in nursing homes who are touched do better.
Healing comes in all kinds of ways. Jesus’s words were healing—he called Lazarus out of the grave and he lived. One of my favorite national leaders who was known for his healing words in Abraham Lincoln, whose 200th birthday we celebrate this week. His words especially at Gettysburg and at his second inauguration helped to heal a nation whose wounds of war ran deep. He believed that forgiveness was a key to healing a nation that had just pitted brother against brother in battles that had sustained terrible numbers of casualties. “With malice towards none, with charity for all," he asked the nation to finish the work of freeing a people in slavery and binding the nation back together.
Words and touch are the ways Jesus has taught us that heal. They heal not only our bodies but our very souls. When Patty and I went to the healing service that night, I watched as she was prayed over and touched. I know the healing words I have received in times that have challenged me, and the balm of being touched by loving hands. I have also questioned God when I was hurting, or saw a loved one in suffering and pain, wondering where the healing was. God’s power of healing is beyond us many times, but it is always there. God will always be present in our loss, our grief, our depression, whatever challenges us, whether in the words of healing or the touch of someone who loves us. And we too can be the means of healing for those around us.
Jesus begins his ministry in the world to begin the healing of the world. Let him speak to you. Let him touch you.
During my doctoral training I met a woman from Iowa, named Patty. We bonded over the next five years while we underwent the rigors of courses, preliminary exams, and dissertation writing, and of the five people who entered our program we were the only ones who graduated with our PhD. She was a somewhat radical activist who worked in women’s health care. She had worked in women’s health centers in Iowa before coming for her degree and did her dissertation on women’s access to prevention, especially the lack of access to care for poor women.
Some years after we both graduated, Patty was working for the federal government doing this same kind of work using the huge national data bases from Medicaid patients. Then one day I got a call from her saying she was diagnosed as having herself, a rare form of cancer in women that in most cases is caught by early prevention and care, which she herself had not received. It was quite ironic.
Well in those days I was in Washington for meetings several times a year, and on my next visit, I went to see her and we talked a lot about the fact that she had refused getting care for her cancer because it would reduce her quality of life and the doctor had given her a low probability of its effectiveness.
She asked me to go with her to the healing service at the National Cathedral in Washington on Sunday night, and I agreed to go with her. I also told her that I would pray for her at my home parish of St. Michaels in Lexington at the weekly healing service we had there.
So the next three months, I prayed every week as I promised, mentioning her name during the prayers for healing and some times going up to be anointed by the priest on her behalf. I think I was believing that if I prayed hard enough, her cancer would be cured and Patty would be with us for a good long time.
Patty’s health continued to deteriorate, and the next time I saw her, she was becoming bedridden. She was being cared for by visiting nurses and hospice and her own daughter, who was a family practice physician in training, had come home to be with her. A few weeks after that visit, I called to talk to her, and her daughter told me she could no longer speak on the phone. And then her daughter called me a few days later to say that Patty had died.
The death of my friend Patty was a hard time for me and God. I thought that if I prayed long and hard enough, she would be healed. I mentioned this to friends who were parishioners at St Michaels. They helped me realize that Patty’s healing may have come in many different forms: spiritual healing, emotional healing, or mental healing, if not the healing of her body from this particular disease.
I was glad to hear that, and it comforted me to know that I had prayed for Patty’s healing, even if I had expected a different outcome. That God had perhaps another outcome in mind—-one between Patty and God that I was not privy to.
When I later was a chaplain at the hospice, I was able to use this new understanding of healing with patients who asked why they were not being healed in a way they were praying for. One man in particular was very focused on passages in the bible that said if you had faith enough, God could do anything for you. He worried a lot that his faith was not strong enough, because he was now dying.
So he and I talked about the inscrutability of God’s ways, and the different ways we can be healed. I tried to help him see where God might be giving him healing in his life. I anointed him for healing every visit I made to him. We talked about God’s gift of life and how it was a gift to me to have met him. We shared a lot of love during our visits.
That we are given the gift of life is a miracle. That we are given people around us who love us and with whom we can share a caring relationship is a gift of God’s great love for us. But at times of suffering and death, we may have questions—why is this happening? Why my loved one, or why me?
To ask these questions of God is not lack of faith, it is wanting to know God better. It is honest that we ask God hard questions, and as you know from all your relationships, honesty is a key to building trust and a deeper understanding of each other. God wants the same relationship you would have with any friend with whom you can share all your secrets. Every Sunday we pray to God for "whom all hearts are open and from whom no secrets are hid." If we have questions, God knows them, and it is best not to try to be someone who denies that they do not question God when we are confronted by hard times and loss.
In our gospel today, we see the healing love of Christ. His first two ministries in the gospel of Mark are healing ministries. These healings involve his touch. We know how important touch is in healing. There are studies done of primates who are deprived of their mother and given a wooden substitute with a milk bottle attached. These primates suffer terrible deprivation and are never really able to recover from not having been touched as babies.
We see the healing properties of massage and healing baths. There are many studies showing that people in nursing homes who are touched do better.
Healing comes in all kinds of ways. Jesus’s words were healing—he called Lazarus out of the grave and he lived. One of my favorite national leaders who was known for his healing words in Abraham Lincoln, whose 200th birthday we celebrate this week. His words especially at Gettysburg and at his second inauguration helped to heal a nation whose wounds of war ran deep. He believed that forgiveness was a key to healing a nation that had just pitted brother against brother in battles that had sustained terrible numbers of casualties. “With malice towards none, with charity for all," he asked the nation to finish the work of freeing a people in slavery and binding the nation back together.
Words and touch are the ways Jesus has taught us that heal. They heal not only our bodies but our very souls. When Patty and I went to the healing service that night, I watched as she was prayed over and touched. I know the healing words I have received in times that have challenged me, and the balm of being touched by loving hands. I have also questioned God when I was hurting, or saw a loved one in suffering and pain, wondering where the healing was. God’s power of healing is beyond us many times, but it is always there. God will always be present in our loss, our grief, our depression, whatever challenges us, whether in the words of healing or the touch of someone who loves us. And we too can be the means of healing for those around us.
Jesus begins his ministry in the world to begin the healing of the world. Let him speak to you. Let him touch you.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
February Reflection
This month marks the 200th birthday of Abraham Lincoln. I have had the great pleasure to be born in one state and live in another where Lincoln has ties--Illinois and Kentucky. The more I know about Lincoln, the more I admire his leadership skills, especially his ability to be a "nonanxious presence" in the midst of great upheaval in our country.
While Lincoln was not great church-goer, he, as many in his generation did, learned to read using the Bible as his textbook, and nearly all of his major speeches reference God's guiding hand in human affairs. His act of manumission of slaves in January, 1863 was not entirely popular, even in some northern states, but he stood behind his decision, not wavering in the face of much negative feedback.
The juxtaposition in 2009 of Dr. Martin Luther King's 80th birthday, the bicentennial of Lincoln's birth and the inauguration of our first black president cannot go unnoticed for the convergence of the forward movement of our country toward justice and peace for all people. What Lincoln started, King gave his life for, and Obama has continued, shows God's hand in giving us leaders who are not afraid to do the right thing, even when their very existence is at risk.
May God continue to give us leaders who are rooted in the waters of justice that wash over us, to bring to reality the dignity of every human being.
God's peace,
While Lincoln was not great church-goer, he, as many in his generation did, learned to read using the Bible as his textbook, and nearly all of his major speeches reference God's guiding hand in human affairs. His act of manumission of slaves in January, 1863 was not entirely popular, even in some northern states, but he stood behind his decision, not wavering in the face of much negative feedback.
The juxtaposition in 2009 of Dr. Martin Luther King's 80th birthday, the bicentennial of Lincoln's birth and the inauguration of our first black president cannot go unnoticed for the convergence of the forward movement of our country toward justice and peace for all people. What Lincoln started, King gave his life for, and Obama has continued, shows God's hand in giving us leaders who are not afraid to do the right thing, even when their very existence is at risk.
May God continue to give us leaders who are rooted in the waters of justice that wash over us, to bring to reality the dignity of every human being.
God's peace,
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Info about me
Autobiographical Statement-- Joyce Beaulieu
Family background. I am the middle child of five children, an older brother (deceased) and sister, and two younger sisters. We grew up in Lomax, IL, on a farm owned by my grandfather (and his grandfather), which my father farmed. My mother worked in clerical positions and later was a postmaster. My brother and sisters and I were surrounded by family: Five aunts (three of Mom’s and two of Dad’s sisters) and my paternal grandparents all lived in within twelve miles of the farm. My parents were killed in a six-fatality auto crash in 1980, which catalyzed the binding of strong ties among me and my siblings. My primary relationship with my partner Molly sustains me daily with love and support, including the support of my vocation to the priesthood.
Important events and turning points. The most significant event in my life was the death of both my parents, my brother’s 12 year-old son and a favorite aunt in an automobile crash, which occurred a couple of weeks before I started a doctoral program in health policy at the University of Michigan. Our parents’ deaths have drawn my siblings together in meaningful and loving ways. We rely on each other for emotional bolstering in both times of celebration, such as graduations, weddings and retirements, and times of individual or family challenges, such as the diagnosis of breast cancer in our younger sister and the sudden death of our oldest sibling, Ron. I maintain our family farm with my older sister.
After confirmation in the Episcopal church, another very significant moment in my life was my experience of realizing that God made me exactly who I am and loved me just the way I am. “Coming out to God” brought me wholeness of spirit, created deeper integrity in my relationships, and made available to me the overwhelming unconditional love of my parish and my family. I was honored to be asked by my rector, and supported by the bishop of Lexington, to convene an Integrity chapter. Being convernor of Integrity opened my eyes to the prejudice and abuse experienced by many LGBT people, from their families, coworkers and employers, and in some cases, from their churches.
Prior work in the church and community. In the Methodist church I attended until age 18, I was very active in the youth group, taught Vacation Bible School and Sunday school classes, and sang in the youth choir. I have served in two Episcopal parishes as lay leader in both administrative and liturgical roles. I have sung and played guitar with contemporary music choirs. A graduate of Education for Ministry, I have served as an EFM mentor. I completed my Clinical Pastoral Education in hospice.
As a professor in health policy, I was a specialist in rural and long-term care systems, teaching health professionals, and doing research and consulting. I was a member of several state and national health policy organizations, in rural health, gerontology, and public health, working on various committees. I served on the editorial board for the Journal of Rural Health and reviewed scientific papers for many other professional publications. I was the director of the Lexington-Fayette County Indigent Care Task Force, a coalition of public and private organizations that studied the problem of health care for low-income and uninsured individuals. I have two edited books in rural health systems, and numerous publications, encompassing a range of topics, from long-term care system evaluation to public health indicator research.
As a priest in the Diocese of Lexington, I was elected to the Camps and Conference Board, and was a chaplain for girls’ summer camp. Continuing my interest in long-term care, I have served on the board of Faith in Action: Elder Outreach and, briefly, as a volunteer chaplain for AIDS Volunteers of Lexington.
Priestly roles. In my capacity as campus missioner for the Diocese of Lexington, I coordinated activities for young adults in the diocese, including a Theology on Tap program that invited area priests to speak at monthly meetings; worked with students at colleges where there was no Episcopal campus presence; and provided parishes with resources to reach out to campuses in their communities. I was priest-in-charge at St. Alban’s, a small parish with a mission to work with the campus of Morehead State University. During my time with that parish, two students were brought into the church and several adults received the rites of baptism or confirmation.
Personal traits. The gifts I bring from my professional career are writing, teaching, and administration. I am flexible, while maintaining basic ethical and moral tenets. I am extremely well organized and focus on good process for good outcomes. I always strive to keep lines of communication open and to help groups of people to work together even when they may differ in their opinions. I have done some continuing education in family systems theory in the church. I believe that all baptized Christians are leaders, evangelists and pastoral caregivers, and encourage parishioners in their particular gifts for use in furthering the kingdom of God.
Issues of church and society about which I am concerned. On the issue of sexuality, which so divides the Anglican Communion, I am hopeful. I believe that when we treat people as individuals and not as a “category,” we draw together the body of Christ in ways that are the most healing and loving. I work with LGBT Episcopalians as a priest who happens to be one of their number. I have heard several clergy speak of the problems inherent in the church “being in the marriage business,” and would hope that the issue of same-sex relationships would be encompassed in an overhaul of the church’s role in blessing of committed couples of all sexual orientations.
I continue to be concerned with the devastation of addictions on individuals and families. I believe that faith-based communities have much to offer the spiritually-based 12-step programs, as well as much to learn from these programs, which are transforming the broken lives of many.
On a third issue, I believe the church could be more visible in their work for peace and justice, especially in the area of health care. While peace and justice activity is sometimes not popular politically, we need people of vision and courage to help each of us live out our baptismal covenant to work for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being.
Family background. I am the middle child of five children, an older brother (deceased) and sister, and two younger sisters. We grew up in Lomax, IL, on a farm owned by my grandfather (and his grandfather), which my father farmed. My mother worked in clerical positions and later was a postmaster. My brother and sisters and I were surrounded by family: Five aunts (three of Mom’s and two of Dad’s sisters) and my paternal grandparents all lived in within twelve miles of the farm. My parents were killed in a six-fatality auto crash in 1980, which catalyzed the binding of strong ties among me and my siblings. My primary relationship with my partner Molly sustains me daily with love and support, including the support of my vocation to the priesthood.
Important events and turning points. The most significant event in my life was the death of both my parents, my brother’s 12 year-old son and a favorite aunt in an automobile crash, which occurred a couple of weeks before I started a doctoral program in health policy at the University of Michigan. Our parents’ deaths have drawn my siblings together in meaningful and loving ways. We rely on each other for emotional bolstering in both times of celebration, such as graduations, weddings and retirements, and times of individual or family challenges, such as the diagnosis of breast cancer in our younger sister and the sudden death of our oldest sibling, Ron. I maintain our family farm with my older sister.
After confirmation in the Episcopal church, another very significant moment in my life was my experience of realizing that God made me exactly who I am and loved me just the way I am. “Coming out to God” brought me wholeness of spirit, created deeper integrity in my relationships, and made available to me the overwhelming unconditional love of my parish and my family. I was honored to be asked by my rector, and supported by the bishop of Lexington, to convene an Integrity chapter. Being convernor of Integrity opened my eyes to the prejudice and abuse experienced by many LGBT people, from their families, coworkers and employers, and in some cases, from their churches.
Prior work in the church and community. In the Methodist church I attended until age 18, I was very active in the youth group, taught Vacation Bible School and Sunday school classes, and sang in the youth choir. I have served in two Episcopal parishes as lay leader in both administrative and liturgical roles. I have sung and played guitar with contemporary music choirs. A graduate of Education for Ministry, I have served as an EFM mentor. I completed my Clinical Pastoral Education in hospice.
As a professor in health policy, I was a specialist in rural and long-term care systems, teaching health professionals, and doing research and consulting. I was a member of several state and national health policy organizations, in rural health, gerontology, and public health, working on various committees. I served on the editorial board for the Journal of Rural Health and reviewed scientific papers for many other professional publications. I was the director of the Lexington-Fayette County Indigent Care Task Force, a coalition of public and private organizations that studied the problem of health care for low-income and uninsured individuals. I have two edited books in rural health systems, and numerous publications, encompassing a range of topics, from long-term care system evaluation to public health indicator research.
As a priest in the Diocese of Lexington, I was elected to the Camps and Conference Board, and was a chaplain for girls’ summer camp. Continuing my interest in long-term care, I have served on the board of Faith in Action: Elder Outreach and, briefly, as a volunteer chaplain for AIDS Volunteers of Lexington.
Priestly roles. In my capacity as campus missioner for the Diocese of Lexington, I coordinated activities for young adults in the diocese, including a Theology on Tap program that invited area priests to speak at monthly meetings; worked with students at colleges where there was no Episcopal campus presence; and provided parishes with resources to reach out to campuses in their communities. I was priest-in-charge at St. Alban’s, a small parish with a mission to work with the campus of Morehead State University. During my time with that parish, two students were brought into the church and several adults received the rites of baptism or confirmation.
Personal traits. The gifts I bring from my professional career are writing, teaching, and administration. I am flexible, while maintaining basic ethical and moral tenets. I am extremely well organized and focus on good process for good outcomes. I always strive to keep lines of communication open and to help groups of people to work together even when they may differ in their opinions. I have done some continuing education in family systems theory in the church. I believe that all baptized Christians are leaders, evangelists and pastoral caregivers, and encourage parishioners in their particular gifts for use in furthering the kingdom of God.
Issues of church and society about which I am concerned. On the issue of sexuality, which so divides the Anglican Communion, I am hopeful. I believe that when we treat people as individuals and not as a “category,” we draw together the body of Christ in ways that are the most healing and loving. I work with LGBT Episcopalians as a priest who happens to be one of their number. I have heard several clergy speak of the problems inherent in the church “being in the marriage business,” and would hope that the issue of same-sex relationships would be encompassed in an overhaul of the church’s role in blessing of committed couples of all sexual orientations.
I continue to be concerned with the devastation of addictions on individuals and families. I believe that faith-based communities have much to offer the spiritually-based 12-step programs, as well as much to learn from these programs, which are transforming the broken lives of many.
On a third issue, I believe the church could be more visible in their work for peace and justice, especially in the area of health care. While peace and justice activity is sometimes not popular politically, we need people of vision and courage to help each of us live out our baptismal covenant to work for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Things are not people
I am listening to Randy Pausch's The Last Lecture, a popular book about a professor who gives a last lecture--a program where the professor talks about the wisdom they have accumulated over their career, as if it were the last talk they would ever give. Except in his case, Pausch really does have only a few months to live, so the lecture takes on a much more real urgency.
A chapter of his book talks about what he inherited from his parents. One thing that struck me was the ability to separate the importance of people from the importance of things. He tells a story about a time he has come to take his niece and nephew in a ride in his new convertible. His sister admonishes the kids to be extra careful in the new car, not to get it dirty. When he hears this, Randy does not agree, and expresses his own idea about the convertible being merely a thing by deliberately pouring a soft drink all over his new car's seat in front of the children. In another story, his wife has hit one of their cars with the other car, thereby denting both cars. She is nervous about telling him when he gets home, but after she cooks his favorite dinner, she nervously breaks the news. When he hears about both cars being dented, he reacts very little. He tells his wife that as long as the cars run, there is no reason to fix the minor dents. He believes in the utility of automobiles, is not captured by the general use of cars as status symbols.
Both these stories captured my imagination. I have been tied to the sex appeal of particular cars I have owned, and I am not alone among my siblings in this tendency. I liked Randy's lack of using ownership of things as a means to bolster social class and standing. If more of us were like Randy, the auto manufacturers would have a hard time selling anything more than the basic vehicle to get us from point A to point B with the least amount of gas.
But it cannot be blamed on industry, they are merely tapping into our tendency to use things as social status indicators.
I have no fix for how to counter this tendency to trap ourselves in our stuff. I do know that Benedictine spirituality would help us learn how to live more simply, which seems part of what is needed. More important, teaching our children the importance of people over things, as Randy's parents did, probably is the best way to do it. And as we know, it's not what our parents say but what they do that inculcate the right values into our children.
A chapter of his book talks about what he inherited from his parents. One thing that struck me was the ability to separate the importance of people from the importance of things. He tells a story about a time he has come to take his niece and nephew in a ride in his new convertible. His sister admonishes the kids to be extra careful in the new car, not to get it dirty. When he hears this, Randy does not agree, and expresses his own idea about the convertible being merely a thing by deliberately pouring a soft drink all over his new car's seat in front of the children. In another story, his wife has hit one of their cars with the other car, thereby denting both cars. She is nervous about telling him when he gets home, but after she cooks his favorite dinner, she nervously breaks the news. When he hears about both cars being dented, he reacts very little. He tells his wife that as long as the cars run, there is no reason to fix the minor dents. He believes in the utility of automobiles, is not captured by the general use of cars as status symbols.
Both these stories captured my imagination. I have been tied to the sex appeal of particular cars I have owned, and I am not alone among my siblings in this tendency. I liked Randy's lack of using ownership of things as a means to bolster social class and standing. If more of us were like Randy, the auto manufacturers would have a hard time selling anything more than the basic vehicle to get us from point A to point B with the least amount of gas.
But it cannot be blamed on industry, they are merely tapping into our tendency to use things as social status indicators.
I have no fix for how to counter this tendency to trap ourselves in our stuff. I do know that Benedictine spirituality would help us learn how to live more simply, which seems part of what is needed. More important, teaching our children the importance of people over things, as Randy's parents did, probably is the best way to do it. And as we know, it's not what our parents say but what they do that inculcate the right values into our children.
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