How Does That Fit?

About a month ago I started working part-time at Banana Republic. There were a lot of reasons for doing so, but one of the reasons was that, working in a church full-time like I do, I just felt out-of-touch with the world, and I wasn't getting a lot of face time with non-believers. . . at least, not much time with folks who would admit they're non-believers!

It's always interesting to me to see the worldviews of individuals, groups, organizations, and businesses. Here's a sampling of things I've been told since I started working that will give you some clue as to, at least part of Banana's operating mindset:

• People shop at Banana Republic because they want others to see them walking around with the "Banana Republic" bag.
• Your job is to get people to buy as much as possible.
• A great way to get people to buy more is to let them know about things that others are buying. People want to have what others have.
• It's easy for a guy to make sells in the Women's Dept. Just tell her she looks good in it, and she'll buy it.
• People who shop at Banana want everyone to think their clothes came from high-end stores in New York, even if they can't afford those clothes.
• Play into people's egos.

Amazing, huh?! I mean, these are actual statements I've heard since I started working there, and my guess is these types of ideals aren't exclusive to Banana Republic. Here's the thing: it's easy for me to condemn this mindset. It's easy for me to think this is disgusting, and immoral, and it is. . . until I realize that many of these statements are true about me as a shopper.

The refreshing thing is that Banana makes no apologies for this worldview. They're bold about these things, and I find myself being envious of them. I wish I were that honest about the things in my life that are disgusting and immoral. I wish I didn't spend so much time trying to spiritualize my sin, and just let it hang out there for others to see. It's not that Banana Republic is right. It's just that I'm pretty sure my hypocrisy is wrong.

Silence Is. . .Well, You Know

The other night I gathered with a group of people for an extended time of prayer, and we started the time just being quiet. It was pretty remarkable to just sit in the room, with a group of people, and be quiet. Here's the stages I went through: the first two or three minutes were the "getting settled" phase, I was just trying to get my mind around having my eyes closed, clearing my mind, etc. Then came the "forced prayer" stage where I knew I was supposed to be praying so I tried to make it happen. . . yeah, that works. The next few minutes were the awkward, "wow, we've been quiet for a really long time" part. Actually it'd only been about five minutes at this point. And then, something clicked. It was like video you see of an arid, desert plain at the start of the rainy season. The ground is so dry, so hard and cracked that at first the rain can't penetrate, and it just kind of pools up and flows away. Over time, though, after a couple of days of steady rain, the ground is softened, the cracks muddied, and the life-bringing water can get down deep, into the ground, to begin the restoration process. My soul got used to the much-needed rain of silence, and when we closed that time, I could feel it crying out for "one more minute."

Here's the thing: society will tell you that because of I-Pods, BlackBerrys, e-mail, and cell phones that we're way too connected, and we're tiring out our brains. They'll tell you that for productivity-sake, you should disconnect every once in a while, unplug, and turn things off. There's nothing wrong with that. What they're saying is good stuff. I'm not against it at all, and if that's what it takes to get people to slow down and, dare I say, stop for a minute, I'm all for it. For me, though, I don't need to stop and be quiet for the self-help reasons listed above. I need to stop and be quiet because it's been the dry season in the desert for far too long, the cracks in the hard soil of my heart are getting wider and wider, and I need the healing that comes with being quiet before my God.