The puzzled ones, the Americans, go through their lives
Buying what they are told to buy,
Pursuing their love affairs with the automobile,

Baseball and football, romance and beauty,
Enthusiastic as trained seals, going into debt, struggling —
True believers in liberty, and also security,

And of course sex — cheating on each other
For the most part only a little, mostly avoiding violence
Except at a vast blue distance, as between bombsight and earth,

Or on the violent screen, which they adore.
Those who are not Americans think Americans are happy
Because they are so filthy rich, but not so.

They are mostly puzzled and at a loss
As if someone pulled the floor out from under them,
They’d like to believe in God, or something, and they do try.

You can see it in their white faces at the supermarket and the gas station
— Not the immigrant faces, they know what they want,
Not the blacks, whose faces are hurt and proud —

The white faces, lipsticked, shaven, we do try
To keep smiling, for when we’re smiling, the whole world
Smiles with us, but we feel we’ve lost

That loving feeling. Clouds ride by above us,
Rivers flow, toilets work, traffic lights work, barring floods, fires
And earthquakes, houses and streets appear stable

So what is it, this moon-shaped blankness?
What the hell is it? America is perplexed.
We would fix it if we knew what was broken.

-Alicia Suskin Ostriker

(HT: The Writer’s Almanac)

On a lead from Rick Saenz’s blog, Dry Creek Chronicles, I found this slideshow from Wired: Endless Assembly Lines and Giant Cafeterias; Inside China’s Vast Factories.

Saenz appropriately pulled this quote as a summary of the situation:

“Taiwan said ‘we’re going to become the semi-conductor manufacturer for the world’ and now they ultimately produce 50 percent of the world’s semi-conductors; Japan said we’re going to make cars and electronics and they’ve become dominant in the world in those two fields.

“The difference with China is that they have no such strategy, they’re just saying ‘wherever there’s money, we’re going to do it.’ They produce 90 percent of the world’s Christmas ornaments and they’re not Christians, they don’t even know what they’re for or what they represent, but they make them because we buy them. They don’t care what they’re making as long as we buy it”

Check out the slideshow for a look into what we western consumers don’t often get to see.

Jamie’s latest post outlines a growing trend among bible makers and fashion-conscious, bible-toting Christians:

“Bibles are becoming as much personal statements as fashion statements. ‘What people are saying is ‘I want to find a Bible that is really me,’ noted Rodney Hatfield, a vice president of marketing at Thomas Nelson. ‘It’s no different than with anything else in our culture.’”

In a discussion with friends the other night, we considered John chapter 1, where it says the “Word became flesh” when Jesus entered the world. We spent time thinking about how ancient cultures felt about words — that words once had the power to affect both the physical and spiritual realms.

By contrast, we realized words today mean so little in our culture. We’re bombarded by words like “best,” “greatest” and “ultimate” in advertisements to the point that they mean nothing. How many #1s can there be? No, everything is over-promised. And by default, everything is under-delivered.

I’m reminded of that scene from Elf where Buddy takes Jovie to get the “World’s Best Cup of Coffee,” advertised in the café window. Buddy blindfolds Jovie and makes her take a swig, surprising her with this triumph in coffee making. Of course, you and I knew the coffee would be horrible. Why? Because advertisements seldom live up to their word. In his own sweet way, Buddy’s naiveté reveals something about the world we occupy: words are cheap.

At times it feels as though there’s some undercurrent running through our collective consciousness — some strain of cynicism that strips words, relationships and our experiences of God of power and meaning. Perhaps it’s an undercurrent of disbelief and mistrust. I recognize it in my own heart from time to time – when I don’t believe, even on a small level, what you say about me or others – especially when it’s positive. I see it when I read the Bible with less reverence and devotion than I give to watching primetime television.

We inoculate ourselves with things that look like Jesus or represent him in some twee fashion, especially in the Christmas season. Our consumerization of God’s Word and the “Word Became Flesh” has reduced our capacity to recognize him and proclaim his true character to the world. The fact that our Bibles need to match the color of our shoes on Sunday morning, that they have become an accessory to who we are, is only a symptom of a greater sickness we share. It’s contagious. Before long, nothing will be sacred anymore.