"On Vegetarianism...and Not," or "Praise the Lord and Pass the Meat"

I distinctly remember October 2005. I was living in Maryland, and for the first time in my life I was responsible for purchasing and preparing my own food. This newly found responsibility brought with it the new freedom and responsibility to make decisions about what I should eat, specifically with regard to meat.

I'd long been curious about vegetarianism and veganism but had never taken any steps toward it. I found the animal rights books at my local library, one of which stood head and shoulders above the others based on the reviews: Animal Liberation by Peter Singer(1). In that book Singer laid out a laundry list of atrocities regarding the factory farming and meat processing industries.

As I read Singer, I also spent a great deal of time in the early chapters of the book of Genesis in the bible. Genesis, as the book of beginnings, begins with creation and God charging Adam and Eve with responsibility to care for the creation, a responsibility that carries to us today. As I considered and researched Singer's points in light of the framework of Genesis, I starkly saw this as a stewardship issue. Then Singer made the point that connected the dots for me: every purchase is a vote for the system. Buying (and consequently consuming) animal products is what keeps the system going.

Case closed: time to become a vegetarian and work toward being a vegan. I bought no more meat; I began purchasing non-leather shoes and belts; I drank soy milk, which I later found out is by no means the best alternative; I bought soap not made with animal fat (which is actually quite disgusting); I was amazed at the way dead animals creeped into so much of what I bought. At this point in my life though, it was an easy change to make.

Over the years I learned a lot about things like complete and incomplete proteins, the dark side of soy, and several other things that made me much healthier. With each passing day I learned, and vegetarianism became easier.

About six months ago I began praying for God to loosen my conscience on this issue. It was tough for those with whom I was sharing meals as they felt the need to make everything meat free, despite my insistence that they didn't need to do so. On rare occasions I felt like I was missing out, such as when I couldn't eat the Dublin burger(2) at the Barley House in Concord, NH. I had it with a black bean patty, but the whiskey gravy is made with beef broth. I was able to substitute Guinness cheese sauce, which was delicious, but it wasn't the real thing. Five months I prayed and received an answer of "not now."

One of several meat grilling stock
photos from my Facebook page.
Be sure to like me on Facebook.

Then, suddenly one day, yes...what? Umm...ok, cool.


So, first things first: to Li'l Woody's for Macklemore's (no longer existent) Heist burger! But wait - then I have to explain to people why I'm eating meat, and that's going to get old really quickly. And besides, I'm the vegetarian guy. Everyone loves seeing the vegetarian grilling their absolutely delicious hamburger. You know what? I'm going to keep not eating meat.

Then a week ago at church we started a new series called "Who Do You Think You Are?" based on my pastor's new book by the same name. It deals with identity, whether we find it in Christ or something else. I've been searching my heart, looking for areas of my life in which I find my identity in things other than Christ. We were created in the image of God. Our dignity, value, and worth come from that, whether we believe it or not. Anything else we look to for those things will fall short. When we let those things tell us who we are, we are believing the lie. Only Christ is our true and best identity.

This is right before I found out you have to
cook it. And take it out of the plastic.

This is exactly the role vegetarianism was filling for me. I was afraid to eat meat because I was "the vegetarian guy." I had placed my identity in vegetarianism instead of Jesus. Repentance looks like worshipping God for this realization as well as the change in my conscience. That, and eating meat in accordance with what he changed in my heart.

I've had some chicken. I need to slowly re-introduce meat into my diet for the sake of my body, which is not used to digesting it. I also need to learn to cook meat: I'm a great vegetarian cook, but my attempt to cook chicken was very dry. I will learn by doing it. It will take time. But for the moment, I'm hungry and my identity is in Christ...who wants to buy me a burger?



(1) I would now call Singer my favorite philosopher, despite the fact that I completely disagree with him on many issues. Animal Liberation was the first of many of his books that I have read.
(2) From the menu: peppercorn charred, whiskey gravy, creamy blue cheese, crispy onions.

I distinctly remember October 2005. I was living in Maryland, and for the first time in my life I was responsible for purchasing and preparing my own food. This newly found responsibility brought with it the new freedom and responsibility to make decisions about what I should eat, specifically with regard to meat.

I'd long been curious about vegetarianism and veganism but had never taken any steps toward it. I found the animal rights books at my local library, one of which stood head and shoulders above the others based on the reviews: Animal Liberation by Peter Singer(1). In that book Singer laid out a laundry list of atrocities regarding the factory farming and meat processing industries.

As I read Singer, I also spent a great deal of time in the early chapters of the book of Genesis in the bible. Genesis, as the book of beginnings, begins with creation and God charging Adam and Eve with responsibility to care for the creation, a responsibility that carries to us today. As I considered and researched Singer's points in light of the framework of Genesis, I starkly saw this as a stewardship issue. Then Singer made the point that connected the dots for me: every purchase is a vote for the system. Buying (and consequently consuming) animal products is what keeps the system going.

Case closed: time to become a vegetarian and work toward being a vegan. I bought no more meat; I began purchasing non-leather shoes and belts; I drank soy milk, which I later found out is by no means the best alternative; I bought soap not made with animal fat (which is actually quite disgusting); I was amazed at the way dead animals creeped into so much of what I bought. At this point in my life though, it was an easy change to make.

Over the years I learned a lot about things like complete and incomplete proteins, the dark side of soy, and several other things that made me much healthier. With each passing day I learned, and vegetarianism became easier.

About six months ago I began praying for God to loosen my conscience on this issue. It was tough for those with whom I was sharing meals as they felt the need to make everything meat free, despite my insistence that they didn't need to do so. On rare occasions I felt like I was missing out, such as when I couldn't eat the Dublin burger(2) at the Barley House in Concord, NH. I had it with a black bean patty, but the whiskey gravy is made with beef broth. I was able to substitute Guinness cheese sauce, which was delicious, but it wasn't the real thing. Five months I prayed and received an answer of "not now."

One of several meat grilling stock
photos from my Facebook page.
Be sure to like me on Facebook.

Then, suddenly one day, yes...what? Umm...ok, cool.


So, first things first: to Li'l Woody's for Macklemore's (no longer existent) Heist burger! But wait - then I have to explain to people why I'm eating meat, and that's going to get old really quickly. And besides, I'm the vegetarian guy. Everyone loves seeing the vegetarian grilling their absolutely delicious hamburger. You know what? I'm going to keep not eating meat.

Then a week ago at church we started a new series called "Who Do You Think You Are?" based on my pastor's new book by the same name. It deals with identity, whether we find it in Christ or something else. I've been searching my heart, looking for areas of my life in which I find my identity in things other than Christ. We were created in the image of God. Our dignity, value, and worth come from that, whether we believe it or not. Anything else we look to for those things will fall short. When we let those things tell us who we are, we are believing the lie. Only Christ is our true and best identity.

This is right before I found out you have to
cook it. And take it out of the plastic.

This is exactly the role vegetarianism was filling for me. I was afraid to eat meat because I was "the vegetarian guy." I had placed my identity in vegetarianism instead of Jesus. Repentance looks like worshipping God for this realization as well as the change in my conscience. That, and eating meat in accordance with what he changed in my heart.

I've had some chicken. I need to slowly re-introduce meat into my diet for the sake of my body, which is not used to digesting it. I also need to learn to cook meat: I'm a great vegetarian cook, but my attempt to cook chicken was very dry. I will learn by doing it. It will take time. But for the moment, I'm hungry and my identity is in Christ...who wants to buy me a burger?



(1) I would now call Singer my favorite philosopher, despite the fact that I completely disagree with him on many issues. Animal Liberation was the first of many of his books that I have read.
(2) From the menu: peppercorn charred, whiskey gravy, creamy blue cheese, crispy onions.

"On Vegetarianism...and Not," or "Praise the Lord and Pass the Meat"

The End of the Ender: Speaker for the Frustrated

I finished Ender's Game. I would have finished it a while ago, but I lost the book for about two weeks. I almost checked it out of the library or re-bought it, but then I decided not to. 

When I began, my friend Biz told me to take my time. Soak it in, she said. It isn't the same the second time. It got dark about halfway through, but I expect this from Orson Scott Card. I can re-read this no problem. 

The last two chapters changed everything. I don't think I could re-read it. It would certainly not be the same if I did, but I don't think I could bring myself to do it. I mean, maybe someday, but certainly not right now. 

I bought Speaker for the Dead, the second book in the series a few days ago. "Second book" is somewhat of an unfair designation, as the series goes so many different directions. There is the main storyline, of which SftD is the second book, but then there is an entire shadow storyline which takes place simultaneously. Further, the books are not all sequels in the way that we normally designate things sequels: they are more of a web of interrelated stories. 

Herein we find my biggest frustration with Orson Scott Card: he cannot let a series end. He is too attached to his characters. On the cover of Slanted Jack by Jack L. Van Name* is a quote from Card, in which he says that he'd like to see Jack in at least a dozen more novels. Card needs to learn to write endings as well as he writes stories. 

Let's take an example: I've been reading The Tales of Alvin Maker. I have read the first three books. While I've enjoyed the series, it should be over. However, there are three more books. Card will introduce characters, only to kill them off two or three chapters later. They will interact minimally with the main storyline and bear no consequence to the plot, but a few chapters were spent unnecessarily discussing their lives. 

At least in the Alvin Maker series there is a definite end. The end is hinted in the first book and openly discussed in the second. The other four books are a matter of getting there. In theory, Card could (and quite possibly will) continue writing Ender books until he dies. There is no definite end. There is no overarching goal. There is only the universe. 

Further, Card's protagonists always have special knowledge which no one else has. They do not communicate this knowledge (whether by decision or inability), but it is absolutely necessary to the whole of humanity. Instead they carry around their secret (whether represented by a golden plow or a silken egg) bringing about destruction (active or passive) of everyone else by accident. And yet somehow these are the good guys. 

despite my frustrations with Card (a list from which this is only a sampling) I cannot not read him. He draws me in. I get attached to the characters. I never get closure, so I never stop reading. His words ring through my mind in a way that few authors can achieve. And unfortunately, as if it were written by Card himself, this post doesn't really have an ending. 

*Van Name is without a doubt the worst pseudonym I've ever seen - it seems like more of a placeholder. On the off chance that actually is his real name, he should have used a pseudonym. 

I finished Ender's Game. I would have finished it a while ago, but I lost the book for about two weeks. I almost checked it out of the library or re-bought it, but then I decided not to. 

When I began, my friend Biz told me to take my time. Soak it in, she said. It isn't the same the second time. It got dark about halfway through, but I expect this from Orson Scott Card. I can re-read this no problem. 

The last two chapters changed everything. I don't think I could re-read it. It would certainly not be the same if I did, but I don't think I could bring myself to do it. I mean, maybe someday, but certainly not right now. 

I bought Speaker for the Dead, the second book in the series a few days ago. "Second book" is somewhat of an unfair designation, as the series goes so many different directions. There is the main storyline, of which SftD is the second book, but then there is an entire shadow storyline which takes place simultaneously. Further, the books are not all sequels in the way that we normally designate things sequels: they are more of a web of interrelated stories. 

Herein we find my biggest frustration with Orson Scott Card: he cannot let a series end. He is too attached to his characters. On the cover of Slanted Jack by Jack L. Van Name* is a quote from Card, in which he says that he'd like to see Jack in at least a dozen more novels. Card needs to learn to write endings as well as he writes stories. 

Let's take an example: I've been reading The Tales of Alvin Maker. I have read the first three books. While I've enjoyed the series, it should be over. However, there are three more books. Card will introduce characters, only to kill them off two or three chapters later. They will interact minimally with the main storyline and bear no consequence to the plot, but a few chapters were spent unnecessarily discussing their lives. 

At least in the Alvin Maker series there is a definite end. The end is hinted in the first book and openly discussed in the second. The other four books are a matter of getting there. In theory, Card could (and quite possibly will) continue writing Ender books until he dies. There is no definite end. There is no overarching goal. There is only the universe. 

Further, Card's protagonists always have special knowledge which no one else has. They do not communicate this knowledge (whether by decision or inability), but it is absolutely necessary to the whole of humanity. Instead they carry around their secret (whether represented by a golden plow or a silken egg) bringing about destruction (active or passive) of everyone else by accident. And yet somehow these are the good guys. 

despite my frustrations with Card (a list from which this is only a sampling) I cannot not read him. He draws me in. I get attached to the characters. I never get closure, so I never stop reading. His words ring through my mind in a way that few authors can achieve. And unfortunately, as if it were written by Card himself, this post doesn't really have an ending. 

*Van Name is without a doubt the worst pseudonym I've ever seen - it seems like more of a placeholder. On the off chance that actually is his real name, he should have used a pseudonym. 

The End of the Ender: Speaker for the Frustrated