[I just read the post that started this series, fasting for life, and realized, to my horror, that I hadn't posted what I said I was going to post. So I've decided to do it now (although simply editing out the offending statement would have been easier)]
When I started these posts I did so with the intent of giving me an easy out whenever someone asked me why I was a vegan. I could simply point them to this blog and be done with it. I never intended to make it a jeremiad. However, this post will probably, more than any other, tend in that direction. Consider yourself forewarned.
A vast majority of animals used to feed Americans are tortured. Period. True, there are so called "Happy Farms" that reportedly attempt to raise animals used for food humanely but they are in the minority (I will be posting about these farms down the road). For the most part I am fairly comfortable concluding that the meat you are eating or the milk you are drinking came to your plate and cup only after a long, grotesque life of unbelievable torture.
For a good commentary on the meat industry you may want to check out "Glass Walls" (note: that the images are very disturbing and some strong language is used so it is not recommended for young children. Older children should have their parents watching with them).
I became vegan because I saw two things: animals being tortured for our pleasure, and Christians who claim to be filled with the love of Christ not caring. Torture, hedonism, dinner. A strange juxtaposition of words. The number of Christians I have come across who simply don't care astounds me. I would prefer an argument over indifference. Indifference is probably saddest of vices suffered by believers, especially as it is usually the result of (sometimes willful) ignorance. If a little girl ran into the church screaming, "A man is outside hurting a little kitty!" I have not doubt the building would empty as all the able bodied men and women ran to stop this crime. But tell these same god-fearing people about the torture of cows, pigs and chickens and they will brush you off and reprimand you for interrupting that same little girl's meal of chicken nuggets and ice cream.
It is easy to miss the connection between what is on the plate and where it came from. As terrible as it sounds, one could just as easily replace what is on the plate with human remains and no one would be the wiser (in fact, this may have already been done by one Canadian farmer/psychopath). We don't care. We don't want to care. We feel better about our food when we don't care.
That's the majority of omnivores. Hunters know exactly where their food is coming from. Most of the hunters I have met and the ones I've hunted with (obviously before my diet change) were as humane as possible and tried their best for a quick, clean kill. But there is always a potential for things to go horribly wrong. I remember one incident where the hunter shot a deer; only it wasn't a clean kill. The animal was partially eviscerated and he and his buddies were able to follow the trail of blood and intestines for half a mile before they had to give up. Here we have a different problem. One a bit more hair raising. How can people (and this goes for factory farm workers as well) actually participate in the torturing of the animal and not be affected? Have we become that cold?
This brings me to my final thought, and the one that just may keep me up at night. I am afraid that even if people were given all the information and statistics and were to watch all the videos (including the one above), the typical man or woman going by the label 'Christian' would simply shrug and politely ask me to pass the chicken.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
#2 What are human?
Another thing that happens to me quite often when a person finds out I am a vegan is that the person goes into defensive mode. It is uncanny, almost like a switch gets turned on. At the top of most people's list is the love of meat. They just can't give it up because they enjoy it too much.
People somehow get the impression that just because I don't eat meat I never enjoyed it in the first place. Certainly I don't enjoy the smell now, but when I decided to stop eating animals I still had a taste for them. At one time I ate meat at least six days a week and usually two or three times a day...and enjoyed it very much, thank you.
So I can identify with people liking the taste of meat. Sort of. What concerns me are two things. The first banal but worth mentioning, the other not banal and also worth mentioning. First the banal.
Very few people in industrialized nations like meat for the taste. That's right. Think about it this way, how many people do you know cut off a hunk of meat from a dead or dying animal and eat it right then and there? How many people do you know simply boil a chunk of prime rib or other choice piece of flesh in plain water and eat it? Getting the picture yet? Everyone I know eat their meat spiced, marinaded, salted, pickled or otherwise treated then BBQ'd, broiled, seared, deep fried or roasted. So what are they tasting anyway?
Now I know that some research suggests we can taste fat outside our usual sweet, sour, bitter, salty or umami. My point is most people doctor their meat to such a degree it is hard for me to buy "I love the taste of meat" as a valid excuse.
Now onto the not so banal. Some people do not know or refuse to see the suffering that is their meat. But to see the suffering, the deprivation, the horrors these animals go through and still defend yourself with, "But I love the taste of meat" falls on the side of demented for me. If this same excuse were offered by a cannibal who loved the delicacy of young flesh or a WWII Nazi claiming to love the feel of vellum over cotton, the world (I hope) would be outraged.
"But they are not humans!" Although this is usually a separate excuse, if the argument isn't going well the person I am talking with will tack this one onto the end of the previous one. So in order for a sentient being to be afforded any amount of mercy on this planet they have to walk on two legs, wear name-brand clothes, carry a smart phone, work a real job, earn real money, pay taxes and...what? What is our definition of human anyway? If I thought for a moment the person arguing was making a species differentiation I could understand. But he or she is not. He is making an arbitrary judgement call based on a culturally engendered bias and nothing more. He, or she, is simply being a bigot.
Don't get me wrong here. Putting animals and humans into different categorical slots is going to happen. We all have to do it. If we do not things get really messy really fast. We wind up finding ourselves in the untenable position of choosing between saving the child or the dog or refusing to eat lest we accidentally kill a field mouse in the process of harvesting our food. I'm just not convinced this is the sort of categorizing the people I speak with are doing. It is much less thought through and far more shallow.
On the other hand, we make these same sorts of sacrifices based upon contrived categories with humans all the time so why should our animals be exempt? How many babies and mothers are killed in wars every year? How many are left to die on the streets of our cities? How many mentally retarded people, shut-ins and residents of nursing homes have any of us visited lately?
They are what we would categorically call humans but considering the push for euthanasia, infanticide, abortion along with the pervasive warmongering today I would guess our insensitivity towards the suffering of others doesn't necessarily have to cross the species barrier. Perhaps C.S. Lewis struck far closer to the prophetic than the profound when he wrote, "If we cut up beasts simply because they cannot prevent us and because we are backing our own side in the struggle for existence, it is only logical to cut up imbeciles, criminals, enemies, or capitalists for the same reasons."
What I am saying is this: Just because a creature is less "human" than our ideal (which is usually determined by the perception we have of ourselves) that does not give us the right to abuse and destroy it. And certainly not for a reason as trite as taste. When we do that we are not just condemning the animals, we are in a very real sense condemning ourselves.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
#1: Ask a child
...and a little child will lead them Isaiah 11:6b
This post begins my list of reasons for giving up eating animal products. As I mentioned in my previous post, it is not the first reason, only the one I decided to discuss first.
There probably isn't a hunter alive that does not at least get a little miffed at the movie Bambi. I remember going with a friend to see a re-release of the movie in the theater (the last one before its move over to home video). When it came to the famous scene of hunter vs. Bambi's mother my ears were suddenly accosted by shrill, hellish wails. A mother suddenly jumped up and dragged her hysterical boys from the theater. I heard, "They're going to kill the mother, don't let them kill the mother!" (or something along those lines).
Me? I was secretly cheering for the hunter and (not so secretly) angry at parents that would let their children watch such a movie in the first place without teaching them the facts of life.
What has to happen in a child's heart to change it from one such as was possessed by those two children, to one like mine? Strangely enough we automatically assume the problem is with the child.
A friend accounted to me a time she was eating with some coworkers when the topic of animal cruelty and factory farms came up. It wasn't long into the conversation when someone stated they didn't want to talk about it anymore. They would rather not know where their meat came from and they were more comfortable pretending it didn't come from animals. Really.
I recall, as a child, almost vomiting when I realized the thing I found in my food was a vein. Up to the point I really had never made the connection that at one time what I was eating use to be alive. I, like most children. I would have to struggle through the nausea many times before adulthood finally cleansed me of that weakness.
It was a long time before I once again started thinking about the source of my food. At forty years of age I had finally outgrown the need for pretending. The food, the chicken, steak, pork chop, came from something that was once alive. Something sentient and feeling. Something innocent. Only this innocence wasn't anesthetized by social mores, it was simply destroyed for my entertainment. The hunter had won and any screaming children dragged out of the theater.
This post has turned into more of a ramble and for that I apologize. My point is this: I saw a dark irony in the disparity between the child screaming for the deer who was about to die and and the pretense of my adulthood. I realized that if normal had to be defined by how well I could pretend, then something was seriously wrong with me.
Perhaps the screaming child scares us. We want to slap him or drag him out of sight (and hopefully out of mind), anything to shut his blathering mouth. We don't want to be reminded of the fact that our lunch used to be something other than what we are pretending it to be.
In short, I woke up and, like those two boys, started screaming.
This post begins my list of reasons for giving up eating animal products. As I mentioned in my previous post, it is not the first reason, only the one I decided to discuss first.
There probably isn't a hunter alive that does not at least get a little miffed at the movie Bambi. I remember going with a friend to see a re-release of the movie in the theater (the last one before its move over to home video). When it came to the famous scene of hunter vs. Bambi's mother my ears were suddenly accosted by shrill, hellish wails. A mother suddenly jumped up and dragged her hysterical boys from the theater. I heard, "They're going to kill the mother, don't let them kill the mother!" (or something along those lines).
Me? I was secretly cheering for the hunter and (not so secretly) angry at parents that would let their children watch such a movie in the first place without teaching them the facts of life.
What has to happen in a child's heart to change it from one such as was possessed by those two children, to one like mine? Strangely enough we automatically assume the problem is with the child.
A friend accounted to me a time she was eating with some coworkers when the topic of animal cruelty and factory farms came up. It wasn't long into the conversation when someone stated they didn't want to talk about it anymore. They would rather not know where their meat came from and they were more comfortable pretending it didn't come from animals. Really.
I recall, as a child, almost vomiting when I realized the thing I found in my food was a vein. Up to the point I really had never made the connection that at one time what I was eating use to be alive. I, like most children. I would have to struggle through the nausea many times before adulthood finally cleansed me of that weakness.
It was a long time before I once again started thinking about the source of my food. At forty years of age I had finally outgrown the need for pretending. The food, the chicken, steak, pork chop, came from something that was once alive. Something sentient and feeling. Something innocent. Only this innocence wasn't anesthetized by social mores, it was simply destroyed for my entertainment. The hunter had won and any screaming children dragged out of the theater.
This post has turned into more of a ramble and for that I apologize. My point is this: I saw a dark irony in the disparity between the child screaming for the deer who was about to die and and the pretense of my adulthood. I realized that if normal had to be defined by how well I could pretend, then something was seriously wrong with me.
Perhaps the screaming child scares us. We want to slap him or drag him out of sight (and hopefully out of mind), anything to shut his blathering mouth. We don't want to be reminded of the fact that our lunch used to be something other than what we are pretending it to be.
In short, I woke up and, like those two boys, started screaming.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Fasting for life
This is my second post and it is about fasting. I normally don't harp,
but this just happened to be the next thing I wanted to write about.
Over a year ago, after reading a number of books, I decided to switch to a vegetarian diet. About four months later I switched again to a vegan diet. The 'why' of the switch is what this post, and the others that hopefully will follow are about and it relates, in some measure, to my previous post Thank you God for a bad potato.
When people find out I am a vegan they usually, without fail, ask 'why?'. This is a tough question for me as I don't really have one answer. At least, not yet. There are several reasons I went vegan and most of the time people are not really prepared for the length of the full explanation. They are expecting a short and simple response. So I've decided to take some time and dedicate my next several posts to the reasons I decided to go vegan. Following that I would like to also spend time writing about veganism from a Reformed Christian's point of view. Something that appears to have very little air time out there (It is interesting and sad to note that of all the books I read about animal welfare and conservation, not a single one was written by a professing Christian).
Veganism, for me, is much more than simply not eating animals, or saving the planet (although these things are a part of it). Veganism is also about making a statement to a church that has become completely numb to the suffering around her. It is about taking a step, perhaps only a small one, in a direction away from the status quo. It is a physical, tangible, visible message to fellow believers that something is not right in our midst and we must change, even if that change is drastic, unpopular and even unpleasant.
Animals are important to me in and of themselves. They are lovely, sentient* and, in many ways, reflections of ourselves. However I am even more concerned with what our attitude toward animals says about ourselves. When I see Christians oblivious towards the profound suffering of other creatures I find myself very concerned with the reasons for this oblivion.
True, some of the reasons can be chalked up to pure and simple ignorance bred from years of exposure to an environment of accepted cruelty disguised as a contrived need for survival. But I have had far too many people respond with, "But that's what they are there for" to leave that as a viable excuse in most cases. Whatever the reasons or the reasons for the reasons, they still give me pause for concern. In fact it scares me. It appears that we have, in the words of the prophet, forgotten how to blush (Jeremiah 6:15).
Because of my concerns both for God's people as well as for the animals and the environment, I have entered into a life long fast. I am fasting from all animal products. I am vegan.
What I am going to give you in the next post is a reason for my diet change. Not the reason. It isn't even the first reason. It just happens to be the one I wish to address first. I think it is a very important reason nonetheless, but for me there are a few other really important reasons as well and I find it almost impossible to stack them up in some sort of order of importance. So what is the first reason? I will explain in my next post "Animals, torture and hedonism. It's what's for dinner".
A word of warning: I have no plan to make these posts a polished manifesto for the Christian vegan (although they may turn into that someday, God willing). They will be loose, vibrant, sketchy, hopefully insightful and perhaps even useful to someone besides myself. Ultimately these are being written to help myself organize my thoughts in an informal manner while at the same time offering some small help to other believers struggling to live up to their convictions while at the same time staying committed, biblical Christians.
[* The original post read "somewhat sentient (although the debate as to how much so is far from settled)". I've come to realize that I was wrong here. Animals are sentient. Period. ]
Over a year ago, after reading a number of books, I decided to switch to a vegetarian diet. About four months later I switched again to a vegan diet. The 'why' of the switch is what this post, and the others that hopefully will follow are about and it relates, in some measure, to my previous post Thank you God for a bad potato.
When people find out I am a vegan they usually, without fail, ask 'why?'. This is a tough question for me as I don't really have one answer. At least, not yet. There are several reasons I went vegan and most of the time people are not really prepared for the length of the full explanation. They are expecting a short and simple response. So I've decided to take some time and dedicate my next several posts to the reasons I decided to go vegan. Following that I would like to also spend time writing about veganism from a Reformed Christian's point of view. Something that appears to have very little air time out there (It is interesting and sad to note that of all the books I read about animal welfare and conservation, not a single one was written by a professing Christian).
Veganism, for me, is much more than simply not eating animals, or saving the planet (although these things are a part of it). Veganism is also about making a statement to a church that has become completely numb to the suffering around her. It is about taking a step, perhaps only a small one, in a direction away from the status quo. It is a physical, tangible, visible message to fellow believers that something is not right in our midst and we must change, even if that change is drastic, unpopular and even unpleasant.
Animals are important to me in and of themselves. They are lovely, sentient* and, in many ways, reflections of ourselves. However I am even more concerned with what our attitude toward animals says about ourselves. When I see Christians oblivious towards the profound suffering of other creatures I find myself very concerned with the reasons for this oblivion.
True, some of the reasons can be chalked up to pure and simple ignorance bred from years of exposure to an environment of accepted cruelty disguised as a contrived need for survival. But I have had far too many people respond with, "But that's what they are there for" to leave that as a viable excuse in most cases. Whatever the reasons or the reasons for the reasons, they still give me pause for concern. In fact it scares me. It appears that we have, in the words of the prophet, forgotten how to blush (Jeremiah 6:15).
Because of my concerns both for God's people as well as for the animals and the environment, I have entered into a life long fast. I am fasting from all animal products. I am vegan.
What I am going to give you in the next post is a reason for my diet change. Not the reason. It isn't even the first reason. It just happens to be the one I wish to address first. I think it is a very important reason nonetheless, but for me there are a few other really important reasons as well and I find it almost impossible to stack them up in some sort of order of importance. So what is the first reason? I will explain in my next post "Animals, torture and hedonism. It's what's for dinner".
A word of warning: I have no plan to make these posts a polished manifesto for the Christian vegan (although they may turn into that someday, God willing). They will be loose, vibrant, sketchy, hopefully insightful and perhaps even useful to someone besides myself. Ultimately these are being written to help myself organize my thoughts in an informal manner while at the same time offering some small help to other believers struggling to live up to their convictions while at the same time staying committed, biblical Christians.
[* The original post read "somewhat sentient (although the debate as to how much so is far from settled)". I've come to realize that I was wrong here. Animals are sentient. Period. ]
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Thank you God for a bad potato
I was eating lunch today which included potatoes. The casserole was wonderful, made up of some of my favorite vegetables. The last potato slightly caught my attention as it was mostly black, but being the eating machine that I am, I had it in my mouth and down my gullet before I could finish processing the aesthetics of the thing. Sure enough it was a tad on the rotten side.
We have eight people in my family, most of us hungry a lot of the time, so once in a while something gets through that normally wouldn't if it was just me cooking for myself. So I can't complain. But I started to think about it. At first my thought was to mention it to my wife but then thought better of it. She didn't do it on purpose and she would be mortified to find out it had made it into the pot. Mentioning it would only make her feel bad.
Then another thought came into my head. Who am I to complain about it at all? There are people all over the world living daily on rotten food or no food. Let me rephrase that: there are people all over the world dying on rotten food or from a lack of it. Who am I to think I deserve any better than they?
I have, on occasion, abstained from eating food in order to identify with my brothers and sisters around the world who don't even have the luxury of the choice of whether to fast or not. But I have never purposefully eaten an austere meal or committed to a similar diet for the sake of the starving. Is the idea a bit over the top?
As Christians living in America we think we are owed something. We grow lazy and fat on our diet of complacency and spiritual indolence while the rest of the world can't even dream about the amount of food we consume in a day (how can one dream about a thing he has never seen or heard of?).
Maybe you've told yourself fasting is too hard. What about eating less food or less variety? Spend a week simply eating rice and vegetables, or oatmeal, or something along those lines. About the fourth day of oatmeal, while you are gagging on every spoonful, you can be reminded to pray for those who would kill for that very spoonful of food.
All that from a rotten potato.
We have eight people in my family, most of us hungry a lot of the time, so once in a while something gets through that normally wouldn't if it was just me cooking for myself. So I can't complain. But I started to think about it. At first my thought was to mention it to my wife but then thought better of it. She didn't do it on purpose and she would be mortified to find out it had made it into the pot. Mentioning it would only make her feel bad.
Then another thought came into my head. Who am I to complain about it at all? There are people all over the world living daily on rotten food or no food. Let me rephrase that: there are people all over the world dying on rotten food or from a lack of it. Who am I to think I deserve any better than they?
I have, on occasion, abstained from eating food in order to identify with my brothers and sisters around the world who don't even have the luxury of the choice of whether to fast or not. But I have never purposefully eaten an austere meal or committed to a similar diet for the sake of the starving. Is the idea a bit over the top?
As Christians living in America we think we are owed something. We grow lazy and fat on our diet of complacency and spiritual indolence while the rest of the world can't even dream about the amount of food we consume in a day (how can one dream about a thing he has never seen or heard of?).
Maybe you've told yourself fasting is too hard. What about eating less food or less variety? Spend a week simply eating rice and vegetables, or oatmeal, or something along those lines. About the fourth day of oatmeal, while you are gagging on every spoonful, you can be reminded to pray for those who would kill for that very spoonful of food.
All that from a rotten potato.
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