One of the greatest opportunitities to live our values — or betray them — lies in the food we put on our plates.

I like reading sentences like this; they both articulate the message I try to live, and remind me of it anew.  This is why I’m a vegetarian.  I value compassion, frugality, health, environmental sustainability, and peace.  Those are the things I want on my plate.

A friend and I recently watched Food Inc. together.  She and I are kindof new-ish friends, so it’s new for her to be exposed to my food-culture.  I don’t try to shove it down her throat, but she can’t help but notice it.  Anyway, we enjoyed the movie (insofar as that movie can be enjoyed) and one of the things she said to me during it was something like: you should become an activist for this stuff, like, give talks and lobby congress and write articles, etc.

And my response was: I am an activist.  Every day.  My activism is in my fridge and on my plate.

I don’t think it’s in me to be an activist like she meant, although I agree with her that it’s an exciting prospect.  It’s obvious to her, having known me for a few months, that I have passion for this whole Eating Intentionally thing.  I think it makes sense on so many levels.  But I’m not willing to argue about it with anyone. Arguing doesn’t usually change anyone’s mind about anything. The best way I can think of to change the world is by changing myself; making peace by living peace; quietly putting plants in my grocery basket, and on my plate; intentionally putting my food dollars/votes towards products that have the most peace-power.  I never heard of anybody getting any peace out of arguing.*

Arguing strikes me as kindof indulgent sometimes.  The point of arguing is to prove to the person you’re arguing with that you’re right, right? Isn’t that ultimately self-serving?  If you do prove your point somehow, did you actually change your opponent’s mind, or did you only make them your opponent?

Plus, if you’re not arguing, then you’re not obligated to always have all the answers.  I don’t have all the answers.  That would never work for me.

*I can think of one exception, and that is marriage.  In my experience of marriage, sometimes arguing is necessary, productive, and cathartic. That’s a reason it makes sense to marry someone who is your peer, emotionally and spiritually — you can help refine each other’s worldview.

This is a selfish philosophy, and it is nothing new, nothing that other people working toward life-balance haven’t already thought of.  And I acknowledge that in all things there needs to be balance.  I should not go around thinking that new possessions, or aesthetically pleasing homes will ultimately make me happy. Nor am I thinking that I should never deny myself things. My self should be disciplined to make reasonable, beneficial choices; beneficial, that is, not only for me, but for a greater Community.

I’m not referring to core happiness here.  Core happiness, for me, involves relationships, community, worship, faith, health, meaningful work.  I’m talking about peripheral happiness — the kind of happiness I can readily contrive, the kind of comfort I can manufacture. Even though these are not core happiness issues, I do think that making decisions towards enjoyment of (relatively) small things will compound in value and ultimately contribute to living a joyful, grateful life. And, it appears to me that I have been blessed beyond measure; and I would be a fool not to dance and sing in it.

I just seems like I have to find a place to land in the midst of all the tension that I perceive between a philosopy of living Ascetically and living Excessively; as though it is somewhat of a gray area, to which there is no absolute right place for everyone.  So I’m trying to live somewhere between, in the land of Sacrificially, Charitably, Humbly, Joyfully.

I feel beset. Our economy is faltering (it is built on lies. see the book: Deep Economics by Bill McKibben), our nation is at war, our climate and environment are in crisis, natural disasters occur regularly. Is this new or am I just now noticing it? I keep wondering about the future, and having mini panic attacks, and thinking Do we have enough insurance? And Am I crazy? I just quit my job, a steady income, in what I perceive to be a very unsteady time.

But, wait. I refuse to live in fear. I refuse to succumb to the culture of fear. So hard to choose joy sometimes. But it’s times like these, when either the world is crumbling or I think it is, that I remember that joy is a choice –living lightly and joyfully is a way, a path I choose deliberately, and must re-choose each morning, and it must not be circumstantial.

So, again, I grab hold of joy, however small. Accepting the imperfections, even the tragedies, I turn my eyes to the joys of the day. Here are some of the joys of this day: The cup of coffee. The fruit. The smell of clover. The bright dry day. The car-ride with Hubs. The phone-call from friend. The falafel. The walk. The dog’s cold nose. The water in the glass.

her: So, what are you gonna do for Earth Day today?
him: Ride my bike to work.  You?
her: Eat vegan, recycle, and compost — oh wait I do that every day!

Hurray! Me too! I feel GOOD about that! In the words of John Robbins, a switch to a plant-based diet is “probably the most potent single act most individuals can take…in the effort to halt the destruction of our environment and preserve our precious natural resources” (Diet for a New America 363). To celebrate my daily achievements in Earth-friendliness, I got out the old John Robbins book to review a few stats:

• vegan food choices make less than 5% of the demand on topsoil as meat-based choices
• it takes less water to produce a year’s worth of food for a vegan than to produce a month’s worth of food for a meat-eater
• growing grains, veggies, and fruits uses less than 5% of the raw materials (oil, gas, coal) of the production of meat

I’m so thankful for the work of art that is the Earth. I’m so thankful for the creation and the ways it nourishes me, sustains me –the sun and soil and air and water –what beauty and care the Creator has lavished!

In particular, I’m thankful for all the ways I’m able to take care of it:

• I have access to recycling facilities
• I have my own yard where I can compost kitchen and yard waste
• I live only 2.7 miles from my workplace
• I am able to live successfully and healthily on a plant-based diet
• I have access to several farmer’s market for fresh, local food in season
• I can take small part in growing the food I eat

What good gifts! What a blessed place I must live!

It’s a very counter-cultural thing to do, and it’s at times difficult to not be understood, especially by close friends and family. It’s difficult to explain to people without coming off as judgmental. Also, I come from the South, where good food and good cooking are central to the culture and to family traditions. Most traditional Southern cooking that I learned involves meat: i.e. fried chicken, smothered pork chops, barbecue, etc. I don’t like having to turn my back on some of those traditions, or not participate when my family is having them. But in the end, being vegetarian is more rewarding, and more life-giving for me. I feel like my “vegetarian experiment” has helped me get to know God better.

What is the best part for you?

It’s very joyful and rewarding for me. It helps me be more grateful for my food, and relate with nature more peacefully. It’s also very freeing for me to know that I am not supporting systems I disagree with, and that I am making a statement about that in a small way.

As much as I love and take joy in being vegetarian, in some ways it’s difficult. Not eating meat is not difficult for me (I find it pretty unappealing by now). To differ from people I love and need in an area as fundamental as what I choose to eat, in my limited experience, takes steadfastness and courage and can be lonely. Among some members of our (husband’s and my) family, we encounter scorn and occasional ridicule. It’s usually masked as “teasing”, but we aren’t fooled.

I have come to believe firmly that food is a fundamental part of human culture, certainly of the culture I grew up in. It’s a hard thing to make a choice that alienates us from the culture we were born into, that brings an element of tension into our communion with family.

When did you first think about being a vegetarian, or begin to really like the idea?

Several years ago I was having some health problems and I began to read books and learn that food is important. I believe that eating is an intimate way we relate to the earth and engage in being human. So I began to think about where food comes from, and what is put into it or taken out, and food’s effects on our health and the environment, as well as the workers who produce it. And I changed the way I ate as a response to what I learned. I didn’t think about being a veg. until the past year when I became more convicted about stewardship of the environment and animals, world hunger, social justice, and thought about what the world will be like when Jesus comes back. I never really “liked” the idea. At first I was only doing a “vegetarian experiment”.

What are some reasons that you have decided to be vegetarian?

There are many. A) I believe the meat industry is very corrupt and don’t want to be a part of it (as a consumer). I don’t think it is at all what God intended the lives of animals to be. B) Excessive meat consumption by humans is very taxing to the environment in terms of greenhouse gas emissions, soil erosion due to overgrazing, water use and pollution, and destruction of forests and wildlife habitat. C) Livestock are being fed more than half of the grain we produce in the US, while a billion people in the world are starving; this seems silly to me. D) I’m just not sure that God originally intended for us to eat animals; I suspect he allowed it as a concession to our fallen state. More and more I think that God loves animals, takes joy in them, and gave them intelligence and emotions. It seems to me that we are much too flippant with their suffering. E) It’s a way I take Jesus’ sacrifice seriously: by recognizing that there’s no longer any need for an animal to be sacrificed so that I might live (at least not in 2007). I think Jesus died to save the world, animals, humans, creation, and that when he returns, there will be peace among us all—no death or slaughter. So being vegetarian is a joyful, spiritual way that I anticipate the peaceable kingdom of Christ.

If there is anything I didn’t ask you that you would like to say, feel free to mention it.

Thanks for giving me a chance to articulate all this stuff. This is the first time I’ve done that. I am a person who can’t do anything wholeheartedly unless there is more than one reason to do it. The more reasons, the easier it is to do. I feel like I have so many good reasons to be a vegetarian, that it is easy. It is a tangible, concrete, daily way that I

· Lessen my personal negative impact on the environment

· Identify with the poor of the world who cannot afford meat

· Extend grace to animals

· Vote against the meat industry by withholding my dollars from it

· Anticipate Jesus’ kingdom

Incidentally, we are so serious about the Isaiah 11 thing, that our dog recently became a vegetarian too. We thought, well, we are anticipating the peaceful kingdom, why shouldn’t Sula? (although we are watching to make sure she does ok physically on veg food). Someday Sula and the rabbits she likes to chase will lie down to nap together without fear.

In contemplating these questions again, I realize that so far, these reasons still resonate with me. I am learning more about how to walk in them with integrity, but they are still my reasons. And they come together like a prism– three-dimensional, solid, refracting my experience and sorting it out into colors I can understand (remember the prisms in Pollyanna?). I never thought that it would inform my worldview so profoundly. I guess that’s why I have to talk about it.