Waiter Rant
When Amy and I were at the Tea Room a couple weeks ago a man walked in with a small group and proceeded to raise a ruckus. He didn’t like the table they assigned. He didn’t like the next table. He got angry and firm, finally taking a table near the back despite the protest of the staff. Quite rude and quite thinking he was the only one in the restaurant.
When he sat down his mother, who likely taught him such behavior, said, “First you give them a chance to do it right, then you help them do it right.”
We laughed out loud. Their assumption of what they were owed did not disguise the fact they were merely boors.
I’m glad I don’t have to deal with such people every day.
But waiters and waitresses do.
The author of Waiter Rant started out thinking he would like to help people as a priest. He began to study for the priesthood but left when the corruption and the scandals started getting too much. Had a degree in psychology and tried his hand in the mental health care business. Also corrupt and scandal-ridden. Stayed honest, got fired.
Wandered around a little. His brother got him a job in a restaurant. Also corrupt and scandal-ridden, but at least there are no illusions. Stays a waiter. Moves to a nicer place. Begins to write about his experiences on a blog. Then in this book.
That’s the background.
The book is a memoir of sorts, but not a typical kind. It’s anonymous. It also dwells on a particular setting and makes particular points along the way. It’s a memoir with a mission, and this is to illuminate the often hidden world of restaurants. The Waiter, as he is known, touches on important concepts such as management, illegal immigration, rude customers, good and bad service, holidays, waiter revenge, hygiene, and assorted other topics. Each chapter has a particular theme.
Yet, these themes aren’t at all obvious at first. The writing is that good. The Waiter is brilliant at showing not telling, that tricky art that foils lesser writers. We are given a story, not a mere rant. He is descriptive, insightful, observing, and honest. The themes are held within an overall story that is his life, a life that has many twists and turns and disappointments.
These disappointments and disillusionment become our boon, however. Because of his background, and his great capability, we are given a wonderful view into an often disguised world. The Waiter brings to bear not only his expertise at his profession, but also psychological and spiritual insights, making this book a surprising deep read. But never overbearing and certainly never self-righteous. The honesty sometimes ventures into the vulgar, but always understandably so. It’s not only the story of a man trying to find his way and providing great commentary as he goes. It’s also a manual of restaurant etiquette and personalities, becoming a mirror to our often unconsidered actions.
This really is a great book, amazing insight and amazing writing throughout. Profound and readable, all while dwelling on often mundane issues. I’m going to be recommending this to most everyone I know.
Now, I sort of wish he went back into the priesthood, or maybe tried out being a Protestant pastor. I can only imagine how good he would do looking at the convoluted world of church life. But, I suspect his mission is greater than that.
He’s a waiter. He’s really a writer. And this book should be bought. Waiter Rant is a brilliant book. Ten stars if I could.
A Persistent Peace. An Autohagriography
Throughout Christian history there has been quite an interest in men and women who did great things, whether in this world or within their soul. These men and women weren’t seeking self-satisfaction. Rather, they were truly seeking God and his work in them and in this world. The interest in such people often insisted they be viewed as saints, objects of devotion if not worship. Biographies written were often filled with stories of great victories, moral pronouncements, heroic stands. Little was said that would suggest these people had real personal histories or daily struggles or lived in complex times.
Glossing over the negatives, and thus the whole truth, these biographies were meant more as inspiration than history–inspiration for those already walking in their footsteps, devoted to the cause and method.
A Persistent Peace: One Man’s Struggle for a Nonviolent World
I was disappointed, however. A Persistent Peace is a history of the icon, John Dear S.J, and even more the story of the names and places involved in the Peace movement since Reagan.
But we never really get to know the man, John Dear. The gift of an autobiography is that we can see not only the events, but also the internal perspective, wrestling, frustrations, development of the subject. John Dear seems to open up, but often only in ways that bolster the sense of his superiority. People around him don’t understand him. They are bored or angry or confused. Dialogue is pontifications of his teaching to the ignorant, even hateful, opponents or less ignorant friends. This is coupled with a hero worship of sorts, in which Dear seems to reveal himself most by talking about the people he wants to be like. But, all throughout it seems a lot of the real John Dear remains hidden, hidden because it seems he is still unwilling to be truly transparent about who he is and where he came from.
In the foreword, Martin Sheen writes, “I suspect that much of John’s character was formed, as it is for all of us, during adolescence, that critical period when every level of physical, emotional, physiological, sexual, and spiritual development begins to emerge.”
I suspect this too. Only A Persistent Peace gives nothing of this. We begin with John in college at Duke. We are given only the barest glimpse of his family life, which is decidedly upper class and filled with powerful influences. Indeed, he mentions his father and mother only in passing again and again, often as sources of introductions for people he proceeded to lecture about peace issues.
So, we don’t really ever get to see the man, only the image of the peace activist seeking the way of Jesus in this world as he sees it, fighting against the benighted masses who disagree, not only with the goal but also the method–public protest and nuisance. This is not a review to argue such tactics, however, I can’t help but think that being empowered because of arrests for public behavior is entirely different than the martyrs arrested for their message. Speaking the message is perfectly fine and accepted, a fact I think grates against those who seek to find identity within a pampered martyrdom.
Because of this I was disappointed with the book. We are left with more of a polemic than a story, again and again told rather than shown. Which places me outside of the target audience, to be sure, which is almost certainly the choir of people who already celebrate the message, goals, and tactics of John Dear as being the true expression of a “faith that does justice”.
Giving this a star rating was difficult even still, because I realize for many this is precisely what they want and need. Hagiographies were popular, and still are, because people need heroes presented in a certain light and need the empowerment that comes from seeing their causes as black and white, good versus evil. I give it three stars because I do not share the initial assumptions and was seeking a history of the man rather than a story of places, and celebrities, and events that make up the Peace movement. I wanted to learn about the man, not the symbol.
Here is a quote that I think would best help readers to determine the worth of this book. John Dear upon arriving at the Pentagon says, “it was the center of death for the whole planet, its prime purpose to organize the empire’s killing sprees at the behest of the multinational corporations and their politicians.”
If you agree with this, then you will see this as a five star book, speaking truth to power, and modeling heroic activism. If you disagree, you will find this book likely confirming what you like least about the Peace movement, even if you happen to agree with many of their ideals.
This is not particularly an interesting or insightful autobiography. It compares poorly as such to the recent works by Jurgen Moltmann about his life in theology, A Broad Place: An Autobiography
This is a book for the choir. If you’re wearing the robes then have at it, enjoy it, for it is certainly written with passion. It is also a good history of the last decades of the Peace movement. In fact, I wish Dear had not styled this a story of one man’s struggle and instead more honestly made this a book of many people’s participation.
As such, I’m left thinking Dear is trying to impose himself as a major figure, seeking the identity of his heroes Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Bobby Kennedy, but falling flat despite his many arrests and popularity within a certain segment of particular activists. He wants to be seen and applauded and affirmed.
Which makes me wonder what his life was like before Duke and with his family. Which makes me also wonder if maybe he really should have become a Franciscan after all.
N.T. Wright
N.T. Wright, one of my favorite writers, was on the Colbert Report last night talking about heaven. Quite interesting… both the topic and how he did in that setting. It’s a hard topic to get across in such a short amount of time and with the jokes flying back and forth but I think he did a good job. Then again, I spend a lot of my time trying to sort out those kinds of things so maybe I’m not the best judge of how well he communicated. The fact he was on, however, is really interesting and might be among the nicest ‘theology in popular culture’ events I’ve seen in a long while. Hopefully, there will be more of that. Bringing theology directly to the people is a very needed task.
Here’s the clip (scroll down–I can’t embed it here for some reason and can’t link directly to the exact clip).
an update
Hi.
I’ve not posted in a bit of a while. The pictures below have been part of the reason. As has an accompanying peace in just getting away from the usual topics.
I’m starting to get back into the swing of things. My goal for this summer is to learn German. Read theology. And generally get my mind and being geared up for PhD studies this Fall. So, hopefully, this means some thoughts will wander though my brain and seek a bit of light hereabouts.
In the meantime, I have a couple interesting links.
Kristin Myers has a post on boycotting Amazon, which connects to a post written by Wess Daniels. Both are interesting. I’ve added my thoughts in the comments over at both blogs. I want to make note of Kristin too because she is an interesting writer coming at various topics as a graphic designer. When I TAed a class last summer on Emerging/Missional churches she wrote one of the most fascinating papers I read.
Wess is also worth noting again and well worth visiting regularly. He is, I think, one of the key future leaders/thinkers of the Society of Friends. His efforts have really sparked my own hopes the Quakers have a fruitful future and might be able to even reignite more in this present spiritual climate. Brilliant and thoughtful guy.
All That Road Going
For most of my life, as long as I can remember at least, I’ve enjoyed people watching. Airports are great. So are train stations. Sitting on a public bench or at a table looking out at the sidewalk of a busy city also make great spots. What is the fascination? I’m not sure. I think it’s because all these people represent such different stories.
I watch and I ponder and I absorb the different faces and different styles and different postures. Different places offer different casts of characters. Different classes or races or likely histories.
All That Road Going is a book for those of us who people watch, because it’s this treat we are never given in real life. It’s a look into the thoughts and stories of various characters all on their way. That the setting is a Greyhound bus means we are looking at the particular people who would ride a Greyhound bus, not exactly the symbol of roaring success.
The style is literary fiction. Mojtabai is a gifted writer, with a sharp eye for detail and insight about humanity. Her prose is well-crafted, offering both readability and vibrant descriptions of her often bland, maybe even forgettable settings. This is a book about people we might not notice, in places we would likely ignore or dismiss. But instead of dismissing them, Mojtabai dwells, sits with them and encourages us to see real people.
The book itself feels like Mojtabai was interested in doing character sketches, and then found a convenient way to tie these various sketches together. Not only is there no real plot, there isn’t a consistent narrator. Each chapter, for the most part, gives us the perspective from a different seat. The bus driver makes the most appearances as we learn his values and perspectives. Mojtabai crafts her writing to fit each narrator as we go, making the prose itself become insight into the characters, and done so with expertise.
All That Road Going is a very good book. Well written and quite interesting, if you like character studies. Low ratings that I’ve seen seem to be not a reflection about this book as much as they are about the fact some people just don’t like this type of book.
If you are wanting an action packed plot or flowing story this likely isn’t the best book. If you people watch and would love to have just a taste of what it would be like to hear the stories of the people walking by or sitting near then this is a wonderful treat.
Signs of Life
A couple weeks ago I had the chance to preach on the topics in my book It’s a Dance: Moving with the Holy Spirit. It wasn’t recorded, as far as I know. However, this morning I sat outside and got it on video. It’s about 27 minutes long.
So Brave, Young, and Handsome
Got a nice selection of items from the Amazon Vine program this month. One I especially want to feature here. The novel So Brave, Young, and Handsome by Lief Enger. Here’s my review:
“I said, ‘Most men never have the chance to be both things at once, the hero and the devil.’
‘That is ignorant. Most men are hero and devil. All men. That is what ruins it with wives.’
‘She wanted just the hero?’
‘Bad men or good she would’ve had me either way. She couldn’t endure both, however. She said to pick one and to be that thing only so that she might trust me until the day of Jesus.’”
There is a perspective in some ancient cultures about in-between places and times. Dawn and dusk, which lie between night and day. The seashore, that lies between water and land. Halloween, that time in which the spirit world and the physical world are perilously close. During these moments, in these places, it is both and neither all at once, indistinct and undefined. So too human life encounters these moments in identity. People are often caught in this nebulous middle, seeming one thing and another all at once. Sometimes this is being caught between their actions and their ideals, or their sin and their virtue. They are half-people of a sort, unrealized and unformed, without an identity of their own.
Some stay in this place their whole lives, never becoming, and never discovering themselves for who they really are. Others cast off from the dock, refusing to settle any longer for what was, and yet not yet knowing who they can or should be. It is a journey of becoming a whole person.
So Brave, Young, and Handsome is this story told of three primary characters, with a few others thrown in along the way. It is a road story telling of a physical journey that brings out the metaphysical of each of the characters, but not in a mushy, spiritualistic, heavy-laden way. And that’s what is so brilliant about the book. It’s not philosophy. It’s a great tale in the tradition of great American writers from decades past.
This is a book about in between times and in between people drawn with immense clarity and insight, while retaining a direct and sparse prose. Enger tells us of an era and certain characters, a story not a message. It is in this story, however, that we see so much of real life as it so often is: in between.
We are between the old and the new, the good and the bad, the honest and the false, the artist and the laborer, the young and the aged, the adventurous an the prosaic. The characters hope, but don’t know how to find this hope. What they do is carry on, having tasted something of who they know themselves to be they won’t let themselves go back. As Enger says in his acknowledgments, “Sometimes heroism is nothing more than patience, curiosity, and a refusal to panic.”
What I like so much about Enger’s work is that it is so hopeful. Absolutely honest, mind you, there’s no false hope to be found here or sentimentalism seeking to manipulate our emotions. These are real people, faults and all. But unlike so much contemporary literature and film Enger doesn’t feel a need to obsess with corruption or ruin. His is a book that shows people who are not handsome, or young, and rarely brave. But they want to be, and be such in ways that matter to them, not to others around them. They are seeking wholeness for themselves.
Not all succeed. Some do, but not in the expected ways.
“For at the same time he lost everything–the very direction of his own steps–he won the thing he held so precious he wouldn’t approach it in words.”
It is a story of real life. Not gritty, corrupted, malformed caricatures. Real people, or at least characters who are desperate to become real people, who learn what it is to be a real person.
With all this depth and insight it might sound ponderous. But it’s not. It’s very gentle and easy-going. It moves along at a varied pace, with enough movement to never seem tiresome and enough twists to never seem predictable. My only slight irritation is that sometimes Enger jumps ahead a bit and is so eager to bring a slight twist that he breaks the moment with unnecessary foreshadowing, sort of a “you’ll love what comes next!” moments. I wish he just let us experience the story as it happened a bit more. But this is a minor qualm and he does even this within the contexts of a fitting narration.
It’s a brilliant book, in craft and theme and insight. It’s the best work of contemporary fiction I’ve read in a very long time and guess it will be my favorite book of 2008.
A society of Pentecostals
Last Wednesday I flew out to Durham, North Carolina to attend the Society of Pentecostal Studies annual meeting. Though there was wireless in my hotel room and at the conference I didn’t check in here. I guess it’s the same part of me that tends not to take pictures at big events. I want to enjoy the moment, be in the moment, rather than be thinking how to document the moment.
I guess it’s another sign that I studied history rather than journalism in college.
That being the case, now that the trip is in the past I can begin to document the goings on.
My dad took me to the airport early on Wednesday morning, on his way to work. Which was nice, though his work and my flight time didn’t exactly match up. I got there round about 7. My flight took off at 11:40. Plenty of time to get to know the Ontario International Airport. I walked for long while. And I read for a long while, read a book I was hoping to re-prime me for theological conversation. It certainly did. The Holy Spirit in the World is a wonderful, wonderful book, though very dense, and got my brain moving again. It even ignited thoughts about new trails of study.
The time went by fairly quickly. Hardly felt like a wait at all. I boarded my flight, a very new Delta 757, and had a 4 hour ride to Atlanta, in which I mostly read some more, listened to a lot of classical music, as well as one of my favorite people in the world.
Landed, then I had to go from one side of Atlanta to the other for my next flight. Well, one side of the airport to another, Terminal A to E, which involved a mile+ walk and riding a train for ten minutes. Then onward to the Raleigh/Durham airport. Totally uneventful, entirely full, flight.
Landed. Was picked up by my good friend Maria, who used to be a SoCal resident before finishing up her degree at Fuller and wandering over to see what kind of extra education she can pick up at Duke. We first met at the church I used to go to/work at, and had good long conversations about very intellectual things as well as less intellectual things. She was, without a doubt, one of my earliest and most encouraging cheerleaders when I began my writing in 2003. That she’s brilliant and exceedingly well read with a superior grasp of English (despite being born and raised in Austria) made the encouragement all the more encouraging. So it was nice to see her. And not have to walk to the hotel.
She made me a turkey sandwich, because it was late and she thought I would be hungry. I didn’t know I was, but it turned out I was more hungry than I knew.
Got to my Quality Inns and Suites, right next door to the Durham Hilton, checked into room 103 and proceeded to immediately not fall asleep. Sure it might be 10:30 local time, but it was just starting out the evening in my time. Add the fact I was really suffering from a cold and a bad cough… well, I didn’t get to sleep until around 1.
Woke up wide awake at 6. Round about 7:30 I walked over to the Hilton, checked into the conference, opened my little packet of materials and was happy to see me staring back. A flier on It’s a Dance was included. Made me smile. I also got a couple of free books, which occupied my time until the shuttle came to take folks to Duke. Sat next to one of the main organizers of the conference, though I wasn’t aware of it at the time, not until he stood up at the main session that evening.
Did I say I’ve not been real involved in academia for a while and don’t really know anyone?
A new session had been added at the last minute. I decided to go. The Rev. Eusebius Stephanou spoke on his charismatic conversion in the early 60s and his subsequent ministry within the Eastern Orthodox church for the last forty years.
My thoughts on that will be in the next post.
Oh, and I forgot to mention. The night before my flight to the conference I got some nice news which helped my attendance take on more substantive meaning. I got a note from Dr. Veli-Matti Kärkkäinen that I had been accepted as his PhD student at Fuller Theological seminary beginning this Fall, and more that I had been awarded by the School of Theology a scholarship that entirely pays my tuition.
a reading of It’s a Dance: Moving with the Holy Spirit
I’m trying something out. Or practicing at least. I got a new webcam and I thought it would be interesting to do a reading of my book. Here’s the first installment, the beginning of chapter 2.
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The Making of a Tropical Disease
Last month I took a bit of a detour from my normal reading and had a go at The Making of a Tropical Disease: A Short History of Malaria (Johns Hopkins Biographies of Disease)
Once upon a time there was a mosquito. And this mosquito carried something with her and gave it to everyone she met. Men in peculiar outfits sprayed all over the land, and the mosquito was banished, in that land at least.
This is the story of malaria. The story that I’ve heard.
But the actual story of Malaria is a lot more complex. Who would have, for instance, expected a history on a supposed tropical disease to begin with a study of a city in Northern Russia? The Making of a Tropical Disease does just that.
Honestly, this isn’t always a fun book to read. Some books are very good about inspiration and motivation and glide along in presenting the chosen perspective. This isn’t about inspiration or motivation. It is more ambitious. There are times in which it slows down and gets into details and spends a long time one what might seem a minor point. But, this negative isn’t really a criticism. These seemingly minor points are in fact important, and it is the tendency to gloss over such points that undermine so many attempts to respond.
This certainly is a well written book. Randall Packard is a very good writer, and even with my above comment I must add he does a wonderful job of making personal connection. In his journey through the history of where malaria spread he does not only relate facts and figures. He tells a story, and in telling that story has written a very, very solid history.
But more than a history The Making of a Tropical Disease is also really a book on global policy. Packard does not hide this fact. He is making the point that malaria is not simply a story about random mosquitoes who live in unfortunate places. Rather, malaria is a disease that responds to human interaction, and throughout history there is a direct correlation between policy, politics, land use, economics and the occurrence of malaria. Humans interact with this world, and this interaction is not neutral but rather creates changes. These changes can bring open the door to ill effects.
This is not simply asserted and then policies recommended that fit some pre-conceived political bias. Rather, Packard is very scientific and very good in his history, laying out clearly the practices and results that led to malaria in certain regions. He respects the use of sources and when making a leap in interpretation or dealing with a situation in which clear records might be sketchy he admits this. His interpretation of data, however, seems solid even when he must depend on inference.
Packard is laying an absolutely solid foundation to a holistic policy in regards to malaria, and more than malaria. In a way this is a very post-modern book. The pre-moderns suffered from nature. The moderns sought to conquer nature, overwhelming it. The mass application of DDT resulted. Packard builds a middle ground, arguing that we should neither be victims but nor should we deny our own impact. Instead, by understanding nature, malaria and mosquitoes and land and water and humanity, we can develop intentional policies that that reflect the unintentional answers to past malaria outbreaks.
This really is an extraordinary book. For those who are interested in diseases it makes for an interesting read. For those who are interested in global politics and policies it pushes beyond the usual responses and builds a solid case for real, lasting and healthy actions that can literally save lives and entire regions from decay.
My perspective on malaria was at the same time begun and provoked, leading me to see so much of global realities with a new understanding. Very few books can be considered transformational, but Packard really did transform my thinking.
This should be a required book for anyone involved in global studies.
