The Color of Taxes

“Death, taxes and childbirth! 

There's never any convenient time for any of them.” 

(Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind)

It is "tax season" (there's apparently 5 seasons now...) in the Canadian accounting world. I've been gifted with an inside view of taxes as a consequence of filling an admin position in my wife's public accounting office. To be honest, the whole taxation system befuddles me. The CRA manual is HUGE! I am truly in awe of Anna's knowledge of taxation regulations and how they apply to a bazillion different scenarios.  I am also in awe of the tidal wave of negativity that the issue of taxes provokes in many of her clients.

While a good 'ol rant about the insanity of the Canadian Revenue Agency (CRA) would elicit significant applause from my readership and Anna's clients, it is not the inadequacies of the system to which I direct my comments today. Rather, it is the idea of the "common good" that has my attention.

“I hate paying taxes.

But I love the civilization they give me” 

(Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.)

Few of us like the idea of giving away a portion of our hard-earned income to a cause that we do not necessarily support. Every year the news reports some story about questionable government spending, misappropriation of funds, or massive overspending on projects with which we disagree. The result is a deep-seated resentment of paying taxes. 

I get that - money is time and energy; few among us want to frivolously waste our time and energy. This, however, is not the whole picture with taxes. As we gripe about paying tax, we may be throwing the proverbial baby out with the bath water. Governments are generally inefficient; bureaucracies allow for dubious spending policies; this is, perhaps, beyond question. Nonetheless, the tax system provides life in many ways, both subtle and overt, to our communities.

Here are some of the ways our tax dollars are Love in action:

- access to health care professionals

- access to emergency services and first responders 

- roads, urban water and sewer systems, bridges, side walks, 

  traffic signals...

- libraries, museums, art galleries

- elementary, middle and high schools, universities, tech schools, 

  and colleges

- a social care network for those who are, for any reason, unable to 

  make a living

- parks, playgrounds, wildlife sanctuaries

- passports, visas, international relations

All of this is only the tip of the iceberg. I acknowledge that none of the above suggestions are working perfectly; health care, educational, and political institutions are flawed and full of holes. Be that as it may, they still support life, providing an infrastructure upon which families and communities find some grounding. 

“We contend

that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity

is like a man standing in a bucket

and trying to lift himself up by the handle.” 

(Winston S. Churchill)

Churchill's words stand as a warning - taxation is not the solution to our problems. Overtaxing a people is a sure road to civil uprising. On the other hand, the ideal upon which taxation is based is founded upon ancient principles, namely, that we all have a responsibility for contributing to the common good. Communities are made strong as we work together to ensure that all members, rich and poor, powerful and vulnerable have opportunity to thrive.

To carte blanch state, "I don't want to pay any tax" is to say that I do not want to participate in my neighbor's well-being. A portion of my taxes built the road upon which the ambulance is travelling, which will take my neighbor, or a family member, or me... to the hospital. In part, my taxes will pay for a student to have a summer job through a "student employment program" grant. Some of my taxs will pay the wages of soldiers who are deployed to be peace keepers. Millions of people will make a living this year through wages collected as civil servants, serving their communities. 

Any of us could make a long list of the ways our tax dollars are misused, based on our personal values and priorities. I get that; I have that long list too. However, when I consider my responsibility to my community, province, country, and the world around me - I see that much of my tax dollars have allowed very desirable things to happen. 

I consider paying taxes to be a privilege - a two edged sword of a privilege to be sure - but a privilege nonetheless. This privilege comes with the responsibility of holding our elected officials accountable for the spending of our precious tax resources. There is a time to speak out, to rally - to revolt even. Taxes are a community investment, the dividends of which are elements of daily life that are mostly taken for granted. Government is the the manager of this investment fund, and as often as they mess it up, they also manage to make life better for millions of people. 

I leave the last word to Jesus the Christ, who as far as we know never submitted a tax return:

"...some of the Pharisees and Herodians... said,

'Teacher... is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not?

Should we pay or shouldn’t we...?

Then Jesus said to them,

“Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s

and to God what is God’s.”

(Mark 12.13,17, NIV)

The Color of taxes...

the stone soup of community life.

Severing my own

safety net

I fell

from a great

height

breaking upon

life's

rocky ground

We stand

or fall

Together

Breathe

Listen

Play

To Ponder Further:

- From the Bible: "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ." (Galatians 6.2)

- From Judaism: "All men are responsible for one another." (Talmud, Sanhedrin 27b)

- From Native American Spirituality: "Grant other people something also. The Yamana do not like a person who acts selfishly." (Yamana Eskimo Initiation)

The Color of Identity

“We know what we are,

but not what we may be.” 

(William Shakespeare)

Last Wednesday I co-facilitated the first of fourteen weeks of a group called "Changing Ways" - a healing group for men convicted of domestic violence. These men are not participating voluntarily; they are court-mandated. Their stories are full of anger and hurt, sorrow and violation. As the men came into the room for this first session, their faces betrayed a myriad of emotion - anxiety, uncertainty, shame, stubbornness, fear... Having traversed the rocky shores of our justice system most of them expected to be treated as felons, labelled with a big "A" for abuser. 

Instead, I set the tone by greeting each man by name, shaking his hand, and welcoming him with a smile. I wanted them all to know that I saw brothers sitting before me, fellow men, fellow human beings; all other labels were secondary. In this, I was confronting one of humanity's great questions: who are we? 

“Perhaps it's impossible to wear an identity

without becoming what you pretend to be.” 

(Orson Scott Card, Ender's Game)

Many support/healing groups include an identity aspect - "hello, my name is Bill, and I'm a choc-aholic." This begs the question - what should/does define who we are? When Moses was speaking to the burning bush in the Old Testament story, he asked the bush to tell him who it was that was sending him back to Egypt. The bush responded, "tell the Egyptians 'I am' sends you." God responded by saying that Divine identity is being-ness. Scripture goes on to define God by such attributes as God is a rock, God is a consuming fire, and John's quintessential descriptor - God is Love. 

So how are we to be defined? Are we the labels that others assign to us - fat, tall, drunk, convict...? Are we the titles of our vocation and jobs - farmer, banker, teacher, cashier? Are we the emotional states that often feel so overwhelming in the moment - grief, sorrow, anticipation, wonder, betrayal? 

“Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions

drown out your own inner voice."

(Steve Jobs, Stanford University commencement speech, 2005)

Perhaps no single element should be empowered as ultimate descriptor. Certainly the opinions of others (which are always incomplete and skewed), as well as the warped perspective of media, shall be dismissed from our conversation, for neither provides any useful insight into "I am." What then can speak truth to who I am?

“When I discover who I am,

I’ll be free.” 

(Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man)

Perhaps we are a composite of all our experiences, actions, and thoughts. Our past forms us, along with our DNA, and our spiritual heritage; forms us, but cannot constrain us. We are constantly growing, exceeding our limits, stretching our potential. Just when we think that we are chained to the past, a personal epiphany may release us from those chains, and we are thrust onto new paths of possibility.

We are deep, us humans, deep and complex creatures. The most broken among us have sometimes risen to bathe the world in light, even as the most brilliant have on occasion fallen to the depths. Still, I would submit that neither heights nor depths have the right to utterly hold the brush that paints our portrait. 

The men in the Changing Ways program have all caused wounding in some form or fashion; the women in their lives have suffered at their hands. This is a thread on the loom of their weaving. It is, however, only one thread among many. I counsel us to be careful with "I am" statements. When we profess "I am an abuser" or "I am an alcoholic" we are designating one single lens, one perspective as the sole image from which we are composed. We are, at all times, a kaleidoscope mosaic of colors and shapes, bits and pieces forming a whole. 

In light of all this, who are you?

I leave the last word to the author of Genesis:

"So God created human beings in his own image.

In the image of God he created them;

male and female he created them."

(Genesis 1.27 New Living Translation)

The color of identity...

I am - all of me.

White light

through

a

prism's lens

is

rainbow hued

So too

a

human heart

through

Love's lens

Love

Pray

See

To Ponder Further:

- From the Bible: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” 

(Jeremiah 1.5)

- From Buddhism: "Every being has the Buddha Nature. This is the self." (Mahaparinirvana Sutra 214)

- From Seicho-no-Ie: "Therefore, man, who is spirit, love, and wisdom, is in no way related to matter." (Nectarean Shower of Holy Doctrines 48-49)

The Color of Food, Part III

“Pull up a chair.

Take a taste.

Come join us.

Life is so endlessly delicious.” 

(Ruth Reichl)

We began in the chef's kitchen, sauntered out to the farmer's field, and now we complete our brief food pilgrimage by sitting down to dine. This week we explore the world of eating. 

I have been making regular visits to my 90-year-old father who is in palliative care after breaking his hip a month ago. For the first three weeks of his post-surgery convalescence dad did not eat anything. In fact, for most of that time he had an NPO order on his chart - nil per os; nothing by mouth. His only nourishment was via an intravenous drip. Last week, though, the NPO was lifted, allowing dad to eat whatever he wished. He had a bag of chips! 

Eating is hard for dad; he is very tired, and has barely enough strength some days to feed himself. In addition, the food he is eating is hospital standard fare - lukewarm, and barely yummy. Consequently, he has little motivation to eat. The aforementioned chefs would be aghast at the quality of dad's food. While there are times when survival depends upon the consumption of any available calories, when mouldy bread might be a feast, poor quality food is not the ideal to which we ascribe. 

When we sit to board, the fare before us need not be exotic to be life-giving. It ought, however, to be rich in aroma and flavour, and bursting with nutrients. The fruits of the farmers' labours, through the chrysalis of the chef's kitchen, in metamorphosis become life and breath for us. My dad's final feasts should be filled with such a new-life miracle. 

“One cannot think well,

love well, sleep well, 

if one has not dined well.” 

(Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own)

As a culture we are forgetting how to dine well. In forfeiting slow food (cooking from scratch) we have also forfeited actually experiencing that which we eat. I watch dad slowly and carefully manage each bit, deliberately chewing each mouthful, taking time - even with hospital food. In his last days he is teaching me, calling me to wake up to the gift of food, the wonder of eating. A meal truly eaten is one consumed with mindfulness, awareness, and gratitude. 

When my family and I sit down to sup we take a page from Thich Nhat Hanh's writings, wherein he describes a Vietnamese Buddhist custom. Before eating a bell or gong in invited to intone. As it rings, the diners give silent thanks for the food, and for all who took part in growing and preparing the food. They still themselves, laying the hurry and rush of the day aside, breathing in the aroma of the meal, simply being present to the miracle of the meal. When the vibrations of the bell have ceased they take the first mouthful of their repast, indulging in an explosion of taste. 

“If you can eat with mates or friends or family,

I mean, it's such a brilliant thing isn't it?

If you feel really rubbish

and you have a nice bit of food

it makes you feel good, you know?” 
(Jamie Oliver)

Jamie ties it all up in a nice neat knot: good food eaten in the company of those whose lives are interwoven with our own - this is dining. I sat with dad during supper yesterday; a nurse kindly and gently assisted him in eating; mom and I bathed dad with presence, and the moment birthed holiness. Such is the power of eating, of communing; such is the that mystical dance of field and farmer, cook and kitchen, table, plate, and palate. 

Perhaps it is time that we awoke to the power of good food, slowly cooked, slowly eaten, in the company of our fellow sojourners; the power of life, the gifts of the earth. When next you sit down to eat - smell your meal, taste your meal, let your eating be a Sabbath. 

I leave the last word to poet Kahil Gibran:

“And when you crush an apple with your teeth,

say to it in your heart:

Your seeds shall live in my body,

And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,

And your fragrance shall be my breath,

And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.”

(Kahlil Gibran)

The color of food...

Eden within us.

Good food

shared

sates

our

longing

Breathe

Pray

Eat

To Ponder Further:

- From the Bible: "do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body." (1 Corinthians 6.19-20)

- From Hinduism: "Now will I glorify Food that upholds great strength, by whose invigorating power Trita rent Vitra limb from limb. O pleasant Food, O Food of meath, thee have we chosen for our own, so be our kind protector thou. Come hitherward to us, O Food, auspicious with auspicious help, health-bringing, not unkind, a dear and guileless friend." (Rig Veda, Hymn CLXXXVII. Praise of Food)

- From Celtic Legends: "When thou takest thy food, think of Him who gives it, namely, God, and whilst thinking of His Name, with the word put the first morsel in thy mouth, thank God for it, and entreat His grace and blessing upon it, that it may be for the health of thy body and mind; then thy drink in the same manner." (From the Rudiments of Divinity, Egwyddor Dywiniaeth)

The Color of Food, Part II

“Why sell farming equipment to farmers?

I should cut out the middleman

and sell tractors directly to people dining in restaurants.” 

(Jarod Kintz, This Book is Not FOR SALE)

This week's writing is part II in a three-part series on food. Previously, we considered food from the perspective of world-class chefs - men and women whose passion for food finds expression in the preparation, presentation, and consumption of cuisine at the level of artistry. The very essence of this culinary world is the slowing down of time to draw the diner into full awareness of the richness of a dish's character. 

From the twelve-course meals of Chef Magnus Nilsson we now move back in time, from the table to the kitchen, from the grocer to the field. Today we explore the world of food producers. The title that immediately comes to mind is farmer, and the images conjured may include tractors and combines, boots and jean-jackets, cattle, sheep, horses, and endless acres of fields.  

“Why do farmers farm,

given their economic adversities

on top of the many frustrations

and difficulties normal to farming? 

And always the answer is:

"Love. They must do it for love." 

(Wendell Berry, Bringing it to the Table: On Farming and Food)

Those who are farmers comprise a diverse collection of food-growers. They include family farms, large corporations, micro-farms, and industrial farming. Other threads woven into the food tapestry are more subtle in hue: urban back-yard gardening, grass-roots movements in developing countries, and green house operations add texture to the food production landscape. Add to this market gardens, U-pick operations, and small-scale livestock and/or fruit and vegetable growers. Oh, and let us not forget the caretakers of the fruit of the gods - our local vintners. Through this wide and varied landscape one common thread weaves its way through all food production - food is life.

“There are two spiritual dangers in not owning a farm.

One is the danger of supposing

that breakfast comes from the grocery,

and the other that heat comes from the furnace.” 

(Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac)

There is something deeply soulful about growing food. On one level it is a necessity for the functioning of our

physical being. Somehow, somewhere food must grow, and we must consume it. Food is incarnational - it is about being en-fleshed. Deeper tones resonate within the soulfulness of food, however. Food is not simply consumed - it becomes us. I have read that some cannibal tribes believed that when a warrior consumed the flesh of their enemies they took their enemies powers into themselves. So too with food; we take into ourselves the constituent elements of what we eat, receiving the power of life, of renewal, of healing... or of self-destruction if what we ingest is unwholesome. 

While the Chef's Table reveals the intimate relationship of cooking and eating, it is in the growing of food wherein the chef's meal obtains its rich flavors. We are tied to the land, connected through blood and bone, carbon and water. Every time we inhale the savory aromas of, oh say a beef stew and biscuits for example, something ancient draws us back to the land through the fragrance of the meal. When we eat food that is highly processed the bouquet of the earth becomes very difficult to find; we become cut off from that which sustains us.

All who grow food, from a pot of herbs on the balcony to 100,000 acre grain farms  - all who grow food are invested in humanity's survival. Growing food is perhaps the most quintessentially human thing that we do. 

I leave the last word to Joel Salatin:

“A farm includes the passion of the farmer's heart,

the interest of the farm's customers,

the biological activity in the soil,

the pleasantness of the air about the farm

(Joel Salatin, Everything I Want to Do Is Illegal: War Stories from the Local Food Front)

The color of food...

the heartbeat of the earth.

I eat

therefore

I

am

It is

that

simple

Plant

Tend

Pray

To Ponder Further:

- From the Bible: "Then God said, "Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the surface of all the earth, and every tree which has fruit yielding seed; it shall be food for you; and to every beast of the earth and to every bird of the sky and to every thing that moves on the earth which has life, I have given every green plant for food"; and it was so." (Genesis 1.29-30)

- From Sikhism: "This earth is a garden, the Lord its gardener, cherishing all, none neglected." (Adi Granth, Mahj Ashtpadi 1, M.3, p. 118)

- From the Unification Church: "God's hand has touched even every small blade of grass which grows in the field.... All creatures we see contain God's deep heart and tell the story of God's deep love." (Sun Myung Moon, 6-28-59)