The Palace and The Castle: Productivity vs. Fruitfulness
Malice at the Palace
Some of you reading these posts know a bit about my story. In 2007 I moved to a small town in China, only 600,000 people. I met my wife, a white woman, in China. This in itself was a spectacular event – I am in fact the first Caucasian man in world history to move to China and end up with a non-Asian wife. The Marco Polo of white women.
In 2009, at the height of the financial crisis in America, we opted not to return home and instead moved to Shanghai. Living in Shanghai was a wild ride, which I’ve written about previously. In 2017, we adopted our son, my buddy, the joy of my life. He is aggressively cute, sent by God to seek and melt the hearts of hard-hearted and joyless people. In early 2018, when the adoption was finalized we moved back to the US and the 11-year China madness was over.
Those of you “repatriated expatriates” know the transition from overseas back to home country is difficult. The longer you were gone, the harder it is to go back. Since returning, I often wrestle with the question “Now what?”
In China, there was always something going on or a new challenge to conquer. There was a frantic energy about Shanghai, a whole town innovating and trying out new things. At the same time, you often felt a lack of permanence, whether it be in the buildings, the businesses or the makeup of the expat community.
As I edge closer to forty, there is a draw to permanence, away from the chaos and excitement (midlife crisis!?). I am asking myself new questions like “What is worth doing?” and “What lasts?” These questions have intensified in the midst of COVID and the apparent unraveling of American society. In the stress of it all I find myself wanting to be a part of something larger than me. To be a part of something that has been going on before I was alive and will continue after I am gone.
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Many famous figures in American history have depressing and disturbing lives. Cotton Mather was a puritan minister who rose to the top of American society in the 1600s. He was a sought-after speaker and prolific writer, producing hundreds of books and articles in his lifetime. He toured the country and the world, and spoke and influenced some of the most important politicians and thinkers of his day. He was astoundingly productive. But his message, his calling, his life's work, none of them stood the test of time. Towards the end of his long life he became anxious and bitter. Newer, younger minds were beginning to dismantle the legacy he'd built.[1]
What is worth doing in life? What stands the test of time?
In Detroit we make such a big deal out of our sports teams, which is ironic considering how terrible they are. However, back in 2004, they weren’t all terrible. In fact the Pistons won the NBA championship that year. My brother and I used to hop into his 1985 Monte Carlo and drive up to the Palace of Auburn Hills to watch the games. These were the “glory days” of Ben Wallace, Rip Hamilton, Chauncey, Rasheed, and Tayshaun Prince. The Bad Boys 2.0, the crowning achievement (in our minds) being the infamous “Malice at the Palace”.
Now, the Palace is being torn down. All that money, and time, and emotional, mental, physical energy being worn away by the passage of time. The city of Auburn Hills used to be the home of the Palace, but it also has a large garbage dump. Most people don’t know this but the dump is right down the street from the Palace. In a few years, the Palace will resemble that garbage dump more than an actual palace.
Productive vs. Fruitful
In his book The Celebration of Discipline[2] Richard Foster talks at length about the discipline of solitude. Solitude is not meant to give us renewed energy for the “rat race”, but rather to lead us to place where we will give up on the rat race all together. (This is in stark contrast to how we normally view rest.)
Modern society demands that we ‘produce’ and ‘consume’. Our system is fed by the twin arms of production and consumption; and in the system of the World these two ideas give us our value and identity. You are only as good as what you produce. The Palace of Auburn Hills without an NBA championship is just a garbage dump. Cotton Mather without his books and articles is just a no-name pastor from an obscure era; a worthless grain of sand in the desert of world history.
It’s very twisted that we also use this production standard to measure our spiritual leaders. For example, Richard Foster wrote this wonderful book, which I’ve taken so much fruit from. But what if he had been a lousy writer? Or what if instead of being signed to a major publishing company, he had been signed to a small publishing company and his book died in literary obscurity? 500 copies with poorly designed, ugly jacket covers just rotting away in some retired publisher’s garage in a box (i.e. a book coffin). Would that have made him any less of a spiritual giant? Would that have invalidated his encounters with God? Consumption and production run so deep, and yet a lack of them do not point to spiritual failure.
I have struggled lately to use my time and energy to pursue things with real value and fruitfulness. Three days ago, I finally cleaned out my Gmail inbox. I had over 1000 unread emails. I know some of you have more.
There were emails from 1 month ago, 3 months ago, 6 months, a year, 2 years, 5 years. What struck me as I was going through these emails was that, at the time, the events in these emails seemed like THE MOST important thing in the world to me. I expended so much energy dealing with these tasks. Now, months and years later I can see that many of those things yielded zero fruit, even though they seemed so important at the time. What a mountain of task-filled trash!
I am trying to understand the difference between what is of real value, and what is just “value” based off of our society’s definition. In the book of second Corinthians in the Bible it says that “what is unseen is eternal”[3], but rarely do I place importance on what I can’t see tangible results from. In making major decisions, I tend to shy away from those that only yield fruit after a long period of time.
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I was inspired during a trip to Germany last summer. In the small mountain town of Marburg, at the top of the highest hill, sits a castle. On the back of a small moped, with my 300+ pound German friend driving, we drove up the hill to see the castle. The hill is incredibly steep and we were moving about 2 mph up the road. The ridiculous sight of two grown men sitting on a tiny bike, moving slowly up a hill caused pedestrians to laugh out loud when they saw us pass by. I was enthralled by the sight of Germans laughing – something I had heard was a myth.
At the top of the hill sits a beautiful and majestic castle.[4] It took the builders over 100 years to finish. Despite the steepness of the hill, they hauled huge stones up to the summit during its construction.
I want to have the mindset of the person who conceived building this castle. They must have thought, “If I begin this and the next generation sticks with it, and the generation after that does as well, then perhaps they will live to see its completion.” It’s a testament to their foresight and dedication that the castle has survived multiple world wars, bombings, upheavals and all kinds of changes in society. It stands in stark contrast to the Palace, a mindless monument to production and consumption.
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Recently, I've been learning about “Tov”, a Hebrew word blandly translated as “good'”, however the concept itself indicates “something that is able to give life or reproduce itself”. It's a broad concept, that doesn't just apply in the biological sense. For example, art can be Tov or not Tov, a relationship or an organization can be Tov or not Tov. In the Genesis origin narrative, God declares creation Tov.[aa]
Tov-ness is weaved into our purpose and identity. The first command God gives human beings is to be “be fruitful”[5] and again after the Flood reboot, he says to “be fruitful”.[6] This doesn’t necessarily mean go out and have nine kids because your cable subscription expired. It's about being a part of something that was going on before us and will continue to go on long after we’re gone. Now, is our time to be alive and join in this dance that's been happening since the beginning of time. Where do we fit in to all? What's our small moment of fruitfulness?
References:
1. Kendi, IX. Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America (2016) Bold Type Books.
2. Foster, Richard. Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth (1978) Harper San Francisco.
3. 2 Corinthians 4:18
4. “Marburger Schloss” https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marburger_Schloss (in German)
aa. Genesis 1: But I don't want to confuse you – Tov is not necessarily a Christian thing. (As we understand the term “Christian” in modern America, with all of its disastrous baggage). Just because something is Christian doesn't make it Tov and just because something isn't Christian doesn't make it not Tov.
5. Genesis 1:28
6. Genesis 9