Review: Food Inc.

Anyone that goes to Epic for even a short period of time will find out pretty quickly that we are quite the "foodie" conglomerate. Some of our most intimate interactions happen over lunch, house church potlucks, or a weekend dinner. We all enjoy a good meal, but more often than not don't really think about its origin, nor do we often prefer to.

Looking into the faults of our food system can seem like opening up a bottomless can of worms that is ultimately hopeless. Just about everything is wrong with it, so why even bother trying to fix it? Robert Kenner's documentary Food Inc. presents a wealth of starting points without overwhelming its audience with the multiple problems we can face when we walk into a grocery store or restaurant just trying to find a decent, affordable meal.

While I could attempt to rehash the film, I'd like to share a review written by one of my long-time journalism icons, Mary F. Pols, who can identify with those folks that may be a little sick and tired of hearing that doom is lurking around the corner if they eat a hamburger: Find Review Here.

I promise I am not pushing you all to go see this film just because I am "one of those vegetarians." It's really important to evaluate how our food choices affect the environment, our health, and the access our impoverished neighbors have to healthy choices. You shouldn't have to be middle class to be able to buy organic or get decent health education. One of the most heartbreaking scenes in the film was the story of a low-income immigrant family that faces the harsh reality that a fast-food hamburger is cheaper than a couple of apples. Guys, we need to take better care of each other, especially with something as simple as food. This movie is an easy place to start doing some research and learning how we can vote with the contents of our shopping carts for a more transparent food system that provides greater, healthier resources to Americans of every ethnicity, age and socioeconomic level.

- And if you want to watch a film that hits this point home right in our Los Angeles backyard, check out the documentary "The Garden." Just ask me if you want to borrow it sometime. :)

The Sound of Music

This weekend I had the pleasure of attending not one but two concerts with some of Epic’s fellow music aficionados. Upon retrospect, I would probably never recommend doing this, as it drives your energy level into seemingly irreversible low zones (but when two of your favorite bands are playing the same weekend, what is one to do?). However, this auditory overload allowed me to remember why it is that I love the musical experience so much.

I use the word “experience” because it goes far beyond just listening. Music is a deeply spiritual art for me; random combinations of sounds can make me feel close to God. Most people lean one of two ways in relation to how they enjoy music: listening for good lyrics or listening for good sound. I am definitely the latter, and can honestly listen to an album a dozen times without ever really paying attention to the lyrics. This is not to diminish the power of a well-written song; it’s just how I’m wired.

While they may seem confusing or even unnecessary to some, there can be such freedom in experiencing abstract, diverse sounds. Music takes me many directions either in memory, my current doings, or dreams of places I have never been. They can mean any million things to any one person; a song can make someone burst into tears while making someone else want to jump up and down in joy. Everyone has their own musical experience and their own musical tastes - no judging here! :) 

Most of the time, good music makes me want to move. When I was a kid and my mom played piano in our living room, my brother and I would run and jump and dance all around the room. When I learned how to drive, I discovered the joy of just travelling nowhere in particular, with a favorite CD turned up as loud as I wanted, until I’d gotten out whatever restless bug was in my system (I still love doing this now). It’s no secret that I have a passion for dance. It brings to life everything that I love both physically and emotionally, providing a rich spiritual experience for me. It's almost impossible for me to sit still when a rhythm really gets going. I may not understand what a series of sounds means, and certainly can’t explain that meaning in words, but I can communicate them through movement.

I think it is important for everyone to have some cathartic, creative experience they can use to communicate the incommunicable. For me, this is dance; for others, it may be painting, construction, a sport, or music itself. I cannot wait to experience community in heaven because I think our ability to create will only be opened up a thousand-fold. The better we understand who we are and what we love, the better we can express ourselves and encourage others to foster their own means of expression.

I love seeing creativity blossom at Epic, and I honestly wish we saw more of it. I totally understand the fear to share one’s own art; I am one of the worst with this. It’s easier to let things stay in your head than put them out there for someone to judge or re-define. But for me, keeping my creative output bottled up for too long makes me feel isolated and unfulfilled. I feel like no one really knows the true me, that there is no one that would be able to hear what I actually think a song means or read one of my essays without thinking I’m weird or incompetent or untalented. But the point of art is not to be perfect or the best; it’s to share our deepest experiences honestly, in love. I hope that we can learn to feel safe in this community to express what may be difficult but necessary.

As for me, I hope to have the time someday to bring dance to Epic, especially for our kids. I get such a kick out of seeing kids move to their own rhythm and make up all kinds of random stuff, just as I got to do to my mom’s piano at home. But for now I just want to get better at sharing my experiences with art and how I find God’s beauty in them, and I would love to hear about those of others.