Plastic Jesus excerpt #1

Since I've had a number of encouraging emails regarding the release of "Plastic Jesus" this month, I thought I would post an excerpt from each chapter to give ya'll a feel of what the book is about. I'd love your feedback if you get a chance. Of course, Navpress would love you to buy it. ;-)

Table of Contents

Chapter One: When Suburbia Loses Its Appeal
Chapter Two: Keeping up with the Jones’s (On Identity)
Chapter Three: A Promising Career (On Calling)
Chapter Four: A Television in Every Room (on Doubt and Discouragement)
Chapter Five: A Powerful SUV (On Discovery and Learning)
Chapter Six: A Really Big House (On Intimacy With God)
Chapter Seven: A Perfect Lawn (On Brokenness)
Conclusion: Rethinking Suburbia

Chapter One

When Suburbia Loses It Appeal

“How are the breasts?” His question brought me out of my stupor and focused my attention back to the task at hand. No doubt this dapper forty-something’s silicone-invested wife purposely had her assets on display, but I was a waiter and a purported follower of Christ. Both roles had momentarily been put on the backburner in lieu of this visual burden.
“Whoa. I’m sorry for being so rude, please forgive me.” I muttered, swallowing my pride and lifting my eyes to make contact with Mr. Dapper.
Oddly, his face was buried in the menu and not glaring at me.
“What do you mean? You’re not being rude. I was just wondering which of the specials you recommend—the chicken breast Oscar or the hazelnut Shrimp.”
That was close. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Go with the hazelnut shrimp.” I suggested, partly because I wanted nothing more to do with breasts for a few minutes.
“And for you ma’am, what can I get for you?” I said returning to Mrs. Silicone, this time with disciplined eyes.
“I’ve lost my appetite. Just give me a salad.”
I detected a bit of cayenne bite in her response. A bite not directed at me, but to Mr. Dapper across the table.
I’ve been a waiter long enough to know when a couple has brought into public something that should have been dealt with in the car, and I knew trouble was brewing.
“Right away” I responded, making a hasty retreat.
Sure enough, as the evening unfolded Ken and Barbie unraveled. She left with tears; he left without remembering my tip. Oh, well. On this night I’d rather be broke than broken.
Who would’ve guessed it? Of all the people I run into during my everyday, hurry-up-and-wait life, who would have thought that this suburban couple, who shone success and good looks on the outside, could have been experiencing so much decay underneath? They had likely driven to the restaurant in a nice car and flashed their freshly- whitened teeth while palming the maître d' a twenty in order to get a preferred seat in the restaurant (due to the water view, not the waiter view). All so that they could enjoy a pleasant make-believe evening. But something was percolating underneath that exterior of perfection. Something painful, something avoided, and something that needed to get out.

Not What We Appear to Be
The suburbs are filled with picture-perfect couples who live in picture-perfect houses that could double as palaces in most third world countries. One could naively drive through these communities, see the manicured lawns and oil-free driveways, and assume that since all is well outside, all must be well on the inside.
But we are not that naïve. We know money can’t buy happiness. It can only buy the therapy that helps us cope without it. We know that a big house can’t buy close family relationships. It can only create more room in which family members can hide from each other. We know that a powerful SUV doesn’t provide freedom. It only provides the illusion that “If I really wanted to, I could leave the pavement that surrounds my life.”
No, life in suburbia is not always what it appears to be. Author David Brooks agrees.
He writes these insightful words:

America, especially suburban America, is depicted as a comfortable but somewhat vacuous realm of unreality: consumerist, wasteful, complacent, materialistic, and self-absorbed. Sprawling, shopping, Disneyfied Americans have cut themselves off from the sources of enchantment, the things that really matter. They have become too concerned with small and vulgar pleasures, pointless one-upmanship, and easy values. They have become at once too permissive and too narrow, too self-indulgent and too timid. Their lives are distracted by a buzz of trivial images, by relentless hurry instead of genuine contemplation, information rather than wisdom, and a profusion of superficial choices.

Well said, Brooks. But while Brooks is pointing fingers at literal suburbia, Jesus is pointing his finger to a different location—spiritual suburbia. Only the true light of God can help us put into words what we have been sensing for quite some time—that all is not well in spiritual suburbia.

***** well, that's a bit of chapter one****** more later...