Envying Yourself? (439)

Living with Yourself, a new series on Netflix starring Paul Rudd, is a highly entertaining comedy that also raises some profound issues about our human condition. Here’s the premise: Miles Elliot has a good job, a loving wife, but he’s still in a funk. He just doesn’t feel right or fulfilled or whatever, so he listens to a co-worker about how he had improved his life by going to this special spa. Miles wants this improvement, too, so he goes to the place called Top Happy Spa, even though he’s completely unaware of what the spa really does. At the spa, the attendants put him to sleep with an anesthetic gas after telling him he’ll be like a whole new person when he wakes up.

He actually wakes up that night buried in a forest wrapped in plastic and wearing only an adult diaper. He digs his way out, makes it to a highway where he gets his bearings, and then finds his way home on foot (no one picks up a hitchhiking adult wearing a diaper in the middle of the night!). There, he finds another version of himself. He learns he’s been cloned at the spa with all his imperfections removed. The old Miles was supposed to be dead in the forest, so the new Miles could live on. I won’t write any more as I don’t want to spoil the rest of the series for you. It’s worth your time to watch.

The conceit of the show asks the question (among others): What would you do or how would you react if you met a perfected version of yourself, one with no blemishes or flaws? That person is creative and energetic at work, empathetic and tender with their spouse, and kind and considerate to the rest of the world. And that person is that way all the time and not so inconsistently like we are. This idealized version of yourself, just by their presence, would constantly let you know just how you don’t measure up.

If we’re honest with ourselves, it’s hard enough at times living in the world with people who’ve achieved more than we have, who are smarter than us, or who appear happier than we are. That’s called envy and we all suffer from it to some extent. Envy is admiration gone sour by sin. Let me explain. At one time or another, we all find ourselves admiring something someone has done or said or some achievement they’ve accomplished. That’s all well and good. But then the admiration stops and the envy takes over. We want to have said what they’ve said. We want to have achieved what they’ve accomplished. We want what they have. Our envy of others serves as a reminder of how we aren’t as good as they are (or, at least that’s what we think).

In Living with Yourself the cloned version of Miles serves as a reminder that his old self is inferior to his new self. The show’s irony is Miles now finds himself envious of himself! If such a thing happened to us, the cloned, perfected version of ourselves would serve in much the same way St Paul understood the Law (Torah) in the Bible. God’s Law is perfect. Our failure to keep it completely exposes our sin and fallen-shortness, which leads us (hopefully) to rely not on our own capacity to keep God’s Law, but on the merits and mediation of Jesus on the cross, which we call Grace. Living with Yourself exposes the human condition complete with the all the human (little l) laws we have for one another in our relationships. It’s very good (though not perfect) TV theology.

+Scott

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A Bronze Lining Playbook #436

Baseball is 90% mental and the other half is physical. – Yogi Berra

Insightful work is going on in cognitive research on how we respond when we face a loss or a disappointment in life. Dr. Laurie Santos, a Yale psychology professor who teaches a class there called “Psychology and the Good Life,” reports on cognitive biases all humans share and how our brains play tricks on us. On her podcast episode, “A Silver Lining,” she shares study results of Olympic medal winners across decades. These studied the faces of medal winners immediately after their event and as they were receiving their medals at the formal ceremony. The researchers had independent people judge the various facial reactions on a scale of 1-10 with 1 being “agony” and 10 being “ecstasy.” Their consistent findings show that the Bronze Medalist is nearly twice as likely to show ecstasy (Score = 7.6) than the Silver Medalist, most of whom show a look closer to agony (Score = 4.0). And yet, the Silver Medal is a higher medal than the Bronze. Shouldn’t Silver Medalists be happier than Bronze Medalists? After all, they finished one place higher. The psychologists explain this incongruity by pointing toward our human “Reference Points.” The Bronze Medalist’s point of reference is all those below her (4th place and farther) who didn’t achieve a medal. So, she’s happy she finished high enough to earn a medal. The Silver Medalist, however, references only to the place above her, the Gold Medalist, and thus exhibits agony.

Similar research has also been conducted in comparing people’s compensation in jobs. It would be rational for a person to prefer a job making $100,000 more than one making $50,000. And if that’s all there is to it, then that’s clearly people’s preference. When people, however, learn that they’re making $100,000, but others in the same company are making more, then they report less happiness than if they were making $50,000 in another company and everyone else was making less than they were. Their job preference changes based on the reference point they use. If they “reference up,” then they’ll tend to be unhappy. But if they “reference down,” then they’re liable to be happy with their situation.

What this psychological research on reference points exposes is the spiritual malady called envy (one of Seven Deadly Sins). Melanie Klein, author of Envy and Gratitude, writes that envy is a human drive that produces personal desolation because it keeps those who are envious from recognizing their own gifts and talents. Envious people can’t accept who they are and the good they represent because they’re constantly referencing themselves to others who they perceive as having more in some way. This isn’t a small matter. It’s the source of much of the evil meted out in this world. We all suffer from this sin to one extent or another (I know I do!). If it’s something occasional that we can name and laugh at for our pettiness, then it won’t cause desolation. If, however, it dominates how we experience our lives, then it’ll destroy us. Our lived experience, like baseball, is 90% mental (thank you, Yogi!). Until our reference points move away from envying others who we perceive on some level as being better than us, we’ll be unable to reference the blessings we already have and the blessings we are to others.

+Scott

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There’s a fine line between admiration and envy. Envy is admiration gone spiritually toxic when we no longer appreciate others for their accomplishments or virtues, but rather our admiration has devolved into resentment, desperately wanting what the other has. Often this stance has violent results on both interpersonal and communal levels. As the Epistle of James states in chapter 4: Those conflicts and disputes among you, where do they come from? Do they not come from your cravings that are at war within you? You want something and do not have it; so you commit murder. And you covet something and cannot obtain it; so you engage in disputes and conflicts.

The late French historian and philosopher Rene Girard made this observation about our human condition a part of his theory of mimetic desire. Girard contended that all our desires are in a way derived from other people by what we see them desiring. This desire produces mimetic rivalry when other people have something we now crave (James 4). Girard said that virtually all human conflict originates in mimetic rivalry. Human culture dealt with this rivalry through religious scapegoat sacrifice, which “pays the debt” of the mimetic rivalry and thus ends the escalating violence. Girard went on to argue that in the Bible God denounces mimetic rivalry through the scapegoating of Jesus while still using his sacrifice to forgive and justify us.

If Girard is just a little bit right, then it should be no surprise to us that marketers of merchandize capitalize on this mimetic desire and the consequent mimetic rivalry. Presented for your consideration: The Birkin Bag, a woman’s handbag that costs over $10,000. It’s a large, boxy, leather purse owned by the likes of the late Elizabeth Taylor and the very much alive Beyonce. Women apparently go on a waiting list just to get on the waiting list so they can then someday buy a Birkin Bag. They’re seemingly always out of stock, marketing the bag by playing hard to get. People who sell the bag haze potential purchasers, which then creates in the one being hazed a sense that some day she might be worthy enough to actually own a Birkin Bag. You can hear about it here: www.npr.org/2015/12/31/461627675/with-the-birkin-bag-hermes-plays-hard-to-get

In a way that echoes Girardian theory, NPR reported: “We all want to be part of some club that’s just out of our reach. NPR interviewed a woman who first saw a Birkin Bag being carried by a woman walking on her block. She then waited for over a year until she was finally found “worthy” enough to own one. She admitted she was well aware of being emotionally manipulated the whole time, but she now declares: “I just feel more confident when walking down the street with my Birkin on my shoulder. While she wasn’t willing to kill to get one (I assume, I don’t know), it was the focus of her attention for over a year. Now before I’m accused of picking on a particular gender, let me just write this: Big Pick-Up Trucks, or else, any New Electronic Gadget.

Girard was on to something. We know what’s happening to us, we know we’re being manipulated by mimetic desire and mimetic rivalry, and yet we still fall into this devilish trap, don’t we? Who will save us from our own selves? (see Romans 7:15-25).

+Scott