polite ethical vegetarian

One rather unremarkable day in January of the spring semester 2017, I was walking through campus on the way to get a cup of coffee before heading into my afternoon class. I was brushing past friends and acquaintances every second, greeting people and keeping up my pace, and suddenly I had walked right up to a new face. Someone was standing there in the middle of campus handing out flyers or brochures of some kind, and it was such an unusual occurrence that before I could think to ignore them and move on, I was taking one of their brochures and saying "Thank you." When I walked into the TWUSA office, several of my fellow students were holding the same brochures. We started chuckling with each other as we began to piece together what they were: little flyers raising awareness for the unethical treatment of animals, a random cause for us to be suddenly approached by. The flyers were corny and awkwardly designed, and didn't resemble anything we'd seen on campus before. Funnier still, aside from a picture of a pig that was supposed to draw pity, most of the photos were of celebrities who were apparently vegetarian - as if that fact was somehow the most persuasive. We all mocked and joked the random brochures and chucked them into the recycle before heading off to class. I never saw the flyers or those handing them out again.


I was surprised that I kept thinking about it.


Something inside me felt strange about my own laughter, kept thinking about how easily I had mocked the picture of that pig.


Later - I'm not sure whether it was a few hours or a few days later - I was doing my Hebrew homework, translating Isaiah 1. God said,

11 “What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices?    says the Lord;I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams    and the fat of well-fed beasts;I do not delight in the blood of bulls,    or of lambs, or of goats.12 “When you come to appear before me,    who has required of you    this trampling of my courts?13 Bring no more vain offerings;    incense is an abomination to me.New moon and Sabbath and the calling of convocations—    I cannot endure iniquity and solemn assembly.14 Your new moons and your appointed feasts    my soul hates;they have become a burden to me;    I am weary of bearing them.15 When you spread out your hands,    I will hide my eyes from you;even though you make many prayers,    I will not listen;    your hands are full of blood.16 Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean;    remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes;cease to do evil,17     learn to do good;seek justice,    correct oppression;bring justice to the fatherless,    plead the widow's cause.18 “Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord:though your sins are like scarlet,    they shall be as white as snow;though they are red like crimson,    they shall become like wool.19 If you are willing and obedient,    you shall eat the good of the land;20 but if you refuse and rebel,    you shall be eaten by the sword;    for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

It wasn't the line about the "blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats" that stood out to me. In fact, it wasn't necessarily any specific line that stood out to me. Through even a brief study and exegesis, I knew that the passage wasn't talking about the ethical treatment of animals at all. But something about God's heart stood out to me. Especially pouring over it in Hebrew, I felt a tinge of God's passion for justice, how nothing escapes His compassion. Not the fatherless, not the widow, not the oppressed. And in my desire to be like Him... I couldn't believe I thought about that pig again. But it wasn't even really about the pig. It was about the fact that I realized I'd chosen to ignore a cruel, abusive, oppressive industry because I liked to eat meat. I couldn't make it past the first line of what Dr. Buchner called the Great Commission of the Old Testament: cease to do evil.


In previous years I'd watched the horrifying documentaries about food industries, and honestly I'd gone to get a burger right afterward. I didn't need to do research; I knew that the industry and factory system producing meat to feed North America was absolutely horrendous. I knew about chickens so pumped with growth hormones that they can't even stand up - not that it would do them any good because they live their lives in a cage too small for them to move about, caked in their own feces. I'd discussed these issues in my philosophy class a year prior. But still, it had never meant much to me.


Suddenly, it did mean something. Nothing radical - I didn't go ranting on Facebook or holding signs or even handing out flyers. It wasn't images from the documentaries or vegetarian celebrities that finally made the change. And the change itself wasn't even grand. But over the course of a few unremarkable days, I decided that my eating had to come under the headship of Christ. I was reminded that animals are living creatures, handmade by their Creator, and that in the original state of Eden, there was no death at all. And I was reminded that I am called to care for creation, to steward it and help it flourish, not to abuse it for my own pleasure.


So I took a little step, and deciding to stop buying meat unless I knew it was ethically raised, a condition which I didn't even fully know how to articulate yet. I still ate whatever food was given me in the homes of friends or relatives; I guess I didn't want to suddenly become a pretentious Portlander who seemed judgmental and ungrateful for already-made food. So I came to refer to myself as a "polite ethical vegetarian." It was such a small decision; I don't even remember the day. I don't think I even considered that I'd still be doing it a year-and-a-half later.


That little step was the first of several small, justice-oriented commitments that I didn't really realize I'd committed to until I was living them. Suddenly I remembered that my coffee was likely harvested by children working for underpaid and exploited farmers - I had to find coffee sources I could trust. Then I was reminded of the ugly industries behind most clothing, and I had to limit my purchases to second-hand or fair trade and open-factory brands. These were all causes I knew of before, injustices I'd known were occurring for years. Things just kind of clicked into place without sensationalism as I started trying to live for the heart of God I saw in Isaiah 1.



Our church is currently learning about how to practice the way of Jesus by eating and drinking. We were exhorted tonight to remember that we have the opportunity to use our eating and drinking both to fight injustice and to seek justice. This might be in relation to our objectification of animals for our food, or it might be a re-evaluation of how we are helping the hungry. While this might seem like a random topic or blog post, it is part of my current learning process. While I've become comfortable making a tiny stand against the injustice of industrialized degradation of animals, I know I have so much further I want to go. God's heart is huge, and mine is just growing bit by bit. Tonight was we prayed I saw chosen children, little African faces jumping and smiling that I knew deserved life, not the hunger they are likely facing right now. I'm not sure what my next step will be. I hope that by reading this you'll consider how you can pursue God's heart for justice. Whether we eat or drink, or do anything else, let us do it all for the glory of God and the love of all He has made.





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