Unintended Consequences

How good and pleasant it is
when brothers live together in unity!
It is like precious oil poured on the head,
running down on the beard,
running down on Aaron's beard,
down upon the collar of his robes.
It is as if the dew of Hermon
were falling on Mount Zion.
For there the Lord bestows his blessing,
even life forevermore.

-Psalm 133

I'm not a fan of buzz words. I'm not entirely sure where this comes from, but in my sometimes cynical and over-thinking mind, a disdain for buzz words has developed. I think it has something to do with a lack of creativity. Too often, a lack of creativity is buoyed by a lack of intelligence. In high school Sunday School you're constantly told 'there is no right answer', yet those that speak the most--and in turn receive a healthy dose of affirmation--consistently say the same fews words. Herein lies the difference between convergence and divergence. Phrases like, 'I have a praise!', or 'God really laid it on my heart to bring this up' merely scratch the surface of cliched jargon which would be acceptable if you worked in an IT department. But, for something as amazing as grace (cliche alert!), one would think more than a handful of phrases could be conjured. In college, this overall negativity towards run of the mill words and sayings within the sub-culture of southern Christianity were centered on a single word--community.

Among buzz words, community walks the fine line of uber-Christian and somewhat hip. While not quite on the level of 'guard your heart'--which I believe many people spout about not knowing the full verse out of Proverbs, 'above all else guard your heart for it is the wellspring of life'--it was close. The tight jeaned worship leaders waxed eloquent about the virtues of community. Small groups changed their names to community groups. In the buzz book of 2005, Donald Miller devoted entire chapters in Blue Like Jazz to the benefits of community. By the time I was a junior in college, the word 'community' had permeated my life in a way unseen since the word 'no' dominated my life as a 4 year old.

For the record, I'm not against community by definition. Clearly, the benefits of living with one another outweigh those of living isolated. I have seen this in others. I have lived this myself. However, the convergence upon one term to describe this annoys me. I know, who cares, it's just the opinion of some hack guy in front of a monitor and keyboard. But hey, this is self-indulgence at its finest (save for maybe Twitter) and I believe people are smart enough to come up with new ways of description.

I started reading Outliers a few weeks ago. At worst, the book is interesting. At best, it is fascinating. Malcolm Gladwell weaves the stories of 20th century giants through a combination of preparation and opportunity. He brands what we'd typically call coincidence into the very opposite. For instance, there's a very real reason why the magnates of computer enterprise were all born in the same 5-6 year period. In evaluating luck, we often think of lottery winners. Men like Bill Gates are not lucky. They had a unique opportunity, coupled with unique preparation at a unique period in history that enabled them to become what they are. Expanding your thinking. That's Gladwell's goal.

The introductory chapter tells a story of Italian immigrants. They settle in a non-descript area in Pennslyvania, sandwiched between two distinct towns of other European immigrants. After some time, the town (relatively) booms and a Main Street with a church, eateries, and bars pop up. The Italians are blue-collar, hard working people. After some time, a medical researcher arrives after hearing reports that in some indeterminable amount of time (I can't remember because I don't have the book in front of me, so let's call it 50 years) no one in this town has had a heart attack of heart disease. As with most science, the researcher looks doggedly for a physical explanation. Surely, being Italian, these people cooked with olive oils and ate healthier than their immigrant neighbors. Not the case, as the Italians had changed to cooking with lard, and loaded their pizzas with sauce and meats. Well, it must have been genetic, as most of the residents had to be slender and in shape as demanded by their blue collar trade. Also wrong. Many of the town residents were overweight and in poor physical condition. What then, was the explanation? After spending an indeterminable amount of time (again, no book, so let's say 3 months) he begins to see what makes these Italians healthy. Community. They cooked with each other, had large gatherings that included multiple families with multiple generations, and stopped in with friends after a long day of work. That community, that connectivity to one another, granted that town more vitality than any medicine or doctor could. In a succinct explanation of his book title, Gladwell writes about the medical researcher's conclusion. In the medical arena, the town was an outlier.

Community grants vitality. That's a statement most people can get behind, save for the truly introverted. Happiness is directly correlational to vitality. You see it all the time; when people come home from work they kneel down to greet their pet, or where an artist breathes a sigh of satisfaction after completing their version of the Sistine Chapel. But the idea that being in the presence of those you care about will improve your health is incredible, but not revolutionary. It's just like the Psalmist said, "How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity!" Word.