Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Bourbon Street and thoughts on the nature of temptation

I may have been to New Orleans a time or two in my life without ever walking down Bourbon Street, but I can't remember it if I have. Bourbon Street is New Orleans in so many ways, arguably one of the most famous streets in the country, if not the world.
Over the years, Bourbon Street has changed, but in subtle ways. It still holds out the lure (for lack of a better word) of what I guess can be called the dark side of humanity. But as Bourbon Street has grown older, it is not as seedy as it once was, even though it is still pretty seedy. The old-timers can tell you about how it used to be the center for brothels and gambling and so many of those things we used to call 'vices' but now are politely called 'matters of personal choice.'
(Sidebar: I remember when I was very little, I was riding in the car with my family in Pensacola, Fla. There was a building that was notorious for having been the 'red light' building, or a brothel. I didn't know what that meant so of course I asked my mother. She described it as a place where you could find women who you could pay to pretend to be your wife. In my very young mind, I thought that was nice: a place where sailors who were far from home could find women who would cook and clean for them and let them watch TV in their living rooms while the men were far from home.)
Anyway, as I walked down Bourbon the other night, I started thinking about the nature of temptation. That's what Bourbon Street is really all about, of course: temptation. Those of us who have frequented New Orleans - and, therefore, Bourbon Street and the French Quarter - have seen how people seem to get to Bourbon Street and forget who they are. Being there becomes an excuse to be someone they only dream about being when they are at home.
As I walked by bars filled with smoke, I thought about how I've never really been tempted to smoke. Perhaps it was from watching relatives of mine who died from emphysema, but who couldn't give up smoking even while near death. Or perhaps it was just the foul smell of cigarette smoke. Plus, I tried it  once and almost choked to death. It was one of those things that struck me as, "If I have to learn to enjoy it, why not just spend that time doing something I already enjoy?" Amazing how much of my life has been guided by that principle.
I walked by bars filled with people drinking alcohol, and realize I've never really been tempted to drink. Oh, I've tried that, too. But again, I never found an alcoholic drink that I liked the taste of and - well, see the principle above. Plus, I witnessed people doing too many truly stupid things, being truly offensive in their actions as well as their words, after drinking even just a few glasses of alcohol. If alcohol made them be that way, then I wanted no part of it because I have always been afraid of not being in control of myself, of what my  unregulated self might be like if I lost the ability to keep that person within me reined in. It was easy enough when I discovered I had an allergic reaction to alcohol - almost anything with an alcohol base can give me a rash - to simply (and somewhat honestly) say  "I'm allergic." I found over the years that was much easier than trying to explain to people that I never learned to like the taste of alcohol because too many people insist they can find me that 'drink' that I'll like.
I walked by the ladies who stood in the doorways of their particular establishment wearing only their underwear (and not much of that), who beckoned me in to see 'more' (if you know what I mean and I think you do). Now, I can't say that isn't a temptation, but it's not as much of one as it used to be. I have realized it's kind of like going into a restaurant, ordering and paying for a really fine meal, having it placed on the table in front of me, and then just sitting there and studying it for a half hour before getting up and leaving without having done anything with it.
Now, that's not to say I'm superior to those who give in to those temptations. I'm not. And I'm not even saying there is anything necessarily wrong with, at least, drinking alcohol (in moderation). Jesus, as a current country song reminds us, drank wine (so I think He'd be a friend of mine - to finish the lyric).
We all have our temptations, and I have mine.
But what I started thinking about was how we tend to see temptation as the urge to indulge in what most of us consider vices. Forget the ones above: how about getting dessert when I know I shouldn't or that leftover dinner roll as a snack when I'm trying to lose weight; or extending the speed of my car to five, then seven, then maybe 10 miles above the legal limit because, well, everyone knows that's OK; or spending money on truly frivolous and totally unnecessary on myself (rather than paying off a debt or feeding the family or helping someone in need) because I want it and, after all, it's my money that I've earned and don't I 'deserve' something nice for all my hard work?
You get the picture. Those are just some of my temptations; you, I'm sure, can think of your own.
But those are the easy temptations - easy in the sense that we often know what we should do, because we know what we believe to be the difference in right and wrong.
The really difficult temptations are the ones when we're not sure; when it doesn't seem to be quite so clearly a choice.
For example, Adam and Eve (of the Bible and the Garden of Eden) were not tempted with "Wouldn't you like to be like the devil?" or "Don't you want to disobey God?" No, the temptation was offered as, "Wouldn't you like to be like God?" What's wrong with wanting to be like God? Doesn't the Bible itself - the apostle Paul in particular - encourage us to be like God?
The other perhaps most famous temptation occurred with Jesus in the wilderness. A figure approached Jesus, and Jesus couldn't be sure at first glance if it was an angel sent to help him or Satan sent to recruit him. At least, I don't think Jesus (who was, after all, fully man) knew at first who the tempter was. Otherwise, it wasn't much of a temptation, was it? So this person comes along and offers Jesus relief - you're hungry? Turn stones to bread. After all, isn't it safer to test out your miracle-power out here to see how it works before you do it in public? The tempter offers Jesus a chance to have what the Jews believed the Messiah would achieve - commander of the forces of heaven, ruler of the world. If Jesus had not read the Scripture carefully, He might have believed, like the Teachers of the Laws and Rabbinic Scholars of the day, that the Messiah would be an earthly king like David. And here was his chance to have all that!
The toughest temptations are the ones where we can't be sure what is the right thing to do, because the end result seems to be admirable: be like God, bring justice to the world.
The question is not so much, 'What's right or wrong?,' but 'what kind of person am I going to be?'
Adam and Eve, here is a shortcut to being like God; Jesus, here is a shortcut to being Messiah over all the earth.
Of course, Adam and Eve took the shortcut, and all of creation fell.
Jesus did not, and all of creation will be redeemed.
So when faced with choices, you have to ask yourself, "What kind of person have I decided to be?
The great thing is, as long as you're breathing it's not too late. Even if you've messed up every choice up to now, it's not too late.
You say to yourself, this is who I am; therefore, this is what I do.
That's bigger than smoking or drinking, lust or lying.
Who are you? Who do you want to be?

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