Opus 2025-009: The Noble Sacrifice

As we were eating our Christmas celebration meal on New Year’s Eve my wife was talking about some of the things that she did not prepare this year in the interest of simplicity.  Or was it variety?  I can’t remember.  It sounded good.

The next day as I was putting away silverware that had been washed after the meal, and I noticed what was there and what wasn’t there.  There were no slotted spoons.  That means that we didn’t have any form of green bean casserole or a dish that might have fluids in it that need to be drained.  I got to thinking about this idea of simplicity.  Often our claim of simplicity or variety is just a way of avoiding producing more complex results.

For a meal you can make things that are complex.  You can also make things that look really complicated but aren’t.  It is amazing what you can buy premade.  It looks like you spent hours in the kitchen.  Many times the things that cooks claim as complex are relatively easy to produce.  What is lacking is the desire to produce them.

I find it amusing the mystique that seems to be built around cooking.  I will accept that there are many little tricks that you can learn that make a big difference.  I still haven’t figured out how my wife can fix a steak on the stove top and make it taste so good.  I’ve asked her to show me what she does several times and so far she’s managed to avoid doing so.  At the same time if you can read, you can follow directions.  Things that come in different types of packages have very detailed directions.  Cookbooks have step by step instructions.  I know I can make a pretty good chili and I got my basic directions from a Betty Crocker Cookbook and then consulted several others to find out what kind of spices would give me that desires I wanted.  It wasn’t rocket science.  It was a matter of reading directions.  In some cases the hardest part is figuring out how to use the can opener.  

When it comes to other areas of life, this also applies . When I was teaching, we went through a stage where principals assumed in order to have a purpose in life their role was to make us miserable by demanding daily, detailed, meaningless lesson plans.  They wanted lesson plans written in such a way that there’s no way they could ever be applied, but we followed the formula the principal wanted.  You learn to adapt, adjust, and put on a great act.  Cut and paste boilerplate was a life saver since the noble leaders never looked at what we turned in.  They just had a secretary check off if we were obedient.  Recently, I watched a Sunday School class being taught by someone who obviously had put no preparation into it, but was very good at making it look like he had important and in-depth truths to share.

So be gentle and kind.  If people want to make you think that they have really done you a service, then thank them graciously and get on with life.  It won’t hurt you and there’s a possibility it won’t hurt them either.  We would be amazed at how much of life is done this way.

homo unius libri