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Soul Talk
by Jonathan Arnpriester
 
November 26, 2000
 
Eat Your Own Dog Food November 26, 2000
John 18:33-37

Our problem?

Not wanting to take total responsibility
for our actions,
even when we have to admit that
things wouldn't have gone wrong
if we'd behaved as we should have.

"1997 -- Jeremy Dean and his parents, of Burney, California, filed a lawsuit in January against Shasta County for at least $700,000 for Jeremy's total disability that resulted from a car crash. Dean and some friends had been out drinking. Dean was in the back seat of a car and had stuck his head out the window to vomit just as the driver veered off the road, ramming Dean's head into a tree. The lawsuit claims that it was the county's fault that the tree was so close to the road."
--www.newsoftheweird.com

"Our relationship to God is our way of participating in God's redemptive work. Relating to God is not only about understanding the world; it is about mending the world."

Yale Divinity School theologian Miroslav Volf

John 18:33-37

comes straight from the climactic center
of John's passion narrative.

Typically,

as John focuses on
Jesus' appearance before Pilate,
he is less concerned with chronological exactness
than the presentation of a particular theological message.

In this instance

John constructs the confrontation scene
between Jesus and
the symbol of Roman authority
to emphasize Jesus' kingship
and his divine qualification
for judging the entire world.

Three days since Thanksgiving.

Tired of eating turkey?

Turkey sandwiches.

Turkey casserole.
Turkey 'a la king.
Turkey legs.
Turkey pie.
Turkey soup.

Try dog food.

Join Fido
and open a bag of dry food,
tumble a healthy crunchy pile
into his dish
and another heaping helping
into your own cereal bowl.
Stir in some hot water
to make a delicious brown gravy
and then lap it up!

Okay,

so you're not going to eat your dog's food.

But there are people

who say that we should.
What they mean is that we should
"practice what we preach," or
"put our money where our mouth is"
i.e, we should "eat our own dog food."

The media-centric phrase is everywhere,

showing up in newspaper headlines,
computer-industry magazines
and executive sound bites.
At Microsoft and Cisco,
staffers refer to it with religious reference.

Where did this post-conventional wisdom come from?

Like dog food itself,
its origins and precise composition
are not entirely clear.
But theories abound ...

  • Some give credit for
    "eating your own dog food"
    to Gordon Bell,
    a senior researcher at Microsoft.
    The expression,
    Bell explains,
    refers to a company's
    using its software programs or products
    in their early stages --
    even if the process is somewhat disagreeable --
    as a way of testing them to improve quality.
    "We have to eat our own dog food
    to see if we get sick,
    find out how it tastes,"
    he adds.
  • Others point to John Rock,
    the former manager
    of GM's Oldsmobile division,
    who was quoted as saying,
    "We knew we would hit rock bottom in '97,
    and we would find out whether the dogs would eat the dog food in '98."
  • Still others have used the phrase
    to suggest that someone has
    an intimate knowledge of what they're selling --
    like a dog-food salesman
    who is so taken with his product's quality
    that he has sampled it himself.

We live in a Darwinian dog-eat-dog world,

where only the hungry succeed.

It was no different

in the canine culture in Jesus' day.

Political realities

made people hungry for the truth --
or at least their perception of it.

As in our time

when truth often matters less than
political expediency, efficiency
or perception of life...
people were barking and biting
on the day Jesus stood before Pilate.

In today's text,

it's not Jesus,
but Pilate,
who raises the philosophical question:
What is truth?

He knows what the truth is;

he's just loathe to acknowledge it.
It isn't politically advisable
to release Jesus --
what with a raging, riot-sized mob
at his gate demanding death.

Pilate clearly recognizes

how to protect his own doghouse,
how to guard his own backyard.
He knows and believes his own truth.

The truth is,

Jesus hasn't done anything
against Roman law.
Pilate, who's no simpleton,
knows this.

Yet he's in a bit of a political jam.

He smells what's in the wind
and he's not about to eat
his own dog food.
He'll leave that meal to Jesus.

Eating his own dog food

would mean setting Jesus free,
resisting the clamor of the horde,
maybe causing some sort of spontaneous uprising,
something to be avoided at any cost
which ironically,
was one of the worries of the temple leaders
about Jesus himself,
leaders who now
use the possibility of an uprising
to their own advantage.
Politics, politics ...
everything is politics.

Even if an uprising

didn't get unleashed,
the temple alpha wolf
circles Pilate with a not-so-subtle threat
to tattletale to Rome.
The pack barks for him,
"If you release this man,
you are no friend of the emperor.
Everyone who claims to be a king
sets himself against the emperor" (John 19:12).

Pilate is forced to chose

between a king in Rome,
or the king who stood before him now.
Pilate knows the truth,
but he also knows,
politically at least,
that it's best to let big sleeping dogs lie --
especially when you're a midsized dog
chained to the emperor's doghouse.

Like Pilate

we know the truth about Jesus.
Yet the truth we know about him
isn't the truth Pilate knows.

Pilate knows

Jesus is innocent of any crime.
Pilate also knows
who fills his dinner dish,
who pours his gravy,
who holds his leash.
He chooses his master.
And we choose ours,
since we know Jesus was,
Jesus is --
The Christ.

So we choose Christ.

What does it mean, then,
for a Christian
to eat his own dog food?

In simplest terms,

it means putting faith into action,
avoiding hypocrisy,
loving our enemies,
stressing integrity and quality,
being truthful and honest,
nourishing ourselves on foundational beliefs,
and developing an intimate knowledge
of what and who we're "selling."
It means that
the twin rails of faith and action
run parallel,
ensuring that when
the truth train leaves the station
it won't immediately tumble off the tracks.

To know God

we must choose to live God,
to practice the presence of God.
And to know faith
we must live faith.

To do that

we have to understand
what it is we do believe,
which is why it is so important
to gather on Sunday mornings
to consume the Word,
to draw together as the body of Christ,
to drink the water of life from the same bowl --
in short, to eat our own dog food.

Like sly curs

who can somehow differentiate
a trustworthy person
from an untrustworthy one,
the spiritual seekers
of the 21st century
are not going to be attracted
to a church that doesn't
eat its own dog food.
They'll sniff out the hypocrisy on the wind
quicker than a Norwegian Elkhound scents a black bear.

Dogs can't be fooled the way people can.

A dog senses fear.
A dog hears what we can't hear,
smells what we can't smell.

A dog might eat anything

and roll in dead fish
believing it is perfume,
but a dog will never trust a person,
or a group of people,
or a church of people,
who prove untrustworthy,
who prove hypocritical and insincere.

Champion Christians

adhere to the truth --
unflinchingly.
They eat their own dog food.
Forget turkey casserole.
Bon appétit!

Sources:

Bryant, Adam. "The New Power Breakfast: