I’ve learned a lot of things since I started working as a nurse. I learned about medications, diseases, human nature, and life and death. I’ve learned a lot about reality, And I’ve learned about reality shows. Now, I didn’t watch TV growing up, but I had heard the term “reality show,” and lately I’ve seen snippets of reality shows that my patients were watching. That is, I thought they must be reality shows, because they appeared to be attempting to seem real, or in other words, to disguise sensationalism as reality. Yet the concept of unreality trying to appear real (when, in fact, it would have been more real to remain unreality), left me confused about what was “in reality” the point of a reality show.

So, I did what every young American does when he or she wants to know the real deal: I Googled the term “reality show” and found a Wikipedia explanation. It basically said that a reality show is a show that attempts to be rooted in reality (i.e. the characters are “real” people in “real” situations and not professional actors on a stage), but everybody knows that it’s not actually real because the characters are prompted and the scenarios are manipulated off stage (though there’s not actually a stage because--remember everybody -- this is “reality”).



Believe it or not, this article is not a tirade against TV. Rather, it’s meant to reflect on the philosophy of a culture that seems enthroned in make-believe in the midst of an all-too real world. Our children will be living in a world that is increasingly globalized, a world where the United States cannot be a sovereign castle in the air, but must interact with other nations that know the meaning of sharp-edged reality and who have learned to cope with it far more deftly than we. Closer to home, we who call ourselves Christians are called to be ambassadors of Christ – introducing people to a real Savior who meets real needs. To be effective in this mission, it is imperative that we are able to separate reality from make-believe.



Proverbs 14:18 says, “The naďve inherit foolishness, but the sensible are crowned with knowledge.” In Titus 1 and 2, the apostle Paul lists character qualities that should mark overseers, older men & women, and younger men & women. The one quality that is mentioned for each of the five groups is “sensible”. (OK, well, it’s not specifically mentioned for the older women, but that is implied because they are to teach the younger women to be sensible.) Perhaps “sensible” could also be described as “having common sense”, which likewise implies being in touch with reality. How do we Americans, in general, rate on the “sensible” scale?



Our forefathers were visionary men, but they were very much in touch with reality. If they did not cut trees, till fields, plant crops, pull weeds, and bring in the harvest they knew that they would starve. There was no Welfare system to save them. If they did not chop down trees or build sod houses, they and their families would be sleeping under the stars in the wintertime. If they did not protect each other and remain united, they would be destroyed by enemies.



In more recent times, Americans had to deal with realities that included world wars, supply shortages, and an economic depression. Yet it seems as though throughout the past several decades, we as a nation have lost our grip on reality.



Thankfully, there are exceptions to every trend in culture. I’ve known a number of families who chose to give their children the gift of reality, refusing to allow them to slip into the pleasant but debilitating world of make-believe life. Yet on the whole, American culture seems to be marked by unreality.



Our sense of right and wrong is often fake, based on the shaky foundation of what is considered acceptable, or what has been done in the past. “Fairness” becomes the standard for government decisions as different groups of people try to outshout each other in demanding what seems “fair” to them. But life is not fair — ask any farmer. He stands in his hayfield and watches a twenty minute rainstorm undo a whole day’s work. It’s not fair, and yet he doesn’t call a strike until the sky decides to give him what he deserves. Instead, he just plans a way to overcome this latest setback.



Even our sense of value and honor is artificial. Who are the stars in our country? They are people who build whatever make-believe world is our favorite among the TV channels, people who run or swim or jump to no particular destination in less time than anyone else, people who hit or throw or carry balls for no reason other than that in the make-believe world of their sport, that is the goal. I don’t mean to ridicule these individuals who, through lots of hard work, develop their talent so that they can do remarkable things. But I would submit that to billions of people around the world: Real life is not about TV celebrities or sports stars; it’s about finding something to eat for breakfast, about finding a semi-dry place in a sewer system to sleep for the night, about finding a basement in which to hide from the explosion of war.

Often, we have a dreamy sense of responsibility. It takes root in children when they are young; they break things, and we pay for them. They throw away food, and we buy them more. They neglect their work, and we do it for them. They are lazy, and we defend them from their teachers. They make poor choices, and we try to cushion the consequences. Of course, it’s only because we love them…or so we think. Somewhere along the line we got the idea that real life is only for “grownups”. But, sooner or later, our children will have no parents guarding them from reality and they will have their first encounter with the true bitterness of their error or sin when the consequences are adult-sized. How much better to let them learn from their mistakes while they are still small mistakes!



We don’t pay for things; instead we depend on imaginary credit. We don’t appreciate natural beauty, but spend millions of dollars on make-up products in order to look like someone else. We don’t even eat real food! I had to smile when I read the packaging on some American cheese, “pasteurized processed cheese food”. In other words, it’s not real cheese, just a cheese-like substance – which, of course, we often like better than the real thing.

I’m not saying that all of these products of our ingenuity or imagination are all bad. There is a place for creativity, and for delight in things besides basic survival needs (after all, surviving is not the sum of life). The danger is that we lose sight of the line between true needs and fictional needs, between things that are critical and things that are nice to have. Skim the status updates on Facebook, and it’s easy to see, based on the things that bother us, and excite us, and occupy our minds, that we’re losing touch with a global reality, a bigger, accurate perspective on life.



There are many consequences to our addiction to a dream world. In many ways, America has been blessed abundantly, so that our greenhouse environment has remained largely intact. We’ve been able to be less educated, less skilled, less alert, and less prepared than other nations. Yet it is becoming increasingly obvious that our supremacy is no longer going to be taken for granted, and we must learn to interact on a level playing field with other nations… nations where children are expected to learn more than one language, to know how to work with their hands, to know how to survive in real life. 



Back to the reality shows. I’ve sometimes thought what irony it is to be watching these reality shows from a patient’s room in the intensive care unit. Because the fake drama - the assumed love and hate and the play-acting of fear and sorrow and joy and tenderness and horror - that is enacted in that little box on the wall is happening in real life all around me there. People die here or turn the corner toward recovery (though not quite as dramatically as on TV). Here, people cry with real sorrow and smile with real friendliness, laugh with real joy and sit in the quietness of real despair.


Why, then, do we want reality shows? Is it, perhaps, that we want to feel the thrill without the danger? We want to be doctors without going through medical school? We want to be stars without starting at the bottom of the ladder? We want to know the joy of life and love without being exposed in raw reality to the pain that accompanies it? We want to experience life by proxy, because there is less risk—and you can always switch it off when you want a change.



But is that the life that is glorifying to the Lord? Is that the life that equips us to meet the needs of our fellow men, to dry their tears, rejoice with their joys, to bear with them in their weaknesses and mistakes, to understand the things that are on their hearts? Is that the kind of life that Jesus Christ lived?

Or is He calling us to follow Him in experiencing life to the utmost — real life with real triumphs over real difficulties, real joys to come after real sorrows, real usefulness for meeting real needs? Should we let our children loll in the ease of make-believe life, or shall we lead the way for them in learning to overcome difficulties by God’s grace and delighting in the abundance of life? It’s the difference between sleeping in the ship’s hold and standing at the deck rail with the spray in your face. The difference between driving to the top of a mountain and conquering the trail with your own two feet. The difference between riding in a van and straddling a motorcycle. The difference between being fed through a tube and chewing your own food. The difference between listening to a CD and playing in the orchestra. The difference between going to an art gallery and framing your own painting. The difference between looking at pictures of Yellowstone National Park and going there yourself. The difference between a puppet, and a person.