Thou Art as Thou Smokest

Ever notice that stuff from way back when tends to last longer than stuff made today? For instance, your great-grandfather's desk is probably as solid today as it was the day he bought it. Sure, there might be a few scratches in the finish where you gouged it with a penknife when you were five, but that’s your own darn fault. Other than that, it’s as good as new. Moreover, if you’ve had to move it to a different room or a new house, you’re aware that the thing weighs a ton. That’s because it’s built solidly. The hardwood is of the highest quality, as is the construction. The thing was built to last, to be useful long after the craftsman who built it had died. It’s a desk which is very pleasing to the eye. Whether it’s built with a simple and practical design, or decorated with ornate carving, it’s designed to be not only functional as a desk, but also a piece of art.

Compare this to the piece of junk that passes for a desk today. It's ugly, and it’s made out of plywood. It wasn’t built to last four hundred years; rather, it’s designed to break in five years so that you’ll have to buy a new one. Thanks a lot, corporate scam-artists.

I chose furniture as the subject of that little rant, but there are any number of things which would have served as nicely: cars, architecture, clothing, Ritz cracker tins. People used to place value on craftsmanship, quality, beauty, charm. Now, mass production, cookie-cutter design, and disposability run the show.

On what, as a society, do we place value? On permanency or disposability? The answer to this question will inevitably pervade every aspect of our lives.

In the 1940s, men smoked pipes. Oh, they smoked cigarettes too, and often they smoked both. But over seventy percent of all men chose to smoke their tobacco in briar pipes, which is, needless to say, and astounding number. Nowadays, those who choose to imbibe the fragrant leaf can be seen rushing out of their office-buildings to stave off their nicotine cravings, hastily gasping in a few lungfuls of acrid smoke before returning to the earning of their daily bread, or at a bus stop passing the idle minutes, only half conscious of the roll of paper and tobacco pinched between their fingertips.

The pipe brings forth a very different image, and this is no mistake. Pipes are the natural companions of thoughtful solitude, large arm chairs and larger books, tea and brandy and deep contemplation. The pipe likewise (and perhaps to an even greater degree, the cigar) is at home amongst good company, wherein thick billows of fragrant smoke constitute the very atmosphere for comradery and conversation, of jovial brotherhood and earnest discussion alike. The very nature of the pipe demands that it be approached in a very different manner from a cigarette. It must be carefully packed, carefully lit, and thoughtfully smoked. Twenty minutes is hardly sufficient time in which to smoke a small pipe, and an hour or more is required for a larger one. These things give the pipe its character and virtue, but they are the very same things which have caused its decline in popularity. The very nature of the pipe makes it unattractive to the man who craves only a quick nicotine hit.

When we examine the briar pipe, we find that is a beautifully simple object designed for a beautifully simple task. It is in essence a small furnace, constructed so that the smoker may draw smoke from the burning tobacco into his mouth so as to savor it, and, in so doing, simultaneously keep the tobacco lit by supplying the coal with oxygen. Yet it is more than this. It is a small work of art, a testament to and legacy of the craftsman who made it. It is simple, but it is beautiful. It is not discarded after smoking like a cigarette; rather, it is a constant companion and friend. It can serve your grandson as faithfully as it has served you. It lasts. It is permanent.

As men made in the image of God, we are designed for eternity. This mortal body will wear out, but our next one never shall. We were designed for permanence. How many times in Scripture are we exhorted to think not of the temporary things of this world, but to be concerned with things that are forever? In light of eternity, even gold and silver are to be considered perishable. Yet we are made in the image of God, and an aspect of that image is our creativity. God creates. And when God creates, he creates things that are functional, beautiful and lasting.

The man who smokes cigarettes is concerned with a temporary sensation of relief. He is in bondage to nicotine, and inhaling smoke into his lungs keeps his cravings at bay. He takes the momentary pleasure in his cigarette for what it’s worth, and then tosses it aside. It is disposable. It is temporary.

The man who smokes a pipe is not a slave to nicotine. He does not draw the smoke into his lungs, and could just as easily refrain from smoking if he so desired. It is not nicotine he craves, but fragrance, flavor, relaxation, rest, and thought. When he knocks the last of the ashes from his pipe, he returns it to his pocket or his coffee table or desk, until next they meet as friends, and the old ritual – the filling, so carefully yet so naturally; the striking of a match, the kiss of the flame upon the leaf, the steady puff, puff, puff, the billows of smoke, the gentle tamping of the coals, and the easing into an hour of quiet bliss – is repeated once more. The pipe lasts. The pipe is permanent.

Moreover, the pipe, like everything worthwhile in life, takes care, maintenance, and commitment. A cigarette can be smoked thoughtlessly. This is impossible to do with the pipe, as anyone who has tried it knows. The pipe must be cared for and maintained, lest it turn bitter. It must be packed carefully before smoking, and tended carefully while smoking, lest it either die or burn hotly.

That our society has replaced pipes with cigarettes should not surprise us. Everything else which was once permanent is being replaced by the disposable as well. Cars which were made in the 1940s, ‘50s, or 60’s are still prized today. Now, a car is old after five years. And mark my words, in fifty years no one will be thrilled by the sight of a 2015 Toyota. They might say, “Wow,” but it will be “wow, that’s ugly.” The man who goes through cigarette after cigarette is the man who will goes from job to job, house to house, church to church, worldview to worldview, marriage to marriage. It should be stated that the point of this is not to condemn everyone who chooses to smoke cigarettes. Rather, it is to point out that certain attitudes have pervaded our society, from the smallest things to the greatest. The attitudes of our society can be demonstrated in our smoking habits, and these will in turn correspond to our attitudes about employment and marriage and religion. “He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much.”

Let us not be those who value convenience over beauty, cheapness over quality, disposability over permanence. Let us not be those who are blown by every wind of doctrine. Let us not plow through marriages like so many cigarettes. Let us, rather, be as those who smoke pipes.