scattered strangers -
exiles and
in-track anabap.tists
glasses half-empty, but mostly half-full
fingers fire across keys
punching out the truth
their truth
a truth
hoping sharing
will ease the loneliness
of living as black sheep
or the cramp
of working out the pearl from the sand
- together forming community.

Thesis? I think Western-driven norms of a working week of 40 hours significantly hinders the possibility of living what I call a “sustainable life”.

Ramblings:
I seek balance. For controversial issues, I need to hear from a variety of sources before I’m able to formulate thoughts for myself that I can live with longer than a week. I seek balance. If I have spent the majority of a day indoors, my soul craves for fresh air, even for a brief period, to attempt a state of health. I seek balance. I need to find a way which my idealism doesn’t burn me out, or wear me down, or strip me of joy or small pleasures. I seek balance. I need friendships which cross barriers - of religion, nationality, race, personality, gender, age, class. I seek balance. After years of youth-infused idealistic activism and energy, I seek

space

time

conversations

and a slower pace of life.

God is too amazing to allow the millions of encounters each day to pass by wholly unnoticed. I seek to live in such a way I catch glimpses of God around each bend, in each hour, in each human encounter. I’m more and more convinced, however, that working fifty hours a week and saving the world by scheduling meetings, involvements, activities, etc. for each minute of my waking life is not the pace of life I’m called to – and I wonder how many of us might be called to live out this western society - driven “rat race.”

People are too beautiful to schedule into corners of my life – for 30-minute touch and go conversations at the local pub or coffeeshop once a month. Creation is too beautiful to gaze at through a storm-proof window while gulping down the last dregs of the morning coffee in the few seconds before running out the door to work or an appointment.

We make choices. We attempt the minimum to be a part of society (and not of it) and find ourselves quickly swept up in its demands and enticing advertisements for making our lives better, quicker, and easier. We choose email over letters, computers over paper, and find ourselves in a world of microwaves, cell phones with internet, bread machines, prepackaged meals, online communities, quick flights, houses far from friends because of the land value, air-conditioned cars … and find ourselves having conversations in the tornado-spinning rat race – where we brag about our full calendars and attempt to schedule each waking minute.

I want my choices to determine a slower pace of life than what’s so easy to get caught up in. I want a life which has time for people, time to smell the roses, time to visit the older neighbour with a basket of fruit from my fruit trees. Is this a crazy dream? Certainly. But I’ve realised one thing for sure: the 40-hour work week has to go. We no longer work to live; we live to work. Sure, some of us have been lucky to find ourselves in fulfilling, meaningful, wonderful work … but usually those of us who have, have also found ourselves working more than that 40 hours because of our commitment.

At this point, as I’ve found myself in one of those fulfilling, meaningful workplaces, I’m working on the pace firstly by limiting my hours strictly to 40 hours. It’s much harder than one would imagine, especially for a volunteer. However, I’ve determined that I need to start now if I’m ever going to have a truly sustainable, joyful, generous life.

I wrote to a friend a few months ago, and I think those words still echo where I am at now. (I was writing about my choice to give up personal email for Lent):

We need to restrict our automatic reflexes so that they do not have to become ingrained and a dangerous competition to rites of breathing for life. We need to maintain a life of choice and intentionality - where we breathe and watch and listen and smell.

I’m finding more and more that what I seek is the basic breathing, space, listening, spirit of life - it’s about the essentials - not about the fancy shmancy stuff; and definitely not about seeking power, security, fame, wealth …

Yet I recognise those as easily-trapped human drives, and I think my best chance for avoiding getting sucked in is by cultivating right now, the space and intentionality in life so that I know how to breathe, how to sit and drink tea and have conversations, how to wander aimlessly in awe of the beauty in creation and in the people around me… I think that’s my only chance.

This is a daily spiritual discipline that I work at. I have many questions about it, and worry at times if some of my actions appear hypocritical. For now, though, I think it’s a good direction to head. I’ve noticed that others are also seeking this balance, after lives of racing speed, they’ve agreed to slow down. It’s a movement, and in many different forms it’s catching on. I only hope that we’re seeking a sustainable shift and not a momentary relieving reaction.

I’ve also known that Mennonites have appeared to favor missions and outreach to places with high levels of poverty and have had few resources to spend for missions and outreach to the upper echelons of society. I knew for this reason that living in one of the highest affluent areas in London could prove interesting as a missionary. I hadn’t, however, expected inner conflicts and deep moments of pain and sorrow as a result.

Have you tried living in the world’s most expensive city while having a deep theological and personal foundation of identity in walking with and learning from the Poor of the earth? It’s trying and tiring.

I look out my window on this unseasonably sunny day with a clear view across the way to a Palace. Literally. It’s named Alexandra Palace. I pass by multi-million dollar homes with painted white facades, pillars, and marble steps on my way back from my choir practice. I do not have some of the luxuries many people in the U.S. deem necessary (car, air conditioning, own bathroom). Yet I am still living in a wealthy neighborhood, in a wonderful house, in the most expensive city in the world. In some ways, it is good to face up to what society I am really a part of – no matter the details (living on stipend, volunteering work), I am a part of one of the highest echelons of London society. From what I know, ‘normal’ working people cannot afford to live in the city of London, let alone in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods.

There are times, however, where I notice that there is an even greater gap between me and the highest echelons of society here in London; times in which I almost feel “poor” in comparison. I was walking along Brompton Rd, south of Oxford Circus, having extra time before my choir rehearsal in South Kensington. Due to various events of the day, I was eating my packed supper as I walked – carrots, celery, crispbread and an orange with peanut butter. I noticed the people walking around me – all in at minimum professional business wear, and at maximum “to the nines”. I felt like a dirty mutt who straggled into a world premier event such as the Oscars – I was clearly in a place where I did not belong. I wasn’t in ragged clothing, nor had I forgotten to perform my daily hygiene rituals. Yet the feeling within me was clear: I did not belong here. At the same time, the entire experience was surreal. Where in the world was I? And why was I here? And how and where does Christ work in this part of the world? I was chomping on my crisp orange carrot, occasionally adding some protein with the peanut butter, as I walked along a street whose shops would charge their customers easily £300 for their on-sale shirts. Eventually it was time to turn around for the choir rehearsal, but the feeling was quite palpable, and has not left me since.

However, that time on Brompton Rd was not the only time I felt as if I was in a different world where I did not belong. I had the feeling many times: in Highgate village, on the tube, riding the bus through nice neighborhoods. I was shocked, amazed, and deeply saddened that this wealth was present in the world. I was even used to considering myself among the top 2% in the world … I hadn’t realized how many people likely made up that 2% in the world – and what gaps of wealth could be present even among that 2%. And seriously, if all that wealth is held in the top two percent of the entire world, something is fundamentally and irreparably wrong with this world – something inhumane has happened over time. I should take that back – I shouldn’t say irreparable, because even within a cynic like me, I operate my life on optimism and faith that one day Good will transform Evil and that Love will finally emerge as the dominant world power. I must say, though, struck with this wealth – I wonder which direction it will turn me – to apathy or to action for change. I sincerely hope for the latter – but I must admit that even after years of activism I am still asking myself what can I do and what can one person do and how will it ever make a difference?

It strikes me as well that my wealth is the source of my liberty of time to consider how best I shall live my life. Is it not often the middle-classes and higher economic levels of societies that take time to wonder into philosophy and reflect on how we should live? Or who are able to go through higher education to gain slight distance and a critical eye for the world in which we live? We are not constrained by the everyday choices of food or shelter. My wealth therefore gives me the burden (or privilege) of change on which to act or dismiss.

I wonder, I cry, and I hope that I will be moved to some sort of effective and compassionate action for change - towards acknowledging wealth disparities and mourning – through actions – the wealthy’s sins.

*********************************************
A few points to recap and encourage discussion (I know it was long!):

How and where does Christ-of-the-people work? “The healthy do not need a doctor” (Matt 9:12) often leads us to think Christ came preferentially for the poor, but are not the wealthy also sick?

If all that wealth is held in the top two percent of the entire world, something is fundamentally wrong with this world – something inhumane has happened over time.

My wealth gives me the burden (or privilege) of change.

How do other YAR readers and writers feel about wealth disparities in the world and your “place” in society? In particular perhaps, how Mennonite (and Anabaptist?) emphases on simple living and attending to people’s basic needs have affected your thoughts and feelings on the subject of wealth.

Mennonites in the United States are slowly realizing that we live in drastically different times and in drastically different ways than our Anabaptist leaders lived. Are we living in such a way due to evolving revelation or have we let go of our fundamental radical roots?

In the Western world, namely Western Europe and North America, areas of the world which are entering post-colonial, post-Christendom, and postmodern eras, there have been emerging movements for people of faith to reclaim the fundamentals of a vibrant faith story that radicalize our lifestyle standards. There are ecumenical voices pushing for justice and peace emphases as central to the Gospel; a widespread inter-religious acceptance of the need to take notice of the marginalized and oppressed peoples of the world, and a need to redefine Christianity as a welcoming religion whose message runs fundamentally contrary to society’s norms and therefore provides the missing piece that so many are noticing is missing in daily life. The exception for this renewal of faith, in contrary nature to earlier faith renewals is that the revitalization is taking place across all sectors and at its heart is a call to LIVE as one believes. Furthermore, the name of the religion, “Christianity”, is accepted as a potential dangerous framework to continue working within and thus has been pushed to the margins. Faith is now what is important, and the life of Jesus also emerges as a forerunner for the movement.

At the heart of this rediscovery of the basic ideals of Christianity is the emergence of traditional Anabaptist ideals. Re-emergence of centrality of peace and justice to the message of faith, a call to accompany the marginalized and oppressed on a journey out of integrity-taking and dignity-denying imprisonment, focus on the life and words of Christ as moral and lifestyle-defining, and a re-emphasis on intentional community and the breaking of bread with a realization of its economic effects have become the markers for this new movement.

During this same time, the Anabaptist-Mennonite church in North America has been slowly polarizing its members. Churches have either continued the fundamental radical roots of the church’s ancestors and found new and relevant ways of doing church among and with the marginalized or they have determined relevancy as agreeing with mainstream, popularized Christianity which unfortunately has disturbing counter-productive actions driven from unspoken philosophies which support the tradition. This is not a question about which side is correct. It is a question as to what is determined to be relevant and Christ-centred in our own societies.

In order to follow and fulfil the radical callings of Jesus Christ, the church must be willing to take a critical look at itself and be willing to say “we have not done well” and also be willing to change current patterns to more life-giving and God-revealing patterns of living. For the Mennonite Church in the United States, this means a hard look at the church’s acculturation in the last century. Unfortunately, the acculturation which has been occurring overall has not been an acculturation towards higher levels of relevancy, as was the initial purpose. Instead, the acculturation has led to a deterioration of understanding fundamentals of the faith which strive for harmonious and sustainable living with all creation because of the undeserved gift of life and grace from the Lord. We have forgotten the radical differences between need and desire and have accepted society’s individual-driven capitalistic and consumeristic call to maintain a credible level of normalcy in order to have the opportunity to achieve success.

For fear this may sound reactionary and a call to “go back” to our radical roots, it is more a call to be willing to take a compassionate-critical look at our tradition in light of the reigning cultural imperialism of our day. We need to be aware of the Emerging Church movement that is claiming Anabaptist ideals as crucial to relevant living and challenge ourselves to join up with this ecumenical and inter-religious faith movement in hopes to reclaim the worthy remnants of Anabaptist-Mennonite faith which have dulled in recent decades. We must be willing to go beyond our denominational and ethnic restraints to learn from others who have discovered what we had been attempting to live out for centuries and have only recently forgotten.

SK 1-Sept-06
From blog: http://sharonkniss.blogspot.com