Wealth

An excerpt from a post on Young Anabaptist Radicals, December 06:

I’ve always known I’ve had a problem with The Rich. I had a bias against The Rich for a long time. It also took me a while to notice I was one of them. I had expected to have inner conflicts by traveling to “third-world” countries (low life expectancy, low standard of living, low literacy rates, high poverty) and being faced with extreme poverty – not only an opposite lifestyle than I was used to, but also a lifestyle that was in direct relationship with my lifestyle : my demands had caused their poverty.

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 with a clear view to a Palace. I pass by multi-million dollar homes with painted white facades, pillars, and marble steps on my way to and from my choir practice. I do not have some of the luxuries many people in the U.S. deem necessary, 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, I am a part of one of the highest echelons of London society.

Many experiences with wealth in London feel surreal. Where in the world am I? And why am I here? And how and where does Christ work in this part of the world?

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.

Junkyard living?

An old favourite band of mine, Ceili Rain, has a song called "Junkyard." In it, they sing

Saw a movie where a guy kills another guy twice;
don't know if I can forget about it

saw a guy finish a fight with a butcher knife slice;
pretty sure I won't forget about it

saw a photo on the net I can't believe that I've seen;
don't know if I can forget about 

two kids were playing in some dirt that'll never come clean;
wish to God I could forget about it

a vicious rumor went around, wrecked my uncle john's life;
guess he never could forget about it

So often we let ourselves be passive recipients to the spirit-degrading fluff perpetually cycling around us, patiently taking it in by osmosis forgetting that we can never "not let it affect us" or put it in a separate box which is "only entertainment." If we live in the world, then we cannot turn the off-switch on the barrage of advertising, media, and lifestyles which prey on desires of the flesh and not the spirit. We must constantly make choices - not to stay huddled in our yurt in Bhutan (which, by the way, is a place I would love to visit) - but to make choices for that which we have control over. And for that which we do not have control over (which is significant, but overall still minimal), we must pray and be conscious to feed ourselves more spirit-nourishing food to keep our perspectives in check.

I write these words in a "we must", preaching sort of mode. But to be honest, it is coming from someone who all too recently rediscovered her amazing ability to imbibe degrading fluff by osmosis and choice without having thought twice.

I'd rather think twice. I'm not worried that my life will be too boring. It's been quite exciting thus far and I'd much rather have joy than regret.

Is it okay if I say: my heart is not a junkyard;
my mind is not a dump for all the gunk around;
my spirit's not a junkyard, no, it's Holy ground.