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.