Discomfortable
"Religion in the 'burbs tends to be more a program to join than it is an experience that changes your life. The more I participate in the programs, the further I remove myself from the deep suffering of the world. That's too bad. The entrance to the thicker, deeper life in Christ goes directly through the suffering of others. As soon as I discover my spiritual gifts, I am hustled into serving in one of the legion of church programs. Eventually I get to be a church leader, and I can sit for four of five hours at a setting and discuss "leveraging resources for the kingdom of God." - Dave Goetz, Death by Suburb, How to Keep the Suburbs from Killing Your Soul
This little book by Dave Goetz is hitting me in all the right places. Before you think, "Oh boy, here goes Mike on another rant about programs and church structure," let me say that the book is hitting me more than anything else. For all the questions I've asked, the issues considered, the challenges faced, I am still in essence just another suburban white Christian male, who works a few extra hours to help pay my big mortgage, who plays in a golf league on Wednesday nights, who lingers a little too long in front of the wine selection at the grocery store looking for the perfect match for the slab of sirloin in my cart.
Everything about my life, as prescribed by Dr. Suburbia, is fashioned to eliminate discomfort from my experience and even my vocabulary. I use the word "discomfort" rather than "suffering", because our imaginations have been captured by the idea that only Christians in other parts of the world who are getting beheaded for their faith actually "suffer". Discomfort can be fairly comprehensive in its scope. It can certainly include anything that makes me feel too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, too cramped, too alone, or any other environmental variations. But it can also include that which does not fulfill my expectations for what I think is the "good life". Maybe it is the quality of my neighborhood - the age of the houses or the age of the people. Maybe it is the number of good local restaurants or proximity (either too close or too far) to Wal-Mart. Getting more personal, maybe I have a good job but the commute is too long. Or there are a few co-workers I don't like. Maybe my kids don't quite get the grades I'd like them to. Or my wife can't cook a brisket like my buddy's wife can down the street.
Or maybe, my church isn't quite as influential as the God-Plex in the next town. Maybe, after running the gambit of church volunteerism - from nursery worker, to small group leader, to running the sound board - I am unfulfilled. I am unsure of my calling. I am reduced to sitting on the committee discussing how to "leverage our resources for the kingdom of God."
That's frightening, but real. Goetz describes how this reduction of life as protection-from-discomfort results in covetousness:
"So much of coveting seems to originate from a deep dissatisfaction with the life I've been given. I want my neighbor's life. It's strange, really, to hate the life I have, since I've made sure that every step along the way has been chosen by me. I choose that college, I choose this spouse, I choose my wedding gifts, I choose to go back and get an MBA, I choose when to have kids, I choose to buy in this neighborhood. And yet, in many ways, I still fight the life I think I've chosen."
Security, comfort, satisfaction...the Jesus Way does not appear kind to those words, particularly for those of us who have money and are trying to make a comfortable life for ourselves and our families. Experience has proven that the "pursuit of happiness" generally leads to less happiness and more looking over the fence to see what brand of car my neighbor drives.
Amber had a post the other day on her blog which I think is a great response to a life which pursues comfort but ends in covetousness: "I am at a point in my life that where I am embracing the hardness of things instead of complaining or praying them away....I want to learn. Learn from past mistakes. Enjoying my own individual training. I am embracing the hand print of God in my life." That's gold.
This little book by Dave Goetz is hitting me in all the right places. Before you think, "Oh boy, here goes Mike on another rant about programs and church structure," let me say that the book is hitting me more than anything else. For all the questions I've asked, the issues considered, the challenges faced, I am still in essence just another suburban white Christian male, who works a few extra hours to help pay my big mortgage, who plays in a golf league on Wednesday nights, who lingers a little too long in front of the wine selection at the grocery store looking for the perfect match for the slab of sirloin in my cart.
Everything about my life, as prescribed by Dr. Suburbia, is fashioned to eliminate discomfort from my experience and even my vocabulary. I use the word "discomfort" rather than "suffering", because our imaginations have been captured by the idea that only Christians in other parts of the world who are getting beheaded for their faith actually "suffer". Discomfort can be fairly comprehensive in its scope. It can certainly include anything that makes me feel too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, too cramped, too alone, or any other environmental variations. But it can also include that which does not fulfill my expectations for what I think is the "good life". Maybe it is the quality of my neighborhood - the age of the houses or the age of the people. Maybe it is the number of good local restaurants or proximity (either too close or too far) to Wal-Mart. Getting more personal, maybe I have a good job but the commute is too long. Or there are a few co-workers I don't like. Maybe my kids don't quite get the grades I'd like them to. Or my wife can't cook a brisket like my buddy's wife can down the street.
Or maybe, my church isn't quite as influential as the God-Plex in the next town. Maybe, after running the gambit of church volunteerism - from nursery worker, to small group leader, to running the sound board - I am unfulfilled. I am unsure of my calling. I am reduced to sitting on the committee discussing how to "leverage our resources for the kingdom of God."
That's frightening, but real. Goetz describes how this reduction of life as protection-from-discomfort results in covetousness:
"So much of coveting seems to originate from a deep dissatisfaction with the life I've been given. I want my neighbor's life. It's strange, really, to hate the life I have, since I've made sure that every step along the way has been chosen by me. I choose that college, I choose this spouse, I choose my wedding gifts, I choose to go back and get an MBA, I choose when to have kids, I choose to buy in this neighborhood. And yet, in many ways, I still fight the life I think I've chosen."
Security, comfort, satisfaction...the Jesus Way does not appear kind to those words, particularly for those of us who have money and are trying to make a comfortable life for ourselves and our families. Experience has proven that the "pursuit of happiness" generally leads to less happiness and more looking over the fence to see what brand of car my neighbor drives.
Amber had a post the other day on her blog which I think is a great response to a life which pursues comfort but ends in covetousness: "I am at a point in my life that where I am embracing the hardness of things instead of complaining or praying them away....I want to learn. Learn from past mistakes. Enjoying my own individual training. I am embracing the hand print of God in my life." That's gold.
posted by Mike Bishop at 7:40 AM
1 Comments:
If/when I get all covet-y about someone else's "whatever" (house, kids, lifestyle, looks - WHATEVER), I tell myself that if I got their "whatever," I would have to take the whole package. Not just whatever it is I am coveting, but also the boring marriage, or the eating disorder, or the crazy busy schedule. Helps me be grateful for what I got.
Carolyn H.
Post a Comment
<< Home