I’ve been thinking a lot about economics and freedom. For one thing, I’m currently writing a paper on black people and relationships to the land. Land ownership as a means of signifying and creating opportunities for freedom is a lot of what I’ve been discovering. For another thing, I’ve been reading some Wendell Berry and a bit on GK Chesterton, Dorothy, and Catholic Social Teaching on economics. I’ve leaned towards calling myself a Distributist in the past few years, but I still have a lot to learn about what all it entails. Much of my inclination towards it has to do with it being a people-first economic system. What this has to do with freedom is also tied to my current living situation in community with five other people who I don’t know as well as I’d like, but am learning more about everyday.
If there’s anything I’ve been blown away by in the past few months it is the presence of history in how we currently live– the recognition (partial, at least) of the ways in which our country has worked that has moved us to the place we are now, so dependent on consumerism and capitalism. The lines between social injustices, racism and white supremacy, sexism, mistreatment of the land, poverty, are all being woven together into this great tapestry of history.
One of the things I like to think I’m striving for in my life is wholeness. In being able to look at these histories we have, especially in this country, but definitely extending beyond these borders, the recognition that it is becoming more clear, more plausible and practical to me to believe in the ability to live in such a way that I have the means and agency to choose the good life. I feel it is becoming a little more clear to me how my faith looks in flesh. That is a exciting thing, but also a frightening thing. I’m finding more and more how difficult it is to stand in opposition to many of this inhumane systems we’ve constructed in our society. I’m finding that sometimes it’s easier not to challenge a racist joke, or speak up against misogynistic language, or buy food in ways that supports animal and human dignity. The more I learn about these histories, the more I learn about myself and how much I fail, how much I don’t live up to these realities of freedom and justice I desire, how much my own brokenness breaks the world.
It is language many Christians have gotten away from, that of collective sin, but if anything, living in community certainly magnifies my faults and reveals the ways in which how I live affects those around me.
In the face of so much knowledge and information about the brokenness of the world, it is often easy to become hopeless, to think the problems are too big to solve, but I’m beginning to see that approach is just another way to keep us fragmented people. One of the reasons I like Thomas Merton so much is that he has such a strong gaze on his own heart that enables him to see what’s wrong with the world, and then find it in himself and realize how much he is the problem. That is kind of what I’ve begun to see, though in no way am I as faithful or observant to life as brother Merton was. But it is here that I would like to speak of the place of community.
I always like to say that community, while meaning a lot of things, particularly has to do with being in relationship with people who know me well enough to hold me accountable for who I say I am called to be, and vice versa. In living with 5 other college students, it’s inevitable that late night conversations delving into how we can solve the worlds problems, or at least in pointing out the worlds problems, will occur. But what’s also inevitable, or maybe should be, is the recognition of the problems within our own community, the brokenness and disconnectedness that exists here among us, and the ease with which we can look outside our door and find people and systems who are failing, but the great difficulty it is to confront each other with the realities of our fears and hurts and disappointments. It is the easy thing to do to look smart and wax poetic about how certain situations have come to be and how it is our Christian responsibility to work to challenge injustice (and it certainly is!), but it is the difficult thing to see that changing anything in our world can’t come out of a place that is secretly holding onto the same vices that it rails against. I can’t be as effective in serving anyone outside of the walls of my home if I’m not able to serve those in my home, first. And I’m not able to effectively serve anyone in my home if I’m not able to really see myself and my brokenness and really let the Lord begin to work on me. Really begin to devote myself to disciplines that promote and cultivate a hospitable and peaceable person.
In some ways I feel like this was a bit unguided in movement, but maybe that’s why it’s title “In search of…”. With all the insights and mind-blowing realizations I’ve had in the past few months, I still don’t know where exactly that’s taking me, though I’m getting a clearer picture of what is required of me and what life might look like.
-Amaryah
Here’s a shot of our lovely new garden beds. Justin and Aaron found some unloved wood and used it to construct the beds, then the two of them and I (amaryah) filled them with horse manure. It’s really awesome, and is actually quite large. I’m excited to see what we’re going to grow for the spring. We haven’t quite decided, though Austin’s also working on learning to grow mushrooms so that should be fun.
