Inequality: Businesses Lessening the Gap, Healing the Wounds

My previous blog dug below the surface of the oft-asked question of how to help the poor. I explored ways to lessen the shalom-sapping effects of inequality. I advocated for healing the wounds of shame and buffering people from social evaluative anxieties through radical inclusiveness and kinship in Christ. Of course the more obvious response to address the problems flowing from inequality is to deal with the economics of the gap between the rich and the poor. To have dug deeper and focused on shame was not meant to invalidate the significance of this more obvious action. As I wrote last month, one economic strategy focuses on the macro level. Richard Wilkinson calls for this sort of action in his Ted Talk—careful to give suggestions that those on the right could embrace and others that those on the left could embrace. Certainly these strategies are worthy of our attention and effort. In this blog, however, I want to focus at the micro level of individual businesses. Christian business leaders have tremendous potential impact. They can directly affect the earnings of people involved in their business; and because of the amount of time employees spend at work, employers have great opportunity to also address shame and status anxiety—the focus of the previous blog.

The possibilities excite me, but I am not an expert in business or the sociology of inequality. So after I had the above thoughts a few years ago I wrote to friend with more expertise. I asked what he thought of the idea of churches exhorting business owners to lessen inequality in their businesses. I suggested that might include more profit sharing and changing of salaries within a company, but just as importantly taking actions to increase the dignity of everyone who works there. He responded:

Mark,

This is very good. I had a conversation just today with my oldest brother "David," who is Human Resources director for a large RV company. He was asking me what he might do to increase "buy in" among employees since they have been experiencing a higher turnover rate recently. They are working on improving pay and the company owner is committed to doing that although in small increments, but David would like to do some other things. I told him that an underlying issue is communicating to workers that they, their views, and their work, are valued and respected. So we had a conversation very similar to the closing lines in your e-mail. Incidentally, my second oldest brother is the owner of a different RV-related company. He has worked at what you describe through profit-sharing for all workers, but also through weekly updates on company productivity, profits, and "lean-ness"—a topic in which he is deeply invested and wants everyone to share in. He believes transparency makes a big difference. “Mike,” (my second oldest brother) also told me that they recently lost a very good worker simply because the worker, a welder, was frustrated because the company had sold a number of the units he'd worked on at a discount. It made him angry to know that his work was being "under-valued." This story came up as we discussed the importance of communicating to workers that they and their work has real value and dignity.

Hearing about his brothers reminded me of my friend Jacobo in Honduras. I made this short video to tell how his passion to follow God’s call for justice in Isaiah 58 led to surprising changes in his factory—surprising to Jacobo in the way honor and dignity played a key role, and surprising to the skeptical factory owner that profit sharing actually lead to increased profits.

Seeking to lessen inequality in business is not a call to turn businesses into charities. People who, unlike me, have expertise in these fields share examples of how raising the wages of a company’s lowest paid workers helps not just society, but the business’s bottom line; and how the cooperative model makes good business sense. Others would likely debate these points, but in the end we are not trying to give business advice. Rather the Church is calling business people, as it calls people in other roles and professions, to seek to have their ultimate loyalty to the Kingdom of God and ask how they might follow the ways of Jesus throughout the week.

As I wrote last month, in relation to the inequality gap, it is crucial that the church itself is seeking to live in a centered way and not setting up in-groups and out-groups and status hierarchies. Churches can also challenge their members to apply this in their lives outside of the church—especially those who as supervisors have authority over others. How are they treating people with less income and less social or employee status than they have? How are they thinking about wages and profit-sharing? Have they considered shifting to an employee owned model? Think of the impact if all Christian business people across the nation, around the globe, made an increased effort in the weeks ahead to take actions like Jacobo, David and Mike!  The result at the macro level of all these micro-level efforts would be immense. How can we encourage others to follow the example of Jacobo, David and Mike?

 

 

Posted on March 2, 2017 .

Helping the Poor: Getting Beyond the Superficial

Generally there is some truth in obvious answers. But often digging deeper leads to greater insight. For instance, in recent years countries in Central America have led the world in murders per capita. Gangs are one of several contributing factors. With greater urgency people have asked: why do youth join gangs? Perhaps the most common answer is poverty and a lack of jobs. My friend, sociologist Bob Brenneman, agreed that poverty is a crucial factor. But he made the important observation: not all, not even a majority, of impoverished youth in the same neighborhood join gangs. So, he dug deeper asking: why these youth? What is different?

In his book, Homies and Hermanos: God and Gangs in Central America, Bob describes joining a gang as a desperate grasp for respect. Repeatedly, the sixty-three ex-gang members he interviewed carried profound shame from painful years in especially dysfunctional families and other experiences of social exclusion. The honor and a sense of belonging offered by gangs had a special power of attraction for these youth. Bob’s digging led to this and other insights. It is a great book filled with captivating narratives and excellent analysis. I commend it to you. I also commend following his example—digging deeper rather than simply accepting conventional wisdom. For instance…..

Many use levels of wealth as the obvious and simplest indicator of quality of life—a rich county is a better place to live than a poorer one. In response to the question:  How do we help the poor suffer less? The obvious answer is increase a poor individual’s income, or a poor country’s GDP. We might think of this as poverty line thinking—what matters is helping boost people above that line into a better life. I certainly had that mindset when I lived in Honduras. Granted, a certain amount of resources are necessary for thriving, but if we dig deeper this answer is not necessarily the best one.

Kate Pickett and Richard Wilkinson go deeper than the obvious answer in their book The Spirit Level. They combined various measures of well-being, such as life expectancy, literacy, infant mortality, incarceration, mental illness, addiction, social mobility, obesity and homicides, and found that, amongst developed nations the ones with the highest level of well-being were not the richest ones, but those with the lowest levels of economic inequality between the richest 20% and the poorest 20%. And those with the worst levels of well-being were not the poorest but those with the highest levels of economic inequality.

Levels of economic inequality

Note in this graph that Portugal and the USA stand right next to each other in level of inequality, yet if the graph displayed per capita income they would be at opposite ends of the graph and it would be Norway, not Portugal right next to the USA. If we went with conventional wisdom equating wealth with quality of life the USA and Norway would be best, and Portugal the worst. But in fact Portugal and the USA are next to each other, the worst, in the following graph of well-being.

Inequality is the key determining factor. Another way of making this point is to look at a graph that charts income rather than inequality. Unlike the above graph, there is no correlation between the two factors—the dots are scattered all over the graph.

What we observe in these summary charts matches chart after chart on the individual factors, and charts that compare states as well.

Thus, after digging deeper we observe that, in a general sense, the most important thing to do to help the poor thrive is not increase income levels but to lower the level of inequality. (Even as I write that sentence I resist. Something in me shouts out: “but raising incomes levels matter!” and protests: “This study is only of ‘developed’ nations.” True. There are countries, contexts, and individuals where increased resources are crucial. But, even in those situations inequality matters—poor people in a poor country with low inequality are better off than poor people in a poor country with high inequality.) Returning to the earlier poverty line image, we might conclude, certainly it is a good thing to help people get above that line, but we are missing something crucial if we only look at that one line and not also the line at the top that identifies the very wealthy. We must pay attention to the two lines and the gap between those lines—and seek to lessen that gap between the rich and the poor.

When one digs deeper you find not only better answers to the question asked, but discover important things you were not even asking. Here is a big one. As Wilkinson explains in a Ted Talk it is not just that the poor are worse off in countries with high inequality—those in the middle and the rich are affected to. All across the income spectrum people are affected negatively by high inequality. So, lowering inequality helps not just the poor; it helps all.

This calls for action. We can increase shalom for all by lessening the inequality gap. One response is at the macro level. Wilkinson calls for this sort of action in his Ted Talk—careful to give suggestions that those on the right could embrace and others that those on the left could embrace. Certainly these are worthy of our attention and effort. Again, however, digging deeper has value. What is behind this? Why does greater inequality lessen shalom? The Ted Talk does not answer address that question, but in their book Wilkinson and Picket do. After comparing data from various countries, their conclusion is: “Greater inequality seems to heighten people’s social evaluation anxieties by increasing the importance of social status” (43). Status competition increases, and with it shame for not measuring up. They make clear that this is not just an emotional or psychological issue. This shame and the stress related to status competition negatively impacts health and interpersonal relationships.

Shame. Our digging has brought us to the same place that Bob Brenneman’s digging brought him. What does this mean for us as Christian communities as we seek to help the poor (and everyone else) by addressing the problem of the large inequality gap?

We can and should take concrete actions to increase income levels of the poor around us. But we simply cannot push people up high enough and fast enough. Even as we push people above the poverty line they still will face a larger gap of inequality than they would have thirty of forty years ago because in the United States in recent decades the gap has grown larger and larger; it is much larger than most think it is.

Clearly the United States, working from both the right and left, needs to address structural issues and lessen this gap. Christians should be involved. It will be a long challenging task. Yet, right now, today, Christians can take action that will have immediate impact—provide liberation from shame and buffer people from social evaluative anxieties.

- Let us proclaim liberation from the burden of shame through Jesus, using texts like Luke 7 and Luke 15. (Luke 7 magazine article, sermon; Luke 15 Bible study.)

- Shame is a relational wound and the healing must be relational. Let our churches be places of healing and protection from shame. Through this recent election season and now in the first weeks of the Trump presidency walls of division and status anxiety have increased. The need and opportunity for the church to center on Jesus, invite all to the table, and live out Galatians 3:28 are great.

- Of course, if the church is truly to be a haven and place of healing, then, in the words of former student Kathy Streeter, let us “refuse to let inequality enter the doors of the church.” We can be, as Jim Tune, another former student, writes, “an alternate community where things aren't measured by ‘performance’ or economic and social status…. In Scripture James warns against favoritism. I think the church may need to become more vigilant in guarding against this.”

- Let us, in the words of Father Greg Boyle, “stand at the margins so that standing there the margins will be erased.” Father Boyle talks as powerfully, and engagingly, as anyone I have heard on the power of kinship to dismantle shame and disgrace. Listen to this Ted Talk or this On Being interview and allow him to feed your imagination of how we can undo damage caused by the inequality gap through kinship.

- Refusing to let inequality enter the church means resisting consumerism and other forces that do so much to feed status anxiety.

Taking these actions to lessen the shaming power of the inequality gap will have multiplying impact. If the deep digging of Brenneman, Pickett, and Wilkinson is correct, these actions will have ripple effects touching many aspects of people’s lives—contributing to broader and deeper shalom.

To focus on shame does not mean to ignore economics. Many Christians who own businesses will sit in church this Sunday. They have great opportunities to address the inequality gap both through how they structure pay and how they treat workers. I look forward to writing more about this in the near future.

Let us not settle for superficial answers, and as followers of Jesus may we be in the forefront of addressing issues discovered through digging deeper.

 

Posted on February 8, 2017 .

America First?

I grew up with a sense that the United States was a force for good in the world in the face of evils like Hitler’s Germany and the USSR, and that our base motivation was seeking good—peace and freedom for all—and helping those in need. I probably absorbed that more from TV and movies, but my actual schooling did not challenge that until a U.S. History class in college. Then, living in Central America in the early 1980’s, I observed things that went against that narrative. I read about various actions in Latin America in the 20th century that clearly had more to do with protecting or promoting U.S. interests—often U.S. business interests—than protecting the peace, freedom, democracy, and well-being of various countries.

In the spring of 1983 the U.S. Ambassador to Honduras came to an event I attended. Seeing an opportunity, I went over and talked to him and said, “I have heard and read a lot that is critical of U.S. foreign policy in Central America. If you are willing I would appreciate hearing your perspective.” That was a sincere statement, but I was also looking for an opportunity to influence—to tell him some of the things I heard on the ground, to do a bit of lobbying for a different approach. To my amazement he said “yes,” and told me how to set up the appointment.

I sought advice from the UN ambassador to Honduras. He was the father of one of my students—from the Netherlands. I had spoken to him a number of times and knew he shared many of my perspectives. He told me, “Mark, recognize that the man you will be speaking with is very intelligent and very politically astute. He will be very savvy in how he talks to you and he will not be easily influenced.” He also warned me to not say anything too radical. He communicated that the ambassador will come across as a very nice man, but the embassy was involved in some pretty dark stuff.

The ambassador was John Negroponte—a career diplomat. This was not some businessman who Reagan sent to Honduras as a way of rewarding campaign donations. He had served in the embassy in Saigon during the Vietnam War, and after his time in Honduras he went on to even more significant posts including ambassador to the UN, ambassador to Iraq, and Deputy Secretary of State.

I remember very little of our conversation, but two lines remain etched in my mind. At one point I said, “If the United States really wanted to help Honduras why don’t we change the sugar tariff so that Honduras could export more sugar to the United States?” (I recognize that does not sound like a tremendously bold statement. I didn’t think so at the time either, but it seemed like something within the realm of possibility in contrast to something like United Fruit Company or Dole returning land they had gotten through bribes.) To my surprise he readily agreed with me. He said, “True, that would help Honduras.” But then he added, “Mark you must realize that the United States will not do something against its interests. It will not do something to help Honduras if it hurts the U.S.” I was amazed. Here the U. S. ambassador had just told me something that directly contradicted the narrative I had grown up with. I had only discovered this truth through a critically thinking college professor, reading out-of-the-mainstream books and talking to Central Americans critical of the United States. I thought this was some sort of buried secret. I sure had not heard it from John Wayne in movies or from my junior high social studies teachers. But the U.S. Ambassador said it to me directly. In essence he said, “America First.”

This past Friday I heard the president in his inaugural address make that statement—“America First”—repeatedly. Part of me responded positively—“Good, state it clearly. Pull back the curtain and show everyone reality. Let’s not pretend it is otherwise.” Mostly, however, I felt sad and concerned. There was no nuance in Donald Trump’s “America First.” John Negroponte had gone on to give me examples of things the U.S. was doing in Honduras that were mutually beneficial. I wish Negroponte, and his president, would have had an even greater imagination for how not always putting our “interests” first might actually be better not just for Honduras, but for us in the long run—let alone that they would have the imagination to operate with a commitment to justice for all rather just a U.S. first mentality. But at least there was some sense of the importance of global partners, and even if it was just politically motivated by who he was talking to, Ambassador Negroponte did display some sense of concern for the needs of Honduras. I do not hear that in Trump’s statements nor did I sense any concern that thinking only of ourselves might in the end have very negative consequences.

But, in spite of all the energy I put into it in the 1980’s, I am not first and foremost a political scientist. And what I find myself thinking the most about as I reflect on President Trump’s “America First” statements is how they might influence our lives, not at the international level, but at the micro level—locally and individually. I fear that hearing this sort of rhetoric will enflame and legitimize self-oriented behavior—in business and elsewhere. It feels like the exact opposite of what my father said to me so many times: “Think for yourself, but think of others.” It feels the exact opposite of the life and words of the leader we celebrated earlier in the week—Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. It is certainly the opposite of what Jesus called us to.

On the same day that Donald Trump said “America first,” I sat in Fresno County jail and read a story from Chris Hoke’s book, Wanted, to the men who came to the weekly Bible study. It was a story about an inmate reaching out in love to others—not after he got out, but while he was still in prison in solitary confinement. Then in a spirit markedly different than the president’s speech, the men shared ways they are seeking to re-orient their lives—responding to others in the pod not out of anger and fear, but love. They commented on what a difference it makes in a pod if the inmate leaders operate from a place of love rather than anger and hate. We prayed together that Jesus would strengthen us in the way of reaching out to others unselfishly in love.

Posted on January 25, 2017 .

A Facebook Fast: from loneliness to love

Guest blog by Nathan Hunt, co-host of discipleshipandethics.com

 

Just over a year ago I was lonely and discouraged.

Stranded in a new city with no friends, an unreasonable amount of work to do on my thesis, and a couple challenging months into marriage, I spun my wheels in search of connection. Though I rarely posted or interacted with the comments swirling through my feed, I sat longer and longer staring at Facebook.

In several of his works, Henri Nouwen draws a distinction between loneliness and solitude. Loneliness, he says, is a place of isolation where the compulsive self vainly searches for validation. “Who am I?” he asks in The Way of the Heart:

“I am the one who is liked, praised, admired, disliked, hated or despised. Whether I am a pianist, a businessman or a minister, what matters is how I am perceived by my world. If being busy is a good thing, then I must be busy. If having money is a sign of real freedom, then I must claim my money...The compulsion manifests itself in the lurking fear of failing and the steady urge to prevent this by gathering more of the same — more work, more money, more friends.”

If loneliness is the outcome of connection stripped of love, then solitude is its opposite: the choice to disconnect in order to commune fully with Love.

Or in the world of the millennial — more likes, more shares, more comments. But today’s post is lost in the algorithms of tomorrow’s trend, and affirmation without genuine connection could hardly be more fleeting.

So I found myself, for the first time really, in a sustained battle with anger. This anger was not so much the direct result of my time on social media, so much as my anger and time on social media were both reflective of the broader state of loneliness and disconnection into which my heart had fallen.

Again, Nouwen helps me make sense of the spiritual-psychology underneath all this.

"These very compulsions are at the basis of the two main enemies of the spiritual life: anger and greed. They are the inner side of a secular life, the sour fruits of our worldly dependencies. What else is anger than the impulsive response to the experience of being deprived? When my sense of self depends on what others say of me, anger is a quite natural reaction to a critical word. And when my sense of self depends on what I can acquire, greed flares up when my desires are frustrated."

If loneliness is the outcome of connection stripped of love, then solitude is its opposite: the choice to disconnect in order to commune fully with Love.

Without any real thoughtfulness or fanfare — and so, I assume, by the grace of God — I pulled the plug. For the next eight months, I was completely removed from social media and began the slow transition from loneliness to solitude.

And what a liberation it was! It may be that for twenty-first century people, enmeshed in financial and familial connections and responsibilities, simply removing ourselves from Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram accounts is the closest we can come to the desert of the monastic fathers.

Three things happened for me almost right away.

  1. I discovered that a large part of my self-representation was functioning through this digitized, one-dimensional version of myself projected through my “profile.” I realized that even though I wasn't a heavy user relative to many, I still stressed about how I was viewed, the kind of "witness" I was having, how frequently I stuck up for justice, mentioned Jesus, proved that I was still outdoorsy, etc, etc. Leaving Facebook, I was freed to simply be Nathan through my body — through my words and actions in physical presence with others.

  2. I was released from believing that Facebook politicizing and opinion-sharing is authentic (or essential) engagement with the struggles of human beings and this world. I focused instead on showing up physically at political demonstrations, in relationship with the marginalized, or a hurting friend's side. I gravitated toward deeper research than trending articles and embraced real conversation.

  3. I found myself engaging more directly with friends and family (though I still have a lot of work to do on this one!). I sent more personal emails, made more phone calls, chatted on Skype, tried to initiate more coffees.

Facebook can be a tool for good. I’m happy to acknowledge that -- in fact, my organization is currently winning significant rights for homeless people in Denver thanks to a viral Facebook video. But for my personal life, it increasingly failed to cultivate genuine relationship, wasted my time, and raised my stress levels. Most importantly, Facebook entangled me in worldviews that increasingly conformed my mind and behavior to patterns other than Christ’s. As a tool of discipleship, it only led me further from the cruciform life I crave.

Leaving Facebook, I was freed to simply be Nathan through my body — through my words and actions in physical presence with others.

Eventually I came back.

My wife and I wanted to share wedding pictures. I wanted to let people know about a new website and blog I was launching (shameless plug). My job wanted me involved in communications.

But I have not come back the same.

Facebook has not held the same grasp over my identity. My compulsive checking and rechecking has almost faded completely. And my solution to loneliness and self-affirmation seems to rest much more consistently in a different Source.

But the siren song is loud. The noise of the political season fought hard to draw me back into old patterns and contrary habits.

It may be time to disengage again, if only to reconnect with this world and the source of love.

Posted on December 30, 2016 .

Red, Blue, Jesus?

Guest Blog by Phil Schmidt, pastor and 2012 graduate of Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary.

 

Greetings from Tabor Mennonite Church in rural Kansas. In light of the political tension in our country throughout this last year, our church sought to respond in a way that would unify us as a congregation instead of causing deeper divisions. You see, Kansas is a "red state" and many in our congregation also identify more with Republican ideals of smaller government, lower taxes, etc.... But we also have many people in our congregation that identify with Democratic values of larger government for the purpose of caring more for people living on the margins of society. That being said, over these past months, several people in our congregation suggested that they did not feel good about either the Democrat or Republican candidate for president, saying that they were both bad options. In light of these political conversations taking place all around as well as the country's insistence that we fit into one of two groups (Red vs. Blue), we sought to focus on Jesus and find a third way. 

 In the weeks leading up to and surrounding the United States Presidential election, we at Tabor Mennonite Church sought to approach the political tension in our country from a centered-set perspective. We sought to center our thought, discussion, and imagination on Jesus in two specific ways:

 1) Beginning in September, we invited people in the congregation to join a Faith Formation class in which they would read and discuss Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw's book, Jesus for President: Politics for Ordinary Radicals. As the authors say in the book, "Our president is not organizing another political party...Jesus is forming a new kind of people, a different kind of party, whose peculiar politics are embodied in who we are. The church is a people called out of the world to embody a social alternative that the world cannot know on its own terms" (228). This book explores the Bible through this lens and then the last section of the book provides many practical ideas and examples of what this social alternative can look like in the real world. Throughout this Faith Formation class at Tabor, we were challenged to continue centering our minds and imagination on Jesus: how he lived, and how he calls us to live as citizens of God's kingdom each end every day. This also meant shifting our minds and imagination away from the divisive political rhetoric happening all around. The class ended by reading/praying together the "Litany of Resistance" found in Appendix 4 of the book. If you have not read Jesus for President, I encourage you to do so. 

 2) Beginning in October, we participated in a worship series entitled "Faith and Politics: Living the Sermon on the Mount." Throughout this worship series, we reflected on passages from Jesus' revolutionary Sermon on the Mount paired with other powerful passages of scripture (e.g. James 3:13-18, Romans 12:9-21, Matthew 22:15-22) that all emphasized giving our full allegiance to God's upside-down kingdom. Each Sunday, we sought to name the tension in our political system while focusing on the teachings of Jesus to be agents of peace and reconciliation, to live fruitful lives, to treasure up treasures in heaven, etc.... Each Sunday, we prayed the Lord's Prayer together following the intercessory structure of Week 1 in Take Our Moments and Our Days: An Anabaptist Prayer Book. Finally, we ended each service with a benediction in Jesus' words from Matthew 5:13-16: "You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot. You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." Our constant encouragement throughout this series was to be salt and light by giving our allegiance to Jesus and God's kingdom (and not to a particular political party, platform, or person). 

 On the Sunday following the presidential election, we did not celebrate a victory for the Republicans. Nor did we mourn a loss for the Democrats. Rather, we named the fear and pain experienced by many people in our country, especially those living on the margins of society. In the midst of fear and rioting, we prayed for God's peace to reign. And, we again declared our allegiance to God's kingdom and to Christ's way of reconciliation. 

Throughout these last weeks, we have sought to center our focus and imagination on Jesus and God's in-breaking kingdom. Some in the congregation resisted the direction we took in this series, suggesting that I preach a sermon in which I would encourage everyone in the congregation to vote in the upcoming election (and they made it clear to me which candidate was the correct one to vote for).

However, I did not take their advice to encourage people in my congregation to vote for the president of the United States. Rather, I preached a sermon entitled "vote with your life," in which my encouragement was for us all to vote each and every day for God's kingdom through acts of compassion, service, and love. After all, in God's kingdom, the polls are always open (it is best to vote early and often)!

On the other hand, several people in the congregation expressed appreciation for the approach we took through this Faith Formation elective and worship series. During one of our Jesus for President discussions, two young people from our congregation decided that they would spend their Thanksgiving weekend traveling to Standing Rock, North Dakota, to join Christian Peacemaker Teams in standing with the Sioux people protesting the Dakota Access Pipeline. This kind of creative action is a natural result of centering our minds, hearts, and imaginations on Jesus and God's in-breaking kingdom.

I pray that all followers of Jesus can likewise resist the divisive thinking of conservatives vs. liberals and instead pursue a third way, embracing imagination and opportunities to embody God's kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. 

 *  *  *  *

We invite readers to share in the comment section ways you have in recent days sought to lessen division and polarization through centered ways, and ways you have reached out to those on the margins living who are living with increased levels of fear.

Posted on December 7, 2016 .

Bringing Ellul to the City Council

Not many Mennonites run for public office; not many influenced by Ellul run for public office. Robb Davis is an Ellulian Mennonite and the mayor of Davis, California. Check out how his being a Mennonite who reads Ellul influenced the way he ran for office and how he approaches the role. Mark quoted him in the recent blogs on consumerism and reorientation. Here is a longer interview of him by Mark, just published in The Ellul Forum. Davis displays character and speaks with a tone very different than the current U.S. presidential campaign.
 

robb davis.jpg

Published in The Ellul Forum 58 (Fall 2016)  https://journals.wheaton.edu/index.php/ellul

“Bringing Ellul to the City Council: A Council Member Reflects on how Ellul has Guided his Work”

Interview of Robb Davis by Mark D. Baker

 

Robb Davis holds a master’s degree in public health and a Ph.D. in population dynamics from Johns Hopkins University. He has over twenty years’ experience in international development in the field of maternal and child health and nutrition. He was the executive director of the Mennonite Central Committee. He contributed an article to The Ellul Forum (#46). He is fluent in French and reads Ellul in French. He was elected to the Davis, California, city council in June, 2014 and began serving as mayor of Davis in July 2016. In addition to his role in city government he also dedicates a significant amount of time to work on issues related to homelessness and restorative justice in relation to youth crime.

Mark D. Baker, professor of theology and mission at Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary, interviewed Robb on July 7, 2016 as part of the conference of the International Jacques Ellul Society. What follows is an edited version of excerpts of that session, including two of the questions from the audience.

 

Mark:  It would be surprising to many that an enthusiastic reader of Jacques Ellul would run for political office. How did Ellul’s work factor into your decision to run for city council?

Robb: I’ll start by that saying Ellul arguably is the reason I became involved in city politics. Maybe even more surprising than my claiming to have run for office on the basis of something Ellul said, which many might consider to be paradoxical, is that I am also a Mennonite. I wasn’t just trying to break some molds. I had spent about 25 years travelling the world. I was a technician, dispensing wisdom to many villages and communities all over the planet—45 different countries. I started reading Ellul, and Patrick Deneen, and they started challenging me about living and acting locally.  I realized that I didn’t know anything about my hometown Davis, California. So about 7 years ago, I stopped travelling. I decided not to get in an airplane anymore. And that changed everything, and not always in a good way. Because when you make a decision like that, all of a sudden everything that your identity is tied up in is no longer there. People in my hometown didn’t know me. When I started digging into my hometown I realized that the brokenness that I had experienced other places was actually more profound in Davis, California. We had a veneer of privilege and beauty, and not too far below the surface we had serious problems of addiction and homelessness and racism and exclusion. And the more I got involved, the more I realized that acting locally is really not fun. I didn’t really want to look at it. I wanted to leave, actually, but I stuck it out. While staffing an overnight shelter I saw firsthand how we fail as a society to treat mental health, how we fail as a society to deal with addiction, and how these things are syndromes that leave people broken, and our solutions are to toss the problems over to the nonprofits to try to figure out a solution. So what I want to say about that experience, and where I really drew from Ellul quite a bit, was the idea of the flourishing of intermediating entities outside the state. The state was incapable, even at a local level, of really effectively dealing with these problems. Into the interstices into the breach, came these small organizations. My commitment at that time was to try to work with them to make them stronger, to help them plan, to try to take some things I’d learned in my trips around the world, and to try to bring them into the community. And of course in a situation like that sometimes you do that for a while, and you’re asked to be on a commission, you’re asked to be on a task force, and then somebody knocks on your door one day and says, “Maybe it would be useful for you to run for office.” I didn’t believe that I should or could do it. And my main concern was some things that were raised today at this conference about power. Could I go into politics and authentically bring some solutions? The thing that pushed me towards the decision was the idea that perhaps in that role, and this gets back to power, I could encourage the flourishing of these intermediating agencies in the community. I could encourage them. Because one reality of being a political leader is, when you pick up the phone and say to someone, “Come to a meeting,” they’ll come. They will. I thought, “Maybe I can bring people around the table who aren’t talking to each other, maybe I can bring the school district together with the police department, together with the city, to do a restorative justice program.”

Another key factor that led me to run was born out of something I read in Ellul: “A key fact of this civilization is that more and more, sin has become collective and that the individual is constrained to participate in it.”  (Ellul, Présence au monde modern, 1948, p. 19—Robb’s translation). I was talking to a friend of mine, and we realized that if we had someone in office who was engaging in regular confession about our participation in that collective sin, maybe that would be helpful to a community. And so I’ve tried to make it my practice to be confessional.

Mark: How did Ellul influence your campaign, how you ran?

Robb: In The Technological Society Ellul, commenting about propaganda, states: “Whether technique acts to the advantage of the dictator or the democracy it makes use of the same weapons, acts on the individual, manipulates his subconscious in identical ways, and in the end leads to the formation of exactly the same type of human being” (375). What I saw is that people running for office even locally were using propaganda for very, very specific ends, which is the building of allegiance toward themselves. They have around them people using propaganda to do one basic thing: build allegiance toward that figurehead. Why? Because it’s a lot easier to raise money when you can invite someone to pay $300 a plate at a table around a leader than it is to give it to some disembodied political party or university. So right out of the gate, I was being told, “You’ve got to sell yourself. This is about you, Robb. This is about your image; this is about what you’ve done in the community.” And I knew I couldn’t do that. I mean, I could have done that, but I felt like that was idolatry. That the real problem with propaganda is that it creates allegiance towards something that’s not God. And I am a follower of Jesus. So I struggled with that.

When I was discerning whether to run or not, through a long series of conversations others helped me understand that it came down to two things. Could I run a campaign where I could be honest about my limits? And the limits of political power? I brought that commitment into the campaign, but my campaign team said, “Do not ever talk about that.” I wrote an essay that I put out on a local news blog, without telling my campaign team, and it was entitled, “I’m going to disappoint you.” What I was trying to say is, “you are projecting on me many, many hopes. You are projecting on me your desires. I’m going to disappoint you. Because there’s no way I can fulfill those needs.” So that decision to not listen to my campaign team, and to actually get them upset, was an intentional act to try to communicate that I did not have solutions to these problems. That all I offered was the ability to try to bring people together, to try to work together to solve some of the issues.

Mark: With the campaign team, was it one time you did this, and they said, “Robb that’s stupid,” and then it was over, or was it ongoing conflict with them?

Robb: It was ongoing conflict, but not about everything. For instance, I made a commitment during the campaign, that my political career begins and ends in Davis. So I am committed to localism. I’m committed to this bioregion. I’m committed to naming the giftedness of the people in this town and drawing on that giftedness to solve our problems. I’m committed to understanding the natural resources, to solving conflict locally. So I laid that out and I said, “This is my commitment, that I will not seek higher office.” My campaign team was okay with that.

I think the reason I won, even though I did not always follow the counsel of my campaign team, is that we knocked on every single door in the community and I held almost 40 face-to-face meetings around tables in neighborhoods where we sat and listened to people. And, oh my goodness the fear and the trauma I encountered in a privileged community like Davis; you would be shocked by what people were afraid of. And all they wanted was someone to listen.

Mark: Let’s return to your comment about confession for collective sin. Can you give an example of how you do that?

Robb: I am asked to speak frequently at different events. Recently I spoke at a demonstration against Bakken crude oil coming through our town by rail. It is very volatile and there have been railroad accidents and explosions in other places, killing many people and causing significant environmental destruction. What I mean by public confession is standing in front of a group of environmental activists and saying, “You know the oil company is not going to the Bakken formation to make our lives miserable. The oil-producing company is not going to the Bakken shale to give us heartache, or to challenge our goal of local control of land use. They’re going to the Bakken shale because we’re telling them too. We’re asking them, we’re begging them, our society, our lifestyles are drenched in oil. That’s why they’re going.” Now, that’s my public confession of my participation in systemic sin. We’re raping Canada’s timber to build houses in California. We’ve despoiled the Ecuadorian rainforests to drive our cars. We need to say that; we need to acknowledge that. And I’ve felt like I could make a commitment to do that. And in the end to be confessional to acknowledge my role in the systemic.

Mark: Ellul wrote: “The first great fact which emerges from our civilization is that today everything has become ‘means.’ There is no longer an ‘end;’ we do not know whither we are going. We have forgotten our collective ends, and we possess great means: we set huge machines in motion in order to arrive nowhere” (Jacques Ellul, Presence of the Kingdom, p. 63). How have you observed this?

Robb: Two months after I was elected an MRAP, Mine-Resistant Armored Personnel Carrier, arrived in our town. It looks like a tank without a turret.  It was surplus military equipment sent by the U.S. Government at the request of our police department.

Mark: Sent to your town and many others. . .

Robb: Many others. Hundreds of towns across the United States. I asked, “We need a tank?” And the police said, “Yes. We need it for lone shooter events were somebody’s hiding and shooting. We need it in case of a disaster. We need it in case there’s a riot.”

Means and ends. The day it arrived, the first thing that came into my mind was, “Means and ends.” What did Ellul say about means and ends? Now let’s think about this vehicle, the MRAP. It has an end. It was developed for a reason. It was developed for one very specific reason. It can carry large numbers of soldiers down a flat Iraqi road, have an explosive device go off underneath it, and preserve the lives of the people inside. It was created because of a lie. If you disagree with me that the Iraq war was a lie we can discuss it later. The end to which it was set was based on a lie. It achieved the end of keeping people alive, but when the war was over, the U.S. Government needed to do something with it, and so it committed to sending these MRAP’s to every community that wanted one in the United States, no strings attached. A vehicle worth $750,000 each.

And our police are saying to me, “We need it. We need it.” So I challenged them, and I said, “What’s the concern? Security, right? We need it for our security.” And we did Town Hall meetings, and people came and said, “We need it for our security.” That’s the end that we’re trying to achieve, security.

So I asked the police in public meetings, “What’s the security threat?” They said two things, which are very telling in this world. And think of this through the lens of Ellul. Everything is becoming means. We’ve forgotten the ends. So we have a machine that’s created for certain ends, which are based on a lie, now this machine, this means, is coming to a community and what we’re trying to do is find an end that justifies this means so that we can keep it. We “create” ends to justify its continued use. But it’s an instrument of power and control.

And so, the police said, “Well, we have drug deals going down in our town, and the drug dealers are stealing each other’s stashes, and they get into gun battles with each other, and we need it in case we’re going in to arrest the drug dealers because they’re heavily armed.”

Okay, now think about that in terms of ends. The first question was, “Who’s buying the drugs?” And the police turned to me and said, “Our largest problem is drug sales--a heroin problem among our young people and a methamphetamine problem among our middle-aged population.”  This is a real problem in our community. The demand for drugs is not dropping out of the sky; Again, these guys are not cultivating drugs and selling them just to make our lives hell, they’re doing it because there is a demand. So how do we respond to this problem? We’re going to address addiction with an MRAP. We are trying to achieve certain ends (reduction in drug sales) by focusing on the wrong means. We should be looking at the causes of addiction, not stopping drug sales caused by it with an MRAP

The second one is even more telling. It gave me chills and I hope it gives you chills too. The assistant chief of police came to me separately, and said, “Robb, we have legitimate concerns. There are people in this community who are tactically trained. They’re trained in police tactics, and they know how to counter us, and by the way Robb—some of these folks have PTSD. If they get guns in their hands, it’s very difficult for us to deal with them.” And I said, “We have people in our community who are tactically trained, who have PTSD, and access to weapons?” He said, “Yeah. Former military.”

Means and ends, right? We go off to Iraq. We wage war. Men come back with PTSD, tactically trained. And the way we deal with them is an MRAP so that we can take them out? And the government is not paying anything to deal with the PTSD? This is the way we’re dealing with the problems in our community? With an MRAP? So we voted to get rid of it. It felt significant, but the Department of Defense sent it 10 miles north to the city of Woodland. We were the laughingstock of the neighborhood. The big blowback came a few weeks later though and relates to another insight from Ellul. In the film, “The Betrayal of Technology” he said, “Technique will not tolerate (or accept) any judgment passed on it.  In other words, technicians do not easily tolerate people expressing an ethical or moral judgment on what they do.”

“Technique does not accept judgment.” Moral Judgment.  And then Ellul wrote, “in other words, the technician.” I find it very interesting that he started by saying, “la technique.” Which shows me that technique is a spiritual power. In addition to the technicians, there is la technique, there is technique, which is the Power. The blowback we got, which was severe, and I almost thought I was going to be recalled, was that we were accused of compromising the security of our city. We were accused. I sat with the police and the police said, “We are the experts. We understand security. You are a politician, you do not know about security, you’ve taken a tool of security out of our hands.” I said to them in a public meeting, “The problem I have with the MRAP is that it is a symbol.” It is a symbol of the most destructive military force that the world has ever known, and we’re bringing that into our community.”

Most politicians don’t want to talk about ends, because a lot of times the ends that they’re working towards are hidden. They’re not the ends that they say publically. Push them on ends. Push them. Push them. The other thing is that we do have, in every bureaucracy, we have people who are enamored with means who will look for ends to which the means can be applied. It is means in search of ends.

Mark: In what ways have you personally felt challenged in relation to these themes we have been talking about, and what have you done in response?

Robb: People don’t corrupt you overtly. They do it this way: “Man, you’re amazing. You know if you—I know we have a weak mayor form of government Robb but, if you push this, it’ll pass, because people respect you. And so, could you push it?” So it’s subtle. It’s people projecting their hopes on you and convincing you, or trying to convince you that you are the solution to the problem, and if you take the lead—and that’ s every single day. Every single day there is the temptation to use power in a way that looks good, but here’s what happens. For instance, I want to work on restorative justice with youth. So one day I pick up the newspaper and it says, “Robb Davis led the initiative on restorative justice.” I read it and think, “Actually, no I didn’t. There were like 10 of us in the room.” So I have a choice at that point. Am I going to go correct the paper and say, “Actually there were 10 of us in the room, and I didn’t lead anything.” Or am I going to let that go.

And most people would say, “Let it go. Let it go.” Because if you let it go, you can move that initiative forward so much more quickly. People will follow you. And you’ll be able to move much more quickly.”

Here’s what happens: The goal is restorative justice. That is the end that you want to achieve. What happens when you start listening to those voices, or when you don’t correct those errors, or when you accept you know that praise? You actually start going doing that path. And you start saying, “You know what’s most important is that I am able to bring change.” And so what I need to do is I need to accumulate a little more of that status and power so that I can be better at bringing change.

Two things can occur. First, I can use the positive end, restorative justice, to justify means inconsistent with restorative justice itself and, for me, importantly, inconsistent with the way of Jesus. Second, with increased emphasis on the means to achieve power, eventually the original end of implementing the practice of restorative justice can get lost. Achieving power becomes the true end—even if not the acknowledged one.

Therefore, I must re-orient regularly. I so easily get pulled off track.  As part of that re-orientation I have had to do things likego before people and say, “You know what, I should’ve spoken up earlier, I had nothing to do with that. I didn’t do anything about that. I can’t take any credit for that.”

Mark: As you point out, to make effectiveness the supreme goal can become problematic, yet you do seek to be effective, correct? As you state, you desire to see an increased practice of restorative justice. You want to be effective in that.

Robb: Yes, we can’t live without some commitment to effectiveness. The problem is making effectiveness or efficiency the supreme goal that drives and determines everything.  I have found it is of utmost importance to have made premediated commitments. For instance, like Ellul I am committed to not use violence. Without that commitment, if violence appeared to be required to achieve a goal I might too easily succumb to the ends justifying that means—the means of violence. Ellul has certainly been a key influence in helping me, as a follower of Jesus, determine what my pre-commitments are—things I will not do in spite of what efficiency may demand or promise. This is not to say I am always faithful. As I just said, re-orientation is a constant necessity.

David Lovekin: If I were an average citizen in Davis I would probably have the idea that you are a thoughtful politician, more thoughtful than most, but would I know you are a Christian?

Robb: I made a decision to bring some explicit Christian theological language into my day-to-day political work. One explicit way I bring in faith language, and I think an authentic way, is to say what I’m actually doing as a leader in the community is I’m looking out for giftedness. I’m looking for gifts that can be brought to bear on dealing with the challenges of our community. So I use concepts like that, that we are given gifts. I don’t say God gives us gifts, I say we are given gifts, and they’re for the good of the community. That’s Paul. I also say, to my colleagues, “What we need to be modeling as a council is grace and forgiveness.” I talk explicitly about needing to reconcile the broken relationships in our community. And I do that by encouraging factions, whether it’s in the business community or whatever, to go through mediated processes. And these are things that have never happened before in Davis, but we’re starting them, and we’re having some success. And I talk about reconciliation and forgiveness. Grace, reconciliation, forgiveness, giftedness. Confession. I encourage people to confess when they hurt someone else. So I bring those terms in because they’re meaningful to me. I think they’re meaningful to the discourse. People definitely pursue me afterwards on certain things and say, “Where did you get that from? Like giftedness. What do you mean by that, Robb?” I haven’t had any pushback, and part of it is I’m not saying, “Paul said,” “Jesus taught.”

David Gill: As an ethics professor I always say to my students something like this: “Ethics is a team sport, not a solo sport. So you’re not going to do well living or discerning what’s right all by yourself. So you need some people around you.” So my question is, do you have some people around you who will help keep you sane, keep you in check so you don’t get arrogant about good things that happen?

Robb: In the spirit of confession, I think I’m doing that rather poorly. Leadership of this kind is isolating. And there are real trust issues. So the people who I trust are not engaged in city politics. And people engaged in city politics have some trust issues. Can I just acknowledge that? So I’m not doing a very good job at that. And it’s lonely and it’s not healthy.

Mark: But you do have people that you get together with who pray for you?

Robb: Yes, every two months we have a small group of people who come together on a Saturday afternoon and they put their hands on me and they pray for grace and patience and wisdom. You know, that’s important. But it’s not easy to get a group of people around who can simultaneously entertain deep conversation on policy and really be trustworthy--that they don’t have an interest that they’re trying to push. And I haven’t found that group yet. And I’m despairing that I will. And so, maybe I’ll just leave it at that.

 

Posted on November 6, 2016 .

The Urgency of Resistance: A Confrontation with Consumption

Within the bubble of my seminary classroom and my neighborhood small group I can develop the sense that Christians are resisting the strong current of consumerism. Recently I left the bubble.

I visited a Christian family who are active church members and give generously, yet they live large. Their house, garage, and lives are filled with big new expensive things.

I felt frustration thinking about how what they spent on luxuries could have aided those who do not have necessities. Although many, entering the home, would have thought “what a great life they have” I felt sadness for them. Their home and purchases reflect good desires, and admittedly meet some of those desires. Yet I fear that things they buy often function as a detour from experiencing those desires in a full and deep way—or at times even a road block.

We often use bigger and better things to seek to fill our longings, but they are like cotton candy—moments of pleasure that do not provide what we truly need.

Having desperately poor Hondurans in mind, whenever I lead a Bible study on Luke 12 I state that a certain amount of possessions does make life better, but Jesus challenges the myth that more is better. “One’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15). Having an abundance of possessions produces clutter in our homes and our lives. We buy things, but they easily become our masters. They consume our attention and our time. They serve to insulate us from reality—at times from beautiful reality, and at times from painful reality we would rather avoid, but do so at our peril.

We often use bigger and better things to seek to fill our longings, but they are like cotton candy—moments of pleasure that do not provide what we truly need. I am convinced that the way of gratitude and contentment, rather than the path of consumeristic grasping for more, will yield much greater shalom. And not only for this family, but also for creation itself. This step out of my bubble left me with a sense of conviction that we need to do more to address the issue of consumerism in the Christian world.

That conviction grew when I attended a conference of the International Jacques Ellul Society. A number of speakers urged us to reflect on root issues like consumerism. Robb Davis, the mayor of Davis California, had joined with others to protest against Bakken oil being shipped through their city by rail. He told us that he participated in the protest, but in his speech he reminded the protesters that the oil companies were not extracting and shipping this oil motivated by a desire to create lethal train accidents or damage the environment. “They extract oil from Bakken shale because we are asking them to. Our societies, our lives are drenched in oil.” They do what they do because we buy their product.

At another moment in the conference, someone commented on how the nearby San Francisco Bay is much cleaner now than it was 50 years ago. Another conference attendee said, “Yes, California has done great at getting bad stuff out of California, but it has not stopped buying huge amounts of things whose production creates the same sort of toxins in other places that used to pollute the Bay.”

I encourage you to join me in considering how we can live differently and call other Christians to do more to resist the pull of consumerism.

We confront consumerism out of concern for sustainable life on earth, love for the poor, and love for those who have been seduced by the lies of consumerism.

Care for creation and the ability to share more with others in need are reasons enough to do this. (For instance, today our mission agency is sending $180 of scholarship money to a Bible institute in Peru. Six of the thirty students could only pay half of the $60 cost [books and tuition] for the course. The needs and opportunities are great.)

Yet the benefits are not just for creation and the needy. A lifestyle focused on enough, on gratitude and sharing, rather than on getting more, is a richer more shalom-filled life. We confront consumerism out of concern for sustainable life on earth, love for the poor, and out of love for those who have been seduced by the lies of consumerism.

 

How do we respond to the rampant consumerism in our society?

 

Here are some ideas for responding at the personal level.

1. First, rather than simply comparing myself to the family mentioned above and thinking I am doing well on this topic because we only have one car, and it is ten years old, or we have not yet bought a flat screen TV, I am challenged to reflect on how I too am swept along in the current. What can I do to lessen my consumption?

2. Recognize that manufacturers are constantly designing products that are better in some way—more efficient, more comfortable, or simply a new style—to compel us to discard the old and buy the new. I try to ask, “Is what I have working. If so, why replace it?” I can do better at this.

3. In relation to our purchases, ask the Amish question: “Will this bring us together, or increase isolation and alienation?”

4. I could renew a practice from my past. Figuratively speaking, I brought one of my impoverished Honduran friends with me as I shopped. Similarly, we can seek to keep in mind how our purchases might affect creation.

5. I have been too private about this. I am committing myself to bring this topic up in our small group and discuss how we can help each other take more significant steps of freedom.How do we respond to the rampant consumerism in our society?

Here are some ideas  for us as we work with others.

7. In general, churches give little attention to this topic. We must do better. Let us, in our conversations, preaching, counseling, and teaching expose the lie, proclaim that for many people less possessions, not more, would lead to more shalom in their life. And, when thinking of homes and cars, bigger is not always better.

8. Watch The Story of Stuff and discuss it with others, or use other resources on our website

Often we are not buying things to demonstrate we are better than others; rather we consume just to fit in and join the circle.

We must do much more, however, than provide information. There is tremendous societal pressure to buy bigger and better because status is measured and gained through possessions. But as Allison Pugh illustrates in her book, Longing and Belonging: Parents, Children and Consumer Culture, often we are not buying things to demonstrate we are better than others; rather we consume just to fit in and join the circle. And, one’s insider place is not secure. Fads and fashion change. Dignity through consumption achieved one day can be gone the next (7, 224). Advertising amplifies this shame and pressure. It seeks to make us feel dissatisfied with who we are (and promises us a lie that if we buy x product then. . .).

 

What can we do in response to these realities?

 

1. Name people. I am convinced that the best antidote to consumerism is confidence that flows from the security of identity rooted in Jesus.

2. Work with intentionality to make churches communities of inclusion that are not possession based, and thus undercut the spirit of consumerism that promises belonging through buying. (Think of re-writing Galatians 3:28 in terms of possessions rather than ethnicity and gender.)

3. Proclaim that through the cross Christ has liberated us from the powers described in the paragraph above. (Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat do a great job of this in Colossians Remixed, 137-38.)

3. James K. A. Smith writes: “I think we should first recognize and admit that the marketing industry—which promises an erotically charged transcendence through media that connects to our heart and imagination—is operating with a  better, more creational, more incarnational, more holistic anthropology than much of the (evangelical) church. . . [The marketing industry] has rightly discerned that we are embodied, desiring creatures whose being-in-the-world is governed by the imagination...  [We] are oriented primarily by love and passion and desire” (Desiring the Kingdom, 76).

4. Let us stir people’s passion for alternatives to consumerism. Tell stories of people’s lives that were enriched through downsizing. Portray alternative visions of retirement. 

5. Consumeristic society honors conspicuous consumption; look for opportunities to do the opposite. Honor generosity, moderation, reusing and repairing, sustainability, etc.; and cultivate a spirit of gratitude.

6. How might we do what Smith points to through our worship services?

7. For an embodied activity invite others from your church to join you in spending an hour at a mall looking at it critically, thinking of it as a place of worship and formation. (Many of you have done this as a class assignment in Discipleship and Ethics. If you have not and would like a fuller description of the assignment send me an e-mail.)

8. Just as important as exposing and critiquing is providing positive alternatives. Ask the question: in what ways is life more than possessions? Then work to increase in your community those things possessions cannot provide.

9. What other ideas do you have?

 

I write this blog with depth of conviction. We must act.

Seeking to live with less can be liberating; it can also enslave. There was a period in my life in which I was consumed with not consuming. Let us, in the pursuit of an ethics of freedom, keep asking: Where’s the beauty?

I also write with some hesitancy. In relation to this topic it is so easy to get bogged down in guilt, or filled with self-righteousness and a sense of superiority. Seeking to live with less can be liberating; it can also enslave. There was a period in my life in which I was consumed with not consuming. I wrestled over most every purchase, and invested enormous energy seeking to discern something that does not exist—the right Christian lifestyle. I pressured myself and others through a bounded approach of line-drawing. It was not a place of shalom.

As we act and seek to follow Jesus in relation to this topic, let us be gracious to ourselves and others.

A few readers of an earlier draft of this blog affirmed the imperative of resisting consumerism, but urged me to include a greater sense of the positives of a lifestyle of enough, of contentment, and generosity. In response I did add some lines, yet there is much more that could be said. This morning as I read the final chapter, on beauty, in John D. Roth’s book Practices: Mennonite Worship and Witness. I was reminded of his response to the earlier draft of this blog. He asked, “Mark, where is the beauty?”

I invite you to respond to the question in the comment section. How have you experienced beauty and shalom through resisting consumerism and following the way of Jesus?

 

Posted on October 12, 2016 .

Book Review: The Omnivore's Dilemma

In The Omnivore’s Dilemma Michael Pollan presents the history of four meals from their source to his plate. He follows the path corn takes from Iowa to his fast-food meal; he compares the journey of two organic meals, one purchased at Whole Foods and the other from a single farm; and he describes the hunting, gathering and growing he did to produce the fourth meal.  

Technique is a dominant theme in the book. Often it is explicitly on the surface. How could one not think of Jacques Ellul and technique when reading sentences like: “There are a great many reasons American cattle came off the grass and into the feedlot, and yet all of them finally come down to the same one: Our civilization and, increasingly, our food system are strictly organized on industrial lines. They prize consistency, mechanization, predictability, interchangeability, and economies of scale” (2006, p. 201).

Yet technique bashing is not Pollan’s primary aim. In fact, Joel Salatin, the farmer most praised in the Omnivore’s Dilemma, uses a lot of technique in doing sustainable agriculture. Here are just two examples. The schedule of what happens on a particular section of pasture is carefully controlled. Chickens follow cattle, and neither are allowed to graze too long; Salatin seeks optimum yield by allowing the grass to grow for a specific amount of time before bringing the cattle back. A super-lightweight portable electronic fence is a vital element in the whole operation.

Contrasting case studies in Pollan offer the opportunity to ask the question: what is the difference between the role of technique at an industrialized cattle feedlot operation and at Joel Salatin’s farm? In one we see what concerned Ellul, the rule of the spirit of technique and its focus on absolute efficiency driving every decision. In the other we see individual techniques and technologies used. Yet at times the most efficient approach is intentionally not taken because it conflicts with the overall goal of seeking to farm in a way that follows nature and leads to good relationships between the farmer and his neighbors and to health for all involved.

Pollan does an excellent job of not demonizing individual actors in the industrial food system. Although he does not present a conspiracy theory, the alienating elements are so strong and effective that at one point I thought: it is as if you asked a commission to make changes to our agricultural food system so that it would ruin our health, make us more oil dependent, damage the environment, and stress farmers in a myriad of ways including economic. There was, of course, no commission, but we do see these results.

As I read Pollan’s books I increasingly found myself reflecting on the biblical theme of the powers. What then does an ethic of freedom look like in relation to the food system today? Pollan provides information, concrete examples of alienation and freedom and he offers guidelines for consumers. A helpful start. We are called by Jesus Christ to go deeper and enabled by the cross and resurrection to do so.

 

Posted on September 9, 2016 .

The Power of Food

I stood nervously before the class. Had I gone too far this time? Sure, I had just given reasons why I had added the topic of food to the Discipleship and Ethics course, but I wondered if they were convincing. Did even I really think they were true, or was I grasping for reasons?

I assumed that most of the students were thinking, “Ok Mark, fine for you to be excited about this topic, but why are you forcing it on the rest of us?”

The previous summer my daughter Julia had recommended I read Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma. He led me to think about food and our food system in new ways. As I read, my conviction grew: things must change.

Filled with passion I decided, “we are going to talk about this in class.” My passion and conviction had only increased as I read other authors in preparation for the class. But now I stood insecurely in front of the class.

I told students that the topic of food and food production would provide a great way to review and explore in more depth other themes from the semester. Good words, but the reality was that I had not started the class planning by asking: “what would be a good topic to use for that purpose?” Rather I had asked, “How can I justify giving two class sessions to this food topic?” Then I thought of the idea of using it to review other themes. Was it true, or a flimsy justification?

As the students did their reading I asked them to:

Take note of how the following themes are evident; how do you better understand these themes through the lens of this issue and how do you better understand the food issue through the lens of these themes?

  • Principalities and powers
  • Technique
  • Mammon
  • Consumerism
  • Television/Internet

It worked. They saw what I had seen and more. It provided a way to review and deepen.

He made some comments about healthier food—the sort of thing I had expected. But mostly he reflected on relationship and the way family dynamics changed, positively, through their eating together.

Even more significantly, however, was how, through students’ reflections, I realized that the significance and breadth of the topic were much greater than I had imagined. I remember the moment. I was reading a student’s reflection about how that week his family, rather than grabbing fast food, committed to make all their suppers and eat them together at the table. He made some comments about healthier food—the sort of thing I had expected. But mostly he reflected on relationship and the way family dynamics changed, positively, through their eating together.

I leaned back and said, “Wow, I did not imagine that coming from this class session.” That was just one of many responses that I had not imagined when I added it to the course. The justification I had given for adding it to the course was true--not flimsy at all. The nervousness and insecurity were a one-time experience—only occurring the first time I did the class. I now start that class session with confidence of its broad relevance and value.

I will copy below the action-reflection assignment that produced the above experience. Some of you have done this, most have not. I encourage all of you to do it this week—again or for the first time. Use the comment feature to share your reflections.

The action part of the assignment is to do something different than your normal routine in relation to food. This is very open ended. Some possibilities include: shop at a farmers’ market, prepare meals at home, get a trial CSA box for one week and prepare meals based on what is in it, visit a farm and discuss issues that have come up in this class, invite others to join you for a meal, have a meal be part of a Bible study or other church event, plant some vegetables, volunteer at a food bank, avoid fast food for the week, eat together as a family, etc. (you may already do some of these things, the idea is to do something that you do not normally do). Come to class prepared to report on what you did and reflect on what you observed and learned through the experience.

 

Posted on September 8, 2016 .

Re-Orientation

In this political season in the United States we have observed people bend the truth, lie, change their positions, and abandon former allies--all in calculated ways to obtain or keep their positions of power. And this is not limited just to positions of national prominence. Two years ago my friend Robb Davis was elected to the city council of a city of less than 70,000. At a recent conference on Jacques Ellul Robb shared how Ellul’s writing on ends and means has influenced him. He told me, “I must re-orient regularly. I so easily get pulled off the way of Jesus.” For instance, he is a strong advocate of restorative justice. He is regularly urged explicitly, or feels an internal pull, to do more to increase people’s allegiance to him and thus increase his level of power so he can more easily enact programs using restorative justice. Two things can occur. First, he can use the positive end, restorative justice, to justify means inconsistent with the way of Jesus. Second, with increased emphasis on the means to achieve power, eventually the original end of implementing the practice of restorative justice can get lost. Achieving power becomes the true end—even if not the acknowledged one.

With increased emphasis on the means to achieve power, eventually the original end of implementing the practice of restorative justice can get lost. Achieving power becomes the true end—even if not the acknowledged one.

It is true that the political realm may be especially challenging, but I think we all could benefit from following Robb’s example of re-orientation. I have been reflecting on how and why it is needed in my life—in two different ways.

The first is the same sort of twisting of ends and means that Robb describes. Here are a few examples. Most of my life I have worked for Christian non-profit organizations that depend on donations to carry out their mission. Money, fundraising, is a means, but I have seen churches and organizations get off track in both of the ways Robb described. They have compromised their values in order to get (or not lose) donations. In some cases obtaining donations becomes the true end of the organization in the sense that it drives what they do. Generally, people in the organization are not consciously aware of this shift, and, in fact, it is not as clear as the previous sentences imply. There is a continuum, and the shift from money as an appropriate means to money as a distorted end is subtle. For that reason, the regular evaluation and re-orientation that Robb calls for is necessary.

As an author, I observe the dynamic Robb describes. There was certainly some amount of ego involved in writing my books, especially the first. But mostly it was not about me. I did not write books about the atonement as a means of making Mark Baker famous. I wrote in order to contribute to paradigm change in relation to the atonement. But an author with higher stature, more notoriety, will lead to more people buying and reading the book. So, for instance, I was glad to receive an invitation to speak at a national study conference of the Brethren in Christ Church in Canada. I assumed it would help sell more books—spread the word.  Last year I improved my website. I tell myself that the reason I did that (and the reason I just included the link) is to promote my writings—contribute to paradigm change in the way of Jesus. But these things can easily become about promoting me. Regular re-orientation, taking an honest look at means, is important and necessary.

What are ways that means and ends can get confused in your life? What things pull you off track? How might you practice re-orientation?

I have written a big ‘why?’ at the top of my daily prayer/reflection guide. I reflect on the day ahead and, with Jesus in mind, I ask ‘Why am I doing what I am doing?’

A second way of re-orientation needed in my life differs from what Robb describes. It is not so much that means pull me away from the true end and I get off course. Rather I have been doing the same things for so long I stop thinking about the end. I am on auto-pilot. I teach classes because it is my job; I preach a sermon because I was invited to; I offer guidance to students because they are my advisees; I raise money for projects in Latin America because I have done so for decades; I work on a book manuscript because I committed myself to the project a few years ago; I write a blog like this one because we committed to doing so monthly, etc. I am not saying I do all this with no sense of mission—pure obligation no passion. Rather my point is that I have not generally started my days reflecting on the coherence between what I am doing and the way of Jesus. The things I do in a day are good things; unlike the examples in the previous section, relatively speaking, I am on course. Yet, re-orientation is beneficial. I have written a big “why?” at the top of my daily prayer/reflection guide. It reminds me to reflect on the day ahead and, with Jesus in mind, I ask “Why am I doing what I am doing?” Asking the question has not led to significant changes in my days in terms of what I do, but it has changed how I have done them. It has surprised me what happens, for instance, when I think ahead to a meeting I have with a student and ask the “why?” question. Things come to mind to talk about that would not have if I had remained on auto-pilot. It has rarely changed the content in the class I have that day, but it has changed my posture and passion toward the class—which in the end probably does impact the content even if I use the same notes I used last time.

Re-aligning with the way of Jesus is fundamentally good news—better for us as individuals and better for the world. When I re-orient I feel more alive, more engaged. I invite you to join me in more intentionally practicing a discipline of looking at our lives and re-orienting them toward Jesus our center.

 

Posted on August 11, 2016 .