Adventures of an armchair activist: Gratitude, generosity and greed

One of my greatest pleasures at the moment is to spend an hour each morning in quiet contemplation, gazing out of the window. It is the height of summer and the garden at Breathing Space is flourishing. The bees buzz busily among the flower heads; the tall grasses wave their heads in the morning sun (or glisten in the gently falling rain); the raspberries and blueberries are starting to take over from the strawberries and currants to give us our breakfast fruit; everything is lush, vibrant and green.

Building Barns

It was in the midst of all this abundance and generosity that I read, the other day, the hard-hitting parable of the barn builder:

The farm of a certain rich man produced a terrific crop. He talked to himself: ‘What can I do? My barn isn’t big enough for this harvest.’ Then he said, ‘Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I’ll gather in all my grain and goods, and I’ll say to myself, Self, you’ve done well! You’ve got it made and can now retire. Take it easy and have the time of your life!’

Just then God showed up and said, ‘Fool! Tonight you die. And your barnful of goods – who gets it?’

(Luke 12: 13-21 The Message)

When I took early retirement I thought we might need to do some very careful budgeting to live on a much lower income. In fact, Lois and I have found ourselves in the strange position of having far more than we either need or want. My financial adviser will tell me that I have to invest wisely to get a good return, to set aside contingencies for the future, and to ensure I pass on a good inheritance to my children. But all of that seems rather hollow: self-congratulatory; resting on my laurels and my well-endowed profession; dominated by excessive comforts; and adding to the already gross inequalities in our society.

It seems to me that the counters to the consumerism, self-absorption and sense of entitlement that seem to dominate our culture are gratitude and generosity: gratitude for all that we have, for the simple things in life, for the goodness and beauty that is all around us; and generosity with what we have been given – learning to share and to bless others as we have been blessed.

Learning to live with gratitude and generosity

So how do we live with gratitude and generosity in a culture of entitlement?

As with so much, we can only ‘make the road by walking’. So here are some of the things we are exploring:

Getting close to nature. Lois and I are blessed through where we live – being able to enjoy the garden at Breathing Space and to share it with others; spending time working with the soil and the plants; putting out food for the birds and creating havens for wildlife; going for walks in the countryside around us.
The ‘prayer of examen’. We often end each day by each reflecting on the two or three things for which we are most grateful in that day. It generally isn’t hard: even when one of us has had a bad day, there is usually something we can find for which we can give thanks.
Living simply and within our means. I recognise that we are wealthy and privileged, and not everyone will be in the same place. For us, though, it is fairly easy to live within our means; it is less easy to resist the constant drive to acquire more things, to get the latest gadget, or to treat as essentials what are really luxuries.
Enjoying treats and celebrations. We do try to make a point of taking opportunities to celebrate and to enjoy special treats: going to the theatre; relaxing with a nice glass of wine; having a special meal with family or friends… We have been blessed, and I don’t want to spend my life feeling guilty about that, but rather to be grateful, enjoy the blessings we have, and share them generously with others.

I am reminded of the story of the pious woman, who lived a life of austerity and spent her life in constant service of others. Arriving at the gates of heaven, God met with her and asked her just one question: ‘Did you enjoy the world I made for you?’

Conspiring to bless others. We came across this wonderful phrase in one of Brian McLaren’s books. I love the idea of looking for ways to bless other people – whether through gifts or little acts of service. We try to give generously, recognising that we could do more. We have been blessed with the generosity and support that others have shown to us, at different points in our lives, both individually and now through Breathing Space. Now, at this stage of our lives, we have both money and time and want to use those to bless other individuals and causes.
Supporting charities that promote justice, compassion, and care for creation. It is always hard to choose which charities to support – with money or time. There are so many out there – all good causes. We have tended to look for smaller, local charities that are clearly making a difference: ones that are involved in supporting vulnerable families and individuals; ones that are addressing deep-seated problems such as homelessness and poverty; ones that are working for our environment; and ones that are engaging with local communities in less wealthy areas of the world.
Investing ethically. One of our biggest challenges is deciding what to do with the extra capital that we have. We don’t want to just be sucked into the trap of feeling we need to insure ourselves against any possible bad-outcome scenario; nor do we want to buy into a system that ultimately just benefits those who are already wealthy. So we have opted for ethical banking through Triodos, and we are exploring the possibility of partnering with Hope into Action – a charity that provides affordable housing for vulnerable people, linked in with support from local church communities. Someone once said that the process of discernment is not so much about choosing between good and bad options, but about choosing between different good options. So there will be those who promote investing wisely for a high return with which we can then be more generous in our giving; others who take the opposite view of ‘sell all you have and give to the poor’. Perhaps we can find a middle way, which stems from both gratitude and generosity.

April 29, 2019

Adventures of an armchair activist (a reluctant radical)

For the past 20-30 years I have had the privilege of knowing some amazing people who are living out incredible, radical lives: people who have actively campaigned for social justice, human rights, disarmament, or care for our planet; people who have been criticised, vilified, and arrested for doing what is right; people who have chosen to live in deprived urban communities; people who have given of themselves to serve others, who have welcomed homeless people, ex-offenders and addicts into their homes; people who have chosen to buck the trends of our culture and live simply and sustainably, or in community.

So, surrounded by dynamic, inspiring radicals, I have tried to emulate some of this in my own small way. The principles these people stand for are all principles I want to uphold. I long for justice for all, an end to the inequalities and oppression of our culture; I long for peace and non-violent approaches to tackling divisions; I long for a world where we do not exploit the earth or its inhabitants; I long for a society where those who are most vulnerable are protected and cared for.

A reluctant radical

And yet, for all my aspirations, far too often, I seem to end up frustrated, or half-hearted in my attempts to live out my beliefs. I try to live a life of simplicity, but love my comforts too much. I try to travel sustainably, but find myself too tied to my car. I try to stand up for justice, but just don’t seem to find the time to get properly involved. I try to show compassion and care for the vulnerable, but sometimes it just seems too exhausting. I try to shop ethically, but can’t seem to get round those corporate giants. For all I may decry this injustice and exploitation, I keep coming back to the reality that I am one of the privileged elite – a well-educated, wealthy, white, able-bodied westerner. And as such I have to acknowledge that, far from bringing solutions to all of this, I, too, am part of the problem.

I suspect I’m not alone in this.

How then shall we live?

But rather than give up, thinking it is all too difficult, I thought it might be good to explore what we can do: to consider the little steps we can take that might just make a difference; to share some of the steps Lois and I have taken, and those we’ve struggled with; to commit to dipping our toes in the water just a little bit more; and to invite others, too, to share your experiences as armchair activists, or reluctant radicals.

In a world where consumerism seems to rule, where injustice is rampant, in which our planet is being ruthlessly exploited, it must be possible to live ethically.

So I will try posting a few blogs and see where that goes. And if you’d like to join in the conversation, please do add your thoughts.

October 30, 2016October 30, 2016

Camino reflections: Portuguese hospitality

The taxi driver assured us he knew the way to Mosteiró and the start of our Camino.

Leaving the airport, we passed through the inevitable industrial estates on the outskirts of Porto, then on through increasingly rural spaces: small fields of maize dotted between the warehouses and factories, until finally we were bumping over cobbled streets through elderly Portuguese villages.

Eventually he abandoned us on a quiet street corner and pointed to a run-down café on the other side of the road, confidently telling us that this was Mosteiró. There was no sign of the Camino; no friendly yellow arrows pointing us towards Santiago de Compostela. Just a silent Portuguese street, miles from anywhere.

In the café a few elderly men were passing the time of day over tiny cups of sweet, black coffee. We asked if this was Mosteiró, where the start of the Camino was, and whether we could get a sandwich or a bowl of soup to start us on our way.

After eyeing us up and down, one of the men volunteered that this was not Mosteiró, that we would find the Camino a few kilometres back down the road on which we had just come, and that the café sold coffee only, and no food.

Then, recognising our disheartened faces, he broke into a smile, bundled us into tiny car, our backpacks and walking poles crammed into the boot, and drove us back to Mosteiró and the start of our Camino. He dropped us by a warm and friendly café where hordes of farm labourers were tucking into bowls of soup, washed down by carafes of vinho tinto, and pointed out the bright yellow arrows that would set us, refreshed and energised, on our way.

That simple, generous hospitality to strangers was a feature of our Camino: from the owners of the Albergues and Casas who welcomed us into their homes; the elderly couple who plied us with green figs they had just been picking from their tree; the two old men who daily came down to a river to feed the ducks; the friendly gestures of people we met on the way; and the cheerful waves and ‘Bon Camino’s that greeted us as we tramped our way.

Portugal is not a wealthy country, and much of the area we walked through seemed caught in a previous century.

Perhaps, though, the very presence of pilgrims, walking those paths over so many centuries, has endowed the culture with a sense of hospitality: to welcome the pilgrim and the stranger.

October 16, 2016

Pilgrim: Walking the Camino Portugués

Eight days, 103 kilometres. Four pilgrims.

A pause in the busyness and emotions of life.

To walk the Portuguese Camino from Porto to Valença has been a wonderful experience. Returning home to ordinary life and a busy few months ahead, it has been good to reflect on what was it that made it so special. Was this truly a pilgrimage (we never intended to go all the way to Santiago de Compostela), or just a gentle walk in the Portuguese countryside? If it was a pilgrimage, what was its significance?

Pilgrimage: The journeying of a pilgrim: a journey to a shrine or other holy place

Chambers Dictionary

Perhaps I am a pilgrim, and remain a pilgrim, marked not just by the shell on my backpack, but in my everyday life as well.

Pilgrim: A wanderer, wayfarer: one who travels to a distance to visit a holy place: allegorically or spiritually, one journeying through life as a stranger in this world

Chambers Dictionary

The Camino, for me, was significant, not so much in the destination, but in the journeying itself, and the incompleteness of it. And while there was a physical aspect to it – located in a particular time and place, walking part way along the Camino towards Santiago de Compostela – it also represented a pause in that bigger pilgrimage of life. The very act of walking created stillness and presence. So I was able to lay aside the emotions and the busyness of life, neither to linger in the past nor to rush forward to the future, but simply to be present, in the present, walking – with Lois, with my parents, with our God. To appreciate beauty, stillness, silence, simplicity.

‘Petrus, on the other hand, argued that the guiding concept along the Road to Santiago was its simplicity. That the Road was one along which any person could walk, that its significance could be understood by even the least sophisticated person, and that, in fact, only such a road as that could lead to God.’

Paulo Coelho, The Pilgrimage, p52

March 29, 2015March 13, 2015

Go simply in your spirit

Holy Week.

The excitement of Palm Sunday and Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem

The culmination of three years of journeying

The perplexity of those last days

The anguished grief of Good Friday

The empty waiting…

We journey this week with some of the women who had accompanied Jesus over those three years, and who stayed with him to the very end.

Can we learn from them a simplicity of spirit that will stay with us, whatever life may bring?

Click here to go to this week’s meditations

March 15, 2015March 1, 2015

Go simply with your culture

Tomorrow is the start of the fifth week of Lent.

Our prayer this week is that we may hear our heart’s truth.

Can we live within our culture yet challenge it?

Can we learn from Nicodemus, the Pharisee, who came to Jesus in the dead of night?

Click here to go to this week’s meditations

February 7, 2015February 16, 2015

Go Simply: Reflections for Lent

A series of Lenten reflections to attend to our doing and being, the active and contemplative

Traditionally, there are 40 days of Lent, from Ash Wednesday to Holy Saturday (not counting the Sundays of Lent), which means February 18 to April 4 in 2015. Starting from Ash Wednesday, 18th February, we will be posting a series of reflections for the seven weeks of Lent. Each week explores a different aspect of simplicity, and focuses on someone, or some people who featured in Jesus’ life.

These reflections take the form of a simple liturgy for the week, with five readings to help you be still in God’s presence: to pause; to listen; to be.

The seven weeks

Week One: Go simply in your belief – Thomas’ Journey

Week Two: Go simply with your possessions – Judas’ Journey

Week Three: Go simply with yourself – Mary Magdalene’s Journey

Week Four: Go simply in your lifestyle – With the Bethany Family, Mary, Martha and Lazarus

Week Five: Go simply within your culture – Nicodemus’ Journey

Week Six: Go simply in your vocation – With Mary, Jesus’ Mother

Week Seven: Go simply in your spirit – With Joanna and the women who accompanied Jesus