Servant Song - Spring 2007 admin on 17 May 2007
Living a Harmless Life
By Brayton Shanley
Most of us watch war from the sidelines. Of the billions of humans who have lived over hundreds of thousands of years, a vast majority has never been directly engaged in taking another’s life. Some of these bystanders are serious observers, as warfare is, after all, a dark fascination, a kill or be killed drama that runs the entire course of history. Poems have been written and endless movies have been watched chronicling the great battles of history’s great wars. Tolstoy, a veteran of the military, wrote: ‘War has always interested me, not war in the sense of maneuvers devised by great generals, but the reality of war, the actual killing’and under the influence of what feelings one soldier kills another.’
If we keep the power of observation going, we can also ask just what creates the climate that makes war so consistently possible and who puts the soldiers up to the killing that so struck Tolstoy. The ‘good wars’ in history were fought to protect the homeland. Yet, even those who thought they fought nobly had a curious word for their experience. Hell. This metaphor depicts the worst living nightmare of pain one could have in life. But in hell or out, fight and protect we must, and war continued to march through history. Then came the 20th Century Wars to End War. One hundred twenty million perished in that short 100 years, almost 60 million killed in World War II alone. This century of fear, in the grip of homicidal panic stretched across all of earth’s cultures. Then in 1959, after the bloodiest of all wars, came one of history’s greatest warnings. President Dwight Eisenhower a former general and war hero spoke with uncharacteristic passion about the dark cloud that hovered over the U.S. during the cold war–’The Military Industrial Complex.’ This juggernaut, consisting of the executive branch of government working in concert with the arms industry corporations and the military, was now leading the U.S. into a new, even more dangerous era. Warfare would not only be the necessary force protecting our national security, but also war itself, and the selling of weaponry, were becoming the most profitable of economic endeavors. The U.S. came out of World War I the world’s greatest economic and military power and solidified that power after leading the Allies in World War II.
Heading into the cold war, the U.S. discovered new rationales for warfare 1) protect our newfound wealth and political power 2) increase that wealth and power by selling arms to any nation, friend or foe, which could afford them. From the 1980’s until the present we have waged and won low intensity wars especially resource wars (i.e. oil). To err on the side of waging a war also helps field test and refine new weapons systems that posture our power world-wide, perfecting our ability to position ourselves as the worlds’ only superpower.
Two telling facts unearth the human engine that drives our wars: One, we are only 4% of the world’s population controlling 50% of the world’s resources and consuming 25% of the world’s available oil. This is the economic fact that makes us so good at war, and it is why we are so quick to go to war. Two, even when the moral case for war is a fabrication, as in Iraq, even when our chances of controlling the crossfire of wars of our making appears impossible, we act with the aggression of true believers, trusting our might will convince enemy nations to concede.
Material Things and War
Underneath these wars and rumors of wars (invading Iran’) is a climate that is conducive to hiring our generals and their soldiers to commit the unthinkable atrocity of war. The force that drives their madness is precisely the 4% that we represent in the world. Because we consume not 4% but 50% of the world’s resources we live more or less in a perpetual state of frenzy– getting, spending, keeping and protecting. Our addiction to this privilege, though irrational, ferociously directs the engines of economic global control-worldwide. One of the fears our political leaders play on so masterfully in privileged classes, is the fear the loss of material power that threatens our self-ordained entitlement to ‘climb and command’ the economic class ladder. For most Americans, to lose the competitive edge is tantamount to an annihilation of our birthright, the inherent right to control the global economy.
The advantage we prize so much is our unimpeded ability to consume. More is always better. This largely unconscious desire to ‘have’ speaks directly to our most human dilemma, the fact that we must buy and consume in order to survive. It is precisely in ‘buying things’ that we strengthen forces of addictive habit. We’ve developed a fierce pattern of living that looks to money to fulfill our deepest security needs.
The visionary economist E.F. Schumacher warns in Small is Beautiful: ‘The cultivation and expansion of needs is the antithesis of wisdom. It is also the antithesis of freedom and peace. Every increase of needs tends to increase our dependence on outside forces over which one cannot have control and therefore increases existential fear.’With this ‘faith’ in wealth, our self-understanding and the sense of safety that goes with it are now under the control of forces over which we have absolutely no control.
Why Money Owns Us
We as humans are tied into everything around us and are born into a particular way of interacting with each other. We simply are not born autonomous beings, learning life from scratch. We mimic what we see, and are therefore deeply conditioned by the mores and habits of the environment in which we grow. French Theologian Rene Girard writes in his seminal work Violence and the Sacred, ‘all the grown up voices around (us) beginning with those of the father and mother’ speak for the culture with the force of established authority exclaiming”imitate me’; I bear the secret of life of true being. The more attentive the child is to these seductive words, the more earnestly he/she responds to suggestions emanating from all sides’(However), the child possesses no perspective that will allow them to see things as they are.’ We have imitated the message ‘you are what you have.’ (P 147) Our entire selves are conditioned to value the consumption of goods over quality of relationships, and we imbibe this value from parents on forward into every walk of life. In our culture ‘the bottom line’ has become a metaphorical expression for what is ‘really important.’ The origin of the term of course refers to money; for in the end, you add up the numbers and either you have it or you do without.
The value of money is most visible in the economics of the family. How many people have told me over the past twenty years that a family can survive financially only if both parents work, full time if possible. Now couples can have children but must hire others to help raise them. A dominant clich’ of our post World War II world, ‘keeping up with the Joneses’ is precisely the economic treadmill that these families tread. Coveting our neighbors goods, a ten-commandment warning, is one of the central seductions that runs deep in the collective psyche in American culture. Girard speaks to this foundational drive to possess, naming it ‘mimetic (mimic) desire’ that propels all humans into perpetual rivalry. ‘The rival desires the same object as the subject (the dominant one in the rivalry); in desiring the object, the rival alerts the subject to the desirability of the object. Once (our) basic needs are satisfied, (we) are subject to intense desires though they may not be precisely known. ‘ The reason is that (we) desire ‘being’, that (the rival) him/herself lacks, and some other person seems to possess (the dominant one in the rivalry).’ The rival looks to the other to inform them of what they should acquire in order to have ”that’ being.’ And when the rivalry clashes over power and dominance, we have violence.
When find ourselves in desperate want of what someone else has, we look to fulfill our human striving, which will achieve this ‘true being’. The dominant one starts out on the pedestal but this rivalry often deteriorates into the law of the jungle. To seek desperately something outside us, we sacrifice our freedom to this contest and chase the object, which, in contemporary terms is money and the things money can buy.
In the frantic attempt to keep up with the Joneses, we follow, not a true calling to authentic being, but something separate and alien to deepest selves–wealth, possessions, status and eventually the violence that procures and protects it. This ultimately reveals a poor self-image, frustrated purpose, profound insecurity, and subservience to the dominant authority (the wealthy). It is not a great leap from frustrated subservience, to anxiety, to fighting for your life or your sense of self. Our inner lives can harbor these seeds of warrior violence. We express this with our aggressive patriotic rhetoric. We observe it in the bully pulpit of those who send the young off to war and in the zealous warriors themselves.
How to Live in This World
The Joneses are rugged individuals in a tightly bound and protected nuclear family. To stay in a rivalry with them, we urgently need work, not meaningful work necessarily, but work that pays the ever increasing bills. This attitude toward work can keep us in a perpetually unfulfilled state charging up the ladders of ’success.’ Driven to compete, we are propelled to ‘get and spend.’ But first, we must ‘get’ and work will make us the money.
In 1959 my sixth grade teacher told me ‘Brayton, by the time you are an adult, you will need a graduate degree just to get a job.’ Here in a microcosmic moment, we have the whole economic scenario forecasted. First, the elder teacher tells the child about life in the adult world and imparts to the student a most serious reality: resources in the future will be scarcer than the present. We know as competitors that not everyone will earn a graduate degree, so you, Brayton, better get one. This privilege will give you a chance not just to survive but also to stay competitive.
Our political contests play on this fear of scarcity. At some point in every campaign we hear the candidate plead, ‘Vote for me and I will bring you jobs.’ Money-driven security fears, the heart of rivalry, are so easily manipulated by politicians as they pitch ‘ a good economy is a growth economy with more and more jobs.’
The quality of work is never mentioned. Money here consistently overshadows meaning. The collective expression of this competitive pride is our sense of patriotism– ‘I live in a good, hard working prosperous country. We’ve earned this privileged status with good honest, hard work.’ There is however, always an unstated assumption about the world we live in. Not everyone can be this wealthy or has equal access to wealth. Therefore, undocumented immigrants are not welcome here competing for limited resources. This is more rivalry. What is never asked in the ‘job’ equation is ‘What does work do to the worker”
Schumacher often characterizes the fact that most jobs in an industrial society are uncreative, soul deadening, regimented ‘life sentences’ that resembles Dante’s lower levels of hell. He marveled that when he confronted almost anyone from any strata of English society with this stark reality of most work, no one ever challenged him. Therefore to be promised ‘jobs’ is to be promised meaningless ‘doing’ in the slavery of the assembly line. So many centuries of unchecked capitalism have deadened the human need for meaning. Work here, is a miserable hell where we sacrifice our freedom and happiness in exchange for economic security, a most bitter but necessary pill if we truly want to possess what others have and wish to measure our true being by our wants. Mammon then becomes the true yet tragic God. And the gods of war are always ready and willing to defend the god of money. ‘The seeds of war’ American Quaker John Woodman writes, ‘are nourished in our possessions.’ Our contemporary lifestyles are book ended: War is hell. Our jobs are hell.
Getting off the Treadmill
Jesus’ teaching on Divine Providence drives an wedge into the center of the question of security: ‘You cannot serve two masters God and money.’ You must choose one or the other. What we ‘worship’ makes the fruits of our lives visible. Jesus also has a very low opinion of worry about getting enough: ‘Therefore I tell you do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or drink, nor about your body what you shall wear, is not life more than food’ the body more than clothing’ (Matt 6: 24-34). This, the most counter- cultural of all Jesus’ teaching, can only be heard if we are aware of what forces have conditioned our thinking and behavior to this point, economic insecurity propelling us into a frenzy of hoarding and consumption.
Jesus’ gospel message doesn’t so much give us an economic program for simple living as it urges us to renounce the habitual worry about our own well being. What is his financial plan that replaces economic privilege where too much is never enough’ ‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all things (necessary) will be given unto you.’ Do not lay up treasures for yourself. Pour out your ‘wealth’ toward God.
If the Divine Plan were a gift of life for us to love, would that Divine Plan not include enough sustenance’ If ‘life’ is more than food and material possessions, then that same ‘life-force,’ and this teaching have a direct lifeline to the Eternal. In the effort to be faithful to this trust in Divine Providence, Jesus doesn’t disparage work. Work is among the most human and necessary endeavors. St. Paul draws the connection between the need to work so we can eat. That is the social contract. We contribute our labor, and the laborers deserve their wages (1 Tim 5:18).
The question here is how much work is too much work’ How much money is too much money’ Jesus instructs again: ‘Don’t worry about tomorrow’ (Matt 6:34). His teaching on economics is not so much ‘money is evil’, rather ‘don’t think so often about money,’ don’t hoard it for tomorrow, don’t make wealth an anxious rivalry, and this will free you up to serve the urgent needs of those in your midst today.
Here at Agape, this teaching has helped us to remain focused on ministry to others, not just to fret about revenue into the community. Reaching out to poor families in town, relating to those in prison, protesting war, offering hospitality, and raising children, all are efforts representing money spent, yet they remain the heartbeat of community life.
The idol of livelihood threatens the art of living.
Because work has also threatened worship, we at Agape look to the tradition of Sabbath as a way of slowing down the modern obsession to keep the engines of commerce in perpetual grind. Our Sabbath practice runs from mid Saturday to Monday morning during which time, we pull the plug on being busy and seek to ride on top of time–no work, planning work or even discussion of what needs to be done Monday morning. In this Sabbath mood we learn to live on less and less and feel more and more grateful and begin to practice the art of trading in our money for time. Is there any better wealth than life’ May this celebration of ’simply living’ truly end the need for all war for all time.