The Low Rung of the Ladder, Camels, Needles, and Other Eschatological Meanderings.

I'm a little worked up right now. I haven't allowed myself to be worked up enough to write a new blog post until now. So I'll seize it while I can! I suspect it will come out more frankly than it might normally because I've allowed it to build up for a while now.

Here's my most recent though. I've been thinking about what I desire in my life, specifically what I think holds meaning for the ultimate ethic (an idea I nabbed from an author named Webb). In my dream life as it relates to the ultimate ethic, or the Kingdom ethic (which is probably more of a loaded statement, but really means the same thing), here's what I envision.

1) To live life alongside the poor, the disinherited, and the rejected. There are ways to stratify this to each rung of the ladder of success. But I'm talking about the low-rung. The rung that people climbing the ladder skip because they don't even need it to step up. The rung that is slippery and grimey. The rung that they are afraid to step on because they are afraid the "scum" on it will make them slip off and break a foot on the fall.

Jesus said, “Therefore I tell you that the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people who will produce its fruit. He who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces, but he on whom it falls will be crushed.”

I hope to find myself on the lowest rung because that's where I find Jesus.

In a practical sense, this means living at a lower standard of living. This means living in neighborhoods that most people think of as "dirty" and "dangerous". The kind that they "wouldn't want to raise a family in". The kind that they do service to once in a while before eventually returning to their homes away from it all.

My biggest issue with that is the feeling of isolation that almost necessarily accompanies it. Which leads to the second point of what I envision in the ultimate ethic, the Kingdom ethic.

2) To live in community - real, authentic community. Fair or not, I feel that living on the lowest rung would exclude me from the majority of community life in many (though not all) of the churches I grew up in and have gone to. I have seen intentional Christian communities that get the idea of living community right. Reba Place Fellowship in Evanston, IL is an incredible example. They live life in a way that is beautiful and stunning and life-altering.

I would love to see a marriage of these two principles. I think the lowest rung is where we find Jesus. He is in community with members of various social stratospheres, but he dines with those on the lowest rung. Sometimes providing physical needs, but just as often being their guest. And not because he imagines he is doing them a favor by doing so. Just because he wants to be with them. And apparently they wanted to invite him.

In the end, I don't think that the rich are excluded from the Kingdom because they can't fit through the narrow opening to it. I think it's because those who are rich don't truly want to be a part of that Kingdom. They don't know how to view themselves or their world without their privilege and inheritance defining it for them. Their riches tell them who to be and they use their riches to become it.

I don't exclude myself from the "rich". Despite being unemployed, unattached, and all of that jazz, I am privileged.

I was convicted the other day, thinking about the videogames I have enjoyed playing (which are a luxury that may be okay to have, but a luxury nonetheless). Among the top of the list are Animal Crossing (for the Nintendo Game Cube) and The Sims (for the CPU). I thought about why those games are fun. They are fun because of the idea of self-improvement. You can earn the money you want (which takes a lot of work and effort) in order to revamp, renovate, and redesign your entire lifestyle. You can build fancier things, which in The Sims actually increases your happiness meters, which makes it easier to earn money and to fund an even higher standard of living.

With Animal Crossing, it's all about decorating and redecorating.  At some point you have so many items that you can't keep them all within your household. But you want to be able to change things out at will. The only way you can manage that is to drop your items outside your house. You can drop them along the lawn or in some far away field or along the shore. It really doesn't matter. But at some point you begin to realize that the land has become cluttered and gross because of your accumulation. But you can't just sell or get rid of things because they are limited commodities.

I thought to myself how adept these games are at describing the consumeristic life I, and most of you reading this blog, have been able to live. Our "privilege" that allows us to climb up these rungs of the ladder has enslaved us. We don't know what's at the top of the ladder, nor do we care as long as there's a rung above us.

What if these games had no money? What if Animal Crossing and The Sims didn't have any means of trading or any means of accumulation? There would be no ladder to climb. I would send my Sims to the shower for no reason in particular. They shower so they can feel better so they can work so that they can get paid so that they can get more stuff so that they can be happier so that they can get a promotion at work so that they can be paid more so that... You get the idea. Animal Crossing is the same. At some point, the neighbors you have in the game, this cat, that cow, so-and-so boar... They all become means to an end. You stop conversing with them to converse. Who has the time for that? You communicate with them so that you can do them a favor in the hopes of making some cash or in order to make a good trade that benefits you.

Those games are nothing without money or the possibility for "advancement" (which is defined almost exclusively monetarily). I was convicted because I thought, "Real life is so much like those games. What would life be without money? What would even be my purpose for living?" I never knew how closely I identified with my privilege, my richness, my consumerism, until this question caused me to hesitate.

Could life have meaning on the "bottom rung"? People in the lowest rung know the value of money. They know they need it to survive, but they also know that it doesn't make life worth living. I have a lot to learn from them. I don't consider it a charity to want to live among the vulnerable. I consider it a need that many of us ought to examine carefully. Who is really needy in this scenario?

I'm painting quite a black and white picture. I live by extremes and values determine how I view myself and the world around me. Sometimes that paints a picture that's not entirely accurate. But it is honest and it is hopeful. I don't think it's as clear as I've laid it out.

I hope though, that this entry has provided you with questions that you have hesitated at. May we band together in honest humility, recognizing our brokenness and our desire of how and who we want to be. Would we find our identity in Jesus and would our identity reflect him and our Father in every way.

Amen.