Dry Creek Chronicles

Letters to scattered family and friends


Notes on faithful presence

I occasionally mention faithful presence. It’s an idea I’ve encountered in the writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Jacques Ellul (and Dave Black for that matter). I haven’t yet gathered my thoughts on the topic enough to merit a full-scale post—it would probably take several, in fact—but while waiting on that I’d like to pass on a few notes.

To me, faithful presence is an anti-movement, or perhaps a way of thinking that helps me avoid attachments to movements. I don’t care much for the terms "biblical agrarianism" or "Christian agrarianism" because I think they unnecessarily spiritualize a certain way of life. I think agrarian society is very good, of a sort that is closely in tune with God’s creation, but it is not in any sense Christian. Agrarianism benefits all people, Christian or otherwise. A Christian is able to drink more deeply of the goodness of agrarian life—but a Christian is able to drink more deeply of the goodness in any way of life, being more in tune with the Source of the goodness.

More importantly, the goodness of agrarian society is found mostly in the "society" part—not just community, but the fact that all aspects of social life are agrarian-centered. This is far from true today, and no amount of wishing is going to change it. Worse, trying to live an agrarian life in a modern industrial society is a nearly insurmountable challenge; in any interaction with the non-agrarian world, an agrarian is at a major disadvantage. Industrial society is willing and able to take unfair advantage in ways not available to agrarians. I see no way to avoid this problem.

Our family tries to live with an agrarian mindset and with as many agrarian trappings as possible, not because we think that makes us more Christian but just because we think it is healthier than the alternative.

Simplicity goes deeper than agrarianism. I think it is possible to live simply in all circumstances, though some might present more challenges than others. My friend Laura Alderson and her family have done a pretty good job of living a simple life in Manhattan, and I expect them to deepen their simplicity even as they relocate to industrial Turin, Italy.

Our life is much simpler than that of nearly any of our friends or neighbors, even out here in rural Kentucky; we stay at home, spend nearly all our time together as a family, eat simple food, look for simple pleasures. The lives of our Mennonite and Amish neighbors are simpler in some ways, more complex in others.

We live simply, and therefore are different from the people around us. We are separate from their busyness and complexity, but not from them. Our separateness keeps us from adopting that busyness and complexity in our own lives.

We study these things and make conscious decisions to do what we do. But sometimes that deliberateness takes us in unexpected directions. For example, we have deliberately decided for a number of different reasons to move onto a much smaller property much closer to a large city, keeping some of the country trappings but giving up on the idea of raising food for a living.

A good way to describe our current approach to life is faithful presence. We try to live a faithful life in whatever circumstances we find ourselves, and to deal with everyone we meet in that way. We find simplicity a great aid in being able to live that way. But simplicity is not godliness, and godliness is not simplicity.

To me, when we accepted the call to faithful presence (long ago, and unknowingly), we chose to stop talking and studying about what a godly life is, and begin actually living one. Brothers and sisters are the Kingdom of God on earth, and we usher in the Kingdom to the extent that we live according to its precepts. We have learned in the living which precepts are vital and which are peripheral. And we have tried to do it peacefully and quietly, to avoid giving unnecessary offense.

Jesus said, "You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." (Matt. 5:13-16)

We are the salt that Jesus seasons the world with, the light He lit and placed on a stand, the town He built on a hill for all to see. When others see us living a faithful life, it leads them to glorify God. Our visible presence is what counts.

I think that this is our earthly purpose, to live faithfully by dying to self and devoting ourselves to the needs of others. That’s it. If we do that, God will use our example as He sees fit to extend His Kingdom.

Not only has this outlook helped us to separate the wheat from the chaff, it has deepened our love and understanding and forbearance for those who think differently from us. Living life deliberately is hard, period, no matter what path you take, and we ought to avoid placing any unnecessary burdens on the backs of our brothers and sisters in Christ. It isn’t right to shame people into the kingdom, and it isn’t necessary. An example of a life well lived is much more powerful than some theoretical discourse on how good life would be if only we would live a certain way.

A healthy amount of independence is required. Once you’ve learned to see life rightly, you are free to live life as you see fit, but others may not think so. Consequently, it is good to arrange your affairs so that you may operate freely while generating the least possible friction. If people don’t like hearing you talk about your ideas, don’t talk about them. If people think you are making an idol of your family, first be sure that you aren’t, and then proceed to ignore their opinion in the politest way you are able. If people think you aren’t sufficiently involved in the life of the church, look for polite ways to defuse their concern (e.g. you can’t afford the money, or the time, or you have other obligations) and learn to live with a certain amount of low opinion on their part.

The best defense in all circumstances is inner strength. Learn to evaluate these things for yourself, and then rest in the confidence that you reached your conclusions faithfully and honestly, and are open to further consideration of all these things. But don’t be afraid to reject the claims of others, as long as you have considered them faithfully and honestly. And be as kind and loving as you can in dealing with your differences. Go the extra mile if you need to. Your example will shine before a watching world.



One response to “Notes on faithful presence”

  1. Thank you for writing. I’m not quite sure how to comment, because all that I want to say is long string of emotions, histories, ideas and theories. A conversation, really. So I’ll just be glad for something to ponder, to talk over with my husband, and will look forward to reading more from you.

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