“Even if you are living where your forefathers have lived for generations, you can bet that the smartphone you gave your child will unmoor them more effectively than any bulldozer could." (Kingsnorth, Against the Machine)

The sort of central point—at least in the early parts of this book—is that we have all become uprooted by The Machine, a sort of loose term for the global crisis that has severed us from tradition, culture, nature, community, ourselves, etc... It is driven by the global economy and although it was created by the West we can see it being furthered by States all around the world.

We have all been uprooted.

"Meanwhile, out in what is fondly called ‘the real world’ by people who often don’t know very much about reality, you are living in a metastasizing machine which is closing in around you, polluting your skies and your woods and your past and your imagination... Most of the things you like are fading away. The great forests and the stories made in and by them. The strange cultures spanning centuries of time. The little pubs and the curious uninhabited places. The thrumming temples and dark marshlands and crooked villages and folk tales and conviviality and spontaneous song and old houses which might have witches in them. The possibility of dragons. The empty beaches and wild hilltops, the change of getting lost in the rain forever or discovering something that was never on any map. A world without maps, a world without engines."

Picked up 'Against the Machine' by Paul Kingsnorth at the library the other day. This part in the introduction leaped out at me.

Most of the things you like are fading away.

“Many modern Christians have unfortunately understood injustice in simply materialistic terms and have not recognized the need to ‘convert’ people from the spirituality that binds them to a particular material expression of power. It is not enough merely to change social structures. People are not simply determined by the material forces that impinge on them. They are also the victims of the very spirituality that the material means of production and socialization have fostered, even as these material means are themselves the spin-off of a particular spirituality.” (Wink, Naming the Powers)

I remember a mentor of mine who had spent a good part of his life working among people afflicted by poverty telling me that the poor are inherently spiritual. This was, according him, a failure in understanding by many of the attempts of philanthropy from 'secular' organizations who saw poverty as only a material problem—solved easily with money.

Wink's point here is that the Christian tradition has a vocabulary to help. A way of talking about evil in both structural and spiritual ways. It's not about explaining things, it's about that awareness that power has both an inner and an outer reality and we need a way to confront both.

Dorothee Sölle wrote about how the Church can learn to recognize the powers. It begins with listening and seeing and feeling. We look at a given context and ask ourselves a couple questions. First, who is being victimized? And then, to understand the cause, we ask who profits? It is in learning to see this dynamic at work that the Church can learn to see where their work is needed.

Continuing with a bit of an Advent theme, I'm currently (re)reading Walter Wink's trilogy on the Powers. My interest is to keep expanding on the idea that Christianity is primarily a socio-economic project. A few years back I was going to write a thesis as the final part of my masters exploring spiritual warfare through a similar lens. This was mainly going to be using the work of William Stringfellow but then my professor told me Wink would be essential for this. Ultimately this thesis project was scrapped due to some timing complications; but instead I concluded with two shorter research projects that I think do a good job of working through what I was thinking about at the time (here and here).

Anyway, as a part of this Advent and Christmas season, I have decided to go back to some of that and draw out some reflections on what it means for the Kingdom to be breaking in as it relates to the idea of power in our world. Wink's core argument is that modern readers have failed to understand the mythic descriptions of the Powers on their own terms.

“The goal is not ‘demythologizing’ if by that is meant removal of the mythic dimension, but rather juxtaposing the ancient myth with the emerging postmodern (mythic) worldview and asking how they might mutually illuminate each other.”

So expect a few notes here for the next couple weeks on this topic as I work out a bit of what is on my mind this season.

One of my favourite Advent passages comes from Luke chapter 3. It actually might be one of my favourite passages regardless of the season. It's about the work of John the Baptizer in the lead up (advent) to Jesus. He is telling the crowds who are following him about the coming salvation and judgement of God. The people ask him—and this is where the advent of it all comes in—what should we do while we wait and prepare for this?

What then should we do while we wait?

I really think that this is the perfect question for Advent. If Christmas is about the arrival of the Kingdom, Advent is about taking a beat and getting ready. I've heard it described as active waiting. Rather than jumping straight into celebration, there's this season of preparation. It's like having guests over for a big holiday party; there's so many things you need to do before they arrive. Advent is the church's season of house cleaning and meal prep.

But back to the main question: what are we supposed to do to get ready? John's answer—and, quite frankly, I love this—is socio-economic.

In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." He said to [the tax collectors], "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." He said [to the soldiers], "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."

What I appreciate here is that there really is no way to 'spiritualize' this away from its very real economic implications. It's also a vision for a society that would have radically upended the Roman Empire. If you have extra, share it with someone in need. If you are part of the machine itself that extracts wealth from its citizens, do so in a way that is fair, nonviolent, and non exploitative. Imagine such a thing.

Christmas has, in so many ways, become a celebration of indulgence and excess. [cue a Charlie Brown Christmas] I'm not trying to be all curmudgeonly here, I enjoy giving gifts and having elaborate meals during this time as much as anyone; but I think the value of Advent is that it calls us back to this idea that there is still much work to be done in order to get ready. And that work is not accomplished by going to more church services, having the biggest nativity scene on your lawn, or fighting about corporations saying happy holidays. It's found in a vision of upending an unjust and oppressive socio-economic system that dehumanizes its labourers and worships capital. It's in recognizing that the extra that we have we are not entitled to, but that it should be shared with those who have far less. It's in gratitude and generosity and solidarity with the poor.

Advent is ultimately a reminder that the world isn't as it should be and we shouldn't be okay with how it is.