Reflections on Suburbia

I was in a meeting last week downtown with the ministers from Downtown Church. We were planning a national conference for church planters in the EPC, but as usual our talk digressed into talking about urban vs. suburban living. I confess, I used to feel a bit inferior when talking about living in suburbia. We are conditioned by media, and even church planters, to believe that the real stuff of life is in the urban settings, as if it’s a foregone conclusion that in just a few short years we will all move back to the urban center. Folk are quick to point out that the suburbs are placeless things, “anywhere USA,” “soul-less” and propped up by people fleeing life into a wasteland of comfort and affluence. There was even a book written not long ago called Death by Suburbs. Suburbia is just not supposed to be good for your soul!I don’t feel that way anymore. Every geography and place has its own temptations and sins. Every place is a “wasteland” because sin is present; and ever since we were expelled from the garden, we have been looking for home. As Ashley Hales says in her book Finding Holy in the Suburbs, “Each place fashions what we value. Places form our loves… each suburb in its own way evangelizes for the good life: a life of safety, beauty, comfort, and ease.” But the good news is that, as we come to grips with the sins particular to our own place, God said that no matter where you live, we are still to be about the same thing: “Building homes in Babylon.” Sin finds different expressions in different places because in the heart of each of us is an insatiable hunger to stuff our inner emptiness with anything but God. Our place in the world is quick to fill our need for security, safety, comfort, and identity with the trappings of the good life, while at the end of the day leaving us even more empty. And often we can’t figure out why we feel so empty. It is a fact that we do enjoy more safety, security and comfort in suburbia than most people in the world. And yet, is that really the goal of a life well lived? Even in the suburbs, the stories that move us are about adventure! Bilbo and Frodo leaving the safety of the Shire is a story we can’t get over. It is a better story! Why? Because God built us for adventure. He built us to be useful. He built us with desires to leverage our gifts and talents for something greater than our own comfort. And so, how do we break out of our comfort zones and step into the larger world of Jesus’ kingdom? How do we get on Jesus’ mission to be part of the restoration? This takes a huge toll on our children. In her book, Hales notes, “Humans are fearful, and when we have material advantages, it’s easy to think it’s our job to protect ourselves and our families in every possible way.” Teri told me, as we were pondering our own comfortable life, “I think it is because we have so much to lose, that we don’t risk more.” I have thought about that a lot, and I think she is right. But is the abundant life Jesus promised to all who follow him really found in resting in our 401(k), our busyness, and material comfort? The Psalmist tells us that God is our dwelling place, he is our comfort, and Jesus really is the good Shepherd. Jesus, as our good Shepherd, never said, “Come and follow me, and I will keep you safe.” No, Jesus said, “Come and die, and you will find real life.” Jesus’ promise was never one of safety; it was one of security. Jesus did say to his disciples that he would never leave or forsake them. What might happen if we really believed that? Really believed that our true security is in the living and dying of Jesus? Maybe it would actually free us to open our hearts and homes to really spend our lives on others, particularly those who have no power, no voice, and no hope.Maybe the first step for us is to unclutter our lives long enough to listen to God. One thing I have learned as I grow older is that “less is more.” If you are always striving for more, packing time and closets with stuff, you can’t ever really enjoy anything. I am convinced we can so pack our time with “doing,” there is no time for “being.” If I am so busy I can’t linger in the presence of God––to let his friendship and love wash over me, clean me, and re-orient me––my identity will always be found in what I produce, not in who I am as one whom God is rather fond of! The great paradox of the Scriptures is the cross. It is the center of both our salvation and our sanctification. The cross tells us that we have to die to live. We have to give to receive. We have to lose our life to find our life. That requires a life of faith, a life built on listening and practicing scripture, while closing our ears to the siren call of the suburbs. It requires emptying ourselves so we can be filled, and it means constantly denying ourselves lesser joys for greater joys. Seriously, do we really want to be spectators to Bilbo and Frodo from the safety our living rooms, or do we want to be on a journey of faith that who knows where it will lead? I honestly believe God will use the resources of the suburbs to play a great part in healing many of the broken places in the world. I mean, “To whom much is given…” But to break the hold of suburbia on our souls we have to be willing to listen to God speak and take small steps of faith. Listen and pray. God will hear you and show you. Even if he has to trick you! And you will be glad he did. If he takes away some of your comfort, he will give it back to you tenfold in the satisfaction of being wrung out for the kingdom. What could be better!