Rocking the Suburbs

This year marks the beginning of my fifth year living in the Chicago suburbs. In that time, I have changed a lot. I do find it ironic that God brought me to graduate school in the suburbs to teach me about diversity, justice, and suffering. It just seems so bizarre.

What is evident to me, now, is that I am rather easily seduced into the standard of living that the suburbs provide. I enjoy the pedicures, shopping trips, and pervasive belief that my life is all about satisfying me. I want to believe that my life will be better, safer, and more enjoyable if I have that Crate and Barrel couch, a carefully designed home, and that down comforter.

Yes, money does indeed make life easier. I know this. I have not forgotten our early years here when my husband struggled to find full time work, piecing together low paying part time jobs to make the rent, as I worked three jobs while attending graduate school in order to be able to simply replace those items that wore out or we used up. I remember when we could not afford a $3.00 hamburger, so we left a 4th of July celebration to go buy cheaper food somewhere else. During those two years, a $3.50 gallon of gas would have killed us.

All of this comes to mind because I was having a conversation with a good friend from Tennessee. She has never left the state, and so our life here in the suburbs and close to Chicago looks beautifully alluring. The perfect yards, the huge park, the library nearby...it all makes where we live look incredibly idyllic. In lots of ways, it is. But my friend was shocked when she asked if I would ever want to live here following graduate school. My answer: "I don't say never. But the suburbs would be my last choice of a place to live and raise children."

She was shocked, taken aback. But, to me, the suburbs represent many lies. First, the lie is that having, buying, and consuming are the essence of life. It's all about buying a home, buying that car, buying that furniture, those clothes, that dog, and on and on. Bigger is better, and better is best. I just do not trust myself to be seduced into that way of living and thinking, were I to live here longterm. That's not to say that others cannot do it successfully. However, I see no way in which a Christian could reconcile embracing the values of a suburban culture with a vibrant faith in Christ. The focus on appearance, personal comfort, and consuming are antithetical to the message of Christ.

The next lie that the suburbs are built on is safety. Safety of the individual and his or her children and family. In the suburbs, we are safe from people who are not like "us," whoever "we" are. They are more homogenized by age, ethnicity, income, and value system. Okay, so my neighbors may be different from myself. But, in actuality, I have so many resources, I never need interact with them. I don't have to confront what I don't like about my church, because I can choose another one. I don't have to reconcile with that friend who I hurt/hurt me, because I won't see her unless I choose to take her calls/respond to her emails.

On a larger level, safety in the suburbs seems to apply to keeping one's children safe. Safe from crime, low SAT scores, and from becoming (gasp) less than "successful." Safe from suffering of any kind. Yet, the Christian faith is one of suffering. One of sacrifice to the good of others and the apparent detriment of self. This is a hard etic from which to live when your kids would have to give up an unimaginable amount of things to even invoke the slightest true sense of suffering. In the suburbs we build up 401ks and ROTH IRA's to protect ourselves for the future. We seek to alleviate the pangs of our discontent with medications, and by surrounding ourselves with people and things that tell us that we are "okay" enough, that we do not need to change.

This is an illusion, for tragedy and pain break through, and if not exposed in appropriate ways from a young age, our children will not know how to make meaning of the suffering in their lives, or in the lives of others. There is meaning in suffering in this fallen world, and the triumph of Christ is the redemption of all of the pain. When we protect ourselves and our children to avoid pain, hardship, and suffering to the point that we have no contact with suffering of small and large kinds on a daily basis, then we neuter the Gospel. For, if I have resources enough to bear most of life's bruises, why do I need Christ? Never mind, if we, as Christians do not see these things on a daily basis, why are we hiding ourselves from those who need so badly?

Finally, living in the suburbs is a way of life that consumes more than its fair share of resources. Living in the suburbs, I must drive everywhere. I do not have reliable public transport, and walking is a death wish. If the world lived as I do in the suburbs, consuming the resources I use (and I live much more frugally and cleanly than most of my peers), then we would need 4.5 worlds to support all 6 billion people. If I want there to be equity of resources for those who are truly suffering and in poverty, then I will need to sacrifice greatly of the resources that I have. I only have access to them because of my position of privilege, in the first place. So, I must sacrifice that privilege. Yet, the suburbs are configured in many ways that do not allow me to give up and sacrifice for others and still be able to meet basic needs. That sounds like crazy making, to me.

So, I do not find myself faithful enough to live in the suburbs and not be beckoned to living with a sense of entitlement that I would pass on to my children. Maybe you find yourself up to the job, and I hope some people do, because there is a great need for voices like that in the suburbs. But, my call is not here, and the way it binds my heart at times makes me feel like I might explode in order to get loose.

After I spoke of these things, my friend looked at me like I was crazy. Then she asked to go to Filene's Basement. I nodded, smiled, said, "Of course." But, it stung to know that my friend wouldn't really tell me how she felt about all I had just said. What about you? What do you think?