This was a first for me: I’ve read hundreds of books in my life, but I’ve never stopped a book halfway through and started back at the beginning. I was so struck by the significance of what I was reading.
So you could say that Jake Meador’s What Are Christians For? Life Together at the End of the World made a notable impact on me. My husband will probably secretly tell you he’s sick of me talking about it.
First, some background. Until 2020, I hadn’t lived in the United States as an adult for more than a few months at a time. So I’ve had a lot to catch up on these last couple of years. And now that I’ve figured out the basics, like which are the best deals at Costco, how to pay my water bill, and how to navigate media-streaming (okay, well, Gil still has to do this for me), I’m ready to move on to deeper things like, “How do I live as a Christian in America?”
Maybe this seems like a no-brainer, but I’ve spent an exorbitant amount of time thinking about it. Many missionaries languish back in the States, like life no longer has the meaning and purpose it did overseas. I wrestle with this but keep thinking: If I’m living the gospel anywhere I am, it shouldn’t feel that way.
Also, because I’ve lived out of the country for half of my life, I have the curse (and the blessing) of seeing things about my culture from a different perspective. I can’t listen to the commentary on Christian radio without mulling over how a Tanzanian friend might interpret it. I can’t go grocery shopping without thinking about how an African in poverty might judge what I buy.
In November, I wrote a piece for the EFCA blog called Swimming in the Stuff of America. It’s about my struggle to steward my extraordinary wealth as an American, and in my opinion, it’s one of the most important things I’ve written in 15 years of blogging. Top 5, probably. Yet some of the responses I received puzzled me – people who insinuated that I shouldn’t feel so bad – like I was struggling over nothing.
Gil and I are co-teaching an adult class at church, and he recently asked the group to list some “acceptable sins” in America. Not a single person mentioned materialism or consumerism, and I just about fell off my chair because for me, that sin is squawking loudly with glaring blinking lights.
Sometimes I feel like an alien, like I speak a different language that no one understands. And I wonder if I’m just completely crazy.