Canadian mennonite article series: #8: a theology of limits - what to do when there isn't enough
Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves.
Genesis 11: 4
What if there isn't “enough for all”?
To suggest that there are limits to what we can do seems to go precisely against what Mennonite Disaster Service or Habitat for Humanity are all about.
For nearly 100 years there has always been more – more energy, more food, more opportunities. During this time it has, in fact, been true that shortages were mainly caused by inequity, not by an actual world-wide shortage. That is, there has in fact been enough food and financial capital available to meet the needs of the world poor. Therefore where people were lacking in resources or food, it made sense to aggressively petition western governments to address persistent inequities.
Even now, where stories of food riots and rice shortages enter the mainstream press, there is still so much excess and waste in the western world that a strong case can and should be made for equitable redistribution.
However we are living on a finite planet, with a finite ecosystem, finite energy reserves, and finite food production. Our finite planet may or may not currently have enough for all, but under humankind's present trajectory at some point there will indeed not be enough. The earth's situation is like a lifeboat scenario: too many passengers on a sinking ship with too few lifeboats available – it is impossible to save all of the passengers, what to do ...
What does the realization of a limited planet, of limited lifeboats, mean theologically?
The United Nations has recently acknowledged that it no longer has the resources to feed the poor, and other studies estimate the humans are using more than one earth planet worth of resources, meaning that we are using up the planet, tightening the limits even further for the future.
Historically, limits to agricultural production and population asserted themselves in the forms of plagues and famines, two topics which we don't often like to think about. We may be used to reading about terrible events in history, however those belong to another time, far removed from a world dominated by concerns of high-speed communications and on-line networking.
There is no question whether the church can weather great difficulties: Christian history is littered with wars and plagues, persecution and oppression. The question is how this will affect our theology – are we fair-weather friends with God, such that our faith relies on the continuation of a comfortable Western lifestyle?
I raise this question not to be pessimistic. In most cases I believe the answer to be “no”, that suffering and loss can strengthen and re-invigorate faith. The history of the Russian Mennonites provides a good parallel – for generations they enjoyed a comfortable, relatively affluent lifestyle in the Ukraine, followed by terrible tragedy during the revolution and Stalin era, yet they maintained a very strong faith tradition.
Really, the question is probably a bit more subtle. Given Canada's relatively low population density and access to water and resources, it seems reasonable to expect our society to continue to be stable and mostly well-fed, although the same probably seemed “reasonable” to many Russian Mennonites before the revolution. And even if Canadians are able to feed themselves, it will not be possible to feed and heal the millions who will suffer as we approach the limits of the earth's carrying capacity. Given the emphasis placed on “missions and service” by many Mennonite churches I wonder, however, whether a greater challenge to our faith wouldn't come from a situation in which there were not “enough for all”. Does our faith rely on a world, created by God, that has enough?
Again, the question is probably unfair. The Bible quite clearly does not imply a futility in helping and feeding, even if there isn't enough -- the poor will always be with us, but Jesus dedicated his life to ministering and working with the poor, despite the fact that there were far, far more poor than could be ministered to by one man and a small band of disciples.
Furthermore Mennonites, along with many other aid agencies, have been engaged in a variety of efforts, such as world peace or nuclear disarmament. These problems are long-term, possibly indefinite, with no end in sight, yet generation after generation of aid workers attack these problems with renewed energy and hope.
Nevertheless, even such complex topics such as disarmament might be solvable, in principle, and are therefore worth pursuing. But how do we face a large scale problem which has no solution, even in principle?
To some extent this is an anxiety of the western world. Many poorer parts of the world have no illusions of a limitless world – famine, drought, desertification and overcrowding make limits present and real for them. Whereas we are the ones pursuing the tower of Babel, building structures without end, and treating historical cautions as anachronisms. Letting land lie fallow – don't be ridiculous, that's economically wasteful! Taking a sabbath and not working (or reading email) – how quaint! However both of these are limits, requested by God, which we ignore at some peril.
A theology of limits is in no way meant to limit God – grace, love, and forgiveness should be celebrated in a theology of abundance. However what might a theology of limits look like? How might such a theology impact our churches, our faith, our lifestyle? How can we find a renewed attention to the sabbath, to the jubilee, and to the huge but finite creation?