the city of joy

Our series, The Story of Stuff, concluded this past weekend with a consideration of this question: “what else is there?” Over these past three weeks, we have looked at some of the important questions which emerge from our culture of consumption, and have repeatedly asked whether or not this is, at heart, a deeply spiritual issue. We think it is, and we think that our Biblical faith has plenty to say to us about how we relate to what we make and own. This is not a small or marginal issue.

Let me suggest that the story of stuff will continue to remain our story unless we are able to find a better story, a story with a better and more glorious interpretation of what it means to live a human life. Right now in our culture, the story of stuff seems to be the best story there is. Inundated as we are in the constant messages of acquisition and the joy of new stuff, we find it hard to conceptualize anything different. Perhaps then, the problem is in our imagination. Perhaps the problem is that we are not able to see a different kind of life.

I picked up a little book from the discount shelves at chapters today. It is called The Book That Changed My Life: 71 Remarkable Writers Celebrate the Books That Matter Most to Them. Being a bookish person, this is the kind of title that grabs my attention. I want to know what other people read, especially those whose words I already value. I want to know the source and inspiration that shaped them; the who and what and how of their becoming. There is always a back-story, and it is helpful to know what it is. So with the story of stuff in mind, let me share with you one of the books that has had a lasting impact on me: Dominic Lapierre’s novel, The City of Joy (1985). Read the reviews at amazon.com and then go buy the book. But let me leave you with a small taste of it power to shift your attention away from your stuff.

This is a story of a place, Anand Nagar, a slum in the city of Calcutta, India. It is, in fact, one of the worst imaginable slums in a city quite overwhelmed by crippling poverty. And the irony of Anand Nagar is that its name means “city of joy”. The story follows the intersection of those who come to this place: an Indian peasant farmer who has to leave his land and moves to the city to become a rickshaw driver, a polish priest who lives in the slums in order to fulfil his calling, and an American doctor who comes to bring his healing arts but finds himself transformed in soul. From far away places come the people who crush themselves into the worst of conditions, make their life there, find love there, and ironically -- most startlingly to us who are defined by the story of stuff -- find joy there! For this is Lapierre’s very strange theme (strange to our ears), that in spite of the overwhelming poverty that these people experience, and the most imaginably horrible conditions, human beings are not defined by the things they surround themselves with. It is actually possibly for human beings to find joy in the worst of material conditions.

This theme is captured in the wedding celebration of two lepers, two people whose limbs are eaten away with infection, whose lives are apparently diminished by such a tragedy, but who are not the least diminished in their capacity for love, for celebration, and for the bonds of committed love. In Lapierre’s novel one begins to wake up to a life that is so much the richer when it is defined by such truths. But this does not mean that our entrance into this world as a reader is not one of simultaneous attraction and repulsion. At one point the American doctor can no longer bear his daily experience of Anand Nagar, and decides to escape for a few days into one of the luxurious hotels of that city. He has the financial resources to do so, and he seeks relief. But after a few days he finds himself inevitably drawn back to what he was previously trying to escape, back to the people he has come to deeply respect. He is being changed. In the heart of the novel, the polish priest says, "Bless you, Calcutta, for in your wretchedness you have given birth to saints." And then you hang your head for a moment of repentant prayer: can a culture defined by the story of stuff give birth to saints?

Lapierre’s City of Joy is a disturbing book, graphically filled with the sights and sounds -- and smells -- of some horrible conditions. But it is ultimately an uplifting book, because we realize that what makes us uniquely human is our ability to love, to find grace, and to become more than what we surround ourselves with. Anand Nagar, "The City of Joy", will set before you an alternate vision of possibility.

This Sunday we are privileged to welcome a special guest to Westside, George Snyman of Hands at Work Africa. We partner with the ministry George leads, giving of our money but also giving of our time. Over these past few years, several dozens of volunteers have served our African brothers and sisters in practically transformative ways. We can think of no more powerful way to exit the story of stuff than to spend time listening and being impacted by George Snyman as he shares his vision of African transformation. We hope to see you at 9:29 or 11:11 am. The coffee will be hot.