Why the hell do I live in Philadelphia?
January 09 07 20 comments
The Holidays brings it up again. A bad day where I feel unproductive and ineffective brings it but again. That question: why do I live here?
I vacillate between anti-suburban snobbery and being tired of Philadelphia. I enjoy not living in strip-mall-ville somewhere on a cul-de-sac, but then again, Filthadelphia is not a very pretty place. I grew up in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I love backpacking and scenery that is not man-made. There’s nothing really keeping us here—our extended families are 12+ hours away by car. Also, Philadelphia does not always seem like a “great place to raise a family.” I remember when we moved from the ‘burbs a few years ago—just at the time when my eldest son was starting kindergarten. People thought we were nuts. We were moving the wrong way. Everyone moves out when your kid turns 5, not in.
When I’m having a bad day, I generally like to visualize myself living in West Virginia.
You probably have someplace—likely not West Virginia, but some place nonetheless—that you like to believe would be better. Actually, what most of us really want is a place that is not just better, but a place where I am better, where I am more actualized and fulfilled. Not just a new scene, but a better me.
Isn’t that why we move around so much?
Looking for a better scene, I mean a better me? Every year, a sizeable chunk of the American population moves (see Restless Nation, by James Jasper). Why? Do we really think that we will be different just because the backdrop is different?
So, why stay?
Anti-suburban snobbery is not a very good reason—at least it does not satisfy my wanderlust. Laziness, either—the idea of moving makes me tired—but that is also not a good reason to stay. Susan and I have wrestled a long time with this issue. With family far away, the challenge of finding good schools in Philadelphia, and the cost of living—we have wrestled with this. Why stay?
Here’s what I have come up with:
- Other backdrops don’t make a better me. I’m staying because I don’t believe the myth of a better me in a better scene. I’m looking for a deeper work of God in my life than cosmetic changes. And this has been a place where God is dealing with my discontent heart. It has been a laboratory for my soul, and this community at liberti is a safe place to be a broken person who needs the mercy and love of Jesus.
- Philadelphia is not such a bad place for kids. Yes, it is not really clean. Yep, not the safest place, either. But suburbia is also a dangerous place to raise children, for other reasons. My kids have exposure to the great cultural offerings of the city, are growing up in a place where they have to learn to deal with people very different from them, and have a lot of spiritual “aunts and uncles.” Not bad.
- I want my life to count for something. I’m staying because I don’t just want to be a consumer of lifestyles. I don’t just want to shop for the best deal for my family. I choose to believe that by staying in one place, by putting down roots, by trying to build long-term relationships, my life and those of our family might have an influence—be it ever so small—on other lives and even on the great city of Philadelphia.
- As C.S. Lewis says, “If I had to give a piece of advice to a young man about a place to live, I think I should say, ‘Sacrifice almost everything to live where you can be near your friends.’ I know I am very fortunate in that respect.” [The Letters of C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves]. We Americans re-arrange our lives around work. Isn’t friendship/community more valuable in the long run?
- I recognize that the ability to “choose my own adventure” is actually a sign of my richness—the fact that I even have the opportunity to choose my own adventure shows that I have options, that I am rich. Most people don’t have such possibilities. Staying here is an identification with the poor. It is an admission of my spiritual poverty—that I really am here because God has brought us here to Philadelphia, and he will make it abundantly clear when and if we need to leave. But not ‘til then.
Finally, I am trying to live as if America were not my dream.
As if this world were not my home. I’m trying hard to “look for a city whose architect and builder is God” (Hebrews 11:10, 16). The Bible begins in a garden and ends in a city. And it will be a city beyond “our ability to ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20). That’s my real home. This is just a taste. And with that, I can live and stay—even when things don’t work like they should. Even when life here is unsatisfying and even frustrating. Jesus promises it (John 14:2).
What about you?
January 12 07 Susan Bertolino wrote:
This is by far the densest post you have written about a spiritual walk. I want to do it justice.
The truth is that I have no idea why I’m in Philly other than it may have been the only place that I could be broken enough to return to God. Even my son will say: Why are we here? We’ve had so many problems and have felt such despair—all of us—since we moved here, but that is not to say that good things haven’t happened as well.
I’m thinking of your five points which almost coincide with Aquinias 5 points of proving God’s existence. 1. Environment changes little—I lived other places and so has my husband; we always take our garbage with us. Moving cannot be based on improving us, but perhaps it can enhance our circumstances. Yet, like you I feel God is working deep changes in me here and I see it in my husband as well. It’s hard to say who was the tougher nut to crack: he was a believer when I was not, but he did not rely on God. I was angry and cynical. God is addressing us here.
2. I too, dislike the falseness I encounter in many suburbs, which is one reason I raise my son here. But it is expensive. But Chicago would have been the same. I don’t know what a good place is anymore. Michael needs more spiritual aunts and uncles, that is true. And he has suffered living here in other ways. But he has also been blessed.
3. You want your life to count for something. What does that mean? Some people see it as career. I know you don’t and I certainly don’t either. How does a life “count” and another one does not? I am not trying to trick you, but I would like to know what that means. Roots, relationships certainly count, but angels appeared overnight to Abraham and Jacob, then they departed. Doesn’t that count? Is count the same as making a difference?
4. Community and family is definitely more important. Yet some of us have jobs which force horrible choices upon us. What do we do when we work, not for vanity, but to provide for our families and serve the people in our charge at our workplace? This is my constant prayer. Geoff, you are a busy man, but I doubt you see it as an either/or solution.
5. Instead of choosing my own adventure, I would rather choose my own peace of mind. I too recognize that I am in Philly for a reason. And I sense that it will not be forever. That is where God and not me comes in.
As for the American dream, nothing I’ve ever done has represented it. In some ways, I wish I could stop people from even pursuing that myth. I believe it eventually brings heartache, despair and alienation. But perhaps I am jaded.
I canot quote the Bible as well as you. But I think of this from John, my favorite Gospel: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give it as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27
Now if only I could carve that one on my heart!!.