Spiritual Life and Death

I was drawn in at first by the bright sarcasm of the cover, and the witty title, Death By Suburb. Dave Goetz? Who's that? I read a couple of pages, and suddenly I found myself reading the thoughts of someone that seemed to share my struggle. Intrigued I read on , standing in the middle of my most local Barnes & Noble. Since at the moment I have a stack of approximately 10 books to read before I buy any more (I really mean it this time), I made it out of the store without purchasing. Now I am motivated to read my books, just so I can order this one . I've settled at the moment for reading the website articles, and the words Goetz writes ring true to me. Here's a passage that caught me:


The pop artist Jewel, a young woman in her middle 20s whose albums have sold millions, talked several years ago with Rolling Stone magazine about her motivations. She said, "I'm just a person who is honestly trying to live my life and asking, 'How do you be spiritual and live in the world without going to a monastery?'"

Her question rattled around in my brain, for neither can I move to a monastery. I'm stuck in the ''burbs; I don't have easy access to nature (that is, enough cash flow to afford a second house in some rural area), to quiet, to a more contemplative life. Something deep within me yearns for a more spacious spiritual consciousness, a more direct connection to the God of the galaxies. How can I draw close to my Creator in a world of endless strip malls, cookie-cutter houses, ubiquitous vans and sport-utility vehicles, and no space for solitude? A colleague calls the Chicago suburbs "the land of no horizons." Power lines, the dormers on a neighbor's Cape Cod, and mature hardwoods obstruct the full evening's redness in the west. The day's final beauty is always about an hour away. I commute to the country to see the stars.

While I esteem the saints throughout Christian history who abandoned the cities to draw close to God, most living in the suburbs and cities can't follow them. A few can, but for most people, family and career choices obviate a more contemplative life. If the get-away-from-it-all model of Christian spirituality is the high road, then most ordinary suburban folk, wedged in cloned subdivisions, can follow Christ only in lowly cul-de-sacs.

How then should we draw closer to God? Does geography dictate your proximity to God's heart? I can answer that one now. There is no real correlation between a "mountaintop experience" and being on a mountaintop. Although, I do have to say that living in the midst of such beauty as such that surrounds my home has directed my thoughts to God's artistry. I think that sometimes I left the valley, and the city, in some hopes that the mountains might bring me closer to God. The more I think on it, the more I see that it is not the haze of smog, the gray of fog, or the heat of the valley that I wanted to run from. It was my place in the suburbs that I wanted to leave. I wanted to run from the pressure to desire a larger and better house that is in the school district. I think I might have been hoping that a new town would make me value the things that matter, more. Geography has no real bearing on spirituality. God is God. Everywhere. Everlasting. It is my soul that must move.

I don't know what the future holds. God said that he has"plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" Jer. 29:11. God's plans are infinitely better than mine. It is nice to know that I'm not the only one that feels a certain sense of void in the suburbs. My hope is that I can find God's richness no matter where he leads me. If anyone has already read the book, comments are more than welcome.