I was smitten.
I've always loved the outdoors--fishing, skiing, swimming; all the things that kids do. When I was introduced to camping overnight in a remote, lightly traveled wilderness... well... the rest was history. I found myself in love with nature, and it's a love I carry forward today in many of the same hobbies: fishing, backpacking, canoeing, cycling, running, swimming, and just enjoying the views wherever they may come.
This love of the outdoors led naturally into a passion for what we might term "environmental causes." In college this was a huge thing for me. I worked for Lutherhaven Ministries one summer as a camp counselor and then came back as an off-site trip leader, which was a fantastic synthesis of my passions for God and the outdoors. Camp reenforced many of my ideologies, and I returned to school passionate for several causes. Like any good environmentalist I despised all the things that led to global warming and I was into organic stuff and all sorts of things. I listened to statistics and became interested in things like the "world hunger problem." I had made the seamless transition from outdoor-lover to environmentalist and I assumed that's where I'd stay.
But I didn't. In fact, I really didn't stay in that camp very long at all, because one day not long after college I came across agrarianism care of Wendell Berry. When I found Berry I realized the nascent doubts I had about these causes. It's not that I felt lied to (full disclosure: I still think global warming, fossil fuel dependency, and world hunger are problems), but I realized that what environmentalism lacked was a coherent vision for improving the situation that didn't involve legislation and buying green foods--both of which felt like cop outs to me. This is because environmentalism is an "-ism" and as such it is concerned with solving for form rather than dealing with the particulars of a local environment. I'll let Berry explain:
Photo credit: Dan Carraco
What I discovered in agrarianism was an ideology that demanded my entire life--not just my advocacy or my purchases of "good" foods. It also demanded that I "think little," focusing on the limitations and advantages of a given place rather than any complex systemic issues, which frankly was a relief, because thinking big was not only depressing, it also didn't seem to accomplish much.A typical example of industrial heroism is to found in the present rush of experts to "solve the problem of world hunger"--which is rarely defined except as a "world problem" known, in industrial heroic jargon, as "the world food problematique." As is characteristic of industrial heroism, the professed intention here is entirely salutary: nobody should starve. The trouble is that "world hunger" is not a problem that can be solved by a "world solution." Except in a very limited sense, it is not an industrial problem, and industrial attempts to solve it--such as the "Green Revolution" and "Food for Peace"--have often had grotesque and destructive results. "The problem with world hunger" cannot be solved until it is understood and dealt with by local people as a multitude of local problems of ecology, agriculture, and culture. (Wendell Berry, "The Gift of Good Land")
Nonetheless, I did title this post "Why I'm an agrarian (sort of)..." so I should add: I'm not really there yet, because agrarianism, unlike environmentalism, cannot be held only as a set of ideals. It has to be practiced. To be an agrarian you have to be connected to the land, and I'm sorry to say that I do precious little to this effect. Working a small garden is the only time I really get my hands dirty (and often, I confess, this ends up being Kate's job). That's not to say a person has to be a farmer to be an agrarian, or, conversely, that all farmers are. Rather, agrarianism is a mind-set entirely oriented toward the good use of land which requires good thought but also good practice, by which I mean good work.
Ellen Davis, a theologian at Duke, writes, "If agrarianism were a technique of literary criticism, even a hermeneutic, I might more quickly become adept. But it is a mind-set, a whole set of understandings, commitments, and practices that focus on the most basic of all cultural acts--eating--and ramify into virtually every other aspect of public and private life." (from Scripture, Culture, and Agriculture: An Agrarian Reading of the Bible).
I now find myself right in the heart of farmland so vast and bountiful that God could hardly have set me in a better place to figure out if this is a practice for me. Here I am at the crux of all sorts of dilemmas facing a similar rural America to Berry's Kentucky farm. In these couple years I have discovered that one of the splendid sides of agrarianism is that you can disagree with your neighbors about both practice and ideology, but agrarianism by its very nature does not allow you either to ignore them, or to argue generically for "causes" or "issues." Moreover, one of the basic assumptions of agrarianism is that what's good for the community is good for the individual, so there can be no victory over against my neighbors. I have learned from Berry and others that the simple mantra, "We're all in this together" is most certainly true.
The thing I might not have guessed when I first picked up Berry's writings was the extent to which agrarianism would influence my faith as well. It has brought me back to the roots of scripture, which are--in the Old Testament at the very least--agricultural-driven. It has slowed me down, and reminded me of the virtue of doing a thing well--both hallmarks of the good prayer-life--and I find myself a more whole person today than I was before. In no small part I have agrarianism to thank for that.
So, I have no idea if I will influence anybody with this or any other piece on the subject, but I'm happy to contribute in my small part to a lifestyle that practices commitment to good work, good thought and good eating. A person can have many worse commitments in this life.
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