A wife of one and mother of many, theologian, missiologist, educator, and story-teller, Ruth Padilla DeBorst has been involved in theological formation for integral mission in her native Latin America and beyond for several decades. She serves with Resonate Global Mission, leading the Comunidad de Estudios Teológicos Interdisciplinarios (CETI), the International Fellowship for Mission as Transformation and leadership development initiatives of the Christian Reformed Church. Along with her husband, James, she lives in Costa Rica as a member of Casa Adobe, an intentional Christian Community with deep concern for right living in relation to the whole of creation. Her studies include a Bachelors in Education (Argentina), an MA in Interdisciplinary Studies (Wheaton College), and a PhD in Theology (Boston University).
The love of stuff justifies consuming people in the name of production, progress, and the maintenance of privilege. It also justifies the voracious plunder of our planet with no regard for the delicately balanced web of life, its most vulnerable members, or for the living conditions of future generations. And it eats away at our very soul.
There’s a phrase in Singapore, where I grew up, which has come to describe an aspect of our national psyche – kiasu. The word has come to mean a fear of losing out. Being kiasu is rooted in a deep insecurity, a state of being which isn’t unique to Singapore. We are deceived by a heart-breaking lie: that God has not given us all we need to thrive.
We live in a moment of history in which our way of living is characterized by shrill advertising, rampant over-consumption and wanton waste – all with disastrous consequences for the ecological communities we are part of and upon which we depend on for our very survival. And yet, there is an alternative narrative.
Advent and Christmas remind us that the Christ-child came to bring peace. We remember that we need peace with God, and we remember that we need peace with our neighbor. But does Christ’s birth have anything to do with bringing peace between us and animals – does the advent mean goodwill to manatees?
A week or two on Bardsey may teach me some important things, but the challenge is how I live out what I learn in my everyday life.
Recently I was staying overnight in a rural cottage and decided to get up for an early walk. It was bitterly cold. The fields were nearly bare; however, the hedgerows and field margins were bursting with life. The richness of life at the margins got me thinking.
Last summer, events conspired to give me three totally different experiences: Week 1 at a Christian festival, part of Week 2 with my family at Disneyland Paris, and Week 3 at the Taizé Community in France. The question I found myself asking was, ‘What is the spirituality of this gathering? What are its “gods” – its underlying, unwritten values and assumptions about what really matters?’
I long for a transformed, honest food system in which there will be an end to economics characterized by ‘skimping the measure, boosting the price and cheating with dishonest scales’… Yet the supermarket mantra of ‘get big or get out’ certainly seems to be winning the war right now, and our mission here appears to be ‘impossible’. But is it?
Today’s consumer culture takes a love of new starts to extremes. Fed up with your clothing, computer, phone or furniture? Chuck them out and buy something new. The New Testament is full of ‘new heaven’, ‘new earth’, ‘new Jerusalem’, ‘new creation’. As I grew up I assumed ‘new’ meant exactly what it means in the culture I’m surrounded by.
