CAMP Spirit

One of the things I love about living in the Rehoboth area is that we have the best of both worlds: One may enjoy the leisurely pace of life at the beach and the rustic beauty of the country, or, in just two hours, experience the diversity and excitement of cities such as Washington, Baltimore, or Philadelphia. A commonplace of postmodern society that becomes much more evident in an urban setting is the stark contrast between the "haves" and the "have-nots." (Yes, Mr. President, there ARE still have-nots in our nation.) While we have a spectrum of economic levels here at the shore, nevertheless, in the city this is much more visible and harder to ignore. Urban life offers a distinctive view of what many social critics call "marginality," but I don’t think we need to go very far to find marginality.

Most people are, to a certain extent, marginal in some area of their lives. The well-to-do, materially successful, white man may be overlooked for promotion because of his sexual orientation. The lesbian in the power suit might still be expected to make the coffee. The pillar of the community is shunned by his church because of his commitment to helping people with HIV. Even within marginal communities, there is marginality: Socially prominent and "respectable" segments of the queer community shun and deride drag queens, leather folk, and the differently sexual, and vice-versa. Everyone, on some level, seems to want to be in the center, on the fast track, or in the know—most often because we have been taught that this is the place to be, frequently so that we can have someone on the fringes, less fortunate than ourselves, to look down upon.

Need this be so? I think not. I believe Spirit calls us to reclaim and cherish the margins of our existence. The margins are where diversity thrives, creativity flourishes, and integrity reigns. Korean theologian Jung Young Lee, in his book Marginality: The Key to Multicultural Theology (Fortress, 1995), remembers a nature walk he once took:

One beautiful autumn afternoon, I decided to stop at a pond along the path. The calm water of the pond mirrored the beautiful autumn foliage. Sitting quietly on an old stump, I observed the peaceful pond. Suddenly a huge fish jumped up at the center of the pond, creating an enormous sound of water and powerful waves that spread in all directions. The waves moved to the edge of the pond next to where I was sitting. The beautiful concentric circles of waves lapped endlessly toward the shore. When the waves finally reached the edge, however, they began to ebb back to the center from which they originated. Their backward movement was an amazing discovery for me.... Why [in the past] did I not pay attention to ebbs returning to the center, but noted only the waves coming out to the edge? Why was I interested only in something happening at and from the center? Why did I neglect what happened at and from the margin? (p. 30)

Lee notes that when the waves return to the center from the margins, a new center is created. The center is changed because the waves interacted with the edges of the pond. The margins, which he had formerly ignored, actually affect what happens to and at the center. And so it is with life. Those whom society, church, and state have relegated to the margins can affect what happens at the center, if they/we will keep on keeping on. As any drag diva will tell you, the "fringe" can make or break an ensemble; accessorizing is everything. Great women and men of all spiritual traditions have made a difference because they chose to seek the edges of their world, to interact with and learn from the margins in order to effect change at the center—people like Jesus, the Buddha, Confucius, Lao-tzu, Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, the Dalai Lama, and Martin Luther King. These people are saints because they realized that the key to wholistic, healthy, spiritual living is to live in both worlds (margin and center), without being bound by either of them. They stand in contrast to those such as Jerry Falwell, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger, and Pat Robertson, who live in opulence at the expense of and on the backs of the marginalized.

When the margins are able to affect the center, a new marginality is created that transcends both the center and the margins, a harmony of difference that Buddhists call nirvana and Christians the reign of God. This harmony of difference is Spirit’s intention for humankind. Its opposite, and perhaps the greatest sin of our time, is "in/difference"—the unwillingness to be different, the inability to appreciate difference. This indifference leads to boredom which results in inactivity. The center’s status quo remains intact, and the margins stay unheard and invisible.

Where will next summer find you—at the margins, or at the center? Making a difference through difference, or guarding the privilege afforded by the status quo? Think about it.