in·do·lence
n. Habitual laziness; sloth.

 

1603, “insensitivity to pain,” from Fr. indolence (16c.), from L. indolentia “freedom from pain, insensibility,” noun of action from indolentem (nom. indolens) “insensitive to pain,” used by Jerome to render Gk. apelgekos in Ephesians; from L. in- “not” + dolentem (nom. dolens) “grieving,” prp. of dolere “suffer pain.” Sense of “laziness” (1710) is from notion of “avoiding trouble” (cf. taking pains).

noun inactivity resulting from a dislike of work

 

I find it interesting that the meaning of ‘indolence’ is derived from an inability to feel or be grieved by pain or suffering. This is precisely the root of the problem with the church today. We are seared to the suffering of the unsaved; we are numb to the suffering in our own souls, almost ignorant that the blessed life is something different. What results from this numbness? Sloth, laziness, inactivity. I am reminded of C.S. Lewis’ thought that pain is God’s megaphone to us; it is God’s way of shouting to us his instructions. Pain is, after all, nature’s emergency alert system. When I touch a hot pan, pain tells me to move my hand. Similarly, the pain or suffering that I should experience when I think on an unsaved friend, or witness the plight of the poor and hungry around the world, this should move me to action. This is not a note on social action, but rather a note about ignorance. It is one thing to say that we aren’t doing enough with what we know is going on. It is another thing to say that we aren’t even seeing the whole picture. We know that there are hungry, there are poor, there are maimed, there are slaves. But one thing that I’m not sure we know is that we, you and I, are implicated in the suffering going on around the world. We are the one’s responsible for our own consumption, of our own waste, of our own lives.

 

The shocking thing is that we don’t feel guilty anymore for being the ‘haves’; we don’t grieve at all for the ‘have-nots’. Perhaps it would help if I got more specific. I have absolutely no idea who is being exploited so that I can buy super-sized frozen chicken breasts in a bag. I don’t know for many reasons, some of which I can help, and some I cannot. This knowledge is necessary so that I am not indolent, so that I am sensitive to exactly what I am responsible for. For more than a century, Christians in America have been ‘victimized’ into this indolence because of the industrial market. People I don’t know are contracting out work from some place, I don’t know where, with certain methods, I know not what, to render me a cheap and luxurious good in and out of season. This is unnatural. This is costly, and the problem is, I don’t know exactly how costly. I am reminded of an anecdote from one of my first philosophy classes with Dr. Martin: A rich man charged a group of scholars with surveying all the wisdom and literature of the known world and summarize what they found in a single sentence. After months of hard work, they reported back a single, short sentence, “THERE ARE NO FREE LUNCHES.” Thus, when I buy a bag of frozen chicken from Wal-Mart, who is paying for my ‘free’ lunch? When I buy a pair of Nike’s, who is paying? I know one thing, although Nike’s are uber-expensive, the worker on the other end of that chain of trade isn’t getting his due.

I’ve been thinking about this problem, and I have concluded that by and large, Wendell Berry is correct when he says that the problem is reduced and made easier to solve by localizing your economy. This will be the subject of other posts, but in short, when what we buy is produced locally, of the local land, we are more able to see exactly what is taken when we buy something. You can’t create something out of nothing, unless you’re God, and so it is necessary to see and know. This can only be done by buying local.

Also, on the flip side of this issue is a Godly idea of WORK. What is work? It is something that is a part of the curse on mankind, right? We now have pain in our work. Working the land will be hard, done by the sweat of the brow. What I want to know is what does work look like in the Kingdom of God? Does it look like being a businessman? Does it look like being a part of the industrial complex? I submit that for me it does not. Work is an art, a virtue. It is now hard, but all things are good lessons for those who seek God. Instead of striving to get around work, we should realize that part of being happy, part of being obedient, part of being a man, a subduer of the earth, is work.

Here’s Wendell Berry on work:

 

And the real name of our connection to this everywhere different and differently named earth is “work.” We are connected by work even to the places where we don’t work, for all place are connected; it is clear by now that we cannot exempt one place from our ruin of another. The name of our proper connection to the earth is “good work,” for good work involves much giving of honor. It honors the source of its materials; it honors the place where it is done; it honors the art by which it is done; it honors the thing that it makes and the user of the made thing. Good work is always modestly scaled, for it cannot ignore either the nature of individual places or the differences between places, and it always involves a sort of religious humility, for not everything is known. Good work can be defined only in particularity, for it must be defined a little differently for every one of the places and every one of the workers on the earth.
The name of our present society’s connection to the earth is “bad work”–work that is only generally and crudely defined, that enacts a dependence that is ill understood, that enacts no affection and gives no honor. Every one of us is to some extent guilty of this bad work. This guilt does not mean that we must indulge in a lot of breast-beating and confession; it means only that there is much good work to be done by every one of us and that we must begin to do it. All of us are responsible for bad work, not so much because we do it ourselves (though we all do it) as because we have it done for us by other people.

cf. Wendell Berry, Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community, “Conservation is Good Work”, 35-36.

Well, what then shall we say is good work? Are we doing any good work at conVerge? What should our principles of work be, or what principles should work revolve around? What say you?