Brian Hamilton

Called to Farm?

I might be able to explain the ethics of my desire to farm, or really to engage in any sort of hand labor for a long period of time, but the ethics aren’t motivating me. It is undeniable that hand laborers are the backbone of every country; life as anything else is a life that necessarily consumes what hand laborers produce. We cannot eat without farmers, since they’re the ones who sow and reap our food; we cannot live indoors without carpenters and masons to build our houses; we cannot use any of the machinery on which moderns so mindlessly rely without mechanics (broadly considered).

I’m not so naive as to forget that most of these jobs have been turned over to inevitably exploitive industry, displacing workers and using methods impossible to sustain. I do think, though it may be proof of the “choose your battles” mantra in our present situation, that to live a life devoid of the hand labor is to live by unreciprocal consumption, in every instance ignorant of natural limits on consumption. Not that everyone should be a farmer?the world desperately needs people-workers, of course?but that the connection between consumer and producer must be intimate and intentional, never in ignorance; the Christian community must recognize that hand labor is equal to service is equal to congregational leadership in terms of “ideal Christian occupations.” The Christian community of my experience has largely overlooked this.

I could also talk forever about the obvious pull of Christianity towards environmental partnership, intentional partnership over impartial stewardship, and how working the land and keeping it is more faithful and effective than simply combating past maleffects on their own terms?that’s not really motivating me either.

Farming would bring discipline; living in a barn would reduce dependency on material goods and modern luxury; working with the nature would connect me to her in a way I’d rather not miss. These are welcomed benefits, but again, not my central reasons.

My desire to work, perhaps to farm, stems from an increasingly overwhelming disgust with the academy, an increasingly overwhelming awareness of the chasm between humanity and creation, and an increasingly overwhelming feeling of my own lifelong lethargy and inability to do hard work. My desire to work is wholly visceral; any reasons I can give are reflective and to some extent defensive.

“If it feels right, do it” they say, and I don’t really know how to live any differently, though it worries me that I don’t know how to judge instinct. I’ll most likely apply for a few farming internships for next season and involve myself in it over the course of this semester. That way I can feel through my interest and cleanse myself of overly-romanticized images of farm life. Most likely I should involve myself just as heavily in urban service, so as to more tangibly know urban life and needs and to cleanse myself of negative stereotypes. Hopefully regular work at the Catholic Worker will fulfill both.

20 January 2005 |
tags: Personal