Many people – from all generations – will likely feel recognition, even profound empathy, with the startling peacefulness of his words as they are revealed during an especially poignant scene from this year’s Academy Award-nominated film: “Into the Wild.”
The movie is inspired by the true story (also vividly documented in Jon Krakaeur’s 1996 book of the same name) of a 1990 alum of Emory University who, upon graduation, and for reasons known in fullness only to him, tossed his mortarboard into the heavens and, without farewells or explanations, left behind the trappings (“traps?”) and conventional life pathways open to many of his peers — finding and creating community; nurturing relationships with family and friends; and pursuing job and vocational security.
Instead, McCandless gave away all of his financial savings ($24,000) to OXFAM, abandoned his car, and even burned the remaining money in his billfold. Then, and in ways similar to some of those who were sources of inspiration and meaning for him (Henry David Thoreau, Sharon Olds, Lord Byron, Wallace Stegner, Leo Tolstoy), McCandless set out upon a journey across the country and into the depths of Alaska — an uncommon pathway that seems to have offered him the liberating freedom and enthralling chaos of a fully “examined life.”
Chaos
Genesis 1:1-2: In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. And the earth was formless and void, and darkness was over the surface of the deep; and the Spirit of God was moving over the surface of the waters.
Ruach
In a recent book, The Spirit of Life: A Universal Affirmation, Jurgen Moltmann writes: “In the Creation story, the ‘ruach elohim’ vibrated over the chaos (Genesis 1:2). The God, who according to the story that follows creates everything through the Word, speaks in the creative energies of the ruach.” (pp. 41-42)
Moltmann continues to reveal parallels between the creative power and the life force of ruach to the Holy Spirit with stunning hopefulness: “God loves Creation. God is bound to every one of (God’s) creatures in passionate affirmation. God loves with creative love. In the self-distinction and the self-giving of love, God is present in all creatures and is their innermost mystery. With every bit of self-seeking and self-contradiction that we surrender to the will of the Creator who loves us, the Shekinah (divine dwelling place) comes close to God. We live again, wholly, and can undividedly affirm life. The wanderings are over. The goal has been reached. We are conscious of God’s happiness in us and are conscious of ourselves in God’s bliss.” (p. 50).
I graduated from college four years after Christopher McCandless and I feel a sense of recognition (even envy) in his courageous (and arguably, reckless) pursuit of self-understanding, self-love, and for authentic connections to the world and with the people he encountered. Neither the book nor the film quite explains “why” McCandless chose to make the choices he made. This wise approach to such a compelling story gives it a sense of universality — I suspect that almost anyone would find something recognizable in the odd, beautiful, tragic, and transcendent life of Christopher McCandless.
For almost a decade, my various callings in life and ministry have been passionately invested in, and inspired by, the “stunning hopefulness” of my peers (Generation X) and our slightly younger spiritual cohorts (Millennials; Generation Y). Our denomination, but far more significantly, I believe, our Church — the Body of Christ – has been and continues to experience a type of chaos that seeks the “breath of God” with deep and faithful eagerness. Some have forecast a new “Great Awakening” or “Reformation.” Others take note of the vast output and consumption of books that have elevated atheism to new levels of appeal and acceptance.
This past January, more than 800 people – most of them between the ages of 18 and 25, but with plenty of other generations well represented – gathered for the annual College Conference hosted by the Montreat Conference Center. Our theme was succinct: “Hope Has a Voice.” Our leadership, both the young women and men who planned and implemented the event for months prior to January and the speakers (Ishmael Beah — author of The New York Times best-selling memoir, A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier; Shane Claiborne, a founder of The Simple Way and author of The Irresistible Revolution and Jesus for President; and survivors from the Virginia Tech mass shootings of last April) compelled me to reach out to one of the most visible and vigorous supporters of this gathering — Jack Haberer, Outlook editor.
Simply put, I asked him if he’d be open to supporting and sustaining a visible, viable, and ongoing forum from which the “stunning hopefulness” of the voices of young adults — unique in their theological perspectives and personal experiences — could find an audience. In the chaos that marks present and ever-unfolding ecclesiology, I fear that the loudest voices have the effect of creating a monolithic, caricatured image of young adults and their love and commitment to the church, and more succinctly, to God as revealed in the person of Jesus.
Thankfully, and before I had to plead, cajole, and badger the staff of The Presbyterian Outlook, the answer came back swiftly and with strong affirmation. In the weeks and, I hope, the years ahead, this regular column will become a sacred and hallowed space — a place where we will be blessed to read and “hear” the voices of a generation of young adults whose wisdom, faith, insights, experiences, and love — for God, for each other. and for all of Creation — just may help nudge us all a bit closer to the coming Kingdom of God.
Many people have agreed to be part of this “Ruach Initiative.” Please feel encouraged to add your voice to the chorus. No singing skills or musical gifts are necessary!
David S. Lindsay is pastor of the Presbyterian Church on Edisto Island (South Carolina.) He is the editor of this new column and can be reached at [email protected].
