One of the big ideas of Christianity, Judaism, and the Muslim faith was the idea of downward mobility. Jesus, in particular, preached the values of downward mobility, not upward mobility. That was, in fact, the cornerstone value of the prophets, mystics, and early Christian philosophers.

Rabbis all over the world called upon Jews to think of the poor. Muslims have five pillars of faith.

Muslims have five pillars of faith. One is giving mandatory charity specifically to help the poor with the basic needs of human dignity – food, shelter, clothing, and education. 

Spirituality, prophets said, and holiness, was about giving, not getting, moving down, not up.

It was the most fervent plea Jesus made to his followers: give of yourself to the poor and the needy to find everlasting life. My Amish friends share this value: they willfully suffer to get to heaven, as Jesus did.

In our culture, those early messages – they enchanted the world – have faded. We are taught to get as much as we can for ourselves.

We are, as a result, an increasingly greedy, angry, and cynical people,  taught in school and from birth to make a lot of money, more than our parents and grandparents. There are few things more sacred in our culture than earning a lot of money to buy things we don’t need and prepare for the long, complicated and expensive life ahead.

What do we value in our society more than money?

I have voluntarily and also unwillingly experienced downward mobility in the past decade of my life. I make a lot less money than I once did and have never amassed the savings I am told I need to be secure as I age.

My net income looks a lot like my best-selling royalty checks. My divorce was in many ways a choice – keep everything or lost most of it. It was an easy decision.

All around me, I see a society blinded and obsessed by corporations and institutions that are all about making money, more and more all the time. Nothing is worth stopping the rush up the ladder, not the earth, the weather, or even the safety of our children.

There is never enough, any stopping point. Every CEO knows the first time they make less money than the year before; their heads are likely to roll. There is no such urgency about a peaceful, meaningful, loving, or spiritual life.

Just think about what that has done to our civic life and traditions. It is conflict and struggles constantly; it is never about love, compassion, or spirituality.

The tricky and interesting part for me is that I was never happy when making a lot of money, and since I began my descent to downward mobility, I have never been happier. I am not poor; that is not a healthy or spiritual place to be in America.

But I am far from rich, or even secure.

And as I go down the ladder, I feel healthier, happier, and far more fulfilled. Down is where the good is needed, down is where the good is done. Done is where the joy lives.

That is what spiritual life is all about, the giving of oneself to others. For me, it’s somewhat selfish. Giving to others makes me happy.

Our culture suggests over and over again that the way to go is always up and always more.

The best cards, houses, toys, devices, clothes. Making it to the top, seeking the limelight, coveting the McMansion, the boat, the supercar, breaking the record, surpassing those around us, that’s what draws attention, rewards us with glamorous things, gets us famous or well known, and offers all of the many rewards of money and fame.

Yet there are many rewards from downward mobility as well.

Peace of mind, fulfillment, freedom, and a spiritual life rewards us with happiness, pride, and love.

I didn’t need all those things money could buy, and the struggle to get to the stop and stay there nearly killed me. I don’t miss it ever. Security comes from within side, not from a bank account.

I believe I found love in my life once there was room for it in my head, rather than all the distractions of being successful and well off.

There is never enough money in that world, nothing at the finish line but death. Like a shark, you have to keep swimming until you come apart or can’t swim any longer. Then, it’s your time to be eaten. That life is not for me.

I am not a Christian, but I have to be honest, the way of Jesus gave me another path to take; his idea of the spirituality of downward mobility was new to me; I had never heard it before, and neither, apparently, have those people building those lavish and garish churches all over the country.

It’s a fascinating thing about me and Jesus, I don’t worship him but I seem to follow him.

I decided to do it, to be downwardly mobile, to leave the world of corporations and big advances and royalty checks behind, and live a simpler, quiet life surrounded by animals and the chance to do good. I retreated to one farm, then a smaller one. It is my safe and wonderful place.

I don’t wish to go to the bottom, as Jesus urged. I want to pay my bills.

But I did want to go further down the ladder, and I did. We got a smaller farm and house, fewer animals, a lower mortgage, and a busy road outside the door. I make a lot less money (lower taxes) and spend a lot less, I am need many fewer things.

I am freeer than I was.

Jesus said giving to the poor and the needy was the way to the Kingdom. And he meant life after death, as the Amish also believe.

I don’t know about that. For me, I believe the Kingdom is right here, at the Mansion, with the refugee students and Sue Silverstein.

And Maria, my blog, our animals, my photographs, and our farm. For me, the path downward opened the gates of the kingdom.