A House Like A Goldfish Bowl
solitude, privacy, and community
The first month we lived here, I was out walking the dog and ran into a neighbor. When he found out what house I lived in, he just about jumped and told me everything he thought was wrong with it: “That house is a goldfish bowl!” And: “That dining room is too small for that crazy wallpaper.” And: “Your former neighbors sold their house because the people who lived in your house yelled at each other so loud that everyone could hear.”
It was not exactly the “new neighbor” chat I was expecting.
We like that crazy wallpaper. And while we love the big windows in our house, he was right that people can see inside our house (I mean, if that’s where they’re looking) when the angle of sun is right, or at night, if the blinds are up and the lights are on.
We live on a corner, too, so one side of our backyard opens onto the street. The raised deck faces the street like a thrust stage where we perform short plays for the neighbors, like “Morning Reverie with Coffee,” “What’s for Dinner Tonight?,” and “Digging in the Garden with Heidi.”
We tried to build a privacy fence in April. Adam, my in-laws, and our friend, John, installed about seventy-five percent of a six-foot, wood-slat fence before a man pulled over in his car to tell us to stop. He told us we couldn’t fence a side yard without a permit because it bordered a street. Turns out he was our local council president. So. These past two months we’ve been wading through the bureaucracy. (Or, I should say, Adam has been.) Fourteen forms to submit, two to notarize. Sizable application fee. Three bright orange lawn signs that say “Public Hearing” at each corner of the yard. Three in-person appearances at three municipal meetings. The last one is in early July.
So, your part-time hermit lives in a house with a half-finished fence. We have twenty posts standing in a line, like a memorial or an art installation. Birds like to sit on them.
Privacy is a funny thing. One the one hand, I want to feel shielded and protected from the eyes and opinions of others. Human beings need some space where we can be ourselves, without feeling as though we have an audience. On the other hand, a sense of community is a wonderful feeling. Without a finished fence, I can still wave hello when people walk by. And I love how sunlight pours through our big windows, even if that means sometimes people can see my wallpaper or know what TV show we’re watching.
Nowadays, most of us aren’t close to our neighbors, even if we’re friendly. But something is richer in the texture of daily life when you are glad to see the person next door, even just to wave, instead of seeing them as strangers. You can trade texts about deer running up and down the street, help carry a heavy piece of furniture into someone’s house, loan a few tools, take back a runaway dog. These are all things Adam and I have done this past year.
Community is a much stronger religious value than privacy. Love your neighbor, remember the poor, welcome the stranger, we are taught. These things are true and right. But privacy is necessary, too, for reflection, prayer, and rest. For the good of the soul and the limits of the self. There are times in life when it’s not possible – with small children, as a caregiver, as a patient in a hospital or nursing home. But it’s a value we don’t talk much about, the need for space, time, thoughts, and feelings that belong only to you.
Privacy is a modern idea – most human beings have lived at close quarters and in groups since time immemorial. Only the wealthy could have private rooms, and even then, women and children’s bodies were not really their own. Early monastic rules like The Rule of St. Benedict imagined that monks would all sleep in the same room, although they were to have their own beds.
Still, Jesus teaches that our spiritual life is not just communal and shared, but also private and personal: that we each can have a relationship with God, with the Holy, that is our own. That to go to our “inner room,” whether it is inside our house or within ourselves, to pray – to close the door and be with God and with who God made us to be – is valuable and good. Jesus does this himself, again and again, as reported by all four Gospels (see the end of this newsletter for examples). He is with people, serving and loving them, and he also goes off by himself, to be with God and center down into his own body and soul.
Our fence permit will probably come through in a couple of weeks. Sitting on the deck and working in the garden will be more private. And we will still wave to our neighbors from the front yard or on walks down the block, even to the man who doesn’t like our wallpaper.
THINGS I’M READING
Make Peace Before the Sun Goes Down: The Long Encounter of Thomas Merton and His Abbot, James Fox, by Roger Lipsey (2015)
Abbot James Fox drove his monk, Thomas Merton nuts but, more seriously, had complete power over his life and work, forbidding him to travel away from the monastery for many years. He often described Merton to monastic superiors (and others) as neurotic and immature. Paradoxically, at the abbot’s own request, Merton served as his confessor for ten years (!). Lipsey explores and describes the complexities of their relationship, their egos and their foibles, and grudging respect for each other.
How the Word Is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America, by Cliff Smith (2021)
I’ve just started this new bestseller, and I find Smith’s descriptions of his visits to significant places in the history of slavery in America (Thomas Jefferson’s plantation of Monticello, Angola Prison in Louisiana, and a Confederate military cemetery, among others) hard to put down. Great storytelling and easy to read, but his insights and honesty, and well, just the shock for me (and I’ve read plenty about slavery before) of just how deeply our history as a slave-economy (for hundreds of years), still affects who we are and how we are as Americans, are invaluable and penetrating.
JESUS IN SOLITUDE - as reported by the four Gospels
Now when Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. (Matthew 14:13)
And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone. (Matthew 14:23)
In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. (Mark 1:35)
After saying farewell to them, he went up on the mountain to pray. (Mark 6:46)
They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” (Mark 14:32)
At daybreak he departed and went into a deserted place. And the crowds were looking for him; and when they reached him, they wanted to prevent him from leaving them. (Luke 4:42)
But he would withdraw to deserted places and pray. (Luke 5:16)
When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself. (John 6:15)
PRAISE FOR MY NEW BOOK
"What a rich devotional! Scripture—beribboned with trenchant questions, goading insights, invitations to sit, to pray, to write. Invitations to read Zora Neale Hurston and W. H. Auden. Yes, please!" —Lauren F. Winner, author of Wearing God
"Offering excerpts from the biblical text and the Connections commentary series, questions for deeper reflection, lectio divina, and space for personal reflection and thoughts, Everyday Connections provides a rich and essential resource to strengthen and support your spiritual and devotional practice." —Song-Mi Suzie Park, Associate Professor of Old Testament, Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary
"Given the richness of this devotional companion to the Connections Commentary, I can’t imagine it sitting on your shelf unused! Designed with simplicity yet filled with depth, it is a resource that will help you engage scripture and life both more fully and more joyfully. The flexibility built into its use—individually, in small groups, and in relation to worship—give this guide longevity well beyond a particular lectionary year." —Marjorie Thompson, author of Soul Feast
"In days of great tumult and stress, the guided meditations on Scripture and the prompts to prayer collected in Everyday Connections are a welcome balm and generous call to heed God’s voice in the everyday life of those of us who yearn to follow Jesus. In days of joy and hope, this same book invites believers to praise a God whose word shows us the way of faithfulness and whose grace is ever abounding." —Eric D. Barreto, Frederick and Margaret L. Weyerhaeuser Associate Professor of New Testament, Princeton Theological Seminary
"Everyday Connections leads readers through the spiritual practice of centering our heads and hearts in faithful reflection and connection. It resources the writings of the bible as well as the broader spiritual and intellectual resources of the Christian tradition, inviting us to link Christian wisdom, images, and teachings to the lived experiences of our communities and the communities of others. I commend this resource to pastors, chaplains, laypeople, and teachers engaged in the hermeneutical task of rendering biblical texts meaningful for our contemporary realities. If you seek to cultivate fresh engagement with the bible, communities, the Christian lectionary calendar, and the self and to have fresh voices accompany you along the way, this resource can guide you in that endeavor." —Shively T. J. Smith, Assistant Professor of New Testament, Boston University
MY OTHER BOOKS
Click either image to order from Bookshop.org.
Click either image to order from Bookshop.org.
Such thought-provoking writing. I wanted to come and smudge the house when I read about the previous owners. What irony that what we think is private never really is...even if there are no human witnesses, nature's other creatures and God are faithful witnesses. And, excited about the book!
When I saw the caption on your wallpaper I thought "Hey that's not crazy, I like it!" Glad to read that you do as well. Very Virginia. :-)