I have recently been introduced to the writings of Adrian Bell1, a remarkable Englishman of the past century, whose writings evidence a keen attention to the detail and stories of rural and agrarian life in post-war Suffolk. Bell documents a way of life that is beautiful, communal, simple, and limited, but alas, a beautiful life that has sadly vanished. Bell has thus rendered us a priceless service in capturing these stories and traditions of old, so that we are not without their witness and example in this present age. The lessons from these wise rural folk can still teach us much today. Yes, their way of life was full of challenges, discomfort, and frustrations, but there was also a richness to their life — seen in deep community, simple contentment, and immersion in nature — that we can but envy.
One remarkable encounter Bell documents in his book ‘Men and the Fields’ concerns some old reins and bridle of a horse — a mass of tangled and mangled leather on the floor — which to the eye of the uninitiated looked only fit for the rubbish heap. However, the shepherd in whose possession these reins now were, knew otherwise:
“Ah I mustn’t leave he behind… There was an old harness-maker in the village — old Ely. He’d codge a bit of harness up, no matter how rotten, and would only charge about a shilling.”2
Adrian goes on to note that Old Ely never thought about making money, indeed his enterprise would never earn him anything anyway. When you factor in time, he probably operated at a loss — but this didn’t seem to matter. Whereas others wouldn’t mend a mangled harness but would try to sell you a new one, Old Ely obviously enjoyed giving new lease of life to that which in his eyes, and the eyes of the owner (and perhaps them alone), could become valuable again. The community was richer because of Old Ely. When he died, the local people realised they had lost someone of great worth — and his like they will probably never see again.
There is much for us to ponder on here from Old Ely’s example. How much do we consign to the rubbish heap because we have lost the art of mending and patching up? How much waste do we produce because it is easier to throw away than to mend? How much value (both inherent and material) do we overlook in what we dispose of? When was the last time we took the time to patch up a pair or trousers that had gone to holes rather than simply throwing them away? The thread may cost only a few pounds, the time needed an hour perhaps, but in the end, we would have saved some clothes from the landfill site, and have gained our trousers back. All it took was the “discomfort” of time and skill.
This leads us to acknowledge the shameful reality that we cherish and value little of what we own. That which is expensive or sentimental we would fix, but most of what we own if it broke we simply would throw away and replace — to us it is only worth its utility and once that is lost it becomes worthless.
This propensity to discard is engrained deep within our society. Our modern economy is founded upon limitless consumption and for us to consume more and more, we have to be enticed to dispose of more and more. Our economy works day and night to make us discard what we own. From the moment we buy something, forces are at work to depreciate its value, to make it worthless in our eyes, and to ultimately get us to throw it away. The perverse truth that most of our possessions diminish in value the exact moment we purchase them is the truth that our economy loves — and perhaps is even founded upon.
The methods our economy gets us to fall for this trap are many and carefully designed. The removal of aesthetic beauty from most of our products is designed to reduce their inherent value and desirability (for instance who cherishes a plain white plate and who really minds if it breaks?). The cheap materials used in many goods ensure they wear out quickly, and thus ‘need’ to be replaced. And the constant stream of updates, upgrades, and new editions makes what we own seem outdated and worthless — and in some cases, unusable as when a software upgrade renders a smartphone incompatible and thus unusable —this an example of the dreaded modern phenomenon of planned obsolescence. In short, much of what is good and usable in our possession ends up in our landfills — and often without so much as a thought from us.
But it wasn’t always so. In old times, people cherished most of what they owned. They knew who made it, what it took to make it, and the history of how they obtained it. Almost everything held sentimental, aesthetic, or ancestral value. Even if something was easier or cheaper to replace, other values influenced the decision, overriding simple economy and utility. For those who were materially and economically poor this dynamic of mending and reusing was even stronger. Those with little are more inclined to cherish and protect what they have. One could perhaps even say that a dinner plate owned by the poor holds more overall value than the same plate owned by the rich. Thus, waste ran against the grain for the old and the poor, and so it should for us.
There is though a deeper lesson to be learnt from the example of Old Ely, and that concerns the people around us. How many people do we consign to the proverbial rubbish heap because to help them or mend their broken and worn-out lives doesn’t make sense to society or seemingly ‘pays off’ little? These people may be the insignificant, the unimportant, the weak, the vulnerable, or the seemingly too far gone, but in God’s eyes, they are infinity valuable because they bear His image, and there is nothing more valuable than this.
The smouldering wick, that which we would quickly blow out, God took the time and effort to rekindle. The bruised reed He took in His gentle hands and mended (Isaiah 42:3). Now He calls us to take the time and effort and do the same with the weak and vulnerable around us, even if to society it looks crazy, pointless, and inefficient. Waste runs against the grain in God’s economy too. The people and indeed the material possessions he has entrusted to our care He expects us to steward and cherish. They are too valuable to simply throw away.
http://www.adrianbellsociety.co.uk
Bell, A. Men and the Fields. Little Toller Books edition.
Excellent.
Great article Hadden - something that needs to be remembered very much these days. I always get laughed at for mending everything, but I'm hoping my boys will have taken on the importance of valuing what we have.