Ten Theses on Intergenerational Stewardship - for those who don't live off the land
How to bring a blessing to our local communities
The Plough recently published one of the most densely saturated-with-wisdom articles I have ever read. Prince Michael zu Salm-Salm’s family in southern Germany has owned and stewarded the same area of land for centuries. Based on this intergenerational work and the lessons the land and its work have taught him, Salm-Salm has drawn up Ten Theses of Intergenerational Stewardship, applicable to anyone entrusted with land which they own.
However, very few of us own a substantial plot of the earth's surface. The land we can be said to “own” is limited to our back gardens (in my case a 10 x 5-metre plot of rented and sadly patio land), and for some of us, there is no land in the outside air that we can be said to own and steward. However, Salm-Salm’s theses are relevant for us all - landowners or not. The application may be different, but the principles are the same. As my friend Jacob Taylor pointed out, what is needed is for these theses to be applied to everyday life and this is what I will attempt to do. All of us have been entrusted with an area or neighbourhood in which we live, move, and have our being. This area may include a garden (or not), but it certainly includes a house, neighbours, local green spaces, and places of work, recreation, and worship. These are the communities, buildings, wild spaces, and people we have all been given responsibility over (even if we have only lived or will live briefly in these locations).
What follows are Salm-Salm’s original theses in bold, with my application to local communities under each.
We are only stewards and everyone has a part to play
No matter what we own: houses, tools, books, and heirlooms, everything is borrowed. While our dominant capitalistic societies emphasise private ownership, everything is in fact the Lord’s. What He entrusts to us we are to use well (both for the good of ourselves and the love of our neighbour), cherish, and protect. This is not only because they are His gifts to us but because one day He will require what is His from our hand and will require us to either pass on to the next generation, sell, or give to someone else in greater need than ourselves what we possess. Everything we have will one day become someone else’s. Recollection of this fact will help to promote in us the virtues of good stewardship.
However, all too often what we now possess is destined for the rubbish heap. One of the greatest tragedies of the modern age is the throwaway culture we have created. Instead of crafting and protecting heirlooms, and creating products which will serve future generations well, most of what we produce comes with “planned obsolescence” or by nature of its abundance, cheapness, and lack of aesthetic beauty is considered disposable. We need to rediscover again the virtues of master craftsmanship, and the fix-it mend-it mentality which served previous generations so well.
We must value each family member and learn family cohesion
(I am adapting this slightly to refer to communities and not just families).
Each member and resident bring unique skills, passions, joys, expertise, and stories to a community. Each person must be valued and respected by all other members - for no one is insignificant, and although opinions, values, and preferences may differ, such differences must be tolerated, accommodated, and even embraced if division and strife are to be warned off.
Every member has dignity and something to offer the community. Yes, there will be those with more influence and perhaps more to offer, but everyone can play their part. Opportunities need to be provided for those easily marginalised or forgotten to contribute to the community and thus feel a part of its membership. Such a community where everyone has a role and feels valued is healthy, vibrant, and resilient.
The ancestors set the example in appreciating and preserving our places, and our homes
Our ancestors may be gone, but their legacies live on. The very fact our communities still exist is a testament to their life work and their stewarding well what they had in this particular place. The elderly who remain often have been rooted in this place for many decades and know it intimately. They can remember the names, faces, and stories of former inhabitants who shaped the community and place into what it now is. They know the idiosyncrasies of the place and community that are necessary to understand in order to live well and convivially, and they have witnessed and endured cycles of boom and bust and thus have the necessary resilience and fortitude needed for long term commitment and a vision of hope. We need to sit at their feet and learn from them before their memories, wisdom, and stories perish with them.
And then the onus is on us who remain to build and preserve a historical memory that others can one day view and learn from. In this digital age where so much remains obscure, inaccessible, and digitally corruptible, it is vitally important to leave behind physical records, photographs, drawings, and letters that can one day be archived and studied by all.
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