‘I downsized my life’

Bob Holman reflects on how social reformer and evangelist F.B Meyer has inspired him to choose less in order to offer more

A well-paid professorship. A detached house and two cars. I had got there, but I was dissatisfied. I could not square my lifestyle with the Jesus who lived humbly and gave priority to the alienated and excluded.

So in 1976, I moved with our family to a nearby council estate in Bath to establish a community project. After ten years, my Scottish wife Annette and I moved to the deprived housing scheme of Easterhouse in Glasgow, where we were to live for nearly 20 years. There we founded Family Action in Rogerfield and Easterhouse (FARE), a charitable project aiming to enhance the lives of local people. Activities ranged from teaching computing skills to befriending the lonely and taking kids on simple holidays.

The projects we founded in Bath and then Glasgow have not wholly sorted out the lives of everyone who approached them. But recently, a follow-up of many of the vulnerable teenagers who we have worked with showed that as they moved into adulthood, most kept out of trouble. Last year, the police said that our project had contributed to a 42 per cent drop in gang incidents.

Sometimes people ask what the cost has been. Yes, we’ve occasionally been threatened; we’ve worked long hours; we’ve had numerous knocks on the door. But the gains – particularly seeing disadvantaged youngsters making something of their lives – are greater than any minor personal losses. One 19 year old was on probation and unemployed. Years later he is the leader of the Frontier Youth Trust. And not least, we have found friendships as never before.

The Faithworks and F.B. Meyer connection
In my late 60s, I retired from FARE. We moved within Glasgow to be near our grandchildren. Nearby was a tower block that housed asylum seekers with whom we began to enjoy friendships. And then, it might be said that I met F. B. Meyer, through the Faithworks Movement. The themes of challenging lifestyle and community, which had shaped my previous 30 years, were to be continued in a different way.

Some years before, I had been encouraged to write a biography of the life of F.B. Meyer (1847-1929). I declined on the grounds that he was already well known as an evangelical preacher. Then one day I was having a coffee with Steve Chalke at Church.co.uk, Waterloo, where the Faithworks Movement’s offices are located, and I noticed a plaque to Meyer in the church. Steve explained that not only was Faithworks based on the very site of Meyer’s church (formerly known as Christ Church) but that he was also in possession of Meyer’s papers.

On studying the documents, I discovered that Meyer was also a radical social reformer. He had evangelised and provided welfare services in the very streets where Faithworks and Church.co.uk now do the same. Inspired, I set to work on the book.

Motivated by Meyer
Meyer lived at a time when senior church ministers often lived in style, with large incomes, sizable houses and horse-drawn carriages. What impressed me about Meyer was that he took a huge drop in salary when he moved to Christ Church, ate sparingly but healthily and chose to travel by bus. He received an enormous income from the sales of his many books, yet he took not a penny for himself. The proceeds financed his welfare work. Thousands of mainly working class people were drawn to his church.

Meyer took seriously Jesus’ words: ‘Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth’ and ‘You cannot serve God and wealth’ (Matthew 6: 19, 24, NRSV). He advised his flock to retain enough of their earnings for their families, to keep some for old age and to give the remainder to God.

Choosing less
Although he did not use the words himself, Meyer lived modestly. His lifestyle was such as not to distance him from people on low incomes. Can such a way of living be considered relevant or sensible in our 21st century Western culture? Consider with me once again the state that we find our world in today…

We live in a society dominated by materialism and greed. Those who can afford it (and some who can not) spend large amounts on furniture, clothes, electronic goods, leisure, eating out and drinking. The rich show off with expensive cars, designer outfits, a second home or a holiday home abroad. Money and what it buys has become the centre of everything. The Selfridges department store’s recent marketing slogan says it all: ‘Buy me, I’ll change your life.’

Long hours earning more money are taken on at the cost of family life. Of course, some parents have to do overtime just to survive. But for others it is to satisfy their material lust. I read of a wealthy financier who is at his desk by 7.30am and often returns home after midnight. His obsession with financial deals is such that he missed both the summer and Christmas holidays with his four children. ‘We can buy everything we want – except time,’ he reflects.

Greed blunts social compassion. Sir Muir Russell, the principal of Glasgow University, has accepted a pay rise, which means he has an annual salary and pension benefits of £234,000. This in a Scotland where 23 per cent of households survive on under £10,000 a year. Russell is not alone. The rich take too much, leaving the poor with too little. Those at the top are so intoxicated with money that they have little concern for those they harm.

The growing divide between rich and poor is reflected in territorial boundaries. Research shows the wealthy and affluent increasingly live in different districts from those with lower incomes. Britain is a fragmented society.

Your choices matter
So what can we offer our greedy, often uncaring, divided land? I am not suggesting we all move to deprived areas to start projects. But we can all choose to live modestly. I do not mean being poor, just as Jesus was not poor. Rather I mean a life lived according to need not greed. Journey with me in considering the following…

• Your income. Needs vary but does anyone really require more than £40,000 a year? I am a member of Easterhouse Baptist Church, where I estimate that only one or two people have incomes in the £40,000 range. That of a large number would be around the average national median of £23,000 with some earning well below this figure. The church is building an extension and all members have given sacrificially to reach the £200,000 that allows building work to start.
  I am not arguing that talented individuals should opt out of responsible posts. Meyer led a mega-church on a very moderate wage. Others will prefer to take a large salary while systematically giving much of it away.
• Your housing. Modest living might well entail restricting the size of our homes. We live in a two-bedroomed ex-council house. It is small but sufficient. Our grandson regards the second bedroom as his and says: ‘This is my second home.’
  There is also a strong case to be made for choosing to live in cheaper areas. While living in a second storey flat in Easterhouse, I visited a prosperous village in southern England. For a laugh, I asked a local estate agent what I would be able to afford in the village. The answer was a dog kennel. Clearly, houses in up-market areas will increase more in value so living downtown implies financial loss. But the modest liver is not obsessed with economic gain.
• Your lifestyle. Reading the Christmas newsletters, I was amazed that the highlight for many was the annual holiday abroad or even a world tour. Of course, people have to travel abroad for business, to visit relatives, for Christian purposes. But cheaper holidays close to home are available.
  Modest living may also imply rejecting the consumerist god and not buying plasma TVs, the latest mobile phones, iPods, expensive wines and four wheel drives. Could you live without yours?

The impact of modest living
What are the advantages to modest living? Before I answer, a short aside. Please don’t think I am an evangelical scrooge who wants to spread misery. During the war, when my family survived the London blitz, we faced shortages of food, electricity and water, and finally the destruction of our home. We were gripped by anxiety. My experience is that unhappiness is associated both with not having enough money and goods and also with having so much that cash and material items become ends in themselves. Contentment comes from having what is sufficient for our needs. Modest living really can affect your level of happiness.

Modest living also challenges the prevailing domination of materialistic greed. It demonstrates that the god of Mammon can be undermined by an emphasis on people not things, with families having more time for each other. Furthermore, those who do so are saying by their actions: “I will have less so that those in need may have more.”

Those who opt for smaller homes in cheaper areas will tend to be closer to and see more of their neighbours. When I lived in Easterhouse, a talented Christian couple opted to move into the same street. Years later, one of their sons goes to the local school and the other to the playgroup. As good neighbours and as Christians, they have won the respect of many residents in this needy place.
Consider the impact on our environment if we took up Jesus’ challenge to live modestly. We would consume less electricity, gas, petrol, food, clothes and all the other resources that will soon be in short supply. We could start to reduce the amount of emissions which contribute to adverse climate change.

The case for modest living is not just one that applies to people of faith. The fact that it can help to sustain the planet makes it appeal to those of no religious beliefs as well – our society’s relative willingness to start to live in more ‘green’ ways is an indication of this. Nonetheless, I hope that Christians will lead the way in choosing less, instead of more. After all, Jesus said we should be the salt of the earth, and living modestly is a means both of improving society and also of upholding the values of the Kingdom.

Bob Holman is the author of F.B. Meyer: If I Had a Hundred Lives..... published by Christian Focus Publications, 2007. www.christianfocus.com