The Walk of Disruption

I have been doing some tidying up and tackling my bookshelves because, as I am noticing, I have many, many books and CDs.  So, I thought the practical solution (rather than getting more bookshelves) was to sort through the collection and cull.  As it turned out, I was not very good at it.  ‘You just never know’, I would ponder as I considered each book, ‘I might just need/want to re-read it.’  And then there was the sentimental pile – I still have my Year 9 copy of To Kill a Mockingbird with my underlinings!  That book was a revelation.  

After a sorting Sunday afternoon, the take to the Op shop pile was disappointingly small.  The CDs also presented a dilemma – I no longer have a CD player at home or in the car.  Because with my online service, I can find and listen to any piece of music I am interested in at any moment.  I even have a twice-weekly curated play list prepared for me based on my listening preferences!  What to do. 

I started to ponder change.  I was reminded of the story of Kodak that is presented as a warning tale in management courses.  Kodak were the leaders in the photography world back in the day when we carefully threaded that fine, light sensitive film into a camera.  However, the leaders of Kodak failed to appreciate the impact of digital technology for their market.  In the end the Kodak we knew faced bankruptcy.  For whatever reason, the leaders did not understand or were not ready or able to embrace the disruption of a market changed by the digital age. 

In its strictest Oxford Dictionary sense, disruption means a ‘disturbance or problem which interrupts an event, activity of process’.  The business world, I think, were early to identify what this means in an operational sense.  Over time we have come to see that disruption is brought about by new ideas, innovations and technologies.  It challenges established ways of doing things and can lead to the displacement of what is known – and, perhaps, what is loved.  In the business world it can be noticeable when a smaller organisation enter an established market and through their innovation they are able to topple a bigger player. 

Disruption also brings a coping challenge.  We can embrace the change that presents itself, hold it at a careful distance, or ignore the signs the times are presenting.  I am reminded of the ongoing impact of Vatican II.  As a Church we continue to grapple with the wisdom that emerged from that unique event in our shared history.  Some of our fellow Catholics have embraced what emerged, some hold the insights at a distance and some amongst us ignore them.  

Using this 21st century language, we could also describe Jesus as a disruptor.  Through the way he lived and worked, he drew many close.  But there were some who were not ready for his message and way of life.  We may observe this as we journey with the gospel throughout the liturgical year.  The struggle to identify how Jesus fits into an already long and sacred people history.  The challenge of opening eyes to a new way to being together: a community of people who have an ear for the suffering, an eye for the poor and a heart for God.  An uncomfortable message that encourages a leaning into the times of rejection and suffering, those necessarily fragile and vulnerable times, but holding the quiet confidence that something new will emerge.  The gentle, persistent insistence that the life of faith requires being part of responding generously to the needs of the world.  And all these years later, we grapple in our own context with questions, some of which were posed by the earliest people of faith.  Who Jesus is for us?  Where is God in our world?  How are we to live as a people of faith?  How can the wisdom of this ancient tradition be relevant to the complexities of our times?  How are we to be as Church?

There is a story in this week’s Tablet about a parent who approached communion with his daughter who had asked him to go to Mass with her: ‘When he went up to the priest to receive Communion he said, sotto voce: “Father, I’ll be fine with whatever you decide to do, but I need to be honest with you.  It has been over 20 years since I have been at Mass.”  The priest held up the host and placed it in the palm of the man’s hand, smiled and said, “Welcome home”.’  The writer goes on to observe that ‘this is the Church that is the big tent, the field hospital, the sanctity in a turbulent world.  This is Francis’ Church’.  (Extracted from The Jesuit Disruptor: A Personal Portrait of Pope Francis by Michael W. Higgins, in The Tablet 14 September, 2024, p.6).

Turbulence, disruption, our world is complex and fast moving.  Nature is a powerful reminder to us that we cannot stop the rhythm of life.  Leaves will fall, blossoms will grow, light will emerge from darkness.  The Church will grow and change because the people of God are growing and changing. 

And so it is with us.  Our lives will be stopped short from time-to-time by illness, disappointment and deep, deep loss.  There may be times when we will feel that we have lost our way.  We will look for home.  Even the light of day may appear dark.  It is into all these life moments that the God of Israel continues to speak.  That the Jesus of the villages of Caesarea and Philippi walks with us.  That no matter where we might be on the continuum of belief and hope there is a place for us.  An invitation to walk in the presence of the Lord in the land of our living.  

And my books, well it was time to let many of them go – even To Kill a Mockingbird.  Because by letting some of them go, it allowed me to welcome new treasures! 

By Cathy Jenkins

Published: 13 September 2024