AFTER NEARLY 50 years moving from place to place—usually under cover of darkness to stay ahead of colleges claiming we still owed library fines—the Sojourners staff is finally moving to a place of our own.
We’ve been leasing space up to now, paying increasingly higher rents as the nation’s capital has become a hip and happening city. (Which began soon after we arrived in 1975. Coincidence? Not bragging, but vintage clothing stores didn’t become popular in D.C. until we showed up wearing clothing that, unbeknown to us, fit that category.)
Over time, the poor neighborhood that God called us to was overtaken by Starbucks and Target, and our office expenses went up accordingly. To be fair, maybe God wanted chain stores to provide low-cost merchandise to our underserved inner city. But what kind of god would also bring in a Bed, Bath, & Beyond?! In all our years working for justice and tenant rights, we didn’t once yearn for luxury sheets or French-made kitchen utensils. (Although, when you need Brita filters, they keep them just inside the front door. With Target, you have to go upstairs. I’m just sayin’.) When organic food stores started moving in, it was enough to make us nostalgic for buying milk at the corner liquor store. (You had to check carefully the date on the carton, because milk tended to hang around the store longer than did, say, Colt 45, which seemed to be much more in demand.)
SO IN AUGUST we’re moving. We’re calling it Sojexit, like Brexit, but with fewer catastrophic global consequences. After four decades under the thumb of landlords, we will finally be under our own thumbs, all 86 of them, if you count the interns. Our seventh and final move will be to a building we purchased. “We” meaning Sojourners, a Mennonite bank, and hundreds of supportive friends who share our commitment to justice, reconciliation, and having to empty our own trash.
Investing in a building is a better use of resources than renting, and the timing was perfect, since we needed to change the toilet paper in our old building. The men’s room has an oddly designed dispenser with no visible means of disconnection, no clear way to achieve what should be one of modern society’s simplest actions. (Isn’t there enough sadness in the world without placing complicated mechanical devices in the final sanctuary for a busy person? Must everything be an IQ test?!)
In our new building—our own building—we will not be faced with such daunting challenges. At my insistence there will be an open, 24-pack of Charmin leaning against the wall, preferably in the lobby, so visitors can quickly see that Sojourners has the practical good sense to buy in bulk, like the early settlers who would stop at Costco before their treacherous journey west.
OUR NEW building is on Capitol Hill, placing us right in the belly of the beast of American influence and power, although when you look at a street map, it’s probably closer to the lower intestine of the beast, or maybe the bladder.
Like the biblical prophets before us, we will be close to power, but not of it; we will rail against the sins of politics, but not be lured in by them; we will be a vocal and determined voice outside the walls of the political elite. Fortunately, those walls are also close to a nice bagel place, so after wielding the righteous voice of God we can get coffee and a cinnamon-raisin.
We’ll be a much-needed voice of accountability, but also a resource for those in power. For example, our experience in nonviolent resistance could have been helpful to the Democrats who recently staged a sit-in on the House floor. Sojourners has been doing sit-ins for years, and we could have shared how we keep sharp when our strength is sapped by extended periods of protest. Two words: Cheese Combos. Portable, nutritious, and easy to get through security (unless the metal detectors are set on “delicious!”). Combos make any act of civil disobedience a joy.
Plus, you can get them cheap at Target. In our old neighborhood.
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