Book Review: Here: A Spirituality of Staying in a Culture of Leaving

In the introduction to Here: A Spirituality of Staying in a Culture of Leaving, author Rev. Lydia Sohn makes a confession: “I am, by nature, a leaver.” 

I relate to this deeply. I love leaving. When I feel overwhelmed by the pressures of ministry and life, I open Google Flights. I am interested in going almost anywhere—with the notable exception of where I happen to be living at the moment. In fact, this book was purchased for me by a family member who thought I could benefit from a lesson in staying. 

Given this affinity for leaving, I was thus particularly interested to see what Sohn had to say about staying. Sohn begins by acknowledging her background as an immigrant who has moved many times for school, jobs, and other opportunities. Over time, leaving became a habit; she even admits to researching houses in other cities a mere month after moving to her current home. Along the way, Sohn encountered the Benedictine practice of stability, which demands that monks commit to one community throughout their lives. This prompted Sohn to wonder what it meant for Christians to practice stability in the modern world in which there are many reasons to leave due to necessity, opportunity, or preference. 

In Here, Sohn explores this concept of stability through stories from her own life as a Korean-American clergywoman intertwined with spiritual practices like lectio divina, a daily examen, and reflection questions. I read this book on my own, but it would be a great book to use with a discussion group thanks to the thoughtful questions and exercises Sohn includes at the end of each chapter.

Sohn begins by explaining why stability is relevant for non-Benedictine people in the here and now. As we are inundated by social media’s portrayals of places to live, work, and enjoy, we face a constant temptation to leave for a “better place.” Leaving can feel like a handy solution to problems in our current lives. It is easy to think, “If only I lived or worked at [fill-in-the-place], I would be happier.” Practicing stability, however, demands that we faithfully engage with our problems in the short-term and long-term instead of making an escape plan. In doing so, we dedicate ourselves to growth in our relationships with God and other people. 

Personally, I was struck by chapter four, “Trying Things On for Size.” Sohn provides an unlikely piece of advice for those struggling with the decision of whether to leave a place, job, or call: “Remind yourself: You can discard it. You never, ever have to stay” (emphasis in original). The key to staying, Sohn says, is knowing that you can leave. We must remember that this freedom of choice is a gift from God, and that God loves us regardless of what we choose. In order to truly discern a call to stay, we must let go of the idea that we “should” stay just because we can. Yes, God calls us to stay and put in roots; but being called to stay is not the same thing as being pressured to stay. Practicing stability is a choice, not an obligation. 

Of course, not everyone has a choice to stay, and staying is not always the right choice for those who do. Here is not a call to stay when staying brings harm, and Sohn acknowledges that there are many situations in which leaving is the best option. But Sohn reminds us that we are always called to question where we have been, why we have left (if we have), and why we may feel called to stay or leave our current community.

Ironically, as a Methodist pastor, Sohn ministers in a system of itinerancy where she is appointed to different congregations every few years. In a church governed by principles of moving, how can one maintain a commitment to staying and putting down roots? There are no easy answers to this question. Sohn herself admits to celebrating some appointments close to home and grieving others that required her to leave family and friends. She wrestles with how to live a life of stability when facing an unstable life. Near the end of the book, Sohn shares a reminder with readers that she first received from an experienced colleague: “Your rootedness is ultimately in God.” Our rootedness is in God. In the Benedictine tradition, stability requires a commitment to the same religious community for the whole of one’s life not to preclude growth, but to encourage it. In Here, Sohn reminds us that when we choose to stay, we are not choosing to remain stagnant, but rather choosing to grow deeper roots in ourselves, in our communities, and in God, trusting that it is these very roots that enable us to bear fruit.