As a child in the Mennonite community, Nomi has learned that in order to secure heavenly salvation, she must eschew most of the pleasures of life on earth, from smoking and sex to owning new appliances or listening to modern music. As she grows up, Nomi chafes against this austere worldview and starts to do drugs, hoard records, and have sex with her boyfriend Travis. But she also rebels in more subtle ways: the book is full of moments of natural beauty and unexpected ecstasy, which show Nomi’s tendency to appreciate the world for its own merits, rather than simply as a prelude to a glorious afterlife. While Nomi ultimately loses her faith in the church, she gains a new kind of faith in the joys of everyday life.
In order to convince followers to devote their mental energy to God and the afterlife that awaits them, Mennonite philosophy stigmatizes most forms of worldly enjoyment. The church places strong prohibitions on drinking, smoking, and extramarital sex. Additionally, Mennonites are supposed to have limited contact with modern life; although Nomi grows up in a fairly modern household, some members of her community still view appliances, air conditioning, and even modern clothes as sinful. Nomi’s parents, Ray and Trudie, refuse to even say the word “party” because to them, it connotes sin.
As a child, Nomi believes in the importance of these prohibitions so devoutly that they cause her serious anxiety. Observing the actions of her rebellious older sister Tash, Nomi constantly worries that they will be separated in the afterlife when her sister goes to Hell. After Tash runs away from the family, Nomi has nightmares for months imagining her eternal doom. However, when she becomes an adolescent herself, Nomi chafes at her restricted life just as her sister did, and she rebels in increasingly dramatic ways. Nomi spends much of her time sharing joints with other disillusioned teenagers or cruising the countryside with her boyfriend, Travis. She wears clothes and makeup considered inappropriate by church leaders, and by the end of the novel she has stopped attending school.
While Nomi’s penchant for mischief may seem like typical teenage behavior, she also rebels in more subtle ways. Nomi lingers on unexpected natural beauty or shared moments with others, like the beauty of a landfill she encounters on a nighttime drive with Ray. While swimming with Travis in a lake contaminated with gas, Nomi lights small fires in the water and evocatively describes “the rainbow pools of fire in the pits, the smell of smoking stubble, the hot wind, dying chickens, the night, my childhood.” Even though these moments are hardly picturesque, they fill Nomi with an appreciation for the world that surrounds her. This pleasure itself is a form of rebellion, in that she values the beauty of this world more than the contemplation of the next one.
Nomi eventually becomes disillusioned with the Mennonite church not because it prohibits certain activities, but because it discourages people from cherishing everyday life. By the novel’s end, Nomi has broken up with Travis and retreated from her hard-partying lifestyle, which she realizes is as self-destructive as it is fun. However, the moments of joy she experiences along the way stay with her.
As she prepares to leave town for good, Nomi relates a childhood memory in which, happening to be in a good mood, she tells her teacher that she wants to fly or dance; the teacher reprimands her, saying that “life was not a dream, and dancing was a sin.” Nomi rejects the teacher’s outlook entirely, saying that joyful moments like this should be appreciated and that “this world is good enough for you because it has to be.” Although she has lost the religious belief that grounded her during her childhood, Nomi has gained new faith in the beauty and sanctity of everyday life.
For Nomi, losing her childhood confidence in Mennonite principles is a wrenching experience; her rebellious escapades stem in part from a desire to find meaning in a world where God is no longer certain. However, over the course of the novel Nomi learns to value the joys of everyday life, upon which her community places little value. This new outlook allows her to regain the sense of purpose that she originally found in religious belief.
Christian Salvation vs. Earthly Joy ThemeTracker
Christian Salvation vs. Earthly Joy Quotes in A Complicated Kindness
There’s an invisible force that exerts a steady pressure on our words like a hand to an open, spurting wound. The town office building has a giant filing cabinet full of death certificates that say choked to death of his own anger or suffocated from unexpressed feelings of unhappiness.
The only thing I needed to know was that we were all going to live forever, together, happily, in heaven and with God, and without pain and sadness and sin. And in my town that is the deal. It’s taken for granted. We’ve been hand-picked. We’re on a fast track, singled out, and saved.
I ended up saying stupid stuff like I just want to be myself, I just want to do things without wandering if they’re a sin or not. I want to be free. I want to know what it’s like to be forgiven by another human being (I was stoned, obviously) and not have to wait around all my life anxiously wondering if I’m an okay person or not and having to die to find out.
She once asked me and the other girls in our class if we were gymnasts, but really fat ones, would we think we could just go out and win an Olympic medal one day? No? Well, that’s what Christianity is all about, she said.
I didn’t know why she was crying, until I heard my mom say honey, what is it? What’s wrong? And Tash said: I think I’ll go crazy. I can’t stand it. It’s all a fucking lie. It’s killing me! Mom, it really is! And then something happened that took me completely by surprise, I heard my mom say, I know honey, I know it is.
We drove to the pits and rinsed the purple gas off in the water which made it beautiful and we floated around in gassy rainbows for hours talking about stuff and lighting the gas with Travis’s lighter so it was like we were in hell. Rainbow pools of fire in the pits, the smell of smoking stubble, the hot wind, dying chickens, the night, my childhood.
And we counted cars with American plates—twenty-seven. On their way to watch The Mouth read Revelations by candlelight in the fake church while the people of the real town sat in a field of dirt cheering on collisions.
When I got to school I told my teacher I was on cloud nine. I told her I was so happy I thought I could fly. I told her I felt so great I wanted to dance like Fred Astaire.
She said life was not a dream. And dancing was a sin. Now get off it and sit back down. It was the first time in my life I had been aware of my own existence.