Thrutopian storytelling

A new word caught my attention: thrutopia. Not utopia or dystopia but thrutopia. Not false hope or looming fear but a future of travelling through. That feels like a timely word and a necessary vision these days.

The word itself has been around for nearly a decade. It was first suggested by the environmental philosopher Rupert Read, who has a way of changing the conversation. In June 2018 he prompted a change in journalistic policy at the BBC by publicly refusing to debate with a climate change denier. Since then, the BBC has no longer counterbalanced established science with political opinion. An excellent thrutopian move.

Thrutopian movement 

The term has generated a movement of writers and thinkers who are taking climate change seriously while imagining positive ways forward. Thrutopian writing tells stories that present practical, tangible steps through our present and coming challenges into a hope-filled, possible future.

I first heard this word from the writer Katherine Stansfield, one of the editors of the recently-launched Bending The Arc Magazine on Substack. She is a poet, novelist and, to my delight, part of my local literary scene. She says she wants to focus her work on stories that inspire hope because the stories we tell ourselves are important. We become the questions we ask.

Thrutopia offers realistic processes to build a liveable future grounded in gratitude, awareness and presence. Read, Stansfield and other advocates invite creatives into this work because their stories can change our landscapes. Thrutopian writing helps us imagine more connected, cohesive ways forward that honour local communities, habitats and the rhythm of life itself.

New word, old habit

In 2006, Geez Magazine started with similar goals. Its editors were determined to create space for what they called holy mischief. They published work to inspire faith-filled community living, social justice and restorative activism, and I was lucky enough to participate. As I’ve tried to do here in the Christian Courier, I wrote stories about my children, my church, my kitchen and my garden, as well as my thoughts about art, technology and theology.

There is something hard and beautiful about writing these stories. Hard because it can seem foolish in the face of world crises to talk about planting turnips. But it’s beautiful because I believe we are part of a long tradition. In different generations we find different ways of describing this work but put simply, I would say we are working to live faithfully connected.

This is Bonhoeffer’s costly grace, Eugene Peterson’s pilgrim discipleship and Dorothy Day’s one brick at a time. It’s Shane Claiborne’s irresistible revolution and the Way that Luke wrote about in the Book of Acts. Wave upon wave of reimagining the world and bringing every facet of our lives into our work. This is a good and necessary calling.

Yes, I’m preaching to myself here. It’s important to remember why we do what we do. But I’m also celebrating what we’re all trying to do together in these pages: writing, reading, sharing and remembering the creative details of our changing lives. Storytelling like this plants seeds for our faith together.