As we sweatily packed things to take to the church building today, my wife said, "The next time I start to buy something, stop me." Of course, I won't stop her and truth be told, I am by far, the most acquisitive of the two of us. It's not that I'm a big materialist---or at least I'm not the fevered kind of materialist to which I like to compare myself in order to salve my guilty conscience. Books are my weakness, of course, and I appall my wife (and sometimes myself) by how easily I cave in to the temptation of any book that hooks me.
But like my wife, when these rummage or garage sales come along, I'm astounded to meet up again with the long-forgotten items. Their appeal now is lost on me, but once they caused me to readily part with my cash. They make me ask myself, "What was I thinking?"
Lots of times, I suppose, I was thinking that something about this object could service my delusion of self-sufficiency. Often, the things I buy are little more than offerings to the god of me. That isn't a pleasant admission, but it's true.
The other day, a new acquaintance of mine and I were railing against the insanity of churches having lots of expensive real estate and decorative goo-gobs while millions are going hungry. It's a line of thought worthy of consideration, to be sure. But what's good for the goose is also good for the gander: What about all the goo-gobs I buy? How might they be used for better purposes? Better, that is, than genuflecting at the altar of me.
Jesus had something to say about all of this, of course. He told a story about a man whose land produced a bumper crop. He resolved to pull down his barns and build bigger ones to store his excess food. Then, the guy tells himself, I'll sit back and relax. Then, Jesus says:
But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?'[Luke 12:13-21]
That puts things in perspective. Like the ubiquitous Mr. Anonymous once said, "The U-Haul doesn't follow your hearse to the cemetery."
I've come to believe that showing restraint while shopping and giving items away for the rummage sale can be like sticking forks into the devil. They can be acts of rebellion against the evil of materialism. And they can be ways of getting myself free from stuff so that I can live for God, provide for my family, and give both myself and my money to the cause of Christ in the world.
My guess is that my relationship to material goods will always be a bit like the relationship of an AA-enrollee to alcohol. For as long as I live, especially in America, I will be a recovering materialist. But my prayer is that I'll always be in recovery and always moving toward God's way of doing things, away from my addiction to Sam's Club.
No comments:
Post a Comment