We’re just back from a family holiday – and very enjoyable it was too. Not only the company, but also doing a bit of following Paul around in Corinth and Athens and other historical stuff – rather a lot of it lying around Greece.
To the words ‘enjoyable’ and ‘holiday’, I guess you could add others like ‘pleasure’ and ‘fun’ and ‘craic’ and ‘play’ etc.
Life is full to bursting with pleasures is it not? Each of us has our particular sources of pleasure. We are embodied creatures, each sense attuned to the physical world and able to connect with the joy and beauty of that world.
What are some pleasures that you enjoy from the physical creation ? Here are some of mine:
- a hug from a loved one
- the smell of the hot earth after long-awaited rainfall
- jumping into a crystal-clear azure sea
- splitting the fairway with a drive when you need a good one [golf obviously being the highest and purest form of enjoyment known to humankind]
- sharing a good red wine with friends over a meal
- tucking into a big plate of Linsen mit Spätzle made to a secret German recipe (it’s a lot nicer than it looks, honest!)
- hiking to the top of a mountain on a clear Irish summer’s day and drinking in the view
- singing along with your daughter trying to remember all the words of Dylan’s Desolation Row
- getting engrossed in a great story whether film, TV or book
- finishing a piece of writing that hangs together
And so the list could go on and on …..
And yet, if asceticism is an intrinsic Christian response to the material world, does not all talk of pleasure for Christians have a double-edged feel? To abandon ourselves to the pursuit of pleasure is to love the world and what it gives me. It is a form of selfish indulgence that also ignores vast inequalities and injustices.
Holidays are for the rich who have the luxury of planning their lives and the funds to travel to places that they are welcomed. Golf, wine, good food, hobbies, sport, books, computers and leisure in general are unimaginable luxuries to much of the world’s population.
So a Christian ascetic will tend to reject the frivolity and self-indulgence of enjoying the pleasures the material world offers. If you, like me, only have a little streak of asceticism, maybe it manifests itself in a vague sense of guilt after taking a holiday? All that time (and money) just to relax and enjoy ourselves? (help me out here if you can!)
But it’s here that other Christians say ‘NO!’ to such guilt. God has created this ‘very good’ world. He has given us senses of sight, smell, touch, taste and hearing. To reject pleasure is to reject the goodness of the creator and the life he offers.
Taste and see that the Lord is good! (Ps 34)
Good consumption enjoys the blessings of God’s creation; it is grateful, celebrating the created world around us and the rich diversity of experience it offers. We need to consume to live and God calls us to fruitful and full life. God is the ultimate hedonist who created pleasure.
Is such a tension simply contradictory? How can asceticism and enjoyment of God-given creation co-exist? Do you feel a pull from one to the other, enjoying a feast at a good restaurant one day yet uneasy at the extravagance looking at the bill the next? What counts as greedy self-indulgence and what is ‘good consumption’? How the heck can such questions be negotiated without falling into petty legalism on the one hand and thoughtless pursuit of selfish pleasure on the other hand?
Comments, as ever, welcome.
[All this btw is to seamlessly set up Laura Hartman's next chapter of The Christian Consumer on embracing creation.]
Reading about an evangelical Christian being sacked from South Tipperary County Council for persistent evangelism and subsequently winning the court case, prompts some (wildly generalised) thoughts. Please do add your own to a conversation – these are just descripitve musings ‘out loud’ rather than value judgements. Perhaps you will disagree or want to add your thoughts. I’m no lawyer and could be off on a tangent here:
First, there is a strong cultural strand to this story; it just would not have happened in Belfast with long familiarity with evangelicalism. Now I don’t know Mr McAteer and how he does evangelism. There are winsome ways of sharing the gospel and there are ways that I imagine could get people’s backs up (monologuing etc). But however done, Mr McAteer’s behaviour was interpreted as culturally alien. Irish Catholic culture tends to have a deep-seated suspicion of personal talk of Jesus and the Bible, it is, for many, much too ‘in your face’. If Mr McAteer had been a passionate Tipp GAA man who always talked hurling, I somehow doubt he’d have lost his job.
Second, here’s equality legislation working in favour of minority religious views and associated behaviour (evangelism). The ruling took the view that John McAteer was dismissed not because of anything to do with his work, but that he refused to stop talking to colleagues and members of the public about Jesus during work hours.
Now this is an interesting interpretation of European legislation: someone’s practice of religion is covered within the Employment Equality Acts. In other words, evangelism (seeking to persuade, communicate and tell the gospel) is actually protected in the workplace. Do you see implications for this at your work? What, for example, are implications for those in health care or counselling, where (as I understand it) there are relatively strict guidelines about ‘talking about God’ with patients / clients? What about in a corporate setting – is ‘religion’ out of bounds at the lunch table in Google or Intel?
Third, reading between the lines, it seems that the management of South Tipp Co Co took the view that insisting on talking about Christianity was seen as inappropriate, out-of-place and socially awkward.
In other words, their reaction pretty well mirrors that of most contemporary evangelicals towards evangelism.
In the past, public evangelism was a primary marker of evangelicals. I’m talking about door-to-door, street work, tract distribution, mission campaigns etc. While they haven’t disappeared altogether, like McAteer, those that continue to engage in evangelism with strangers in a public setting are in the small minority and tend to make most other evangelicals as uncomfortable as the management of South Tipperary County Council.
Comments, as ever, welcome.
I’ve been trying to make space to read some novels this summer – they tend to be ones recommended by the progeny.
Just finished The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski.
Stephen King says, in his typically sparse prose, that ‘I flat out loved this.’ I like Stephen King (especially his wonderful little book on writing) and have to concur – this is a gem.
I ain’t going to give anything away, ‘cept to say that you won’t look at a dog the same way after reading this book.
Unforgettable: lovingly written, ruthlessly honest, Shakesperian in its tragic scope, brilliant in characterisation (especially the mute Edgar, but all the Sawtelles are richly drawn).
Happy it is not, true it is.
Laura Hartman identifies 4 Christian responses to the challenge of consumerism and then unpacks each in detail. She wants to draw on Christian tradition to develop a wise response to contemporary consumerism.
This approach is helpful – it captures how complex the challenge of consumerism is. There is no one obvious ‘Christian response’ but there is depth and riches in the Christian faith by which to think about and engage with consumerism.
Here’s the first one:
1) ‘To Avoid Sin’
This is renunciation of consumption: a call to counter-cultural living as a route to holiness and virtue. Over-consumption is both physically and spiritually damaging.
This is a form of resistance to consumerism that takes the form of frugality, asceticism, self-denial, simplicity, avoidance of complicity in the sin of unneccessary consumption.
Being spiritual is to avoid getting sucked up the desires of the world.
This response has a rather long pedigree since it begins with Jesus and his call to pursue the kingdom of God before material needs.
Hartman takes three representative voices from Church History:
Francis of Assisi (no intro needed): a radical life committed to prayer, preaching and poverty. He ate little, fasted regularly and wore simple clothing. This ‘avoidance of sin’ was controversial then and even more so after his death.
Francis’ asceticism was a path to holy non-attachment – an act of resistance against the pull of the material world. He is reputed to have said that if he took more than he needed, he would be robbing from the poor.
John Woolman (1720-72, Quaker Abolitionist, who urged avoidance in complicity in the slave trade. For example he refused to use silver, sugar and molasses due to their inextricable link to slavery. (All new to me, sounds like a fascinating character.)
If Francis pursued poverty as an ideal, Woolman sought simplicity. This is far more than a ‘simple lifestyle’ that yet still fits comfortably in the prevailing culture, for the Quakers it was plainness in dress and active detachment from possessions. Woolman resisted luxury since it contradicted God’s will. Luxury is a fruit of evil – it results from overuse of God’s resources (including slaves). Like Francis (and Sider), accumulation of luxury is at the expense of the poor and is sinful.
Ron Sider of Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger among many other things. His clarion call has been for rich (Western) Christians to simplify their lives in order to better help the poor.
Sider’s prophetic style ministry has been designed to shock Christians complicit in a consumer culture into confronting global poverty. If they really believed the Bible they would divest themselves of affluence and develop a passion for justice. It is evangelicals, who claim to believe the Bible, who are ‘liberals’ when it comes to interpreting what it says on wealth. His call is one to repentance.
Beyond individual responsibility, Sider argues that those who have benefitted from affluence while knowing it is built on systemic injustices and yet do nothing are guilty of sin against God and neighbour.
Sider’s way to be free of sin (or complicity in sin) is for individuals to practice a graduated tithe based on the bare minimum to live on ($30,000 income = $6,300 tithe based on an early chart in 1997).
His point is what should Christians measure their lifestyle on? Rather than taking their base against the norm of a capitalist consumer culture they should begin in comparison to the world’s poor.
Hartman sums up this ascetic tradition well: saying NO to your own desires is saying YES to something better. At its best it is a vision of human flourishing (rather than a negative denial of life).
The ‘avoidance of sin’ or ascetic tradition is not without its critics – but Hartman (rightly) contends it is essential to any truly Christian understanding of consumption.
Here’s my brief observation / question – the ascetic tradition, despite its long and honourable legacy, now seems to be so marginal in Western Christianity as to be almost invisible. It appears to have been swamped by hyper-consumerism and technology as to appear not merely old-fashioned but almost incomprehensible in the modern church …
Or am I missing something?
Laura Hartman contends that Christian ethical reflection (on consumerism) is not about defining whether particular types of consumption constitute low moral or social status, the real purpose is to discern what is right.
(I liked her example of cheap, low-cut jeans having low social status and low moral status!)
Moral questions around consumption relate to concrete questions around its physicality: its extraction, transportation, production and the environmental and social impact that follows.
She’s concerned about how buying, having or using the item may impact a person’s spiritual condition and his/her relationships with others.
Consumption ethics, is, at bottom, a species of stewardship ethics, asking questions such as: What does God intend for humans in their interactions with the material world? What is creation, and what are humans to do with it? How are humans to relate well to one another concerning the proper use of the material conditions of life? (15)
Coffee is a classic example that could apply to all consumption: at least 4 ethical realms come into play
i) The impact on the individual consumer – health & well-being. Coffee like most products has mixed attributes here. Overconsumption of most things leads to bad outcomes.
ii) Immediate social impact: coffee is consumed mostly in social settings (cafes, coffee shops, work etc). This gives work and income; it facilitates relationships, but regular consumption of over-priced drinks can mount up to significant strain on finances.
iii) Impact on others the consumer does not know and can barely imagine: regional managers of coffee shop chains; executives running large companies; marketeers etc. Consumer preference for Fair Trade coffee begins to impact the growers in getting better prices for their raw materials. Global demand for coffee can mean land-grabs and the ruthless expulsion of native indian communities (I added this last sentence see also this post by Daniel Kirk on ‘The Dark Side of Chocolate’).
iv) Impact on the non-human world: Hartman quotes a study that concludes that the unquenchable Western desire for coffee has had devastating effects as vast tracts of rich bio-diverse rain forest are cleared for coffee plantations. Each stage of subsequent production from roasting, to packaging, to transportation all contribute to environmental impact.
Hartman’s purpose is simply to illustrate how all consumption is an ethical act on multiple levels.
Now, even to begin to think about our daily consumption in those terms is, I propose, a radical shift from our default Western assumption that all the stuff in the supermarket just ‘is’.
It is there for our convenience and need – always has been, always will be. We don’t begin to think about the people and processes by which it arrived on the shelf. The only thing we have to think about it is what to consume (depending on choice and money). Ethics and morality belong in church, they don’t have anything much to do with shopping – except maybe for gross conspicious consumption of luxury goods or when ‘we’ are ‘ripped off’ in the prices we pay compared to somewhere else.
In other words, our thinking about consumption is generally self-centered and shallow. And it is very much in the interests of many major companies to keep it that way, especially around points iii) and iv).
So how to begin to ‘think Christianly’ about consumption without ending up in ‘paralysis by analysis’ every time you go shopping? Hartman begins to go there next.
Comments, as ever, welcome.
Towards the end he has a reflection on work and the future, when for many work is something to be endured and lacks any telos.
What then is work that carries spiritual significance – even into the new age to come?
He rejects a sacred / secular divide that sees explicitly ‘Christian’ work as that which really matters – stuff like preaching, evangelism, Bible study etc. Behind such a split is a dualism between the ‘spiritual’ (good) and the ‘material’ (bad).
Jesus’ resurrection from the dead and the outpouring of the eschatological Spirit are both powerful indicators of how the future is already here in the present. Stevens sees continuity (not annhilation) between this world and the new creation.
Stevens goes to three key Pauline texts on work. The eternal significance of our work lies in relationship with the living resurrected Lord.
1 Cor 3:12-15 ‘if anyone builds on this foundation[Christ] their work will be shown for what it is ..’
1 Cor 13:13 ‘The greatest of these remain: faith, hope and love’
1 Cor 15:58 ‘Always give yourself fully to the work of the Lord for you know that your labour in the Lord is not in vain’
There is, Stevens argues, then hope of redemption of not only our lives or of creation but also our work. The damage done by negative work – the environmental, social, cultural and political scars left by destructive work – may yet be transfigured in the new creation.
How’s this for a positive vision of daily work in light of future hope to think about next Monday morning?
Clearly, through our daily work we leave our mark on the cosmos and our environment, on government, culture, neighborhoods, families, and even on the principalities and powers. The Bible hints that in some way beyond our imagination our marks are permanent. The theological truth that undergirds this fascinating and challenging line of exploration is the statement that Christ is the firstborn of all creation (Col 1:15) and firstborn from the grave (1:18). If Christ is truly the firstborn of all creation and the firstborn from the grave, then all work has eternal consequences, whether homemaking or being a stockbroker. This brings new meaning to those whose toil is located in so-called secular work – in the arts, education, business, politics, the environment, and the home. Not only are ordinary Christians priests of creation past and present; they, along with missionaries, pastors, and Christian educators, are shaping the future of creation in some significant way. This means that we are invited in Christ to leave beautiful marks on creation, on the environment, family, city, workplace, and nation. (158-9)
How do you feel when shopping in a supermarket?
Just normal life, thousands of products sitting there (magically) to be chosen at will?
Or do feel like Laura Hartman in her opening in her book The Christian Consumer?
At times I find shopping to be just short oppressive. In stores, narrow aisles with hundreds of brightly colored products loom over me as if they are about to collapse under the weight of the choices they represent. Long after others have grabbed their selections and moved on, I might stand in front of the vegetables lost in thought, my mind looping through environmental factors, the family budget, and the claims of my community as I choose among produce that might be local, mid-range, or international; organic low-spray, or conventional; fresh, frozen, dried, or canned; nutrient dense and gourmet or quotidian yet still nutritionally sound. After I make the selection, I might still wander the store, trying to determine whether to settle on the less-than-ideal item in my hand or to search for an organic, fair trade, less expensive, or locally made version elsewhere, already anticipating my buyer’s remorse before I’m through the checkout line. Is it really so simple for those other shoppers I see in the store, filling their baskets and moving on with their evening plans?
In what follows she outlines a Christian way of thinking about the moral, creational, relational and industrial complexities of modern consumption. This looks like a really interesting book. But we’ll get to the theology and ethics later.
Back to the question. What for you are some of the issues, emotions and questions floating around that most challenging of activities – shopping?