From Lord to Label: how consumerism undermines our faith

The postmodern Christian blog Out of Ur has a post up on consumerism undermining faith. It’s well worth a read.

Christian critiques of consumerism usually focus on the dangers of idolatry—the temptation to make material goods the center of life rather than God. This, however, misses the real threat consumerism poses. My concern is not materialism, strictly speaking, or even the consumption of goods—as contingent beings, we must consume resources to survive. The problem is not consuming to live, but rather living to consume.

We find ourselves in a culture that defines our relationships and actions primarily through a matrix of consumption. As the philosopher Baudrillard explains, “Consumption is a system of meaning.” We assign value to ourselves and others based on the goods we purchase. One’s identity is now constructed by the clothes you wear, the vehicle you drive, and the music on your iPod. In short, you are what you consume.

This explains why shopping is the number one leisure activity of Americans. It occupies a role in society that once belonged only to religion—the power to give meaning and construct identity. Consumerism, as Pete Ward correctly concludes, “represents an alternative source of meaning to the Christian gospel.” No longer merely an economic system, consumerism has become the American worldview—the framework through which we interpret everything else, including God, the gospel, and church.

I struggle intensely with this issue. Not consumerism, but rather my judgement of those in the church around me when it comes to consumerism. Continuing with post modern theology — it’s all relative. As Americans, the vast majority of us live far above the level and means of most around the world. My lowly apartment is a mansion by many’s standards.

Yet I’ve always had a strong draw to those in the church that live below their means, rejecting the comfort that would seem to come from the market. I’m thinking of the millionare that lives in a 30 year old house in a very middle class neighborhood and uses his money charitably. I’m thinking of a biology professor who rode a bike more often than his car, which by the way was a 10 year old economy sedan. He certainly had the means to do better, but somehow that just didn’t fit into his Christian worldview.

As I look around the church (whether mine or those I visit), I think one of the greatest dangers it faces is apathy. And consumerism seems to go hand in hand. Success in our culture is having the best houses, the best cars, and eating at the best restaurants. It’s just a natural extension to want the best churches. And how do we define best? By the standards we’re used to of course.

The source escapes me at the moment, but I once heard a beautiful rationale for giving. While we tend to emphasize in church the effects and good our giving has on others, we neglect it’s effect on us.

Every time I give, it breaks the chains of materialism.

For me at this stage in my life, it’s a hard pill to swallow. The money in my wallet isn’t exactly impressive, nor assured. Yet as I hopefully move beyond the debt and uncertainty of the recently married penniless grad student, I can only hope that when it comes to church, I define best by another standard.