So That Others May Simply Live

#158, January 5, 2005

 

T’was the day before Christmas, and I was out shopping, riding through town, store-to-store hopping. My Christmas Eve ritual, with typically unique encounters: the shop owner who knows my wife and what little piece of jewelry will please her; the Kentucky Street fiddler with whom I play a few carols under the spotlight of the setting sun; the music store clerk with great ideas for the boys in the garage band.

 

This is my friendly Ghost of Christmas Presents: quality products, moderate in quantity and cost, small enough to tote in my Santa-red bike saddlebags, chosen with care from merchant-neighbors, mostly from locally-owned businesses. But the Ghost of Christmas Presents has a dark side, too.

 

Does it bother anyone that our biggest holiday is celebrated by mass consumption of material goods? Has materialism, the insatiable desire for more stuff, become our religion? Measured by what gets our attention and resources -- from the pre-Christmas piles of catalogues and ad supplements to the post-Christmas piles of packaging – it seems that Jesus and the Santa-spirit of giving are merely the wrapping paper; the real Christmas is the stuff in the box. One of the saddest moments (and greatest lost opportunities) in recent history is when our President suggested to Americans that, following the September 11 terrorist attacks, we respond by going shopping. We are traumatically stricken, and our leader tells us to consume. Did it ever occur to him that consumption might be contributing to our trauma?

 

It’s no coincidence that consumption is also an old name for tuberculosis; it describes how TB *wastes away* or *consumes* its victims. My son asks, if we stop consuming, won’t it kill the economy? I tell him we need a new economy, because *this* economy is killing *us*. It’s not just the many forms of pollution and resource depletion, and the wars over these resources. It’s what having this stuff does to our lives: the time spent getting and supporting it: buying, maintaining, storing, moving, cleaning, fixing, powering, and replacing it. Usually it’s time we *don’t* spend with the people in our lives, or getting to know ourselves.

 

Rampant materialism is like a parasite. It will eventually go away, either because we carefully drive it out of our system, or we allow it to pollute and deplete and eventually kill us. But managing the cure shouldn’t be so hard. We are not by nature “consumers.” After WWI, business leaders were concerned that, since Americans had all the material essentials, there would be nothing to drive economic growth. The solution: marketing, creating needs where none had existed. Create a bottomless box of desire that Jesus (or Buddha or Mohammed) could never hope to fill. (My nomination for the scariest image of 2004 was a National Geographic photo of a beautiful woman in a slinky dress at Chinese auto show; she’s lovingly cradling a scale model of a new sports car.)

 

What to do? We can start by talking about it, with our family, friends, co-workers. Share this column with them. Prepare them for next Christmas by letting them know that a (much) larger portion of the gift budget will be donated in their name to organizations serving people who are lacking life’s most basic needs. Educate yourself about how our consumptive lifestyle impacts the developing world (see www.adbusters.org/magazine/57/terrorists.php for a powerful essay on this topic. American spending on cosmetics, pornography and pet food alone, it says, could provide clean water, safe sewers and basic health care to the world’s poor.)

 

Above all, you can use meditation and prayer to help fill that box of desire. Explore your inner gifts, what you can offer in service, compassion, and forgiveness. Start reducing your consumption, and let the economy adjust. Share with neighbors. Grow your own food and energy, or buy it from local suppliers. We may even be able to find common ground with the political opposition. Can eco-liberals and evangelicals join together to boycott companies using sex to sell products? Can simple, sustainable spiritual living be common ground between “red” and “blue”?

 

In the end, let’s “live simply so that others may simply live.” And have a happy new year!