Do we fully understand the toxic nature of Christian consumerism? I don't think so, but Adam's excellent piece will help you see the old problem from a fresh angle. – Paul
The week before Christmas 2013, GQ magazine published an interview with Duck Dynasty's patriarch, Phil Robertson. When asked to define "sin," he disrupted the season's alleged peace with his go-to example: the gay lifestyle. The Internet, in the spirit of the season, lit up like a Christmas tree.
Meanwhile, Robertson went to the bank: A week after the expose, sales for Robertson's already best-selling book, Happy, Happy, Happy spiked by more than 80% in Christian retail stores. Christians across the country, some out of curiosity and some out of support, drove to their nearest retailer or clicked to their favorite website and purchased the book.
The famed duck caller wasn't the first to ruffle feathers over this issue though. In the summer of 2012, the CEO of Chick-fil-A, Dan Cathy, expressed his personal opposition to gay marriage. Gay rights activists called for a boycott, while many others responded by driving to the nearest Chick-fil-A on what they dubbed "Chick-fil-A Day" and stood in long lines to buy a sandwich and support the CEO.
But it was more than just supporting the company or the CEO. They wanted to express their support Cathy's views about gay marriage. They wanted to embed themselves in the anti-gay marriage camp. For Chick-fil-A, they bought a chicken sandwich. For Duck Dynasty, they bought a book.
Both events echo yet another earlier conflict. In 1997, the Southern Baptist Convention voted to boycott Disney, in part for its support for gays. The SBC, the largest Christian denomination in the U.S., with a membership equal to the population of Chile, officially boycotted all of Disney's theme parks and movie releases.
It seems that for Christians, money (spent or withheld) has become a new way to wage war.
Cultural currencies
Unfortunately, Christians have a history of waging war using the currencies of the time. A millennium after the New Testament, the Church that had started in Jerusalem and spread to the uttermost parts of the earth was cut off from its origins. Christians living in Europe could no longer freely travel to the Holy Land. So in 1095, the Pope set out to rejoin Rome with Jerusalem. For 200 years, zealous Christians battled to recover what they believed was their rightful claim to the city.
Wielding weapons, tens of thousands of Crusaders advanced east across the same region where, 1000 years earlier, the apostle Paul had traveled west spreading the Good News. When the Crusaders reached Antioch, the city where Christians were first called "Christians," the forces attacked the city's united Jewish and Muslim defenders.
The Crusades are a go-to symbol of the hypocrisy and power-mongering that Christianity is sometimes accused of, even today. Nonetheless, the Pope's original goal seemed admirable: To provide Christians safe passage to Jerusalem. Their heritage, he believed, gave them a legitimate claim for inhabiting at least part of the city. But for this belief, Christians were willing to take up arms and kill those who opposed them. Many mortgaged everything they had to keep fighting.
Many today (including Christians) are aghast that such killing was committed in the name of Christ. People who read Jesus' words are bewildered at how such violent methods could have ever been justified. Many Christians even avoid warfare metaphors for their Crusade connotations. Yet, given the recent buying habits of American Christians, perhaps the Crusades still have things to teach us about the pitfalls of wielding power.
Money and power
While the Crusaders once wielded swords, Christians today wield credit cards. And although the currency is no longer life and death, both scenarios embody power in a common currency of the day—the mighty sword then, and the almighty dollar now. Before modern economic systems, brute force was the most visible practice of power. Today, money is. And money's power can be equally devastating—even if it doesn't draw blood.
Jesus clearly taught us to keep a loose grip on our money (Matthew 6:24). But because money is power, we need to examine how we spend it. Here, Jesus is even more specific: "The rulers in this world lord it over their people . . . . But among you it will be different. Whoever want to be a leader among you must be your servant" (Matthew 20:25-28). And, "since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other's feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you" (John 13:14). In other words, the power Jesus wielded he used to serve others, not to rule over them.
Far from wielding money as a weapon, Jesus invites us to serve others with it. He calls us to beat our swords into plowshares and our credit cards into cups of cold water.
What's true for power is also true for money: Far from wielding money as a weapon, Jesus invites us to serve others with it. He calls us to beat our swords into plowshares and our credit cards into cups of cold water.
But the water gets muddied by competing notions of what money is for: buying or serving. When we exchange money for goods and services like books and chicken sandwiches, we are buying. When we tithe to our churches or donate to ministries and charities, we are giving. Buying represents consumer values. Giving represent Christians values.
If we could peer through the bright retail stores and their complex supply chains, we would see that our money buys the bodies of real people—who spend their time and energy providing goods and services. Neither buying nor boycotting are Christian values; they are consumer values.
Consumers accumulate. Christians distribute. Buying isolates. Giving connects.
Consumer values are self-centered. Christian values are others-centered. Consumers accumulate. Christians distribute. Buying isolates. Giving connects.
Some Christians today may believe that buying a book is supporting godly values, but someday the Church will look back and only the product will remain. It will tell a different story—a consumer story. If, however, we use our money to serve others, future generations will have no doubt about what we believed in.
We live in a complex society, so we must look carefully at just how we express our values. Our methods matter. Will it be through buying or giving?
Whatever the cost, we can't afford to confuse one for the other.
@AdamGraber is an editor at Tyndale House Publishers. Writing at thesecondeclectic.com, he explores how technology is shaping faith.
