With materialism and reverse materialism crowding in on us this Christmas season, it’s obviously time to find the right balance. Materialism, no matter its form, is based in the idea that possessions of any kind— whether they are objects, minutes, road trips, or attitudes— define us and make us happy and accepted. The key, then, is not to condemn or idolize possessions, but to gain perspective on them.
When I was traveling in Colorado, I volunteered on an organic farm. A woman and her four children, two teens and two toddlers, were my hosts; her husband was working in California to try to earn enough money to pay their debts. Every day, I heard her complain about how finances were tight and how she didn’t have enough money. Every day, I also accompanied her to the grocery store, where she bought 50 to 100 dollars’ worth of food and supplies. She didn’t believe in leftovers; her fridge was crammed with food. One night, she told her daughter that her teenage friends couldn’t come for supper, because, “We just can’t afford it.” The next day, she came home with two stylish child’s lawn chairs, each one costing over $30, because, “They were so cute I couldn’t resist.”
The next week, I hopped the Greyhound down to Tucson Arizona, where I stayed with some second cousins I hadn’t seen in years: a father and mother and their grown-up daughter and her child. The first night, they fed me a feast of steak and corn-on-the-cob, and then explained how they had bought the meat through a local farmer. They were avid couponers, and took great delight in seeing how much money they could save on groceries and household items. They never hesitated to feed me the best food, and when they heard I had broken my camera earlier in the trip, they gave me one of theirs. I left Tucson loaded down with so many snacks that I could barely carry my backpack.
Obviously, these two families had completely different views of material possessions. The first was stressed and stretched, terrified of sharing their gifts and having no idea of how to be wise about finances. The second family was prudent and thrifty, saving money where they could, but ready to let go of anything when generosity called for it. The contrast was marked, and the lesson stayed with me.
The idea of generosity comes up a lot during the Christmas season, as we fight to decide what to give whom, and how much to spend. One important question to ask is, “Am I buying this because I want to bless this person, or because I feel compelled?” Giving someone a useless trinket he doesn’t need is not blessing him. Giving a child everything on her wish list is not blessing her. Overspending and going into debt are not creating blessings. In contrast, giving someone a meaningful homemade gift is a blessing. So is giving a child a toy that will inspire her creativity. Choosing to give up some luxuries for yourself so you can give to other people is the greatest blessing of all. C.S. Lewis once remarked that if generosity does not come at a price, then it is not really generosity.
Eventually, some people just give up on the gift-giving side of Christmas altogether: either they don’t buy presents, or they buy the safest, most minimal presents they can and put their heads down until New Year’s. Neither of these options is in keeping with the true reason for gift-giving: love.
Two thousand years ago, mankind received a gift that changed the world. It would end up being the most costly gift in the history of the universe, but God thought it was worth it because he loves us. Gift-giving should always be a result of love— not compulsion, not guilt, not a greed for a thank-you or a feeling of self-righteousness.
When we consider the people we love, what is the best gift we can give them? Sometimes, a material gift is an expression of inward love, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Other times, the harder gift to give is one of time, creativity, or effort.
If we give honestly and generously, both of ourselves and our resources, we find the place of peace at the center of the Christmas season, freed from the stress and the demand of the culture’s expectations. This season, I encourage you to give freely, think wisely, and keep perspective on material goods that will rust and fade. Merry Christmas, everyone!
~Lisa Shafter
I can only think of two gifts my father gave me. Once, a toy helicopter he bought while working out of state on a helicopter crew. I was young and had no idea where it came from. Then later, he brought me a dead bat he found in the forest. I have always been fascinated by science from a young age and as morbid as it might sound I was enthralled by this gift. It's wings were soft and leathery, its face was hideous and fascinating...
ReplyDeleteAs opposed as I am to Judeo-Christianity at this time, I find your blog interesting. I'll keep reading. Cheers.
Acceptance is everything.
Thanks, L! I'm glad it gave you some things to think about, even if (and especially because) you disagree. I'll keep up on your blog too and we can both learn from the other's point of view.
ReplyDeleteThe story of your father's gift of the bat is strangely touching. It was a gift nobody would have considered except someone who knew you very well. Again, thanks for sharing.