Every time I hear materialism and money brought up in church, I always sigh and lean back in the pew, ready for the same sermon I’ve heard a hundred times before. “Don’t be greedy. God wants you to hold your money with an open hand. We all want more and more, we want to keep up with the Joneses, we are prey to advertising and we always think that having one more thing will make us happy.” Yes, this was essentially the blog I gave you yesterday. The points are valid and the problem is rampant. However, I think that most people fail to address the flip side of materialism, which I will call reverse materialism here: the constant search for less, rather than more, in order to find meaning and acceptance.
Although occasionally I would like something new or something additional, greed for material things is not a big problem for me (and for several of my friends). Instead, the materialism takes a different spin: I want fewer things, or certain kind of things, in hopes of finding acceptance. Why am I always quick to clarify that my name-brand shirt was a hand-me-down? Or that my expensive-looking leather coat came from Goodwill? Why do I feel compelled to tell people that my iPod Touch came free with my computer, that I didn’t buy it new? In the quest for having less, I have bound up my identity in other people’s opinions, thinking that my material possessions somehow show my status as a person. I am making the same mistake as the normal materialists do.
Another mistake that reverse materialists make it to redefine “materials.” A friend I met on my travels lived without money, doing help exchange instead. He said he was free from greed and didn’t care about money. This worked out fine… until he wanted to take a trip to the Grand Canyon to meditate. Other friends of mine say they don’t care about money, yet they want cash in order to take trips, buy organic food, and purchase vintage clothing at secondhand shops. It cultivates a lot of arrogance as we consider that we’re not wasting our money on toys made in China. I find myself looking down on the woman with the Coach purse, even though I’m saving up for a plane ticket to Europe.
Reverse materialism often comes at a price: we are the freeloaders, taking the “higher road” on the normal materialists’ dollar. Reverse materialists don’t have a problem lauding freedom from money while relying on people who have money. This is something I have to constantly remind myself: someone always has to pick up the tab. There would be no secondhand shops if there were no firsthand shops; there would be no extra resources if there were not resources to begin with. People who tend toward reverse materialism must be grateful for those who have chosen to make money and share it as they see fit— we must not condemn them, and we must not feel superior. We too are trapped in a kind of materialism that is more subtle and just as deadly.
So on one side we have materialism— the search for meaning in more— and on the other side we have reverse materialism— the search for meaning in less. Where is the middle ground? How can we view materials in a healthy way, one that does not idolize or condemn? That’s a blog for tomorrow.
~Lisa Shafter
I found your blog while looking for inspiration for more Christmas hatred. You cornered the consumerist beast and poked it with a stick like the corpse it is. I made wrote a more cynical, hateful post on this if you're interested in checking it out.
ReplyDeleteI share your anger against the rampant consumerism of Christmas. However, we diverge in the way we view Christmas. I celebrate Christmas, and I celebrate it wholeheartedly. Be sure to read my blog tomorrow and leave your thoughts. :)
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