Yes, this is how the me-first live:
Carefree consumerists,
Treating the world like it’s their oyster.
(Everyday Psalms, Psalm 73, page 168)
I have a mouth. I eat stuff. I consume.
Even so, I am not a consumerist. At least, I wasn’t created to be one. But I live in a consumeristic society where the economy rises and falls based on how many goods and services you and I and our neighbors buy and sell. We live with a catch-22 where if we keep consuming like we are now, we’ll eat up our world. But if we stop, we’ll depress our economy which always ends up hurting the poor and vulnerable the most.
But there’s hope.
Prayer consumes nothing. In fact, it exposes my never-satisfied consumerism.
In prayer, we lay our lives bare before our Lord. We put all of the details out in the open if we’re honest in our praying. (And what’s the point of not being honest in our praying? It’s not like we can pull one over on God, right? And how useful would that be if we could?) But as we lay things out before our Lord and ourselves, we start to see our incongruities, how who God has created and saved us to be doesn’t match up with how we actually live our lives.
In the words of author and poet Wendell Berry, society tells us to “want more of everything ready-made.” The consumerist impulse nurtured in us makes us predictable, own-able.
The problem with our consumerism is it doesn’t feed our real hunger. We keep buying stuff and eating stuff and filling our lives with experiences. But each one highlights our hunger rather than satisfying it. And so we keep going back for more and more and more.
When we’re unhappy, our culture offers us pleasure instead of happiness. The fit is worse than square pegs in round holes. When we’re thirsty, we’re given a sweet soft drink instead of crisp, clear water. When we need to reflect, we’re given a thrilling roller coast ride instead of a leisurely walk. When we need intimacy, we’re given porn instead of a friendly conversation. The things that bring pleasure tend to be quick and intense, leaving a craving for more, and they’re easier to package for a consumeristic culture. The things that brings happiness tend to be slow and mellow, leaving a sense of contentment, and they rarely need to be purchased.
The slowed-down nature of prayer has the ability to move us from the pleasure seeking of consumption to the happiness of contentment. It may not kill our consumerism, but it does create room for us to be happy in the moment.
I love music. But a few years ago, I realized I had stopped enjoying it. It had become a background soundtrack. I was consuming it but barely tasting it. So I bought a turntable and started buying vinyl records again. The simple action of having to prepare a record to be played and then turning it over to hear the reverse side caused me to slow down and pay more attention. Immediately, I was enjoying music again.
Prayer can have a similar effect, pausing our consumption and enhancing our taste for God.
Prayer: I am never satisfied, God. I have my moments of contentment, but then I see or think of things I want to do or have and a consumerist lust rises in my soul. Help me! I know my cravings are really for what our culture tells me they’re for. As I stop and pray, teach me to be content in all circumstances. In Jesus. Amen.