These are the types of questions you ask your friends when you are in college and involved in a campus ministry:
How can I justify encouraging materialism in clients as an interior designer? Am I really doing them a service if I do things that encourage them to cling to the comforts of this world? Am I not betraying my own principles if I assist others in indulging idolatry?
There were good answers to these questions, I know there were, but I thought of them (the questions) again as I wrote about my new kitchen the other day.
Prudence and good stewardship dictate that we plan ahead for any and all future financial endeavors. The idea that you make car payments to yourself in advance of purchasing a car rather than making those same payments to someone else after the fact only makes good sense. But I was wondering, as Christians, what right do we have to purchase more than the minimum to meet necessity? What right do I have to put together a dream kitchen, or make more than the minimum investment in the property value of my home when those very same funds could be used instead to support five children in an orphanage in Calcutta, to cite a recent example.
I don't mean to say this in judgement of anyone. So many of our financial decisions are made between ourselves and God. I only mean to question what my own philosophy in this regard should be--and I am being hypocritical in the making because I crave stability and forethought, and I have very expensive taste as well. I would love, love, love to have one of those beautiful homes I see on tv. I would love to buy only the best groceries without concerning myself with the cost. I would love to have the best fabrics and coffees and wines. If I had the money for those things, what would I do with it? I much prefer to keep my money in my wallet instead of giving without qualm.
My faith is defective because I do not really and truly trust God to provide my basic needs, and because I fear I would not be satisfied with having provision for only those most basic needs. And I know without a doubt that I am not alone in this.
I hope my readers understand, and that I am expressing only what I mean to express. This post is part confession, and part message to the church that such questions are out there whether or not we ask--and the answers are not simple because of our position in, though not of, the world.
4 comments:
Good questions. I'll be interested to see what you do with them. I'm not a fan of the romanticization of poverty that some people develop after they first discover these questions. But, "simplicity" is one of the traditional christian disciplines. So, you are certainly asking legitimate questions (as if you needed my approval).
No, you're right, I don't "need your approval," but having it makes me feel a little bit better about this post. I have friends with financial plans underway, and I don't mean to imply anything concerning those plans. All the same, all of our plans are subject to God's larger plan that is always already underway.
"Is always already underway" Ha! I love those mixed tenses. What efforts we mortals must make to try to more accurately describe the ways of the Eternal God.
This is something I've wondered and worried about for quite some time. Unsurprisingly, I have very little insight to add.
I have a very difficult time coming up with any effective biblical argument for indulging in luxury. We can't really look at the actions of the Old Testament heroes as examples.
I suppose we can look at the actions of G_d in the Old Testament. After all, he does reward Solomon with wealth. But then Solomon runs into a whole lot of trouble, and a thousand years later Christ says his bit about the camel and the eye of the needle (or the camel and the mild inconvenience if you believe in the Prosperity Gospel interpretation).
If I had to pick a side immediately, I would say that any time or money spent not serving G_d or meeting basic needs for survival is wrongly spent. But I also tend to think that any sort of moderate position is a cop-out. I certainly don't live my life that way. I'm a wealthy materialist. If you knew how much I love my collection of Nintendo games you would be sick.
I don't know that I have ever been in a discussion of the rich young ruler story that hasn't been approached from the point of view, "How can we interpret this so that we get to keep our stuff."
"Oh, we have to be willing to give it all up? That sounds good!" But in our minds the only conceivable situations where this would happen are a) G_d himself in all his glory says in a booming voice, "Your possessions or your soul!" or b) an evil tribulation one-world government seizes our stuff unless we are willing to denounce Christianity. That wasn't the situation faced by the rich young ruler.
Heck, it's even easier to think about "dying for our faith." After all, if you're dead you go straight to heaven as a martyr and you won't miss your stuff because you're dead. If you die, you don't have to live without your material possessions. Great deal! Sign me up for that package!
I think that's one problem with the whole, "You can't take it with you" message. Everyone knows that, and it's an easy message to preach. Nobody will argue with you that you can take your material wealth with you into the afterlife. However, I think that the original intent of this teaching was to warn against hoarding wealth on earth because it is useless after one dies. We're fine with this message.
But if I can't take my stuff with me, then I'd better enjoy the heck out of it during the 73.6 years I am guaranteed as a white American. I am only guaranteed 48.2 more years to beat the rest of my Nintendo games! I'm gonna go get on that right now.
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