Take a second to think about the things you or your family own. How many of them did you make? My assumption is very few. I’ve come to realize that I have made very few items by hand. Those I have made, I have taken incredibly good care of. In high school, I once made a secretary-style desk in wood-shop class and I cared for it as though it was worth a fortune. If anyone so much as touched it I would watch like a hawk. Why? Well, I understood first-hand how that desk was made, I knew the amount of work put into it.
My hope is that you have had a similar experience. Unfortunately this attachment to material items, like the one I had with my desk, embodies the very opposite of the consumer culture in which we live. We so often buy things as cheaply as possible, only to discard them and buy more. In fact, the things we buy are often conveniently made to be disposable in order to fuel our culture’s love for shopping. Author William T. Cavanaugh put it this way, “Our relationships with products tend to be short-lived; rather than hoarding treasured objects, consumers are characterized by a constant dissatisfaction with material goods.”
Our emphasis with regards to the material world, especially in the Christian tradition, is to try to disengage ourselves. This view comes from the way we interpret scripture. In Matthew, Jesus rebukes storing up treasures here on earth. In Colossians, Paul attacks greed. It’s obvious that the way we relate to the material world is a spiritual practice, but does this mean we need to become detached from the material world? From my observations, the problems we face in our culture do not come from excessively storing up treasures, or becoming too attached to the things we own, although this something we must still be on guard against. Instead, it is that we have no regard for the things we own, the things we buy, and especially where they came from or how they were produced. Because of this, we have no issue filling up dumpsters with our unwanted things. I know this all too well. I may have engaged in the act of dumpster-diving once or twice.
Perhaps the issue stems from the fact that we very seldom play a part in the making of our own goods. In pre-industrial society, homes were a place of production. Whether this involved farming the majority of their own food or making a portion of their own goods, there was pride and meaning in a person’s work. This is not to romanticize those times, it had its fair share of challenges. However, it would certainly be a lot harder to waste food that had come from your own garden, or throw away clothes you made with your own hands.
I’m not writing this to give you a guilty conscience, or to demand that you start hand-making all of the things you own. That would be a bit ridiculous. I’m writing this as a reminder. A reminder that the things we own, the things we buy, and the things we eat all have an impact on our lives and the lives of the people that make or produce them. They are our voice in the dark. As election season is in full tilt, we know that our vote can play a small yet significant role in our own lives and in the lives of others. We do not only vote on November 8, though. We vote everyday with our wallet. How can the decisions we make as consumers help to bring God’s kingdom to earth?
Landon is a senior environmental biology major with a minor in international development.