Part 1
Consumerism, Pragmatism, and the Extremes of Legalism and Liberalism
Chapter 1
Consumerism
The Dangers of Commercialized Ministry
God is a belief, not a brand. âJames Twitchell
You cannot build a church on consumers. It is impossible. Consumers will desert you at a momentâs notice because they have no commitments beyond their own wants and desires. You cannot depend on church consumers. They have wandering eyes. The grass is always greener on the other side of the ecclesial lawnâuntil they move onto that pasture and see the problems there. Consumer Christianity knows nothing of we, because it is about âwhatâs in it for me.â Itâs an all-take, no-give relationship. Just as they say that you cannot separate the man from the message, you cannot separate the consumer from consumption. Consumers will do what consumers do: consume. For the church not to bend a knee to the demands of consumerism, she must know consumerism by its full name, rather than its shortened initials. Consumerismâs first name is Give Me; its middle name is Now; and its last name is Or Else I Leave. Consumers lack church manners. They walk out the back door as soon as you open the front door. Did I fail to mention that they do not tell you when theyâre leaving? Consumers may speak with interest about a cross-centered community and a Church of We. But talk is cheap. Consumerismâs habits suggest otherwise. Its maxims do too. The Consumerâs Proverb is that there is a way that seems right unto the consumer, but in the end it leads to their satisfaction.
Consumerism, broadly defined, is an enterprise built on the satisfaction of the customer and the experience of the consumer. So, in the economy of consumerism, the merchant gives the paying customer what he or she wants to remain in business. After all, in the words of The OâJaysâ famous song, âyouâve got to give the people. . . give the people what they want.â The law of consumerism teaches that the customer is always right. The retailer, knowing this, aims to satisfy the customer. After all, the satisfied customer becomes the lifelong customer when customer satisfaction is achieved. The only problem is that when we meld this kind of business principle into the functional ministry of the church, we make one crucial mistake: What the customer wants is often not what the customer needs.
The religious customer often wants a spiritual happy meal, devoid of lasting biblical nourishment, filled with the latest theological toy, gadget, and trinket. The spiritual patron wants drive-through like customer service at Amazon-like speed. The commodified consumer insists that a churchâs list of worship service offerings and ministry programs exceed the length of a long dinner menu. As such, the consumer demands a plethora of personal choices, so that each family member can choose a worship setting that fits personal desires. The value of family is removed by consumerismâs moniker of individual choice. Customization, not family, becomes a core value, and individual choice is prized. In consumeristic Christianity, Grandma Betty and Grandpa Bill can sing hymns in the traditional service; mom and dad enjoy Starbucks and a feel-good sermon in the worship cafĂ©; teenagers gather at the next generation worship venue; and children go to Disney Church. The spiritual shopper also expects the pastor to be a CEO âpastorpreneur,â with a resume that includes a degree from Harvard Business Bible School and an earned diploma from Visionary Theological Seminary. The pastor must possess the business acumen of a Fortune 500 CEO, preach like Billy Graham, shake hands like a politician, counsel like a certified psychologist, use humor like a stand-up comedian, and write like a best-selling author. Failure to provide these amenities and spiritual services will result in a one-star review in a five-star competition among other churches.
While the analogies of church consumerism may seem comical, the realities are not. Sacred spirituality is turned into a capital commodity. God becomes a tool we employ, a resource we plunder, and a power we control. In church consumerism, Jesus becomes a divine commodity; the church becomes a dispensary warehouse of religious goods; pastors become spiritual salesmen; church leaders become divine baristas; the gospel moves from good news to a good product; and church members become church shoppers. Then, of course, church shoppers always become church hoppers.
What Is Consumerism?
This book argues that the Church of Me is rooted in individualism, and the three major fruits which grow off the vine of individualism are consumerism, pragmatism, and the extremes of legalism and liberalism. In the Church of Me, individualism is the root of the problem, and consumerism, which we will deal with in this chapter, is one of its rotten fruits. That is, the rotten fruit of consumerism hangs on the tree of individualism, which is planted in the parasitic soil of self-worship. The only way to eradicate the parasitic effect of individualism in the Church of Me is to surrender at the altar of all five major relationships in lifeâself, God, family, believers, and the world. So, if consumerism is a rotten fruit that must be plucked off the tree of the Church of Me, what exactly is consumerism and how did it infiltrate the church?
Consumerism, in its most technical sense, is defined as the protection and promotion of the interests of consumers. It is the preoccupation of society with the acquisition of consumer goods. Consumerism runs so deep and has become so normal that it is hard to imagine our culture without it. The tentacles of the consumeristic web are far-reaching. In a consumer culture, your identity is connected to the brands you wear; success is defined by the products you consume; and neighborhood friendships are often based on your purchasing power and monetary wealth. In a commodity culture, those within it are conditioned to believe that an objectâs value is assigned, and once a valuation price tag is assigned, it can be exchanged for the commodification of other goods and services. Usefulness is based strictly on an objectâs utilitarian function. Consumerism is so pervasive in our culture that it invades our most basic beliefs and the way we communicate. We no longer call that which we find important a virtue. We call it a value, as if a price tag is attached, ribbon and all, to our speech and beliefs. The ethos of consumer culture has taught us that we should be happy, and if we are not, there is a product or a service that can fix it. The consumerist mindset focuses on personal happinessâthe belief that happiness comes from what we want, what we own, or what we think we need, instead of being concerned about the things of others.
Consumerism is so intertwined with how we live that no area of life goes untouched from it. Young professionals work long hours, often to the neglect of their families, because they have bought the lie that âWhoever dies with the most toys wins.â A cohabitating couple, living under the same roof prior to marriage, âtest-drivesâ the relationship to ensure that it works before making a life-altering ceremonial transaction. Even the way we discuss the marriage ceremony in our culture is consumeristic. In a previous era, you made a covenant at the altar of marriage. Now you sign a contract. It is called a marriage license. But God sees marriage as covenantal, as opposed to a consumerist, who sees marriage as transactional. And what if you get tired or bored in that transactional relationship? Coworkers describe a vulnerable marriage that is on the proverbial rocks as âdisposable,â as if the marriage vow is a paper product purchased to be easily disposed of. Prostitution and pornography, both dehumanizing practices that turn persons with intrinsic worth into commodified objects, are the results of sexualized consumerism. Drive down an interstate highway or freeway, and consumerism screams off its billboards: âUse me, take me, buy me, drink me, smell me, touch me, kiss me, and sleep with me.â These examples are part-and-parcel proofs that consumerism is not just the dominant worldview of North America; it has become the heart of the United States. And because consumerism is at the heart of America, it is competing for hearts. The American mantra, which says, âWhoever dies with the most toys wins,â runs antithetical to the gospel message, which teaches that âWhoever dies with Jesus wins.â The adage to âGet all you can, can all you get, and sit on the can until you can the restâ is a bad recipe by itself; it is even worse when churches bring this me-centered recipe into their spiritual soup kitchen.
To be clear, those who live in a culture of consumerism should not feel an inherent sense of guilt. The issue is not living in a materialist society; the issue is when a materialist society lives in you. Joseph went down to Egypt, but he did not let Egypt come down in him. Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were transported to Babylon, but Babylon was never transported into them. The first-century believers lived in Rome, but their hearts were not given to Caesar. There is a difference between living in a consumer society and adopting a consumer spirit. You can live in a consumerist society without giving your heart away to it. The tragedy today, though, is that churches have given their heart away to the spirit of consumerism and primarily ope...