Krista Mournet

…when we go shopping.

“Make Me Happy. Buy Me Something.”

Recently, I saw this demand emblazoned across a t-shirt as I meandered through the supermarket. Rarely do such consumerist motivations present themselves so obviously! I’ll never forget that moment, or the person wearing that t-shirt.

Some things have come together in my recent experience to get me thinking about the American (and now globalized, thanks to Americans) love of stuff. A friend talked recently about coming back after a missions trip to a less economically fortunate country and being appalled by the excesses in the local grocery store (I mean really, who needs 70 different kinds of breakfast cereal?!). Eugene Peterson has spoken to me through his writing about the constant barrage of advertisements that clutters our minds like garbage strewn on the roadside (Under the Unpredictable Plant). And Henri Nouwen has written about how our fixation with acquiring stuff heaps up anxiety on our already worry-saturated souls (Making All Things New).

I find it easy to resonate with this sadness over the state of our consumerist selves. But that’s because I detest shopping with every fiber of my being. When considering my options for activity over this holiday weekend, there is nothing I would like to do less than traipse around a hectic shopping mall, dodging packs of teenagers and double-wide strollers (myself now added to their ranks), and hefting bags full of yet more stuff that I’ll have to store somewhere.

Yet, I know lots of people who love to go shopping, and who at the same time express a deep and honest spirituality. So it’s certainly not shopping itself that is the root of our evils. We do need some stuff. But maybe there’s something about wrestling the need for stuff into a proper proportion in our lives that Peterson, Nouwen and my friend are getting at.

So, this weekend, as we play, rest, worship, and yes, shop, may we remember that a little counter-cultural ease of spirit can be very good for the soul.

“Don’t hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or–worse!–stolen by burglars. It’s obvious, isn’t it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being.” Matthew 6:19-21, The Message