Consumer Catholicism

A critique of the practice of bolstering Catholic identity through an ever-growing collection of items.

Part I: Jesus

When God walked among us in Palestine, He did so with very few things. The clothes on His back, presumably a few personal items, but not much more. Being an itinerant preacher, He lived on the hospitality of His followers and those who appreciated His teaching.

When He prayed, He went to deserted, out of the way places. He worshiped with others in a synagogue every week. And He taught and preached in public places, or in the homes of His followers.

His life didn't require a lot of things.

On top of that, we have the direct advice Jesus gave: sell what you have, give to the poor, and follow me.

He gave this advice to someone seeking perfection. There's nuance and other things happening in this story, but don't let that distract from the main advice: Jesus tells the young man to do what He already was doing. And he continued that example, up to being stripped of every last thing He owned, and being slaughtered on a cross.

Part II: Duc in Altum

What this material simplicity allows, is a breadth of action. We see this in what Jesus was able to do during the three years of His ministry. He traveled far and wide, not bound by the responsibilities that sedentary life require. No house to care for, no subsistence to labor at, no family to provide for, no livestock to tend. He was able to dedicate time to forming His apostles, teaching His disciples, performing miracles, praying, and even taking time to rest.

There are arguments to be made that to attain this freedom, the responsibilities for food and shelter were offloaded onto others. Jesus lived off of charity, so He enjoyed this freedom because of the labor and sacrifice of others. The difference, lies in that it was a gift. Unlike an earthly king imposing a tax, the Christ begged like a pauper. Again, increasing His capability for action. For now every meal He ate, or roof He slept under, became an act of virtue for those who gave it.

Part III: Sin of Consumption

Consumer Catholicism, turns this approach completely backward. Instead of a gift freely given, it is a transaction. Instead of a freedom via simplicity, it is a slavery to an ever-expanding collection of material things. Instead of an ability to act and to move, it ties one to certain places and items.

Collections of rosarys, devotional texts, multiple Bibles, subscription services, videos to watch, podcasts to listen to, music to amass.

There are apparently good reasons for some of this: supporting Catholic artists and crafters, educational endeavors, and entertainment that is spiritually wholesome. But Catholic artists and crafters can be supported with a gift. Education can be accomplished with resources freely given. And entertainment should be made and shared, not just consumed.

Part IV: The Evil in the Sin

There is an insidiously evil aspect to these materialistic practices as well. Being able to buy the trappings that makes one appear to be an ardent believer, able to compartmentalize the faith within the bounds of the things purchased, and ultimately, these items can act as a buffer between the believer and God.

Buying faith: not quite Simony, but not unlike it. Purchasing a devotional text to get closer to God, or a subscription to an app that delivers daily prayers and reflections; the person may have a laudable end in mind, but is offloading the spiritual responsibility to others, while thinking (whether innocently or otherwise), that the thing itself is going to improve their spiritual life, ex opere operato. At its best, this is an approach inculcated in many throughout the world by consumerist tendencies that advertisers work diligently to instill. At it's worse, it's an easy out for someone who's conscience has felt the nudge of God.

Compartmentalization: here some of the blame has to be placed on the advertisers of these spiritual items. They promise many things that can only truly be delivered through grace and discipline, and so the purchaser feels that their faith is safe within the confines of whatever book or app or magazine they have purchased. They associate the experiences they have while reading or listening or viewing with the spiritual life, and it becomes another trap God has to break them out of.

Safety Net: anyone who has spent a good deal of time in silent prayer knows the pain and joy, exhilaration and rage, and at times, even fear, that arises. It's an emotional rollercoster to be in an active relationship with God. Those things are not going to happen to one who drowns out silence with the incessant chatter of things. It is safe to listen to podcasts, pray the rosary with a Catholic celebrity on an online video, or listen to Gregorian chant. It keeps God at an arms distance, it makes the relationship safe, and muffles the Vox Dei through the use of human voices.

Conclusion

God always wins in the end, so there is nothing here to fear. But it's worth evaluating our practices when it comes to living the faith, and resisting the encroaching of consumerist tendencies. Embracing the simplicity Jesus modeled for us will give us the same freedom for action, ability to dedicate time to important tasks, and capability to prompt virtue in others. For our brothers and sisters trapped in those tendencies our example may be enough for God to pull them safe. But if not, He will tell us when words and actions are necessary.