In A Land of Excess

"This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God." - Jesus

My friend Liz (suddenlyfive.blogspot.com) came with her family to visit over Thanksgiving. She told me that they almost never have leftovers at their house because the two Nicaraguan teenagers who live with them eat everything in front of them. Habits developed throughout a life of feast or famine (more famine than feast), have led them to feast whenever they have a chance.

My first thought was that self-control is a learned skill and the ability to save things for later is a sign of maturity.

But then I remembered Jesus' story about the man who had such a great harvest that he had to build bigger barns to store all his extra grain.

"You fool!" God said. "This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have stored up for yourself?"

Saving is one of the highest virtues of American Christians. Get rid of your credit card debt. Live within your means. Put something away for a rainy day. Practice self-control in the face of consumerism that tells you to "buy, buy, buy."

Hearing about my Nicaraguan friends suddenly flipped that value on its head. John Wesley famously said, "Make all you can, save all you can, give all you can." We are quick to criticize the people who only practice the first part of that aphorism, people who constantly pursue better jobs and more money without regard for anything else. However, American Christianity is a lot more complimentary towards people who only make it to the second point, people who work hard and live frugally, putting away a nest egg for the future.

But what about the third part, "Give all you can"?

According to an article I read recently, Americans fail at dieting because of a phenomenon called "decision fatigue." We are faced with so many decisions every day that we just get tired of choosing not to eat bad food and to exercise. We are both psychologically and biologically programmed to hoard--to eat as much as we can and rest as much as we can--in preparation for an unknown future time of famine. In a land where that famine never comes, we get fat.

According to another excellent article from The New York Times about a Greek island full of people who regularly live into their 90s or even 100s, individual change is nearly impossible. After listing a number of factors that contribute to the overall health of the islanders, the author writes this:

"Every one of these factors can be tied to longevity. That's what the $70 billion diet industry and $20 billion health-club industry do in their efforts to persuade us that if we eat the right food or do the right workout, we'll be healthier, lose weight and live longer. But these strategies rarely work. Not because they're wrong-minded: it's a good idea for people to do any of these healthful activities. The problem is, it's difficult to change individual behaviors when community behaviors stay the same. In the United States, you can't go to a movie, walk through an airport or buy cough medicine without being routed through a gantlet of candy bars, salty snacks and sugar-sweetened beverages. The processed-food industry spends more than $4 billion a year tempting us to eat. How do you combat that? Discipline is a good thing, but discipline is a muscle that fatigues. Sooner or later, most people cave in to relentless temptation."

In a land of feasting, is saving really a virtue? What is the difference between saving and hoarding? My initial judgment of my Nicaraguan friends and their lack of self-control could easily be mirrored back to my own life. Is learning to live surrounding by plenty really a virtue?

Mike and I have decided to do an Advent fast this year. We've given up sweets and bread for the next few weeks. Partly, we are both tired of being overweight. But after spending Thanksgiving with my Nicaraguan friends, I found myself appalled by the insatiable appetite of Americans between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Everything from peppermint mochas to a hundred different kinds of truffles and cookies is everywhere--on tv commercials, on billboards, on posters and pictures throughout stores, on the sidebars of Facebook and Google. Work parties, friend parties, work dinners, friend coffee dates. Eating while you shop. Eating on the run in the midst of the craziness. It's all madness!

How do we make it stop? I think our Advent fast is a step in the right direction, but I wonder if our whole perspective on saving needs to change. I wonder if we need to stop being okay with being surrounded by such plenty, if we need to stop being so proud of our self-control and start wondering why we got so good at turning down temptation in the first place.

Maybe I need to stop listening to Dave Ramsey and start listening to Jesus.