We live in a shopaholic society. We are daily bombarded with messages, hints, and outright directives telling us that acquiring X or Y makes us worthy. Worthy of what is a good question, but conformity is still required. “We are markets – you will be assimilated . . . .”

Once again we are standing on the threshold of the Feast of the Nativity – a feast that has, at least duing my lifetime, an increasingly long shadow – I think I saw my first Christmas advertisement in late September, early October this year. How long before we have them in August? Now Christmas advertising is in full frenzy. You can buy a ready made Christmas party. You must “show” that you “care” by buying these expensive (read – totally unnecessary) items from our shop. And my favourite – from a UK retailer a few years ago, Fathers who want to show their sons that they love them, buy from X! Needless to say – our household has not bought anything from X since.

Have you ever spent a moment to think about shopping in relation to theology? I suspect more of us have than have not. For example – do you refuse to buy products from company X, or country Y because of an ethical objection? How do you decide whether or not to buy that new mobile, or laptop, or notebook, or game console? Is it based on real need, or pure desire?

These are not always easy straightforward questions, but as we approach a ceelebration of the renewal of creation – should we not take a moment and consider our stewardship of that creation? And what about our stewardship of our own person? One another? Today it is I think very hard to separate these things from the consumer lifestyle that we are in – whether or not we wish to be.

I’m still playing with some of these questions – in part brought on by the feral marketing machine running in circles, chasing its tail during the “Festive Season”, and in part by some interesting essays on it including this one over at Religion Dispatches. What are your thoughts?

Here’s an interesting vid (and its transcript) discussing the interrelationship between the environment, embodiment, and faith. Paul Collins, a former Roman Catholic priest speaks about the failure of Christianity to respond to the environment in a throughful manner, and the steps he envisions we might take theologically and in practise to re-establish the balance.

Lets face it we live in a world of instant gratification. You see it, you want it (but don’t necessarily need it), and you buy it. “It” might last for 6 months before the next “it” comes along that has 3 things different, none of which you use, and then the cycle starts all over.

About three months ago when the newest iPhone came out, I happened to be in town and passed one phone store after another where the que stretched around the block. After the fourth such occurrance I stopped to ask one of the guys in the que what everyone was waiting for. “New iPhone” came the reply. It was clear however, that all of these folks already had the “old” iPhone, and that those devices were working perfectly fine – I saw dozens of them tapping, snapping, and yaking away on them. But the “new” iPhone was the new “it” and it must be possessed.

Staying on the mobile phone topic – every 12 months my mobile phone contract comes up for renewal. Sometime before, and for sometime after, the company starts calling: ‘You’ll want a new phone, we can arrange that for you.’ Well, no actually, my existing phone does just fine thanks. ‘But the new ones have über-megapixel photos, and crystaline-HD video . . .’ Yeah . . . but I only want a phone. I’ve got a very good camera, and a very good camcorder thanks very much. My phone works fine, now go away. The caller always hangs up in bemused despair, not comprehending why I don’t want the newest, shiniest, fashion accessory.

With both examples – the “new” iPhone, that drove hundreds to que outside shops around the block on a sunny morning, and the annual ritual of renewal, I experience the corollary or is it the consequences of living in an instant gratification society. The power of marketing, and the push to take something from the realm of the useful, functional, and helpful, into the realm of  . . . meaningless fashion accessory. In this way the “it” item of today, quickly goes out of fashion, only to be replaced by the next “it”and people . . . .almost unconsciously it seems . . . are lead out into the streets to que for hours to buy “it” only to repeat the process 6 months later!

During the fourth century Christianity went through a period of enthusiastic asceticism. Asceticism it should be said is not what we often popularly percieve as a scrawny sun baked individual beating and lashing himself for Jesus (indeed many of the more famous ascetics taught that this was sinful abuse). Rather asceticism was about fine-tuning the spirit, character, and body of the individual, training him or her towards transcendence.

One key feature of this self disciplline, was to learn to challenge, even set aside those voices that constantly demand instant gratification: “must have”, “must do”, “must be seen to do”, “must . . must. . . .must. . . .”. One often finds in the recorded teachings of the desert fathers the instruction to sit in your cell, be content, and work your craft (usually spinning or braiding cord and baskets). To be content, with what you have, and to acquire the inner serenity that leads to clarity of thought, and the ability to sift through the many “must haves” that we impose upon ourselves, to find communion, and the realisation of one’s whole self.

Today, the fervour for vigorous asceticism is long gone – and that is not necessarily a bad thing. What we can learn from the example of the fourth century pioneers however, is a “modern” asceticism (St. Athanasius for example said anyone – regardless of their vocation, or station in life, could practice moderate asceticism and benefit from it); and that is to live simply, to be content with what we need, rather than everything that we are “told” we want.

The benefits of this asceticism are many, but here are just a few. Firstly you buy less, and learn to buy quality that lasts, rather than quantity. Secondly you unleash your creativity – you learn to enjoy making and doing things for yourself, and with others. Thirdly with very little effort you find that you’re reducing your environmental impact – which is of course good for everyone (though not necessarily the businesses screaming at you in adverts to buy buy buy).

How does this fit into a spiritual practice, an expression of our Christian faith? Simple, we are stewards of the earth – a lower environmental impact is a good thing. Following the example of Jesus we are enjoined to promote social justice – many of the cheap, low quality, mass produced items we buy, and throw away in six months, are produced in situations that would make a dictator weep in shame. Finally, with less clutter, less stuff, and more opportunities to engage and create with others, and for others, one finds that the fulfillment of things is replaced with a more stable, deeper fulfillment of personality – this is an expression of true asceticism, and the goal of Christian teaching.

Looking for ideas, places to start, here are a few very good links. We Live Simply is a site with all sorts of ideas, and conversations about getting the best out of less. The Really Good Life is similar, more personalised, and I think has a more of a DIY approach. Finally, How Can I Recycle This? is a site that does what it says – people ask, and people answer, and along the way you get some really good ideas in the most unexpected places. If you know of any similar sites, by all means post them in the comments.

The Economist has a good article on some recent (and not so recent) moves linking religious communities with addressing ecological issues (not just climate change, I’d say). They report that a recent meeting of religious leaders, Prince Philip and Ban Ki-moon resulted in various action plans according to one’s tradition.

The Daoists for example have comitted to burning less incense – this is the one that caught my attention most. It is a rather curious idea – when you sit and think about it you can certainly see how that could affect one’s carbon foot print (the harvesting, and burning of plant materials for incense releasing trapped carbon, and/or inhibiting the absorbtion of additional/existing carbon). Here we’ve talked a little bit about incense – and sourcing it locally/indiginously – could that also have a positive effect? Think of the air-miles involved in transporting myrrh, and frankincense for example, whereas something locally grown, or produced in your region would, simply due to the reduction in transport carbon emissions – be greener.

How does your community source the bread used for your local eucharist? How green are Ghostie-toasties? How green is home-baked bread (leavened or unleavened)? I don’t know. I suspect however, that the lamentable bone white wafer is far from being green. But where did the wheat come from for baking your local bread? Here in the UK most of our bread baking wheat, I think, still comes mostly from Canada – eeek!

Would a service lit solely with beeswax candles be greener than say one illuminated with eco-bulbs?

Are we indie folk asking these questions in our communities? If so – what is your community doing?

But while I’m fast approaching my word-limit/post I’d like to re-visit a related topic which is, I suspect, an even more effective means of Indie-Eco-Activism: Food! Food production, and food security is a very serious issue one that has a huge, HUGE impact on ecology and not in your back yard necessarily, but in the back, front, and side gardens of those least able to afford the consequences.

Over the past 100 years throughout the Christian world our theology of food, has quietly smouldered in the background, some of the best elements – like traditional fasting periods – having been eroded, until they are little more than vestigial digits on our calenders.

Perhaps, in our tiny communities of 5, 10, and 20 people we OC/IC folk could inspire a bit of a mini-revolution in theology and praxis that brings the issue of food, and the ecological and social consequences of its production, sale, and consumption to the fore.