It's odd, isn't it.
In spite of the fact that we have a God who over and over again insists He is the Giver of abundance, we tend to think of "contentment" as meaning "being cheerful with less".
Actually, contentment means "being cheerful with what God has given you", which may or may not be "less" than your neighbor (or sibling, or parents, or coworkers) has. In my case I'm pretty okay with the "less" bit. I think I've got that nailed, mostly--in some ways less is simpler; what bewilders me is being content with having more.
Please note that in saying what I'm about to I am not minimizing the commands Christ gave us to, say, take care of poor people, widows, and the sick. But I've been mulling something over lately, and I'm just putting it out there for you to think about.
American Christians lately are fond of the term "social justice", and of critiquing the national sins of America. I'm not minimizing the sins we commit collectively, whether that's abortion or overspending. But I do want to point out that collective sin can't exist without personal sin, and that it probably makes more sense to repent of personal sin (say, pride, or discontentment) than it does to talk angrily about the national sin that those people are doing.
What I mean by linking contentment to national sin is that, if you are an American, God put you in America at this moment for a reason. Just as Christ did not lead an insurrection against Rome, but instead told people to do boring things like take care of sick people, pay their taxes honestly, and quit stealing at work, so we in America may not actually be called on to change the power structure in our nation. The best way of giving to the poor may not be through redistributing wealth or bitterly sniping at those who refuse (or can't afford) to fund homeless shelters with us--it might be through helping someone inconvenient and closer. Say, asking your annoying mother-in-law, who's a widow and having trouble making her rent, to stay with you this summer, although the prospect makes your tongue itch.
America may or may not be more decadent than other societies that happen to have a lot of material goods. (My vote goes to Greece at the height of its power, actually--sure they invented geometry and democracy, but they also had atrocious sexual mores, no freedom for women, and institutionalized slavery.) The answer is not to put off personal repentance until after national repentance occurs. Instead, be content--that means cheerful, not grimly resigned--to be living in an affluent, possibly decadent society, and do what you know is right.
First of all it's very unlikely that national repentance, on a meaningful level, ever will occur. We've had, by some reckonings, three Great Awakenings in American history. We wouldn't need more than one if they were really the answer, and we know from Scripture that, as we approach the end of time, things get worse and not better. This is not an excuse to exploit others, but it helps us distribute our energy more wisely to know that societies do not matter as much as individuals--since people will exist forever, in heaven or hell, while societies will die in a few hundred years at best. So let's use the political power we have righteously, but let's not kid ourselves that it's our main job.
Secondly, if it ever is to occur, national repentance has to begin as individual repentance.
Let me reiterate that individual repentance often does not mean changing your voting patterns, writing to your congressman, harassing your school board, or burning someone else's collection of heavy metal CDs. (I don't think they'd really burn that well anyway.) Individual repentance usually means something boring and difficult like not snapping at your husband, refusing to feel put upon because you have to shop at Walmart and not Whole Foods, homeschooling the kids cheerfully, or accepting that you would not be a better Christian if only you lived in a developing country instead of surrounded by all these decadent gringos.
The oddity of Christian contentment means we have to work to relieve suffering and promote justice without the hag-ridden zeal of those who reform society as a primary occupation. We don't get to despise the rich or have contempt for the poor. We don't get to blend comfortably with much of anyone--not with those who think the market is the answer to suffering, or with those who think it's socialism. We have to preach generosity to one and refraining from covetousness to the other. We have to repent when our preoccupation with Important Stuff makes us snap at our kids or spend money that ought to have gone to other things.
All in all I think dealing with personal repentance gives us enough to do.
Cheers,
Breanna
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| Murillo's "Holy Family with a Little Bird". Forget for a minute that they were poor, first-century Judeans and not wealthy, sixteenth-century Spaniards. Look at what they're doing. Mary, for instance, has a basket of mending or laundry, and has apparently just stopped long enough to eat something. Joseph and the Baby are playing with the dog, who has gotten into the house again. There is more work waiting in the background, wool to be wound off that swift, for instance. |
Actually, contentment means "being cheerful with what God has given you", which may or may not be "less" than your neighbor (or sibling, or parents, or coworkers) has. In my case I'm pretty okay with the "less" bit. I think I've got that nailed, mostly--in some ways less is simpler; what bewilders me is being content with having more.
Please note that in saying what I'm about to I am not minimizing the commands Christ gave us to, say, take care of poor people, widows, and the sick. But I've been mulling something over lately, and I'm just putting it out there for you to think about.
American Christians lately are fond of the term "social justice", and of critiquing the national sins of America. I'm not minimizing the sins we commit collectively, whether that's abortion or overspending. But I do want to point out that collective sin can't exist without personal sin, and that it probably makes more sense to repent of personal sin (say, pride, or discontentment) than it does to talk angrily about the national sin that those people are doing.
What I mean by linking contentment to national sin is that, if you are an American, God put you in America at this moment for a reason. Just as Christ did not lead an insurrection against Rome, but instead told people to do boring things like take care of sick people, pay their taxes honestly, and quit stealing at work, so we in America may not actually be called on to change the power structure in our nation. The best way of giving to the poor may not be through redistributing wealth or bitterly sniping at those who refuse (or can't afford) to fund homeless shelters with us--it might be through helping someone inconvenient and closer. Say, asking your annoying mother-in-law, who's a widow and having trouble making her rent, to stay with you this summer, although the prospect makes your tongue itch.
America may or may not be more decadent than other societies that happen to have a lot of material goods. (My vote goes to Greece at the height of its power, actually--sure they invented geometry and democracy, but they also had atrocious sexual mores, no freedom for women, and institutionalized slavery.) The answer is not to put off personal repentance until after national repentance occurs. Instead, be content--that means cheerful, not grimly resigned--to be living in an affluent, possibly decadent society, and do what you know is right.
First of all it's very unlikely that national repentance, on a meaningful level, ever will occur. We've had, by some reckonings, three Great Awakenings in American history. We wouldn't need more than one if they were really the answer, and we know from Scripture that, as we approach the end of time, things get worse and not better. This is not an excuse to exploit others, but it helps us distribute our energy more wisely to know that societies do not matter as much as individuals--since people will exist forever, in heaven or hell, while societies will die in a few hundred years at best. So let's use the political power we have righteously, but let's not kid ourselves that it's our main job.
Secondly, if it ever is to occur, national repentance has to begin as individual repentance.
Let me reiterate that individual repentance often does not mean changing your voting patterns, writing to your congressman, harassing your school board, or burning someone else's collection of heavy metal CDs. (I don't think they'd really burn that well anyway.) Individual repentance usually means something boring and difficult like not snapping at your husband, refusing to feel put upon because you have to shop at Walmart and not Whole Foods, homeschooling the kids cheerfully, or accepting that you would not be a better Christian if only you lived in a developing country instead of surrounded by all these decadent gringos.
The oddity of Christian contentment means we have to work to relieve suffering and promote justice without the hag-ridden zeal of those who reform society as a primary occupation. We don't get to despise the rich or have contempt for the poor. We don't get to blend comfortably with much of anyone--not with those who think the market is the answer to suffering, or with those who think it's socialism. We have to preach generosity to one and refraining from covetousness to the other. We have to repent when our preoccupation with Important Stuff makes us snap at our kids or spend money that ought to have gone to other things.
All in all I think dealing with personal repentance gives us enough to do.
Cheers,
Breanna
1 comment:
Nailed it! I think I will steal some of this thunder.
Dad
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