Capitalism and the Kingdom

To begin, we must straighten out some badly warped facts: what exactly is a “free market?” As I understand it, a free market merely implies that men must make their exchanges of competitive (limited) goods by mutual consent, to mutual benefit; a free market excludes stealing, cheating, extortion, or wheedling. Some conservatives treat the market as though it were a talisman, imbuing every human situation it touched with dignity, freedom, and well being. However, a free market is only an environment—it determines how men exchange values, not what values they exchange.
I believe America’s economy (from the Greek economon, meaning “household rules”) reels under a grave illness, called consumerism. The blame lays not primarily with evil corporations, but within the society itself, within the increasingly fragmented, disconnected, rapacious collection of individuals, who seem content to sacrifice anything good and decent to better worship the idol of our era, the Dollar.
Let me explain: I take no issue with money as money, as a medium of exchange, as a concrete representation of a greater value. I take great issue with money as a standard of value, which inevitably means money as Idol, money worshipped as a god.
Look at the covers of our popular magazines, and deny that we live in a culture infatuated with wealth. Look at the weekly sales figures of Starbucks, Macy’s, or McDonald’s (first among the vendors of frivolity), and pretend that Americans can live without furious consumption. I heap just as much judgment on myself as on any other individual—even as I outlined this, sitting next to a peaceful mountain lake, I astonished myself to look down at a Diet Dr. Pepper clutched in my hand, which I had bought for a dollar, with scarcely a thought to the fact that I was neither thirsty, nor rich!
We have equated health with wealth, and so enslaved ourselves to a lifestyle (note the singular tense—consumerism largely means the end of imagination) of endless accumulation. We have embraced a myth called Progress—if we can only have next bigger, shinier, newer, trendier house, car, laptop, phone, shoe, outfit, latte, our lives will fill with meaning, and our souls with peace.
I believe the gospel offers a stunning alternative to consumerism. Remember yesterday’s post—the gospel offers a better story; one of God’s restoring all of creation. The Hebrew word for God’s renewing the harmony between Himself, men, and His earth is shalom, which we generally translate “peace,” though “wholeness” probably fits more clearly. Shalom is health—every part living in harmony with the whole (cf. Ezekiel 34 for a biblical instance of this idea).
The gospel calls for a new kind of society, one in which people give generously out of the prosperity they graciously receive, one in which forgiveness and mercy—not greed and malice—act as arbiters between men, one in which each thinks of others—his neighbors, his enemies, his environment—before himself. In the Kingdom, we can say, “Enough!” In the Kingdom, we do not hunger for things we don’t need, and that cannot satisfy. In the Kingdom, we do not poison ourselves, or pillage our home, for the expedience of the moment. In the Kingdom, our mantra is not, “More, and cheaper,” but, “Enough, and better.”
Now, many see free markets as irreconcilable enemies of this vision, as though consumerism and greed were the only values up for exchange. I think that free markets allow men to choose shalom over greed—but greed is easier than shalom, so few will. “Narrow is the way that leads to life…”
When we order our daily lives, our values should be those of the Kingdom. We should eat food that honors creation, food that grows in a sustainable, healthy harmony with its surroundings. When we need them, we should buy clothes produced by generous entrepreneurs, crafted by workers permitted to lead lives as full as they choose to pursue. We should limit (and, perhaps, eliminate) our use of fuels and vehicles that wound the planet, or contribute to the oppression of our neighbors. Above all, we should not spend our money on anything that does not bring the Kingdom to life. If a trip to Starbucks, H & M, or Apple deepens our consumerist worship, then it is money ill-spent. Jesus spoke lucidly when he called woes on the rich—most Americans wield spending power far beyond their capacity to use wisely. Every dollar is a weapon, wielded either to break the hold of darkness on our hearts, or to strike out against the Kingdom. We will not find a middle ground—there is no “frivolous purchase.”
As Christians, we must employ our wealth in building the Kingdom. This means spending towards Kingdom values—community, generosity, freedom, healing, truth, environmental stewardship. This does not mean isolating some portion of our income to throw at whatever bum or charity first solicits us, so that we can guiltlessly purchase any triviality catches our eyes, whether a $4 latte, or a $70 pair of jeans. No, the Kingdom demands much more than that—Christians must spend their every dollar on redeeming the world. This means investing in the right business venture, the right education, the right social action, the right vehicle, even the right coffee.