Black Friday a spiritual affair

I’m not shopping this Black Friday. I refuse to be drawn in by the advertisements, only to find myself lost in the hustle of a crammed shopping mall or the disheveled parking lots of the big box stores. Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll avoid the crowds congregating during this Christmas sell-off that has somehow crept into the Canadian consciousness.

That’s right, I’m waiting for Cyber Monday. So much easier to just sit at home and scroll through the deals. 

For as much as I protest the commercialism of Christmas, I get suckered in every time. Or at least part of the time. Or to be more accurate, on and off throughout the year. 

Like a migraine, it’s unpredictable – I never know exactly when it will happen. The last time it came upon me was in June, when my iPhone’s second battery started to disintegrate. This designed obsolescence is part of Apple’s cruel genius, for as soon as it happened, my heart began to flutter... Could it really, maybe, possibly – be time for a new iPhone? 

I didn’t even consider other brands, ignoring the fact that Apple has manipulated my weak mind with its flawed design. All so that I can pursue something new and glorious – the iPhone XR!  

You might have guessed that technology is my greatest weakness. Although I don’t necessarily own the latest and greatest of every tech gadget, I crave the latest and greatest tech gadget, and perhaps this is the greater sin: desire. 

One writer in the latest edition of The Canadian Mennonite (if you haven’t picked up a copy, I suggest you borrow one at your earliest convenience) suggests our consumer culture has become our new religion. We cling to the things we buy and desire like idols. For those of us familiar with the Christian tradition, these purchases become our salvation. And the mall becomes our place of worship. 

Now I take some umbrage with the idea of malls being transcendent. They’re so 1990s, after all. If anything comes close to the modern church, it’s the new Costco on the east side of our city. Talk about selection! 

But like most shopping experiences, there lacks a sense of community. We might be together physically, and sure, we might bump into someone we know (there’s a 90% chance at Costco) but in reality, we’re on an individual journey to get what we want. 

And what we want is fleeting. Like the latest iPhone, it’s only a matter of time before the intrigue wears off and you’re hooked to it like an IV full of morphine. 

Whether you’re religious or not, most of us understand things fail to bring happiness. Over and over, the prophets of the modern world tell us that inanimate objects cannot bring joy, and a higher societal status will not bring fulfillment. We happily ignore these realities, of course, partially because the advertisers hold the upper hand, but also because we want so desperately to feel good. 

But looking at your neighbour's stuff with envy will only make you miserable. Being in want – and oh, how I’ve wanted! – will only leave you in despair. 

If we’re not careful, we can become isolated and detached from the needs and wonders of the world. In his book Team Human, Douglas Rushkoff reminds us to reconnect with actual people (not just on Facebook) and with nature. We will become healthier, more resilient and more empathetic. 

There are real limits to our consumer culture. Not only pertaining to the earth, but our frail human spirit. 

Amen?