Healing Ministry Volume 12, Number 1, Winter 2005

Healing Ministry Volume 12, Number 1, Winter 2005

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F

rom the pulpit

Thankfulness, consumerism, and the prophet within Father Thomas Johnson-Medland, CSJ

PROOF COPY ONLY - DO NOT DISTRIBUTE In the early morning, I have taken to running along the canal near my home. It is peaceful, still, and clears my head on most days. I find that the rhythmic pounding of my feet along with my heart causes things to bubble up out of me that are longing to be set free, as though there is an inner prophet able to speak only in the stillness of the predawn day. I have taken to listening to his words and stories, for they give me a new vision every now and then, one that I may take back to color the routines of my life. I sometimes wonder about this Father Thomas Johnson-Medland, CSJ, Lighthouse Hospice, Cherry Hill, New Jersey.

presence of the “other” inside. I find myself scratching my head and trying to decide where he begins and I end. But mostly, I am appreciative of the new way to view life, and am in awe of the fact that there are ever-revealing and ever-deepening resources within each and every one of us. Today, I heard the prophet speak thus: “The greed and avarice of our society pushes us toward cancer, terrorism, and global pollution.” It is not a new set of words to ponder, but there is a clear feeling of truth to them. I suppose they were drawn out of me when I saw the mounds of trash wrapped around trees along the edge of the river, a reminder of grandeur disrupted.

We would do well to take stock of how much trash each home discards. I am astounded each week at the amount of plastic I send back out and into the world. How can we wonder why the earth is so fragile? In American culture, consuming goes unchecked. We give little thought to acquiring more and more stuff. This is true in the workplace (we need more business, more clients, more profit) and in the home (we need more space, more services, and more stuff to fill it). Some aspects of consumerism have gotten to the point of absurdity. Children no longer go to fast-food restaurants simply for the unhealthy, overpackaged, yet

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Healing Ministry Volume 12, Number 1, Winter 2005

PROOF COPY ONLY - DO NOT DISTRIBUTE cleverly marketed meals; now they base their choices on the additional plastic junk toys the restaurants give out. There must be hundreds of unused plastic junk toys in any home with children under 16. I’ve even seen them showing up in garage sales, as if they had any value. This is one of the deepest changes mass consumerism makes in us—it changes our idea of what is valuable. The erratic compulsiveness that has emerged in our society due to our belief that we can and should have almost anything we can imagine has diverted our ability to determine what has true value. It has also pushed us away from deriving worth and meaning from the things we do have in our lives, whether those things are objects, principles, ideas, feelings, or people. When I hold in my heart the countless number of individuals and families that have had cancer ravish their lives—when I consider the boundless pain inflicted by this aggressive and unrelenting illness—I am reminded of how much cancer is akin to mate-

rialism and mass-consumerism. It seems to me that what cancer does to the body is similar to what consumerism does to the planet. Both are empty entities. Both flourish in places where soulfullness, awareness, and consciousness are absent. Cancer eats tissue with no concern for life; consumers seek to obtain whatever is in their path with no concern for present or future life. Ironically, these acquisitions never bring lasting pleasure or fulfillment. The Tibetans have a category of beings entitled “Empty Ghosts/Hungry Ghosts”; these beings continually consume but are never sated. Isn’t that a metaphoric description of consumerism? Terrorism, destruction of the natural world, isolation, cancer, distancing ourselves from the voices in our souls—are these not different manifestations of the same beast? As I run, as my thoughts drift back to the beauty of the canal, to the joy of the earth and her rhythms, the prophet says, Tell people. Show them why they’re unhappy, what they’re doing wrong.

The prophet says, How many phones do you need? How many televisions do you need? How many cars, stereos, CDs, meals out, new suits, shoes, toys? How much will be enough? Do you realize it will never be enough? The prophet says, Ask them. Don’t scold them or give them the answer. Just ask. I have a wealth of abundance that is unrelated to my income or the type of car I drive. I am filled with awe and wonder at the power that comes with choosing to be thankful for what I already have and am connected to. Being satisfied may be a dying art, but it appears to be the antidote to avarice. Thankfulness may not play well on Wall Street, but it remedies the desire to consume. The radiant glow of a golden sassafras leaf interrupts my ponderings. How wonderfully rich is the color, the deep red of the leaf to its left in such stark contrast. “Wow.” What else can we say to the gift of such delicious, simple beauty? Thank you. Thank you for the leaf.