Reflection: Materialism & Ownership

A recent re-reading of a well-known scripture passage had me thinking:

As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” … Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth. Jesus looked around the said to his disciples, “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!” (Mark 10:17, 21-23)

One might imagine that a reading of this passage might have me in high spirits. After all, did I not leave 95% of my earthly possessions in America to come to Mali and give help to the poor? Did I not do what the rich young man failed to do by coming to the West African Savannah? Has not my actions helped me to acquire more treasure in heaven? In my naivety and arrogance, I am embarrassed to say that some of these thoughts crossed my mind as I skimmed the passage over.

However, something in my reasoning was amiss, so I read it again. What stood out to me was Jesus’ compassionate accusation: “One thing you lack.” Jesus states that the one thing standing between the young man and the life eternal is not something he has (ie. wealth), but rather something he does not have. What could he have lacked? Generosity, I concluded. He’s a money-hording scrooge, and what he lacks is a generous heart. I liked this answer because it was not something I lack… since I’m so generously helping the poor in Africa.

But still, something was amiss. The passage sets up the rich young man to be an individual of high moral character. Though not quoted above, in the passage he claims to have kept all of the Jewish commandments, including those (one can assume) on being charitable. So, if he doesn’t lack generosity, what is it?

To my dismay, the answer is something that I still lack as well. And in fact, my time here in Mali has only highlighted how severely I lack it. It is freedom from materialism.

I know this now that I look around my mud hut that I am surprisingly possessive of. It’s my two room hut, filled with my tools, my clothes and my stuff. When Malians ask me to give them things (which is usually intended as a compliment), I am immediately defensive and dismissive. So what if I have some extra vegetable seeds? Maybe I’ll need them next season? Go find your own. Or, how dare you walk into my garden without my permission? You see the fence? This is my land, so get off!

And yet, all of these feelings are toward things that we very much intend on abandoning in just over a year to come back home. In fact, we talked about it the other day, and Joye and I can only imagine bringing about some electronics and souvenirs. Moreover, our goal here should not be to see how much stuff we can acquire, but rather, how many people we are able to serve. So, why then am I so protective and possessive?

Well, part of it can be justified. Creating a mindset that villagers can be dependent on foreign hand-outs is not the right thing to do. Just as many Americans grow up thinking it’s okay to make fun of short people (“midgets”), many Malians have the sad worldview that tells them that foreigners exist to be rich and give stuff. Under this perspective, it is perfectly acceptable to beg for your starving family while spending all of rainy season drinking tea. Being that our work as Peace Corps volunteers is about “helping people help themselves,” there is a fine line between generosity and reckless charity. Again, the rich young man’s problem was not stinginess, but becoming emotionally attached to material goods.

Honestly, more than anything, I think it’s hardwired into me. Materialism and a sense of property are cornerstones of American culture. However, it’s difficult to see it as a problem unless you’re on top. For example, how can I be materialistic when my neighbors are the one flaunting the sports car, Jacuzzi, and get-a-way cabin on Lake (Native American name)? But here in Mali, I am on top, which is why I am noticing just how materialistic I truly am. Additionally, Mali has a culture in which nearly everything is shared. The contrast between our mindset and theirs is apparent on a daily basis.

When Jesus says that it’s hard for the rich to enter the kingdom of God, it is not because the rich are necessarily stingy people. Rather, it’s because our love of material goods and ideals about property ownership conflict greatly with the spiritual and communal life that God has intended for humanity. Just as it is silly for me to defensively “own” stuff that I plan on abandoning in just over a year, I think Jesus would say it is silly to invest so much effort and concern in the material world that we, as Christians, plan on abandoning when it’s time to go home to God.

So in reality, this passage puts me in a state of repentance, not pride. Hopefully, it is a flaw that I can work on in my remaining time here in Mali and again back in the States – that is, learning how to see the material goods around me as gifts from God to be shared with others, instead of possessions that I am entitled to. It was Jesus’ challenge to the rich young man, and it continues to be his challenge to me.

- James (& Joye) Allen

P.S. I simply want to emphasize that while the subject of this blog post is religious in nature, these views only reflect those of the author, and not Peace Corps as an organization. As a Peace Corps volunteer, I am not permitted to proselytize my faith to others, but as a U.S. citizen, I am permitted to practice my religion publicly. Thus, this post is simply an exercise of my freedom of speech and religion following an afternoon of humble reflection. Thank you.