Covenant or Consumer?
Connections with God and Others
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how the evolution of consumerism has lead to a paradigm shift in the way we view every aspect of life. Deep, right?
It’s true though, and I notice it especially in the way we talk about time: saving time, spending time, investing time, etc. I understand what those phrases mean, and I can see where one might use them—I use them—but I do think it’s odd that we are so entrenched that we have started to see certain things as products that we buy instead of spaces that we exist within. You can’t own time, or use it, just as you can’t own people—the idea is disturbing.
“In a consumer society, people are objects. This comes in one of two varieties: As the saying goes, if you are not paying for the product, then you are the product. Either you are simply a source for someone else’s income as the buyer or, worse, you are the product being sold…”1
Maybe it’s the fact that the ease of online shopping (or even just the ability to google something at the drop of a hat) has contributed to a perennial sense of impatience. Developing a connection with God or with another person has become a low stakes, instant gratification game: If I ask a question, God will answer right away. If I need to feel loved, God will immediately reciprocate.
I am not saying that God never answers questions, or that God never shows love. I am also not saying that there shouldn’t be a base level of trust in God and His goodness and timing. I am saying that sometimes relationships are about sacrifice and vulnerability. I am also saying that asking difficult questions in life requires courage, and for some it is easier to believe that God does not exist than to put themselves on the line and continue asking again and again and again. It is in the process of asking and waiting that we are transformed into disciples. If our relationship with God was simply a transaction (i.e. I input one prayer and the output is one blessing from God) then growth would never occur.2
“The consumer model is about acquiring possessions. It values detailed knowledge, metrics, research, and analytics and prioritizes the known and certain. But the model of the covenant is different. It prizes faith, empathy, loyalty, curiosity, and discovery. To be clear, there is a comfort in being a consumer. One knows the product, reads the warranty, and has the instruction manual. There is very little risk. In the covenantal model, however, there is exposure, vulnerability, uncertainty, and great risk. But the upside is different as well. The consumer model is only transactional; the covenantal model is transformational.”3
The even darker side of the consumer model is that when everything is viewed as a product, we begin to see God and others as something to own or control. People are not objects, and in our commodified world we forget that part of the beauty of connection is witnessing others as they are—not as we hope them to be.4
“This focus on the “I” fosters a very individualistic, egocentric culture in which one is constantly reminded by product placements and commercialism of all that one does not have instead of being thankful for what one does have. And the result is obvious, as Rabbi Sacks writes: “Through constant creation of dissatisfaction, the consumer society is in fact a highly sophisticated mechanism for the production and distribution of unhappiness…”
What if God is speaking, and we just don’t hear Him? Wouldn’t it be a shame if we were too distracted by our expectation of a certain type of answer that we forget to pay attention to His other messages? Wouldn’t it be upsetting if we forgot to notice the existing goodness in the people around us because we are so focused on our preconceived assumptions about them?
Whether it’s with God or another person, it’s dangerous to measure the ebb and flow between giving and taking. As C.S. Lewis (supposedly) said “Love is never wasted, for its value does not rest on reciprocity.”
“Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.”
“Relationships, unlike purchases, are things that evolve and deepen—they are created together. A purchase is unilateral. If a car doesn’t meet your specifications, it will not serve your purposes. But [relationships are] covenantal. It is not about objects but about relationships, and it requires leaps of faith.”
My connection with God is different now than it was two years ago, and it was different two years ago than it was two years before that. I am sure in two years from now I will see more changes. The beauty of believing in God is that He is a constant Force in the universe, even as I ebb and flow. He may not always answer, but He is always there. It’s ironic that my relationship with God is created alongside God, even when I don’t feel Him, but that’s how faith goes I guess. He doesn’t always show up in the ways I expect, but I’ve committed; and I’m sure I don’t always meet His specifications, but He’s still there when I look around. That’s a covenant love. :)
All of the quotes from this post are from Ari Berman’s BYU forum address in 2023: https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/ari-berman/covenant-versus-consumer-education/
It’s also worth noting that a relationship with God will always be asymmetrical. We will never be able to reciprocate what He has given, so the relationship naturally caters itself to our personal transformation within His love (which, significantly, is unconditional).
In this context Berman is talking about relationships, but he goes on to say how the covenant model works to combat the consumer model in education and other aspects of life. In his words, “A consumer model questions value. A covenant model discovers value, and a life of covenant brings mystery, meaning, and purpose.” In education and life, “commitment precedes knowledge.” It’s about the commitment to the beauty of constant discovery (verb), not about the utility of the discovery (noun).
I agree that the joys in life are most often the sacrifices and commitments we make (especially the ones we make without measuring or expectation of return), but there is also some dissonance here for me, maybe from witnessing so many divorces recently. Where’s the line? How much giving of yourself without reciprocation is too much? Where does selflessness end and self-sabotage begin? I guess I just want to clarify that I don’t think leaving a destructive situation is a result of consumerism. I do think in general though that relationship quality has gone down because people see other people as replaceable objects or things to control and are not willing (or don’t know how) to connect/sacrifice in the way a less-consumerist, less-technological society used to require.