[Faith-talk] Slice of Infinity, Another Transaction

Sun Mar 27 21:00:50 UTC 2011

I'm reminded of Micah 6:8   which in escence  says God has showed people
what is good which is to act justly, love mercy and walk humbly with God.
I'm also reminded of what Jesus taught which is to love God with our entire
being and to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.

Melody

 Friday, March 25, 2011 
Another Transaction 
Jill Carattini 
________________________________________

There are a great many companies that think very highly of you and all that
you deserve.  You deserve the best.  You deserve a vacation.  You deserve to
splurge on this because you're worth it.  Even in the midst of economic
downturn, flattery remains one of the most effective psychological drivers
that compounds debt.  In an HSBC Direct survey conducted not long ago,
forty-two percent of the consumers interviewed said they had splurged on
themselves in the past month.  Twenty-eight percent cited their reason for
the splurge, simply "because I deserve it."(1)
Of course, each of us who has ever bought into the idea that L'Oreal thinks
I am worth it or BMW believes I deserve the ultimate driving experience
probably realizes that we have done exactly that: we have bought the idea,
paid for both the product and the flattering suggestion.  No one is giving
away these things because they think we are worth it; their flattery is
quite literally calculated.  In effect, it's not that they think so highly
of us, so much as that they want us to think highly of ourselves.  Whether
we see through the empty sycophancy or not, Geoff Mulgan believes it is
working: "'[B]ecause you're worth it' has come to epitomise banal narcissism
of early 21st century capitalism; easy indulgence and effortless self-love
all available at a flick of the credit card."(2) The enticing words are an
invitation to reward ourselves, and it just so happens we agree with L'Oreal
that we're worth it—and they're glad.  
There is of course much that can be drawn from reflecting on the intemperate
desires of a consumer culture, and the season of Lent, as some attempt to
resist some of their own intemperate desires, provides the space and
invitation to do so.  The days before Easter present the world with an
opportunity to strip away the psychological drivers of empty flattery and
consumer seduction.  And while the worldview of a consumer may not be as
easily shed as chocolate or shopping, the message of the cross gives a
startling commentary on a similar kind of compliment, but a very different
transaction.  Choosing the cross, Christ has indeed proclaimed our worth,
but there is nothing required to accept the unfathomable gesture.  In fact,
there is nothing one could bring to Good Friday that would ever cover the
cost.  Christ has both given the affirmation and paid for it in full.  
Accepting this undeserved accolade requires a dismissal of the very banal
narcissism that epitomizes our numbed consumer hearts.  When it comes down
to it, we may find that we in fact prefer the consumer transaction, that
there is something comforting and familiar in paying for our sense of worth
and value.  We might find it baffling to accept the idea that something
deemed a gift could come to us broken.  Or maybe it is the personal nature
of his brokenness that we find altogether unnerving—namely, he was not
simply broken, he was broken for you.  It is far easier to accept an empty
compliment.
Yet in these days before Easter, we are given good reason to try out the
harder road.  With the worth of the world in mind, Jesus chose such a path
himself.  He took the way of the cross, and he did not come down except to
go to the grave.  Of course, if God could raise him from the cold tomb, God
could certainly have empowered him to step down from the cross.  In the very
public viewing of his own crucifixion, he could have come down in glory and
power for all to see.  It would have silenced the chief priests and the
soldiers; it would have proved that he was not a force to be trifled with. 
And it would have made him a God to whom we could not say no, even if it was
only to say yes out of fear or force.  No instead, he was fully broken for
you.  He was brought down from the cross with the dead weight of
lifelessness.  He was crushed and he was buried.  When we are battered by
the great despairs of the world, when we take the piece of broken bread into
our hands and are given strength for the journey, when we turn to him with
nothing to give but love, we know why. 
It is a transaction that makes every other seem empty, narcissistic, or
fleeting at best.  And it is worth expending everything to claim it.  In my
hand no price I bring; simply to thy cross I cling.  

Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias
International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

(1) "Making Peace with Your Plastic," The Wall Street Journal, Sept 8, 2008.

(2) Geoff Mulgan, "Because You're Worth It," guardian.co.uk, June 12 2006,
accessed March 1, 2009. 