Bamboo Beds, Mallard Ducks, and $12 Oreos
Maybe it’s jetlag. My head is spinning following my recent trip to Bali, Indonesia. Memories of my life there 34-years ago are frequent companions. Moments of grief turned to joy, memories of God’s provision, and reconnection with people I hold dear fill my thoughts. Needless-to-say memories of bamboo beds, mallard ducks, and Oreos sparked by our reading were completely unexpected. What does my title have to do with Vincent Miller’s, Consuming Religion: Christian Faith and Practice in a Consumer Culture, you might ask? I hope to explain.
Consumer Culture
The first six chapters of Miller’s book took us through the history and development of our modern day consumer culture and how it changes our relationship with religious beliefs, narratives, and symbols.[1] Following Bebbington, Weber, and Polanyi it was a helpful addition to understanding my place between two “worlds.” Miller considers our culture of consumerism a “cultural infrastructure” of its own, using all things cultural as “content” which are then commodified, distributed, and consumed. Following Polanyi’s identification of labor, land, and money as commodities, Miller’s particular concern is the commodification of religion, culture, self, and others.[2] We are on sacred ground as issues of faith, and as Fukuyama detailed, identity and dignity, are being targeted.[3] This raises the issue of exploitation. Concerns regarding fair trade, sweat shops, worker rights, child labor, etc. come to mind. Our drive to consume will consume and dehumanize us if this ‘spirit,’ as Weber indicated, goes unchecked.[4] I am unsettled as I reminisce and consider my response.
Who am I Fighting for?
In Chapter 7, Miller concludes with a focus on responding to the problems of living in a consumer culture. It is important to note that Miller does not view our consumer culture simply as a “clash of beliefs, values, or cultures that pits consumerism against Christianity” though obviously conflicts arise.[5] I find that thought intriguing. If I am not at war with the enemy of consumerism, what or who am I fighting against? Maybe I am asking the wrong question. After all, consumerism and capitalism are not going anywhere. Might not the better question be, who am I fighting for? Should there be a fight or a different kind of response? Dr. Clark points out, “…we understand Christianity as neither renouncing the world, nor leaving it to its relentless drive to consumption.”[6] This moves me to a more personal question. How can my choices as a consumer better address the needs of those exploited by a culture that commodifies their existence in pursuit of more?
The Single-Family Home and the “American Dream”
I was intrigued by the shifts Miller described in the US. Specifically, how the single-family home and the “America Dream” became major players in our consumption habits.[7] These two cultural ideals became commodities. Ideals I cherish while at the same time live with the demands, disruptions, and tensions that modern consumerism has created for the attainment, enjoyment, and justification of my dreams. Miller, writing of the single-family home notes the unexpected challenges that emerged, “social isolation, narrowed political and social concern, and the fragmentation of culture.”[8] Is the “American dream” turning into a nightmare creating ever-widening disconnection between us while tainting our Christian witness?
Between Two “Worlds”
So where do bamboo beds, mallard ducks, and $12 Oreos fit into this? Due to a number of challenges my year in Bali was financially difficult. When I arrived in Bali the summer of 1989 I had not lived in my own home for several months. In fact, most of our time in Indonesia we lived communally in guest houses, shared homes, and with Indonesian families. We had a glorious 10-months in our own home in Jakarta and I was longing for private space for my little family. My “culture” of the single-family home was screaming loudly.
Upon renting a simple house we needed basic furniture. Most pieces were gifted by Indonesian friends, but we needed a bed. The cheapest available was an over-sized and very uncomfortable bamboo bed, complete with a hot pink foam mattress. It cost $200, a small fortune at the time. A year later, I spotted that same bed on sale in a department store in Singapore for a whopping $2500!
We had many visitors come to Bali. They loved shopping at the artisan markets. Beautifully hand-carved and painted mallard ducks were all the rage. They ranged in price from $3-$10. I was genuinely concerned for the young children who painted them. Today, organizations come along-side Balinese artisans to promote fair-trade practices. Here is one example. https://www.novica.com
Food was cheap and delicious in Bali. A generous friend supplied us with kilos of fresh shrimp and flats of coca-cola, while our garden kept us in over-abundant supply of bananas. Trips to the local supermarket were rare. On one such outing I spotted the package of $12 Oreos.
I am struck by the price we pay for things; and the misplaced value and meaning they represent.
My financial and living situation is much different today. My home in the US is a gracious story of God’s provision, my father’s time and skill, and my father-in-law’s generosity. I have benefited from the care and concern of others within two vastly different “worlds” while offering care and support to others. It is a beautiful and complex tension to hold.
Dr. Clark states, “We will only know who we really are by the re-ordering of our agency, the transfer of object and subject of self, in relationship to the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.”[9] This sparks my imagination and helps me notice the “islands of social care” in my current context and opens up space to consider my responses and involvement.
My choices will not change the trajectory of the commoditization of culture or religion. I will always value my experiences of communal living and generous welcome, while enjoying my single-family lifestyle. I must regularly pause to seek a balanced and intentional response to consuming and living out my faith in a conscientious and Christ-honoring manner. The $12 Oreos remained on the shelf and the bamboo bed given away. Though the mallard duck was never purchased, over the years I supported local artisans throughout SE Asia. I kept several pieces as reminders of a cherished life. I want my consuming habits to reflect my values, show concern for the well-being of others, and respect the cultures which I encounter. I’m a work in progress.
[1] Vincent J. Miller, Consuming Religion: Christian Faith and Practice in a Consumer Culture (New York: Continuum, 2008), 3.
[2] Vincent J. Miller, Consuming Religion, 77.
[3] Francis Fukuyama, Identity: The Demand for Dignity and the Politics of Resentment (New York: Picador, 2018), 9-10.
[4] Max Weber and Stephen Kalberg, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism: The Revised 1920 Edition (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 76.
[5] Vincent J. Miller, Consuming Religion, 179.
[6] Jason Paul Clark, “Evangelicalism and Capitalism: A Reparative Account and Diagnosis of Pathogeneses in the Relationship” (DMIN diss., George Fox University, Newberg,2018), 202-203.
https://digitalcommons.georgefox.edu/gfes/132
[7] Miller, Consuming Religion, 46.
[8] Ibid., 48.
[9] Jason Paul Clark, Evangelicalism and Capitalism, 236.
About the Author
Jenny Dooley
Jenny served as a missionary in Southeast Asia for 28 years. She currently resides in Gig Harbor, Washington, where she works as a Licensed Mental Health Counselor and Certified Spiritual Director in private practice with her husband, Eric. Jenny loves to listen and behold the image of God in others. She enjoys traveling, reading, and spending time with her family which include 5 amazing adult children, 3 awesome sons-in-law, a beautiful daughter-in-law, and 8 delightful grandchildren.10 responses to “Bamboo Beds, Mallard Ducks, and $12 Oreos”
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Thank you for writing about shaping our consumption habits to reflect our values. It’s a topic that I wanted to blog about until my post kind of took on a life of its own and went a different direction. It’s also a topic that my family has been thinking more and more about and we’ve changed many of our habits over the past 3-5 years. Many of the practices that we’ve put in place are fairly specific to our urban context. I would be curious to hear any specifics that you’d be willing to share, especially whatever practices might work specifically because of the context where you live.
Hi Kim, All these posts of late have gotten away from me. It’s always a surprise where I land. In my current context here in the US I feel very privileged and miss my simpler life. Moving every few years always gave us a restart as 70% of our things were given away before a relocation. When I came back to the US from Vietnam we had lived there for 13 years. With that kind of stability and a large family came more stuff. Since we were returning “home” and had nothing here we shipped many of our belongings. Now, it feels like a burden. So to answer your question, as my husband and I are getting older and the kids gone, we are planning to downsize and live more simply. It is easy to give money, send shoe boxes, and contribute to the local food bank etc… but I want to be more aware, involved, and with people. I am currently looking for a need that I can help out with in person. With Christmas coming I want to support local businesses. In my little town they have been suffering and many have closed. I don’t feel that my answer is satisfactory. Still working in it!
Jenny, You ask a good question:
How can my choices as a consumer better address the needs of those exploited by a culture that commodifies their existence in pursuit of more?
For me this comes down to an issue of trust. Even in buying clothes, I don’t always know who has been paid to make them and I want to know that someone is being paid fairly. Giving to organizations is also a point of trust. One question I have for you is since you have lived two different lives, how would you compare your life of faith as you lived in Bali compared to your life here in the U.S.?
Hi Pam, Thanks for the question. My life of faith in Bali and for that matter in SE Asia felt more like an adventure. I knew I didn’t have enough….(fill in the blank, money, know how, confidence) but God always supplied. I didn’t have the band width or feel the pull to take matters into my own hands. We did the best with what we had personally and with the ministry and God was so incredibly faithful. Money was not the rudder to our vision. Here, everything is so planned and structured it is easy to fall into the mindset that I have to make things happen, have a bottom line dollar amount that sets the vision, and a different kind of stress in getting the job done. There is stress in both worlds, but it does seem to be more financial in the US. I hope that answers your question. I will keep reflecting on it.
Jenny, I enjoyed your recollections of your experiences and desires from your time in SE Asia. I can relate to memories of being in a foreign country, deprived of some familiar item, and the longing that came. It is funny to think about how important these things were in the moment and how our perspective changes with time and distance.
I wanted to hear more about your experience with the challenges that came from single family living. You referenced Miller’s observations of “social isolation, narrowed political and social concern, and the fragmentation of culture…” can you relate to that? When your family moved into its own dwelling rather than sharing with others, did any of those challenges arise for you?
Hi Jenn,
Actually, living in cultures in which community and hospitality are the norm, we adopted that style for our family. Everyone was welcome and we used our home for ministry several times per week for fellowship, teaching, and hospitality purposes. Every church we planted started in our home or the home in which we were staying. A number of our NGO outreach programs took place in our front yard. We had to set boundaries and specific times for the normal running of our family. When our kids were teenagers we would talk as a family and were very specific with the activities we could host. We all enjoyed it and felt more a part of the ongoing ministry and church life. I could have easily become more isolated if my home was off limits. I feel that we found a good balance of our home being a haven for us and a place community and support for others.
Hi Jenny,
I nice peek into your missionary experiences.
Not to diminish his study/book, I find it incredibly relevant in the U.S. and parts of the EU, but it is not hard for me to see through the eyes of a Hungarian/Slovak or now a Ukrainian Christian where “consumption (is not) the dominant cultural practice” (p. 225). Personally, living with dirt roads, an outhouse in the backyard (moved twice), the smell of manure in the morning, “survival and adaptation in a post-communist environment” is the cultural practice of these spaces (Mikepercs, Hungary – my home of 10 years).
Christianity in these places sometimes follows rigid traditional practices (men on one side, women on the other with kids in the back-Hungary). Sometimes, they remain hidden in Slovak building basements hiding the fact that a church meets there. Sometimes they suffer the indignation of “special police” intruding into their sacred space to make sure evangelizing is not going on (Turkey).
Having lived 30 years overseas in a variety of different cultures, my response to this is “Wow – a 1st World problem. “
Shalom…
Hi Russell,
I’m kind of tired of my 1st World problems! Too much time and energy wasted. It may come as a surprise, but I do miss the dirt roads, power outages, and daily walks to the market. There was a different rhythm to life. I don’t miss the crazy traffic of the more urban areas I lived, having my phone bugged, my children watched by the police, and stressing about visas. There is a trade off. God is in all of it so I will be content.
You said “I am struck by the price we pay for things; and the misplaced value and meaning they represent”. I agree with that statement. I lived in Chicago for 6 years and I was always shocked and had to understand consumerism and its power over all of us and what we feel we have the “right” to. What I would see is tall buildings, run down, long frozen icicle coming out of windows from broken pipes and hundreds of satellite dishes out of each of the windows. There are complicated socio-economic factors at play, but it’s a confusing world out there and how it all just seeps into our way of life. I was drawn back to steal like an Artist book again and how it advised us to get out there and travel. Thank you for bringing Bali to all of us:).
Jenny, I don’t have a question necessarily for you but was moved by your statement “I want my consuming habits to reflect my values, show concern for the well-being of others, and respect the cultures which I encounter. I’m a work in progress”. Me too Jenny!
Hi Jana,
Thank you for your comments. I am searching for balance, awareness, and wisdom. Even as we consider our options for down-sizing, no matter how simple we live here in the US we are living like kings by comparison to much of the rest of the world.