A Smorgasbord of Commodification, Appropriation, and Privilege
The past several weeks I have been thinking quite a bit about privilege, especially those privileges to which I am blind. It’s pretty easy for me to recognize the big privileges. I’m white and well-educated. I was raised in a nuclear family that loved me and protected me. I have always been free to talk about the person I love, to marry that person, and to buy a wedding cake from whomever I darn well please. I have never had to live outside. Well, the list pretty much goes on and on, but lately I have begun to see those hidden privileges that may not even seem like privilege to most people. Reading Vincent Miller’s Consuming Religion: Christian Faith and Practice in a Consumer Culture revealed to me a couple of big privileges I had never considered.
In his introduction, Miller notes that the things we consume have become anonymous to us. “We nourish ourselves on food from nowhere and dress in clothes made by no one.”[1] In the past century, we have become so separated from our supply chain, that we don’t think twice about where our food comes from, whose fingers stitched our clothing, or who stood for hours on a factory floor building our car. T
his anonymity feels like being absolved of responsibility for the practices and processes used in the supply chain. This is the first privilege the Miller’s text highlighted for me. As a citizen of the United States, particularly one who lives in a large city, I never have to think about the supply chain. I may choose to think about it (I mean, I live in Portland and Portlandia gets its shtick from our reality), but I don’t have to. I can head to my favorite local food cart, order my Pad Thai just the way I like it, and enjoy all without ever giving it a thought. That’s privilege.
The second privilege that broadsided me is the privilege of being able to pick and choose the religious practices that suit me. Miller, in discussing the commodification of religion, states, “Religious beliefs and practices are in danger of being extracted from the complex cultures, institutions, and relationships that enable them to inform the shape of daily life.”[2] I’m not Catholic, but I have prayer candles and I recently bought my daughter a lovely St. Cecilia medal as she is the patron saint of music and musicians. I am not Episcopalian, but I love the way the tradition honors the communion table, so my husband and I attend a local Episcopalian church when we are missing the liturgy. I have practices in my life that are incorporated (appropriated?) from Buddhism, Catholicism, and Pentecostalism alongside my own Wesleyan holiness practices. None of these practices threaten my walk with Christ, but neither do they live within the richness of their own traditions. I have commodified these practices because they “work for me.” While Miller’s discussion did not focus on the fact that this commodification is tied to privilege, that is exactly what struc
k me like a sledgehammer! Where else can someone dabble in practices from multiple religions while maintaining the guiding tenets of their own religion without much question? Could a Christian woman in China do this? How about a Jewish woman in Syria? For that matter, could a Muslim woman in America engage religion this way? It never occurred to me that only my privilege as a white American Christian affords me the ability to develop a smorgasbord of religious practices to suit my personal desires at any given time.
Miller suggests that we have been trained to distinguish practices from the traditions and contexts that give them meaning and that restoring them to these contexts can counteract commodification.[3] While one of the reasons I have pulled these practices into my life is because of the way they have been developed and continue to be valued in their own traditions, the problem is that I do not feel that I need to commit to these communities in order to engage the practices. In an odd way, I devalue the practices precisely because I value them over the community into which they were born and nurtured.
As I have meditated on all of this (see what I did there?), I have realized that the ultimate privilege is expressed by the fact that I will likely continue these practices. I will not become a Catholic. I will not become a Buddhist. I might become a Pentecostal or an Episcopalian. If I could find a Wesleyan Holiness tradition that incorporates a liturgy around the Table, all the while focusing on room for the Spirit to speak, I would probably join them. But only if they let me light prayer candles, honor my patron saint, and whisper “Namaste” as we greet each other.
[1]. Vincent J. Miller, Consuming Religion: Christian Faith and Practice in a Consumer Culture, (New York: Continuum, 2004), 3.
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Kristin Hamilton
17 responses to “A Smorgasbord of Commodification, Appropriation, and Privilege”
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A deliciously honest and self-deprecating blog Kristin, though I doubt somehow that you might become a Pentecostal – #justsaying!
The challenges of being embedded in a church tradition and living within a certain community are the strange and demanding constraints that that places on us and our personal tastes, desires and whims. It was Willard that wrote of vampire Christians who want a little bit of the blood of Jesus but not too much of his Lordship.
HAHA. You never know, Geoff. A big part of my formation was at the feet of a lovely AoG woman who taught me how to hear the Spirit.
I do like the allusion to vampires. Sometimes it really does feel like we syphon off those things that make us feel good from other religions without bothering to engage the suffering of their traditions.
Kristin, you have such an engaging way of relating one of the key issues in our consumer culture. On the one hand we do pick and choose what suits us. That might leave out the feeling of community that we want.
On the other hand, I have to honestly say that we are really educated now and we know so much about everyone else’s faith practices. I find myself wishing my husband and I could go to a church where the hymns don’t all sound more like we’re at a funeral than a celebration of the Lord’s goodness. So, see you’re not the only one, just the only one honest enough to say so.
I don’t know what the answer is. I suspect that because of our mobility – we all have cars – it is easy to visit other churches. In the old days it wouldn’t have been so easy.
Thank you, you have me really thinking hard about it!!!
You raise a really good point, Mary. This gathering from other religions and traditions doesn’t have to be bad. Maybe I just need to keep an eye on my motivations.
YESSSS!!! All of it!!! Thank you for being real and genuine in your post! You are not the only one challenging yourself and continuing to wrestle with the questions. I resonated with this post. Miller reminded all of us of our privilege and how we engage daily in society blind to how it has influenced the way in which we worship.
I think it is the blindness that bothers me the most, Christal. I have the privilege to remain blind and just appropriate religious traditions that aren’t from my own. Maybe it isn’t adopting these traditions that is the problem, but the blindness that allows me to choose without really understanding the practices the way they are meant to be understood.
Love this! So, interestingly I think what you have hit on is something that is at once one of the great strengths of Christianity (and something that has played a role in its spread around the world) and highlighted the potential danger in it: the fact that Christianity in and of itself is not rooted in a particular culture – but can be adapted into any and every culture…..
Sooooo, I find myself at once identifying with your concern about privilege and appropriation and at the same time wanting to lift it up as one of the great strengths of our faith.
While there are seemingly endless variations of Christian faith, there are a few ‘essentials’ that almost all of us would agree on that would form a baseline beyond which we have great freedom, not to ‘pick and choose’ at will on a whim, but to seek and identify with on a personal or community level – that doesn’t exist in many other faith traditions.
I thought of the example of the Muslim American woman you referenced…. I wondered if it was a lack of privilege or a restriction from her own faith tradition that was really at issue there – or, I guess it could be both
Shoot. I wrote my comment before I read yours, Chip. I’ll just add an Amen to your thoughts.
I think you are right, Chip. As I said to Christal, it’s the blind appropriation that bothers me the worst. It IS one of our strengths that we can adapt the gospel message to any culture and even to our own needs. What I notice in myself, though, is the privilege to avoid learning about the practices, their history, and the suffering or joy behind them. I don’t think there is anything wrong with lighting candles or even praying the rosary (or Orthodox prayer rope), but if my motivation is just to focus on my own desires rather than the way these practices tie me to a larger community, it’s obnoxious appropriation.
Great post Kristen. I too was intrigued by the way we have become so distant from what we consume. It’s kind of like the mall experience that quickly distanced us from our communities and the businesses that we supported for generations. I sense that we are returning or trying to return to a more simple and local lifestyle—at least I can see it in my sons’ generation. I also see it in the church. Your openness and honesty are refreshing.
I get the same sense, Jim, especially among the millennial generation. There is a desire to return to the essences of faith without the trappings of the 80s and 90s. I like it.
Wow, lots of meat in those thoughts, Kristin. I think you’ve hit on something important. Culturally, once we identify and acknowledge our privilege, we cannot avoid it (I didn’t choose nor can I change my whiteness), but we can choose to use that privilege to honor and advocate for others.
In the same way, our consumer society has privileged us with religious options. Unlike people in other contexts, we MUST make a choice about our religion. We can acknowledge that, then find ways to honor and enrich our community’s and others’ through intercontextual theology and practice. So my experience and studies in African Christianity can enrich my current congregation’s understanding and experience of God and community. But as you aptly say, we have to be careful not to simply appropriate something for ourselves; can we create a multi-directional path though?
“We can acknowledge that, then find ways to honor and enrich our community’s and others’ through intercontextual theology and practice.” Well said, Katy! Adopting other practices for the enrichment of the community is so different than blind appropriation. I love the example of your experience with African theology!
“I have commodified these practices because they “work for me.” While Miller’s discussion did not focus on the fact that this commodification is tied to privilege, that is exactly what struck me like a sledgehammer!”
Kristin, I appreciate you willingness to share your personal thoughts and feelings. It is much easier to critique others than to critique your own beliefs.
The connection to “privilege” was intriguing. Just this morning my wife and I were discussing “white privilege.” What I told her was, “privilege” is certainly dependent on context. An African American or Hispanic my feel less than privileged in the U.S. society where they are not “majority culture.” But as Americans, we ALL are truly privileged when compared to residents of Laos, Pakistan, China, or dozens other countries.
I think that is exactly why it is important for us to not simply appropriate things from those countries and cultures, Stu. Our privilege allows us to “experience” the traditions of those cultures, without experiencing their pain, need, and suffering.
Kristin,
I think we all have admired some of the traditions of other religions and maybe a secret participant. The lighting of candles, the rosary beads keeps one focus, meditation and solitude and great inner connecting techniques.
Good point, Lynda. I think those things ARE valuable to our faith walks. I just want to make sure I do not appropriate them cheaply to make myself feel good. I think the key is in taking the time to understand and appreciate the practices so that they are not merely commodities to me, but valued practices that tie me to the larger community.