I've been reading Noam Chomsky again, and while his writing is typically political in nature, I found one paragraph in particular that touches on something much larger than politics:
What remains of democracy is largely the right to choose among commodities. Business leaders have long explained the need to impose on the population a "philosophy of futility" and "lack of purpose in life," to "concentrate human attention on the more superficial things that comprise much of fashionable consumption." Deluged by such propaganda from infancy, people may then accept their meaningless and subordinate lives and forget ridiculous ideas about managing their own affairs. They may abandon their fate to corporate managers and the PR industry and, in the political realm, to the self-described "intelligent minorities" who serve and administer power.
According to Chomsky, then, people are repressed by the feeling created by our consumer culture that they must have certain things to be happy, that life is meaningless without those things. If only I had the outrageously-priced iPhone 3G (whatever 3G is) I could be happy. If only I had the spouse of my dreams who is the same spouse in the dreams of all of my friends . . . If I could have the perfect child genetically engineered and then implanted into my womb so I could give birth to it and be its almost-mother . . . If only . . .
Chomsky's slant is political, but the problem of feeling that life is meaningless is not new and is not limited to the repression of political freedom. Expecting stuff to make us happy also represses our freedom to truly love the other human beings around us. We become trapped in self-centeredness such that we miss the good things. Consider the words of the Teacher (or Preacher or Qoholeth or whatever, depending on which translation of the Bible you read):
I made great works; I built houses and planted vineyards for myself; I made myself gardens and parks, and planted in them all kinds of fruit trees. I made myself pools from which to water the forest of growing trees. I bought male and female slaves, and had slaves who were born in my house; I also had great possessions of herds and flocks, more than any who had been before me in Jerusalem. I also gathered for myself silver and gold and the treasure of kings and of the provinces; I got singers, both men and women, and delights of the flesh, and many concubines. . . . Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had spent in doing it, and again, all was vanity and a chasing after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun.
In contemporary language we might say that trying to find meaning in the iPhone and the 900-inch plasma TV that hangs on the wall, in the six figure salary, or in any of the countless things that the consumer culture says will make us happy, is stupid. Now, there is nothing at all wrong with enjoying the iPhone or wanting to do a specific kind of work or rising to the top of your profession. But to attach our identities to our jobs, to clutter our lives with consumer goods which will be replaced next year by the latest, greatest thing, and to leave our spouses for no better reason than we want to upgrade, are really bad ideas.
Life is not meaningless, regardless of what the marketing departments of giant corporations would like us to believe. The meaning to life and the reward of working are not things, the fruits of our labor. Rather, the meaning and reward are in living life and doing the work, and finding love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, and self-control in the process. To enjoy the possessions we have is good, a gift from God, but our identity is not tied to them. Chasing after them as if we actually need them is chasing after the wind. Those who chase after the latest gadgets and the six-figure salary in order to find meaning and happiness will find their hearts desolate:
There is an evil that I have seen under the sun, and it lies heavy upon humankind: those to whom God gives wealth, possessions, and honor, so that they lack nothing of all that they desire, yet God does not enable them to enjoy these things, but a stranger enjoys them. This is vanity; it is a grievous ill. A man may beget a hundred children, and live many years; but however many are the days of his years, if he does not enjoy life's good things, or has no burial, I say that a stillborn child is better off than he.
Rather, what is truly good is to
eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of the life God gives us; for this is our lot. Likewise all to whom God gives wealth and possessions and whom he enables to enjoy them, and to accept their lot and find enjoyment in their toil—this is the gift of God. For they will scarcely brood over the days of their lives, because God keeps them occupied with the joy of their hearts.
Now, make no mistake, it's not always easy to find enjoyment in the toil, which is why the Teacher says we have to find enjoyment; we won't necessarily enjoy what we do by default.
What we do will vary from person to person, but I get the sense from the text that the Teacher is implying simple things. To eat and drink and work are very basic things, fundamental to every human being. And lately it seems to be in the doing of simple things that I find myself the most satisfied. I'm learning to take pleasure in ordinary things like establishing a routine at home with my real spouse and my daughter, cooking food instead of eating at McDonald's, raking the yard instead of using a leaf blower, moving stones by hand when building a fire pit, sitting by the fire and talking rather than sitting in front of the TV and being entertained.
In doing these things I get a sense of the greater picture, a connection to God's creation, and to the most important part of that creation—other human beings. And I don't mean in some creepy New-Age kind of way. I mean coming to a truer understanding, although limited by our imperfect human reason, of our place in the universe, of our relationship to God and to our human family. These are the two relationships in which all humans are called to participate, that is, love of God and love of neighbor. And it is through these relationships and our eating, drinking, and working that we find meaning and joy
The myth of consumer-centric happiness and the stuff it sells have no meaning; they are vanity in the literal sense of the word, that is, they have no intrinsic value. All that chasing after stuff accomplishes is to focus man's attention inward, to himself. But man cannot find true meaning looking inward as the Eastern religions would have us believe. Rather it is doing the basic things, eating and drinking and working and not focusing on "stuff," that man can reach outside of himself toward his brothers and sisters, and can look upward to God in whom alone, as St. Augustine points out, that our heart will find rest.
References
Noam Chomsky, Hegemony or Survival: America's Quest for Global Dominance, New York: Henry Holt and Company (2004), p. 139.
Ecclesiastes 2:4–11; 6:1–3; 5:18–20. New Revised Standard Version.