Greed: Vice or Virtue?
I have no idea how many times my wife and I have watched A Christmas Carol with George C. Scott, but ever since it first appeared on television in 1984, we have watched the movie each holiday season at least two or three times. Scott is the perfect Scrooge—stingy, mean-spirited, odious, asocial, and, well, the list goes on.
Dickens’ novella has so many wonderful lines that are captured in the made-for-television classic that I find it difficult to single out one, but this year one particular dialogue has stayed with me. The exchange takes places as Scrooge and the Ghost of Christmas Present are walking through the market square where people are engaged in a variety of business transactions. The as yet unrepentant miser caustically remarks to the Ghost that there is a lot of buying and selling going on. The Ghost looks at the churlish Scrooge and says, “Is that all you see?”
What the narrow-minded Scrooge misses is the joy that people experience when they have enough to eat and drink, as well as the satisfaction people gain when they can share the earth’s bounty with others—family, friends, and especially strangers. The spirit of Christmas has a way of reinforcing the biblical truth that it is more blessed to give than to receive. The excitement and merriment that Scrooge sees on the faces of both young and old bears this out. Since Scrooge worships profit alone, however, he is incapable of knowing the joy of giving. His cold heart simply cannot grasp why people celebrate this glorious season of the year.
After three Christmas Ghosts have shown Scrooge the joys he has missed in life because of his selfish ways, he repents of his stinginess and becomes a changed man. His generosity becomes immediately evident when he gives an errand boy an extravagant sum of money for fetching the local butcher on Christmas morning. Then, he buys the prize goose for the Crachit family for Christmas dinner—anonymously. The reformed Scrooge wants nothing for himself but the joy of giving.
But that’s only the beginning. He gives generously to a children’s choir raising money for a charity, something he has never done before. He meets two men on the street who are soliciting funds for the poor and needy, who he has rebuffed time and again, but this time he initiates conversation with them. He quickly apologizes for his failure to help the poor and needy in the past and whispers a donation amount that obviously thrills the two men.
Finally, when Bob Crachit returns late to work after Christmas and fears his tardiness will cost him his job, Scrooge shocks him by doubling his salary, with the additional promise that his disabled son, Tim, will walk again. And then, Scrooge invites Crachit for a Christmas drink in the afternoon, where he will discuss how he can further help Crachit’s family.
The story ends with Ebenezer and tiny Tim walking hand in hand down a London street. Not only has the boy been healed of his disability, but Scrooge, too, has been healed of his disability—his miserly heart, a far greater disability than a lame leg.
Dicken’s classic tale teaches an important truth: A self-centered life can never be a contented life. The author of the Bible’s Ecclesiastes would concur. He knew all about self-indulgence. He writes that he denied himself nothing. His great wealth and power allowed him to have whatever he wanted, nothing was beyond his reach (Eccl. 2). Yet, he confesses that after a lifetime of having all his desires fulfilled, his life was empty and without meaning.
Today’s American culture has lost its way when it comes to selfless living. Whatever Judeo-Christian ethos we once had, however flawed, and it was flawed, has now been virtually wiped out. One commercial goes so far as to say, “Be sure and give to the most important person in your life—you.” Later, in the same ad, the narrator continues, “Be number one on your gift list.” I can’t imagine how earlier generations of Americans would have viewed these kinds of advertisements.
John Wesley
John Wesley’s moral and ethical advice, “Make all you can, save all you can, and give all you can,” influenced large sections of American life in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Many of the wealthy capitalists, men like John D. Rockefeller, believed that the making of money was to be used for the good of their fellowman. Greed was viewed as a vice.
Unfortunately, as America became more affluent, the nature of capitalism changed. Instead of addressing human need, as the pioneer of capitalism Adam Smith originally intended, capitalism metamorphosed into a culture of narcissism. Corporations became addicted to profit as productionism gave way to consumerism. We have grown into a culture of consumers who shop, not for what we need, but for what we want. In the process, our moral and ethical restraints have given way to greed.
In the vacuum that was left when Americans abandoned their religious heritage—a heritage formed by the Bible’s focus on thrift and moderation—narcissism quickly filled the emptiness. The German sociologist Max Weber feared what he saw happening in Western culture when he wrote: “the pursuit of wealth, stripped of its religious and ethical meaning, tends to become associated with purely mundane passions.” In other words, affluence, without moral and ethical boundaries, leads to an ever increasing lust for more.
Jonathan Hoenig’s book Greed is Good captures much of today’s attitude toward self-indulgence when he writes, “In the game called life, the object is to make yourself happy.” Scripture would strongly disagree. Only by losing life in the service of others can we truly find it. Sadly, our consumeristic culture, void of a spiritual foundation, has become easy prey for modern capitalism’s excessive emphasis on the self. Values like self-sacrifice, civic responsibility, and personal stewardship have largely been lost in our hedonistic pursuit of making ourselves happy. Wesley’s motto “Make all you can, save all you can, give all you can” has been replaced by an indulgent “make all you can and spend all you can on yourself,” a certain recipe for despair, as evidenced by the billions of dollars the pharmaceutical industry makes each year selling anti-depressants.
There are no quick fixes to our cultural narcissism. Politicians have few, if any, answers as many of them are narcissists. In times past, the church would have provided a beacon of moral and ethical guidance, but so many churches today have been co-opted by the political right or left, they have lost credibility with large portions of Americans.
A couple of thoughts. While you and I cannot change our consumeristic culture, we can change ourselves. We can create an alternative economic reality, one that rejects the philosophy that we “need” more stuff. Just because we have the means doesn’t mean we have the right to indulge ourselves. The richest people are the ones who are content with what they have.
Then, too, we can learn to be thoughtful shoppers. Shop for what you need, not for what you want. Too often we buy on impulse, a knee-jerk reaction that gets many of us in trouble. Wants are addictive and can never satisfy and will only result in the craving for more.
Ebenezer Scrooge found happiness in doing for others. We will as well. The words, “it is more blessed to give than to receive” are true not merely because Jesus said them, but they are true because one of life’s most satisfying fulfillments is found in giving (Acts 20:35).
God bless us, everyone!
