Nativity Catholic Church
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The Fantasy of the Big-Boxers I have a love hate relationship with so-called “Big-Box” retail stores. These cavernous behemoths can consume an entire city block, or in the case of more rural environs, a whole pasture of cattle! While I loathe the fact that a search for a special, one-of-a-kind piece of merchandise is impossible with the Big-Boxers, I am mesmerized by the endless amount of merchandise that can be accumulated under a single roof. One minute you are squeezing tomatoes, and the next minute it’s toilet paper. Down one aisle you can’t decide which athletic shoes you want to choose, and down the next aisle it’s a decision about fabric softeners. Of course, one of the great draws of these places is the enjoyment of one-stop shopping. For the average woman, who loves touching and feeling all kinds of merchandise, this is heaven. And it’s heaven for the average male shopper too (note I say “average” female and male shoppers—there are exceptions), since they normally follow the get-in-and-out-as-quickly-as-possible method of “shopping”, buying only the one thing they bothered to go to the store for in the first place! I often think that they need to install First-Aid stations at strategic locations throughout the local Wal-Marts and Super-Targets to tend the wounded and lame who put in more than a month’s worth of physical activity just navigating the endless aisles in search of bargains. Forget about the gym—just turn people loose in a Super-Target for a couple of hours and watch the pounds melt away (while their baskets are being loaded with high-potency cholesterol munchies). But I wonder how much the brazen claim these Big-Boxers make that “We’ve Got Everything!” subconsciously does a number on us in other areas of our lives. I wonder if we secretly, yet forcefully transfer the expectations that one place, one person, one institution, one relationship, or one job can meet all of our needs—just like the Super-Target or Wal-Mart. Perhaps it may sound silly at first, but somewhere, somehow, it seems we are influenced to act on the assumptions that our husbands and wives, our children and teachers, our priests and coaches, our in-laws and church communities, our parents and schools—all should be able to provide us with “everything” that we need! If you don’t believe it, just stop and ponder for a moment the expectations you and I currently hold against any of these people, places, or relationships. And how do we react whenever we do not receive from them what we believe we need them to make available to us. And on top of it all, it wouldn’t hurt if the “goods” we are looking for from people and relationships could come as smartly packaged, easy to open, and reasonably “priced” as the goods we see so attractively arranged and marketed on the shelves of the Big-K. Perhaps it’s not so overt, but that’s the way mass culture and media work their collective magic on us…subtly, quietly, in quick flashes, unconsciously, without much thought or notice at all. The formula has worked its magic best when we simply sit back and say, “Gee, I never thought about it. Well…that’s just the way it is, isn’t it? No harm done.” Obviously, the “we’ve got everything” template when applied to people, relationships, and communities is a dangerous pattern. Imposing the “Big-Boxer attitude” on spouses, and parents, and clergy, and schools, and churches is a recipe for disaster. And I would also add, any spouse, parent, cleric, principal, or church community who purports to be a provider of “everything” anyone could possibly need, all gathered under one “roof,” is cooking up their own recipe for disappointment and failure. The truth is, whether as persons or communities, we will eventually be forced to confront our limitations, and our inabilities to provide either what we desire to offer others, or what others demand from us. Unlike the latest product that touts itself as “New and Improved” simply by changing its advertising label and packaging (although nothing about the product itself has actually changed), people, and communities, and institutions can’t simply respond to the real needs, hopes, and desires placed before us by simply generating some new packaging or marketing strategy. In authentic human, rather than market-driven, relationships, we eventually come face to face with our wounded condition, the pangs of sinfulness, the missing pieces, which God alone can supply. Perhaps in our personal relationships and in our communities, if we stopped trying to be “Big-Boxers,” we might be able to treat one another with much more compassion, patience, and gentleness. Wouldn’t we be far better off leaving behind the Wal-Mart strategy and begin pursuing the strategy of the One who invites us: “Come to me all you who are weary and find life burdensome… for I am meek and gentle of heart”?
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