More like our Grandmothers

There's a New York Times Magazine article making its way around Facebook right now called the The Femivores Dilemma that I highly recommend you check out. The article itself is but a tiny glimpse of a neat little revival of sorts (minus big tents and people passing out) among young, hip- and oftentimes urban- families.

I have an apron just like that

The jist of the article is to tell us about a growing trend toward home-grown, unprocessed food, even-gasp- chickens. The idea is that it's not only healthier, it's also, somehow, more pure, more community-focused and less, well, consumer-driven. Like the majority of our grandmothers had, this new trend focuses on sustainable "kitchen gardens" that can feed a family, save money and ultimately allow women (and men) the opportunity to again work with their hands and bring life out of dark soil.

There is a feminist piece in the article that I won't go into (though I find it enlightening)...what is more interesting to me is this paragraph:

As I rustled up a quick dinner of whole-wheat quesadillas and frozen organic peas, I found my thoughts drifting back to our conversation, to the questions she raised about the nature of success, satisfaction, sustenance, fulfillment, community. What constitutes “enough”? What is my obligation to others? What do I want for my child? Is my home the engine of materialism or a refuge from it?

At its heart, I believe these are deeply spiritual questions, questions that I wish the American church in particular would take more seriously. These are questions, as we have budgeted and cut and downsized and budgeted again, that M and I are taking a long, hard look at. What is fulfillment? What is enough? What do our lives say are the answers to these questions? While we can't literally have a kitchen garden (but will be planting tomatoes and some herbs on our itsy bitsy back staircase), how do we make decisions that reflect our belief that our worth is not found in the things we possess, the restaurants we eat at or even in the neighborhood we live in? How do we live responsibly, not because it's "cool" right now, but because we believe it's part of our Christian calling? How can we encourage others, others who strive and strive to reach the top of that ladder or make that extra million or whatever it might be, that these worldly pursuits, while they may be golden, are fleeting? Do not read this as a condemnation of enjoying trips or food or homes or what have you- but do see this as a condemnation of the Gospel of More Stuff.

I don't know the answers. Even still, I know these are all questions worth asking.