The Spirit of Consumerism in the World and in the Church

Priest Tarasy Borozenets | April 24, 2026

 

 

Before speaking about the sinfulness of consumerism, it is important to understand: consumption in itself is not evil. Consumption is a natural element of our human life. Man is a dependent and needy being, and therefore it is natural for him to take and consume, especially in childhood. But as he grows older, man increasingly begins to give to others—to create, to help, to care. A mature person is a responsible, creative person, loving God and his neighbors, guided by the apostolic commandment: “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).

Evil lies not in consumption itself, but in its immoderation and perversion, in its absolutization. The more perfected a person is, the higher his psychological and spiritual aspirations are, the less egoistic consumption there is in him and the more constructive activity and creativity. The absolutization of consumption leads to degradation and infantilization, whereas the primacy of self-giving fosters personal growth, the strength of the family, and the vigor of society.

Consumerism in the Gospel

When the Lord went forth to preach, performed His miracles, and, most importantly, the miracles of the conversion and healing of human souls, leading them to repentance, humility, and love, He thereby satisfied all the pressing needs of people—both spiritual and bodily. His mercies were so full and manifest that hope arose among the people: now there is no need to do anything; simply be with Christ, and He will do everything and grant prosperity to all.

Therefore the people surrounding Him listened, but did not hear His warnings that He, and they after Him, would have to suffer, be killed, and rise again. Their consumerist consciousness simply could not contain this. Then, as today, people do not want this from God—not effort, responsibility, or ascetic struggle. They want “to have everything, and to have nothing happen to them for it.” They want to make use of things, to consume, and not to suffer and give of themselves. Let us recall the words of the Lord: “Truly, truly, I say to you: you seek Me, not because you saw the signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled” (John 6:26). Here is the root of the problem: we seek not Christ, but services; not the Savior, but a free benefactor.

Two Principles of the Consumerist Consciousness

The consumerist attitude persists as long as there remains in a person even some measure of pride and egoism. Behind a consumerist attitude toward God, one’s neighbor, and the world there always stands egocentrism—the placing of oneself at the center of the universe, where even God is turned into a means of serving my Ego.

In the consumerist consciousness, man is a consumer, a client who is always right; God is a provider of services, obliged to do things as I want; the Church is a firm that provides these services; faith, the Mysteries, and prayers are instruments. Here two principles are at work: the first is “I want,” and the second is “Everyone owes me.”

Consumer Society as a Breeding Ground

Today’s capitalist society is rightly called a consumer society. The economy, art, education, upbringing, and culture are arranged so that people are constantly consuming something: goods and services, information, impressions—and so that they see in this the meaning of their life. Here everyone lives exclusively for himself, for the satisfaction of his own needs. Man becomes a buyer, and the world a vast supermarket. The Apostle John the Theologian warned:

“For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father, but is of this world” (1 John 2:16).

Consumer society is the triumph of this “pride of life,” realized through the “lust of the flesh” and the “lust of the eyes.” The chief sin here is not murder or theft, but insufficient consumption.

The Spirit of Consumerism in the Church

It may seem that such consumerism concerns only society outside the Church, this world. Alas, it has also penetrated and metastasized in the consciousness and life of believers. We come to the Church from the consumerist world and do not automatically leave its cultural and value cocoon, even by confessing and receiving Communion. Often we bring into the church the same spirit of consumption, only redirecting it from things to holy things. People begin to treat God, faith, and the Church as services. They seek a faith “suited to themselves,” according to their own tastes, so that it will be convenient and comfortable. They choose a church as they would a store: where the “service” is more pleasant, the priest kinder, the choir more beautiful, the candles cheaper, the sermons shorter. Even the saints are chosen according to the principle of “who gives me what”: one for a headache, another for passing an exam. This is no longer faith, but religious consumption. The Lord says: “You cannot serve God and mammon” (Matt. 6:24). But modern man is sincerely convinced that one can: let God be on the list of service providers alongside the bank, the hairdresser, and the internet provider.

Most often people come to the Church not because life is going well, but out of need. They are not seeking dogmas, but a solution: how to save a dying husband, pull a son out of the captivity of drugs, preserve a family, or at least obtain a roof over their head. A person comes in order to receive: health, safety, well-being, the resolution of an unbearable problem. And the Lord does not slam the door shut before such a “petitioner.” He receives him, knowing the true price of this impulse—fear, pain, or calculation.

Why does God receive consumers? Because this is how the path of churching begins. As the holy fathers write, the soul passes through three stages: that of the slave, the hireling, and the son.

The stage of the slave: a person does not yet love God, but fears hell. He keeps the commandments because he has been terrified by the description of fiery Gehenna. This is faith expressing a religious instinct of self-preservation.

The stage of the hireling: a person already hopes for a reward. He fasts in order to obtain the Kingdom of Heaven, and prays for God’s gifts both in this life and in the life to come. This is a transaction: “I give You a candle; You give me a successful operation.”

The stage of the son: perfection, when a person serves God and his neighbor simply out of love, having forgotten about punishment and recompense.

In the first two stages, the Christian remains a consumer. He struggles ascetically not for Christ’s sake, but in order to avoid pain (the slave) or to receive dividends (the hireling). Of such an attitude people say: “Not for Jesus’ sake, but for a piece of bread.”

But here is the paradox of holiness: the Lord accepts even such distorted service. As a mother nurses an infant who is not yet capable of loving her, but is capable only of tasting milk (consuming), so also God nourishes the soul with grace through fear and the hope of reward. Gradually, by His Providence, He raises a person from the egoistic “give me” to the filial “I thank Thee.” The problem of contemporary church life is that many become complacent and remain stuck in the first two stages, unwilling to pass on to the third—to love wholly and truly.

The Choice: Consumption or Service

Today every Christian is faced with a clear choice: egoistic consumption or sacrificial service. Hardened consumers regard even one another as commodities. They relate to other people exclusively as means for satisfying their own needs. Another person has no intrinsic value; he is valuable only insofar as he can be useful, pleasant, or profitable. In this way people unwittingly reduce themselves to the level of commodities that have a monetary price. “How much are you worth?” is the chief question of the consumerist world. A person believes that his dignity is measured by salary, brands, and status. In this world everything is sold and bought: the body, talents, time, conscience, love, friendship, even a place in Paradise, as it seems to those who order forty-day commemorations without repentance. But Christ reminds us: “For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Matt. 16:26). The soul has no price, for it is the image of God. He who looks upon his neighbor as a commodity first of all devalues himself, for according to the word of the Lord: “With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again” (Matt. 7:2).

Two Types of Consumerism

The most terrible thing is that this sore also afflicts fully churched Christians. In the depths of our soul, we often relate to Christ as a source of well-being. As long as everything is going well—health, prosperity, peace in the family—we willingly go to church, pray, and receive Communion. But as soon as misfortune occurs, a person falls into despondency, abandons prayer, stops going to church, and murmurs: “Why? I served Thee so much!” This is pure consumerism: I give God my religiosity, and He is obliged to give me a comfortable life. The Lord warned:

“But that which fell upon the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy; but these have no root, who for a while believe, and in time of temptation fall away” (Luke 8:13).

Churching without the root of humility and readiness to bear the cross inevitably turns into a transaction.

Paradoxically, worldly people manifest consumerism in precisely the opposite way. As long as everything is going well for them—health, money, success—they do not even want to think about church, regarding faith as the lot of the weak. But as soon as misfortune comes—illness, collapse, the death of loved ones—they “remember” God and run to church to light a candle, order a forty-day commemoration, confess, and receive Communion, treating God as a crisis manager. Folk wisdom has accurately observed: “Until the thunder strikes, the peasant will not cross himself.”

In both the first and the second case, there is one and the same consumerist consciousness: God is needed not as Father and Lord, but as a fire brigade or service personnel. The only difference is that the “churched” person has become accustomed to “service” in good times, while the unchurched person seeks it only in bad times. But both do not want one thing: to be with God always—in joy and in sorrow, in health and in sickness, in abundance and in poverty, serving Him not for something, but out of humble, grateful love for His own sake.

A False Picture of the World and Right Dispositions

Consumerism today poisons and perverts not only church life, but all spheres of society: education, upbringing, science, and art—leading them to vulgarization and degradation. People imagine the world as a supermarket of goods and services. But this is an entirely false picture.

At the foundation of life we should place dispositions opposite to pride and consumerism: “I owe others,” “No one owes me anything,” “One must give more and take less,” “Do not demand and do not take things for granted, but ask and give thanks for everything as for an undeserved gift.” This is what the Liturgy teaches us as a common work, and the Eucharist as thanksgiving. The Lord Himself is the highest example: He “came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give His life as a ransom for many” (Matt. 20:28).

From Passivity to Synergy and the Cross

Consumerism presupposes passivity, work directed toward receiving rather than giving. The opposite disposition—constructive activity—calls for active cooperation with God, for synergy with His grace. As Scripture says: “Faith without works is dead” (James 2:20). Folk wisdom echoes this: “Water does not flow under a lying stone.” Without our will and active participation, God cannot save us. The path of the Christian is hard labor. Its heaviness lies in the efforts to overcome the spirit of pride and consumerism, in uprooting them from the soul and heart.

After conversion, He at first pours out His mercy superabundantly, plainly showing His care and openly demonstrating His presence. It may seem to the newly converted person that it will always be this way. But then the Lord “withdraws” and “releases” the person onto a free path, urging him toward independent cooperation and the bearing of his own cross. He does this so that the person will not become a spiritual consumer, will not become rooted in laziness and pride, but will become a co-worker and a cross-bearer, a builder of his own salvation and of the salvation of his neighbors. It is said: “The Kingdom of Heaven is taken by force, and those who use force seize it” (Matt. 11:12). Christ Himself calls: “If anyone wishes to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me” (Mark 8:34). True Christian life consists in self-denying service to God and one’s neighbors, and not in demanding that one be served.

 

Russian source: https://pravoslavie.ru/177118.html

Greek translation: https://entoytwnika1.blogspot.com/2026/05/blog-post_23.html