I enjoy talking to teenagers about what they want to do when they graduate. At first many say they are not sure. Maybe they want to attend a school, or work for a company, while others feel the pull to become entrepreneurs. However there is one common theme that eventually emerges in our conversations – teenagers want to do something good. They want to make a difference. They want to change the world for better and leave their mark. They, like many of us, begin their journey with a goal in mind: to find meaning.
I hear similar stories from teachers, repair shop owners, moms, cooks, engineers, and farmers. Each began their vocation with a passion for using their skills to do something good for others. We’ve all met kids who say that they want to be a doctor or veterinarian because they want to help people or animals get better. We often begin our journey with others in mind – a generosity of purpose that drives us towards new and inspiring goals.
The trouble is this, according to Walter Brueggemann: in our consumer culture, “every human endeavour is monetized.” In other words, we turn people into a product. Doctors, teachers, mechanics, restauranteur, and hair stylists become commodities. We judge them based on their productivity and market value, not on the meaning they bring. Since we judge others by this standard, then we put ourselves under the same light. We begin to believe that we are only as valuable as the work we do, the stuff we make, or the next performance evaluation we face. We see ourselves as a commodity and the cycle continues.
There may be another way – a way that involves a return to meaning. Neighbourly relationships, care for our community, loving others, faith, hospitality, and living generously may seem like quaint ideas, but they are so much more. It is out of these rich and meaningful values that goodness emerges. Much of what we long for and deeply aspire to become is reflected in the beautiful stuff of life that money cannot buy. You cannot buy a caring neighbourhood from a home builder, you cannot buy a loving marriage from a jeweller, you cannot buy faith from a church, and all of our dreams will not be met on voting day. Meaning must be nurtured by us and together as a community.
There are several ways we can nurture meaning again in our community. The first is to see the people behind the service being provided to you, to truly value the barista, the mechanic, and the nurse. The second is to view your life not as a series of transactions, but as a growing and connected set of relationships. Having coffee with a political leader, your kid’s teacher, or a neighbour will go much farther than writing a letter demanding that they fix this, teach that, or stop their barking dog. The third way to nurture meaning is to open up our lives to allow the mistakes and imperfections of others. When we do so we become people of grace and grace begins to free us from anger, anxiety, and self-centeredness.
May we be the kind of community that offers grace to our politicians, to our dentists, to our plumbers and our child care workers. May we remind them that they began their work with meaning and that they are worth more than what they do. May we nurture meaning in our own neighbourhoods and in our own homes; remembering that we cannot buy what is most valuable and needed in our city.
