We live in the middle of a
branded universe, in which everything is designed to make us devote ourselves
to things. And advertising doesn’t speak to the rational part of us: it goes
for the heart. It produces desires and longings in us. It sings to us:
advertising jingles are lullabies of lucre, helping us to fall in love with the
promise that owning material goods will secure us and complete us. To stroll
through Bondi Junction Westfield is to stroll through a soaring cathedral of
consumer goods, bathed in a transcendent holy white light, not quite sure where
you are going, other than that you feel the burning urge to purchase something.
It is a powerful cult, this cult of mammon, and we are in its church 24/7 –
because its siren songs are beamed into our homes and burned onto our brains.
We gather in church,
for one precious hour on Sunday, to escape from the god of material wealth
and possessions. Here we find a place where that God is banned. His domain is
outside the door. We are here to retrain our hearts: to remind us of that the
God that died for us is the true God. To hear the words of life; to sing
different songs, and to awaken in ourselves different heart-longings. Which is
why the disciples of Jesus in the 21st century, if they are to serve
the true master, need more than ever to dedicate this part of their lives and
more to him. How else can your heart survive in such a world? How else can you
be protected from the deep longings for material things that this city so
openly worships?
