There used to be something called frugality. In deference to it, householders saved brown paper and string from parcels that arrived by post. They utilised crusts and repaired broken gadgets as far as they could. Envelopes had a back as well as a front and the back was a useful space to write shopping lists on. Householders had sweated to get the money that kept bread on the table and the wolf from the door and they weren’t going to fritter it away needlessly.
Frugality is no longer a virtue. To be frugal in the 21st century is to be parsimonious, penny-pinching and – horror of horrors – mean. Ours is a throwaway society. It is cheaper to replace than to repair. If everybody practised frugality, civilised society would come to a stop. What would our stockbrokers, accountants and financial directors do but twiddle their thumbs? We have to keep the production lines running, the shops, humming: these are the things that keep society alive rather than stagnant. This is, to put it brutally, what keeps us human.
So where does Christianity come into this? It can be seen as a garnish, a factor without any nutritious value that adds flavour to the dish. Or it can be regarded as a cosmetic, camouflaging the insistent biological demands that motivate us and proving to be part of a feel-good factor that gets us through the drudgery and routine dreariness of our days.
Curiously, Christianity – if we take the standpoint of the New Testament as decisive – seems to be the opposite of frugality. The two stories that best characterise New Testament Christianity are about a profligate son and a kind-hearted Samaritan. Both these stories in Luke’s Gospel are about this point. (Yes, I know they are about other things as well but let’s stick with their concern with money and what we do with it.)
It is true that to be frugal can much like being a skin-flint. It is also true that to help those in need can be patronising. But the Sermon on the Mount suggests that a considerate, self-forgetful, easy-going pathway through life is a good path to follow. This is not all that has to be said of Christianity but if that is lacking, we are mot altogether on the right track.
STRAW BALES
Holy Trinity, Tulse Hill, London is building what promises to be the greenest community hall imaginable. It has produced four short films on the project that are available on the church website. The hall will replace a building that was demolished in 1984 and will be constructed of straw bales, with the community playing a part. When finished, it will have a negative CO2 output.
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