Suffocating in the American Cocoon
When I’m feeling especially peeved about my country, it’s important to call to mind some of the things I love about it – Freedom of press, trial by a jury of one’s peers, and squirrels. However, there are times when the privilege of leaving the borders of America for a period of time serve as a form of detox. I am spiritually drifting into a toxic sleep breathing the fumes of America-centrism, Consumerism, and Insularity.
1. America-centrism. Few countries have become global Empires on the scale of the Mongols, Babylon, Rome, Great Britain, or the Soviet Union. America (and possibly China) have that sort of hegemony today, and those of us inside the borders of Empire suffer the delusion of thinking we are at the center of the universe. In American films, when the world is in peril, who is it who saves the planet? We do, of course. In the movie The Martian, it’s not America saving the world but the whole world pulling together to save one American. America occupies center stage in many films about a global crisis. It’s part of our delusion, and while it’s possible to travel outside American and still remain trapped in the American bubble of Hilton hotels, social media and shopping malls, stepping outside our borders goes a long way toward detoxing from an inflated global ego.
2. Consumerism. It is a worldwide pandemic, and it is not unique to America. But we have a strain of the virus that is especially deadly to spiritual health. Jesus warned his disciples five times more about the dangers of wealth and possessions than about the dangers of sexual sin, and Americans know better than most how to inflame desire for material possessions. Hoarding is an American pathology which has developed as a result of our skill at incubating a consumeristic culture. We love our stuff, and it is destroying my soul. I believe our ad-soaked American lives contribute to the fact that we are one of the most depressed nations on earth. Maybe I just don’t pick up on the consumeristic cues of other countries, but sometimes I just need to get away from an environment that is so good at fueling my addiction to stuff.
3. Insularity. The longer I live in America the more I feel out of touch with the rest of the world. While there are harsh realities within our borders in terms of social inequality and suffering, I have little perspective on the kind of reality experienced in places like Chad, Venezuela or Afghanistan. The number of people suffering in the world is rising, and it is easy for a white guy like me to remain insulated from it all. I am numb to the hardships of those experiencing the terrorism of Boko Haram, or the kind of poverty which forces children to mine cobalt, or to sell their bodies for sex. I am conveniently separated from having a three-dimensional relationship with my global neighbors by a computer screen. I’m lucky to have friends who live closer to these realities and who invite me step into their world. That’s not to say it doesn’t come with the complexity and power dynamics which accompany my presence, but my friends are gracious hosts who trust me and share my belief that we need to be in relationship to one another in order to live whole lives.
When I start to feel myself suffocating inside the massive cocoon of America, I know it is time to claw my way out of Empire and show a bit of solidarity with the amazing people who Jesus calls my neighbors. It’s the best way I know to grow mature in my faith, a little humility in my national identity, and a better appreciation for the divine image in others.