Consider whether our ‘needs’ are instead wants

‘Mom, can I have another piece of pumpkin pie?”

“Not yet, Paul, not until everyone has had a piece.”

I don’t remember if Mom and I ever had this exact conversation during our extended family Thanksgiving gatherings. But the spirit of the exchange is accurate.

My mother wanted everyone there to get a fair chance at the pie.

A single pie – pumpkin or any other kind – can be cut in only so many pieces. At the Thanksgiving (or daily) dinner table, we try to cut the pie in equal pieces.

But in too many other places, the metaphorical “pie” is cut in direct proportion to the innate fairness of the person cutting the pie.

But if you didn’t get “your share,” someone can always make more pies – right?

Yes, in some cases. Too often, the pie materials just aren’t available, or the pie maker is too tired or not available.

Then there is always the parental question looming: “Do you need another piece of pie, or do you just want it?”

What do we need? What do we want?

The “holiday season” is upon us. In other words, we have formally entered the “gluttony zone,” the time when our society indulges itself in all kinds of ways.

Then we justify our buying frenzy with some peculiar variation on the “giving” theme.

Ironically, “holiday” is a contraction of the phrase “holy day.” In traditional religious terms, “holy” is a word that means “different.”

A holiday season is supposed to be different from other seasons. A holiday should be different from other days.

But what’s different about this holiday season? Too little.

Being obsessed with things we want over things we need really knows no season. It’s a year-round disorder in our country.

I know I’ve slipped into my seasonal curmudgeon costume when I say things like this. But I keep looking for some semblance of healthy balance in the holiday season.

I yearn for a balance that is motivated by a depth of giving to others that isn’t dictated by our checkbook or credit card balance.

I’m in for a very long wait. In the meantime, I’ll keep calling our collective attention to the contagious disease of rampant accumulation.

I’m reminded of a classic preacher story: A young preacher came to his first parish. On his first Sunday, he preached about how people should love each other.

His second sermon was exactly the same, word for word. His third and fourth sermons were the same also.

By that time, a member of the congregation got up enough courage to ask the young man why he had preached the very same sermon on loving others four weeks in a row. As respectfully as he could, the preacher simply said: “I’ll move on to something else when everyone begins to practice what I’ve been preaching.”

I know I’m not the only person deeply concerned about how out of balance our society is. We allow our wants to far exceed our needs.

Next to my computer is a mailer ad for a home espresso machine. The ad tells me this machine is “Simply Irresistible” (at $50). For some people, that is likely true.

Many things and experiences entice us daily that are “simply irresistible.” Our threshold for irresistible consumption is disturbingly low.

Maybe the young preacher who preached that one sermon on love four times in a row should be invited to each church, temple, mosque and worship community in our country. I wonder what biblical story he might base his message on.

Perhaps it would be Matt. 25:31-46. This parable is often called The Great Judgment.

Here is what may be Jesus’ “ultimate” question to each of his disciples-in-the-making: “When did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or in prison?”

His answer should make you uncomfortable. It does me.

I don’t believe Christians have a corner on this question. All persons need to hear the question, for it is indeed a question that separates the sheep from the goats, the haves from the have-nots, the “wanters from the needers.”

It also reminds us that so many of us have much more than we need, yet we never have all that we want. At the same time, what so many people want is simply to have what they need.

We find basic illustrations of this truth whenever we open our eyes or check our hearts. Where is that monotonous young preacher when we need him – reminding us, goading us, preparing us to be transformed?

There is redemptive redundancy in Jesus’ basic message that God only wants us to seek what we need, rather than crave what we want. What we need is to share the pie fairly with others.

We also need to challenge those who make the pies – or control access to the ingredients – to remember that also.