Even in times of economic downturn in the U.S., the yawning wealth gap ensures that the “ultrarich” keep spending-though across town, their neighbors continue to struggle.

An article published a few months ago in The New York Times, for example, profiles “ultrarich” New Yorkers who boast that the recession has done nothing to slow down their profligate spending. Speaking of a particularly extravagant vacation involving a private jet, massages, custom-rolled cigars, and guided rides in racing boats and fighter jets, one individual remarked: “It was just all out – it was insane. I’m not afraid to spend money like that.”

That said, let’s pause and turn to another article, published in the same paper. It profiles a relatively young couple, the Harrises, with two children who, after striking it rich with the dot-com boom, found themselves spending with increasing frequency, amassing a huge amount of “stuff”: toys, gadgets, clothes, cars.

Yet, instead of feeling secure, fulfilled, as if they had “made it,” all they felt was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of “stuff” they had accumulated.

So, they did the extreme. They rid themselves of nearly every material possession-including their wedding bands-and moved to a cabin in Vermont, where one partner would be working from home.

A friend of mine maintained that their example was aberrant, atypical of the norm. But I argued that it’s indicative of an increasingly common trend among affluent Americans: that of the move away from a wealth-at-any-cost, workaholic, materialistic mentality, and toward a career and life path that is more meaningful, holistic, and humane.

Take the Teach for America program, for instance, in which recent university graduates-after undergoing a rigorous application process-commit to spending two years teaching at poorly-performing public schools. A recent article reveals that many of its participants are high-achieving graduates of elite universities, who have chosen not, unlike many of their peers, to cash in their degrees for lucrative jobs in investment banking, for example.

Juxtapose these two diverging trends, and it looks like we’ve got a serious case of cognitive dissonance going on in the U.S.

What’s going on here? Why the extremes?

Your guess is as good as mine. The time-worn adage, “Money doesn’t buy happiness,” has persisted for years, yet we haven’t seemed to learn from past examples.

But I read a quotation the other day from a letter written on behalf of Shoghi Effendi, the Guardian of the Bahá’í Faith. Though it was written over seventy years ago, the words hold chilling relevance what the Harrises had felt, what had caused them to suddenly and dramatically reject their materialistic lifestyles:

The materialistic civilization of our age has so much absorbed the energy and interest of mankind that people in general do no longer feel the necessity of raising themselves above the forces and conditions of their daily material existence.

(Shoghi Effendi, Directives from the Guardian, p. 86)

Bahá’u'lláh, the Prophet-Founder of the Bahá’í Faith, speaks of the lofty nature of humankind; that we’re capable of reflecting those noble qualities of God. But, we’re also guilty of getting caught up with the crass materialism that runs rampant in society. He warns against this:

Ye are even as the bird which soareth, with the full force of its mighty wings and with complete and joyous confidence, through the immensity of the heavens, until, impelled to satisfy its hunger, it turneth longingly to the water and clay of the earth below it, and, having been entrapped in the mesh of its desire, findeth itself impotent to resume its flight to the realms whence it came. Powerless to shake off the burden weighing on its sullied wings, that bird, hitherto an inmate of the heavens, is now forced to seek a dwelling-place upon the dust. Wherefore, O My servants, defile not your wings with the clay of waywardness and vain desires, and suffer them not to be stained with the dust of envy and hate, that ye may not be hindered from soaring in the heavens of My divine knowledge.

(Baha’u'llah, Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u'llah, p. 325)

Both passages refer to the conscious effort required to resist succumbing to overt materialism. I don’t think that forgoing all of one’s possessions and retreating to the woods is going to provide any lasting solution for humanity-for the Harrises, I can only infer that it made them feel less burdened personally.

What I can glean from studying the writings of the Bahá’í Faith, however, is that a much larger awakening must occur as to the limitations of rampant materialism as a quick-fix to happiness, alongside an outcry against the excessive wealth gap that continues to persist. We’re beginning to see the faint glimmerings of that today, but as it grows, I can only imagine that these efforts will flourish. And as humanity grows impatient with economic injustice and crass materialism, then just maybe, those efforts will bring about a more just and humane global society.