Keith Drury Draft 1 9/28/04
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Keith Drury Draft 2 9/28/04
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Keith Drury Draft 3 9/28/04
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Simplicity
Simplicity
Simplicity is intentionally
paring our lives down toward the essentials in order to free ourselves from the
“tyranny of things.” Few other
disciplines go against our culture so much but when taken up provide greater
freedom. The simple life is easier and
less complicated to live which enables us to focus on more important
things. We abandon our preoccupation
with the latest gadgets, styles and must-have symbols of success in order to
focus on more important and lasting things.
In a culture that believes piling up treasure on earth brings happiness
the discipline of simplicity is our statement that we believe true happiness is
more likely found in the abundance of our possessions but in the fewness of our
wants. When we practice this discipline
we will find the freedom and joy of the uncomplicated life and a “single eye”
will emerge focusing on God and eternal things.
The teaching and lifestyle of
Jesus at this point was radical—perhaps too radical to even imagine
emulating. What were His
possessions? Where was His home? What forms of transportation did he use?
Gandhi is often honored for his simple life enabling him to carry everything he
owned in a simple linen bag. But Jesus
did not even have a bag. His estate
included a simple yet quality seamless garment—and a worldwide religion. His
disciples took on the discipline of simplicity too and the early church spread
as Christ’s followers gave up their possessions and spread the gospel. Churches sprung up who became known for
sharing possessions and caring for widows and orphans and people were attracted
to these communities The Christians in Jerusalem who “did not treat their
possessions as their own” typified the early church for several hundred years.
The “desert fathers” denied themselves all the comforts of life in order to
focus on God. Later, for more than a thousand
years monasteries became places where individuals abandoned the worries of
personal possessions and gave themselves to worship, study and service. The lineage of simplicity has a long history
in the church that is traced right back to Jesus Christ. When we take up this discipline we join a
long line of fellow Christians through history.
In our modern world, however,
the discipline of abstinence makes us wonder, “Shouldn’t the Christian life be
a celebration and happiness not a stern life of denial and long faces? Of course we the Christian life is one of
joy, but the error is in believing that material possessions bring this
joy. We are told by our culture that we
can achieve happiness by collecting the possessions of the “good life.” But it
turns to dust and rust. We eventually discover that we are no happier than we
were when we had nothing. So among our pile of possessions we sit with dimness
of soul. Happiness and freedom is not
found in piling up possessions but in a simple life of trust. The more we have the greater we will rely on
what we have. And the less we will rely
on God The idol of materialism sets
itself up in the temple of our heart and says
“What good is the spiritual world—you can’t eat it, wear it, or live in
it?” To tear down this idol defying God
we adopt habits of simplicity affirming eternal and spiritual values. Like adding a tiny drop of poison to our
coffee each day, materialism slowly poisons our souls. The dimness of soul eventually becomes
“normal.” We no longer even know what
it is like to sense the deeper and more important things of life. But when
intentionally reject the falsehoods of the material life and practice
simplicity—even a little of it—we are freed from the tyranny of the temporal and
material and can get reacquainted with the spiritual and eternal.
Our culture teaches us that the material matters most. Advertising is carefully designed to give us wants disguised as needs. So we collect possessions that are supposed to satisfy yet we experience a strange disappointment once we’ve got them. They do not measure up to what they promised. We are told we need more or better or the improved thing to really make us happy. So we get up on a speeding treadmill of materialism constantly gathering and collecting possessions seeking the satisfaction the next purchase will bring. It is like drinking seawater—the more we have the thirstier we get. Finally we realize a strange thing—our possessions have come to posses us. The garage door opener breaks and commands us to arrange for its repair. The lawn mower does not start this spring and, after scores of attempts and much sweating, we are ordered get it fixed. The automobile that promised to make us feel so good insists we take it regularly for oil changes. There has been a mutiny. We become possessions of our possessions, slaves of our slaves. The things we gathered to serve is have overthrown our rule and made us servants—taken over our lives and made us prisoners. Habits of simplicity help us regain control from these rebel servants.
When we find ourselves in this bondage (usually too late in life) it is hard to escape. We have laid down piling up patterns for decades. Such habits are hard to beak. When struggling with this issue E. B. White observed that his house was like a tank that only allowed possessions to enter—there seemed to be a check valve that prevented the outflow of possessions. So we pile up until we die or move to a nursing home and our children toss out our junk wagging their heads saying, “Now why did they save that?” Adopting habits of simplicity keeps the books current—it gets rid of our stuff as new stuff comes in, or better yet discards possessions without replacing them. . When we adopt habits of simplicity we break loose from this bondage and experience the joys of traveling light. Sometimes we simply have to walk away form our bigger barns to find release.
Of course all of us can’t take
a vow of poverty. We shouldn’t. The evil is not in things themselves, but in
our excessive absorption with them.
Taking up habits of simplicity breaks the bondage of the material—even
adopting just a few habits can do so. The classic approach to this discipline
offers three related disciplines. First there is frugality, the careful
use of money for necessities in order to get the greatest value. The frugal person is a careful spender who
cautiously spends only for important things, and then only after carefully
comparing to get the “biggest bang for the buck.” All of us can take on the trait of frugality—though one can even
be a materialist and do it since even misers are frugal. On the far extreme is poverty. Monks usually took three vows: poverty,
chastity, and obedience—thus addressing three great temptations of life—money,
sex and power. Their discipline of
poverty was to abstain from personal ownership of anything at all—even a
writing tablet was owned collectively.
Few of us can be so radical unless we live in some sort of commune or
Christian community. And even if we did
we may not be free of materialism. Many
religious orders eventually faced a dimness of soul too because they merely
replaced personal materialism with collective materialism—some monasteries
became fabulously wealthy over time.
Who cares if I own nothing if my community owns all kinds of lavish
possessions and lets me use them? While
we ought to practice frugality, and some may take a voew of poverty all of
could practice simplicity—the intentional paring life down toward the
essentials in order to free ourselves from the tyranny of things. In the process we clear the clutter of our
lives away and can find God and trust him better.
Well, we can’t all become
monks. We have family to consider, and our retirement and other
obligations. So, where can we find the
sensible middle ground of simplicity?
How much is too much? How far
should we go in unpiling our treasure on earth? Certainly this discipline of all the disciplines must be tailored
personally. Moderate simplicity to a
person in Rangoon might look like poverty to a Christian in Chicago. Or living a simple life in North Carolina
might appear to be wanton excess to a Christian in Bangladesh. But even among
our friends attending our local church there will be varying tolerations for
simplicity. “Oh, I could never do
without that” labels the thing of which we speak as a necessity. But my necessity may be my neighbor’s
luxury. So we will have to apply this
discipline personally and beware of judging how others ought to live. Most of us feel the grip of materialism and
sense our own addiction to nice things.
Taking even small steps to reverse materialism’s clutch can bring
greater freedom. Certainly nobody can
set standards for others, but that does not mean we are free to set no
standards at all for ourselves.
Simplicity may be relative, but it is not optional—at least for a
religion whose founder taught such radical notions about possessions. In modern life we may not be able to follow
all of Christ’s teaching on materialism, but shouldn’t we try to follow some?
When we adopt disciplines of
simplicity w will not toss out all our clothes keeping only one change of
clothes. That may have worked in Jesus
time but few of us seriously think that is how He might dress in our
world. For most of us simplicity of dress
has to do with moderation more than essentials. Of course only one change of clothing would
be “the essentials” for dress. But few
of us could survive in modern life on only the bare essentials—our world
doesn’t work that way. This is why we defined the discipline as aiming toward
the essentials. For most of us this
discipline starts a journey against materialism that we never complete. Well, we don’t complete it until death, for
none of us will take anything material from this world. Death is the final downsizing for the
Christian. All the downsizing we do
before then is preparation. So we need
some things—probably more than Jesus had. But how many changes of clothing does
we need? How many internal combustion
engines do we own? Two? Four?
Five? Do we need so many? The discipline of simplicity leads us to
determine how much we need and to move toward only what we need and nothing
more. Taking on the discipline of simplicity in our modern world is more about
moderation than total abstinence. That
is in simplicity we abstain from material excessiveness—from collecting things
as if they provided happiness and meaning.
Only God can give us the happiness and meaning we crave
Once we take up the
discipline of simplicity it often bleeds over into other areas of life. For instance we may start seeing the value
simpler foods which is often the route to a more healthy diet. Simplicity can
spread to our entertainment and hobbies too.
We might discover joy in the simplest things rather than those expensive
and esoteric diversions we used to do because they promised such an “awesome
experience.” We may even take up the
habit of simplicity of thinking, moving beyond self-promoting impressive
doubletalk to adopting a simple approach to thinking and talking like Jesus
used. A simple life will soon lead us to
examine our schedule differently—and we will realize we cram too many things
into too little time. Neither the abundance of appointments nor the profusion
of possessions will make us happy. Soon
simplicity will spread to our schedule and we will find greater peace and
purpose in life. All of the disciplines
spread into other areas, but few spread so widely as simple simplicity.
We must remember though that
possessions themselves are not wrong and we do not take up the discipline of
simplicity as if holiness springs from having less. The problem: it is hard to serve two masters—God and
possessions. Jesus said it wasn’t even
possible at all. He taught us our
hearts will follow our treasure. It is
hard for our heart to care about the eternal and spiritual when it is
preoccupied with temporal and material.
This is why we start disciplines of simplicity—to break free from mammon
and refocus our eye on God. And in
ridding ourselves of the things we thought would make us happiness we find
truer and deeper happiness in God.
How to start practicing this discipline.
1. Say no. Pick one purchase every day and say no, even
something as small as a soft drink. Not
because buying things is wrong, but to break the bondage of the notion that a
purchase will make you happier.
2. Inventory your house. Simply walk through your house with boxes or a wheelbarrow and take
out things you have not used in a year, or two years, or whatever is your time
limit. If you have not worn a sweater
in a year should you really keep it? If
that tool has not been used for several years, why hoard it? Gather a pile of unused possessions
somewhere—but don’t put it in your attic, get rid of it some way.
3. Plan a garage
sale. Perhaps a garage sale is a way to toss out
your extra baggage—having one, not visiting one to collect more stuff! Some Christians have one every year and give
the income to missions.
4. Sort boxes
from your last move. Do you still have unpacked
boxes from your last move—or even previous moves? If so, schedule an hour this week (and every week until you are
finished) to sort, toss or give away those things your children would have to
sort anyway when you go to a nursing home.
If now is not a good time to start this when will be a better time—do
you really think you’ll do it better when retired or just before you enter a
nursing home?
5. Plan a
backpacking trek. Most of us are unable to practice “severe simplicity” like John the
Baptist, Jesus and the early Church fathers but we can experience a week or
longer very similarly when we take a backpacking trek. If you are physically able consider trying a
week or more carrying only the necessities on your back—and watch how what you
thought were “necessities” turn into “luxuries” once you are carrying the load
on your back. Let this bne a lesson for
life. Few experiences today offer as
much similarity with the first century approach to simplicity as does
backpacking.
6. Begin
downsizing.
If you agree that an overabundance of possessions is actually a burden then you
might take this discipline even more seriously—by starting to downsize your
lifestyle in a serious way. Give away
the extra furniture cluttering your house to a young couple. Or give it to the
Salvation Army. Find a young person who
has no tools and give them your extra set of socket wrenches, or maybe even
your only set if you’ve not been using it.
Get rid of all that stuff you have in your self-storage. Why pay rent to store things you will
eventually toss out anyway? Check the attic, garage and basement asking, “Why
save this?” Give yourself permission to buy things again if you find out later
that “just when I tossed it out I needed it.”
Maybe even consider moving to a smaller house that makes you downsize
automatically. Again, do not take up
this discipline because having little will make you holy—but because having
less will free you to be happier. And closer to God
Now, what about you? What are your
specific plans to practice this discipline this week?
Reduce the complexity of
life by eliminating the needless wants of life, and the labors of life reduce
themselves. –Edwin Way Teale
To find the universal
elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by
a morning walk or an evening saunter ... to be thrilled by the stars at night;
to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring-these are some of the
rewards of the simple life –John Burroughs
The ability to simplify
means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak.
--Hans Hofmann
Stop trying to impress
people with your clothes and impress them with your lif.e--Richard Foster
Simplicity is making the journey of this life with
just baggage enough. –Charles Dudley Warner
Purity and simplicity are
the two wings with which man soars above the earth and all temporary nature. –Thomas a Kempis
The Christian Discipline of
Simplicity is an inward reality that results in an outward lifestyle.
--Richard Foster
We are happy in proportion
to the things we can do without. –Henry David Thoreau
To be simple is to fix one's
eye solely on the simple truth of God at a time when all concepts are being
confused, distorted, and turned upside down. –Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Most of the luxuries, and
many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but
positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind. –Henry David Thoreau
Do not store up for
yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves
break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth
and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where
your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19-21)
No one can serve two
masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted
to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money… But seek
first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to
you as well.
(Matthew 6: 24, 33) Jesus answered,
"If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the
poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.
(Matthew 19:21)
John's clothes were made of
camel's hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts
and wild honey
(Matthew 3:4)
Beauty of style and harmony and grace and good rhythm
depend on simplicity. Plato
There is no greatness where there is not simplicity,
goodness, and truth –Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoy
Helps for teaching and
leading your class or small group through this book are located at the back of
this book.
By Keith Drury [email protected]
© 2004 Keith Drury All Rights Reserved. This is a rough draft of a book manuscript already under contract. It is posted to provide for broad review and input form the church before going to the publisher. You are free to print copies of this draft for review but the ownership of this manuscript is by license in the hand of the Publisher. For permission to duplicate copies you would need to call the Wesleyan Publishing House at 1-800-493-7539