June 26, 2011
Simplicity
Matthew 6: 24-33
We are concluding our worship series on Anabaptist history and theology with two services focused on simplicity. The virtue, the practice, of simplicity is a significant one for many Mennonites. The concern for simplicity among Mennonites was one of the factors that drew me into the Mennonite church. I read Living More with Less and cooked out of the More with Less Cookbook long before I ever joined a Mennonite church.
On one hand, I would like to claim concern for simplicity as an Anabaptist distinctive, but on the other hand I have to admit that simplicity has become hip. It’s not just for Mennonites anymore. Simplicity has become big business. There are books and blogs and magazines that give advice for living more simply.
Real Simple magazine, for example, has all kinds of tips for how to simplify your life–tips on home decor and hosting parties and makeup and fashion. Among the “Six Items to Simplify your Life” they list a set of ladybug tablecloth weights.
That’s what happens when things become hip. They become a little less radical. And a little more complicated.
I am glad the idea of simplicity is somewhat popular right now–even in it’s secularized, watered-down form. I think the popularity of simplicity means a little less waste in the landfills, a bit healthier food on the table, a little more time devoted to relationships, a little less focus on showing off our wealth.
I do not want to condemn pop-culture forms of simplicity. They are better than the pop-culture norm of conspicuous consumption.
I do want to say that as followers of Jesus, our form of simplicity will look different from what is presented in Real Simple magazine.
Pop-simplicity is marketed as a beneficial life-management strategy. Christ-centered simplicity is embraced as a deep spiritual practice.
So this morning I won’t be focusing on practical tips for a more simple life. We have some books in our library you can check out for that: Living More with Less, the Trek books, probably others. The public library has books on how to simplify your space, simplify your time, simplify your life. Maybe summer is a good time for you to carry out one practical step to make your life more simple. Go for it!
This morning, I will be looking at simplicity as a spiritual practice. In Richard Foster’s classic book, Celebration of Discipline (also available in the church library?), he places the discipline of simplicity in the category of “outward disciplines.” I know why he put it in that category; there are many outward expressions of the practice of simplicity.
Still, I would say that simplicity, like all spiritual practices, has a significant, a vital, inward component. Simplicity begins in our hearts, in our minds, in our spirits. In the Beatitudes, Jesus says, “blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” And Kierkegaard says that “purity of heart is to will one thing.”
That is where simplicity begins; with purity of heart. With a spirit that wills one thing.
The question, of course, is, What is your one thing?
Later on in the Sermon on the Mount, after the Beatitudes, Jesus talks about where our focus should be: “You cannot serve both God and money. . . . Seek first God’s Kingdom; God’s righteousness.”
Purity of heart, spiritual simplicity, is not about what we have or don’t have. It’s about who or what we serve, who or what we seek. Because what we seek and serve affects our hearts; it shapes our deepest identities.
Because our relationship with stuff affects our spirits deeply, Jesus has quite a bit to say about money. There are three passages in the Gospel of Luke where Jesus talks to or about a wealthy person. Jesus talks about a rich man who built bigger and bigger barns to store all of his grain; but it didn’t do him any good because the man died and had to leave all his barns behind. Jesus talks about a rich man who ignores the beggar, Lazarus, who sits at his gate in desperate need of food and care; when he dies he experiences torment and Lazarus is not allowed to help him. And Jesus tells the rich ruler that in order to inherit eternal life, the ruler must sell everything he has and give the money to the poor; but he can’t do it.
What strikes me about all of these stories is that none of the rich men have names. They are just rich men–their wealth is their identity. I’m not sure about the barn-builder or the guy who ignores Lazarus, but it is clear that the rich ruler thinks he loves God, he wants to serve God–but he also wants to serve money. And Jesus’ words ring true: he does not serve both God and money because he cannot.
We can see in the stories of these three rich men the dangers of serving money. We see the sorrow and pain that can come when our allegiances are not simple, when we are not clear about the one thing we seek and serve. It’s easy to find these examples in our contemporary society as well. In their quest for wealth, many people promote injustice, deprive the poor, pollute the environment, and ruin their own relationships in the process.
I took a few classes with Ron Sider, a Mennonite scholar and activist, many years ago. He made a point to tell his students that making and having money is not a sin. Some people, he said, are gifted by God to be able to make a lot of money. And if those people seek first God’s kingdom, they can do a lot of good for a lot of people. The problem is not having money. The problem is loving money. The problem is having an impure heart–trying to serve two (or three or four) masters instead of just one.
Purity of heart. A single focus. Spiritual simplicity. Just as the New Testament gives us examples of people who fail to meet this standard, it also tells us of the faithful who did seek first God’s Kingdom. We read of Jesus’ disciples who dropped everything, left their jobs and their families and their houses, and just followed Jesus around the countryside. We read of the earliest Christians who sold their possessions and gave the money to the church. Of Lydia, a wealthy woman, who gave generously of her wealth and energy to support the young Christian community.
In an age when multi-tasking is such a highly prized ability, it’s difficult to conceive of what a focused life might look like today. How true spiritual simplicity might work–behind and underneath all of the strategies we have developed for making our lives look more simple.
An obvious example would be monks and nuns who dedicate their lives to the church. But for those of us without the gift of celibacy, not to mention those of us who are not Catholic, joining a formal religious order is not an option.
There is a movement called “new monasticism” that includes a variety of Christians–protestant and Catholic, single and married, lay and ordained. Those who are involved with new monasticism live in different types of Christian communities with varying levels of wealth-sharing, but they are all trying to seek first God’s kingdom.
There are also opportunities for non-ordained, non-Catholics, to become oblates with a religious order–learning from and worshiping with a group of monks or nuns without formally joining or living with the order.
And there are Mennonite-affiliated groups like Mennonite Voluntary Service, SOOP (Service Opportunities for Older People), and Christian Peacemaker Teams. Organizations that help Christians orient their lives around Kingdom values of service and peacemaking.
It is exciting for me to know that there are some structures in place to help those who want to pursue spiritual simplicity; for those who want to seek first God’s Kingdom.
Of course, most of us, for most of our lives, seek spiritual simplicity while living in a complicated, money-focused environment. We don’t get to the monastery very often, so we find spiritual practices that help us keep our focus; we make lifestyle choices that witness to our commitment to Christ’s way of peace and justice.
There are, I know, dramatic examples of such pure in heart people. The first person who comes to my mind, however, is my great grandmother. She died when I was in Jr. High, and the whole time I knew her she lived in a little one-bedroom house with no air conditioning (in Wichita). She never owned a car. She taught a Sunday School class for mentally retarded adults at her church. She cared for the many flowers in her yard and wrote the bloom dates of each on her wall calendar. When I went to her house I made cookies or played paper dolls or got out a board game.
I don’t think she had any particular theology of simplicity. I never saw her reading More with Less or heard her talk about environmental causes. Her simple life was a natural, joy-filled, result of seeking first God’s Kingdom.
The writer Edward Ziegler says that “The simple life is not one of narrow, stingy asceticism, but one of freedom from greed and freedom for sharing love.” It’s not about what we don’t do, or the things we don’t have, but it’s about where we choose to focus our spiritual energy.
Seek first God’s Kingdom and God’s righteousness and all these things will be added to you as well.
What is frustrating, at least for me, is that it so often seems that simplicity is anything but simple. I’m pretty sure the ladybug tablecloth weights are not necessary for a simple life, but is it OK to have them anyway? They are kind of cute.
What does it mean for us to embrace Christ-centered, Kingdom-seeking, simplicity as a spiritual practice? It’s not about what we do, but it affects what we do. It doesn’t prohibit us from having money, but it will guide the ways that we make and use our money. It involves more than praying and reading scripture, but it does involve praying and reading scripture.
The simple life is not easy.
I am encouraged to realize that Jesus’ followers were part of a community where everyone, on their good days, was seeking God’s Kingdom first. And the early church was part of a Kingdom-seeking community. And the new monastics today. And my great grandmother. And me. And you.
For me, this is one of the deepest graces of church. What is hard is not quite so hard with others walking with us on the journey.
We, as a church, provide practical help–the benevolence fund, the sharing list, reminders and encouragement toward generosity.
We, as a church, provide spiritual nurture and support–through worship, through prayer, through many and varied encouragements.
I find deep joy in being on this journey with you. May we continue to walk the path of Jesus together, as faithfully as we can. May we, together, practice Christ-centered simplicity. And may we keep our eyes wide open. Because we know that the pure in heart will see God. Amen.
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