A Disciplined Faith: Simplicity
Fr. Alan Andraeas, Prior
Fr. Alan Andraeas, Prior
"Whom have I in heaven but You?
And having You, I desire nothing upon the earth."
Psalm 73:25
As you can imagine, the interior disciplines (meditation, prayer, fasting, and study) are those ancient Christian practices that aid in quelling the "brute beast" within us (Psalm 73:22) by targeting, chipping away, and mortifying various aspects of 'self' in order to promote the sovereignty of Jesus Christ. And as the name implies, the interior disciplines tend to impact those things that other people can't see; things known only to God (Psalm 94:11; Hebrews 4:12; cf., Matthew 9:4). We've taken the last four newsletters to examine each one of these disciplines in turn and I hope you are encouraged to introduce these disciplines into your own exercise of intentional faith and devotion.
Now it is time to examine the exterior disciplines. Saint Brendan's Rule of Life focuses on six of them: simplicity, solitude, submission, service, purity, and temperance. Let's begin with simplicity.
At its core, simplicity is the outward reflection of one's inner state of being. In practice, simplicity is how we lay aside those things that can clutter or interfere with a life of devotion and consecration. When our inner man and outer man are unified as one through simplicity and yielded as a gift to Christ, He reciprocates that gift with freedom, contentment, joy, and balance. The result is a heaven-sent liberation from the insane and insatiable attachments to things, status, influence, and affluence which this world says are so necessary for our happiness. And since simplicity often refers to stuff, it seems like a good place to start. [Sue’s article concentrates on the faith and belief side of simplicity—you may even want to read that one first!]
Have you ever seen the license plate frame that says “He who dies with the most toys wins”? Have you ever seen it on sporty, expensive cars? I have, on the I-395 beltway around Washing-ton, DC. I suppose that's the contemporary version of the older expression, "Keeping up with the Jones'." Jesus had some rather poignant things to say about stuff. He declared that materialism (Aramaic, mammon) was a rival god in one's life (Luke 16:13). He also told the crowds that our lives do not consist of—and are not measured by—the abundance of our possessions (Luke 12:15). I think it's interesting to note that Jesus spoke more about personal economics than any other social issue; and if He spoke about how these things could snare folks living in a peasant society, imagine how much more seriously we need to take His words to heart in our materially driven culture!
So what’s the answer? Do we start holding yard sales and giving our things to thrift stores? Not necessarily. You see, a hyper-ordered life with a perfect, minimalist, feng shui-esque house may not reflect God’s plan for us, either. That’s because, apart from the Lord, simplicity can also become a crippling legalism that can kill or inflate the one’s spirit. Authentic simplicity must, first and foremost, must be knit to the heart of God. And in a very practical sense, true simplicity begins by believing that He will not leave us without adequate provision (Deuteronomy 8:7-9). Of course, our definition of ‘adequate’ must be based on the mind of Christ and not on the relentless din of popular marketing. Advertising experts on Madison Ave-nue are more than happy to tell us what we want to have, but Christ alone knows what we need to have; He knows what we require for our “daily bread” (Matthew 6:11; Luke 12:22-34).
“But I don’t know if I could handle a life of bare-bones austerity.” Did I say austerity? True, there are some exceptional individuals whom God calls to live in holy poverty and asceticism, but that’s not His call for everybody. Even St. Paul said that he learned how to live in a state of plenty (Philippians 4:12). Actually, our call to intentional disciplined faith gives us the privilege of offering to the world an outward example of Christlike-ness in a consumer-crazed society; an example of ongoing, thoughtful prudence in deciding what and how much we bring into our lives. Viewed this way, simplicity becomes a biblical life-orientation that allows the Holy Spirit to manage our possessions in order that we’re not ruled or destroyed by them.
It’s no wonder that simplicity is the most visible of our spiritual disciplines; it stands directly opposed to our prevailing culture’s wasteful, throw-away, gluttonous lifestyle (did you know that our obsessive penchant for recreational shopping can actually turn into psychological disorder, pleonexia?!). The best way to demonstrate this simplicity is by pursuing the kingdom of heaven as our first and foremost possession. When others see our lives turned toward heaven, they will also see God’s faithfulness in making sure that everything we need for our wellbeing comes to us in its proper measure (Matthew 6:33). In fact, if heaven and Christ’s righteousness are our true passions, then we will discover the blessing of how little of earth’s tangible goods we need to be happy. You may even find that the Holy Spirit grants you a joyful lack of interest for possessions—the truest of liberties which allows us to trust in God’s faithfulness for our full contentment.
This kind of biblical simplicity can be characterized by three inner attitudes toward the material world:
That what we have is a gift from God, even if our hands have labored to acquire it.
That our relationship with our possessions needs to be one of stewardship, not ownership.
That our possessions are to be held with an ‘open hand,’ being made available to others who can benefit from their use.
These define the inner reality of simplicity and reflect Jesus’ words, “Do not be anxious” (Luke 12:22; cf., Philippians 4:6). They also set the parameters for our outward practice.
What should someone’s practice of simplicity look like? God has set each of us in different places and in different stations of life. My practice won’t look like your practice, and your practice won’t look your friend’s practice. But there are some basic principles that can help to govern the external life of a consecrated believer. Here are several for your consideration:
Acquire what you need based on its usefulness and utility, not for its promise of status or prestige. If people are to be impressed by anything, they should be impressed with your life in Christ and not with your stuff.
Use things until they are worn or are no longer serviceable or repairable.
Consider all the things you can do for yourself. Can you make by hand the things that you would normally purchase, like clothes? Can you cook from scratch at a frac-tion of the cost what you would normally spend on pre-cooked or frozen meals? Can you obtain a simple lawn mower and cut your own grass (and perhaps that of your neighbor’s) rather than hiring a lawn service?
Do you buy things for the purpose of brand name recognition or for the function of the item? John Wesley once wrote, “[When it comes to] apparel, I buy the most lasting and, in general, the plainest I can. In the same fashion, I buy no furniture but what is necessary and cheap.”
You see, if we acquire things simply to impress others, to feed our needs, to accumulate bigger and better, or to increase our level of ease (and remember, ease is not the same as peace and contentment), then we are still governed by the consumer demons of our society.
One good corrective to this very ‘American’ way of life is to balance what we accumulate with the things we get rid of. What should go first? Those things in our lives that are based on addictions. An addiction doesn’t need to take the form of sugar, caffeine, alcohol, or drugs. It can be the 200+ satellite channels that pour into our TVs. It can be the need for whatever’s on display in the window of our favorite boutique, from the cutest sandals to the latest Bluetooth gadget. It can even be that particular flavor of soft drink stocked by the case inside your back door or the internet news feeds that you constantly monitor 24 hours a day. Each one of these might be a controlling factor in your life, and if that’s the case then a prayerful surrender of these things is certainly advised. Ask God to free you from such burdens because they may act as an allegiance to something other than God (remember Jesus’ words about mammon?).
Another consideration for simplicity is the idea of de-accumulation. This is not the same thing as getting rid of the things that control us. Rather, de-accumulation is giving up or giving away those things we have too much of or no longer need. Most of us could probably give away half the things in our homes—furniture, clothes, shoes, kitchen gadgets, stereos, televisions—and not experience any great sacrifice. That is a major indicator of our need for simplicity.
Finally, simplicity should also govern the intangible things in our lives; things like our speech. For example, we don’t want lives characterized by our “much speaking” (Matthew 6:7) no matter what form it takes. Phones, email, social media, Skype, text messages; how much is godly, how much is idle, how much is injurious or laced with gossip, how much of it flatters, how much of it controls, and how much of it is a reflection of our own internal chaos and clutter? Like every other area in our lives, we should practice an “economy of diction” with our mouths. Or as Jesus said when He raised the issue of plain speech with His disciples: “Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil” (Matthew 5:37).
Finally guard yourself by shunning anything that deters you from seeking first the Kingdom of God (Matthew 6:33). Excessive attention given to things that, on the sur-face, may be perfectly fine can eventually become the center of your world, distracting you from that which is of first importance: the imitation of Christ. If you would like to see what St. Benedict said about simplicity, I would encourage you to study chapters 33 and 55 of his Rule. And to get you thinking ahead, the next issue of The Navigator will examine the external discipline of solitude.
Rejoice!
Fr. Alan Andraeas
And having You, I desire nothing upon the earth."
Psalm 73:25
As you can imagine, the interior disciplines (meditation, prayer, fasting, and study) are those ancient Christian practices that aid in quelling the "brute beast" within us (Psalm 73:22) by targeting, chipping away, and mortifying various aspects of 'self' in order to promote the sovereignty of Jesus Christ. And as the name implies, the interior disciplines tend to impact those things that other people can't see; things known only to God (Psalm 94:11; Hebrews 4:12; cf., Matthew 9:4). We've taken the last four newsletters to examine each one of these disciplines in turn and I hope you are encouraged to introduce these disciplines into your own exercise of intentional faith and devotion.
Now it is time to examine the exterior disciplines. Saint Brendan's Rule of Life focuses on six of them: simplicity, solitude, submission, service, purity, and temperance. Let's begin with simplicity.
At its core, simplicity is the outward reflection of one's inner state of being. In practice, simplicity is how we lay aside those things that can clutter or interfere with a life of devotion and consecration. When our inner man and outer man are unified as one through simplicity and yielded as a gift to Christ, He reciprocates that gift with freedom, contentment, joy, and balance. The result is a heaven-sent liberation from the insane and insatiable attachments to things, status, influence, and affluence which this world says are so necessary for our happiness. And since simplicity often refers to stuff, it seems like a good place to start. [Sue’s article concentrates on the faith and belief side of simplicity—you may even want to read that one first!]
Have you ever seen the license plate frame that says “He who dies with the most toys wins”? Have you ever seen it on sporty, expensive cars? I have, on the I-395 beltway around Washing-ton, DC. I suppose that's the contemporary version of the older expression, "Keeping up with the Jones'." Jesus had some rather poignant things to say about stuff. He declared that materialism (Aramaic, mammon) was a rival god in one's life (Luke 16:13). He also told the crowds that our lives do not consist of—and are not measured by—the abundance of our possessions (Luke 12:15). I think it's interesting to note that Jesus spoke more about personal economics than any other social issue; and if He spoke about how these things could snare folks living in a peasant society, imagine how much more seriously we need to take His words to heart in our materially driven culture!
So what’s the answer? Do we start holding yard sales and giving our things to thrift stores? Not necessarily. You see, a hyper-ordered life with a perfect, minimalist, feng shui-esque house may not reflect God’s plan for us, either. That’s because, apart from the Lord, simplicity can also become a crippling legalism that can kill or inflate the one’s spirit. Authentic simplicity must, first and foremost, must be knit to the heart of God. And in a very practical sense, true simplicity begins by believing that He will not leave us without adequate provision (Deuteronomy 8:7-9). Of course, our definition of ‘adequate’ must be based on the mind of Christ and not on the relentless din of popular marketing. Advertising experts on Madison Ave-nue are more than happy to tell us what we want to have, but Christ alone knows what we need to have; He knows what we require for our “daily bread” (Matthew 6:11; Luke 12:22-34).
“But I don’t know if I could handle a life of bare-bones austerity.” Did I say austerity? True, there are some exceptional individuals whom God calls to live in holy poverty and asceticism, but that’s not His call for everybody. Even St. Paul said that he learned how to live in a state of plenty (Philippians 4:12). Actually, our call to intentional disciplined faith gives us the privilege of offering to the world an outward example of Christlike-ness in a consumer-crazed society; an example of ongoing, thoughtful prudence in deciding what and how much we bring into our lives. Viewed this way, simplicity becomes a biblical life-orientation that allows the Holy Spirit to manage our possessions in order that we’re not ruled or destroyed by them.
It’s no wonder that simplicity is the most visible of our spiritual disciplines; it stands directly opposed to our prevailing culture’s wasteful, throw-away, gluttonous lifestyle (did you know that our obsessive penchant for recreational shopping can actually turn into psychological disorder, pleonexia?!). The best way to demonstrate this simplicity is by pursuing the kingdom of heaven as our first and foremost possession. When others see our lives turned toward heaven, they will also see God’s faithfulness in making sure that everything we need for our wellbeing comes to us in its proper measure (Matthew 6:33). In fact, if heaven and Christ’s righteousness are our true passions, then we will discover the blessing of how little of earth’s tangible goods we need to be happy. You may even find that the Holy Spirit grants you a joyful lack of interest for possessions—the truest of liberties which allows us to trust in God’s faithfulness for our full contentment.
This kind of biblical simplicity can be characterized by three inner attitudes toward the material world:
That what we have is a gift from God, even if our hands have labored to acquire it.
That our relationship with our possessions needs to be one of stewardship, not ownership.
That our possessions are to be held with an ‘open hand,’ being made available to others who can benefit from their use.
These define the inner reality of simplicity and reflect Jesus’ words, “Do not be anxious” (Luke 12:22; cf., Philippians 4:6). They also set the parameters for our outward practice.
What should someone’s practice of simplicity look like? God has set each of us in different places and in different stations of life. My practice won’t look like your practice, and your practice won’t look your friend’s practice. But there are some basic principles that can help to govern the external life of a consecrated believer. Here are several for your consideration:
Acquire what you need based on its usefulness and utility, not for its promise of status or prestige. If people are to be impressed by anything, they should be impressed with your life in Christ and not with your stuff.
Use things until they are worn or are no longer serviceable or repairable.
Consider all the things you can do for yourself. Can you make by hand the things that you would normally purchase, like clothes? Can you cook from scratch at a frac-tion of the cost what you would normally spend on pre-cooked or frozen meals? Can you obtain a simple lawn mower and cut your own grass (and perhaps that of your neighbor’s) rather than hiring a lawn service?
Do you buy things for the purpose of brand name recognition or for the function of the item? John Wesley once wrote, “[When it comes to] apparel, I buy the most lasting and, in general, the plainest I can. In the same fashion, I buy no furniture but what is necessary and cheap.”
You see, if we acquire things simply to impress others, to feed our needs, to accumulate bigger and better, or to increase our level of ease (and remember, ease is not the same as peace and contentment), then we are still governed by the consumer demons of our society.
One good corrective to this very ‘American’ way of life is to balance what we accumulate with the things we get rid of. What should go first? Those things in our lives that are based on addictions. An addiction doesn’t need to take the form of sugar, caffeine, alcohol, or drugs. It can be the 200+ satellite channels that pour into our TVs. It can be the need for whatever’s on display in the window of our favorite boutique, from the cutest sandals to the latest Bluetooth gadget. It can even be that particular flavor of soft drink stocked by the case inside your back door or the internet news feeds that you constantly monitor 24 hours a day. Each one of these might be a controlling factor in your life, and if that’s the case then a prayerful surrender of these things is certainly advised. Ask God to free you from such burdens because they may act as an allegiance to something other than God (remember Jesus’ words about mammon?).
Another consideration for simplicity is the idea of de-accumulation. This is not the same thing as getting rid of the things that control us. Rather, de-accumulation is giving up or giving away those things we have too much of or no longer need. Most of us could probably give away half the things in our homes—furniture, clothes, shoes, kitchen gadgets, stereos, televisions—and not experience any great sacrifice. That is a major indicator of our need for simplicity.
Finally, simplicity should also govern the intangible things in our lives; things like our speech. For example, we don’t want lives characterized by our “much speaking” (Matthew 6:7) no matter what form it takes. Phones, email, social media, Skype, text messages; how much is godly, how much is idle, how much is injurious or laced with gossip, how much of it flatters, how much of it controls, and how much of it is a reflection of our own internal chaos and clutter? Like every other area in our lives, we should practice an “economy of diction” with our mouths. Or as Jesus said when He raised the issue of plain speech with His disciples: “Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil” (Matthew 5:37).
Finally guard yourself by shunning anything that deters you from seeking first the Kingdom of God (Matthew 6:33). Excessive attention given to things that, on the sur-face, may be perfectly fine can eventually become the center of your world, distracting you from that which is of first importance: the imitation of Christ. If you would like to see what St. Benedict said about simplicity, I would encourage you to study chapters 33 and 55 of his Rule. And to get you thinking ahead, the next issue of The Navigator will examine the external discipline of solitude.
Rejoice!
Fr. Alan Andraeas