the simple life, part 1

The “Gospel of Consumption” article I discussed in my last post has been part of a larger stream of thought for me this month. As we live in this consumer culture, I believe we find a war of sorts going on inside of us – a war of desires. On one hand, having bought into this consumer gospel, we consistently live according to its doctrine: the more you buy, the bigger the house, the nicer the appliances, the happier you will be. Yet, we also consistently find that this doesn’t actually prove to be true in reality. Then, when we look around at all of our accumulated stuff, we begin to hate it because all it really does is complicate our lives and give us more to worry about, more to maintain. So at the very same time that we desire more, we also find in ourselves a strong desire for less. We hunger for a simpler life that is not spent maintaining all of the things that don’t actually make us any happier.

This desire for simplicity is no secret. In fact, it seems to be a fairly consistent theme in the films and literature of our culture. Films such as Fight Club and, more recently, Into the Wild, explore the depths of this human desire and potential responses to it. Songwriters such as Jeff Tweedy (Wilco), Thom Yorke (Radiohead), Bono (U2) and Jay Farrar (Son Volt) regularly explore the emptiness of a consumer culture and identity, while juxtaposing it against the deeper spirituality inherent to us humans. Indeed, filmmakers and songwriters, who in many ways act as prophets of our day, regularly pit those two realities against one another. Is our identity what we own? Or is it something deeper? Something both simpler and more complex? We long for a life that finds its meaning not in what we own or in a successful career, but in the depth and security of our relationships (with God and others). We all know that the label on our jeans doesn't say anything about who we are, yet somehow we can't help defining ourselves this way. (It may be far more subtle, by the way. Do you drink Kaldi's Coffee, or Folgers? Shop at Wal-Mart or Whole Foods?)

Earlier this year, I finally had a chance to read what is widely seen as a classic of Christian spirituality: Celebration of Discipline, by Richard Foster. Although it was written 30 years ago, I found it to be profoundly relevant still today. The book focuses on 12 different spiritual disciplines, one of which being simplicity. It is there that I want to linger for a few posts. Foster’s explanation of this classic discipline is something we all desperately need to delve into for ourselves in order to find a center amidst the reckless pull of a consumer culture.

First, as a brief but important note: spiritual disciplines are not intended as means toward a relationship with God. In fact, they can only rightly flow out of a relationship that is already established. Discipline that is not empowered by a restored relationship with God, based upon faith in Christ, amounts only to hard legalism and works-based salvation. Our works don’t save us, Jesus does. And he is the one who enables us to grow in any discipline. Once that relationship is established, the disciplines are what many theologians have called a "means of grace," or a God-ordained way that we grow in and deepen that relationship. That’s a whole separate discussion, and an important one, but one I won’t go further into here.

Foster points out that with any discipline, there is both an inward reality (this begins with that foundational new life in Christ I just spoke of) and an outward reality. The former must come first, before any outward fruits. So with simplicity, we don’t want to just change our practices (ie. stop buying so much stuff), but first change inwardly. I want to spend this post and the next on the inward reality, and then the last on the outward manifestations.

So how would we cultivate this inward reality? Foster points to Matthew 6:25-33, where Jesus explains that we don't need to worry about having what we will need, for God will provide our needs if we simply "seek first His kingdom and His righteousness." This is the foundation for a simple life. The reality is that we will spend our lives in pursuit of something. That's how we are made - we all worship something, whether it's God or something else. The only way to true simplicity is to renounce these other gods (whether it be the latest gadget or anything else) and seek first God's kingdom and righteousness. This means that our day-to-day priorities are determined by God and not our own passing fancies. And surely if we hope to break out of our current stream, then we must have hope in a different one. The fact that Christ is Lord, and that His Kingdom is here now and will be fully here in time, gives us a totally different world view from which to work. To pursue this kingdom means seeking a place where the last are first, where possessions are shared, and where justice is established. It is a place much different from the one we know.

It’s easy to respond to the consumer culture with frustration and anger, and come up with many possible solutions. Like I said, many already do this in various ways within our culture. But, as Foster says, we need a “place to stand” in order to see true change within ourselves and in society as a whole. Seeking the kingdom is a reorientation of our desires and pursuits so that they are pointed toward the right place, and the only place in which they can be fulfilled. Could it be that the pursuit of contentment we see so freely at work in our consumption habits is actually a reflection of a deep desire to pursue something meaningful? What if we redirected that pursuit toward that which actually lasts? That is what Jesus is saying – don’t store up treasure where everything fades away, store it in a place that endures! Seek first the kingdom – my Father’s eternal kingdom! This isn’t a killing of our desires for happiness – it’s the only place they can be fulfilled. True, in seeking genuine simplicity, we will kill some of our desires and die to ourselves. Jesus said boldly, "Whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it." (Luke 9:24) So in the end we do not lose. What will remain is our life, more pure and full and human than we can possibly imagine from where we stand. So this must be the starting point for any journey toward simplicity. Only here are we free to look at our possessions and pursuits in a new light.

So what would this new pursuit look like? How might we bring Christ’s Lordship to bear in every area of our lives, both personally and publicly? How might we pursue his righteousness and make that our primary concern over what we have or what we think we need? These are good questions to chew on before moving forward with this discussion.