Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Corporate Simplicity: The Church


Chapter 9 of "Freedom of Simplicity" opens with these words: "While individual effort is good, it is always limited. There are things we can do together that we cannot possibly do alone." (pg. 174)


An empty-nest couple lives in my neighborhood. The husband had to have a difficult surgery on his foot, knowing it was going to take several months to heal and be back on his feet. As soon as he had the surgery, his wife fell and she, too, has been unable to walk for several months. Neither of them can fix meals, drive, shovel snow, or countless other daily activities. They have had to depend upon the love and care of neighbors, grown children, and friends to get through these long months. It has been quite a lesson in trust and dependence--as much as we like to think we are in control, times of dependence strip us of that illusion.


Dependence sometimes masquerades as weakness, as laziness, or as failure. But there are always times in our lives that we come to the end of ourselves and discover that we have needs we cannot fill on our own. This is how God designed us. This is why God provided a Savior. And if we never become aware of our need for God, how will we ever come to experience God's provisions for us?


On the other hand, God also created us to BE the provisions for another. There are times when I have had to ask someone if they would take care of my children for the weekend so I could either share ministry with the church or spend time with my husband to strengthen my marriage. Every time I have asked someone to fill this need, I have felt this great guilt, like I am asking too much, like I have to apologize for this huge request. And without exception, the people I have asked have felt honored and grateful for the opportunity to fill this need, and were thrilled to do it. When I really think about it, I would feel the same way if they asked me to fill a need for them. If we never allow others to help us, how will they ever be able to express the love that Christ desires them to share? If we never take the opportunity to help another, how can we practice the love that Christ has shown to us?


We must begin to understand that we were made to both give and receive. In our daily life. And in our life of faith.


Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Outward Simplicity


"There are two ways to get enough: one is to continue to accumulate more and more. The other is to desire less." -- G.K. Chesterton


We are well-schooled in the accumulation mentality here in the United States of America. It is as natural to us as breathing. What is not natural to us is "desiring less." We think of that as sacrifice. We think of that as giving up something. But what if it turns out that what we thought was sacrifice actually frees us to be happier and more "comfortable"? What if it turns out that by giving up something, we receive even more?


In our family, we have chosen to not pursue fancy birthday parties for our kids, and instead celebrate with creative, homemade birthday parties. Are our kids deprived? No. And the parties we have hosted are different and memorable from the umpteen thousand Chuck E. Cheese parties to which our overindulged suburban children have been invited. This is but one of many choices that we have made as a family regarding ways we spend our time and money. We host neighborhood grill-outs and game nights with friends as a way to foster relationships without buying into the constant lure of entertainment spending. We drive cars that are functional and practical, but by no means extravagent. Instead of fancy ski resort vacations, we rent a cabin in a state park and go cross-country skiing. We go family camping to foster a love for nature and family memories.


This is not to say that we don't have many aspects of our life that need to be scrutinized and recalibrated as we seek to be ever more faithful. But there are countless opportunities to live into Chesterton's insight to "desire less."


What are some ways that you can make adjustments in your life so as to "desire less" as we continue to consider the Freedom of Simplicity together?

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Journaling


In steps toward holy obedience, Foster suggests keeping a spiritual journal.

Do you keep a journal?

How do you journal? Do you have a daily time when you journal or do you just do it when the mood strikes you to write something down?

What kinds of things do you journal--prayers, things you've read/heard, questions, experiences, dreams?

Have you found journaling to be a helpful spiritual practice? Why or why not?

No, LORD


I started reading Chapter 6 on the front end of a miserable cold, and set Foster's book down for the rest of the week. I noticed that this story stayed with me all week, however. In a nutshell, a college student was struggling with a sermon she had heard. She said to the preacher, "Your message was so compelling, but I'm afraid to truly make Christ Lord, afraid of what he'll ask of me." The preacher said to her, "You know it is possible to say 'No,' and it is possible to say 'Lord,' but it is not really possible to say, 'No, Lord.'" (pg. 112, Freedom of Simplicity) That's the phrase that has haunted me for days now.


No, Lord.


How easy it is to be tempted into saying those words, as if I know better than God what is good for me.


No, Lord.


How enticing it is to try to "protect" myself from some wild and risky adventure God might ask me to take on.


But "No, Lord" does not bring inner peace. It does not simplify life, but complicates it. It puts us at odds with God's purposes and desires for us. It sends us running away from God like the prodigal son.


We run headlong, once again, to a paradox: "true self fulfillment comes only through self-denial. There is no other way." (pg. 113)


In running after our own ease, comfort and desires instead of toward those things that God has equipped and called us to do, we find ourselves comfortable, but miserable, wondering if this is all there is to life. We find ourselves either bored and restless, or filled with frenetic and meaningless activity that does not bring deep joy.


But when we say "Yes, Lord" and agree to a difficult, uncomfortable, maybe even risky thing that God clearly wants us to do, we discover that though the work may be hard, the reason for that work fills us with a sense of value and purpose, and we discover that we have had a taste of true "self-fulfillment."


So is it going to be no?

Or is it going to be Lord?



Monday, March 8, 2010

Foster's Image of Multiple Selves


In Chapter 5 of "Freedom of Simplicity," Richard Foster begins to move from theory to practice. He moves from definition and history to practical, everyday living. He begins to explain what it would look like to live out simplicity in tasks and decisions--put God in the center.
In describing what it means to put God in the center, Foster describes what it is like to live without God in the center. He develops the image this way: "Within all of is is a whole conglomerate of selves. There is the timid self, the courageous self, the business self, the parental self, the religious self, the literary self, the energetic self. All of these selves are rugged individualists. No bargaining or compromise for them. Each one screams to protect his or her vested interest. If a decision is made to spend a relaxed evening listening to Chopin, the business self and the civic self rise up in protest at the loss of precious time. The energetic self paces back and forth, impatient and frustrated, and the religious self reminds us of the lost opportunities for study or evangelistic contact. If the decision is to accept an appointment on the human services board, the civic self smiles with satisfaction, but all the excluded selves filibuster. No wonder we feel distracted and torn." (p. 95-96)
What this creates, Foster theorizes, is a majority rule within ourselves, "which always leaves a disgruntled minority." This disgruntled minority eats at us. It fills our lives with guilt or compels us to take on too much.
Hey...I resemble that.
Foster asserts that it is possible to live in such a way that God's Spirit enters into the center of these multiple selves, quieting the clamor of self-interest, and integrating us internally such that there is no longer the disgruntled minority. No more competing selves debating. They are replaced by a deeper sense of communion with God which gives perspective on what is good and needful, and governs how we should use our time and energy not as a balancing act, but from a deep source of knowing to what we should say yes and to what we should say no. "The divine yes or no settles all minority reports...Our many selves come under the unifying control of the divine Arbitrator." (p. 96) And the result is, a level of peace that cannot be experienced when the multiple selves are always in conflict with one another.
Is it really possible to live this way?
Can we experience this kind of inner simplicity?
What would have to change in our lives to allow God to take the place of "Divine Arbitrator" amidst our multiple selves and their self-interests?

Thursday, March 4, 2010


Chapter 4 sets out 6 historical models of simplicity:

1. Exhuberant caring and sharing (the period following the Apostolic age)

2. The power of renunciation (Desert Fathers and Mothers)

3. The joy of simplicity (St. Francis of Assissi)

4. Theology in the cause of simplicity (the Reformation)

5. Hearing the voice of God and obeying (seventeenth century Quakers)

6. Simplicity in action (John Wesley and early Methodists)


Many saints who have come before us have tried to navigate their way through the cultural waters of life as it intersects with the Christian faith. Or as Foster writes: "History has a wonderful way of freeing us from the cult of the contemporary...We realize more pointedly than ever before that God has spoken in the past, and that we are not the only ones who have sought to live in faithful conformity to his word." (p. 61)


The paradox once again is that "simplicity" is not that simple. We can't just take a historical model and plop it into our lives as the way we can "acheive simplicity." For example, I can learn from the Desert Fathers and Mothers, and be moved by their insights and writings, but I cannot just up and leave my children to fend for themselves while I commune with God in the desert. The question is: what can we learn from those who have sought to be obedient to Christ in the past? And what adjustments is God calling us to make in the life we are currently leading?




Monday, March 1, 2010

Contemplating Chapter 3--Freedom of Simplicity


Chapter 3 focuses on the New Testament foundation for simplicity. Foster bears witness to Christ's invitation to lift the oppressive burdens of the people. And what were these "burdens?" To be sure, Jesus spoke to a Jewish audience of people who were weighed down by the crushing load of following the intricate laws of Judaism. But in that day, just like in our day, one of the greatest burdens of life was the burden of "providing for themselves against tomorrow." (pg. 38) Who among us has not worried about how we are going to pay our bills, or whether or not we will be secure in our retirement, or whether we will be able to send our children to college to secure their futures? To be carefree and nonchalant about those things seems irresponsible. To be constantly worried about those things fuels anxiety and begins to feel like an oppressive burden. Is it possible to take Jesus up on the invitation to "come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" without being irresponsible about the part we play as stewards of our lives and work and financial resources?


I have to confess that I struggle with this one. Some very dear friends, who are committed Christians, have been through a season of financial strain. Some bad investments, a weakening construction industry (the husband is in construction supply sales), and a one-income household has made their financial status very tight. They kept trusting God to supply their needs, which I affirmed, but a part of me kept saying, the wife should seriously look at going back to work. That would be the "responsible" thing to do. A church community and a neighborhood have prayed for them, left a few groceries on their doorstep, provided hand me downs, and tried to care for them out of love. And you know what? Through the relationships and communities in which they have invested their time and energy, and through the grace of God, they have had food to eat, clothes to wear, and a roof over their head. This past week, they were informed that her husband had recieved a cash award for his outstanding work. The financial pressure has just been significantly reduced after 2 long, hard years. The wife sent out a letter to the communities who have surrounded them: "I wanted to thank you (again) for praying us through some extrememly hard and dry times. Your prayers and encouragement truly have been like "streams in the desert." To God be all the glory. My husband worked very hard planting and watering, but we both know that God alone is the one who caused the growth. I stand in awe of our God. At times He has been silent, but He has never been absent." Was this a fluke? Or was it in fact God's provision for God's trusting children? Was the "responsible" thing working hard but also investing in relationship with God and neighbor? Or was the "responsible" thing to go seek out a second income and relieve the anxiety and financial pressure long before now?




Unburdening ourselves of the need to secure our future is not "simple" at all. It is woven with a sense of responsibility, feelings of fear, desire to trust, and call to stewardship. Jesus was right about this: we are burdened. Burdened by:


Fear that we will not be able to provide for life's basic necessities


Fear of losing what we have worked so hard to gain


Fear of all the "what-ifs" of today and tomorrow


A sense that we need to watch out for ourselves for fear that nobody else will


A need to prove our worth to the world


An uncertainty about what it means to trust God when it comes to the future--and what part our own efforts/work play into the equation


What is Jesus trying to teach us as we consider what it might mean to experience freedom from the oppressive concern about securing our futures? Which of the burdens listed above are especially burdensome for you? Consider this question: How would my life be different if I were able to let go of this burden and experience the freedom that Jesus offers me in this area? I look forward to hearing your comments.