For our boast is this, the testimony of our conscience, that we behaved in the world with simplicity and godly sincerity, not by earthly wisdom but by the grace of God, and supremely so toward you. 2 Corinthians 1:12
For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. Matthew 6:21
Just a Tad Distracted
I really like technology, which may come as a shock to those who know me. Often, plopping down on the couch and watching a good tech review is really enjoyable for me. When I’m aiming to make a purchase, I can spend hours watching/reading reviews, analyzing specs, and making sure I get the best product for the price.
It’s my thing, don’t judge.
The problem is that those reviews can (quite obviously) build up discontent in me. Watching a review on a TV gets me thinking that maybe, just maybe, it’s time to replace mine. A review on a new laptop? Well, I mean I could really use that for all those word docs I type up…
Like it or not, who I am is shaped by those videos, and I’ve generally stopped watching them because I noticed they were making me just a bit less like Jesus (unless I really do need to pick up a new gadget). Worse than just the discontent in my heart is when I bring those products into my home. A few years back I bought one of those nice, new, TVs from the reviews. Great price for the product, premium image quality, etc.
Great purchase.
Until I’ve realized how often I was yelling at my kids, “woah, watch the TV!” or “Hey, not near the TV!”. A living room that could’ve been a great place for a little whiffle ball action was now totally off limits. Lightsaber duels? Not in the living room.
Suddenly I made a whole section of our small home inaccessible to my children for that type of play.
You see, the clutter of our lives shapes us and those around us. This is true for the “noise” of life (like social media, YouTube videos, etc.) and for the physical things around us.
Bursting at the Seams
My wife and I are raising four children in a home that is less than 1000 square feet. For some, that may seem normal, but in my community that is incredibly odd. F
For years family and friends were telling my wife and I that we’d “outgrow” our home, and that was when we just had one little dude. For a little while, we believed them. We looked for larger homes or new accommodations, but God consistently closed those doors until finally we stopped and asked ourselves… why?
We looked at the reasons we (and most others) would consider a larger home, and found them sort of foolish. More space? Well, wouldn’t that make our family feel and act more distant? Separate rooms for the boys? But, don’t we want them to grow up as best friends? Privacy? Do I have something to hide?
We didn’t take the advice, and now with four children running around, you’d think we’d be bursting at the seams. But we aren’t. We’re actually happier than ever.
Having such a “little” space (only little by American standards, by the way) means that our family has to work together to get along. We don’t have anyone who just go off to a room when they get annoyed, they have to be mature and handle their problems and emotions. That’s true for my four-year-old all the way to my wife and I.
Beyond our family dynamics though, it’s financially sound. Smaller homes have less taxes, less electric bills, and less repair costs. This could allow us to pad out savings account (tempting), or could be used to help support others in the Church who need help (far wiser, biblically). Choosing less for ourselves allows us to give more to others. Plus, it means we (quite literally) have to bring less stuff into our home. We aren’t a family of hoarders because we have nowhere to hoard. And this means are children are finding themselves far more attached to people than things.
Don’t get me wrong, my wife and I only discovered these benefits after going through our own journey trying to upsize. But what came first was that our hearts were turned towards him. The crux of the matter isn’t a small home (though some of us out there need to either downsize or stop the hunt to upsize), but instead the condition of our heart.
With Less Stuff…
To be clear, I don’t believe just having “less” makes us more like Jesus. The gospel of Christ doesn’t need minimalism, just Christ and him crucified (2 Corinthians 2:2).
Still, wisdom would call us to seriously question what we are allowing into our world that may make us more or less like the author and perfector of our faith. If we want to be like Jesus, there’s wisdom in looking at the life of Christ, and the lives of saints who’ve gone before us.
And you honestly can’t get away from the fact that Jesus didn’t really own anything.
After Jesus (and well before the popular Netflix documentary), Christians in the monastic movement were practicing lives of deep simplicity, which is generally where today’s vogue minimalist movement has its roots. Although I’m oversimplifying it here (pun intended), the idea is that with fewer earthly distractions the follower of Jesus is freer to pursue Christ. And there’s truth to that!
Here at the Living Room Disciple, we really believe that we are in a formation process. Like clay that hasn’t set yet, we are malleable. The hands that hold us as we spin about on the potter’s wheel will either make us into something beautiful, or something twisted. As followers of Jesus, there’s a natural desire, and assumption, that it is the hands of God that is doing the shaping. After all, that image of the Potter and the clay is used throughout the Bible (from Jeremiah, to Romans, and 2 Timothy) to make that claim.
But let me take that imagery just a bit further. Could it also be true that we sometimes invite other hands to the Potter’s wheel? Are there times in which we push against the hands of the Potter who loves us, and pursue formation from other influences, other “hands”?
The removing of earthly distractions is kind of like removing all other hands from the Potter’s wheel, or at least a few of them.
For more content like this, check out the Living Room Disciple Podcast here, or check out our website.
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