I often look back fondly on the days when I could fit everything I own into my car. I could pack up my stuff in less than an hour and be on the road. It's a delightful feeling, one that gives a sense of freedom. But life happens, as they say. With weddings come all sorts of gifts. And I found out quickly that my wife wouldn't put up with my bachelor lifestyle. Before I was married, I just didn't care about what goes on walls, whether we use real curtains or a blanket over the windows, or whether we have a bed frame for our mattress. Perhaps it's my frugal and pragmatic side: curtains are expensive, we don't need any more picture frames, and I sleep just as well on a mattress on the floor as I do with a frame and box spring. But somehow, as the years increase so does our stuff. And it only compounds with kids. A changing table here, a few decorative plates there, and a box full of gifted plastic toys.
To be honest, I've been looking forward to the purge. Joy and I never have a good sense of how much we actually have until we move. I assume many experience this same thing. When you first move into a new place, the closets are tiny and you have no idea how everything will fit. By the time you leave, the same space transforms into a deep wardrobe that extends into Narnia- you just keep pulling out more stuff. And, it's usually stuff you didn't even use in the duration of your stay. I suspect some feel like it's Christmas when this happens. Each old item strikes you like it's new. Or, you remember why you kept it in the first place; a gift from a friend or relative, the outfits we hope will fit again, or the special dishes you like to use once a year for the annual Christmas party.
As we begin to sell and give away all of our stuff, Joy and I are beginning to feel some of the emotions that come with relative attachment to our stuff. Selling everything (usually for cheaper than the value you give it) has a way of enlightening us to where our hearts are. Seriously, why is it hard to watch someone buy my sweaters? Is it the sweater itself, the sense of comfort I received from that sweater on a chilly morning? Is it really just the way it feels, or do I feel like I'm losing a part of my personal style, personality, or identity? Do we not wear certain clothes as a way of telling others who we are? Is my collection of outdoor sweaters so wrapped up in how I want others to perceive me that I'm afraid of giving up the perception that I look like a hiker (even though I haven't done this in two or three years)? Or, could it be even deeper: am I ready to move to a location where sweaters just aren't necessary? I think how we hold on to our stuff says a lot about us.
Ultimately, the purge is healthy. Too many of us hold on so dearly to our possessions that we are no longer the ones who own them; they own us. And that's a form of idolatry. I suspect many of us live in a type of "catacomb of consumption." When our identity is wrapped up in the things we have, we lose the ability to discern who we are in Christ. And, when we have too tight a grip on the things we possess, we lose the ability to use them for the love of others.
Our N. American consumption hinders the practice of communal sharing, which belongs in the realm of God's kingdom come. It's not that its wrong for me to have sweaters, though it would be strange in a place like Hawaii. But when I experience the true freedom that comes from Christ, it sets us free from the stranglehold that our possessions have on us so that we can better love those around us. If we find ourselves having too tight a grip on our stuff, perhaps we should take a step back and examine whether we've fashioned God into our own image. And when we've done this type of examination (which often takes the discernment of good friends), we can be released from captivity to meaningless things and liberated toward pursuing God's intended creation.
I am reminded of a quote by St. John Chrysostom. He writes, "God gives some people more than they need, not that they can enjoy great luxury, but to make them stewards of [God's] bounty on behalf of orphans, the sick, and the crippled. If they are bad stewards, keeping this bounty to themselves, they will become poor in spirit, and their hearts will fill with misery. If they are good stewards, they will become rich in spirit, their hearts filling with joy."
No comments:
Post a Comment