Orginally published on Monday, June 04, 2007 at 7:08 AM
by Earl Creps
As Janet and I work through the application process to become church planters we continue to transition our lifestyle, mainly by throwing or giving things away. Our goal is to downsize radically in preparation for spending a lot of time on the road raising support (that’s how our system works) and for moving to Berkeley, where the housing makes Ikea stuff look too big...
The process of changing your life in this way is about choices. In our case, the first choice is whether an item has value, and, if so, exactly what kind of value. The junk (like dozens of old CD cases) will head to the landfill. And the good stuff (like some rocking chairs) will end up with our friends.
That’s the easy part. Clearly, I don’t need the 4 ounces of maple syrup I was given in Vermont ten years ago, and I’m also not about to put our intermittently functional CD player into the trash. But what about all the things that are in-between, things like clothes, and broken iPods, and the stuffed alligator in my office? Discerning degrees of value and utility is agonizing work.
Part of the agony is the realization that the ministry can be just another way to accumulate the icons of the middle class. The fact that I have all this stuff is, in one sense, just an artifact of the culture in which I was raised (suburban Boomer), but this fact only amplifies my disquiet.
It’s not that I can point to a car, or a house, or a DVD and say, “there it is…that’s where I went wrong…if I only hadn’t bought that, I would not have fallen into the trap of consumerism!” As appealing as that sort of exercise would be (especially considering that it would really preach!) I don’t think that culture always infiltrates us or our ministries (what missionaries call “syncretism”) in such overt ways.
As I haul loads of stuff to our three destinations of choice: curbside rubbish collection, Goodwill, and friends’ homes, I sometimes feel as if I am involved in a cycle of repentance. How did I end up with five white shirts, anyway, especially when I virtually never wear them? Why did I bring home dozens of tiny bottles of shampoo from hotels? Am I keeping score?
My lifestyle is medium by American standards. But if I really needed five computer bags, why am I planning on giving away at least three of them?
I fear the answer is simple. There is something inside me that tends to discontent, a level of need fostered by self-absorption and cultivated by media for decades to want just one thing out of life: more. This is the difference between consumption and consumerism. The “ism” indicates that this way of living is both an ideology and a spiritual stronghold with little regard for how God’s presence in my life should condition what I have.
I am aware that the New Testament does not recommend a vow of poverty, and that God often blesses people in material terms (something I hope to encounter). Also, I don’t appreciate the self-righteous edge of those who always claim to know what’s best for my planet and me.
But all that being said, I still have to make hundreds of tough calls about what stays and what goes. The decisions are hard because all this stuff has somehow come to matter so much to me. So each trip to Good Will is a journey of repentance in which I am being freed, in which I am prospering in a very different way.
I wonder if those we lead seem like consumers, because that’s how we seem to them?
About the Author: Earl Creps has spent several years visiting congregations that are attempting to engage emerging culture. He directs doctoral studies for the Assemblies of God Theological Seminary in Springfield, Missouri (http://www.agts.edu). Earl and his wife Janet have pastored three churches, one Boomer, one Builder, and one GenX. He speaks, trains, and consults with ministries around the country. Earl’s book, Off-Road Disciplines: Spiritual Adventures of Missional Leaders, was published by Jossey-Bass/Leadership Network in 2006. Connect with Earl at http://www.earlcreps.com .
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There are 4 Comments:
I ran a thrift store for a couple of years. It brought about the same sorts of thoughts you’re expressing here. We took literally tons of stuff to the landfill monthly. A quick glance there was enough to convince me that much of the “garbage” was still completely useable. It made something cringe in my spirit every time. And we actually asked our friends and relatives to stop buying gifts for us for every special occasion or trip they took. The excess in our consumptive society seemed almost unbearable. It makes you question your stewardship.
When we were preparing to move where we are currently at.... we had to go through each and every single item in our entire house, garage, and etc. We weren’t just downsizing.... we were literally moving into someone else’s home with all their stuff still there. To this date we only “own” 4 pieces of furniture and one vehicle. Yes, of course… We don’t really own those either…
The lessons learned have proved more valuable than what all the contents were worth. And that was 2 years ago....
It is amazing how freeing it can be.... Of course, I will never forget the pastor, his wife and three children who were sleeping in their church office at the time and “happened” to see our sign. The beat up couch that had seen better days never looked so good to them. The van we had rec’d as a gift years earlier suddenly had new owners.
Now as we are still in the process of clearing out what was my dad’s stuff - there are not tears. Had we not gone through what we had before - I believe it would have been incredibly different for my hubby, my self and our three sons.
I pray you never forget this part of the journey.
We moved last Fall after being in the same place for nine years. We took *so* many trips to the dump and thrift store - with stuff that we had once loved, but no longer used or needed.
Since then I have been convicted of our tendance to consume - not so much out of need, but out of boredom, or maybe to fill an emotional need. We browse garage sales, craigslist, the circulars, the mall - not because we have found a certain need are are looking for the right answer, but because they (all the places to consume) are there. (See Lynne Baab’s books: “Sabbath Keeping” and “Fasting")
This year, we have changed our focus. Instead of looking at what we don’t have, we are looking at what we do have, and how we can take care of, repair, improve it. We are also continuing to sift and pass on what we no longer need. With 4 kids, you can imagine the turnover of stuff - if we don’t find new homes for all the stuff, it just accumulates - and that, I think, is bad stewardship.
Simplicity is one of the spiritual disciplines - I agree, I don’t think it means poverty, but I do think it includes good stewardship. It also involves a focus on having what we have because God has given it to us, not because we have provided for ourselves.
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