Stuff is bad.
Materialism is practically evil.
Get rid of everything and go live in a tiny house.
With four children and your dog.
Oh and while we’re at it, you should probably keep chickens (in a coop that’s larger than your bathroom) and bake everything from scratch.
In your counter-less, appliance-free kitchen.
Okay, so true confession, I hear this and I cringe a little. Actually, for my husband I cringe a lot. No way you’re sticking a six foot five, two-hundred and fifty pound man in a tiny house. Just no.
Although there’s a part of us, even if a small part of us, that sees the shows produced about tiny homes and documentaries about being able to fit all of your belongings into a suitcase, that wonders if maybe there is something to this whole stuff less kind of life. The tiny home might be a stretch, but materialism is most obviously a large part of our western culture. So much so that we have found ourselves in homes that cater to more closet space than backyard space, credit cards that value indebtedness over on time payments, and a myriad of holidays celebrated more so for the boom in business sales, from clothes to home decor to our children’s entertainment.
When stuff can no longer run us, our society can no longer run.
So we parade around this newfound antidote. GET RID OF IT ALL. Better yet, don’t even give yourself the chance to be tempted and give your chickens a bigger bed than your eight year old. Granted, that’s one way, but if it’s the only way, then forget it. Remember- six foot five.
Although we shouldn’t be so quick to leave the simple life to the the Amish and Portland. Jesus actually had a ton to say about our stuff (and the moola we need to get it).
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.
Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.
And Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, “You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”
The truth of the matter is, stuff absolutely can have a hold on us. A big hold. We can agree on this, yes? The point seems unnecessary to debate, whether you believe or not that Jesus, being God and all, was wise enough to know better, for the minimalist movement is showcasing an urgent need to recognizably fix whatever has gone wrong.
So let’s do this. Let’s make the conversation more about the ‘what’ before determining the ‘now what’. Because honestly, I don’t think getting rid of [all] your stuff is what makes the difference we’re really aching for.
Joy.
I haven’t read the source, so I could be missing the mark on where this methodology is coming from, but there’s a popular technique when it comes to determining the value of an item we can hold in our hands, and that is to ask “Does it spark joy?”
If I were to attach joy to a body part, I would not know how to do it. We use our bodies to express joy, such as singing with our voices or engaging with our brains or running with our legs or painting with our fingers. Yet joy is far too deep to sit at the surface of an appendage. Joy is exuded from our souls. The intangible, yet scientific matter producing, invisible nature of our selves. So to attach joy to an item is like correlating a memory to a finger print. You just can’t. Joy works in the intangible, and can then be expressed in the physical, but only after first being exposed in the soul. So let’s call it for what it is. What in the intangible is the item you hold in your hands producing in the physical, before being so quick to call it joy? Or another way of asking the question; what is this item satisfying? A memory of a loved one, perhaps. A desire for clothing. A yearning for knowledge. A craving for significance. A passion for a gifting. A fear of being without. A greediness for recognition.
Stuff is sneaky like that. Where it parades around like little pieces of joy, even if underneath is rooted in insignificance or discontentment.
Okay so now we have a better idea of stuff’s deceptive ways, and though not immediately guilty, we can be a bit more wary of our belongings and less quick to call it joy.
Just a reminder before we go on. I have stuff. I even like my stuff. I have spent money on stuff. I have needed to rid my closets of stuff. I have ignored boxes of stuff when we have moved. I have held onto stuff in the hopes that I might wear it again, use it again, whatever again.
Okay, just wanted to let you know that I’m still with you, but ultimately here’s what I think about most stuff. Did you see the ‘most’ there? Still okay with stuff over here. Although here’s the thing.
I think it’s a thief.
I think it’s robbed me.
I think it just might be robbing you.
Is your stuff becoming a chore? Then it’s robbing you of time.
Are you working to acquire more stuff? Then it’s robbing you of generosity.
Do you ever use stuff to showcase your economic status? Then it’s robbing you of humility.
Do you have stuff that sits in boxes or in closets unnoticed? Then it’s robbing you of gratitude.
Have you ever had to accommodate for your stuff? Then it’s robbing you of freedom.
Does your stuff make you want more stuff? Then it’s robbing you of contentment.
So if stuff is a thief, and this is all that it steals, then ultimately stuff has given you possessions but has stolen your joy. Your real joy.
There’s the ‘what’. Onto the ‘now what’ and that part is all you.
EXPOSITION: Where are you at with your stuff? A little or a lot, tiny house or closets full, we still need to engage with our stuff because we’re a stuff-filled, consumerism driven society. Stuff requires your intentionality, not your apprehension.
RISE: Here’s an experiment. Hold an item in your hand that you’re debating on whether to keep or ditch. Forget the “Does it spark joy?” question. (Remember, stuff is sneaky, so we’re moving on.) Instead, ask “What is this item satisfying?” This is the ‘up to you’ part. Remember, greed or desire or consumerism can deceptively use our stuff to pose like joy. Look more favorably on the stuff that instead sparks gratitude or contentment or generosity.
DENOUEMENT: “Then he told them this story: “The farm of a certain rich man produced a terrific crop. He talked to himself: ‘What can I do? My barn isn’t big enough for this harvest.’ Then he said, ‘Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I’ll gather in all my grain and goods, and I’ll say to myself, Self, you’ve done well! You’ve got it made and can now retire. Take it easy and have the time of your life!’
“Just then God showed up and said, ‘Fool! Tonight you die. And your barnful of goods—who gets it?’
“That’s what happens when you fill your barn with Self and not with God.”