A middle-income man from the U.S. traveled to a rural village in Africa. While visiting a family in their makeshift shelter, he said, “I’m sorry you have so little.” The mother replied, “I’m sorry you have so much. It must be difficult to focus on God.”
This modern parable points to what I believe is one of the greatest spiritual obstacles in the Western world: distraction. More specifically, we’re prone to distract ourselves by accumulating more than we need.
The average American home has over 300,000 items.
The U.S. has as many self-storage facilities as Starbucks, McDonald’s, and Dunkin’ locations combined.
The average American home has nearly tripled in size over the past 50 years. Yet one in four people with a two-car garage can’t park in it because it’s too full of stuff.
Our hunger for “more” goes far beyond material goods. More than half of Americans (52 percent) said they’re usually trying to do two or more things at once. When we’re not busy working, we’re spending, on average, nearly 2.5 hours a day on social media. We know this is often less for connection, as we’re promised, and more for accumulating hits of dopamine.
Our closets, calendars, and credit cards shout a singular message: More.
The temptation to accumulate is nothing new. About a quarter of Jesus’ parables deal with money, wealth, or material stewardship. He knows our hearts are bent toward gathering more than we need, which is why many of his teachings are strong warnings around materialism, like: “Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15).
Perhaps Jesus constantly warned us that “no one can serve two masters” (Matthew 6:24) because it’s the first temptation he saw us fall for in Eden.
What’s driving us away from Eden
Something that sets us apart from animals is that God created them to be ruled by their desires. If a lion is hungry, it can’t help but chase what it craves. As God’s image bearers, our desires don’t have to rule over us. We can control what we chase.
Everything created by God is good. But good gifts become terrible gods when our hunger for them surpasses our desire for Jesus. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, “Earthly goods are given to be used, not to be collected.” When we collect more than we need, we place creation on the throne of the Creator.
The Fall was a result of Adam and Eve ignoring their limits to indulge every ounce of their desires. Ever since then, we’ve lusted after more and distracted ourselves from God’s best.
When the Israelites gathered more manna than they needed, they found it rotten with worms (Exodus 16:20).
When the prodigal son demanded his inheritance, he ended up dining with pigs (Luke 15).
When the wealthy man built barns to store his excess, Jesus called him a fool who would die that night (Luke 12:16-21).
Scripture is the long story of humans chasing more than we need, only to have God rescue us from the disasters created by uncontrolled desires. Our accumulation wounds us and leads us away from the abundant life Jesus promises. God’s continual rescue and provision prove that he is all we need.
Reclaiming a lost spiritual discipline
A.W. Tozer said, “The man who has God for his treasure has all things in One.”
But how do you and I make God our treasure?
One way is to practice the lost spiritual discipline of simplicity.
Simplicity goes beyond an aesthetic trend popularized by minimalists and modern architects.. It’s a posture of the heart that prioritizes God above His gifts. As Richard Foster puts it, “Simplicity is an inward reality that results in an outward lifestyle.”
What you accumulate is a mirror of what your heart desires the most.
Maybe you…
Find yourself planning your next vacation while still on vacation.
Have a growing list of cosmetic changes you want to make to your house.
Get more excited about packages arriving than actually using what’s in them.
Experience dopamine from just the anticipation of checking your phone.
Think more about your list of restaurants to try than your list of people to pray for.
If these apply to you, these are all indicators that you need to practice simplicity.
In a culture that encourages and celebrates accumulation, simplicity calls us to resist these pressures so that we can trust in God’s provision and find contentment in Him alone. Self-restraint opens us up to trust in God’s sufficiency.
The practice of simplicity is an invitation to reduce the clutter from your mind and material life. It paves a path for undivided devotion to God. The beauty of simplicity is that the benefit goes beyond yourself. Since you’re less attached to possessions, you’re able to be more generous, knowing that everything you own is a gift from God.
A common danger in the Western Church is that many of us have come to believe that God cares most about our tithe. But God cares as much about how we steward what we don’t give as what we do. And when you’re not enslaved to stuff, you’re free to give in abundance.
Content in Christ
“Godliness with contentment is great gain. For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content” (1 Timothy 6:6-8).
Contentment with God’s daily bread offers the world a glimpse of the hope found in Jesus. This is a life not consumed by comparison and consumerism but where peace and generosity replace envy and greed. It’s a life that’s no longer a slave to stuff and, instead, free to love.
I’m still learning how to simplify my life for undivided devotion to God, but here are a few practices helping me:
I don’t shop for new clothes. I only receive them as gifts, thrift, or from friends who are donating.
I have all notifications turned off on my phone.
I don’t have email (or Slack) on my phone.
I limit my social media use. I use Strava and Goodreads to support my two main hobbies, running and reading, and LinkedIn for work.
I don’t make plans on Sunday. The Sabbath is a 24-hour opportunity to practice simplicity. For me, this looks like attending church and having dinner with the same 10 people in the neighborhood. Besides those two commitments, I make no plans other than stopping, resting, and delighting in the Lord. An empty calendar can be an offering of thanks to God.
Like any other spiritual discipline, simplicity is a means to a greater end: a deeper love of God and people. St. Augustine once said, “God is always trying to give good things to us, but our hands are too full to receive them.”
I pray that we would open our hands and loosen our grip on stuff to be more receptive to God’s best for us. Because when we have less, we’re better positioned to receive the greatest good: more of Him.
Questions for Reflection:
Where in my life do I feel the pull for more?
Is God inviting me to say “no” to unnecessary busyness or consumption?
How can I practice greater generosity?
In what ways do I see God providing enough for me right now?
Scripture References