Wednesday 29 April 2015

Week #8: Give something away

The discipline of simplicity is not strictly about the stuff that we have.  This is one of the main differences between understanding simplicity as a spiritual discipline, and understanding it merely as a process of de-cluttering.  Most of the sites you find on the internet will deal with simplicity through this very narrowly defined dimension.  Simplicity can be found, they argue, through better organizational systems and moor floor-space in the house.  This may do wonders to aid one in cleaning the house, but it has little to do with a spiritual transformation.

The discipline of simplicity is not merely about our stuff.  Living in a wilful attitude of single hearted focus on God and His kingdom changes our focus away from the material side of our life, and tunes us in deeper ways to the things of God.  This allows us to own possessions, yet not be owned by them.  Our material wealth is understood not as something inherently against our spiritual fulfilment, but as a tool through which we can express God’s kingdom in our lives. 

Yet simply seeing the material side of our life as a ‘tool’ for Kingdom living is not enough. We can understand our possessions as tools, yet still feel that we ‘own’ them.  To understand our possessions as belonging to us, as conveying some statement about our ability, worth and status, does little to keep us focused on God’s kingdom.  We must be willing, in radical obedience to the will of God, to release our self-focused hold over our possessions.  The discipline of simplicity, as it relates to the things we own, must be expressed in our willingness to give.

It was this attitude that created the dynamic community of believers that we see in the book of Acts, chapter 4.  “Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common . . .There was not one needy person among them.” (Acts 4:32 & 34)   In our modern day materialistic world we like to dismiss this reality and suggest that the early church really didn't engage in this type of kingdom living.  We assume this is unrealistic, or worse yet, unhealthy.  After all, don’t Ananaias and Sapphira turn their back on this reality in the very next passage? Surely this must speak to the untenable reality of this type of giving!  Yet to truly believe this is to suggest that Jesus didn't understand the fullness of the Kingdom when he said “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” (Luke 3:11)  God’s kingdom is a giving kingdom, and we are invited and encouraged to give.  We give of ourselves, of our time, of our possessions. Jesus calls us to ‘give without expecting return’ (Luke 6:35). 

Giving of what we have, for the purpose of furthering the Kingdom of God, stretches us beyond our comfortable reliance upon the stuff of this world. It breaks the habits of consumption that we may so easily fall into.  In stepping away from the faulty privatized world of ‘ownership’ we enter into an active spirit of trust and reliance.  In stretching ourselves to give, we open ourselves to the reality of God’s provision and the freedom of being led by His Spirit and His will.  We also expose hidden thoughts and presumptions regarding the matters of self-worth, status, acceptance, and value.

So, find something to give.  Avoid relying on the items stored in the back of your closet, or in your basement – items that are easy to give away because you will never miss them.  This is simple de-cluttering, and not actual giving.  It is to give in a manner which avoids any sense of personal cost.  Yet to truly give, to give in the way that God, in Christ, gave to us, we must give of our self; our offering be as heartfelt as it is it tangible.  Maybe give your favourite item of clothing, or your favourite book.  Give away your second television, or a piece of furniture. 


Give in a way that you will feel it and recognize the absence of what you have given.  Pay attention to the emotions that surround your thoughts of giving.  Why are you reluctant to give something?  What does that reluctance say about a possible over-attachment to that item?  Do you experience a sense of inward freedom when you give?

Tuesday 21 April 2015

Week #7: Play ''The Game of Minutes"

Have you ever heard of “The Game of Minutes”?  Do not be alarmed if you haven’t.  It is not well known in our modern day.  This little game was first described in the personal letters of Frank Laubach, letters written to his father while on missionary work in the Philippines.  These letters, eventually published in 1937 under the title ‘Letters by a Modern Mystic,’ described Laubach’s desire to be mindfully focused on the presence of God ‘at least one second of each minute.’  

Do not be thrown off by the use of the word ‘game.’  The language of game is not to suggest triviality.  The game of minutes describes a continuous walk with our Lord.  It is a ‘silent conversation; a ‘practice of the presence of God;’ a ‘familiar friendship with Jesus’; an ‘exhilarating spiritual exercise.’ For Laubach, the game of minutes simply described the manner in which he attempted to hold onto, and follow, the presence and will of God as revealed through the course of the day.   He writes, “my part is to live this hour in continuous inner conversation with God and in perfect responsiveness to His will, to make this hour gloriously rich.’ 

At first glance, we may think the game of minutes is impractical. There are simply too many things before us that demand our attention! We often believe, mistakenly so, that true focus on God must occur in the absence of the regular demands and tasks of the day.  We believe that in order to truly engage in our spiritual lives we must retreat; we have to escape; we must jettison all distractions from our midst.  There is truth to this in some regards.   Jesus often calls us to ‘come away to a quiet place and get some rest.’  It is true that we often find it easier to re-connect with God when we step away from, and put down, the complexities of the world around us.  Yet to take this too far is to believe that it is only through the cloistered life of monks and missionaries that such single-hearted focus is truly achievable.  The game of minutes, and other such spiritual disciplines, are deemed unrealistic to life as it is today.

If we believe this we miss out on cultivating a wonderful closeness with Jesus. The usefulness of Laubach’s game is that it is meant to occur amid everyday existence. Rather than taking us away from the regular spaces of life, playing the game of minutes is a manner by which we attempt to bring Christ into the demands and tasks of the day.  We look for the presence of God around us; we cultivate a conversational relationship with Him; we keep a scripture verse or a prayer in our minds; we view silence as a place to listen to the whispers of God.

Laubach’s game of minutes can be useful in the cultivation of the discipline of simplicity because it wonderfully connects our outward life with our inward meditations.  While we play the game in the context of living our exterior lives, the game itself occurs inwardly.  In our hearts and souls, we attempt to remain in the single-hearted focus which is essential to simplicity.  This game helps us experience the blessedness that comes from choosing to live in closeness with Christ.  It aids us in keeping the Kingdom of God ever before us.

This isn’t to suggest we are able to cultivate a perfect execution of the game of minutes.  Laubach himself states that perfect execution is unachievable.  In a letter dated June 3, 1930, Laubach asks himself the question “Can it be done all the time?” to which he honestly answers, ‘hardly’.  Throughout his letters, Laubach frequently speaks of his own failings.  Perfect execution, however, is never the focus.  “We fix our eyes upon Jesus and not on the clock” Laubach advises.  It is the effort, the longing, the soulful desire for Christ’s presence in our minds that is both liberating and fruitful for our spiritual lives.  The benefit found in playing the game of minutes emerges out of the whole-hearted attempt to draw closer to Christ, and not from achieving a score of 100%.


Don’t like the ‘game of minutes’?  Why not try ‘a game of people’? Try to pray for every person you come in contact with during the day.  Or, how about ‘a game of places’?  Whenever you physically enter a new room or space enter prayerfully, looking, and listening for The Holy Spirit in that place.

Wednesday 15 April 2015

Week #6: Experiment with Simplicity in Speech.

One of the intriguing things we find in Scripture is God's interest in how we speak to one another.  Our Lord is not unconcerned with the words that flow from our hearts and off our lips.  In fact, there is a deep relationship with the words that we speak and that which lies deep in our hearts.  "Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks,' says Jesus (Luke 6:45) As we strive to live our lives in Christ-likeness, the words we speak are to reflect this deep desire.

There are several different ways that one can adopt simplicity in language.  Firstly, one can attempt to reduce the amount of our talking.  We wilfully attempt to avoid adding our words in situations that do not demand it. In her book, Abundant Simplicity, Jan Johnson writes about our culture being one that is 'enslaved to talking.'  This enslavement is not merely about the  amount of talking that occurs, but the constant look for windows in which we can insert our own voice and opinion.  This may occur out of a desire to sway other people to our way of thinking, or because we want others to view us in a certain way.  In either instance, the motivation to speak stems from the desire to control.  We manage situations, conversations, and people through the multiplicity of our words.  This sense of management ultimately divorces us from authentic listening and true connection.

Attempting to reduce our 'talking', while being uncomfortable, allows us to be more fully present with one another, and with the presence of God.  The call to 'be quick to listen and slow to speak' naturally moves us into the spiritual space where we wait for God to reveal His voice and will, before we attempt to exert our own.  The prayer 'not my will but thine be done' equally involves the prayer 'not my voice, but thine be heard.'  Simplicity in speech frees us from the stressful attempt to manage what others think of us.  We remind ourselves that we do not need to know all the answers; we do not need to be in control.  Here we uncover the joy of listening and connecting - we may even be surprised by deep expressions of the Spirit.

Yet simplicity in speech isn't just about the amount of talking we do.  Sometimes simplicity in language is about the type of words we use.  The epistle of James records the need to 'tame the tongue' and 'not speak evil against one another.'  Paul also encourages the people in Ephesus to 'let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up.'   It seems like the childhood lesson of 'if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all' has strong roots. Hurtful language does not build up the kingdom of God.  In gossip, vitriol, and whatever else we may classify as 'evil talk', we vainly attempt to wield a sense of moral and spiritual superiority.  We speak only out of pride and vanity and not out of love or grace.  

Instead of speaking evil to one another, we are challenged in scripture to 'speak as if speaking the very words of God.'  We are called to consciously view our words as gifts that God has blessed us with for the purpose of revealing HIs presence.  We edify, praise, and support.  Our words become testimonies that speak to a life lived in relationship with God, and thus become expressions of the very nature of God's kingdom.

Of course simplicity in speech is not for everyone, nor is it to be practiced all the time.  This is not an excuse to avoid responsibility.  Obviously there are times where we engage in discussion, voice our opinions, and seek to 'explain ourselves' for any number of reasons.  Yet what is important in this is the spiritual motivation behind our decision to reduce our talking.  This isn't a legalistic refusal to speak, but a spiritual action aimed at making us more attune to God's voice.

Monday 6 April 2015

Week # 5: Taking a Technology Free day

One of the gifts I received last Christmas is a smart watch.  It is a watch that will connect wirelessly with my phone.  No longer do I need to take out my phone to view messages, posts, or send simple responses to emails and tags.  I can even download an app which will allow me to pay for my Starbucks drink from my watch-face.  I love this watch.  It is the one I wear most often.

That being said, there is something disturbing with this watch.  As much as I love it, I also recognize that this signifies another manner in which I become increasingly tethered to the technological devices in my life. The buzzing of the watch rips me from restful naps.  It demands my attention during any activity.  While praying (or conducting the Eucharist), it becomes too easy to simply turn the wrist in order to look at the latest notification instead of remaining steadfast in divine conversation.

I'm sure we all have experienced the manner in which technology enforces its control over life.  Whether it is the constant texting during dinner parties, or the intrusion of ring-tones in sacred services. These things happen under the rhetoric of  'availability.'  We buy into the lie that tells us we are to be constantly available to all people at all times.  Of course, the inverse is actually true. In being available to all we become available to none.

Yet the force of technology on our lives extends far more than to just social media and smart-phones, nor is it applicable to merely the younger generation.  We also find it in the pull of the radio and the television.  Is the radio constantly on in our cars?  Do we put the television on as soon as we get home?  Are there 'must watch' programs that define our schedules?

Recently, I was talking with a fellow priest about the spiritual discipline of simplicity and how simplicity helps expose the things that subtly clutter our spiritual lives.  She said she has noticed that she would turn on the television the moment when she returned home.  As someone who lives alone, she recognized that this was about cultivating a sense of sound and activity in her house.  Still, underneath this, she had begun to be challenged to think about how, for her,  having the tv on possibly spoke to an inability to be satisfied in the presence of God.

Does our technology serve as distractions from Godly devotion?  If we are uncomfortable without our modern devices, what does this say about our heeding of Jesus' words to 'seek ye first the kingdom of God'?

I'm not saying we should give up technology.  As I said before, I love my watch - and those who know me know I am committed to computers, smart-phones, and reality television. But what would happen if we were to take a day free from our technology? What if, on one day, we refrained from turning on the television, the radio, and the computer?  What if we shut the phone off? Would we feel cut-off from life? Would we feel insecure?  Would we be consumed with fear that we might 'miss' something important?  After all, who would we be if we hear about the latest Celebrity gossip one day after anyone else?

When we think about a technology free day, we may automatically  start thinking "well it can't be on Sunday because that's when I watch Big Brother Canada!"  Yet this very response proves why taking such a day is so important.  This is what the discipline of simplicity does, it forces us to realize some of the subtle ways we may be overly attached to certain things - things that ultimately end up detracting us from the Kingdom of God.  We take a technology free day not because technology is bad in and of itself, but because in doing without the trappings of modern social devices, we become more present with our Lord.  We uncover things within us, possibly uncomfortable things, that our focus on technology tends to mask.  In such uncovering we then are able to present ourselves, our true, raw, and undistracted selves to our Lord, as we attune ourselves to His presence and listen for His voice.

In previous blogs, I have quoted from Thomas Kelly.  Here as well, his words are useful.  Kelly ends his book "A Testament of Devotion" with these words:  "Life from the Centre is a life of unhurried peace and power.  It is simple. It is serene. It is amazing. It is triumphant.  It is radiant.  It takes no time, but it occupies all our time.  And it makes our life programs new and overcoming.  We need not get frantic; He is at the helm.  And when our little day is done we lie down quietly in peace, for all is well.'

Taking a technology free day helps us remember that our life is not to be run by the devices we own, or the beeps and whistles it produces.  It helps us remember that our life is not to be run by ourselves, in constant striving for social respectability, attention, or clout.  It reminds us that our life is to be centred on God alone, and it is to the notifications of His Spirit that we must respond.