8
8. OUTWARD SIMPLICITY: LONGER STRIDES
To have what we want is riches, but to be able to do without is power.
—George MacDonald
Simplicity is the new necessity of the modern era. Our little planet simply cannot sustain the gluttonous consumption of the wealthy West. Mahatma Gandhi said once that the world has enough for everyone’s need but not for everyone’s greed.
It is not a matter of somehow raising the standard of living of the poor of the world to that of the affluent West. North America and Western Europe comprise 12 percent of the world’s population and account for 60 percent of annual personal consumption. If the rest of the world were to attempt to live on our level of consumption, it is projected that all known world resources of petroleum, tin, zinc, natural gas, lead, copper, tungsten, gold, and mercury would be exhausted in ten years.1 Even if we made a generous allowance for scientific breakthroughs, we still must confess that our planet simply cannot support the overload were the starving masses raised to our level of consumption. Put simply, the earth cannot afford our lifestyle. No, the answer is clear: we must cut back our standard of living if there is ever to be anything approaching a just distribution of the world’s resources.
But that is not all. The imperative of simplicity is further heightened when we couple the call for justice with a compassionate concern for evangelism. Precious lives all over the face of the earth are living without hope. People hungry in heart and weary in spirit are longing for the word of Truth. Two-thirds of the people of this earth have not heard the wonderful news of Christ’s liberating Gospel. Are you not moved with the desire to do more than ever before to reach out to help? This is no time for business as usual. Nearly 2.5 billion people stand culturally outside the reach of a Christian witness. These “hidden peoples” will never be reached through the Church as it now stands, because no Christian is within their cultural sphere of influence. We must find new, creative ways to reach out to the hidden peoples if we ever hope to fulfill Christ’s commission to disciple all nations. Such a task will demand vast outlays of time and resources.
The Covenant that came out of the 1974 International Congress on World Evangelism held in Lausanne, Switzerland, states, “The goal should be, by all available means and at the earliest possible time, that every person will have the opportunity to hear, understand, and receive the good news.” Our hearts resonate with this high and holy goal. But it will never be realized without drastic and sacrificial lifestyle changes. The Covenant continues, “We cannot hope to attain this goal without sacrifice. All of us are shocked by the poverty of millions and disturbed by the injustices which cause it. Those of us who live in affluent circumstances accept our duty to develop a simple life-style in order to contribute more generously to both relief and evangelism.”2
Ecologists and economists shout out to us that simplicity is a new necessity. The great host of hidden peoples shout out to us that simplicity is a new necessity. Will we hear their cry?
The Gift of Giving
Wealth is a dangerous thing. The entire biblical tradition underscores that truth. Therefore, I know that the proposal which I will now make is a risky one, but one which is also deeply rooted in Scripture. There are those who are called to the ministry of money. The gift of giving is a vital and valid spiritual gift, and essential to it is the task of using money for the common good. Jesus told us to make “friends of the mammon of unrighteousness” (Luke 16:9, KJV)—that is, make kingdom use of material goods. It is a much-needed ministry among us.
Simplicity always calls us to a simple lifestyle, but it does not always call us to a reduction in income. God calls some of us to increase our income in order to use it for the good of all.
Again, I emphasize the danger of this ministry. We are dealing with dynamite. Wealth is not for spiritual neophytes; they will be destroyed by it. Only the person who has clean hands and a pure heart can ever hope to handle this “filthy lucre” without contamination. Gluttony, pride, greed, covetousness, and avarice can slip in unawares. This path is fraught with great frustrations and temptations, and those who walk it have to face perplexing decisions and tragic moral choices that most people will never have to consider. In many ways our life will be immensely more complex, though it does not need to be complicated. We will need the prayer and support of the people of God, who must stand by us, counsel us, guide us. We will be living close to hell for the sake of heaven.
The most subtle and dangerous aspect of the ministry of money is the false sense of power it gives. We begin to feel in control. Others begin to seek us out, not because of who we are, but because of what we have. They begin to look to us in spiritually destructive ways. In one important sense money is power: we have the power to determine the future of this project or that cause, and other people know it. Most destructive of all, we know it. Spiritual pride rears its ugly head as the thought seeps in that we are in charge, we call the shots. The degenerative slide continues until a new pseudo-savior has been born.
Only veteran soldiers can take up this work successfully. Only those who have been disciplined under the cross qualify. That is why I waited for this chapter to discuss the ministry of money. This is no beginning step, no easy work. Only one skilled in spiritual warfare should ever attempt it. A person is needed who can receive $50,000 from the hand of God one day, and at the divine prompting give it all away the next. (I did say all of it, not just a tithe.)
I would never ask anyone to take up this important and hazardous ministry without the aid of spiritual guidance. Clement of Alexandria counseled that the wealthy servant of God should never attempt to work out his salvation alone, but rather should seek advice of a spiritual director. I concur wholeheartedly.
Choose someone or some small group with whom you can share intimately, someone wise in the things of the Spirit—a person who is not impressed by money and is able to speak the word of Truth with tenderness. Seek his or her counsel and advice. Share your spiritual goals, including a detailed accounting of your financial goals. Be open, listening, teachable. If he or she detects in you a spirit of possessiveness and shares that with you, do not become defensive. Listen eagerly to these words of life. You desperately need this help. The work you have undertaken puts you in constant spiritual danger. It is entirely possible to become disqualified from this high holy work.
But it is a wonderful work. Immense good can come of it. I think of innumerable servants of Christ who quietly and unpretentiously have been the channel through which huge sums of money have flowed. Released from any need to hold on to or control it, they have been able to freely receive and freely give.
The historically rich building in which I wrote this book was constructed in 1886 as Garfield University. Massive stonework and beautiful turrets give it a castle-like appearance that can be seen for miles around. But in 1897 it was empty and deserted. It was then that James Davis read the advertisement offering the defunct campus for sale, and said to his wife, “Anna, I believe this is our chance to give a college to the world.”3 That is exactly what he did. He bought the magnificent building and then gave it to the Quakers for the development of a Christian university. Think of the thousands of lives that have been enriched simply because one man was free to make kingdom use of material goods! And think of the innumerable places this story can be retold, with a thousand variations, throughout the world, wherever faithful people advance Christ’s kingdom through the ministry of money.
Does it sound to you as if I am speaking only of the wealthy, who out of a vast financial store underwrite great enterprises throughout the world? They have their place, to be sure; but the ministry of money is more often expressed in simpler ways. This work is usually engaged in by ordinary people with limited budgets. The requirement is not great resources, but a humble willingness to be an unhindered channel.
Here is one simple “wineskin” for this ministry. Together the family prayerfully decides on the budget for that year. It is lean, trim, realistic. Provision is made in the budget for retirement and other similar concerns. Included in the budget is a tithe on the budgeted total. Then any money which comes in in excess of that budgeted figure is given in its entirety to kingdom purposes. In this way God can trust us to be an unimpeded conduit. We can be the joyful channel for God’s resources. The money may come through salary or it may come in completely unexpected ways. We will marvel that God is using us, trusting us.
As a young man, John Wesley calculated that £28 a year (about $65) would care for his own needs. Since prices remained basically the same, he was able to keep at that level of expenditure throughout his lifetime. When Wesley first made that decision, his income was £30 a year. In later years sales from his books would often earn him £1,400 a year, but he still lived on £28 and gave the rest away.4 Wesley, of course, was single much of his life and never had children, so he did not deal with the financial problems engendered by a family; but the idea is a sound one. We can do the same thing. Obviously we have to make adjustments for growing children, savings for college, and inflation, but the principle remains firm.
Here is another wineskin. If both spouses in your family desire to work, discipline yourselves to live on one salary and give the other away. In this way, one couple could potentially support an entire missionary family. Why not? What better investment opportunity could there be than that? Think what would happen to the worldwide missionary enterprise if each Christian couple would determine to give every second salary to missions.
Try still another model. Take a careful look at your income. Are there ways to so simplify your lifestyle that you could live on half of what you make? If so, rather than quit your job so that your earnings drop to half, plan to give away half of your earnings.
Here is still another approach. Rather than just giving the money away, invest it for the kingdom of God. It is usually best to set up a separate checking or savings account. Money put into this account is to be used entirely for kingdom causes. Then, as you are led, invest the money in ways consistent with Christian principles. The total earnings are either reinvested or given away. At all times hold firm to the policy that the money, including any and all earnings, belongs entirely to God.
Investments consistent with Christian principles can be a terribly complex matter. I am not just referring to items that are obviously un-Christian. The deeper issues of justice, ecology, and violence must be considered. What about real estate investments that have little regard for a proper stewardship of the earth? What about a company’s tie to the military/industrial complex? What about corporations that have links to repressive and unjust regimes abroad? Some companies oppress the poor, others pollute the environment, and on it goes. As I noted earlier, the ministry of money is fraught with complexity.
The ministry of giving is a good context in which to consider the tithe. While tithing is not a New Testament measure for giving, it can sometimes be a helpful starting point from which to begin giving. In the early days, the Church of the Saviour in Washington, D. C., struggled with the place of the tithe as one of their corporate disciplines. They sought the counsel of theologian Reinhold Niebuhr, who suggested that they commit themselves not to tithing but to “proportionate giving, with tithing as an economic floor beneath which you will not go unless there are some compelling reasons.” As a result, the discipline to which they all now agree reads, “We covenant with Christ and one another to give proportionately beginning with a tithe of our incomes.”5
This approach has one wonderful advantage: it has a minimum discipline which is not intended to become the standard. All members know the starting point, but understand it to be only the beginning of the journey. Individually and corporately they must wrestle with what it means to give proportionately. That is no small issue. Elizabeth O’Connor has stated the difficulty well:
Proportionate to what? Proportionate to the accumulated wealth of one’s family? Proportionate to one’s income and the demands upon it, which vary from family to family? Proportionate to one’s sense of security and to the degree of anxiety with which one lives? Proportionate to the keenness of our awareness of those who suffer? Proportionate to our sense of justice and of God’s ownership for those who follow after us…? The answer, of course, is in proportion to all of these things.6
With all of its difficulties, this grace of giving is a happy ministry. So much good can be done. So many lives can be helped. Stanley Mooneyham tells of his visit to the small village of Singhali, in India, a village suffering from a severe drought that plagued that region. He spoke with one Muslim landowner whose well was nearly dry. Though this man was facing disaster himself, he continued to share his water with Muslims and Christians alike. When Stanley Mooneyham told him that through World Vision’s relief funds his well would be deepened, his speech stopped in mid-sentence, and he stood with mouth open. “No words came,” said Mooneyham, “but his soul spoke richly through the pools which formed in his eyes. With no attempt to wipe them dry, he just stood there and sobbed. He clutched my hand and would not let go. In his eyes I saw the response to love—and his response was love also.”7
The Gift of Service
A simple lifestyle can also open to us vast new areas of service. It becomes possible to cut back our needs drastically so that we can devote time to important tasks. John Woolman cut back his business ventures in order to give attention to a traveling ministry. He said, “A way of life free from much entanglement appeared best for me, though the income might be small.” Though he had several business offers, he refused them all because of the “outward care and cumber” that would divert his energies. Remember, Woolman was not a professional minister in the sense of being free from the concerns of the marketplace in order to preach. He was a businessman, and that was how he earned his living. He simply determined to “live on a little” in order that “nothing might hinder me from the most steady attention to the voice of the true Shepherd.”8
Many do the same today. One professional carpenter I know supports his family by working two days a week. The rest of the week is then devoted to the cause of justice for the poor in the city. A citrus rancher friend of mine sold his ranch at such a profit that he and his wife were able to serve for many years on the mission field without any expense to anyone. (They did this later in their lives, after the children were grown.) Many teachers keep their needs pared down enough so that they do not have to earn money in the summer, and can devote their time to ministry among the poor and needy. Many families engage in extensive weekend ministries at considerable expense to themselves in both time and money. And on it goes.
The possibilities are limitless. Many opportunities open up when we believe they are possible. Some situations do not allow us this flexibility, but many more do than we think will. We are friends with a family who gave this idea a try. The husband is a construction superintendent, and both parents have the normal responsibilities that come with four children. Over a period of time they began to sense the call of God to give help to a Christian project in New Guinea. Prayerfully and tactfully, the husband was able to arrange for a two-month leave of absence. The venture involved a considerable expenditure of their personal money in order for the family to be involved in this two-month ministry. And yet the value for all concerned was enormous—well worth the investment, they told me. They are now listening to God to see if they should involve themselves more extensively in the New Guinea work.
One does not need to go to New Guinea, of course. Free time for service is desperately needed anywhere there are people. Crisis centers, counseling services, hospitals, and a host of other agencies all need our help. The ordinary ministry of local churches could be greatly enhanced if numerous members were free to invest their lives in the work. In one metropolitan city a small fellowship was able to find homes for some 350 homeless children. But to do such things demands a substantial investment of time, and some of us need to find ways to release ourselves. In our day many need to rearrange their lives in specific ways if they hope to engage in the ministry of service.
However, we must not concentrate exclusively upon the financial aspects of service. It is commendable to pare down our needs in order to release time to serve, but Christian simplicity adds another important ingredient. With self-interest rooted out, we have become free to serve as servants. Self-righteous service is banished. We do not have to lord it over others or make them feel indebted to us. Service can be rendered freely and without manipulation. We can joyfully surrender our own rights for the good of others. This is a great liberty in the work of service. It gives us the ability to prefer one another in love.
I would like to give one specific word of counsel in the context of the ministry of service. I think it is important that we find specific ways to serve our neighbors. We need to experience the ministry of small things for those who live near us.
Why would I mention such an insignificant matter? The answer is that it is far from insignificant. To be content with a life of simple goodness among our neighbors demands a total reorientation of values. It involves a whole restructuring of our perspective about what is important in life. Only the grace of simplicity can inform us with that perspective.
To value our neighbor does not put us in the headlines of any publication. It does not give us any advantaged position at work. It is not even valued in many churches, simply because it takes time away from important ministries there. To rake our neighbor’s leaves, to babysit their children, to take the time to visit with them is the stuff of service to our neighbor. But until we learn to live in simplicity, we will find it hard to believe it is an important ministry. John Woolman spoke of being “weaned from the desire of outward greatness.”9 Without that weaning process we will not know simplicity, nor will we find much place in our lives for our neighbors.
The Gift of Sacrifice
There is a need today for what I call prophetic simplicity. We need voices of dissent that point to another way, creative models that take exception to the givens of society. Obviously, prophetic simplicity runs the risk of excess; but the danger is no greater than the excess of the status quo.
Often these dissenting men and women speak to us in hyperbole and exaggeration. We label them hopelessly utopian and idealistic. All the same, we need their word to jar us loose. Our consciences need to be pricked by their sharp barbs. We need to understand the relevance of their impossible ideal.
Prophetic simplicity is often expressed in ways that make many of us uncomfortable: models that are certainly not obligatory upon all Christians at all times. And yet they are not in opposition to the way of Christ either. They become open windows and swinging doors onto new options, new possibilities. They are participants in the ministry of sacrifice.
Our temptation to reject prophetic simplicity out of hand must be held in abeyance. After all, John the Baptist is in the Bible. And although Jesus did not go in much for animal skins and wild honey, that does not mean we shouldn’t. At the word of God Elijah lived by a desert stream for three years, and we may be given a similar call. At the heart of prophetic simplicity is self-renunciation for the cause of Christ.
Some have chosen the single life in order to advance the kingdom of God. In our day many have faulted the Apostle Paul because he urged the unmarried to consider the single life as a genuine option (1 Cor. 7). They miss the profound wisdom in his counsel. Marriage of necessity divides one’s loyalties. To be faithful to the marriage covenant, the husband and wife must concern themselves with a whole host of personal and financial matters. The single person can concentrate with abandon on the advancement of the kingdom of God. Every married person with any kind of sensitivity understands very well that this is the case.
Paul was not against marriage, but he did insist that people should count the cost. No one should enter the covenant of marriage without understanding the immense amount of time and energy involved in making that relationship work. We need to face the fact that we cannot do many of the kinds of things which Paul did and be married.
One of the great tragedies of our day is the number of Christian leaders who have given themselves unselfishly to the cause of Christ, but have destroyed their marriage and their children in the process. And it was all so unnecessary. Many of them simply needed to understand that their sense of call was incompatible with the responsibilities of marriage and that they had to choose the single life. Paul’s caution has the ring of practical wisdom. Jesus himself said that some have become eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of God (Matt. 19:12).
We do people a disservice when we fail to proclaim the single life as a Christian option. Marriage is not for everyone, and we should say so. A single person can venture into forms of simplicity that are closed to the rest of us. By word and deed the Church should encourage these faithful servants of Christ. They should never be looked down upon or viewed as somehow odd. We should do all that we can to be with those who have chosen the single life, because they need our friendship and we need their wisdom.
Others who are married have voluntarily chosen to go without children. To be sure, some have made the decision from purely selfish motives; but others have done so in order to be free to care for the children of the world. I know a couple who have consciously chosen not to have children so that they may have a more effective ministry among teenagers. Their home is open to young and old day and night. Although one night in their home is enough to drive me crazy, I must confess that their ministry is an extraordinarily effective one.
A couple must be in covenant unity with one another in any decision of this nature. This is no place for a husband to try to exercise some kind of “headship” over the wife. Such a decision takes time. The feelings of each spouse must be given full expression. At no time should there be conveyed a sense of spiritual inferiority if children are desired. This is a matter of calling, not spirituality.
Most couples will want and should have children, but again we should know the commitment that entails. We must be prepared to pay the financial and emotional price.
Perhaps some will remonstrate, “I wish that I had counted the cost, but I didn’t. I now have a family, but still feel called to a ministry that does not have time for marriage and family obligations.” I answer that your calling is now to your family. You are to fulfill the covenant made with your spouse. To jump into some kind of ministry that ultimately would be destructive to your marriage is sin. Be content to invest your life in your spouse and your children. If the ministry is important, God will either raise up others to do it, or in his time will arrange your situation so that this work is compatible with your family responsibilities.
Another aspect of the ministry of sacrifice is in the area of Christian fasting. Many have advocated a weekly fast as a means of releasing funds for the world’s hungry. This practice is in every way commendable, but I want here to deal with fasting on a deeper level.
Fasting helps to give us balance. It makes us more keenly sensitive to the whole of life, so that we do not become obsessed with our consumer mentality. It is something of an inner alarm to help us hold our priorities straight, to give us a sense of spiritual sensitivity.
Fasting reveals the things that control us. We cover up what is inside us with food and other good things, but in fasting these things come to the surface. The first truth that was revealed to me in my early experiences in fasting was my lust for good feelings. It is certainly not a bad thing to feel good, but we must be able to bring that feeling to an easy place where it does not control us. So many attitudes strive to control us: anger, pride, fear, hostility, gluttony, avarice. All of these and more will surface as we fast. It is a blessed release to have these things out in the open so that they can be defeated, and we can live with a single eye toward God.
The central idea in fasting is the voluntary denial of an otherwise normal function for the sake of intense spiritual activity. Remember, there is nothing wrong with these normal functions in life—it is simply that there are times when we set them aside in order to concentrate. When we view fasting from this perspective, we can see both its reasonableness and its broader dimensions. For example, there is a great need today to learn to fast from people. Most of us have a tendency to devour others, and usually we get severe heartburn from it. I suggest that we experience times of fasting from people not because we are antisocial, but precisely because we love people intently and when we are with them we want to be able to do them good, and not harm. Thomas Merton said, “It is in deep solitude that I find the gentleness with which I can truly love my brothers…. Solitude and silence teach me to love my brothers for what they are, not what they say.”10
We also need to have times when we fast from the media. It is amazing to me that many people are incapable of going through an entire day concentrating on one thing. Their train of thought is constantly broken by this demand or that interruption. The newspaper, the radio, the television, magazines—everything interrupts their concentration. Some people are so enslaved to television that if it were taken away they would go through withdrawal. Obviously, there is a time for the various media, but there is also time to be without them.
We can also learn to fast from the telephone. This instrument is a wonderful invention, but it controls many people. Some people will stop praying in order to answer the telephone. Can you imagine anything more absurd? I want to let you in on a secret: we do not need to answer that gadget every time it rings. We are not its slave, but its master. When people come to visit us, we should not insult them by interrupting our conversation to answer the telephone. In our home, when we are eating or when I am reading stories to the children, we do not answer the phone. I want my children to know that they are more important than any phone call. People will call back if they genuinely need to reach us.
Earlier I dealt with voluntary poverty, but I now would like to take up one further aspect of it—namely, communalism. Communalism is nothing more than the renunciation of private ownership for the sake of the wider community.
Throughout history, utopian movements have arisen and disappeared in the same way that many ruthless competitive societies have arisen and disappeared. Permanence is not an important criterion; faithfulness is. Many have attempted communal living and found it terribly complicated; others have found it liberating. As a prophetic model for our day it probably allows for the simplest standard of living. Goods that would normally serve one nuclear family can now accommodate perhaps two dozen people.
Although communal approaches to life have existed for many centuries—the most notable being the Roman Catholic monasteries—there has been a recent surge of interest by Christian groups in this expression of faithfulness. A few of the better-known examples include the Word of God community in Ann Arbor, Michigan; Reba Place Fellowship in Chicago, Illinois; and the Church of the Redeemer in Houston, Texas. The reasons for this revival of interest are not hard to discover. The feelings of alienation and loneliness, the concern for ecological responsibility, the desire for a just distribution of the world’s resources, and the joyful freedom to share resulting from the charismatic renewal are a few of the causes. We should also recognize that the size and shape of the nuclear family makes communal arrangements more feasible and desirable. It was not so many years ago that large extended families were commonplace. When you have parents with half a dozen children combined with grandparents and another extra person or two thrown in, you have a community of considerable size and complexity. Today’s family of three or four often gains a great deal from sharing with others.
Communal arrangements have many difficulties: how to provide for privacy, how to handle money matters, how to discipline children, and so on. And although communalism has a great deal of historical precedence, there is not much biblical basis for it. Perhaps the greatest value of the Christian commune is its symbolic importance. Quietly, it questions society’s affluence and points to another way.
Identification with the Poor
Another way in which simplicity takes outward shape is through conscious identification with the poor and forgotten. Jesus Christ practiced such identification repeatedly, and so must we. The exact expression of our identification will have infinite variety, but there is no doubt that we ought to engage in this loving work.
Many of us need to champion the cause of the oppressed, witness to their misery, and call for justice. We are to plead their cause before the powerful. The Christian is to be the voice of the voiceless, the face of the faceless, before authorities. Is this not precisely what Moses did before Pharaoh? When we represent the poor before the powerful, we are ambassadors of Christ. Quakers on the American frontier would often attend treaty negotiations between the federal government and the Indian tribes in order to plead for justice. Jacques Ellul says, “I hold that in every situation of injustice and oppression, the Christian—who cannot deal with it by violence—must make himself completely a part of it as representative of the victims.”11
But a warning is needed here. The Christian must advocate the cause of those who are truly poor and forgotten. So often it seems as if Christians have a particular knack for joining causes that are nearly over and championing issues that have thousands of champions. We must go beyond newspaper accounts (in fact, newspapers are usually a hindrance in this work) to find the genuinely dispossessed. If we desire to identify with the poor, we will be concerned to be informed—really informed. Ellul reminds us that Christians “must be so concerned about human misery that they take pains to discover the really lost before it is too late.”12
This is a thankless ministry. We are seeking to be led by the Holy Spirit to the truly abandoned and defenseless. We will be defending the cause of people who are not politically “interesting.” We will be bringing before mayors and city council members issues that all others would like to sweep under the rug. We will be making people uncomfortable over matters they deem “trivial.” But that is what is asked of us if we are to identify with the genuinely poor and forgotten.
Another way we identify with the poor is to be among them. There are some who are led to take this up as a vocation: living among the poor, suffering with the poor, praying for the poor. Albert Schweitzer lived this vocation in Africa, as did Toyohiko Kagawa in Japan.
Many of us, however, will be called to be among the abandoned of the earth in less dramatic ways. We will respond to divine promptings to visit prisons and hospitals, rest homes and mental institutions. We will tutor little ones deprived of basic skills. We will take time to play with the child down the street that sits on the curb alone.
Our children need to join us in this ministry of identification. We do them no favor by shielding them from suffering and need. If we imprison them in ghettos of affluence, how can they learn compassion for the broken of the world? So let us walk hand in hand with our children into pockets of misery and suffering.
One specific means of identification with the poor is discovered in our approach to education. Do we see a college education, for example, as a ticket to privilege or as a training for service to the needy? What do we teach our teenagers in this matter? Do we urge them to enter college because it will better equip them to serve? Or do we try to bribe them with promises of future status and salary increases? No wonder they graduate more deeply concerned about their standard of living than about suffering humanity.
As we seek to follow in the steps of Jesus, we will be drawn to identify with the poor. As we do, perhaps a valuable question to keep before us is whether we are as willing to evaluate our living standards by the needs of the poor as we are by the lifestyle of our neighbors.
Reachable Handles
It is entirely possible that you have found this chapter extremely frustrating, maybe even irrelevant. Grand ideas of giving and serving, celibacy and communal living, have left you in the dust. You are not certain that you desire those things, let alone would be able to do them. I too have felt, and do feel, the same way.
We must not despair that we are still in the foothills. The heights are seldom scaled in a single bound. And so I close this chapter with some practical handles that are within reach of us all.
First, develop a habit of plain, honest speech. Strike “I am starved” from your speaking vocabulary. It is not true and obscures the fact that many indeed are starving. When you are hungry say that you are hungry and reserve the word “starvation” for the real thing. Make honesty and integrity the distinguishing characteristics of your speech. Reject jargon and abstract speculation, the purpose of which is to obscure and impress rather than to illuminate and inform.
We have simplicity of speech when our words come from only one Source. Søren Kierkegaard wrote, “If thou art absolutely obedient to God, then there is not ambiguity in thee and…thou art mere simplicity before God…. One thing there is which all Satan’s cunning and all the snares of temptation cannot take by surprise, and that is simplicity.”13
Second, write out a money autobiography.* Consider the place of money in your childhood. What view of money did your parents have? Did you feel deprived or privileged? How are those influences affecting you today?
Consider your changing attitudes toward money over the years. What influences have effected the change? Have the changes been good or detrimental?
Consider your own feelings. Are you fearful of the future? Is money a source of security to you? Do you feel guilty about the money you spend?
Consider your personality. Are you a “nothing ventured nothing gained” person or a “better safe than sorry” person? How does that influence your approach to money?
Third, find new, creative ways to get in touch with the earth. Revel in the infinite variety of colors around you. Listen to the birds—they are God’s messengers. Walk whenever you can. Enjoy the texture of grass and leaves. Grow flowers or plant trees and discover once again that “the earth is the LORD’s and the fullness thereof” (Ps. 24:1).
Fourth, learn to enjoy things without owning them. Possession is an obsession in our culture. If we own a thing, we feel that we can control it; and if we control it, we feel that it will give us more pleasure. The idea is an illusion. Many things in life can be enjoyed without possessing or controlling them. We gain great benefit from “common ownership” of many things: schools, public buildings, parks, rivers, public beaches, roads. Let’s learn to enjoy the beauty of the beach without the compulsion to buy a piece of it. Many things can be shared among neighbors or friends. Some cultures even have common ownership of land. Many agricultural kibbutzim of Israel are successful and efficiently run. Give some things away just for the freedom it brings.
Fifth, develop the habit of homemade celebrations. There is an infinite variety of things you can do—activities that are great fun and that draw you closer together. Talk to each other; even little ones can tell the most entertaining stories if we will listen. Read books out loud to each other. Such times together make the entertainment extravaganzas of modern society seem cheap and hollow by comparison, and they are.
Invite neighbors and other lonely folk to join you—they won’t bite! And please, do not make such a fuss over having guests in that you drop exhausted at the end of the evening and determine never to do that again. How can you enjoy people if you are always trying to impress them? Genuine hospitality is more simple, more relaxed.
Sixth, teach your children by word and deed about the varied aspects of simplicity, including the use of money. In regard to expenditures, draw clear, hard lines beyond which you will not go. Our culture is training children to desire everything in sight when they enter a store. You do them no favor when you give in to their incessant demands. You must protect them, tenderly, firmly. Spoiled children need discipline, not pampering. It is a terrible disservice to fail to set explicit limits. Get your kids what they need, not what they want; and in time they will come to want what they need.
Provide your children the experience of a growing self-government. Our children received an allowance in order to give them the experience of managing money. (For most of their growing-up years, we paid twice their age—for example, when six and nine, the six-year-old received 12 cents per day, the nine-year-old 18 cents per day.) But they had to work for that money. They lost 5 cents for every job left undone, though they could not go below zero. We also decided that it was important for the boys to have jobs they did because they were a part of the family and for which there was no pay. Each child had three banks—one for spending, one for saving, one for giving away. They were required to save 10 percent and give away 10 percent: the rest we decided together how to spend. At early ages I paid for their necessities; they paid for their luxuries. In time we hiked up their allowance and went in half with them on necessities; eventually they paid for everything themselves. As we worked to give them a growing self-government, by the age of sixteen each boy managed all his own income and expenses, except for housing and food. By the time they were eighteen, for the most part they had enough counsel and experience to make wise and responsible use of money. (And we, by and large, were wise enough to keep our hands off their decisions, refraining even from giving advice unless it was sought.)
While the above arrangement was workable, it wasn’t perfect. Time and again we fought over what was a luxury and what was a necessity. We made many mistakes, but our desire was to help our children grow in their understanding of money and its proper use.
Seventh, seek to obey the counsel of John Woolman, “Silence every motion proceeding from the love of money.”14 The love of money is a tricky thing—often those who have the least money love it the most. Watch for that rise within that signals danger. When it comes, be still in the power of God until it is defeated. Do not try to argue down the desire; be silent and quiet. Allow the ocean of love and light to overcome the ocean of greed and fear. If you remain hushed and calm in the grip of Christ, you will discover the good rising and the evil receding.
In attempting to hammer out the outward expression of simplicity, we are undertaking no small task. It will be easy to make mistakes in both restraint and excess. Perhaps the counsel of William Penn will help us to cut back our margin of error: “Frugality is good if Liberality be join’d with it. The first is leaving off superfluous Expenses; the last bestowing them to the Benefit of others that need.”15