Epilogue
EPILOGUE: THE SIMPLICITY OF SIMPLICITY
At the beginning of this book I underscored the complexity of our task. There simply are no easy answers to the tough questions of how we are to relate with integrity to the modern world. The difficulty of our task is evident enough on the personal level, but the moment we begin to deal with the broader issues of church and state and international relations, we are staggered by the immense complexity of simplicity.
It is essential for us to be confronted by this reality if we are to escape superficiality. But there is a danger in understanding the intricacies of these issues. Once we begin to see the complexity of it all, we can become overwhelmed. We despair of ever being able to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. We find ourselves struggling on the personal level with our dishonest speech and obsessive status-seeking and compulsive extravagance—not to mention the complex matters of economics and global hunger and international trade. It is easy to become immobilized by the enormity of our task. Discouragement and then despair can set in all too quickly. Without anyone noticing, we quietly resign ourselves to the status quo: “I can’t change the world and I’m not even sure I can (or want) to change my own lifestyle, so I’d better leave things as they are. Nothing ventured, nothing lost!”
But it is exactly at that point that we are tragically mistaken. We have a great deal to lose! Simplicity is part and parcel of our call to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. It is not an “extra” that we can tack on to our Christian experience as we add a tape deck to a new car. It is an essential part of the Classical Disciplines of the Christian life. Simplicity is essential in the way that an engine or wheels or brakes are essential to an automobile; without them there is no functional automobile. Simplicity is essential in the way that prayer and worship or any of the Spiritual Disciplines are essential; without them there is no functional disciple of Christ.
The Spiritual Disciplines (of which simplicity is a vital part) are the conduit through which our obedience flows; they are visible ways by which we express our discipleship. And more importantly, they set us before God in such a way that we can be transformed and conformed to the way of Christ. William Penn said, “To be like Christ, then, is to be a Christian,” which is precisely why simplicity is such an important part of Christian devotion. Nothing is more clear than that Jesus Christ walked in a well-nigh amazing simplicity of life. He was centered in God and had a transparency toward God that ordered everything. Simplicity is part of what it means to be a follower of Christ.
To be sure, the cost of simplicity is great, but the cost of duplicity is greater. Duplicity costs the joyful communion with the divine Center, faith that sees everything in the light of God’s governance for good, abiding peace, and the ability to walk cheerfully over the face of the earth in the power of the Lord. In short, it costs the abundant life Jesus said he came to bring. Simplicity may be difficult, but the alternative is immensely more difficult.
The joyful paradox in all this is that while simplicity is complex, it is also simple. In the final analysis we are not the ones who have to untangle all the intricacies of our complex world. There are not many things we have to keep in mind—in fact, only one: to be attentive to the voice of the true Shepherd. There are not many decisions we have to make—in fact, only one: to seek first his kingdom and his righteousness. There are not many tasks we have to do—in fact, only one: to obey him in all things. As Søren Kierkegaard understood so clearly, we are honed down to only one thing, and that is the simplicity of simplicity.
This is why the inward reality of holy obedience to the divine Center is so central to everything about simplicity. Without that we will become frustrated and stymied by the complexity of it all. With it life is ordered and filled with peace. The only thing we have to do is be, at every moment, attentive to the heavenly Monitor. And as we are, there come welling up whispers of divine guidance and love that make life radiant.
Jesus invited people to share his yoke, adding that his yoke was easy and his burden was light. A horse or ox is trained to work peaceably and well by being yoked or harnessed to an animal already trained. At first the untrained animal may chafe under the yoke, and try to bolt away. So long as he does, the yoke will be a heavy burden indeed. But as he learns to walk step by step with the trained animal, he learns to walk with ease.
We too are yoked to One who is trained. Our only task is to keep in step with him. He chooses the direction and leads the way. As we walk step by step with him, we soon discover that we have lost the crushing burden of needing to take care of ourselves and get our own way, and we discover that the burden is indeed light. We come into the joyful, simple life of hearing and obeying.