It’s January, less than a week into a new year – a new decade, in fact. A time of year traditionally filled with dieting and exercising, wardrobe clear-outs, trips to the op-shop… decluttering and downsizing in every way imaginable.
We all relate to this urge to “start afresh” with each new year, to embark on a decluttering frenzy that lets us shed ourselves of everything unnecessary in our lives. To rid ourselves of all those things we accumulated over the past twelve months, things that we thought would bring us happiness, but which only ended up taking up space and weighing us down (sometimes quite literally, hence the dieting and exercising). So we sign up to programs that promise a better way – a lighter, less encumbered way. We try and Marie Kondo our way into “sparking joy” in our heart, in a way that all those possessions and all that decadent living never quite seemed to achieve.
The man who couldn’t declutter
In the Gospel of Mark, we hear a similar kind of story about a man who had it all, but was searching for something deeper. He came to Jesus and asked him what he could do. He already did all the right things, he said, he’d followed the Ten Commandments ever since he was a boy! But even though this man insists he’s done all that’s required of him, his questioning of Jesus seems to indicate that there’s still some burden weighing him down; some feeling that he’s not quite getting it.
Jesus’ response to him confirms his suspicion – but not in the way he’d hoped:
Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.Mark 10:21-22 (NIV)
Sell everything you have. Wow.
I hate to say it, but I think I would have “gone away sad”, too.
It’s hard to let go of our attachment to the things of this world. Whether it’s too much food or drink, or buying possessions we don’t really need – we’ve become addicts to consumerism, to being able to have what we want, when we want it.
And when the voice of Christ whispers in our ears gently saying – give this away! Come, follow me! – we become sad, and afraid, because letting go of our creature comforts can honestly be very, very scary. Even when we know they are weighing us down; even when we know they are simply taking up space in our lives, or sometimes even harming us.
Letting go of our attachment
Better one handful with tranquillityEcclesiastes 4:6
than two handfuls with toil
and chasing after the wind.
Let’s use this opportunity of the New Year for a decluttering of our cupboards, firstly, but also a decluttering that goes right down into our souls.
Let’s give away those belongings we don’t need, yes, but let’s also let go of our attachment to such things.
Instead of making space in our homes only to spend the next twelve months filling it up again with more of the same, let’s make an effort to turn to Christ for that sense of comfort, of fulfilment, of peace and purpose that we’re all searching for so desperately.
Whatever it is that you’ve filled your cupboards and your heart with that’s weighing you down and keeping you from following Jesus, give yourself permission to set it aside. It’s scary, I know… but it will be worth it.
- Head or heart? Faith has room for both
- Where do I belong? The search for purpose and place
- God is with us — before, beside, and behind