Opinion: Perspectives from readers

Over the years, many people have expressed to me an intention to simplify their lives. In nearly every case, those intentions appeared to be grounded in either a litany of “shoulds” or a reluctant resignation to making a sacrifice. In my experience, neither impetus is sustainable.

Guilt has always struck me as a useless emotion. It does nothing to help the person or situation we’re feeling guilty about, and it makes us feel miserable. Acting proactively to preclude guilt benefits others and avoids misery for the one who acts.

When I hear someone say “should,” I flinch, sensing that the words that follow evince a reluctance in that person’s spirit for the action being considered. In most cases, either dithering postpones the action or a withering spirit saps the verve of the well-intentioned soul. In both instances, a long-term sustainability is lacking.

When I speak to groups about downward mobility, someone usually commends me for my willingness to sacrifice. Once again, I flinch. It’s no sacrifice to eschew something you never wanted in the first place. Unless one’s heart embraces a simpler lifestyle, it will not be sustainable. And unless we’re religious flagellants, our hearts won’t desire simplicity as long as we consider it a sacrifice.

On occasion, I sense a willingness by some to engage in temporary sacrifice to buy time, e.g., to ride a bicycle until a “smart,” clean car is invented. I put no faith in technological fixes, since each new technology ratchets up global wealth disparities and is nearly always less environmentally sustainable than the one it replaced. “Smart” devices usually result in increased use of the item by its owners, who now feel less guilt over using it, thus canceling out any anticipated environmental improvement.

The environment, after all, is God’s creation, and I observe two distinct worldviews regarding it. One says, God’s creation is awesome, and with a little ingenuity, our technologies can make it even better. The other worldview says, God’s creation is awesome, and our attempts to alter it to our liking are not likely to result in improvements, so we’d best use our ingenuity to learn how to adapt to nature rather than attempting to adapt nature to our desires. I ascribe to the latter mindset and try to take my cues about how to live from Jesus’ lifestyle.

My faith tells me that Jesus had the capacity to choose any lot in life he wished. He could have chosen to be wealthy and magnanimously bestow his riches on others. He didn’t. Fully conscious of his endless options, Jesus chose to be homeless, poor and unencumbered by the power trappings of the culture he so roundly rejected. And he beckons us to join him, not as bystanders but as members of a band of outcasts. It’s as if Jesus implores us to viscerally experience with him the benefits of voluntary poverty.

His words of invitation and opportunity to those he encountered were, “Follow me,” not, “Worship me” or, “Put me on a pedestal”—a polite way to dismiss his behavior as hopelessly inimitable. None of us is capable of being completely like Jesus, but his exhortation to “follow me” encourages us to do our best and come as close as we can, asking for God’s grace and guidance to augment our efforts.

Jesus wants the best for his followers, not the inferior, soul-eroding best that our culture panders. He wants us to have a lean and robust faith, not the flabby faith and vacuous values of a superficial life. The path that Jesus modeled for us is not a hair shirt of misery. He embraced voluntary poverty because he knew it to be the best sustenance for a healthy soul. When something is best, it’s no sacrifice to embrace it, and no “shoulds” are needed to prompt us to the task.

So, in pursuit of communion with Jesus in his life of voluntary poverty, I’ve come up with a high-maintenance disciple’s confessional prayer to try to keep me on the Christian path. I share it here in hopes it might be of use to any others who seek a similar journey.

Dear Lord, Great Spirit of Goodness and Love, I admit to being a drain on your patience. Please gift me with discernment to clearly know your will, desire to partner with you to implement your will and discipline not to be diverted or distracted.

Please transform my self-absorbed existence and remake me into a vibrant conduit of your goodness and love, free from spiritual plaque, selfish concerns and material encumbrances.

Finally, Lord, when my days on this earth are over, please inspire me to have lived a meaningful life centered on things that really matter rather than the baubles of our self-indulgent, secular culture, so I may exit this life with a minimum of regrets. Amen.

Chuck Hosking attends Albuquerque (N.M.) Mennonite Church.