I’d like to think of simplicity as the antithesis of tyranny, tyranny of self-consumption, tyranny of materialism, tyranny of concern for pleasing people. Where there is simplicity, one need not worry about the deceit of words, for language would be used without manipulative intent. Where there is simplicity, bother over the accumulation of things dissipates and contentedness grows in its place. Where there is simplicity, there’s no need to spend effort trying to evoke good impressions of ourselves in the eyes of others, because we’d actually be conforming to goodness in our lives and not only in appearances.
Henry David Thoreau had something right. He recognized the meaninglessness of so many of the things his contemporaries viewed as important. They fought after them, adored them, and allowed their lives to revolve around these empirical constructions. I think we tend to do the same thing today, with our iPods, our skyscrapers, our schedules, our church services, and even our philosophy and views of God.
The other day, Mark and I went to a little creek bed where we tried to catch this gross looking fish. Walking back to campus barefoot and muddy, I noticed something as we entered chapel. The chapel here at Cedarville is huge, with a giant screen boasting big digitally produced words, the stage surrounded by complex lighting setups, and the band eliciting electronically modified sounds, all with the purpose of producing a state which encourages worship. It was expansive and grand, but then walking back to my dorm tonight, I looked up.
Stars.
The glory of God was just as clear in the muddy creek of that morning and the black sky filled with twinkling specks of illumination than I’ve ever seen it in our humanly constructed feats of architecture and technology. We complicate life. Our schedules are full, and lives consumed with work – sometimes I think we don’t trust God anymore.
Think about the Sabbath for a minute. God asks us to take one seventh of our time and use it to honor him. He wants us to play. He loves to watch us interact with his creation, with nature, with one another, to hang out with people, to talk, because it’s a reflection of His character. Yet most of the time, I allow work to take priority over play, over setting aside a day for my Lord. It shows my lack of trust.
When we work all the time, when we fill out schedules full and fail to see the beauty of simplicity, its representative of a lack of trust that God is good. He created and planned the rhythms of life where one-seventh of our time should be spent in reflection of him. It shows a lack of trust in understanding that his plans are better than ours when we fail to adhere to those rhythms.
Sometimes I allow my thoughts about the complexity of God, His work through the person of Jesus, His perfect unity with the Spirit, and forget to recognize the simplicity of the message of the gospel and the commands as to how we are suppose to live as his children.
Kids remind me that the gospel is clear even to the most simple minded, because they understand it. They understand that we’ve sinned, that God loves us, that He sent His Son Jesus to die for us, that He rose again, and that He offers us a chance to be a part of His family. I forget that the entirety of the law can be summarized on one short phrase, “…love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind… and love your neighbor as yourself.”
It’s one of my biggest temptations not to spend time pursuing joy and peace. There is virtue in responsibility and hard work, but overwhelming life with things will only lead to a lack of fulfillment, because it goes against what the Lord tells us.
So go climb a tree. Enjoy creation. Be thankful for something stupidly small. Have a conversation with someone face to face, lest we forget how. Remember that God’s presence is clear not only in the emotional and ostentatious, but in the commonalities and the routines of life. I continue to learn that God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him. Take time to be satisfied.
