So it’s actually
Day 12 of Month 2, Possessions Month, but it’s been crazy hectic at school the
past couple of weeks and I haven’t had time to post!
So this is a thing that happened in the past two weeks. I was blessed to join the most amazing sisterhood on campus! I am so thankful for my sisters in Zeta Tau Alpha! |
However, I digress. Okay I’ll admit it. I pre-hoarded items to give away during Possessions Month before
I even officially started 7. But I do have a pretty good case:
1.
Possessions
Month falls in September, right when I get back to college, and I only take to
college what I absolutely cannot live without. There’s barely room for a bed in
that dorm room, much less a college-aged girl and all of her clothes. (You
really should see those closets. They give “microscopic” a whole new meaning.)
2.
It
wouldn’t be very feasible to have to come back home and clean out 210 items
from my room to give away while I am working toward my (very expensive) college
degree. (And while I’m supposed to be studying, of course.)
3.
It
is currently summer and I have nothing else to do.
4.
Therefore,
I decided to go on a major cleaning spree in July to prepare for Possessions
Month.
If
this goes against the rules of 7, then indict me. I’m guilty. I’ve failed. But the
way I see it, as long as someone who needs the things that I rarely use gets
them, then the point of this experiment is still perfectly intact.
So far, I have cleaned out my (very
large) clothes closet, from which I extricated 94 articles of clothing, and my
dresser, from which I took 68 articles. I’ve only been cleaning for two days,
and I already have 162 items to give away. Needless to say, this is a lot
easier than I thought it was going to be. When I thought about giving away 7
possessions every day for a month, I imagined that at the end of the month I
would be laying on my bare bedroom floor with nothing but the clothes on my
back to call my own.
The funny thing is, I have A LOT
more stuff than I thought that I did. And when I say stuff, that’s all that it
is! STUFF! Meaningless things that lay around, cluttering up my room and
closets, never to be used. I’d never really thought about that “stuff” before I
read 7. And if I had, my thoughts would have ran something along the lines of: So
what if I have two closets full of things that I rarely wear or use? Who
doesn’t?
Who doesn’t?
And there is the real question that
I—and I dare say ALL American Christians—should be asking. Who doesn’t have the
things that they need to live from day to day? Who doesn’t have a spare pair of
jeans to wear? Or a pair of jeans at all? What little girl goes to school
wishing she had a pretty outfit like the other little girls? What woman wishes
she had a bag to carry the few things that she owns in? When most of the
American church has TEN spare pairs of jeans. TEN pretty outfits they can’t
wear anymore. TEN designer handbags that sit in the back of their closets.
What is wrong with this picture? I’d
like to think, in my naivety, that it’s simply because the American church does
not know the people who need these things. Shane Claiborne, author of “The
Irresistible Revolution,” puts it this way:
"I had come to see that the great tragedy within the church is not that rich Christians do not care about the poor but that rich Christians do not know the poor... I long for the Calcutta slums to meet the Chicago suburbs, for lepers to meet landowners and for each to see God's image in the other... I truly believe that when the poor meet the rich, riches will have no meaning. And when the rich meet the poor, we will see poverty come to an end."
"I had come to see that the great tragedy within the church is not that rich Christians do not care about the poor but that rich Christians do not know the poor... I long for the Calcutta slums to meet the Chicago suburbs, for lepers to meet landowners and for each to see God's image in the other... I truly believe that when the poor meet the rich, riches will have no meaning. And when the rich meet the poor, we will see poverty come to an end."
Sounds
ideal, right? If we knew the people
who were poor, I’d like to believe that we’d be more than willing to help them,
to share our excess with them. So why aren’t we doing just that? The problem is
that we surround ourselves with people like us. We sit on our rung of the
ladder of success and look up: Look at that new house they bought—we could
never afford that. Did you hear about the vacation they took this year? That
must be nice. Did you know that he bought himself a new car? I wish we were
fortunate enough to be able to do that.
And there we are, sitting on the top
1% of that ladder with all of the other people who are “so much more fortunate
than us” and we want more! We have everything we could ever need, and yet we
crave more! We are so fixated on the top rung of that ladder (which can never
be reached, by the way) that we never stop and look down. And why should we? The people at the bottom can in no way help
us reach our American Dream.
But isn’t that what Jesus was so
focused on in His earthly ministry? “The last shall be first.” “The poor shall
inherit the kingdom of heaven.” “Whatever you do unto the least of these you do
unto me.” Sound familiar? It was only the driving force behind all that Jesus
said and did. And as the American Church at large, I believe that we’re missing
the boat. The problem isn’t that we’re not willing (or at least I would like to
think so). The problem is that we’re being lazy
(how hard is it to pick up the phone and call a local school guidance counselor
and ask if there are any children who need clothes?). We’re being content where
we are—why not form relationships with homeless men and women and get to know
what their needs are? We’re not being the hands and the feet of Christ… and if
we’re not doing that, dare I ask it, are we
even part of the Body of Christ at all?
I recently saw a tweet from Louie
Giglio that said, “It’s tough to make the case that Jesus is in your heart if
the poor are not on your mind.” Man is that convicting. Because before I read
this book, I can honestly say that the poor weren’t on my mind a whole lot. And
when they were, I never felt like there was anything I could do about the fact
that they had exponentially less than I did.
And so, that is what I set out to do
this month. My mission is to think
about the poor and make myself and my possessions I rarely use accessible to
them. Who knows? Maybe someone will recognize their spiritual need as their
physical needs are being met. And then maybe I’ll have the opportunity to share
“the reason for the hope that I have” in Christ (1 Pet. 3:15)!
To
Him be the glory.