33 in 33, the Lent Edition

A friend pointed me to this blog Be More with Less. The most recent point was about creating a Wardrobe Capsule. The idea is to cull down to 33 items for 3 months (the rest go into storage while giving this a go). Courtney Carver’s rules for herself is that the 33 involved “clothing, shoes, outerwear, jewelry and accessories. [She doesn’t] count underwear, sleepwear, or workout/sports clothes.”

I was intrigued. Specifically what Carver learned and shared from previous 3 month stints. I nodded in agreement with how that “one more thing” isn’t going to make everything perfect. How, for her, fewer items to choose from actually translates to less stress and anxiety.

Particularly during Lent (which it is right now), I like to mull over and act on the idea that often the things we gather around us often create distance between ourselves and God. That the more stuff we have, the more we are convinced that just a bit more will make us happy. But it doesn’t. It makes me wonder if perhaps in having less, I can free myself for deeper thoughts, a deeper prayer life, and deeper relationships. 

So I decided to do a variation in this, as there are about 33 non-Sunday days in Lent. So it’s a 33 for 33 thing. I liked her general rules for what doesn’t count. Although given my particular situation as a pastor, I didn’t include in the count any clothing that is designed to hold a clergy collar, as it’s really not practical outside of worship. I also decided to be generous with myself and not worry about including footwear, earrings, or belts (though it’s super rare I ever wear a belt anyway).

I followed the like to her help-get-started posts with making piles. My container piles consisted of:

1) It fits and I like/love it, 

2) It doesn’t quite fit or I like-it-but-not-sure-I-still-should (which is a little different from her 2^nd category), 

3) Doesn’t fit at all and/or isn’t my style so donate, 

4) Beyond repair so toss/turn into rags, etc.

I then added two other categories of my own: 

5) Wrong season (which I suppose is implied with the every-3-month change over, and 

6) Needs mending/hemming. My Rubbermaid multi-gallon totes worked great for this. 

One of the tough parts was trying clothes on and acknowledging how many things didn’t really fit and how many other items really, really didn’t fit. Sidenote: changes in medication are rarely kind when it comes to weight (at least in my experience). So there were things that I set aside for now, as I think it’s reasonable to think that some not-quite-fits may fit again as certain things in my world get balanced out. 

But there were other things – nearly a whole tote’s worth - where I decided they were just too small. Might they fit in the future? There’s a possibility. But I decided it mattered to me to be present now and not clutching at an “ideal” that really isn’t what an ideal is all about. If others would benefit from the clothes, all the better.

It was probably for the best that this happened over the course of two days – a couple hours on Saturday and a couple hours on Sunday. Then the final decisions, mending, and refilling of my closest happened on my day off, Monday.

The good news was that my mend pile didn’t have that many things, but at least a couple of them were things I’d been meaning to do something about for probably a year plus. So I did. We’ll see how well my use of been-in-sewing-kit-forever stitch witchery holds! It felt good to stop saying, “I gotta do something with that… someday” and instead just do it. That was even true of a zipper where the fabric had frayed, I tried to fix it, didn't work, and I had to put them in category 4. It was good to stop dithering and decide.

My initial box of 1s was well over 50 items. As I moved them to the bed, there were a few non-winter season clothes that I moved to container 5. What got to the bed was 49 items:

2 dresses
2 skirts
6 pants/jeans
16 shirts
2 vests
10 sweater jackets
11 scarves





After a few rounds of culling and considering what went with what, I made it down to 33:

1 dress
2 skirts
6 pants/jeans
11 shirts
2 vests
6 sweater jackets
5 scarves

It’s really too many pairs of jeans, but when a pair inevitably ends up in the laundry, I need a spare pair (or two…) I’ll admit, they are comfort clothing in they way coffee is my go-to comfort beverage. It might be an imperfect collection, but it's a start. 

Also, I would not say my closet had been crazy packed, but I am amazed how different my closet now looks How much easier it is to see what I’m working with, particularly accessorizing with. It’s a great feeling.

So though I’m not really started, I do feel a great sense of accomplishment in getting to this point. It’s a feeling that was worth the discomfort of the middle part with the culling of what didn’t fit and how that felt, as well as accepting the reality of the occasion purchase that fits but never quite felt right when worn. And now that those previously ignored truths have been faced, I feel lighter and ready to move forward.

Who is the Master of the House?

This Sunday's text is John 2:13-22. Which means I can't help but think about money and its role in a life of faith. This passage, with Jesus' righteous anger has a tendency to make us think that money equals bad. Haven't we heard Jesus also say:

         No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other,
         or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. ~ Matt 6:24

It's easy to again hear that money equals bad, but that isn't the case. The question needs to be asked, "Is money the master or is God? Which one is primary in our lives?"

In the musical, Les Miserables, we have the over-the-top number, Master of the House. (There's some rather bawdy portions, so keep that in mind while watching, though the film did stay within a PG13 rating.)

When money for money's sake is the goal, things get ugly quickly. People are taken advantage of. Their weaknesses and vulnerabilities are exploited. Lying, cheating, stealing, etc., are all okay for the sake of the greater "good" - money.

To a certain degree, something similar is going on in the courtyard of the Temple. When the people of Israel came to the Temple, they intended to sacrifice an animal - which had to be without blemish. If they lived far from Jerusalem, it wasn't practical to bring an animal on the long trek. It made more sense to purchase one in Jerusalem. Also, one couldn't use money with "graven images" on it within the temple.*

So there were currency exchangers available. And they knew the people had to use their service, so they could charge a steep fee for providing the exchange. There were people with unblemished animals, who again knew people had to use their service, so they charged a steep fee. In The Message, Peterson uses the term "loan shark" to get the idea of their personality across.

I don't believe that Jesus opposed the fact they were making a living, but there is a difference between making a living and gouging those who have no other option. In Luke 20:25, Jesus says that when it comes to taxes, “Then give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

We also have the story of his meeting with Zacchaeus and asking this tax collector if he could share a meal with him. Jesus never tells Zacchaeus that he needs to stop being a tax collector. And Zacchaeus makes a promise to be fair and just in his work.

But in this setting of the Temple, those who change money and those who sell animals appear to be taking advantage of those who are coming to worship. They are neither loving the Lord their God with all their heart, mind, and soul, nor loving their neighbor as themselves. The opportunity of money comes before God and neighbor. For them, Money is indeed the Master of the House.

But Jesus reminds us - with passion - that God is the Master of the House. Not just the Temple of his day, but all houses of worship. Not just houses of worship, but the entire world. When we keep focused on the fact that God is the Master of the House, then it is easier for money to be in its proper perspective.

Money, be it straight up cash, items of value, or other, is a gift from God. We are entrusted with its good and proper use. The vocation we each have is a gift from God, entrusted to us for good and proper use. Each day we are called to ask, "Are the ways I earn money and the ways I spend money in tune with loving my God and loving my neighbor or am I making my Father's house a marketplace?"



* The Gospel and Letters of John, R. Alan Culpepper, Abingdon Press, 1998.

Lent Day 2: Clothes

I decided clothes needed to be on the early end of our 40 days, as it is a process when it comes to figuring out what fits/doesn't fit, what you wear/don't wear (and when was the last time you wore item X), getting over the guilt of those things that fit but you know you never wear, as well as owning that while you love the memories of item Z, it no longer fits/is fit for public viewing. 

I recently found a useful idea in Real Simple magazine. If you want to figure out what clothes you do and don't wear, turn all your hangers around so they are "backward". Then as you wear things and rehang them, turn the hanger so it faces the proper way. Then, after a period of time (of your own designation), you'll know what you wear and don't wear.

But once you've done that, there is still the question of enoughness. Even if you do wear it, do you need it? What is enough? Be it jeans, slacks, skirts, shirts, t-shirts, sports coats, or sweaters.

Perhaps you heard the story of the Australian morning show host who quietly wore the same blue surge suit every day for a year to see if viewers noticed, given how viewers frequently commented on his female co-host’s clothing. It was his act of protest against disproportional value put on what his co-host looked like instead of her skills. There’s a montage here, showing his outfit in its limited variations for 2014.

Now I’m not suggesting that you should have only one suit/dress. However I do think it is helpful to a) step back and ask "Is the extent of my modern wardrobe driven by the expectations of others or what I think are the expectations of others?" and b) consider going your own way and decide what enough looks like.

And as you proceed with culling your wardrobe, reflect on this text from Luke 3:9-14 and the questions that follow:

“Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” 

And the crowds asked [John], “What then should we do?” 

In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” 

Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 

Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” 

He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

What does enough look like? When do your desires for more negatively impact your neighbor? What is the relationship (or inverse relationship) between bearing good fruit and wanting & taking more than we need (even if we have legal access to that more)?

The Good News in a Cross of Ash

For out of [the ground] you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return. ~Genesis 3:19b

These are the words spoken on this day, during the imposition of ashes. Words that remind me of my very real mortality. That no matter how much moisturizer, exercise, healthy eating, nor my socio-economic status, education, faith life, etc., change the truth that I am growing older. I will die. 

Generally, I don’t like to dwell on that fact. I’m in that age group where I probably should have some sort of will, but don’t. Because I like to believe that I am too young yet. While there’s the possibility of accidental death, that won’t be me. I’ve got years and years and years. Right? 

Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, at some point I will die. The water in my body will evaporate, that which remains will turn to dust. And nothing can stop that. 

I am dust. To dust I shall return. 

And while a rather in-my-face statement, for me it is not a frightening statement. For I know that my Redeemer lives. 

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. ~Romans 6:5

It’s not just ash – dust –  rubbed on my forehead and words affirming my mortality spoken. Those ashes are in the shape of a cross. And in that cross is the implicit promise of Christ as my redeemer. 

If I keep Christ central in my life, I can face my fears. My fears of my mortality. My fears that I am not enough. My fears of being forgotten. Maybe you too have variations of those fears, or others that stalk you.

But in facing our fears, in trusting that in Christ we are claimed as children of G-d – forever, then those fears no longer run the show.

One of the things that fears do is make us cling to things. For some, buying things makes them feel alive. For others, in being able to have things it provides a sense of assurance of being alive. For others, having the right things means feeling like they are keeping up with the Jones’. At least for that one moment.

But stuff only gives us a fleeting feeling of enoughness. Too often what stuff actually does is get in the way of our relationship with G-d. So much stuff there’s no room for the Holy Spirit. 

What is a classic Lutheran truth of faith is that in letting go, we find. That is having less, we discover abundance. That in no longer hiding behind things, we realize we’re standing in the light of G-d.

One of my Lenten practices is to intentionally let go of things. I invite you to join me for your own intentional practice. If you us Facebook, you can join Giving it Away for Lent, where we share scripture, articles, and other helps, as well as what we’ve let go of in our own homes.

Come and see.