What does Simplicity mean to you?

I recently came across this documentary on Netflix called Tiny: A Story About Living Small. The documentary is based on this 30 year old guy who has always wanted to live out in nature, so he bought a plot of land and built a Tiny House on the flat bed of a truck, with no prior building experience. First off, I had never heard of people living in Tiny houses, and the concept was so intriguing to me, the idea of living in a space that is so small and so....simple. And then this Sunday Mother Anna talked about getting rid of the 'clutter', the things that aren't bringing joy into our life, and I thought more about simplicity and what that means to me. 

Simplicity means living in an uncluttered way, both literally and figuratively. You would think it's simple, but it's really not. It means getting rid of stuff, letting go of things that may have meant something to you at one time, or maybe never meant anything to you--they were just taking up space in your life. Simplicity, to me, looks like living within my means. And when my 'means' grow, that doesn't excuse having more stuff--I can still have few things, just nicer more quality things. Simplicity looks modesty; being organized; not dragged down by my literal, emotional or spiritual 'stuff'. Simplicity feels like freedom from all the meaningless things in life that you don't need to carry around with you. Living in a simple way can be liberating in so many different ways. 

I admittedly struggle. I hold onto things that hurt me. I shop way too often. I am so scattered and disorganized, but I am simple. My spirit is simple. I want to love and be loved, that's pretty simple. But I want to exercise more simplicity, I want to practice living simply in all the ways one could live simply. I want to learn how to use simplicity as a reflection of my values, as a way to live out what's actually important to me.

Maybe I'll live in a Tiny house, or something along those lines. Maybe I'll feel ok with not having lots of things, maybe I'll begin to rid my life of the things that don't bring me joy.

Even as I've been writing this, I think how crazy it is to try to live simply when we're really such complicated beings. Or maybe we just like things to be complicated. The world is complicated, this city is complicated, my feelings and thoughts and yearnings are often complicated. Maybe  de-cluttering my life, living in a more simple way, will gradually allow me to address the complications that I run into. Maybe I'll be able to look out into the world, and inward at myself, with a fresh outlook when I work to live in an uncomplicated way.

I wanted to look up what the definition of simplicity is, hoping it would help me find a good way to end this reflection. Here's what I found--Simplicity can be defined as the state, quality or an instance of being simple; freedom from complexity, intricacy or division into parts; absence of luxury, pretentiousness, ornament; freedom from deceit or guile. It is synonyms with sincerity  naturalness, modesty, clarity, integrity, unity. 

To me, simplicity means embodying all that is good and true and just, and living in a way that reflects that. I hope to continue practicing this more throughout the year, and discovering new ways of living simply that I can carry with me into my future, wherever I may go.

Through Hope, Be Bold

One goal I had in mind for myself this year was to experience new and different ways to worship. Now, I realize that this is a very broad goal. I was raised in the Episcopal Church, and have no desire to wander from it, but sometimes I just don’t feel spiritually fed and I think it’s perfectly acceptable to find ways to supplement my spiritual diet with outside resources.

I have attended the same church for my entire life. In all reality, that’s quite an accomplishment—or maybe a hindrance? Who’s to say? One outcome of that has been that I have a great appreciation for that parish, and for the love and community that church has given to me. As I’ve grown into my young adulthood, I’ve come to understand that not one church, or service, is going to fill all of my spiritual needs; I’m ok with that. I love the tradition of the Episcopal service; I find comfort in its consistency. It makes me feel at ease knowing that I can go to just about any Episcopal church on any given Sunday and know what I’m in for—there aren’t many surprises, and I kind of like it that way. And yet, while I love the consistency of the service, I often times feel a lack of connection with the words that I’m saying and singing. I’m not feeling spiritually fed.

I was really looking forward to being a part of a new congregation this year. I thought, “This is LA, I bet Episcopal churches here are super progressive…I’m going to love it!” And then the church I’m partnered with turned out to be so similar to my home parish in Ohio. To me, that confirmed the fact that moving to LA for a year of service wouldn’t result in new experiences being dropped into my lap. If I wanted new experiences, if I wanted to be challenged, I would have to make the choice to do that for myself.

So the other night, I decided to step out of my comfort zone and attend a worship service at a highly contemporary church. I’ve attended worship services in the past that were far more contemporary than that which I was used to, but this took it to a whole new level. The congregation had a lot of diversity, which was great. In typical LA fashion, everyone seemed glamorous…a church filled with beautiful young people. Honestly, it was very odd. The music was too loud and fast paced for my personal liking, it felt a little bit like being at a concert—hands up in the air, feet jumping up and down. There were giant projection screens with song lyrics on them, and live feed of the band playing and the people dancing about. So, there I stood in the pew with my roommate and another young professional woman who was a first timer like me. We stood there in the dark, music jamming, colored lights bouncing around. I felt out of place, and yet I was surrounded by people in my age bracket who were enjoying themselves, and I wondered why I wasn’t….

With music still going in the background, we were called to prayer. It was moving and invigorating, reflecting on Jesus’ last words “it is finished”. The worship leader prayed on the Greek translation which is “the debt is paid”—we prayed and reflected on how profound that really is. It doesn’t say the debt was paid, or will be paid, but is paid. It’s not a ticket you validate once and can’t use again. It is ongoing, it is present tense, it is paid each and every day. It does not expire. My heart was moved.

Another worship leader gave “the message”, and I felt like I was an audience member watching a stand-up comedian as he traveled the stage, using social references and modern language to connect with us, he kept it light hearted but would dig deep into thought when it was appropriate to do so. I almost felt distracted from his message because it was such a different approach to giving a sermon than what I was used to.

Many of his points were thought provoking; a few in particular really resonated with me. In 2 Corinthians, 3:17, Paul shares that “the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom”. What a beautiful thought…With every breath we take, we breathe in the spirit of God that surrounds us. God’s spirit is never absent from us, which means that with God’s presence, we have freedom, freedom from fear, freedom from all that tries to break us. God brings freedom into our lives. A couple verses earlier, in verse 12, Paul talks about hope, “Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold”. The worship leader discussed that hope is a combination of desire and expectation. He said that expectation for something without desire, that’s dread. And desire of something without being realistic about expectations, that’s disillusionment. Having a desire for something, with a realistic expectation of its fruition, that’s hope. And that is what we have through Christ—hope for Christ’s return, hope for our future, hope for today, hope for tomorrow. And because we have that hope we can be bold. What an interesting thought. Because I have true hope, I can be bold. Boldness can enable me to let the spirit guide my life. Boldness can let me be authentic, genuine. Boldness can help me show others in my life how God is changing me. The worship leader made a really powerful statement along the lines of “There are probably people who would want to go to church with you if you showed them what God does for you, how God is changing you”. To pull it all together, I felt that what I took away from the service was that through my hope, I can be bold. And in being bold, I won’t point out the darkness in society but reflect God’s light to others. Through reflecting God’s light, the spirit might surround others, and give them the freedom they have been looking for.

I’m not quite sure that the service was something that I’d want to regularly attend, but maybe it was something I needed that night. Maybe I needed to be reminded of the boldness I possess, of the hope that I carry, of the freedom God’s spirit brings. It gave me the push I needed to continue looking for ways to feed myself spiritually, and to be open to new opportunities. Regardless of the way the message was delivered though, how incredible it is that our God gives us freedom, hope, and boldness. “It is finished”