Tell me if this has happened to you before. You're putting laundry away, and realize that as you open your drawers and hang things on hangers, that you're looking at clothes you don't wear very often. You pause, pulling out a shirt you remember wearing 3 years ago, but not since. You think to yourself "I should get rid of this, I never wear it. Nah, I might want to sometime, and then I won't have it." I'm not kidding, I had a pink TNA zip-up hoodie, that I almost never wore, because I just don't love the colour pink, but I couldn't get rid of it because it was brand name. I liked simply having it, because it was a name that others would recognize and associate with expensive. Even though I didn't even like it!
It seems impossible to get rid of this stuff, because stuff in our society has become a measurement of worth, of power, of influence. In some cultures, it's not even enough any more if we have MORE stuff, but we've also added our own value system to certain names and brands of stuff, in order to make our personal worth seem more measurable. So this morning, as I cleaned my room, and I looked at clothes I don't even wear, I felt this crazy urge to purge. Do you ever get that urge to purge? After I made a pile and moved the pile into a box that I call my "pass along box", I realized Theodore was magically still asleep, so I opened the book I've been reading lately by Henri Nouwen, and came across this quote: "Training for service is not a training to become rich but to become voluntarily poor; not to fulfill ourselves but to empty ourselves; not to conquer God but to surrender to his saving power. All this is very hard to accept in our contemporary world, which tells us about the importance of power and influence. But it is important that in this world there remain a few voices crying out that if there is anything to boast of, we should boast of our weakness." Now you might be wondering what on earth this has to do with hospitality. Whether I admit it or not, the more value I put on my things, the more I live with my hands closed into fists. Ironically, the less I have, the more I want to share and alternatively the more I have, and the nicer I have, the more I want to keep and protect my things. And now, as homeowners, I think about how to welcome the stranger here, how to welcome a growing little boy here and let him come into himself here. I think about how to put the most value on the people, the strangers, the family, the friends. How to keep my hands open and my heart full. The act of welcoming another soul into the fullness of home, has much more to do with the availability of our spirits than the currency of our home decor, or the brand of clothing we are wearing. Duh. Really though. In his book, Henri Nouwen explains that "Poverty is the inner disposition that allows us to take away our defences and convert our enemies into friends. We can only perceive the stranger as an enemy as long as we have something to defend. But when we say, "Please enter- my house is your house, my joy is your joy, my sadness is your sadness and my life is your life," we have nothing to defend, since we have nothing to lose but all to give." I think he's saying here, that when we see ourselves for who we really are, which is humans, equally impacted by the human condition, equally loved in the eyes of God, and equally in need of community and hospitable love, it is that which finally opens us up for real connection with others. When we invite others to share in that space, truly putting aside our attempts to impress with our stuff, and the many ways we use material items to assert power and influence, it finally becomes a safe space, free of prejudice, free of comparison, free of jealousy. As I finish packing up my "pass along box", I want my soul to reflect this new space I've found in my closet. I want to become a woman who has open hands.
1 Comment
Sarah
2/16/2016 12:21:00 pm
Beautiful :)
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AuthorI'm a farm girl living in the city, a daughter, a sister, a wife and a mother. I love the simple things in life, and love to share them with others. Archives
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