The
most recent must-do thing is a decluttering process by Marie Kondo. It seems to
equal throwing everything out except the bare essentials and happiness will be
yours. Now granted, I’m all for getting rid of things I don’t need or haven’t
got a use for right now, but, for one thing, she wants there to be a minimum or
maximum of 30 books. I’ve got more than that on my Kindle, and I’ve got another
couple of bookcases in the house that are needing a little bit of pruning but getting
down to 30 books? And then there are kitchen gadgets. As soon as I get rid of
one because I haven’t used it in a year, within two weeks, I’m back at the
store buying another one because I need it. So how does this help? I’m just
replacing old things that are already paid for with new things that I have to buy
again. As the King of Siam said in the Broadway musical, “Is a puzzlement.”
I
think about things that I hang onto because of sentimental value. I look at the
wooden box with a bird on top that my mother had, a stuffed animal my best
friend gave me, piece of clothing that I’m particularly fond of, or a couple of
Kindle readers (in case one of them, God forbid, should fail). These are all
things that I have that maybe I don’t really need, but I am very loath to part
with. And then I think about ideas and beliefs, and thoughts. I hang on to
those too.
I’m
a great fan of tradition. I grew up in an area that was steeped in history,
American history anyway, dating back to the Jamestown colony and through the
Revolutionary war, not to mention the Civil War. It’s easy to see how things
have changed over the centuries. A trip to Williamsburg would be an education
for anyone, but for one who grew up there, it’s always a chance to learn more,
and to see tradition in action, some of it good, some of it very bad. Still, it
makes it easier to see the result of two opposing sides of the issues.
And
then there are church traditions. I love the Episcopal Church for its traditions,
even though there are some that I cannot wait to change or have changed. The
acceptance of African-Americans and women and LGBTI folks as deacons and
priests and bishops, to name a few. We need them, and we are blessed to have
them in our leadership, but not everyone appreciates the gift of diversity that
they can bring.
I
love the traditions of the liturgy, but it certainly is good to hear Abraham’s
name coupled with Sarah, Jacob’s with Rebecca, and Isaac with Rachel and Leah.
It’s nice to listen to women’s stories in both daily readings and actual
sermons. I remember when the only time I really heard sermons on a woman would
be something to do with the Virgin Mary. Christmas was a big time for her, and
then again we hear about her during Holy Week and Easter, and then she pretty
much disappears. Now she has several commemorations during the year, we hear
about her in various stories along with her forebears, not just those in her
bloodline but also other women, named or nameless. We hear their stories;
although it may not make a lot of difference to some in the church, it makes a
difference to me. I’m glad to know more about women like Junia, Phoebe, Deborah,
Mary Magdalene, Tamar (actually both of them,) and other women whose stories
are not just thrown in for color but for actual teaching.
So
if we are to use the Marie Kondo criteria, we would have to throw out probably
most of the Old Testament or a good chunk of the Old Testament and a good bit
of the epistles to get it down to 30 books. Think of all we’d miss by losing
those chunks. It sounds crazy to even
think about it, and it probably is, but still, it’s what happens quite often.
We focus on certain scriptures and individual books whether or not they really
have anything to do with how we live today. As cases in point, Numbers,
Leviticus, parts of Paul’s epistles, and quite a few others come to mind. Yet
we keep them in because we have something to learn from them and they are not
books that we can easily replace.
We
have changed some traditions in the church like using Marian blue during Advent
instead of the penitential purple of Lent. That goes for candles as well as
vestments and paraments. It makes a subtle but significant change in our
thinking of anticipation and expectation rather than penitence and repentance.
We are not afraid to go out on Palm Sunday and march around the block or
through the city streets proclaiming our faith and probably attracting some
funny looks. But we do it now more than ever, simply because it’s a way of
getting people to ask questions and to follow the procession to see what’s
going on. Like Ashes to Go on Ash Wednesday, it’s a way of doing evangelism in
a new way, out on the streets and among the people, rather than just cooped up
behind church building walls.
So
what things do we need to change? What do we need to get rid of, and what do we
need to replace? Perhaps one thing is the rather totality of paternal
references to God in the masculine form. Granted it is a tradition going back
to Old Testament times, but we do things like eating shellfish and pork,
wearing mixed fibers, and accepting divorce as a legitimate thing now.
My
mind goes off into so many different directions with subjects like this. It’s
as if I’m looking for one answer that will bring both clarity and unity into
focus and I’m not sure I will be able to find it. Now, I know if I follow the
decluttering my house I will have more
room, and I won’t stress so much about not being able to find something I won’t
need again. But when it comes to my personal theology, my beliefs, and even
some of my practices, there’s where I need to do clutter. I must not be afraid
to try new things, but I mustn’t discard something simply because it’s old and
traditional. Unlike a citrus peeler for a hand sifter for flour, I can’t go
down to the store and buy a new set of beliefs, religion-wise. My theology has
changed since I was a child and it’s still evolving. I’m grateful for that. It’s
a good thing, but I want to be careful what I throw out because it might leave
a gap that nothing else can cross.
So,
I think I will tackle the drawers in the kitchen, just to see what I can really
live without and what I can’t. And I think when I meditate and pray this week,
I’m going to be thinking of what I need to declutter so that I have serenity,
peace, and clarity in my faith. It’s going to be a busy week.
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