Isn’t it amazing how complicated we can make things?
We’re always trying to find an easy solution to things and yet in the end we end up filling things with junk and clutter we don’t need and doing more damage than good
Diet fads, home exercise equipment, the latest electronic gadget that puts us further in debt.
Yet, things were pretty simple in the beginning.
Man communes with the creator and his creation in the garden.
The relationship and life is pretty darn simple.
But then man tries to take control of things and suddenly the simple relationship is complicated and things start to get cluttered.
Before long, commandments are given and rules are passed down to give instructions for the Hebrew people on how to live — both with their fellow man and with their God.
And yet amidst all these rules and regulations, one portion of Hebrew scripture stands out.
Known as the Shema, the Hebrews were instructed to recite the scripture when they rise and when they returned to bed.
Attention, Israel! God, our God! God the one and only.
Or a more literal translation of the original Hebrew:
Hear, O Israel! Hashem is our God! Hashem is One!
The Shema continues…
Love God, your God, with your whole heart: love him with all that’s in you, love him with all you’ve got! Write these commandments that I’ve given you today on your hearts. Get them inside of you and then get them inside your children. Talk about them wherever you are, sitting at home or walking in the street; talk about them from the time you get up in the morning to when you fall into bed at night. Tie them on your hands and foreheads as a reminder; inscribe them on the doorposts of your homes and on your city gates. (Deuteronomy 6:5-9)
As you can read, the Hebrews were instructed to recite this over and over again, write it on their hearts, tie it to their hand and forehead, inscribe it on their door posts and their city gates.
It was their creed. It was the pinnacle of their faith.
And yet for many of the religious leaders, they continued to focus on the other rules and regulations, rather than what remained at the heart of all the rules.
Over and over again, we can read the Jewish prophets telling the Hebrews that Hashem, Yahweh their God, is not interested in their sacrifices, religious meetings, conferences and conventions. He wants nothing to do with their religion projects, their pretentious slogans and goals. He’s sick of their fund-raising schemes, their public relations and image making, and he’s had enough of their noisy ego-music. Instead — what he’s really concerned about — is the condition of their hearts towards God and others. (Amos 5:21-24)
And so after several thousand years of trying to figure this out, a certain carpenter from Nazareth appears on the scene.
Upset with him for multiple reasons, the religious leaders of his day decide to corner him and try to trap him with their questioning.
They simply ask, “Teacher, what is the greatest commandment of all?”
He responds, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.’ This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: ‘Love others as well as you love yourself.'”
He goes right back to the Shema, the words many of these religious leaders proudly wear around their hands and foreheads. He goes right back to the very creed they proclaim when they rise and when they go to bed.
And this Jewish carpenter proclaims this idea and carries it with him — all the way to his death on a cross.
And yet today, despite these instructions, we continue to clutter our faith.
We continue to clutter up our soul.
We try to make things look nice by prettying it up with all the “good things” we do.
We try to put decorations up around the walls of our heart to disguise the real flaw — that we’ve forgotten the most simple (and greatest) of all commands…
Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence and love others as well as you love yourself.
How different would our faith be if we could get rid of all that extra clutter?
How different would your soul fill if you removed all the unnecessary stuff?
For a slightly different perspective on this, read Jonathan Brink’s post on The Simplicity of Church.
