This month you told me, “Hold on lightly to possessions; all you have is mine.” Then you brought me chances to let go: my sweater to the shivering boy, my shirt to the cadavre (swollen past the size of her own clothes), my mat to the child who had no bed, my socks to help the traveler. Yes, all I have is yours!
At the time, I thought I was pretty good at letting go of things that meant a lot to me. After all, I was a missionary who had left the comforts of America for a much simpler lifestyle in West Africa, in a tough climate, with limited availability of most goods. We had said to goodbye to our children as they grew up and went to college. After all, I loved the song: “All to Jesus I surrender, all to him I freely give . . .” I had dedicated my life to following him.
Then I met a series of challenges to my self-image. Maybe I was not so unattached to my possessions as I had thought. I was in a crowd at a celebration, one of the only foreigners there. As the cool air of night began to push away the daytime warmth, a little boy near me began to shiver. I had reached into my bag to pull out my light sweater, having thought ahead. But the sight of his quiet self-hugs, attempts to warm up, touched my heart. I wrapped my sweater around him. Felt kind of good to know I had done the right thing!
Then one of our night guards suddenly lost his young adult daughter to death when she was poisoned by an outdated medication purchased in the market. He was one of our Nyarafolo believers, and we quickly joined the crowd gathering to accompany them in their grief. Because I had a car, I was asked to take several women relatives to the hospital morgue to prepare the body for burial. As we stood around the cadaver, the oldest one took the lead, gently bathing the corpse. They had found one of the young woman’s best outfits to dress her in, a fancy top and wrap skirt. The skirt was adjustable so it fit, but her upper body was swollen as a result of the poisoning; the blouse would not go on. I felt the strong prompt from the Lord: “Your t-shirt is stretchy; give it to them.” I did. It stretched enough to cover her. I wrapped my own wrap-skirt higher to cover my chest and drove the women by my house, so I could find a top to wear. I had loved the soft t-shirt I had just donated; it was one of my newest, softest ones. But it was right to have met that need.
Other moments began to hit me like that, one after another. Not only were my possessions not my own, time was not my own. We had been working at building relationships in the community. Now visitors were showing up during meals (which naturally, in that cultue, the host shares) or in the evening when we were hoping to relax and head to bed. Even personal space needed to viewed as dispensable. A new pastor and his wife were desperate for housing while getting settled; we had empty bedrooms. Now all of life was shared, time and house space as well.
We saw the Lord provide for others through us, but we also were learning what it really means to relinquish our hold on what we treasure. He was showing us where we needed to loosen our grip on certain aspects of life we deemed our own. It was worth it, as we entered into a new kind of freedom from being chained to those things.
The process the Lord was taking us through is called in many circles “detachment.” Eastern religions use it to work at getting rid of the things that tie you down and limit the forms of spiritual development that are their goal. In Buddhism, for example, “The Law of Detachment indicates that we should give up our attachment to things, which doesn’t mean that we give up our goals; we don’t give up the intention but rather the interest in the outcome. At first glance, it may seem a trifle or an insubstantial change but in fact, is a huge transformation in the way we understand the world and our way of living. . . At that time, we adopt a more relaxed attitude, and though it may seem counterintuitive, it is easier to get what we want. This is because the detachment is built upon trust in our potential, while attachment is based on fear of loss and insecurity.”[1] For that philosophy of detachment, the element to get rid of is the fear of loss, gaining “trust in our potential.” Hinduism views it similarly, insulate yourself from the emotional effects of setbacks and failures in both your personal and professional lives . . . removing worry and anxiety from your mind. You can also increase your chances of success by concentrating on your own performance rather than the results.”[2]
Contrast those uses of detachment with what Ignatius wrote, that detachment is about “making use of those things that help to bring us closer to God and leaving aside those things that don’t.”[3] This is what makes sense to me. It requires following the Spirit’s guidance as he shows us what those things are, whether it is through the Word or experiences—like the ones I was going through. Learning detachment was not only about becoming less selfish or anxious, although those were some of the consequences. It was not just about achieving my goals. It was about joining the Lord in his purposes in ways that a person could not while they are clutching to “rights” or possessions.
Adele Calhoun summarizes the practice as replacing our various attachments to anything with “wholehearted attachment to and trust in God alone.”[4]
When we were trying to translate the concept of being “godly” into Nyarafolo, a French translation (Français Courant) gave us a great solution, being “attached to God.” As that attachment grows in maturity and health, we learn to truly live as he desires. And his ways are all good ways. They do not conform to all cultural expectations, including views of possessions, status, productivity, and relationships that are self-serving rather than God-serving.
Sound radical? Yes! Learning to “let go” is a process that requires dedication. In fact, it is ongoing. There will come a time when we need to let go of this life, too. Mortality is reality.
For the moment, what is important is “keeping company with Jesus in the letting go.”[5] He will show us what that means in our situations. It is not about retreating to live alone in a cave, with literally no possessions or obligations except those viewed as necessary to one’s own growth. It is about following his lead in each circumstance, not letting anything get in the way of obedience.
When Jesus sent out his disciples on their first mission, he told them: “Take nothing for the journey except a staff– no bread, no bag, no money in your belts.” (Mk. 6:8 NIV) He was teaching them to rely on his provision. When we left for Africa, he did not tell us to go without anything, but to take what would give our family stability. We did have to figure out how to live simply while having what was needed for our ministry and for the kids’ well-being. Once there, we had to be ready to be yet more flexible as we learned about cultural values that we needed to adapt to, good cultural values like “open house, open home” with respect for community.
None of this is said to vaunt us! It was not always easy! But that learning process sanded off many rough spots in our character and showed us increasingly what it meant “to live for Christ” (Phil. 1:21), and more and more what this radical verse means:
“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Gal. 2:20 NIV)
When I reflect on the life that Jesus lived, going where he needed to go to complete his mission, depending on his followers for sustenance, not looking for accolades from the VIPs of his nation, I am encouraged again to just follow him. He knows the plan and the purpose he has for me. I am not to let earthly attachments keep me from discovering what that purpose is and living it out!
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to hear those longed-for words from our beloved Master some day: “Well done, good and faithful servant!”? Yes!
So let’s practice detachment. Let’s let go of attachments that get in the way of loving others the way Jesus loved us and gave himself for us, whether they are attachments to wealth, status, labels, time, privacy, the approval of others, or any addictions. I am still learning as he directs my life into activities and places I had not dreamed of. I am so grateful for his patience and the way he does indeed lighten the load I am carrying by showing me what things need to be dropped, and what things he values. He also gives us many other good practices to be attached to, like ones I’ve already been contemplating in this blog: celebration, worship, rest, journaling. Self-care is important, and I’ve had to learn a lot about that too. What is key is being free to “run the race” he has given us:
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Heb. 12:1 NIV)
This hymn, written by Judson W. Van De Venter back in 1855 on a farm here in Michigan, really nails it:
1 All to Jesus I surrender,
All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him,
In His presence daily live.
Refrain:
I surrender all, I surrender all;
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.
[1] Delgado, Jennifer. https://psychology-spot.com/the-law-of-detachment-what-can-we-learn/
[2] Yadav, Amisha. Vairagya: Hindu Art of Detachment
[3] Ignatius, First Principle and Foundation, quoted in https://www.ignatianspirituality.com/ignatian-prayer/the-spiritual-exercises/the-meaning-of-detachment/
[4][4] Calhoun, Adele Ahlberg. Spiritual Disciplines Handbook: Practices that Transform Us. (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP Books, 2005), 95.
[5] Ibid.
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