Thursday, August 6, 2015

How to overcome the wheel of want

"Don't wake up in a roadside ditch!" That's the tagline of a DIRECTV commercial that encourages you to "get rid of cable and upgrade to DIRECTV."

 

It's pretty funny, right? This idea of a chain reaction of making the wrong choice. But, it's a choice the commercial is trying to make for you. Have you noticed how often we are exposed on a daily basis with advertisements trying to tell you, "Hey, you don't have this," or, "You should have this. You need this. Look at this. What you have is now old. This is new. What you have is no longer cool. This is cool."

A study in 2014 found that we are bombarded with 360 advertisements a day across the five media outlets (TV, radio, Internet, newspaper, and magazine). This is what I like to call the wheel of want.


Have you ever walked into your closet and said, "I have nothing to wear!"? What are you really saying? What you mean is, I have nothing new and exciting to wear. It probably wasn't too long ago that you bought those clothes. That's the wheel of want. We really want something. We get it. It gets old. We find something new to want. When we are stuck in the wheel, we are filled with discontentment because all we do is want, want, want.

John expresses this type of want in 1 John 2. I like the way Eugene Peterson translates verses 15-17 in the Message.
Don’t love the world’s ways. Don’t love the world’s goods. Love of the world squeezes out love for the Father. Practically everything that goes on in the world—wanting your own way, wanting everything for yourself, wanting to appear important—has nothing to do with the Father. It just isolates you from him. The world and all its wanting, wanting, wanting is on the way out—but whoever does what God wants is set for eternity.
Loving the world is not about stuff. It's an attitude absent of God, defined by want. You want to see what this looks like?


In Luke 15, we find the story of the prodigal son immediately following two other parables, the lost sheep and the lost coin. The son goes to his father and says, "give me the share of property that is coming to me." We're told he got his stuff and took a journey into a far country, and squandered his property in reckless living. 

The prodigal son was living this life of discontentment. His life was defined by wanting, wanting, wanting. Ultimately it comes down to this: He didn't trust his Father. Instead of living under his roof and allowing his dad to provide for him, he goes to a far land and loses it all. Next thing you know, he's stuck feeding pigs and so hungry the slop starts to look tasty. 

Do you remember where he goes? "How many of my father's hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger!" he decides. "I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you.  I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.'" 

Apparently, he didn't know his father very well. While he was on the way home, his father ran to him and embraced him. As the prodigal son started into his prepared speech, his father didn't even acknowledge his silly idea that he would be a servant. Instead the father gets a ring and a robe and throws an extravagant party. 

Did the son deserve such a party? No way. But that's the way our father operates. When the shepherd finds his one lost sheep he throws a party for all his friends, probably more expensive than the sheep was worth. When the woman finds her lost coin, she throws a party worth more than the coin. What's up with all these disproportionate parties? It's not about the son, or the sheep, or the coin. It's all about God's extravagant love. 

In Luke 15:7 Jesus says, "There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance." But take another look at these parables. Where is the repentance? I don't see the sheep or the coin doing anything. The son simply comes back for a job. Here's the part that really caught my attention. Repentance is simply allowing God to love you. 


So, how do we overcome discontentment? I don't have a five step program or a list of things we need to work on. The answer is really pretty simple: Allow God to love you. Just wear the robe. Put on the ring. 

"In this is love, not that we have loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." (1 John 4:10)


In that space of faith and trust, our wanting seems to wane. In the sweet embrace of our father, in his extravagant love, we find contentment, satisfaction, and fulfillment.

"The world and all its wanting, wanting, wanting is on the way out—but whoever does what God wants is set for eternity."

Parts of this post were inspired by Judah Smith's One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure and Matt Chandler's Oppressor/Laborer