What's in Your Backpack?

Matthew 4:1-11

This summer I spent two weeks in New Mexico and Colorado enrolled in a small-group experience called "An Adventure in Wilderness and Spirituality." The course is designed to deepen one's spiritual commitment. Participants live in wilderness environments and experience small-group dynamics. I was told that I could bring personal belongings, camping gear, and a journal that would fit in two medium-size duffle bags. I could not bring a watch or clock, a phone, a CD player, or a computer.

The initial experience was quite shocking. I never knew the time; I had no itinerary; I did not know exactly where the group was going or what to expect upon our arrival. I did not have access to newspapers, television, or telephones. It took a few days to become accustomed to living without lots of stuff. Since I was quite limited in the amount of clothes that I was allowed to bring, I wore the same clothes over and over, day after day.

In fact, the stuff in those two medium-size duffle bags seemed like luxury items when I reached the final phase of the expedition — six days in the backcountry. Preparation for the backcountry experience included splitting up the tents, stoves, food, and other community gear among all of the group members' backpacks. After adding cold weather gear, rain gear, and a sleeping bag, I had room in my backpack for a clean t-shirt, a pair of underwear and socks, a toothbrush, a little flashlight, a disposable camera, a small towel, and my journal. Packing my backpack was a great exercise in need versus want.

"May I take an extra shirt? It doesn't weigh much."

My guide would respond, "Multiply the weight by the number of steps you will take up and down the mountain with it on your back."

Even these things seemed like luxuries when I began the last two wilderness days. Those two nights were spent alone without the security of the group. I took my journal, the flashlight, the sleeping bag, a Ziploc bag full of food, and a plastic sheet. The stove, the tent, and extra clothes were left behind.

My little jaunt in the woods seems pretty pale in comparison to Jesus' forty days and nights in the wilderness with no food, no tent, no bed, no television, no Internet, no cell phone, no e-mail, no TiVo, no running water, no bread maker, no Starbucks, no PlayStation, no DVD player, no Wal-Mart. Jesus was in a place where it was just himself, God, and temptation.

Some have the impression that a retreat into the wilderness is just that, a retreat. But, in fact, it becomes exactly the opposite. Unencumbered and unprotected by the devices of comfort and distraction that we have created for ourselves, we face temptation at its most basic and powerful level. But the temptations seem far less complicated.

The temptations that Jesus faced and the mater-of-fact way in which they were delivered and rebuffed seem far more clear than the temptations that we face daily.

We consider temptatopms such as these: "I wonder if I should reduce my personal contribution to my 401K plan by .5% and give that money to UMCOR to help rebuild lives in countries where they have nothing." Or "I wonder if I should keep the fully paid car and thereby have extra income to help children living in poverty or sink a large portion of my income into a new car with more airbags and safety features." Or "Is it alright to go against my own understanding of what is right and wrong in order to conform to the business culture of my boss and clients, or should I stand up against injustice and perhaps lose my job and family income?"

Things are made clear in the wilderness. When one has all day in the still silence of the forest, one looks at these issues with refined perspective and focus. One thinks about what helps one walk closer to God and what keeps one from even looking God's way. Sitting on the ground and staring up at the swaying trees can help one gain some perspective.

This perspective does not always make things seem easier. Without the complications and distractions, one must come face to face with one's Christian formation and relationship with God. As I looked at nothing but the beauty of creation — creation so freely given and shrinking due to our desire to have things that we probably do not need — I asked myself, "How good a Christian steward am I with the gifts that God has entrusted to me?" Have you ever asked yourself this question?

As my two nights alone in the woods concluded, I rejoined the group and started putting things back in my pack. In comparison with being alone with very little, I felt very comfortable with the tent, the stove, and my few clothes in my backpack. Yet the load felt heavy. It weighed down every step on the miles back to the trailhead. With every step down the mountain, I carried the weight of my own being. I also carried those things that I thought were needed for me to be safe and well and whole. Back on the mountain, lying on the ground under two giant trees, I left behind the weightless understanding of needing only God.

Off the trail, back in civilization, there were hot showers and lights and cars and endless distractions. More comfort, but more weight. Back at home, e-mails required replies; cars needed to be repaired; bills had to be paid; and the list goes on. There are enough things to keep me well burdened, comfortable, and distracted. I have enough things on my mind to make it quite difficult to think about the things of God. It is nearly overwhelming.

As we look at how to be good stewards of God's abundance, we need to think about how all the stuff that we are carrying around relates to who we are as children of God. How many of the things that we own, rent, purchase, store, maintain, service, clean, upgrade, replace, and insure bring us closer to the ultimate love of God? How many of these things actually weigh down our every step? How many burden us, distract us, and keep us from a relationship with the abundant, life-giving Creator? What's in your backpack?

— Written by the Rev. Will Rice, who serves as Associate Pastor of Oak Hill United Methodist Church in Austin, TX. You may contact Rev. Rice by e-mail at [email protected].
(Edited by David S. Bell, Director of the Center for Christian Stewardship of The United Methodist Church.)

Copyright © 2005 Will Rice. Used with permission. Any local church, regardless of denominational affiliation, may reprint any or all of this document provided that the author is cited and the following copyright notice appears:
Copyright © 2005 Will Rice. Used with permission.