A young man carried a burning question and he brought it to Jesus. He probably rehearsed it along the way, determined to make the most of the opportunity. This new teacher from Nazareth was rumored to have significant insight.
Surely it would be a brief conversation. The young man had reduced his question down to something short and sweet. The teacher would certainly have an answer that was just as simple. One quick question, one quick answer. Done and done.
The young man needed to fix his life. He was very religious and very rich, but something was off. He needed to know where to go from here and Jesus might have the answer.
After presenting a breakdown of his spiritual credentials, the young man asked, “What shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Luke 18:18). I’m doing this and this, plus also this and that. What else do I need to do? What else do I need to add?
He had done a lot of stuff and he owned a lot of stuff, but he knew something needed to change. To him, the answer would be addition. What else do I need to do?
Jesus gave him the brutal truth. “He said to him, ‘One thing you still lack; sell all that you possess and distribute it to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me.’” (Luke 18:22). Yes, you should do some more addition—Come and follow Me. But before that, you need to do some serious subtraction. Get rid of your stuff. Make some room. Then you can move forward.
There were many who followed Jesus who remained wealthy (cf. Matthew 27:57; Luke 8:1-3). Money wasn’t really the issue. The young man needed a custom-made prescription. Even so, the same brutal truth confronts all of us. If you follow Jesus, you don’t have to get rid of all your stuff. But you might have to travel light.
Here in the 21st Century we call the problem “clutter.” We find it in the chronic overload in virtually every part of our lives.
Just like the young man who approached Jesus, we know something is off. We have too much and we do too much. We also seem to have his same misconception about the solution. What else can I do to fix this? Give me a life hack that I can add to my routine.
The answer for us is just as simple and just as hard. We need to do some serious subtraction. But just like the young man we might reject this solution as unrealistic and walk away.
Maybe he would have stayed if he had truly understood his options. He probably didn’t have clarity about his choices. He thought that what he already had was better than what Jesus offered. He didn’t see the value of the subtraction plan and so he kept his cluttered life.
Jesus actually told a parable about a guy who was the exact opposite. “The kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in the field, which a man found and hid again; and from joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field” (Matthew 13:44).
The man in this story also had stuff. But he also had a clearer perception of the treasure that could be his. So he let go. Giving up something is easier when you realize what you could gain.
This might help us when it comes to the overload of our modern lives. Even when you see the problem of too much, you probably won’t want to let go. You’ll convince yourself that you need all the things—that elimination is unrealistic and possibly even self-destructive.
But if it can be shown that this overload interferes with living real life, the solution is inevitable. You have to get rid of something. Maybe a lot of somethings.
A closer look at what you carry on your shoulders might help you see what you could gain.
Stuff Overload
We have too much stuff. People in the United States have more stuff per person than any other nation in history. Closets and crawlspaces are so full, we have to rent storage units, filled with things we haven’t used in years. Research shows that garages were once used for cars.
Our possession have taken over. They not only take up space, they take up time. We have to work to pay for them. We have to find space for them. We have to have them repaired.
Everything you own, owns you.
Information Overload
We have an excess of information. Never before in the history of man has there been so much information made so easily available. We are drowning in it—so much so we have to sort through oceans of useless information to get to anything useful.
This might explain the prevalent passivity of our culture. The constant flood of trivial facts has a numbing effect. When people are given yet another snippet of knowledge, they say, “Hmm…that is very interesting.” Then when confronted with the truth about existence and eternity, their reaction is the same: “Hmm…that is very interesting.” Nothing of substance gets through the tangle of trifles.
People Overload
The population of the world is definitely increasing, but we suffer from people overload on a personal level. Virtual social interaction has multiplied our connections to a level far beyond anything that can be sustained with any authenticity. The sheer number of people we touch bases with forces us to reduce relationships to something efficient and shallow.
Isolation isn’t good for any human being (and it’s vital for any Christian to be around other Christians) but there is a growing tendency to have connections with people that mean nothing. We know a lot of people, but we know nothing about them. We have hundreds or even thousands of friends, but only if we change the definition of “friend.”
Choice Overload
In the United States, the number of options in a grocery store is ludicrous. It’s not unusual for there to be a whole aisle dedicated to breakfast cereal or carbonated drinks. In the 1980s the average grocery store had 12,000 different items. By 2024, the average grocery store had 32,000 different items.
Once upon a time, your TV had only three channels. If you were really bored, you might watch PBS, making the total count four. Now, we surf through hundreds of channels, usually with a sigh: There’s nothing to watch.
Many people today don’t know that TV used to stop. At midnight, the screen would show the national flag while the anthem played in the background—followed by a screen of static. Now, the screen gushes endlessly.
You don’t even have to wait for the evening news to get a solid does of pessimism. There are channels dedicated to providing you this all day, every day. There are channels devoted to almost everything. Not just news channels, but weather channels, reality show channels, sports channels, cooking channels, and more.
When you sit down in a restaurant, you’re presented with a menu with so many options, you have to dedicate some time to read it. Then when your choice arrives, it makes the table creak. The serving size of an entrée in the US is notoriously excessive.
The whole world has been turned into a buffet. We expect everything in our life to have options. It’s no wonder this has devolved into “church-shopping” as a legitimate approach to Christianity. Instead of looking for something that might be pleasing to God (Ephesians 5:10), the primary motivation is to find something that “meets your needs” or even just your preferences. Whether or not the truth is being taught is a side dish.
Schedule Overload
We are busy-busy. Every week is stuffed with plans. We have so much to do, we’ve convinced ourselves we can do 2 or 3 things at once. But the only thing your multitasking does is help you do several things at once—badly.
We are involved in so many activities, there’s no time to truly experience anything. You’re still in the middle of something while the next event is already breathing down your neck. The overlap blurs our days. There’s no time to brace yourself or even to interact in a deep way. We have too many commitments, too many social interactions, too many jobs, committees, appointments, and meetings.
The effect is inevitable and profound. You’re tired all the time, and this make you easily aggravated. If this mindset lasts long enough you reach a point of passivity. You just don’t care anymore. They call it “decision fatigue.” You reach a point where your mind is virtually incapable of making good choices.
Luxury Overload
Most of us are wallowing in riches. But it’s easy to miss. If you’re like most Christians, you read a passage about the dangers of being wealthy and your subconscious thought is, If I ever get rich, I’ll be sure to watch out for that. When you’re not a millionaire, it’s easy to dodge those scriptures.
But here’s the truth: if you have drinkable running water in your house, congratulations—you’re rich. You’re in the top 25%. That’s even before you get to your extra car and your multiple bathrooms.
This means you qualify for the following passage: “The one sown with seed among the thorns, this is the one who hears the word, and the anxiety of the world and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful” (Matthew 13:22). “The deceitfulness of wealth” is a thorn. This alone should get our attention.
Any soul marinating in luxury is in jeopardy. That danger of being rich becomes even more dangerous when you don’t even know you’re rich.
The distraction of riches has been the downfall of many. The Bible zeroes in on those whose prosperity interfered with their relationship with God. “You did not serve the Lord your God joyfully and gladly in the time of prosperity” (Deuteronomy 28:47). We’re do busy enjoying God’s blessings, we don’t have time to for Him.
The sheer quantity that fills your life, makes it all the more difficult for you to “Consider your ways” (Haggai 1:5). It’s hard to take a step back and get a good look, because that takes time—which we don’t have because of the overload.
The young man who came to Jesus got his answer. However, it wasn’t the one he wanted. “But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich” (Luke 18:23). Confronted with the truth of himself he chose to walk away, still extremely rich and extremely sad.
Those of us ready to loosen our grip, might find that Jesus had the right plan. But following Jesus will also require following through. And it will probably require some significant subtraction.
