The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry: How to Stay Emotionally Healthy and Spiritually Alive in the Chaos of the Modern World

by John Mark Comer

Think about Jesus. Simplicity is a practice that’s entirely based on his life. Myth-busting time: Jesus wasn’t nearly as poor as many people claim. Before he became a rabbi, he was a tradesman, likely making a living wage. Once he started teaching full time, he was supported by a group of wealthy donors (mostly upper-class women) who paid for his food and travel expenses.47 He even needed one of his disciples to manage the budget (of course, that didn’t turn out too well, but…). He was friends with both the rich and the poor, but there are lots of stories about him eating and drinking at the home of one of his rich friends, so much so that the gospel writers admit he was accused of being a “glutton and a drunkard.”48 Even at the cross the Roman soldiers cast lots for his garments, meaning they were worth something. John even wrote, “This [under]garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.”

As Dallas Willard so astutely pointed out, the cost of discipleship is high, but the cost of non-discipleship is even higher.

Again, the truism: we achieve inner peace when our schedules are aligned with our values.

Parent your phone; put it to bed before you and make it sleep in.

Or this from the legendary Walter Brueggemann: Multitasking is the drive to be more than we are, to control more than we do, to extend our power and our effectiveness. Such practice yields a divided self, with full attention given to nothing.

This slow, cathartic act of writing your life down is grounding, a tether for the soul in the hurricane of the modern world.

“The unexamined life is not worth living.”

“At this point in my life, I’m just trying to not miss the goodness of each day, and bring my best self to it.”

Nicholas Herman, the Parisian monk better known as Brother Lawrence, called this way of life “the practice of the presence of God”2 because it takes practice to live from attention and awareness. Especially in the modern world.

But to say it yet again, all four of them are a means to an end. The end isn’t silence and solitude; it’s to come back to God and our true selves. It isn’t Sabbath; it’s a restful, grateful life of ease, appreciation, wonder, and worship. It isn’t simplicity: it’s freedom and focus on what matters most. It isn’t even slowing; it’s to be present, to God, to people, to the moment.

What if the day, what if time itself isn’t a scarce resource to seize but a gift to receive with grateful joy? I’m just trying to not miss the goodness of each day.

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life.10 I’m struck by the juxtaposition of Paul’s words. The word “ambition” next to the word “quiet.”

Aim at an easy life and your actual life will be marked by a gnawing angst and frustration; aim at an easy yoke and, as John Ortberg once said, “Your capacity for tackling hard assignments will actually grow.”

What’s hard isn’t following Jesus. What’s hard is following myself, doing my life my way; therein lies the path to exhaustion. With Jesus there’s still a yoke, a weight to life, but it’s an easy yoke, and we never carry it alone.