Why Minimalism Needs the Gospel of Jesus Christ

The root of minimalism as it’s usually taught is incompatible with the Gospel, but it can be replanted into the soil of the Scripture! 

Minimalism makes some big promises. Among them–having fewer things will–in itself free our minds and hearts to love and connect with others in more meaningful ways. It posits: get rid of anything that is not essential to your life, and you will be able to incorporate meaning into your life. Many of its teachers actually make all the promises that religions make: follow this system and you will experience greater happiness and freedom. Jennifer Barnick, a blogger who has researched the movement said:

“I’m all for the reduction of clutter in your home, the clamping down on mindless spending, and not trying to keep up with the more equals better equals self-esteem equation.  However, it becomes clear they are preaching that Minimalism can solve depression, anxiety, and can give one a sense of purpose and happiness.  That is the bad: the movement is being sold as a religion and not as a good practical virtue to weave into your life. Why is making Minimalism a religion that will cure all of your ills bad?  Why is making Minimalism a religion that will cure all of your ills bad?  It is bad because Minimalism will not cure your depression, anxiety, or give you a sense of purpose and happiness.”

Minimalism can be confusing to Christians because it does offer a fresh start in ways that echo the Gospel and remind us of what is true. It asks its practitioners to make hard choices about what they truly value in life and how to line up your life with those values more intentionally. Hebrews tells us to “throw off the sin that so easily encumbers” (Heb 12:1). Some minimalists say, “throw off whatever is keeping you from being happy,” but Joshua Field Millburn and Ryan Nicodemus, in their book and podcasts have a slightly different brand of minimalism: “throw off whatever is keeping you from living a meaningful life, a present life, a life that is connected fully with others.” They are branding minimalism as a new kind of religion, a religion that will grant you freedom from your anxiety and depression. 

Jesus also teaches a bit, like Millburn and Nicodemus, that it is easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to see past the number of his possessions and importance he places on his own role in life to even see his need for the Gospel. Minimalism asks: isn’t everyone in middle-class America a Rich Man? Aren’t we all blinded by ads and shopping and caring for the stuff we already have? And yes, we are!  However, minimalism’s diagnosis is limited, although accurate. Minimalism does not see that our love of things is all tangled up in the other bad things we are unable to stop loving, or the good thing we are incapable of loving enough to pursue them: it’s our sin and fundamental brokenness that’s at the root of materialism and consumerism, not the other way around. 

Now, although minimalism actually promises many of the same things that Jesus and Paul were speaking about in the New Testament (freedom, joy, and peace, to name a few), I think it may be rewarding to dig in a little and see that following minimalism actually doesn’t result in the same kind of freedom. According to Barnick,

“It will work for a while—especially if you go all out and quit your job, get rid of all of your stuff, and perhaps build a tiny house on wheels.  Of course, it will work for a while—just like binge buying or drinking or falling in love—while you are in the adventure of mania you will not feel depression or anxiety.  You will have a wild sense of purpose and people usually feel euphoric when high—that’s why drugs and religious movements draw in masses of people.  However, people will and do come down.”

Minimalism offers initial freedom, because the feeling of moral release from possessions that only remind you of your failures or that only weigh on you with no reward–all of that is gone. But then what is there?  Barnick “spent hours watching “Why I’m no longer a Minimalist” videos on YouTube. One of the saddest videos was of a young woman who admitted that Minimalism taken to the extreme, had made her feel ‘sad,’ ‘burdened,’ ‘stuck,’ ‘guilty,’ and ‘unable to express herself anymore.’ The truth is, for the people who pursued Minimalism to free themselves from despair, stress, and meaninglessness found they ended up a little worse off than when they began. In other words, like all manias, “there is a Minimalist hangover.” 

Barnick’s explanation clearly shows that minimalism isn’t freedom. It’s the same old Law that Jesus came to free us from. Jesus came to break the power that sin gives to the law: power to condemn us, to point a finger at all the ways we are still falling short. Jesus took that finger in his heart when he died on the cross. Now all the laws–the Mosaic law, as well as the law of minimalism–we can be freed from. Instead of feeling the guilt of not living up to another self-help book (or makeover show for that matter), the Gospel helps us walk in wholeness, and embrace our lives and those around us, no matter what they happen to look like at the moment. God will enter and change us as we learn to live in that truth more and more. 

There is one last connection, though, with minimalism. One of the things that God often does in the lives of Christians is give them a different relationship with our things. We may have been afraid of not having enough before, but trusting God can make us able to embrace others by sharing our food, possessions, and money. If we pray that God will show us how, He is certain to show us the way to break the hold that money and possessions have over our hearts. Let’s live into that and see what kind of freedom God can give us from our things. Let’s ask him for opportunities to reach our ears, grab our hearts, and move our hands.