Lenten Reflection by Bruce Main
“They filled both boats so full they began to sink.”
Luke 5:7
I’m driving north on Route 130 to my office in Camden. Not a long commute. 3.8 miles exactly. With traffic stops and minimal congestion about 11 minutes. Dunkin Donuts, Wawa, Dollar Tree, Popeyes Chicken, McDonalds, Auto Zone and Checkers all beg for my attention before I turn onto Maple Ave. to our campus. Besides these fast-food shops, convenience stores and gas stations, another establishment has entered the landscape. Wasn’t obvious at first. Hard not to notice now. Not one. Not two. But four. Like mushrooms sprouting after a spring rain. Large. Ulti-story. Block long. Self-storage buildings. Prime storage, Move in Storage…Extra space storage. Seems a little excessive. Unless this three-mile strip of Pennsauken/Camden border has become the designated self-storage capital of the Delaware Valley. Maybe I missed the memo.
So, curiosity peaked, warranting a little research. Google. Did you know self-storage units are on the rise? As of 2024, 50,000 storage units in the US. More than Walmart’s, McDonalds and Starbucks combined. Big business. “The rise of the American storage unit reflects more than consumer excess,” comments one writer. “It reveals how Americans manage uncertainty, attachment, and space. Storage is not just about stuff. It is about postponement. About holding onto to versions of life that no longer fit neatly where we live.
So how does the growth of storage units make its way into a Lenten reflection? Perhaps the proliferation of these faceless boxes is a commentary on who we are becoming as a people. Our accumulation of stuff—and our ability to let go—makes a psychological and spiritual commentary. Lent offers opportunities to refocus our lives, simplify and make space for God to do something new. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but an exhilarating choice for those who thirst to go deeper. Could cleaning out “closets,” and examining our compulsion to keep refiling those closets, be a sacramental act of leading us to deeper intimacy with the One who can truly quench our thirst? But hard to let stuff go, isn’t it? Hard to say no to our insatiable appetite for more.
Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann hits hard when he writes, “Our consumer society is driven by the notion that we always must want one more thing, and that we are entitled to it, and we will have it not matter what.” He adds that the Lenten invitation is to “refocus my desire. I will not entertain all those other lusts and greed’s and yearnings that keep me busy and me selfish and cause me not to notice my neighbor.” Preachers might call these words convicting.
Here’s a story in the book of Luke to help us reflect more deeply on the dangers of unbridled consumption and accumulation. You might remember Jesus asking a group of dejected fishermen to go back out into deeper waters after an unsuccessful night of fishing. When peter and his team follow Jesus’ advice and drop their nets, they experience the biggest catch of their lives. Nets break and their boat begins to sink because of the enormity of the fish. To stay afloat, sharing their catch with other boats is the only option. “So, they signaled their partners’ in the other boats to come to them…” God’s abundant provision becomes the very thing that might drown them…unless they give it away. Ironic isn’t it. Too much blessing will sink is.
I believe this to be true. I see it. My job allows me to visit some of the poorest communities in the world. Places where this no running water. No electricity. No flushing toilets. No washing machines. No pencils. No books. Houses without beds. Kitchens without tables. Schools without desks. Yet with literally nothing, people still find joy. Still share. And I come home…no more storage units.
Richard Foster writes, “God’s blessing is not for personal aggrandizement, but to benefit and bless all the peoples on earth. To understand the distinction makes all the difference I the world. The theology of wealth says, I give so I can get. Christian simplicity says, I get so I can give.” The difference is profound.