Unpacking Our Bags

Ephesians 6:10-20

August 26, 2018

A few years back I ran across an article about some study of kids’ backpacks. Researchers found that the typical sixth grader is lugging around a bag that weighs almost 20 pounds. Your average sixth grader is 11 years old and your average 11-year-old weighs around 80 pounds, and your average doctor says kids’ backpacks should weigh no more than about 15 percent of the weight of the person carrying it.

This is the math and social science portion of your morning worship, and the conclusion is that your average kid is carrying around too much stuff.

Which is, as it turns out, excellent preparation for the rest of life. We are all carrying around a whole lot of stuff that we need to unpack, let go of, or just get rid of. Now, you may think that we’ve shifted to the metaphorical at this point, but not yet.

Almost all of us really do need to let go of some stuff. One of my favorite social science/demographic factoids underscores this reality. Since the year of my birth – 1959 – the size of the average American house has more than doubled, while the size of the average American household has decreased by about 50 percent. Heck, we added 80 or so additional square feet to our little house after one of our kids left home for college!

Meanwhile, the self-storage industry – which basically didn’t exist in 1960 – now has more than 2 billion cubic feet of space for us to keep the stuff that doesn’t fit in those twice-as-big-as-they-used-to-be houses. Doing our own, private piece of that, we built a boffo storage shed in our tiny back yard. Again, after two of our kids left home. And, now that all three of them have left, we’re pondering an addition to the space.

We’ve got some unpacking to do, and some serious discarding of the unnecessary baggage.

This should be fun! I’ll start!

As the guy on TV says, “what’s in your wallet – er, backpack.”

To begin with, my bag is, as it turns out lighter than your average 11-year-olds. It’s got a few odd miscellaneous bits in it. I mean, this random Mac connection serving primarily as a embroidery floss holder is just weird, and this ancient matchbox is questionable.

But most of the weight of the thing is a couple of notebooks and a laptop. If I want to explore the baggage I’m carrying around, the random notes, poems, lyrics, and reminders on the pages – digital or analog – in those items probably reveal most of it.

And, yes, now we’ve shifted decidedly to the metaphorical baggage. Or, perhaps, more pointedly, to the spiritual baggage. What do I need to let go of in order to make space for what I need to grasp more fully?

Am I overly attached to dreams of affluence? Am I lugging around dreams of grandeur around some lofty achievement that will put my name in lights? Am I too hung up on presenting the right appearance? Some variation on those obsessions – affluence, achievement, appearance – fill most of our backpacks.

We also lug around old wounds from slights or taunts or random comments or performance reviews from decades ago. I think that’s why my backpack has so many weird little internal pockets. No lie, I discovered a new one two weeks ago. I’ve had this particular bag for at least a year. I am certain that searching through a backpack is an excellent metaphor for therapy!

Is there room in here, in the midst of everything else that I’m dragging around, for “the whole armor of God”?

Can I carry the belt of truth with me? In an age of constant lies, when the president’s attorney tells us that “truth isn’t truth,” it seems like this is more important than ever. Can I squeeze it in here among all the lies I tell myself?

How about the breastplate of righteousness? I have plenty of space for self-righteousness, but actual righteousness? I might have to let go of some of those things I’m so fond of to create space in my life for acts of justice and righteousness.

Shoes for spreading the gospel of peace? I just got a pair of Chacos – does that count? As Dr. King put it, true peace is not the absence of tension, it is the presence of justice. Creating space in my life for doing justice is, thus, necessary for spreading the gospel of peace. All of this really is about what we make space for in our own lives.

The shield of faith and the helmet of salvation? If I’m going to wear those then I have to let go of fear for the opposite of faith has never been doubt, nor is it wrong belief. The opposite of faith is, quite simply, fear. That’s why Jesus said, so many times, “don’t be afraid,” even when he knew he was inviting his followers to risky acts of faith.

At bottom, all of the baggage I carry around with me is about the things I fear. All of it. I think that’s true for every one of us.

So as a new school year rolls around, as we pack up backpacks for kids in our neighborhood, use this small act of charity as an opportunity to explore what you’re still carrying around that you need to let go of, and then ponder how you can make room in your life for the things Paul invites us to wear through life: truth, righteousness, peace, faith. Pack with care, and use these all we great love. May it be so, for all of us. Amen.