What the Netflix sensation gets right, and gets wrong
A very winsome and kind demeanor characterizes Marie Kondo, TV host from Japan whose "Tidying Up with Marie Kondo" is a huge "thing" right now, thanks to Netflix. This petite wizard of cleanliness comes into American homes that are stuffed to the gills with stuff and helps them manage to sort through it all, purge much, and after at least one cathartic moment leave the family rejoicing for being freed from the weight of so many clothes, kitchen utensils, books, or other possessions.Kondo promotes minimalism--a long taught philosophy in Japan that seeks to limit one's possessions to what is necessary. Her approach is blended with an eastern view of life that considers objects as having some kind of consciousness. Thus, she gets on the floor and prays/greets/thanks the house for its shelter. She encourages holding objects to see if they "spark joy" (her big catchphrase)--if so, you keep them, if not, you thank them for what they provided you before discarding them. She is non-judgmental in the choices people make, and through her guidance, it seems that each week's family manages to shed a lot of excess baggage (literally).
I've watched a couple episodes, and here's what I have taken away.
First, she has any number of practical pieces of advice for any of us who need to organize or purge our homes and closets. She has some pretty nifty ways of folding and storing things--full disclosure: I used her method to organize a bunch of t-shirts and now can access what I want more easily. And the process of going through them all caused me to eliminate some that I realized I had not worn for a while and had no plans to do so. So, she has some good advice.
Some of her advice is much more preferential. For example, she recommends limiting the number of books you keep in your house. For some of us, her 30 book limit might require a few purchases to add more, but many of us have more books than that in each room of the house, and couldn't imagine getting rid of some of these treasures. I say this not in praise of books, but in noting that one person's easily "pare-able" possessions are another's priceless ones. She has a whole system for what to do with sentimental objects, but I'm not sure my library would qualify.
Is there a problem with the program? Well, yes. It isn't tidying or even a more minimalist approach to possessions that is bad, it is the idea that things can be thanked or produce joy for us. It seems bold (and perhaps harsh) to say, but this very likable lady is encouraging a form of idolatry that most of us would not see as such. Thanking a house for its protection may seem quaint, but seeing a house as personal and not as a provision of God for its occupants is a biblically condemned error. I can't "thank" a house, because "thankfulness" can only be experienced by a personal being. I can thank the God who graciously provides a house or any other shelter for this kindness he has shown, but when I give thanks to the created thing rather than the Creator, I am doing exactly what Romans 1 says is the mark of sinful human rebellion against the knowledge of God. This is idolatry--making a good creation a source of blessedness and not a result of it.
Similarly, the idea of an old sweatshirt "sparking joy" is a mistaken notion of ability given to inanimate fabric. Perhaps that old sweatshirt reminds me of my glory days as an intramural sports champ (that is definitely not my old sweatshirt, by the way), and wearing it is not only comfortable but a source of good memories. That's fine. But that isn't the same as being the source of joy. The joy comes in the memories of life lived, the people we were with during those special moments, and perhaps the comfort is linked to having been washed a few hundred times. The joy is not in the shirt, even if certain joyous moments were linked to wearing it. And her idea is much more visceral, You hold the shirt (or other object), close your eyes, and see if it "sparks joy." Frankly, if that actually happens, you may be holding a demon-possessed sweatshirt! (I'm kidding but trying to make a point). It isn't the shirt, but the circumstances, the history, etc. Her instruction really is more about whether you have any good associations with an object--that would be a more legitimate way of talking about it. But she sees the object as "subject"--because before you can discard it, you must say "thank you" for what is has provided for you while you've had it. Trouble is, it didn't "provide" you with anything--it was a "provision" of a giving God.
Does this mean I couldn't watch the show without becoming an idolator? Of course not. But if you watch with a careless attitude, and start thinking of your things more like "beings," or allow yourself to lose sight of the unbreakable connection between your possessions and their true Source, you will begin to live out a view of reality and the world that is idolatrous. And that would be very dangerous indeed. Are people really doing that? Just watch the tears and emotions flow as people look at their piles of clothes, and their talk of being controlled by them. Watch people assert a sense of greater self-worth because they tossed out kitchen utensils, but thanked them before they were thrown away.
Marie Kondo was a worker at a Shinto shrine in Japan before she became the Netflix queen of cleaner closets and kitchens. Hers is a worldview that is far from biblical reality and she has no hesitation preaching it in her gentle, winsome way. Some aspects of what she espouses touch up against biblical truths about life not consisting in our possessions, and the danger that overcame the rich fool who only built larger barns for his stuff. But it never embraces the existence of the Great Giver of All Good Gifts, diminishing the divine to that spark of joy your favorite slippers might give.
So, I'll take her folding tips, and listen to her strategy for reducing clutter, but my joy and my thanks must head in a very different direction.
