The Blessedness of Possessing Nothing

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. MATTHEW 5:3

Among the short chapters of The Pursuit of God, one has troubled and helped its readers more than almost any other. Its title sounds like a paradox, and it is meant to. Tozer argued that the chief obstacle to knowing God is not our sins, taken one by one, but our possessiveness — the deep habit of the fallen heart that clutches at things, people, reputation and even spiritual gifts, and calls them mine. The blessed life, he said, belongs to the one who has let go.

Things in the wrong place

He traced the trouble back to the fall. In the beginning, he suggested, God made a world full of good things for man’s use and enjoyment, and man received them with thanks, while God Himself occupied the centre of his heart. When sin came in, the order was overturned. God was pushed out of the centre, and things rushed in to fill the space. Now the things which were meant to be held lightly in the hand have taken root in the heart, and the heart cannot let them go without pain.

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. MATTHEW 6:21

Tozer did not mean that possessions are evil, or that the Christian must be literally poor. He meant that our relationship to possessions has become disordered. We do not simply use things; we depend on them. We do not simply enjoy people; we cling to them. We do not simply receive gifts from God; we guard them as if our life depended on keeping them. And the little words my and mine, spoken over all of it, betray the true condition of the heart. We have made ourselves owners of what we were meant only to hold in trust.

The root must come out

He was insistent that this disorder cannot be cured by a little gentle adjustment. The roots go too deep. The Lord Himself spoke of the matter in the most radical terms.

For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: but whosoever will lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it. LUKE 9:24

The self that clings must be denied, and the things it clings to must be surrendered. Tozer knew that this is painful, and he did not pretend otherwise. The tearing out of a root always hurts. But he held that the pain is the pain of healing, and that the one who submits to it finds an unexpected freedom on the other side. Things which were once masters become servants again. People who were once idols become beloved companions. And God, restored to the centre, becomes the heart’s true treasure.

Abraham on the mountain

To illustrate this, Tozer turned to the most searching test in the Old Testament. Abraham had waited decades for the son of promise. Isaac was not only his child but the channel through which every promise of God was to be fulfilled. And God asked for him.

And he said, Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of. GENESIS 22:2

Abraham obeyed, and at the last moment God stayed his hand and provided a ram in Isaac’s place. Tozer drew attention to what Abraham received back. He received Isaac, of course. But he received him differently. Before Moriah, Isaac had been in danger of becoming the centre of Abraham’s life. After Moriah, he was still dearly loved, but he was held in open hands, as God’s gift and God’s possession. Abraham, having surrendered everything, now possessed everything — because he possessed it in God.

For now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me. GENESIS 22:12

That is the paradox of the chapter. The man who possesses nothing, in this inward sense, is the richest man alive, because nothing can be taken from him that he has not already given to God.

Counting all things loss

Paul describes the same transaction in his own life.

Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ. PHILIPPIANS 3:8

It is worth noticing why Paul let go. It was not because the things he gave up were worthless in themselves — his heritage, his learning, his reputation — but because they were worthless compared with Christ. Surrender, in the New Testament, is never simply loss. It is exchange. We let go of what we cannot keep in order to lay hold of what we cannot lose.

Weighing it

This teaching is thoroughly biblical, and many who have taken it to heart have found it the door into a new freedom. But it can be misread in two ways, and Tozer’s own life shows the risk of one of them.

The first misreading is to think that God is against the good things He has made, and that the spiritual man must despise them. Scripture says otherwise.

Charge them that are rich in this world, that they be not highminded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy. 1 TIMOTHY 6:17

The aim is not to stop enjoying God’s gifts but to stop trusting in them. A believer who has surrendered his possessions to God can enjoy them more, not less, because he is no longer afraid of losing them.

The second misreading is to practise detachment at other people’s expense. Tozer’s biographers record that his own austerity — his refusal of comfort and his giving away of what his books earned — weighed heavily on a wife and seven children who had not chosen it. Surrender of what is ours is costly and good. Surrender of what belongs to others is not ours to make. The man who would possess nothing must be careful that his family does not end up possessing less than love requires.

FOR REFLECTION AND ACTION

1. Make a list of the things, people and gifts you most often call mine. Beside each, write whether you hold it in the hand or in the heart.

2. Choose the one you would find hardest to lose. Bring it deliberately to God in prayer, and give it to Him.

3. Read Genesis 22 slowly. Ask what your Isaac is, and whether God has ever asked you for it.

4. Give away something this week that you would normally keep. Do it quietly.

5. If you are inclined to austerity, ask whether anyone else is paying for your self-denial. Talk honestly with them.

A PRAYER

Father, I have called so many things mine, and they have taken root in my heart where You should be.

I give them back to You now — my possessions, my plans, my reputation, the people I love, and even the gifts You have given me for Your service.

I do not ask You to take them all away. I ask You to take them out of the centre, and to take that place Yourself.

Let me hold everything in open hands, and enjoy it all in You. Amen.