I grew up in auto repair. My grandpa started the business in 1956 in a small, four-bay shop with three employees. My dad joined his dad in 1960, eventually moving the growing business to a series of larger locations. I came along about two decades later, and my brother-in-law stepped in as general manager when I was about twelve years old.
I didn’t take a strong interest in cars or auto repair, but I did work for my dad all through junior high and high school, tearing down my first tranny in seventh grade and running parts as soon as I was old enough to drive. By my junior year, I was working at the service desk and writing invoices. After I graduated college, however, I left home and found myself in the San Francisco Bay Area, serving as a youth pastor.
Rebuilt Transmissions Require Messy Benches
Although I never joined my dad as a permanent employee, I have enjoyed learning about his business over the years. Whenever I am in town, we tour the shops and I get to talk to the men who watched me grow up and who have worked for my dad for the last twenty to thirty years. I especially enjoy visiting the rebuilders. These are the men who are responsible for dissembling, repairing, and reassembling faulty transmissions. Each man has his own set of two to three large steel benches, equipped with air wrenches, bench-mount cranes, clutch-ring compressors, sockets, torque wrenches, hammers, screwdrivers, snap-ring pliers, and a host of other vital tools.
Prior to a rebuild, these men keep their benches immaculate. Tools are in their appropriate places, tranny oil is wiped clear, and all the replacement parts are laid out in their proper order. These men are craftsmen, and they keep their workspace well-ordered. It’s a sight to behold.
Nevertheless, while these rebuilders maintain a generally orderly workstation during the repair, some amount of messiness is inevitable. Upon the initial teardown, for example, transmission fluid will pour out from the pan and the body of the tranny onto the bench. So much for a spotless work surface. During the disassembly process, old parts are removed and set aside in order to locate salvageable parts and determine where new parts will be needed. This adds to the clutter. As tools are used, they may not make it back to their original spot but rather be kept in a place for easier retrieval, adding a bit more disorganization to the project. Again, no craftsman lets his bench get completely unkempt, but for real work to be accomplished, these men must abide some amount of mess. That’s just part of the job.
Godly Productivity Requires Godly Messes
Solomon wasn’t an auto mechanic, but he understood that productivity necessitates a certain amount of temporary disorder. “Where there are no oxen,” the king observed, “the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox” (Prov 14:5). In other words, if you don’t own any oxen, you’ll have a well-kept, sanitary, tightly organized feeding and livestock housing area. You will save money on food and time on maintenance. But you won’t have any crops, so you won’t have gained anything from your minimalism. That good feeling you get from a clutter-free life will only last until the hunger pangs set in.
Solomon is not advocating for a life of perpetual disorganization and disorder. When the barn is constantly in disarray, it is also a sign that something is amiss. We were made by God to exercise dominion and subdue the earth (Gen 1:26-31), and this task requires that we regularly impose order on the encroaching chaos.
Rather, Solomon is reminding us that we can’t avoid getting a little messy if we are going to do something useful with our lives. We may prefer a home that’s pristine and never untidy, but this would require that we never exercise hospitality (or raise children). A minimalist workstation may help us feel a little better, but it may also keep us from using all the tools necessary for our job because we just can’t stand the clutter.
Rather than pursuing love and excellence, we pursue tidiness.
This is a subtle yet significant shift in motivation. Nowhere does Scripture call us to pursue minimalism or simplicity or organization for its own sake. Rather, we are to do all to the glory of God (1 Cor 10:31), seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness (Matt 6:33), pick up our cross (Luke 9:23), and offer our lives as living sacrifices (Rom 12:1-2). Christ has entrusted to us a portion of his resources so that we might steward and multiply them (Matt 25:14-31). We are to be rich in good works and zealous to accomplish much for God’s glory and the church’s benefit (Matt 5:14-16; 1 Tim 6:18; Titus 2:14). These tasks will require us to make a godly mess on a regular basis. If the pursuit of simplicity becomes our primary motivation, however, we will stifle our obedience to Christ and hinder our fruitfulness.
While it’s true that maintaining an orderly home and workplace will often facilitate godly productivity because it helps us keep our supplies and tools readily accessible, the orderly home and workplace cannot become the goal of life. Rather, orderliness must be used in service of kingdom priorities. In the course of obedience to Christ, dishes will get dirtied, clothes will need washing, desks will be stacked with books and papers, workbenches filled with tools, web browsers and digital platforms overflowing with open tabs, garages stuffed with tables and chairs for the next Bible study, and truck beds will be packed with gear for the upcoming camping trip.
Stewardship, Not Simplicity
When the dinner or project or Bible study is over, it is good and right to get things back in their place. There is no virtue in constant chaos, and perpetual disorderliness may be a sign of slothfulness and a failure to do what is right (see Prov 24:30-31). But this re-organization is not for its own sake. By cleaning up, we are simply aiming to make it easier for us to host another dinner, complete another project, or hold another Bible study. The goal is fruitfulness, not tidiness. Good works, not clean floors. Godly productivity, not carefree cleanliness. Stewardship, not simplicity. May the Lord give us wisdom to know the difference.
