Being Less Than in a Greater Than World

I cannot begin to convey to you my horror over what I just witnessed with my own two eyes. While waiting to be checked out at our local Hobby Lobby, I watched a middle aged woman ram her way past the six or seven people behind me in line to take the next spot at the newly available cashier. Though usually it is considered courteous to allow whoever has been waiting in line the longest to make their way to the unoccupied register, I didn't think much about this woman's somewhat rude insistence that she be the next customer to be served. I had been waiting that long, I could wait a few more minutes. Unfortunately, two of the women behind me weren't so persuaded that this impatient woman's actions were socially excusable. The offended customers shouted down the line that there were people waiting and the overly eager woman needed to resume her place in the line behind everyone else. The woman who had considered herself entitled to the front spot responded that had the other two women been more aggressive, this never would have happened. After all, "you snooze you lose." That's when all chaos broke loose. Insults were hurled up and down the line of bewildered customers for a solid five minutes before the manager walked up to try and restore order… by siding with the proclaimed "cutter." Way to make matters worse. By the time I made my way through the line, the three strangers had insulted each other's character, integrity, and the validity of their upbringings. As soon as I had my receipt in hand, I practically sprinted out of the store.

What on earth?! There was one solution to that entire mess that was left completely unconsidered. Had any one of the three women determined that she was going to allow another human being to for a moment be considered of more importance than herself, the screaming match never would have seen the light of day. Had you suggested that to any of the three, however, my educated guess is that they would have laughed in your face. Allow someone else to be first at the sake of my pride and the meeting of my own needs? That's absolutely unheard of in our society. We can't stomach the idea of being less than anyone. We deserve to be the greatest after all. Why? Well, we aren't really sure, but our sense of entitlement stands regardless. 

What if Jesus would have come to the earth insisting that he be allowed to be the first, the greatest, the most important? I can tell you this, we would all still be dying in our sins because he never would have made it to the cross. It would have cost too much. Too much pain. Too much pride. Too much service on his part. However, Jesus, though equal with God, did not consider himself in equality with God. Rather, he humbled himself in obedience to the point of death, even death on a cross. No one here is asking you to humble yourself to death. However, I am asking both you and myself if we could stand to consider ourselves a little more "less than" among people who insist on being "greater than." God instructs us in Philippians 2:3 to do nothing out of selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility to count others as more important than ourselves. That means that we don't sit around weighing the scales to determine whether or not we think someone is "worth it." To Jesus, they WERE worth it, and that's just about the only scale that matters.

Baggage Claim

Have you ever been walking through the airport and noticed a lady struggling to balance her human-sized suitcase, a carry on, a sleeping bag, a purse, a tech box, and 6 teenagers all while attempting to chug a bottle of water before it was confiscated by the TSA? If you happened to be one of the men or woman fortunate enough to see such an entertaining sight, that was probably me you were gaping at. The past two summers I have had the privilege of venturing abroad with an awesome missions organization called Global Expeditions as a missionary advisor. One of my responsibilities under that title was to make sure that I got myself, 6 teenagers between the ages of 13-17, all of our luggage, 7 passports and visas, and a box full of peanut butter and jelly onto the correct airplane BEFORE the gate was closed. Some of the most stressful moments of my adult life have occurred in the airport on the way out of the country, and some of the most relieving moments have occurred as they shut the door to the plane and we taxied down the runway with all of our luggage and all of my kids in the designated areas. Unfortunately, as soon as the plane would land in Sao Paulo or Lima, or back in Dallas, it would be my responsibility once again to collect all of the luggage as it made its way down the belt in baggage claim.

Sometimes my life feels a lot like the post-baggage claim trek across the airport. I have had a moment of rest without feeling the weight of worries slung across my back, but now here I am with my bags in hand bending beneath the load that seems too big to bear. I carry around a bag marked fear-- fear of the future, fear of being alone, fear of never amounting to anything, fear of the unknown. I carry around a bag marked weariness-- weary from the day's work, weary from my inability to be still and wait, weary from taking on things that I was never meant to carry. I carry around a bag marked frustration-- frustration with things that are out of my control, frustration with the things I see in myself that shout "you're not doing anything right!", frustration with the people around me who don't seem to be acting the way I desire for them to act.

The sad part is that unlike my luggage at the airport in Sao Paulo, or Lima, or Dallas, no one is asking me to pick up these weighty burdens. I am choosing to do it on my own. No one's life or well-being depends on me toting this heavy weight. I take it on by myself. Not a single person will benefit from the baggage in my hands, but many will suffer from it, including myself. In fact, not only am I not required to carry the burdensome load, but by picking up each of these marked bags, I am denying an offer from someone far more able than myself to come alongside of me and lift my burden.

Jesus is saying, "Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls." And here I am saying, "No thanks Jesus. I've got it, but it looks like some of these other guys could use a hand. Why don't you go ask them?" What a huge error on my part. Here Jesus stands offering to take my heavy bag marked fear and replace it with a weightless backpack called peace. Here he stands offering to take the burdensome frustration and replace it with a carry-on called patience. Here Jesus waits to take my weariness and replace it with perfect rest. Each exchange depends solely on one thing-- my willingness to put down my bags and follow him.