The Secret of Significance
Psalm 139:13-18; II Corinthians 5:16-17
September 30, 2007
Great thinkers throughout time have
posited that all people search for significance. That is, we all have a heart longing to be
love, valued and to belong. According to
the Scriptures, this search began in the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve said
“no” to God. Regardless of how you
interpret the seduction of the snake or the bite out of the apple, the net results
were catastrophic. Humankind was
alienated from God, estranged from one another and separated from
ourselves. Between chapters 1 and 3 of
Genesis, we moved from being “naked and unashamed” to “naked and hiding from
God” in one fell swoop. Out of God’s
deep compassion, he covered us with fig leaves and we’ve been hiding behind
them ever since. The great American
psychologist Abraham Maslow summed crystallized this search for significance in
his famous “hierarchy of human needs.”
At the tip of the triangle was the need for significance, followed by
the need for self-esteem, value, security and belonging.
Well known Christian author, Max Lucado speaks to the search for significance in his
children’s story about the Wemmicks. The Wemmicks were
small wooden people carved by a woodworker named Eli. All day everyday, the Wemmicks
did the same thing: they gave each other
stickers that were either stars or dots.
Up and down the streets they spent their days sticking one another. The pretty ones with smooth wood got gold
stars. While the rough, chipped Wemmicks received gray dots. Punchinello, the main
character of Lucado’s story, always received
dots. In fact he had so many gray dots
that people would come up to him and stick one on for no reason at all. Most of us sitting here in the pews this
Sunday morning can identify with Punchinello’s plight: all of us want to be
popular, all of us want to please people and all of us want the gold stars
rather than the gray dots.
But the question that comes to us as
Christians is the same question posed by Punchinello’s story: Is the performance trap of stickers and stars
the staircase to significance or is it instead a spiral downward from the very
thing we seek? But before we answer that
question, let’s consider how this paradigm of performance practiced by the Wemmicks is cultivated in our own world.
I.
First, its cultivated by our cultural
values. Children are graded in school
and adults are given performance evaluations at work. The clear message is that your worth is the
net result of your performance. We are
therefore seen as human “doings” rather than human “beings.” Its not just an ethic of performance that
dominates our culture, but an expectation of perfection. It’s disturbing to me as a parent to hear
that high school seniors are asking for breast implants or plastic surgery for
their graduation gifts. It grieves my
spirit to realize that 20 Somethings are asking for
face lifts, tummy tucks and laser peels.
Add to that the fact that our standard of beauty is so distortedly thin
that people are starving themselves. The
media message is “extreme makeover.”
Therefore we are a culture so obsessed with outer appearance that we
have forgotten the inner soul. According
to Stephen Covey, author of “Seven Habits of Highly Effective People” we are a
people who care more about people’s credentials than their character. Cannon’s advertising campaign says it most
succinctly: Image is everything. Depending on the car we drive, the sunglasses
we don or the designer jeans we wear; like the Wemmicks
of Max Lucado’s children’s story we are labeled. And people stick us with stars or dots.
Not only do cultural values form the
mirror through which we see ourselves.
It’s not just the present media but the messages and memories from our
past families of origin. One
psychologist has said that for every 1 positive message
a child receives, they hear 33 negative ones.
How many of the men sitting here have heard: “If you could only be more like your brother!” Or how many women have heard: “Big girls don’t cry, don’t act like a basketcase!” Perhaps
some on you have heard words like those spoken in a supermarket. I overheard a mom correcting her child for
taking things off the shelves: “What’s
the matter with you? Can’t you do
anything right!” We all know that
unthinking words spoken in the heat of anger turn this well-worn saying on its
head: Sticks and stones may break my
bones but words will never hurt me. Words can hurt us. And words do hurt us. This becomes apparent
when the “you ares” of childhood become the “I ams” of adulthood.
The writer of Proverbs sums up the effects of words with this incisive
insight: Life and death reside in the
power of the tongue.
II.
Back to our original question in the
beginning of this morning’s sermon: “Is
performance the staircase to significance or is it a sure spiral downward from
the very thing we seek?” For me the
evidence is in. Collapsing into our
culture or pleasing people in our past or present puts us on shaky ground. According to the Scriptures the secret of
significance is not in found in pleasing the crowd, but playing to an audience
of One.
Significance can’t be found in the treadmill of performance but in the
free gift of grace from God. Blaise Pascal, brilliant mathematician and scientist
discovered this truth in his conversion experience of 1654. In his theological dissertation entitled “Penses” he concluded his own search for significance with
these words: Not only do we know God
through Jesus Christ, but we know ourselves [our significance] through Jesus
Christ. When Jesus Christ died upon
a cross his invitation to you and to me is to cease striving for significance
and to accept the free gift of His acceptance.
“Salvation,” said Reinhold Neihbur is
“accepting God’s acceptance.” According
to the Holy Scriptures, not only have we been created in God’s image, but
we have been forgiven of all our sins, covered of all our shame, adopted
into a family and inherited eternal live in heaven with God.
Like the money whose worth is
dependent on a gold deposit in the Mint in
May take, dear Lord, the
place of Thine;
And I am now complete in
Thee.
Complete in Thee! Each want supplied,
And no good thing to me
denied;
Since Thou my portion, Lord wilt be
I ask no more, complete in
Thee.
Cecil Alexander like Blaise Pascal made this seismic shift to see his
significance in God rather than in his performance just as Punchinello, the
main character of Max Lucado’s story. Listen to what happened when Punchinello
finally faced his Maker, Eli:
Eli stooped down and picked
him up and set him on the bench, “Hmm,” the maker spoke thoughtfully, “looks
like you’ve been given some bad marks.
“I didn’t mean to Eli. I really
tried hard.” “Oh you don’t have to
defend yourself to me, child. I don’t
care what the other Wemmicks think.” “You don’t?”
“No, and you shouldn’t either.
Who are they to give stars or dots?
They’re Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn’t matter
Punchinello. All that matters is what I
think. And I think you are pretty
special.” Punchiello
laughed. “Me special?
Why? I can’t walk fast, I can’t
jump. My paint is peeling. Why do I matter to you?” Eli looked at Punchinello, put his hands on
those small wooden shoulders, and spoke very slowly. “Because you’re mine. That’s why you matter to me…Everyday I’ve
been hoping you’d come,” Eli explained.
“I came because I met someone who had no marks,” said Punchinello. Why don’t the stickers stay on her?” The Maker spoke softly. “Because she has decided that what I think is
more important that what they think. The
stickers only stick if you let them…Remember, you are special because I made
you. And I don’t make mistakes.” Punchinello didn’t stop, but in his heart he
thought,” I think he really means it.”
And when he did, a dot fell to the ground. Amen.