The Secret of Significance

Psalm 139:13-18; II Corinthians 5:16-17

Reverend Beverly Weinhold

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 Washington, DC;  our worth is not dependent on our own works but on the worth imputed to us by Jesus Christ on the cross.  Cecil Alexander summed it up in his poem, written in old English in the mid 1800s:

 

                   Complete in Thee!  No work of mine

                   May take, dear Lord, the place of Thine;

                   Thy blood hath pardon bought for me

                   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.