Hey everyone. Eyes up. Look at me. I'm important.
Leave a comment. Like me. Share this. Re-tweet. I matter. I'm significant. I'm important!
Imagine the time we'd save if we all just made this our permanent Facebook status. "I'M IMPORTANT!" Instead, social convention requires us to find more subtle and humbler ways of saying the same thing. It's exhausting, frankly.
About a year ago, I was cast as Haman in a church production of the story of Esther. In case, you've forgotten, Haman is a jerk-face who plans to wipe out all the people of Israel because one Jew (Mordecai) refuses to bow to him. In one scene, Haman is trying to convince his wife, that despite all appearances, he really is important - he's second in command, he gets invited to royal banquets, he's got ten handsome sons, he even has the kings signet ring. "See? Important!" he says to his wife who looks unconvinced. Turns out, God is looking out for His chosen people and things don't end well for him. At the end of the play, I got hauled from the sanctuary for my off-stage execution, hollering in protest and begging for mercy. "I'M IMPORTANT," I finally called out from the church lobby as the doors slammed shut behind me.
Creative license perhaps, but is that not, in essence, the all too frequent cry of my broken heart? Whether electronically or otherwise, I surround myself with as much proof as I can muster that, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I matter. Then the door slams shut. Amongst the dizzying rush of humanity, I desperately wave my credentials, job titles and accomplishments to try to slow them down, to turn their heads and to get people to pay as much attention to me as I pay to myself.
Ultimately, it's an optical illusion born out of seeing the world from within myself. I live inside of me. I am the centre of my Universe. All that I see, I see through my own eyes, from my own perspective. I feel my pain most acutely, my joys most keenly and one day, when I die, well, it really will be the end of the world as I know it. My daily experience re-enforces my perception that I'm important. Every meal, every bedtime, every doctor's appointment, every workweek and holiday strengthens the sense that it's all about me. Mine is the only life I have to live, after all.
But this subjective experience is at odds with reality. Consider population statistics or the view from a skyscraper. Crowded streets and cities, packed with people who don't even know my name. Even if they did, they would not be much helped by this knowledge. I can't possibly be important.
Then we watch as people, important people, the very best and greatest among us, pass from this life and the world barely pauses long enough to notice. And as much as we like to imagine that we'll live forever in the hearts of our loved ones, none of our loved ones will live forever. Consider this, how many of us even know our great grandparents' names, let alone any of the wonderful things they've done.
Imagine an epitaph scratched on a stone in a cluttered graveyard, screaming desperately and silently at the throngs beyond its iron fence: "I'm important." (Camera zooms out to wide cityscape). Yeah.
Perhaps the most compelling argument against my self-importance is the toxic effect of trying to make life "all about me." It's a recipe for personal misery and the misery of those around me. It's in my most embarrassing navel-gazing moments that I most feel like I'm going against the grain, kicking against the goads. Like my very being is discordant with reality. It's only when I fade into the background, when I place the needs of others above my own, when I let it be all about Another, that the Universe seems right. Like all the world around me sighs in relief as if to say, "yep, that's more like it. This is how it really is."
So are we cursed to live our lives in tension between "I'm important" and the crushing contradictory evidence? I believe that embracing our God-given identity and understanding His heart for us provides an elegant resolution to the conflict we live. All at once, Christ's sacrifice says, "You matter. Here's what I think of you. Here is what I would do to have you forever." While all at the same time declaring, "It's not about you. He's important. He matters. Offer up your life in worship to God and lay down your life to serve the needs of others. Then your life will matter."
Now there's an epitaph!
Comments