“…do not be
afraid. You are worth more than many
sparrows.”
--Matthew 10:31
--Matthew 10:31
How reassuring it is to know that we are worth more than many sparrows. Sparrows, two of which could be purchased for a small coin (a penny); and yet Jesus assures us that we are worth more than many of these and so we don’t need to be afraid. Is that an example of divine humor? Heavenly irony? Or was that meant to be seriously reassuring to the apostles. One has to wonder.
What I
hear in these words is, first: a comic reassurance, and second: a lesson in
humility. Hearing this, can’t you
imagine Jesus nodding His head reassuringly, the turn of a sly grin curling the
edges of His lips? “You are worth more
than many sparrows…” Yes, we are
important to God, and yes God knows every hair on your head; and so, by golly,
when things get rough, whether my world seems to be falling apart, or all my
magnificent plans and efforts are crashing down around me, I just need to
remember: Don’t be afraid. You’re worth
more than many sparrows!!
Of course, that begs the question:
Oh, yeah! How many? At 2 for a penny, we’d
have to get up to fifty-one sparrows just to be worth more than a quarter! A
hundred-and-one, to be worth more than a half dollar. You can’t even ride Metro for a half dollar
any more. How is that for a lesson in
humility?
Of course, I’m being silly
here. I think it would take at least 250
sparrows just to get from my house to I-10.
And if I needed a transfer –say to get downtown-- that would be another
200 sparrows. Minimum. And that doesn’t
cover return fare. Plus, at this point, (450
sparrows; questions of aerodynamics arise…) with a harness and some twine you
might be able to… never mind.
Thinking about this passage, and
the idea that Jesus might be employing a little humor, I began to realize
another lesson we learn from Dante’s Divine Comedy. The utter absence of humor among the
damned. It isn’t that the souls in Dante’s
Hell have no time for humor, but that they make no place for it. The souls in The
Inferno take their sin very seriously. Dante
never talks about this; he simply shows it.
As we read the poem and meet the different souls in Hell, what we meet
are souls who have lost the ability to laugh at anything. This is a situation I find myself in on
occasion. I am dead set on some plan, some activity or some respite that I am
claiming for my own. It is something I deserve. Or it is –for instance,
becoming a deacon—my right. My vocation. God’s will for me! I want it and I
deserve it. When I am in that mindset,
there is little chance of me laughing at anything that goes even slightly amiss.
You might not hear me yell or see me punch the wall, but if my plans go awry, inside
I will begin to stew and seethe. And I will be unable to laugh –not just at the
situation, but at anything. I will refuse to.
And you know, having been in that situation before, I can tell you –it is
Hell. I grow hard and bitter inside and
lose my way. Because –and I think this
is key—I am not important enough! I want
to be not just more important than… anything… at times like that, I want to be
MOST important. And that is exactly what
we see lived out in Dante’s Hell. The
souls are all stuck wanting to be MOST important. And none of them can let go
of their sin (their ego) long enough to laugh at themselves and their
situation. Sadly I have found myself
living that Hell, too many times. In
fact, just now. I am trying to write
this. I want to write this. But, I am the only one awake and our two new
kittens are begging for food. So, I stop and give them food. As I am setting it
out for them our older cat comes looking for food, too. So, I put food out for
him. Thinking, I will get right back to my writing. But then I notice the kittens have knocked a tote
bag on the flood and so I stoop to pick it up. Still thinking I am going right
back to writing. But… as I pick it up I discover something is on the bag. One
of these critters has peed on the bag and now cat pee is spilling everywhere. And when I try to pour it into the trash the
trash is overflowing and the pee spills down the side of the kitchen trash bin
and now it is spread across the floor and over the side of the bin and maybe on
the refrigerator and the tile floor to the washing machine and… and instead of
getting bck to writing I am mopping the floor with paper towels and Windex. And when my wonderful kind and always sweet daughter
asks me what happened, instead of laughing at it all, I snap and murmur
something bitter about cats and pee and tote bags and trash cans and laundry
and... So, yes! For me, this isn’t always
easy. Even when I am meditating on the
Heavenly qualities of humility and humor, I can so quickly stumble and slip in
the cat pee of my pridefulness, my need to feel MOST IMPORTANT. And I think that is a very real kind of Hell.
Clearly, this is a lesson
Jesus is still trying to teach me: learn to laugh at yourself. A little humor
and humility will go a long way in bringing about the Kingdom of God. P.S. And –when you do the
laundry, make sure to balance your load. Uh, oh. Time to check on that loud
knocking coming from the washroom.
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