Standards, shame, and being special: Why it's easier to believe in God than to trust that God believes in you

1 Corinthians 12:1-13

Enter through the narrow gate, says the Bible.

            It is harder for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than a rich man to go to heaven, says the Bible.

            Sometimes the Bible seems to set a standard we cannot approach and sometimes we might believe because of this that there are only a few defining characteristics of the Christian faith. I mean, if there’s a narrow gate surely we had better be acting in a certain way to squeeze through it. And doesn’t the Bible say something about conforming to the image of Jesus? Doesn’t that mean we’re supposed to stop chasing what we want for the sake of what God would want for us?

            Anything good must be bad, we might think, if the way is truly so narrow.

This is one way to think and act as a Christian, but I don’t care much for it.

For one thing, for every example the Bible gives us of trying to conform to something else it gives us an equally strong example, like today, of the rewards and, indeed, virtue of being yourself, living out your gifts. Dr. Seuss was a Lutheran, perhaps you knew that. And Dr. Seuss was one of the best there ever was at teaching us that we are unique and special and, yes, a little weird, and that one of the most holy callings we have as human beings is to be you and me in all our strangeness.

            You are uniquely qualified to use the particular gifts you have been given. You are special. That’s the first word Paul gives us in 1 Corinthians 12.

            The second word is that, because of you being the only you there will ever be, you have a tremendous amount of responsibility. You must be you. It’s surprisingly difficult to be you, though, because there are many things in this world that want you to be something non-descript and ordinary. It’s these things that feed our belief that we have no special gifts to offer; that there’s nothing you are particularly good at. I hear people say that ALL THE TIME: I’m not really good at anything. Firstly, that’s a lie. It’s maybe a lie perpetuated by a world that suggests the only things a person can be good at are subjects in school, how you skate or hit a baseball, or how well you make somebody money. We test a dozen or so subjects in school, we participate in a few different sports and hobbies, we have what seems like a variety of majors if we go to college, and then there are jobs and careers that someday present themselves for us in the realm of “work.” But the truth is that these may have little to do with our actual gifts. At best our gifts help us to excel in other areas of our life, but part of the problem with standardized testing and ACT scores and work reviews and even job duties is that we sometimes confuse our performance with our gifts. If we struggle in one area we assume we are no-good at anything.

Show me a test that can measure empathy or humility or grace.

            Show me a Confirmation curriculum that will teach you to have faith.

            Show me a worksheet that reveals character.

            Part of the problem with how we address spiritual gifts is that we habitually undervalue wonderful Jesus-like traits such as humility and meekness and compassion compared to other gifts like intelligence, charisma, and charm. The other part of the problem is that these things don’t always show themselves in our work—at least not directly—and so they become hard to assess in others, let alone ourselves. In place of honest reflection on who we are we instead judge ourselves on our measureable goals. Our work becomes utilitarian—worth only what we put out—and it is then made distinct from who we are. It defines us but does not help give us meaning.

            I bring this all up because it doesn’t have to be this way. You do have gifts, I guarantee it. Some of them might be known because you’ve been told about them or seen the good work you have done through them. Others are less obvious but sometimes more important. Some people are created to be parents—I’m convinced of this. Their biggest gift is the capacity to raise children with grace and aplomb. Other people are created to be judges. I’m absolutely convinced of this, too. And some of these people become actual judges but others find their fulfillment in social work or umpiring or teaching or, again, parenting. Some people are born to be compassionate. And there are a million ways these people make our lives better everyday and I can all but guarantee that these are people who are underappreciated, while often these are the very people who fail to see any good in themselves. Of course they can’t; they’re busy giving their good to others.

            You have gifts. Don’t sell yourself short. And don’t think, for an instant, that God is selling you short either. God created you to be a piece of the puzzle and only you fit. In the tradition of the Christian faith this is what we call being part of the body of Christ. It means that the whole world and everybody in it is weaker without you; it means that the whole fabric of creation is dependent on we-weak-little-human-beings to live out the God-given gifts we have been given, because nobody else can do it for you.

            You are critical. You are crucial. Crucial. That’s the right word. From crux. Crux from “cross.” You are a person of the cross, and a person of the cross is not ashamed to be who he or she is, because the cross lays us bare for all the world to see. We are sinners in need of redemption. That means we need Jesus; not that we are of no earthly good. Some of us are so overwhelmed by our inadequacies that we never seize on our gifts. There is a better way. As Martin Luther wrote, “So when the devil throws your sins in your face and declares that you deserve death and hell, tell him this: "I admit that I deserve death and hell, what of it? For I know One who suffered and made satisfaction on my behalf. His name is Jesus Christ, Son of God, and where He is there I shall be also!”

We could be ashamed of our faults, but why? Don’t be ashamed for being you. People may mock and ridicule you. And the fear of shame runs deep, even deeper than death. This is the thing we must fight. In order to be Christians, the narrow path is the path free from shame. How you come to that place has everything to do with your own gifts. Still, the path is hard because we are people of the cross, and people of the cross choose to take on the shame of the world. This is where our spiritual gifts lead us—to a place that seems dark—because death seems like the last place of follower of the light would want to go. And sometimes that darkness claims us; sometimes we cannot see our gifts for the weight of guilt and shame.

            Sometimes the world will threaten you by reminding you of your insufficiencies, which is why we need each other, which is why we need this community of faith, to remind us that we are created to be ourselves, knit together in our mothers’ wombs, fearfully and wonderfully made. We all have gifts. Every one of us. And the surest sign that you are a sinner is that you believe that isn’t true; you believe that you have nothing special to offer. You do. The world needs you, but the body of Christ needs you even more. We are not whole without you. You are special, because Christ made you so. And that’s one of the hardest things for some of us to learn.