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Wallingford Presbyterian Church July 29, 2007 |
Rev. Ray Smith |
Acts 1: 12-26
One of the greatest games, perhaps the greatest college football game, of all time was this year’s Fiesta Bowl between Oklahoma and Boise State. It reminded me of a hard fought game I saw some years ago in which the teams battled back and forth, first one taking the lead and then the other, until a last second score won it. Immediately, the fans of the winning team went crazy with jubilation as you would expect them to, shouting “We’re #1, we’re # 1!” And strangely enough, the other team tried to outshout them, screaming “We’re # 2! We’re # 2!”
But more common is the reaction of the #2 team, such as Oklahoma, who lost that game with Boise State, in which some of the players cover their eyes with towels, the cheerleaders cry, and the fans get out as fast as possible.
The disappointment at being number two in our culture is a natural and acceptable thing. Avis has tried for years to rise above Hertz as the #1 car rental company. We are influenced by our society to strive to rise to the #1 position. We are keyed for number one, not number 2. The salesperson strives to be the top salesperson. The assembly line worker sets his or her sights on being foreman. Teachers want to rise in position. Principals often aim for superintendent. Doctors shoot for chief of staff. Congresspersons eye the Senate, Senators eye the White House, and Presidents concern themselves with a prominent place in history.
We are products of a rigorous, competitive educational system of grades and awards for achievement. We are highly structured toward success, part of a culture that ranks us and rewards us according to rank. We are conditioned to succeed, to be # 1. While we have no quarrel with the pursuit of excellence, the fact remains that it is not possible for everyone to be #1. Since Hertz is #1, Avis cannot be. Since the White Sox were #1, winning the World Series last year, St. Louis cannot be. Since Arizona is the #1 women’s college softball team, Tennessee and Washington cannot be. Only a select few can have the top spot.
Gary Moore, the television personality of the 1950’s and ‘60’s, was rewarded for his many years of service to CBS by being made a vice-president of the CBS network. He was half bragging about it to a friend one day and the friend made fun of the promotion. He said it was a meaningless title, that most companies dish out vice-presidencies like toast for breakfast. When Gary Moore refused to believe that, the friend, who worked for Nabisco, told him that his company even had a vice-president in charge of fig newtons, and if Gary didn’t believe him he could call up Nabisco and find out. So Gary did. And, when the receptionist answered, he asked for the vice president in charge of fig newtons. The reply he got really rocked him. The receptionist asked, “Do you want the vice president of packaged fig newtons or the vice president of bulk fig newtons?”
The world is full of vice presidents, the #2 people, and even the vice presidencies are divided over and over again. There are plenty of #2 people, but few can be #1.
A company may have openings for 10 managerial positions over a period of several years. Perhaps a thousand would like to be promoted and are qualified. Eventually ten are selected. That means there are 990 who came in second. And that’s a lot of number two people.
We all want to be great people. We want to know that we have contributed, that we have attempted something significant and succeeded. The root of that desire is not egotism. It is a person’s need to feel that her or his life is worthwhile.
When the Los Angeles Lakers acquired Kareem Abdul Jabbar in a trade with the Milwaukee Bucks in the early years of Jabbar’s career, Kareem was considered one of the best players in pro basketball. One newspaper account reported the trade with a headline that said this: “LAKERS LAND JABBAR---- AND SECOND STRING PLAYER.” You have to wonder in a sympathetic way about that anonymous second-string player. How did that unnamed player react to seeing that headline? Or his wife? Did she perhaps think, “Well, that’s my husband, old Mr. Second String--- so second string they didn’t even bother to print his name.” Or perhaps his daughter read it, thinking, not so proudly, “That’s my Dad—second string!”
It isn’t as if there is anything so different about the second-string basketball player’s life. It’s the fate of most of us. We, alongside him, are destined to take our places in the ranks of the anonymous--- becoming familiar with the frustrations of knowing we are forgettable characters. Few, if any, of us will ever be the topic of an article on “The Most Unforgettable Person I’ve Met.” As much as we would like to scratch our initials in the walls of history, we come, in time, to realize how difficult it is to make that mark.
The patron saint of all second-stringers might be the guy we just read about in Acts chapter 1, a man named Joseph or Barsabbas, as he was sometimes called, or Justus (J-U-S-T-U-S) as he was also sometimes called. There are too many Josephs in the Bible with whom to confuse him, and Barsabbas sounds too much like Barabbas or Barnabus. So let’s refer to him as Justus.
When Judas Iscariot, the traitor, became a victim of his own treachery, killing himself, and left a vacancy in the twelve apostles, there were two people considered for the replacement—Justus and Matthias. Both were qualified. Both had experience. Both had served faithfully and were deserving of the honor. The credentials for both were solid. They were both nominated. They were good persons and both would have been good leaders. But only one could be chosen.
The two appeared to be so even in the running that the 120 who were to choose between the candidates could not decide. So they came up with what we might consider a strange way to choose. They first prayed for guidance: “Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen.” Then they cast lots for them—which meant they wrote the two names on stones and then shook them in a pot until one popped out. This was the only time leaders were chosen this way in the recorded history of the Christian Church. And the name picked was Matthias, “and he was added to the 11 apostles”…. as the 12th. Matthias was the original 12th man!
I cannot help wondering how Justus felt. Qualified, experienced, deserving. He had prepared for just such a day. 120 of his fellow followers of Christ said he was eligible. But Matthias got the position. How did that feel, not to be #1?
Of my years as a kid in organized sports, my Little League team when I was 11, the Indians, was the best team I was ever on. We were undefeated, blowing out everyone in our division by 10 runs or more. (There was no 8-run rule in those days, so games went on and on with lopsided scores.) We were especially good when our ace, Roger Potts, pitched. He was unhittable. (I was the other pitcher—I was “hittable.”) But Roger had a blazing fastball that got past homeplate before the batter had a chance to even think about swinging. Having won our division, we then played the Reds, also undefeated in the other division, for the city championship. The Reds took an early lead, but we scratched out a couple runs to take a 1-run lead into the bottom of the 6th inning, the last inning in Little League. With one out and one runner on base, one of the Reds’ best players, got ahold of Roger’s fastball and sent it over the left field wall for a homerun. The Reds beat us 7-6. They were champions, not us. The tears, the heartache, the disappointment I felt that day overshadowed the fact that our season was such a success.
And so life goes! For every good team, for every good person, there always seems to be someone better. And that day in Acts chapter 1--- who’s to say? Who’s to judge? And who’s to know who would have been better? But a choice was made. It’s decided and done. Not Justus! Matthias.
Is there any feeling of worth for the 2nd stringer? Yes there is! It’s found in people who do not look upon their sense of worth as depending upon humankind’s or society’s view of their worth. We’re not justified by the way other people look at us, we’re justified by God’s grace. Our worth is not determined by promotions, awards, honors, wins, raises, ratings, tax brackets--- or even by casting lots.
Ken Kesey’s novel, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest,” which was made into a movie that captured the top Academy Awards several years ago, speaks to what I am talking about. The basic plot uses a ward in an Oregon mental institution as a miniature view of society. The central conflict of the book and movie is the struggle of the patients against the mental institution that puts them down instead of builds them up, an institution that represses individual freedom and seeks conformity for the sake of greater control. And the beautiful theme emerging from the story is that even inmates of a mental institution, which society clearly classifies as second-rate, have worth--- not on the basis of what they can contribute and produce (they usually contribute and produce very little), nor on the basis of how well they conform and compete (they usually do not conform well to our standards and cannot compete on the same level), nor even whether or not they have their act all together emotionally or mentally (they obviously do not)---- but their worth is based on no other criteria than that magnificent Christian teaching that they are human beings created in the image of God who loves all and cares for all equally. You see, they are worthy by the gracious love of God and by that grace alone. And so are we.
The same message was given powerfully in the movie, “The Elephant Man,” one of my all-time favorite movies. “The Elephant Man,” John Merrick, was grossly disfigured from a disease. Put down and made fun of, at one place in the movie he was backed into the corner of a subway bathroom by a frightening mob. And in one of the most poignant scenes of that movie, he shouts to that pursuing, persecuting mob, “I am not an animal. I am a human being!” We have worth, not because of what we do or how we look but because we are human beings created in the image of God, a loving and gracious God--- every single human being.
When Martin Luther would be tempted to get down on himself or begin to listen to unwarranted criticism, he would say, “But God loves me.” It was his way of putting his worth back into perspective, that it is a trust in God’s grace that can put anxiety to rest. We must see our worth as something conferred by the love of a compassionate God, rather than as something to be given to us or withheld by a competitive society.
Look at John the Baptist. He was at the height of his influence when Jesus appeared. But John’s influence went down, his followers quit following him and started following Jesus. Another type of person would have become jealous and bitter. Not John. He said, “Jesus must increase, and I must decrease.” There was a person who had a solid sense of his worth and who confidently saw his role in history, even though it was a secondary one.
Fortunately, time has a way of helping us gain proper perspective and view human worth by different standards than society. For instance, the Apostle Paul and the Roman Emperor Nero pursued opposite courses back in the first century and by the world’s standards Nero seemed to be right and Paul wrong. Nero was the glorious emperor of the world. Paul was a relative unknown who had given up fame and fortune in order to spread a message about a forgiving God who had come in human form in someone named Jesus. Nero claimed divinity for himself, and Paul refused to do so even when he had the chance. In that age Nero appeared to have the last word. By his power thousands were killed and at his word the world was controlled. Yet it is obvious that our view of Paul since that time has been considerably better than our view of Nero. Today people name their sons Paul and their dogs Nero.
So what is the secret to the acceptance of being #2? It is to remember that we were created in God’s image, that in God’s eyes #2 is just as good as #1, and that Jesus said, “If any of you wants to be great, that one must become the servant of all, and the one who wants to be first among you must be the slave of all. Just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life to set others free.”
AMEN