5/31/59

Scripture: Romans 12: 1-12

Text: Romans 12: 3b;....“not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think.”

One of our human problems is keeping ourselves in the right kind of place. Finding ourselves is a little like focusing the lens for the projector when we throw a film strip on the screen. If the operator turns that lens holder too far out from the film strip the picture is blurred; if too close to the file strip, the picture is blurred. It needs to be just right.

When considering our own size -- and, by that, I mean our own value and importance to life around us -- we may have “focusing trouble” in making ourselves too large or too small.

It is no new difficulty that we sometimes see ourselves too large. This kind of illusion is as old as the human race. We people are hardly famous for humility. The book of Genesis (that is, the Bible story of “beginnings”) informs us that when Adam and Eve were in the Garden of Eden, the serpent (that is a good name for one form of temptation) said to Eve, “You will not die. When you eat of the fruit [of that forbidden tree] your eyes will be open, and you will be as God.” [Genesis 3: 4-5]. And both of those parents of the human race liked the idea. Of course, it got them into trouble. For neither have they, nor has anybody else, been good enough or great enough to be as God is. They were all out of focus --- and so they were soon out of the garden, too.

Jacob’s mother thought that he was the finest fellow in all the land. And Jacob agreed with his mother. His older brother, Esau, didn’t like the idea, and Jacob was lucky to escape with his life, after Esau found out that Jacob had usurped his place in the family. [Genesis 27: 18-42].

Joseph embarrassed the whole family with his great ideas of himself. [Genesis 37: 5-11]. In each case, for God to get some good use out of these lives He had to overrule and overcome some distressing faults of vision.

Sometimes it is our position that makes us see ourselves as “king-size.” Not so long ago, a man named Hitler got some terribly big ideas of himself. Hosts of people had to obey him, and multitudes were brutally killed before he was finally pulled back into focus in shame and discredit. For a while, Louis XIV of France was king. The position went to his head so badly that he declared, “I am the state.” New Jersey had a political boss and governor who manipulated the statutes (the laws) of his state so shamefully that he was asked about it. He made the classic reply: “I am the law.” And these fellows had to be pulled back into focus in history.

Have you heard about the young fellow (a boy, really) who had the job of carting the mail bags from the railroad station to the village post office? (That is really a federal job, as is anything having to do with the US mail.) One day, while carting the mail, he was crowded by a bully. Said he: “Be mighty careful. When you jostle me, you jostle the United States government.”

It can be our position which gets us out of focus. And yet we can not eliminate responsibility for our position. King Louis XIV should have been a good and able king. Frank Hague should have been a conscientious governor. The boy with the mail bags should be guarding them with the utmost care until they were delivered at the post office.

In our complicated society there must be not only division of labor, but a meticulous performance of responsibility. It almost seems like a miracle that traffic can flow, even as well as it does. It could be frightfully snarled if each driver did not keep to the right hand side of the road, observe traffic signs and rules, and even courtesies. The efficiency of factory and office, the delivery of produce regularly to the supermarket, depends on conscientious performance of responsibility by a great many people. Each of us takes a particular role, or part, in getting the world’s work done. And one of the ways of loving our neighbor, as well as self, is to do our work for him honestly. One of the basic ways of serving God is to build a portion of his Kingdom where we work.

There are certain privileges which go with our duties, which help us do our job well. These privileges are not just mirrors to enable us to enjoy our own appearance! They are part of the tools of our job. A man is not just simply “Jones.” He is supervisor of production on the second floor of the button factory; or he is operator of number 4 machine; or he is doctor, corporal, professor, principal, or something!

Most of us have some kind of prestige value. We are proficient in our craft or trade or profession. We represent a good company; or a large one, or both. We are with a paratroop outfit, or the fire department, or the Law firm of Smith, Brown and McGoosey, or teacher of geography at Gringle high school, or secretary of the junior class. We come from an honorable family: son of a well-known millwright; daughter of Justice Redby; cousin of Dr. Smith.

All of this is as it should be and must be. But there is danger to our focus in it. We get to thinking that our rank, or title, or relationship is indelibly impressed upon our personal being, to be vigorously worn so that others may be impressed. If we were turned out in a strange city, flat broke, now and then, it would be a sober reminder that our status is related to our service.

This “seeing ourselves too large” may be related to money. Most of us are a sort of channel through which our income proceeds to our creditors. But, now and again, some of us, perhaps by diligence, insight or providence, get a few dollars ahead. This can lead to a giddy feeling, like that of the fellow described in the Bible who congratulated himself thus: “Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many days,” [Luke 12: 19] and proceeded to fix himself up quite a time with it.

Yet anybody, who thinks on it a bit, can quickly see that money, and savings, are the mark of one’s trust for, and dependence on, others. When the workers of today will pay back in goods and effort and skill the contribution of yesterday, that is ground for humble thanks. That is recognition of actual interdependence.

Whatever be the cause, we get to seeing ourselves too large. And the seriousness of this tendency is expressed in the observation: “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” What is the cure? What brings us back into focus?

It is to live in the presence of Almighty God, so that we see ourselves beside Him and His greatness and goodness and purity.

Several years ago, a group of summer school students at the University of Wisconsin went to look through a telescope one starry night. I was one of them. The observatory scientist had focused the telescope on a certain star, and the clock-controlled mechanism held it on that particular star long enough for each of us to see the star through the eye-piece. We were not told how many miles away that star is from the earth. Possibly there would not be room on the blackboard to write out all those digits. We were reminded how fast light travels, and were encouraged to understand how far light could travel in a year. Then we were told how many light years away was that star. For the light of that star which we received through the telescope eye piece that night had started from the star toward us many years ago! Some of us felt almost breathless when we tried to imagine the distance involved! And all of us felt indescribably small.

“When I look at thy heavens, the work of thy fingers,” says the Psalmist [8: 3,4] “the moon and the stars which thou hast established; what is man that thou are mindful of him, and the son of man, that thou dost care for him?”

When we see ourselves too large, we can at least stand out in the yard at night and look up. When we become pleased with our little goodness, we can compare it with God’s ability and purity. We live out our days in the presence of One who is so overwhelmingly great and good that the very thought of Him puts us back into proper focus.

Jesus, in a simple story, commented to his disciples: “If any one wants to be first, he must be last of all, and servant of all.” [Mark 9: 35]. And Paul spoke very plainly to the Roman Christians: “I bid every one of you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment.” [Romans 12: 3].

Well, that is half of the story -- that we sometimes see ourselves too large.

The other half is this: sometimes we see ourselves too small. We get the notion that what we do, or say, doesn’t count nor amount to very much. We think we can not bear to see ourselves so small as we appear in our moments of despair. We sometimes get unduly discouraged. A seemingly senseless storm in Ohio or Minnesota sweeps away a town or a suburb and we think human life is pretty small after all.

Parents are pleased and proud over their healthy, promising children. But some are discouraged and beaten down by reverses in their children. A child became ill with a malady that produced unconsciousness for 4 years. It was enough to knock out some parents. But these folks went ahead and had a birthday party by the child’s bed, anyway, just on the chance that some awareness might be getting through. How much can a parent bear?

There are those who say that every joy is half pain. The joy of family unity in a reunion is countered by the pain of separation. Or it is countered by disappointment when one of the members falls below his capabilities? Probably there is no such neat balance between joy and pain. But it is a fact that some sorrows and losses leave us with a load of grief that we feel is beyond our ability to bear. We get too small for the load.

Or we see ourselves as too small for the load of work looming ahead. When the job is so great, what can I hope to do? We say, “I’m tired of working and working. I don’t even get credit for what I’ve done!”

Well, this mood needs a cure. Sometimes one can cheer up by main force. Or one can often discipline himself to throw off self-pity. Most of us have no idea how much we can take --- and it is more than we think. Sometimes a new interest gives vitality to work.

But there is something better; and that is, again, to live consciously in the presence of Almighty God, so that we see ourselves beside Him in his greatness, his goodness, his purity, his strength.

A fellow named Daniel had some of this to do. You can read about him in the Bible book of Daniel [6: 10 ff]. He had quite a testing. The king over his people wanted him to eat certain food that he was sure would fit him up like a prize athlete. Daniel was sure it was wrong for him to eat that food because it had been offered before idols. So he refused, even though he could have been severely punished for his refusal.

There came a time when the king thought he saw some handwriting on the wall during a riotous feast. Daniel was brought in to interpret for the king. He told the king frankly that it meant his days of ruling were numbered, that his kingdom would fall apart, divided among the Medes and the Persians. --- Not an easy thing to tell a king!

Courtiers were so angry with Daniel that they persuaded the king to have Daniel thrown in the lion’s den to be eaten by the hungry beasts. And Daniel stood up to all these things --- because he lived his life in the presence of the Almighty.

We are not too small, because our God is able. He put us here for a purpose, and the gates of hell are not strong enough to defeat the purpose of God.

There will be plenty to do when we undertake to perform His will in the building of our school, our marriage and home, our church (not just the house, but the body of Christ), our community and state. Trouble will be real and plentiful. We shall get tired. But we are not alone!

The Psalmist helped to bring the small side of our nature back into focus when he had first asked, “What is man that thou dost care for him?” [Psalm 8: 4] and then continued: “Yet thou hast made him little less than God, and dost crown him with glory and honor,” [Psalm 8: 5] with power over a great deal of God’s creation. “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is thy name in all the earth!” [Psalm 8: 9].

One of the grand reassurances of our Master, Jesus Christ, is his certain assurance, “Lo, I am with you always”.... [Matthew 28: 20b] .... “See, I am with you always.”

Another time he remarked: “Do not fear those who can kill the body but can not kill the soul --- Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground without your Father’s will.” Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered and known in His sight! Fear not, therefore, “You are of more value than many sparrows.” [Matthew 10:28-31]

Too small for my job? Too weak for this temptation, or trial, or burden? No, we are here children of God so long as he gives us breath. And even when we no longer have mortal breath, we are still His own. That helps to bring us back into focus.

There is a “right size” for each of us; for all of us. And the thing that brings us to right focus is to remember that God is with us, and we are His.

1) We Christians should never become puffed up in pride. We know the human race and our place in it too well to risk getting haughty about it. And when we are tempted to see ourselves too large, let us remember God.

2) We Christians ought never to consent to drop into depths of terror or despair, nor suffocate in discouragement. When the burden grows, the shock comes, the temptation plagues us to feel ourselves too small, let us remember God.

Now, and in the days ahead of us, may we remember that the presence of Almighty God is very near to us. For it is in the light of His presence that we see our true size.

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Dates and places delivered:

Wisconsin Rapids, May 31, 1959

Wisconsin Rapids, May 30, 1965