A legend from India tells about a mouse who was terrified of cats until a magician agreed to transform him into a cat. That resolved his fear … until he met a dog, so the magician changed him into a dog. The mouse-turned-cat-turned-dog was content until he met a tiger—so, once again, the magician changed him into what he feared. But when the tiger came complaining that he had met a hunter, the magician refused to help. “I will make you into a mouse again, for though you have the body of a tiger, you still have the heart of a mouse.”
In our society, we’ve become very accustomed to going out and purchasing the things we need. Need a new watch. Go and buy it. Need a new car? You can drive one off the lot today. From the highest tech item to the lowly turnip, if you need it, you can find somewhere to buy it. But what if, instead of being able to buy it, you had to make it or grow it? In the end, you would have a lot less, and there are a good many people who wouldn’t survive.
I forget where I read it, but the speaker gave the example of a fork. He held it up and asked, “Who could make it?” In the end, everyone realized that no one person could. You need someone to mine the ore, smelt the ore, form the iron… down to working with the iron to make the fork. Very few possess the skills or knowledge to accomplish the task. Therefore, we need one another to live and survive. Each must play their part. That’s where the discernment process comes in—identifying who has what skills and what knowledge and where they are best suited. Once discerned, society will put them to work. Therefore, in many cases, it is the society that determines a person’s worth—their value.
If society deems you this quality of person, then you can do this. If they deem you this, then you can do that. Aldus Huxley, in Brave New World, wrote, “A really efficient totalitarian state would be one in which the all-powerful executive of political bosses and their army of managers control a population of slaves who do not have to be coerced because they love their servitude.” Perhaps we don’t live in a totalitarian state, but we can fall into the trap of allowing society to define our value and worth. Once there, it is difficult to become more.
Not only does this play out in the secular world, but it is also true in our life in the Church and with God. Others observe our lives, actions, words, etc.—our entire being—and based on those observations, we are categorized: saint, sinner, backslider, pious, and so on. If you follow all the rules in the book, then you may fall in the saint category, but go out and get a tattoo and drink a little whiskey; well, you might as well be writing your own ticket to hell. In the process of assigning our category, we are also assigned a value in the Christian community. And, as with the secular world, we can fall into a trap—this is what everyone thinks I’m worth, so this must be it. This is as good as I’ll get.
Using the illustration of iron, if you mine and smelt some iron and end up with 1,000 grams (about 2.25 pounds) of steel, you’ll have a steel bar valued at about $100. If you take that 1000 grams and turn it into horseshoes, you will have increased its value to $250. If you took the same amount of steel and turned it into sewing needles, you would have increased its value to $70,000. Turn it into gears and springs for watches—$6M. Use those same 1,000 grams of steel for precision electronics and computers, and you’ll have increased the value of your $100 hunk of metal to $15M.
The world says you and your 1,000 grams of flesh are worth a few horseshoes, and you believe it. And not only do you believe it, you live it. When the same idea is applied to your life with God, you live that too. “I guess if I’m writing a ticket to hell, I might as well write a good one!” Once that frame of mind is set, it tends to stick. The world has defined that person, and that person fulfills the world’s expectations.
St. Paul would refer to the spirit that lives in such a person as the “old man.” In Ephesians, he says that those who live such a life “have become callous and have given themselves up to sensuality, greedy to practice every kind of impurity.” (Ephesians 4:19) We can fall into the trap of the “old man,” and it sticks. Not only does it stick, like those living in Aldus Huxley’s totalitarian state, but even though we may want something different, we love where we are. It is what we know, and it is comfortable.
My friend, Thomas Merton, writes, “For the ‘old man,’ everything is old: he has seen everything or thinks he has. He has lost hope in anything new. What pleases him is the ‘old’ he clings to, fearing to lose it, but he is certainly not happy with it. And so he keeps himself ‘old’ and cannot change: he is not open to any newness. His life is stagnant and futile. And yet, there may be much movement, but change that leads to no change. The more it changes, the more it’s the same…. The old man lives without life. He lives in death.” (March 22)
That is the trap of allowing the world around us to determine our value, and it is a tricky trap to get out of, but what if we dismissed the world’s assessment and allowed Jesus to determine our value? What if we said, “I’m no longer going to be the person that the world wants and expects me to be.” What if we even said, “I’m not going to be limited to the value my friends and family place on me.” What if we said, “I’m going to allow my value to be determined by God. God and only God will decide what this 1,000-gram hunk of flesh is worth.” How, then, would you begin to see yourself? How, then, would you begin to reevaluate your value in light of the fact that Jesus has already determined you are of infinite worth? You can disagree with that if you want. You can say, “I’m not of infinite worth to God.” And I will argue with you, and my first move in that argument will be to point to you Christ on the Cross. I’ll wait for your rebuttal. You are of infinite worth to God… so, there.
The Apostles Simon and Andrew grew up in Bethsaida, which was on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Bethsaida means House of the Fisherman, so given its location and name, it is safe to assume it was a fishing village. Given the nature of that society, it was expected that Simon and Andrew would grow up to be fishermen. The world defined them, determined their value, and they lived into it. It doesn’t mean it was bad; it just was; however, “As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’”
The world had assigned them a value, and then Jesus came along and said, “No. You are of greater value—infinite worth. Follow me, and I will take what little you and everyone else think you are and show you all how wrong you are. Follow me, and I will take the ‘old man’ and transform him into something new.” Jesus said, “The mouse-turned-cat-turned-dog-turned-tiger was returned to its original form because it was a tiger with the heart of a mouse, but I see your true worth; you are a mouse with the heart of a tiger. Follow me and begin to see in yourself what I see in you. Live into it.” What did the disciples do? “Immediately left everything and followed Him.” They left the “old man” behind.
Jesus points to you—each of you—and says, “Follow me.” Step outside of the opinions and value that others have placed on you, allow Jesus to define your worth, and follow Him. In doing so, you’ll discover your infinite worth in the eyes of God, and you will become the person He created you to be.
Let us pray: Lord Jesus Christ, You call us to follow You. Help us to drop our nets and abide in You. We are your disciples, committed to finding the ways that You strengthen our lives. Touch our hearts, enlighten our minds, stir our spirits. Teach us to share the fruits of our faith. Keep us by your side in faith, Lord Jesus. Amen.
Candle in a Cave 