“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rank your pain?” Most of you have probably heard that question in the Dr’s office at one time or another. I hate that question. How am I supposed to compare pain to a line on a paper with a smiley face on one end and a frowny face on the other? Pain might be legitimate, but it is also relative. They don’t know if I have a high tolerance for pain or if I am a bit of a wimp. And on a scale of one to ten, relative to what? I would much rather they ask “How would you rank your pain compared to a paper cut or childbirth?” Then I would at least have something tangible in my memory to compare the current pain to.
I recently had a friend tell me that our family seems to have been going through a lot. I had to ask her, “Compared to what?” Yes, it is true that we have had some challenges. Some things in our life are a mess. But in comparison to a young dad dealing with cancer, an ongoing undiagnosed health problem, a battle with depression, or a loved one in hospice… I’ll keep my own struggles, thank you very much. It might seem like a watered down cliché when we say that God is good all the time, and all the time God is good. But it’s the truth. I decided in my heart a long time ago that God is good. He created everything good. He is working all things for my good. And the current storm that I might face does not negate any of that. The challenge is relative to my confidence in Christ.
We tend to have the mindset that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, but in all honesty, we can always find someone whose lawn is worse than ours too. It’s all a matter of perspective. We see what we want to see. It might be tempting at times to ask “Why me?” But maybe a better question is “Why not me?” Is there anything special about me that should safeguard me from the pains of this fallen world? Is there a promise that I missed? Why do we grab on to the unwritten rule that if we accept Jesus as our Savior an umbrella will be placed over our life to deflect any problems that might come our way? I am at a loss to think of any person in the Bible that could be the poster child for a life of ease.
But Paul seems to have gotten this perspective thing figured out. In Philippians 3 he gives an impressive resume of his spiritual credentials: a legitimate birth, circumcised on the eighth day, an Israelite from the elite tribe of Benjamin, a strict and devout adherent to God’s law, and a fiery defender of the purity of his religion—even to the point of persecuting the church. But he goes on to say that all of those things, when compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus, are a loss… garbage… rubbish… worthless… sewage… dog dung. Relatively speaking, his former pedigree and way of life are despicable and disgusting compared to gaining Christ and being found in Him! Would you qualify your character and heritage as despicable? That maybe depends on what or who you are comparing yourself to. If we compare ourselves to others and to the law, we might not look so bad, but when we compare ourselves to the perfection of Jesus Christ, we see the filthiness of our own reflection.
In a recent survey, I was asked to rank my spiritual life between some of these choices: 1) I am not a Christian and am not interested in exploring what that means; 2) I consider myself a Christian, though my faith is not a significant part of my life; 3) I believe in God, but I’ve not yet made a decision to commit to having a relationship with Jesus Christ; 4) I have a solid relationship with Christ that makes a difference in my life; 5) I have an intimate relationship with Christ that influences my daily life; 6) Christ is the most important relationship in my life. As I pondered the choices, I wanted to answer with the highest ranking, but was convicted that the evidence of my life doesn’t always match up to that statement.
So how would you rank your spiritual life? Could it be that the level of importance of your relationship with Christ is relative to your understanding of what he has done for you. I pray that all of us could say that our past way of life—however holy or ugly it may seem—is detestable compared to the life we have found in Christ.
Erin Jacobsma