No Comparison

This week I read a couple articles that got me thinking about how we perceive ourselves and others. From the minute we’re born (or even before), we are compared to a standard and ranked according to percentiles in height, weight, and who knows what else. Will he be tall like his dad, or short like mom?

Starting preschool or school brings more comparisons, and not just in terms of achievements and tests. Little kids observe one another to find out what they have in common. Does she like to play with horses or read books? Commonalities serve as a basis for friendship, but they also create segregation. Where there is a lack of connection, a child, adolescent, or adult will often jump to one of two conclusions: there’s something wrong with me, or there’s something wrong with you.

I thought about some of the percentiles I fall into— 2% here, 10% there, 60% in that area. Some of those are good, some not so good. Some I would change if I could. It’s easy to look around and envy those who are different, or to feel like an anomaly because I am in the minority in many categories. But God called me to this life, not to that one. He allowed every gene, every circumstance, every heartache, and every opportunity that made me who I am today. But I don’t get a reprieve from the Great Commission just because I’m an introvert. I also don’t get to overlook people just because they aren’t like me.

Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians, “Only let each person lead the life that the Lord has assigned to him and to which God has called him” (7:17 ESV). “But take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak” (8:9). It is comfortable to hang around with people who are just like us, but it can also be detrimental to the Body of Christ. If we focus on external similarities, we may miss the opportunity to find that we are brothers and sisters at heart. The unity that comes from Christ should far outweigh any unity that comes from biology or experience.

Our culture makes it hard to really know people. We are constantly told that we need to act a certain way, wear the right clothes, and never let anyone see our weaknesses. That gives us the appearance of external uniformity, but prevents the true unity that grows out of humility and authenticity. The church is not immune to this type of hypocrisy. Most people dress up for church (to varying degrees), act differently, and maybe clean up their language around church people. It can be a challenge to let others see behind the façade, or to remember that others may not be what they seem either. I am often reminded that authentic community is started by the example of one person taking a risk. Depth of relationships can’t come about any other way.

Take a risk; I dare you!

“When they measure themselves by one another and compare themselves with one another, they are without understanding” (2 Corinthians 10:12b).

© 2016 Dawn Rutan. 

No Comparison

I’m finally getting back to routine after a couple weeks of convention chaos, and so I thought I’d borrow an idea from Rev. Clio Thomas’s sermon “Everybody Has Something.” We all have some challenge we’re trying to cope with. Each one is different in type, complexity, and our response to it.

Some book I read recently made the point that it doesn’t make any sense for us to compare our burdens with one another. Yes, some others may look larger or smaller than ours, but that doesn’t mean they are any more or less important. Comparison only tends to lead to either pride or shame. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard someone say, “I can’t complain, there are people far worse off than I am.” I would hope that people who say that are honestly praising God in the midst of their burdens, but from what I’ve seen, that is often not the case. Many are subconsciously saying, “I’m ashamed that I can’t handle this and I don’t want to ask for help.” (Been there, done that.)

It doesn’t really matter how our burden compares with someone else’s. It may be physical, emotional, relational, spiritual, or occupational. It may be urgent or chronic, temporary or permanent. The thing we need to remember is that if it matters to us, it matters to God. He told us to cast all our cares on Him because He cares for us (1 Peter 5:7), not just the ones that are big enough to count or are comparatively bigger than the average of others’ burdens.

We’re also told to “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2 ESV). That’s not easy to do if we’re busy judging one another and comparing burdens. We’ve probably all been told that too much of our prayer time is occupied with physical needs of people. But what that means is not that we should not pray for the physical, but that we should increase the amount of time spent praying for other types of needs as well. If we took this seriously, we would all be praying a lot more.

As we seek to love and serve one another in the Body of Christ, the only comparison that should come to mind is God’s greatness and love toward His weak and sinful children who are totally undeserving of His care and compassion.

“What is man that You are mindful of him, and the son of man that You care for him?” (Psalm 8:4).

“You have multiplied, O Lord my God, Your wondrous deeds and Your thoughts toward us; none can compare with You! I will proclaim and tell of them, yet they are more than can be told” (Psalm 40:5).