What's It Worth to You?

"You are of more value than many sparrows." Remember that. Those are Jesus’ words to you. Words of comfort and reassurance. Words placed here in Matthew’s gospel to strengthen and support early Christians who were facing persecution, perhaps even death for their faith. "You are of more value than many sparrows." Well, I should hope so. But it does beg the question: How much more value? How much more value than how many sparrows? Three? A dozen? A hundred? Two sparrows are sold for a penny, Matthew says.  This same passage occurs in Luke’s gospel. In Luke Jesus says, "Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows." Evidently in Jesus’ day sparrows were sold in the markets for food. Two for a penny in Matthew; five for two pennies in Luke—a bulk discount. But we are of more value than many sparrows. We must be worth at least a dollar or two.

What is a human life worth? When we ask the question that way, in a broad, philosophical form, I expect everyone would answer that the worth of a human life cannot be measured. It is wrong to try to value or quantify the worth of human life in any way. Every human life is full of infinite worth. We would never presume to assign worth to human life. Do you know that no one who receives blood through a medical procedure (at least in this country) is charged for that blood? They most certainly may be billed for the packaging it comes in, the process by which it is purified, the transfusion procedure itself and who knows what else, but there is no charge for the blood. Within the context of overall health care costs, this may seem like an insignificant technicality, but I think it is a telling detail, pointing to our deep conviction that no price may be put upon the gift of life. The value or worth of human life cannot be quantified.

And yet, of course, we do assign worth to human lives, valuing some more than others. This is not going to be a sermon on social justice, although it could be. There is a great deal to be said about the un-Christian ways in which we devalue many particular human lives. That’s another sermon. This is a sermon more about how each of us assigns value to our own lives. And we do that, too. All the time. In our own minds, in our own guts, we judge the value of our own lives.

How do you determine your own worth, your value as a human being? What process do you use? What standard of measure do you use? I started swimming competitively when I was six or seven years old. For those of us who are naturally competitive, it is almost inevitable that we assign higher worth to whomever wins. We see our selves as better people, worth more, if we win. Alternatively, we are worth less if we lose. Competition with others becomes the standard of measure. We measure ourselves against others. Competition is not bad in and of itself, but it is a poor standard by which to measure human value.

I watched most of the final college World Series game yesterday. I probably would have watched even if Texas hadn’t been in it; I have liked baseball ever since I used to listen to Jack Buck announce St. Louis Cardinal games on the radio back in the mid-70’s. Watching the college kids play, I was reminded of the Little League World Series, which I also usually watch. Twelve year olds. Every year I watch it and every year it upsets me to see how consuming winning has become for those young boys and how devastating losing is. I don’t know specifically whose fault it is, and I’m not talking about local Little League games up here at Hadlock field in Brewer. But for those kids who make it to the Little League World Series and a national TV audience, to lose is to lose everything. Look at their faces when they lose.  Their faces are not just sad or disappointed when they lose; they are desperate, fearful.  Fearful.

We would never place a price on human life, but we value winners more than losers. Twelve year olds know that.

There are other ways you might measure your own worth. Perhaps it is not in competition or comparison to others. Many people measure their self-worth by some specific criteria, some set of accomplishments. For some people, certainly, their worth as human beings is measured by their net financial worth. Or maybe the yardstick is marked, not in dollars, but in job title, or educational status. Maybe you see greater worthiness in yourself if you can achieve some purity of principal. Or by productiveness or creativity. Why are those of us who are not spic and span housekeepers so defensive about it? At some level we accept the assumption that neatness marks a better person. Or perhaps your standard for measuring a life is whether it is lived in service to others. The first shall be last and the last shall be first, after all.

A lot of us measure our own worth based upon what others tell us we are worth. Or what we think others think of us, even if they don’t actually say it. Criticism by some one else, whether spoken, implied or even just imagined, causes our sense of our own worth to plummet. So we yearn for praise so that our value may rise again.

How do you measure your own worth. What, for you, makes your life valuable, worthwhile? Amid all of these standards of measure which one do you look to to tell you what you are worth?

Any measure of worth is wrong. Any standard or criterion that is quantifiable is wrong. Any understanding of human worth that has the potential to go up or down is wrong. Which is why this is also not a sermon about self-esteem, although it may sound like it is. Self-esteem is a good thing, and let us pray that parents, society, psychiatrists can build a healthy self-esteem in everyone. But self-esteem is something that can be built and measured. Human value has no measure. Each and every human being is worthy beyond measure in God’s eyes. We could not possibly be worth more; we could not possibly be worth less. No matter who we are, what we do or think or feel or say. Our worth in God’s eyes is beyond measure.

We know that. At some level we know that. That’s why we don’t put a price on a pint of blood. No matter who gives it; no matter who receives it. Our worth, as children beloved of God, is beyond measure. We know that. Why is it so hard to remember? Why is it so hard to live our lives, daily, in grateful recognition of our infinite worth before God? How can we better hear God’s voice of unconditional, immeasurable love over and above all of the other voices in our heads and in the world that seek to put a measure on who we are?

Well, certainly one of the best places to hear God’s voice is in the Word of the Lord, given to us in Holy Scripture. Have you ever asked yourself: What is the purpose of Scripture? In a nutshell, why do we have the Bible? Why does God bother to share God’s word with us? Because we are worth it. Because God wants us to know, not who God is, but who we are. In one way or another, every single word of Holy Scripture speaks to our unconditional value in God’s eyes.

"In the beginning…" The creation stories in Genesis are not there to tell us how God created the earth or to illustrate God’s skill as a creator. They are there to tell us that we are worthy of our place in God’s glorious creation.  And that we are created in nothing less than God's own image.

Psalm 42: "As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God." Read the psalms as poetry of a relationship—a relationship with some struggle, but also with great joy and all-consuming love. We are offered a place in such a relationship with God.  That's what the psalms tell us.

Or, of course, there’s Paul. This week’s reading from Romans. Or perhaps even better, last week’s. "While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for us." We are worth dying for. That’s what we’re worth.

Karl Barth was a giant figure in Biblical interpretation. His commentary on the Book of Romans is arguably the most important work written to date about the meaning of Holy Scripture. But it’s pretty heavy going. He devotes 6 ½ pages to just this morning’s passage from Romans. Written originally in German, here's a sample in translation: "Sin is an invisible negative occurrence encountered by God and in Him. That—by the trespass of the one the many died—is wholly congruous with this occurrence; that is to say, it is congruous that the negative relation between God and man should assume concrete form in Adam’s world and also among men." (I have the book if anyone wants to borrow it.)  Someone once asked Barth what his deepest insight was after all of his study of Holy Scripture. How would he characterize or sum up the totality of his life’s work? Barth is said to have replied: "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so."

We are worth more than many sparrows. We are worthy of God’s unconditional and immeasurable love. We are worth dying for.  In each and every word, the Bible tells us so.

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