The Worth of One

A wise man named Sir Laffy Taffy once posed this question and answer:  How do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time.

I was reminded of that question as I pondered the challenge we heard from Nathan Kollar on Sunday morning.  See, there’s a problem that I have become aware of in myself — a problem I’m sure many of you have encountered, as well.  This problem is called paralysis justified by scale (a term I made up just now, as I typed it).  Perhaps an example will be helpful.

Several months ago, Anna and I were enjoying a nice dinner out in Corktown.  As we exited the restaurant, we passed a grizzled man huddled on a doorstep, clearly not dressed properly for the bitter cold of this particular evening.  He asked if we could spare a few dollars, and I replied with my near-reflexive response of, “Oh I’m sorry man, I don’t carry any cash.”  I’ve learned that this is a great way to shut down these interactions and not put myself in a position to lie, because truthfully I don’t often carry cash.  So we walked on and my conscience was still intact.  However, as we slid into our car and desperately grabbed at the knobs which would direct heat onto our frozen noses, Anna started to question if we should’ve done something to help.

“Maybe we could go back and buy another burger to give him,” she said. 

I thought about it and replied, “Perhaps if there was a McDonalds nearby or something, but we can’t go buy him a $15 burger from Mercury.  We can’t feel responsible for every homeless guy we see in Detroit.  I’m sure there’s a shelter he could go to if he wanted to.”

And we drove home.

This is a classic example of the issue I mentioned above.  I had used the scale of the problem of city-wide homelessness to justify my inaction to help just that one man on just that one night.  By scaling up the problem to every man, I was able to make it so I didn’t feel so bad about betraying the sense that I should help that man.

I think that somewhere inside of us, we often do this same thing when it comes to sharing the love of Jesus with the world around us.  We have a sense that we should help these people that are a part of our lives by showing them The Way of Christ, but we often scale up the problem to help justify our inaction.  We say things to ourselves like,

“Well, I can’t honestly be expected to be sharing Jesus with EVERYONE around me right?  How would I ever get anything done?”

When you scale the problem of people not knowing Christ to global proportions, of course you’re going to feel like you can’t do anything to make an impact.

But what if we started scaling down the issue instead?  What kind of impact would that make?

The other day Anna and I were walking to our car as a man approached us asking if we could help him with bus fare.  I started to respond in my usual way, but for some reason I felt a shift in my heart. I began to scale the problem down instead of up.  I thought,

“You know, I actually have some cash in my pocket and it’s not going to hurt me any to just give this guy five bucks and help him out.”

So I did and then we went on our way.

I thought about this on Sunday when we were challenged to make sure we are making room in our lives for the lost people around us.  I may not be able to get to know every person in my condo complex, but I bet if I tried I could get to know that one guy I pass on the sidewalk most days.  You might not be able to show the love of Christ to everyone in your workplace, but I bet if you made an effort you could find an opportunity to invest in the person who occupies the cubicle next to yours.

See, I think if we start to scale the problem down to one, we can humanize something that once seemed so daunting and let our hearts be moved to action.  Perhaps Jesus understood this about us when he gave us the parable of the lost sheep.  He didn’t say that the shepherd would give up everything to find every lost sheep in the world, did he?  No.  He simply said that he would give up everything to find the one.

You can’t feed every hungry person, but you can feed one.

You can’t help every friend with a broken marriage find healing, but you can help one.

You can’t mourn with every person in your neighborhood who’s experiencing a crisis, but you can mourn with one.

You can’t invite everyone from your school to dinner, but you can invite one.

You can’t introduce everyone you encounter to your community of loving Christian friends, but you can introduce one.

How do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time.

Written by: Pastor Travis Buerky

Edited by: Tamara Sturdivant