“My brothers and sisters, show no partiality

as you adhere to the faith in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ.

For if a man with gold rings and fine clothes

comes into your assembly,

and a poor person in shabby clothes also comes in,

and you pay attention to the one wearing the fine clothes

and say, ‘Sit here, please,’

while you say to the poor one, ‘Stand there,’ or ‘Sit at my feet,’

have you not made distinctions among yourselves

and become judges with evil designs?”

In an attempt to describe (and sometimes tame) the ethos of my family history, particularly on my dad’s side of the family, through the years I have come up with a number of “Shoonerisms” that succinctly put into words those family influences. One of them is this: you don’t have to be the best, you only have to do your best, but if you do your best, you will be the best. I won’t try to unpack the whole thing (like contradiction, competitiveness, comparison, or conceit), but there is within it both a commitment to a passionate pursuit of excellence and an inherent belief in family exceptionalism. Do your best. Be the best. I didn’t grow up with wealth, but I did have love, sacrifice for my good, and opportunity. I was also blessed with some smarts and found high school academics fairly easy (this would change in college). I was the valedictorian, which, in all honesty, I savored, but I also had influences that better grounded me. I clearly remember the conscious thought at the time that no matter how good or bad I was at something, there would always be people who were better or worse than me in that area or with that talent and, also, that there were other areas of skill or achievement which would reshuffle the order. Despite that, I found my own personal value in achievement and the potential for what I could achieve. I had big goals and the expectation that I would reach those goals. My estimation of my own worth and worthiness depended on it. 

Then, I encountered divine love. It was a journey, but step by step, in powerful and profound and small and intimate ways, I experienced the freedom of being loved by God. It is good news, the gospel, that God loves us without limit. The Father made us, the Son redeemed us, and the Spirit empowers us. God is for us. Our dignity is that of the daughters and sons of God, not based on anything we have done, but upon who God is and what God has done. Achievement and potential are good things, properly ordered to God’s love. We are indeed blessed to be a blessing. Our value or worth, however, are set by God. We are priceless in his sight. More precisely, we are of infinite worth. God gave everything he had to give just for us, for every one of us. We are of equal unlimited value to God. In the Air Force, where rank, authority, decorum, and structure predominate, I was given a poignant and practical example of this reality. At my first duty assignment, a Colonel came to a Bible study and everyone stood as he was greeted with, “Welcome, Colonel,” and “Hello, Sir.” He responded, “I appreciate that, but in here, I’m just Bob.” In the sight of God, we are brothers and sisters together on the journey of discipleship with Jesus. All of us, whoever we are, are loved by God and called to go deeper in that love. That kind of love is freedom. It is the freedom to be who we are and to take the next step in who we are becoming. It is all grace.