Compare and Contrast

Below is my Montgomery Advertiser article for November.

“He who dies with the most toys wins!” I saw this slogan on a bumper sticker the other day. I remember seeing it quite a bit about ten years ago when the economy was better, but I haven’t seen it as much lately. It’s a humorous statement relating to people and their toys—an offshoot of the joke, saying the difference between men and boys is the price of their toys. The person who has accumulated the most non-essential things in life wins. In order to be the best, you have to have the most stuff. Nice clothes. Nice house. Nice car. Blah. Blah. Blah.

It reminds me that some things, even in difficult times, don’t change. The human animal loves to compete. We always want to compare our lives and the blessings we have with those of others. We often do this by making life a race and looking ahead, or over our shoulder to see which neighbor is more successful, or which one we are outpacing. It sets the stage for a life of comparisons and gives new meaning to the term “rat race.” It can also strip the joy out of life and instead of gratitude for what we have we are left with the hollow feeling that there has to be more. We look for new life in the next thing only to find when we arrive that it is just a little farther down the road – just a little more of whatever it is we think, or the world tells us, we want.

Some comparisons are good and help us make important decisions. Others are filled with idle speculation and ultimately put roadblocks in life’s path. We often allow negative comparisons to influence our lives and relationships. Even the holidays are not exempt from the practice. We barely finish comparing this year’s Thanksgiving feast to last year’s before we look around to determine whose Christmas party or decorations are the best and how we measure up.
The negative comparisons can have serious implications for our lives. They can make us feel unworthy and unloved: “How can anyone love me when I am not like this or that?” Insecurities can leave us with a feeling of self-righteousness: “Look at what I do, compared to others.” These comparisons can also paralyze us: “Why even try to change since nothing ever seems to roll my way and I can never hope to be like that?”

Jesus warns us about comparisons. He tells the story in Luke’s gospel of a Pharisee and a tax collector going to the temple to pray. The Pharisee enjoyed great respect as a man of religion in his society, while the tax collector was commonly loathed and considered dishonest.

As the Pharisee prayed, he started comparing his life to that of the tax collector. “God, I thank you that I am not like other men – robbers, evildoers, adulterers – or even like this tax collector.” (Luke 18:11). Blinded by his own life, he talked to God about himself as he thought of all that he was and did. The tax collector made no comparisons but simply prayed, “God have mercy on me a sinner.” (Luke 18:13). He recognized his need for God and God’s place as the source of all blessings.

When we make comparisons, we turn in on ourselves, and the light inside us dims. When we receive negative comparisons either from others or those of our own making, they inhibit us in action and relationship.

This Thanksgiving, let’s pause and give God thanks for the blessings and bounty of life. At the end of the day, when our time on this earth is over, we can’t take any of those toys or accolades we wanted to win with us. Let’s look at ourselves, and those around us, not with the eyes of the world, but with those of Jesus Christ. And as we do, let’s remember that we, and that includes everyone, are children of the living God, created in His image, whether we are large, small or in between. God’s hand is on us as we walk into the world. When we are tempted to join the rat race of unhelpful comparisons keep in mind that we are blessed with the one gift that matters and the only one that truly leads to life.