I’m not as #blessed as them.
It’s a hard pill to swallow when unhealthy comparison enters the church.
But if we struggle with how our lives measure up the other six days of the week, what makes us believe that an hour on Sunday morning will be different? The church is not a magical four-wall barrier to our fallen nature. The church walls serve as a hospital, there to care for the broken. That means you and me. So of course comparison slides itself into the pews. There’s a bunch of sinners sitting in them.
Unhealthy comparison in the church looks like this -
I tithe more…
I pray more…
I fast more…
I come more often…
and I don’t even have it that well.
Peter is my favorite disciple of Jesus. He’s flawed, he gets really intense about righteousness but has been known to run when it counts the most, he falters on his identity. He’s just so human. I can relate.
In John 21:21-22, we even see him struggle with personal comparison to another disciple. In this moment, Jesus and Peter have been through A LOT. And it seems Peter has finally settled on his true identity found only in Jesus. From deep grace Peter learns that through all his faults, no matter what, Jesus loves him anyway.
His soul is finally settled, right?
But still he looks back at John who’s following them closely behind and asks Jesus, “What about him?”
Peter wants to know how his life will compare to “the disciple Jesus loved.” Jesus’ response is basically - Don’t worry about what I give to John or want for his life. Keep your eyes only on me.
And there it is. As responsible disciples, we want to know our good behavior is getting us somewhere. We want manmade justice.
We feel good when we’re in those close moments with Jesus, moments when joy consumes our soul, when we have times of complete security in how loved we are. And then our God-bubble gets popped, and we look across the aisle at someone who appears more #blessed than us and wonder silently in our souls, “What gives, Jesus?”
When we struggle with how much more people in the church have than us, it means our eyes have wandered in the wrong direction.
One of the hardest things we’ll wrestle with is the immense depth of God’s grace across the whole world. We’ll wonder why those who’ve hurt us still seem to have God’s favor. We’ll wonder why some people sitting next to us just seem to have it all.
Personal comparison in the church shifts our focus from a good God to a mindset of envy wrapped in exaggeration and speculation. And envy distorts reality, making people seem happier and more successful than they really are.
I feel like if we were to ask Jesus that same question, he would look at us just like he did with Peter, and say - Why are you taking your eyes off of me? You have no idea what I’m about to do in your life.
You want to know how blessed you really are? Try leaning in a little longer to the one you feel you don’t measure up to. Learn more about the reality of each other’s lives. Because that leads to a strong bond over brokenness.
Comparison loves to tell us other people have it figured out. Reality tells us we’re all searching for completeness.
love,
vanessa