The animated Disney film begins with a black screen. In the darkness, one voice says, “Speed. I am speed.” And then the darkness is broken as race cars whiz by. Soon you meet the owner of the voice, Lightning McQueen, the arrogant race car who could be the first rookie to win the Piston Cup. Already having fired several pit crew chiefs, Lightning McQueen’s goal is to win, at any cost.
The apostle Paul’s goal had been similar: to win the race of righteousness at any cost. In chapter three of his letter to the church at Philippi, Paul lists his credentials, which, today, might include degrees from Oxford and Harvard, no arrests, and no smoking marijuana. “But,” Paul says, “Whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ.” Credentials, self-righteousness—whatever was in the profit column has been moved over to the loss column because the “surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus” outweighed anything that he used to consider worthwhile. All of that old stuff can be towed to the dump on the Waste Line Express. It’s nothing but “rubbish.”
How can Paul say that? How can nothing matter to him anymore except knowing and following Jesus Christ? How could he give up his power and reputation to help others know about Jesus’ power and love? Paul had learned that value is not always where it appears.
Thirty years ago, the farm house built by my great-grandfather was a wreck. When my mom inherited it, termites had eaten up through some of the walls. Former renters, who couldn’t afford anything better, had treated it as if it was worthless. Weeds from the yard were growing up the chimney and then back down into the living room. The dining room floor sloped at a grade that would be dangerous for truckers. In one bedroom, it looked like someone would sit in bed on one side of the room drinking beer and then toss the empty cans across the room through the huge hole in the drywall. It would be uncouth of me to tell you what we found tossed inside the hole in the ceiling.
Still, through the years, my parents have installed a shower, painted the house inside and out, and replaced drywall, windows, and even porches. Any appraiser would say it’s not worth saving, but there is value in that old house. Besides the memories, including the one where Dad picked up Mom for their first date, it has been a great place for family gatherings. At the farm house, one can rest and read and watch the blue birds and the cows. It has value beyond efficiency, productivity, and money.
Lent demands that the Christian Church face the way we value speed over rest, fear over peace, money over people, reputation over truth, scarcity over abundance, and spiritual death over life. Passion Week beckons us to deeply and honestly re-examine our values.
Back to the animated film, “Cars”: Lightning McQueen learns that Doc, the gruff town mechanic, had won three Piston Cups decades before, and now the cups were in his garage, holding tools or gathering dust. “It’s “nothing but an empty cup,” Doc says. Later, as Lightning McQueen is on the verge of winning this year’s Piston Cup, he gives up the victory to help his stranded competitor. When this competitor gasps, “You just gave up the Piston Cup,” Lightning repeats Doc’s comment, that “it’s nothing but an empty cup.” His values had changed.
In what do you find profit? A clean house? Efficiency? Perfection? Knowledge? Might we find, if we look, that the things we valued are “nothing but an empty cup”? Everything else is “loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus [our] Lord.”
Donna Hopkins Britt is pastor of Calvary Baptist Church, 608 Campbell Avenue, SW, Roanoke, web site, calvaryroanoke.org.