Baby Shoe Reminders

February 1st, 2006
Matthew 19: 16-22
Another day, a man stopped Jesus and asked, "Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?"

Jesus said, "Why do you question me about what’s good? God is the One who is good. If you want to enter the life of God, just do what he tells you."

The man asked, "What in particular?"

Jesus said, "Don’t murder, don’t commit adultery, don’t steal, don’t lie, honor your father and mother, and love your neighbor as you do yourself."

The young man said, "I’ve done all that. What’s left?"

"If you want to give it all you’ve got," Jesus replied, "go sell your possessions; give everything to the poor. All your wealth will then be in heaven. Then come follow me." That was the last thing the young man expected to hear. And so, crestfallen, he walked away. He was holding on tight to a lot of things, and he couldn’t bear to let go.

When's the last time you've seen your baby shoes? If you have them, dig 'em out. Put them up against your feet and see how tiny you really were! What were your thoughts at that point in your existence? What was important to you? What was most valuable to you?

My baby shoes are among the things I consider to be my most valuable possessions. I remember so many of my most valuable possessions: my stuffed Tony the Tiger and Dapper Dan, my Hong Kong Phooey lunch box, my orange banana-seat "Clean Machine" bike, a Boy Scout survival knife, two banners from different bands I was in, my stamp collection, my songs that I've written, my drawings, cartoons, and paintings, and my leather-bound, collector's copies of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. Some of these are still my most prized possessions. I've added a few: my miniature version of the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo, a spork (long story...ask me sometime in person), and my baby shoes which my mom just gave back to me a few years ago.

My Hong Kong Phooey lunch box eventually became worn with use and we threw it away. I outgrew my Clean Machine. Tony the Tiger went the way of the trash after many years of sitting in a closet. And Dapper Dan was left behind at the doctor's office when I was about 4 years old. We went back for it, alas and forsooth, it was nowhere to be found. I still have my Boy Scout Knife, the band banners, my stamps, my songs and artwork, the Tolkien books, my Mystery Machine, Spork, and my baby shoes.

In all honesty, I'd rather not get rid of any of these possessions. In so many ways, they define me. They define who I am, who I was, and from where I've come. They tell stories. They are part of my story. And yet, even if, like Dapper Dan and Tony the Tiger, these things are left behind, my story still continues. I am still me. I am no less me without these things. But I still like holding on to them as reminders. Especially these cute little baby shoes. I can't believe my feet used to be this size. And yet, here they are, physical proof of this part of my life. These now jaded feet, used to kick and wiggle about in these little shoes. Imagine. These shoes are a reminder of the steps I took so long ago down the path that is my life. And all of these other things: stamps, books, songs, toys—continue to tell the story detailing other steps I've taken along my way.

There are other things I have, not possessions, but they're a part of me in so many ways: my wife, my children, my friends, and my church. And I'd rather not give up any of these things either. They're important to me. Again, they are a part of the story that is me. Talk to my wife, and you learn pieces of my story. Watch my children at play, and see the echoes of my own childhood.

In the passage of Scripture from the story of Jesus' life as told by Matthew the Tax Collector, we see an extraordinarily wealthy young man, coming to find out how to obtain the precious commodity of eternal life. I imagine this man, like everything else in his life, figured eternal life was something to be acquired as he was so used to doing. He sees Jesus talking to a crowd. He's heard the rumors: "He offers eternal life." And so our rich young man figures that Jesus is the broker with whom he needs to deal to work out the acquisition. In words which sound an awful lot like "How much is it for eternal life?" the rich young man asks what it will cost him. He's thinking in monetary terms. He's thinking that a certain dollar amount can be reached and he will simply have to produce the funds, and the deal will be done. However, he's not prepared for the price Jesus quotes him.

"Hey fella, you want eternal life? Okay, I believe I can acquire some for you. But it's going to cost you!" says Jesus.

"Okay, how much?" asks the rich young man.

"Every last penny in your possession." says Jesus.

Imagine the reaction. Imagine how you'd feel. Because I know the things which are most precious to me. And I know the heartache I would feel to have to give them all up. Because isn't that what Jesus is really asking him? "What's most precious to you?"

The young man replies that his wealth is most precious to him.

So Jesus says, "Give it all away. Every bit of it."

The man thinks Jesus is crazy. He stands there with his mouth hanging open, saying "Jesus, you're nuts!" But he's blinded by his own insecurity. He finds security and control in his wealth. And he has no clue that security and control found in anything other than Jesus is but an illusion. So our young wealthy man, trudges off to muddle with his own thoughts. I like to think that he wrestled with this long and hard. I like to that at some point, he realized the wisdom of what Jesus was saying and came back to follow Him. But you know, Jesus didn't think he would. He said it'd be easier for someone to ride a camel through the eye of a needle than for our young wealthy man to come by eternal life. Ouch!

As a child, it was so much easier to let go of things precious to me. When I was about five or six years old, I looked at the things I held to be most dear to me and decided that I would give my most valuable item to Jesus for a birthday present. It was my Tonka toy car. I put it in the mail box with a little Happy Birthday note. It was simpler then. Life seemed a lot more clear to me. Less variables. Less information. Less complication. If Jesus told me as a child, that I'd get to hang out with Him forever if only I'd give up my Dapper Dan or my Tonka car then heck, I would have given 'em up in heartbeat.

But now, it's not so easy. Now, I weigh my choices. I do cost/benefit analyses on such decisions. I think about things and discuss them. I weigh in all of the variables. I obtain more information. I do a careful web-search and look at the latest issue of Consumer Reports to find out more so I can make an informed decision. And in the end, I'm still left with the same insecurities and control issues our hero, the rich young man was left to wrestle with.

Just before our story of the rich young man, we see Jesus talking with some kids who busted through His armed guard to talk with their Friend. Jesus tells everyone there that they must become like these very children to enter Heaven. And so I sit here, looking at my baby-shoe-reminders of yesteryear and a light shines forth from the darkness and I nod my head knowingly. Children tend to see things a lot more clearly, I think. To them, the choice of giving up your money to be with Jesus is a huge "Duh!" They know the fun they're going to have with Him. And they know His games are far better than the ones their money will buy.

It says in Matthew 5:3 "You're blessed when you've lost what's most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you."

Jesus knew, that for the wealthy young man to follow Him, he'd need to give up that which was most dear to him. For most of us, we'll never have to face the actual act of doing so. But our willingness to give up that which is most precious to us is a good barometer of our "follower-ship" of Jesus. For, as long as we clutch tightly those things we hold precious, we can never open ourselves to the passionate embrace of our Savior.

What do you hold most dear? And are you willing to lose it for the embrace of your Savior?

It's easy to relate to the man who is asked to sacrifice everything. It's easy to sympathize with him. But if you were called to do the same, to radically commit your life to following Jesus, would you react any differently? I'd like to think I would. I'd like to think I could just say, "Here Jesus. Take it all." Some days, I think I'd be okay with that. Others, I think I'd have a hard time lettin' go.

Jesus calls for radical commitment, because the gift of salvation that He offers is radical. He gave His very life so that gift could be given to us. He's only asking that we give up some of our measly possessions. {sigh} "Oh, all right Jesus. Here ya go. But what do you really want with my Mystery Machine, stamp collection, and spork anyway?"

"Duh!" says Jesus. "I'm so sure! Scooby Doo rocks, man! And your stamps are kinda cool and I've been looking to trade some with Moses, and I know the Spork story and I've been lookin' for one to use as a prop when I tell it!"

"Okay, Jesus. Fine. Take it all." I say in return with a little huff in my voice.

Jesus responds with a smile and twinkle in His eye and says, "Thanks, my friend. But why don't you keep your baby shoes. You'll need them as a reminder of how I'd like you to be when you show up asking to enter into My Kingdom." And then Jesus laughs. Not a mocking laugh--but a laugh of pure child-like Joy.

And I can't help but to laugh as well. He's gotten me. My Savior-friend has called forth the child within me and reminded me of the simple Joy that I once knew. And as I realize that Joy, I again see the twinkle in Jesus' eyes and I become aware of the Source of that Joy.

Baby steps, friends? Ah heck, why not take a leap of faith?!

Be WILD For Christ!