Someone once said that your life is like a movie in which you are the star. Everyone that
you encounter is a fellow actor. Some are co-stars, some are featured players, some are
extras who simply fill out the scene. But one thing is clear; you are the star. As the star
you are entitled to the star treatment. You get your own dressing room. You have an
assistant who will handle all of the little details that you are too busy to do. And
everyone from the director to the producer to the other actors must defer to you
because, after all, it is all about you.
Since I am of course the star of my movie, I have already begun working on the
acceptance speech for the Oscar which I will certainly be awarded. Don’t worry; I won’t
forget to thank all of you for being such a wonderful supporting cast. I may not mention
you by name, but you will know that you are in my heart. Isn’t that what actors always
say?
The problem of course is that MY movie is not the same as YOUR movie. If I am the star
of my movie, then I am the co-star of my wife’s movie, perhaps a featured player in Fr.
Vince’s movie and perhaps merely an extra in your movie. While great actors can thrive
in smaller roles, it does set up a problem when the plot of my movie clashes with the plot
of someone else’s movie. We can’t both be the star, so who gets to play the lead when
our movies intersect? Or put another way, how can you think it is all about you, when it
so clearly is all about me?
We humans develop a self identity that casts us as the center of attention. It begins at
birth. Babies don’t know about other people, they know only that they are hungry or
tired and they cry until their needs are met. As they grow they begin to recognize that
their parents are separate from them, but feel that others exist merely to provide for
their needs. I have found that some people never grow out of this, even into adulthood.
We all tend to look at the world through the lens of enlightened self interest. We wrap
ourselves in this cloak of identity that protects us from the world around us. Safely
ensconced in our protective covering, we are impervious to the assault of the world and
our role as the star of the show is protected and assured.
We finished the book of Job this morning. We know that Job was a good and righteous
man, a man of faith who loved the Lord. Yet Job had all manner of calamity heaped upon
him, more than anyone should have to endure. He did not succumb to the devil’s
temptation to curse God and renounce his faith, but that was not what changed his
fortunes. Remember that Job actually wanted to put God on trial, to hold him to account
for all his troubles. Even in his misery Job was still wearing his cloak of self-identity,
knowing that he was the star of the movie. He was certain that if he could just get God to
listen to him, that all would be set right.
But God is having none of it. Rather than hear Job’s case, God asks exactly who Job thinks
he is. Where were you when the earth was created? Did you set the stars in motion and
separate the day from the night?
God reminds Job that, while he may be the star of his own movie, he is merely a bit
player in God’s movie. And God’s movie is the greatest one of all. In effect, God strips
away Job’s cloak of self-absorption and lets him see that the world around him is much
bigger than Job has realized. And Job says “I have uttered what I did not understand,
things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. I had heard of you by the hearing of
the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore, I repent in dust and ashes.”
Job has had his world view expanded and he finally recognizes that God is more than he
has ever been able to understand. Job now stands before the Lord in true humility,
without his cloak of warped self-interest. “And the Lord restored the fortunes of Job, and
the Lord gave Job twice as much as he had before.” Job is a symbol to help us recognize
that the movie is not about us, but about God.
Bartimaeus, a blind beggar sits on the road in Jericho, waiting for travelers to offer him
alms. He hears a great commotion and learns that Jesus of Nazareth is coming down the
road and begins to call to him. “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” They try to
silence him but he calls ever louder, and Jesus hears him and calls him over. The gospel
tells us, “So, throwing off his cloak, he sprang up and came to Jesus.” This is both a
physical and well as a symbolic gesture. For a poor blind beggar, his cloak is one of his
only possessions. It is his way of staying warm and being protected from the elements.
To throw it off so quickly was not a small thing as it is likely all that he had. In a symbolic
sense, Bartimaeus, like Job, casts off his cloak of self-identity in recognition of God. He
knows that God is near and puts his self identity aside to approach the Lord. And Jesus
restores the fortunes of Bartimaeus and gives him sight.
We all experience hardship in our lives. They are sometimes small, sometimes large and
sometimes appear overwhelming. Job and Bartimaeus are not all that different from us.
Each had troubles and each had to set aside themselves and open their minds to the
larger presence of God. They had to learn that they are not the star of the movie, but are
there to support God and support the other actors in His name. Only when they had
learned this, were their fortunes restored and they went on with their lives; lives that had
forever been changed by their encounter with God, the real star of the show.