Comparison is the Thief of Joy
25th Sunday of Ordinary time, Lectionary: 133
Comparison is the thief of joy.
Nobody knows who said it first, but it’s certainly true.
Many things are joy-robber: Anger and Bitterness; Complaining; Time; Debt; too much or too little of Work and Play; Anxiety, Fear – the list goes on.
But, few things rob us of more joy than Comparison.
Truly, Comparison is the thief of joy.
Psychologists tell us that we consistently compare ourselves to the best in good things and small. Can you paint? Well, yes, but not like Michelangelo. Can you sing? Well, yes, but not like Aretha Franklin. Can you edge your lawn? Well, yes, but not like Joseph H. Can you make braids, well, yes, but not like Laverne J. Do you have a good job? Well, yes, but I don’t love mine like Sam W loves his. Do you farm? Well, yes, but not like the Kittens. Have you had an encounter with God? Well, yes, but…
We do not compare ourselves to the worst, nor even to the average case. We compare ourselves to the best extreme we know. This comparison usually leads us to feelings of inadequacy, envy, fear, or all of these.
One of the worst things technology ever did is expand our perspective. Once upon a time, it was quite the thing to be the best singer in Slaton, or farmhand of the year. Now, the internet brings the entire world now and in the past right into our hands for our comparison. And… compare, we do, even without realizing it.
Teens, especially teen girls, are very susceptible to the destructive influence of social media. Their self image is forming, and what they see on the internet is destroying them. There is a direct causal relationship between social media use and sadness, depression, self-harm, and suicide. Increasing social media use increases these. Decreasing social media use decreases these. Studies for over a decade from left-leaning and right-leaning sources all come to the same conclusion: Consuming social media is consistently harmful to humans, and especially so for young people, and especially so for young women and girls.
Most of us know this – it isn’t news – and yet we continue to behave otherwise. I didn’t intend to go there, but I have what is likely to be a wildly unpopular message:
Parents, if you are allowing your children to consume social media, you are allowing them to consume a poison that endangers their mental, spiritual, and physical health.
Many of you have seen it already. It’s time to put on the breaks. This is your push to finally make that decision. Your children might be angry for a while, but you are called to keep them happy, healthy, and holy.
And, perhaps, you need to set an example, setting aside your own scrolling addiction. I would go so far as to say that all of us are happier, healthier, and holier if we greatly limit or entirely exclude social media from our lives.
I know I am.
And much of that is because of comparison. We are like the vineyard workers in today’s parable
Was anyone cheated in that parable? No. Everyone received at least what was just – they got the good they deserved. Those who worked all day received the usual daily pay. They should have gone home happy that they received fair pay for a day’s work.
So, what was the problem?
The problem was comparison. Those who worked all day compared their compensation to those who only worked for an hour.
It seems reasonable to be upset, right? You got up, went to the square, and headed off to work at dawn to work a 12 hour shift in the fields. I stayed in bed for a few hours, had some donuts at the bakery, took a nap, went to lunch at Arandas, then dropped by the square on the way to 1809 for dinner, and was hired to work for an hour before dinner.
You got paid for a day’s work. I got paid for a day’s work.
That’s not fair!
Well. No, it isn’t. It’s just though. Justice is to give to each what is due. You got what is due. The fact that I got more than I am due is mercy. It does not diminish the justice of the fact you got a day’s wages.
We struggle to see it that way.
That is because God’s thoughts are infinitely different from our thoughts.
Infinite means that there is always more. There is no limit. God is infinitely good. The psalmist says God is gracious, merciful, patient, good, compassionate, just, holy, near and unsearchable.
In the parable, Jesus shows us that God is both just and merciful.
When we are the sinner, we want God to be merciful.
When someone sins against us, we want God to be just.
That’s not how God works. God is justice. God is mercy. It is not God who is broken here – it is us. We can’t see it clearly, because God’s thoughts are not our thoughts. God’s ways are not our ways. God’s are bigger, more complete, more merciful, more kind, more gracious, more more more… than we can even imagine.
The greatest remedy for and vaccination against envy, that pernicious joy-robber and consequence of comparison – is thankfulness.
Do we feel defrauded?
Do we feel robbed because someone else has more?
What do we think we deserve?
Spoiler: We deserve hell. We need mercy.
We are not the workers who toiled all day long. We are the addict who dragged ourselves to the job center at 5pm. Or, we are the ones lucky enough to be hired early instead of left to get in trouble all day.
We are not the righteous – we are the scoundrels who need to change our ways. We are the wicked who need to change our thoughts. We are the envious, who tear down others. We are the unthankful, who take for granted the good gifts we have received from God, complaining about what we do not have, and for the sufferings we endure.
And yet, despite it all, the Lord is gracious and merciful to us. The Lord is slow to anger, and of great kindness to us. The Lord is good to us, and compassionate towards us. The Lord is holy, and just and the Lord is near when we call.
We are gathered today for Eucharist – eucharistia – thanksgiving. Give thanks to God – praise the name of the Lord now and forever – Thanksgiving insulates our mind and heart from the toxins that whirl around us, and from the whispers of the enemy of our souls, so that we, like St Paul, can magnify Christ by our life, or by our death.
