We are continuing our Lenten journey through life's five hard truths. These truths are explored in more detail in Richard Rohr's book Adam's Return: The Five Promises of Male Initiation. Last week, we talked about the truth that life is hard. This week's truth is that you are not that important. 

On my men's retreat last May, during which I learned about these five truths, I had a particularly powerful encounter with this truth. In the last part of the week the leaders sent us all out into the wilderness surrounding the valley where we were staying. Our task was to find a spot where we were completely alone--at least 100 yards away from anyone else. They handed us five envelopes, and every hour or so we were to open one, and to reflect on the contents. Spoiler alert: each envelope was a hard truth. Now, let me say, we'd been working through these all week, so we were somewhat prepared for this, but that didn't make the time easy, necessarily. Envelope #2 contained a card that said, "You are not that important." 

I'd found a nice spot on the slope of a hill that allowed me to see some incredible snowcapped mountains in the distance. Storm clouds rolled over them, and I could even see a little lightning. An awesome sight. Things were calmer in this spot, and I was surrounded by brightly colored yellow flowers that looked a little like sunflowers. As I sat with this truth, a bee would occasionally fly by my head. I'm not afraid to admit that I've not been much of an outdoorsy person, so the bees were giving me a little anxiety. Why were they bothering me? I was swatting at the air as I'd hear them, and it was really starting to get under my skin. I also started to wonder if they were bees at all because the buzzing sounded big! One of my teasing friends reminded me before I left for this trip that Washington state is one of the places people had found murder hornets during the previous year. I'm out there all alone, and I begin to imagine myself being attacked by murder hornets thanks to my good friend. What a friend, huh? And what a chicken I am, huh?

At some point, the bees got annoying enough that I got up off of the blanket I'd packed and walked around a little. I saw some of the bees pollenating the flowers and begin really to observe them. After stopping at a flower or two I'd see them fly off, and I noticed they were flying off in the direction of my blanket, and right over it. That is when it hit me. These bees didn't care about me. At all. They were not flying around trying to bother me. They were simply doing their job, and I was sitting in the flight path.

The Holy Spirit then lightly slapped the back of my head. "Guess what, Rob--you're not that important."

​That storm over those mountains, these bees, the flowers--you don't matter a whit to any of it. They're all on the "Be Team": "they be here before you arrived, they be here now, and they be here when you're gone." You are not that important. 

Two things washed over me during that hour, and frankly for the rest of the day and beyond: 1) in the grand scheme of God's wide creation, I am insignificant. Yet, 2) at the same time, I am a part of it all. More than one thing can be true at one time. It's true, then, that you and I are not that important. BUT, as a part of a creation that God calls "very good" (Genesis 1:31), as people made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27), as God's beloved children (Galatians 4:4-7), you and I are infinitely important. 

The world tells us that life is what you make of it. Make your own way. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps. Your worth is in what you produce. What's one of the first questions we usually ask someone we've just met? "What do you do?" Our American culture in particular loves the self-made person. This world is all about doing in order to show our value. Spirituality is not about doing--it's about being. You are not valuable to God because of what you do for God or others. Your value in God's eyes is not earned. It's inherent. 

In Adam's Return, Richard Rohr writes, "If there is no list of names in eternity, we are burdened with making our own personal name day after day. Either we are made by another or we must be self-made. Then it is every [person for themselves], dog eat dog, as we vie with one another for a zero-sum dignity and importance. If you have it, then I don't, or I will use you for my measuring stick. In either case, I am lost in comparison, envy, competition, and codependency. Spirituality: if you have it, I do too, and if I have it, you do too. Authentic spirituality is an experience of abundance and mutual flourishing instead of scarcity. Material gifts and ego gifts decrease with usage, whereas spiritual gifts actually increase with each use, in ourselves and in those around us" (p. 155-156). 

I kept one of the yellow flowers from that hillside. A friend of mine is helping me to enclose it epoxy so I can keep it with me always. I need it to remind me of the truth: you are not that important. BUT, "you have been given new birth—not from the type of seed that decays but from seed that doesn't. This seed is God's life-giving and enduring word. Thus, 'All human life on the earth is like grass, and all human glory is like a flower in a field. The grass dries up and its flower falls off, but the Lord's word endures forever.' This is the word that was proclaimed to you as good news" (1 Peter 1:23-25). 

You are not that important. BUT. at the same time you are infinitely important. And as we grow, we discover what truly is important. 

Each Friday during Lent I'll be using this space to reflect a little more deeply on what Fr. Richard Rohr calls "The Five Hard Truths." Last year I attended a Men's Rites of Passage retreat in the Cascade Mountains of Washington State. It was one of the most profound spiritual experiences of my life. The rites were based on these five hard truths that all people must confront in order to grow spiritually and emotionally. Though the truths come out of Fr. Rohr's men's work, the truths transcend gender, and are simply a core part of the human experience. 

Each of these truths, which we initially experience as negative, have corresponding positive truths that offer real and lasting hope. Much like the story outlined in Lent and Holy Week, however, we have to go through the cross before we get to resurrection. In his book Adam's Return: The Five Promises of Male Initiation, Rohr writes, "The five positive messages must be a young man's own inner experience, not something he believes because others told him to; they must be something he knows to be true for himself. The five negative messages must be deliberately taught and ritualized because we all will resist their truth, run from them, and even deny them if we can" (p. 153). That being said, I still think they're worth teaching even though they're hard. I do, however, think he's right--they're better experienced. And, again, as I mentioned above, even thought his comes out of Rohr's men's work the truths transcend gender. 

1. Life is hard

Sure, many people's lives are much harder than mine. I recognize that. But, it's certainly been my experience that life is hard. 

2. You are not that important

I might feel like I am at some points, but in the grand scheme of things . . . 

3. Your life is not about you

Um . . . it's not? No. It's not. 

4. You are not in control

Maybe not, but I sure like thinking I am. Even though I can think of many times when life felt like it was out of control. 

5. You are going to die. 

I preached about this at yesterday's Ash Wednesday services. This is the truth that kicks off the whole Lenten season when we receive the ashes on our foreheads and hear the words, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." We go from enjoying Mardi Gras to facing our deaths. A hard truth, indeed.

There you have it. The five hard truths. Do they make you want to run? Do you disagree with any of them? Come back next Friday and we'll start breaking down each one, and I'll help you see positive messages that come with each truth.