Monday, July 27, 2020

Getting Unstuck with Dr. Seuss: You Are Enough


Dr. Seuss Sermon Series
July 19, 2020
Psalm 139
Gertrude McFuzz: Accept yourself as God made you: Perfect and Whole and Holy

            We continue today with our Dr. Seuss series. Last week we looked at the deadly sin of pride; today we’re going to talk about envy. Gertrude McFuzz had only one feather; “just right for your kind of bird,” her Uncle Doctor tells her. But Lolla-Lee-Lou has two feathers and Gertrude is quite jealous. Her jealousy turns into anger. And anger, as it sometimes does, is used in Gertrude’s case to mask another, more vulnerable, emotion. Sometimes, when we’re feeling insecure or afraid or helpless or anxious, the outward emotion that we show is anger. We’re often more comfortable showing anger than an emotion that shows us as “weaker.” Gertrude, for example, feels that her one tail feather is not enough. She is not enough. She is not good enough. She is not beautiful with only one tail feather. She believes that she is flawed; her creator messed up when he gave her only one feather. This is where Gertrude’s envy has led her, only rather than be vulnerable by admitting that, rather than being brave by saying it out loud, she turns to anger instead and demands her Uncle Doctor tell her where the pill-berry vine is located.
            Psalm 25 begins and ends by saying, “In you, O God, I put my trust; do not let me be put to shame. Guard my life and rescue me; do not let me be put to shame.” That’s the literal translation from the Hebrew. I read a paraphrase this past week (in “Psalms for Praying: An Invitation to Wholeness” by Nan Merrill) where instead of “Do not let me be put to shame,” it said “Let me not feel unworthy,” and “Let me not live as unworthy.” Gertrude started to feel unworthy, when she realized Lolla-Lee-Lou had more feathers than she did. Then Gertrude started to live as unworthy, when she demanded her way and ate all the berries off the pill-berry vine. How often do we do this, too? We believe and live as if we’re not enough, as if we’re unworthy. In our brokenness, we think, and are made to believe, that we’re not enough, that we cannot be beautiful because of our flaws. Churches and other organizations can have this mentality, too. We’re not like them. They have more, therefore, we’re inferior. And it doesn’t matter what that more is, it’s an unhelpful, unhealthy comparison. Because you are enough. Because you are worthy. Because God made you the way you are, warts and all, and you are beautiful.
Too often we do not feel enough: good enough, whole enough, healthy enough, beautiful enough. We got caught in this deficit thinking. And, let’s be honest, we hear it from the world around us. We hear it in commercials and advertising. We hear it from other people, who may or may not be well-meaning, pointing out our flaws, or suggesting ways we can fix or hide them. Sometimes we put on a tough exterior like anger. Sometimes we find some method to elevate us to where we think we should be, like plastic surgery, which is comparable to what Gertrude did. Sometimes the suggestions and interventions are helpful. I went to speech therapy as a kid. I sounded like Elmer Fudd saying, “Wascally wabbit.” It feels ironic that I’m a preacher now. Speech therapy to enunciate my R’s was good and needed. Yet I’ve also been told as a preacher that my voice is too high-pitched to be understood. I’ve been told I’m too quiet. Yes, I’m female and I have a quiet personality. Those are beautiful things about me and the solution isn’t to make myself more male or louder but to have a better sound system set for a soprano voice.
This past week I listened to the latest podcast from “Everything Happens with Kate Bowler.” She interviewed an author named Heather Lanier who had recently written a memoir on raising her daughter called “Raising a Rare Girl.” Her daughter, Fiona, has an extremely rare syndrome called Wolf-Hirschhorn, which means she’s missing noticeable amount of genetic material on the 4th chromosome. It turns out we all are missing various amount of genetic material; it’s just that for most of us it’s not noticeable. Many medical professionals at the hospital where Fiona was born said this baby is wrong and her body is bad. Heather had to figure out how to love and mother a child who others considered to be bad, and it took a while and it took finding the right help. Many therapists came and checked off everything that Fiona wasn’t doing, all the milestones she wasn’t reaching and it wasn’t helpful. It was hurtful and harmful. It’s that deficit thinking of not enough. You know, we all want our children to be in the middle or high end of any bell curve, but Fiona wasn’t going to fit any bell curve or developmental chart, and that was okay. It was when a therapist came and asked what is Fiona doing, that they finally started to make some progress, at Fiona’s pace, based on what she was already doing. This is actually the same thing I was taught in my training to become an English as a Second Language teacher. It’s not the deficit that the student doesn’t know English or American culture. They already know a lot, so start there and build on that. I had one student who loved math and was great at it. So I had him do complex math problems, which he could solve, and then I had him explain it to me in English. There’s a lot more to this podcast, if it interests you, I encourage you to listen to all of it[1], but the one more thing I want to mention is how often Heather repeated that her daughter is good, whole, and holy, just how she is. Fiona is not bad, her body is not broken or cursed. She’s not normal, she’s not going to match other kids’ growth charts, and she is still good, whole, and holy.
This is what we hear in Psalm 139 as well. We are fearfully and wonderfully, marvelously, amazingly and miraculously made, created by God, who knows the number of hairs on our head, every bone and every muscle of our body, our limits, yes, but also our potential. And sometimes, as the cells reproduce to keep our body going, they misfire, and you get cancer. Sometimes we abuse our body, and we get a limp. Our bodies are so intricately and amazingly made, lovingly fashioned by our loving God, who knows us and loves us completely and is with us wherever we may go, even doctor’s offices and hospitals when our body malfunctions. We were each perfectly and lovingly made. The world may not always see that. You may not always see that about yourself. You were made good and whole and holy.
Gertrude McFuzz had to learn that the hard and painful way. She was so focused on her goal of becoming beautiful that she didn’t stop to think about the consequences. Once she had all those feathers, she couldn’t fly. She couldn’t even walk. She had lots of pretty feathers, but she couldn’t move. She was stuck, just like the Zax last week. However, unlike the Zax, there were birds willing to help Gertrude get unstuck. Her Uncle Doctor came to her rescue and brought other birds who were willing to help. Gertrude needed help to get back on right path. This is similar to recovery groups like AA or NA and to the community of faith. That’s why we’re here. So that no matter what happens during the week, no matter what you hear the world tell you, no matter what lie you’ve started believing about yourself, we can come re-orient ourselves back to God and remember who we are and whose we are. We are enough. We are beautiful and good and whole and holy. You don’t need more feathers, or whatever it is for you, to be complete. We are here to build each other up, and any suggestion that you’re not enough is not from God. Brush it off right now. Who you are is good. Same goes for your neighbor. And your family. And the person across the aisle from you. Take a moment and tell someone near you, “You are good. You are beautiful. You are enough.” If you’re watching this or reading this and no one’s around, look in the camera or in the mirror and say it. “You are whole and you are holy. You are perfect, just as God made you.” Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, including yourself.
A couple years ago a new movie version of “A Wrinkle in Time” by Madeline L’Engle came out. The main character, Meg, has trouble learning to tesser, the word used for traveling through the universe and she tells Mrs. Which (spelled w-h-i-c-h and played by Oprah Winfrey), “I don’t see or feel anything when we tesser.” Mrs. Which replies, “And you won’t, until you become one with the universe and yourself. As it is, it seems like you don’t even want to return as yourself.” Meg asks, “Well, is there any way I could return as somebody else, that I might like?” And Mrs. Which gently answers with another question, “Do you realize how many events and choices that had to occur, since the birth of the universe, leading to the making of you, just exactly the way you are?” Meg says, “I guess I never really thought about it.” “Maybe now’s the time to start thinking about it,” responds Mrs. Which. You are by design. You are not an accident or a mistake, no matter what your parents thought or may have told you. In the children’s book, “When God Made You” by Matthew Paul Turner, there’s a line that says, “When you dance alone, spinning like a cyclone, being whoever, whatever, in a world all your own, God smiles and here’s why – in the spark of your eye, a familiar reflection shines bright from inside.” That familiar reflection is the image of God, which is the image each of us is made in, lovingly and painstakingly created to be just who you are. There are times we try to put conditions on it, like I’m beautiful as long as I’m wearing my make-up or as long as I’m within a certain weight range. Unh-unh. You are inherently beautiful and good and whole and holy. And Gertrude learns that lessons, too. At the end, she is content to be just who she is, as God (or Dr. Seuss) made her. “Now she is smarter” and knows that she is enough. And so are you. Thanks be to God for God’s wonderful works!

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