[Delivered in the Hilliard Ward, Sept. 23, 2012]
How much is a human soul worth? How can we calculate its value? One way would be to try to use a dollar amount. If your body was reduced to its basic elements, Oxygen, Carbon, Hydrogen, Nitrogen, Calcium, and so forth, it is estimated that you would be worth about $160 dollars, most of that value coming from the potassium and sodium. Your potassium, in fact, would account for about 2/3rds of the value of your body’s elements, were it reduced to its basic compounds. So, $160 -- doesn’t seem like much. Link.
Another way to calculate the value of a human life is to think about how much it would take, say, to purchase a slave. How much would it cost to actually own another human being? Based on my research on the Internet, I found that, in 1857, it cost about $1400 dollars to buy a slave in Antebellum American South. That translates into about $25,000 in today’s money. It is interesting, and very troubling, that you could have bought a slave, a human being, for about the cost of an average car today. Link.
What about if we do the sort of cost benefit analysis that is popular today in the business world? Ford Motor Company attempted this back in the 1970s. Ford President Lee Iacocca had stipulated that, in order to compete with the economical Japanese cars that were coming in the market, he wanted to design a car that would weigh less than 2,000 pounds and that would be priced at less than $2,000. This idea became the legendary Ford Pinto. There was one major and tragic flaw with the Pinto’s original design, a flaw that cost dozens of lives. In the event of the rear end collision, even at low speeds, the gas tank would be pushed forward and punctured by the protruding bolts of the differential. Gasoline would come pouring out, explosions would occur, and people would be in danger of dying a fiery death. When Ford discovered this problem during the initial crash tests, they did a cost benefit analysis. They found a solution to the problem that cost $11 per car. Overall, the cost to redesign and rework the Pinto's gas tank, at that late stage, would cost about $137 million. Ford experts then calculated that they could be held liable for $200,000 per traffic fatality. Using an estimate of 180 deaths and 180 serious burns, Ford calculated that their possible liability costs worked out to around $49 million. So, because the $137 million cost to fix the problem was greater than the 49 million in liability, they, tragically and infamously, decided not to fix the Pinto. Many people died or were severely burned. So, in this sad story, there is another estimate of a human life: $200,000. Link.
Yet another way to think about your worth as a human being to to think how much your individual organs are worth. There is, unfortunately, a thriving black market for human organs throughout the world. Turns out that a human heart is worth $290,000 in South Korea, where a human liver is also worth $290,000. A kidney is worth $145,000 in Turkey, and a pancreas is worth $140,000 in Singapore, where a lung also sells for $290,000. Link. According to a recent article in Wired magazine, a full human body could be worth up to $45 million if we sell the bone marrow, DNA, lungs, kidneys, heart, etc., as separate components. I, for one, will be worth more money dead than I every will be alive!
Now, none of this has been particularly pleasant to think about. That discomfort stems from our moral issues, I think, with the thought of buying a slave, doing a cost benefit analysis on a human life, selling body parts on the black market, and so forth. But our discomfort is more than that. I think we sense that the value of a human life is being missed in these calculations. In the D&C 18:10, we read that we should “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God.” This begins to tell us something about our worth as human beings. Is there a way, though, we can get a more precise sense of this worth? Is there a way we can feel it on a more gut level, with more emotional punch.
To get this sort of glimpse of the worth of a soul, I want to turn to three stories from the New Testament, three parables, that deal with this same topic. The text that I wish to focus on is the 15th chapter of the Gospel of Luke.
In the beginning of this chapter, we are given the setting in which these three parables are told. Picture the scene: Jesus is teaching. A group of sinner and publicans (who were basically seen as traitors to Israel) approach him. This group is the lowest of low on the Israelite social ladder. They are the outcast and despised. And what does Jesus do? We are told only that Pharisees and scribes start to complain, saying, this man “receives sinners and eats with them.” It is in response to this complaint that Jesus offers to the Pharisees three famous parables. Start in verse four:
4 What man of you, [he asks] having an hundred sheep, if he
lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go
after that which is lost, until he find it?
5 And when he hath found it,
he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.
6 And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbours, saying unto them, Rejoice
with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost.
I love this striking and intimate imagine, the image of a shepherd
laying the lost sheep on his shoulders, cradling it, carrying back to safety,
to home. I hope that we can all remember this image in those times when we have
wandered or are lost, times when we feel alone, or afraid. In those times, the
parable asks us to imagine a shepherd gently putting his arms around us, stroking us softly, lifting us up to his shoulders, and carrying us back
to safety. How much is a human soul worth? Well, think of that beautiful image,
the shepherd going out into the wilderness, gently carrying back the one lost sheep.
Imagine that shepherd calling for a celebration. That intimate imagine suggests
how much we are worth.
Another parable:
8 ¶Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she
lose one piece, doth not light a candle, and sweep the house, and seek
diligently till she find it?
9 And when she hath found it, she calleth her
friends and her neighbours together, saying,
Rejoice with me; for I have found the piece which I had lost.
Notice in
this story, the woman seems to lose the coin at night. Notice that she doesn’t
wait until morning to search. She lights a candle. She is so desperate to find
this coin that she stays up all night, sweeping, desperately looking for it!
Now, I
want you to think of times in your life when you have lost something important,
something that simply could not be lost. Try to remember how you felt. I think
of a time on my honeymoon. Ellie and I went on our honeymoon to San Diego California. We had a wonderful time, staying in a resort
right next to the beach, going to parks and museums, starting out our married
adventure together. I remember feeling in those early days that I wanted to
show to everyone, particularly Ellie, that I could be competent husband, and
that Ellie hadn’t made a huge mistake marrying me. On our last day in San
Diego, we decided to take one more romantic walk on the beach, young newlyweds
without a care in the world. As we walked back to the hotel to check out, I
reached in my back pocket and found, to my horror and embarrassment, that my
wallet was missing. Everything I needed was in that wallet, my credit cards, my
money, my identification to get on the flight that would take us home, a flight
leaving in less than two hours. More than that, in that wallet was my very
credibility, my chance to be seen as a competent husband. I sprinted back to
the beach, frenziedly, frantically, perhaps even hysterically, a wave of
desperation washing over me. I can imagine that this is how the women in the
parable felt, staying up all night seeking for this coin.
I should
note that, however frantic I felt in that moment, it is nothing compared to the
times when we have briefly lost children in busy public places. Those of you
who have lost your children know the feeling: That frantic desperation. And
when you find a lost child, you can understand the relief that is also captured
in these stories. You can understand why someone would want to have a party, a
celebration, when what was lost has been found.
Think,
then, about that moment when you lost something, something that simply could not be
lost. Recreate in your minds and hearts the feelings that you experienced as
you were looking for it. And think about the relief you felt when
you found it, or the sorrow you felt when realized it was gone forever.
Recreate in your mind that sense of desperate desire, that terrible emotion, the emotion that keeps us up all night looking for something, that emotion
that gets us sprinting back to the beach.
In those
emotions, we can begin to understand, on a gut level, the true worth of the
soul. That frantic feeling to find that which was lost? That is the worth of
the soul. That unforgettable relief and joy when you found it, a joy worth
celebrating? That is what you are worth. In these stories, we are being told
that this desperate love is how God seeks for us when we are lost. That is the answer.
Recall
the setting in which Jesus told this story. Think about what Jesus is saying
here to these complaining Pharisees, as he tells these stories. It is as if
Jesus is saying, “You think it is bad that I am sitting down and eating with
these publicans and sinners. Well, you should know: not only will I eat with
these sinners and outcasts, these lost souls, I desperately love them with a
love you cannot understand. I would stay up all night looking for them with a
candle clenched in my worried hand. I would go out into the wilderness alone
looking for them, carrying them back rejoicing on my shoulders. That is how
much I love them.” I can only imagine how scandalous that message would have
been to the Pharisees. Jesus not only eats with these sinners, he desperately
cares for them!
Some of
you may know the story of The Giving Tree, a book by Shel Silversteen. I love
this story. I must admit, however, that I actually have a complicated
relationship with it (I guess it shows how weird I am to have a complicated
relationship with a children’s book). The story goes like this:
Once, there was a tree…
And she loved a little boy.
And every day the boy would come
And he would gather her leaves
And swing from her branches
And eat apples
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree… very much…
And the tree was happy.
And she loved a little boy.
And every day the boy would come
And he would gather her leaves
And swing from her branches
And eat apples
And they would play hide-and-go-seek.
And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree… very much…
And the tree was happy.
But time went by,
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then, one day, the boy came to the tree and the tree said:
"Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat apples and play in my shade and be happy!"
"I am too big to climb and play," said the boy. "I want to buy things and have fun. I want some money.Can you give me some money?"
"I’m sorry", said the tree, "but I have no money. I have only leaves and apples. Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in city. Then you will have money and you’ll be happy."
And so the boy climbed up the tree and gathered her apples and carried them away.
And the tree was happy…
And the boy grew older.
And the tree was often alone.
Then, one day, the boy came to the tree and the tree said:
"Come, Boy, come and climb up my trunk and swing from my branches and eat apples and play in my shade and be happy!"
"I am too big to climb and play," said the boy. "I want to buy things and have fun. I want some money.Can you give me some money?"
"I’m sorry", said the tree, "but I have no money. I have only leaves and apples. Take my apples, Boy, and sell them in city. Then you will have money and you’ll be happy."
And so the boy climbed up the tree and gathered her apples and carried them away.
And the tree was happy…
The story
continues. The boy comes back again and again, asking more and more from the
tree. He takes her apples and branches. Finally, the story says the boy was
away for a long time. He returns again and makes the ultimate demand of the tree.
And when he came back, the tree was so happy she could hardly speak.
"Come, Boy," she whispered, "Come and play."
"I am too old and sad to play," said the boy. "I want a boat that will take me away from here. Can you give me a boat?"
"Cut down my trunk and make a boat," said the tree. "Then you can sail away… and be happy."
And so the boy cut down her trunk
And made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy…
But not really.
"Come, Boy," she whispered, "Come and play."
"I am too old and sad to play," said the boy. "I want a boat that will take me away from here. Can you give me a boat?"
"Cut down my trunk and make a boat," said the tree. "Then you can sail away… and be happy."
And so the boy cut down her trunk
And made a boat and sailed away.
And the tree was happy…
But not really.
And after a long time the boy came back again.
"I am sorry, Boy," said the tree, "but I have nothing left to give you – My apples are gone....My branches are gone....My trunk is gone"
"I am sorry, Boy," said the tree, "but I have nothing left to give you – My apples are gone....My branches are gone....My trunk is gone"
"I am sorry," sighed the tree. "I wish that I could give you
something… but I have nothing left. I am just an old stump. I am sorry…"
"I don’t need very much now,” said the boy. “Just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired."
"Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, "well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down… sit down and rest."
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy…
"I don’t need very much now,” said the boy. “Just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired."
"Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could, "well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down… sit down and rest."
And the boy did.
And the tree was happy…
If you go
on the Internet, there is actually a heated debate about the merits of this book.
Some have said that this actually isn’t a very good story. I have thought such
things myself – hence my complicated relationship with the book. In the story a
tree gives all that she has without asking anything in return or getting
anything from the relationship. The boy: he takes and takes and takes. The
tree: she gives and gives and gives. She seems exploited, a doormat, letting
the boy walk all over her. Why should we find admirable what the tree gives
here?
For an
answer, let’s return to Luke 15.
11 ¶And [Jesus] said, A certain
man had two sons:
12 And the younger of them said
to his father, Father, give me the portion of
goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto
them his living.
13 And not many days after the
younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and
there wasted his substance with riotous living.
It is
important to read this story in the way they would have read it in the ancient
world. The key point is that the son is insulting his father in a way we cannot
comprehend. The father isn’t even dead, and the younger son is already asking
his inheritance. He is basically saying, “Father, you are dead to me.” Just as
bad is how the boy so quickly leaves and wastes the money. He goes off to a
“far country,” which I read as symbolic of leaving the covenant people, leaving
the church, and he goes and lives in a riotous way. He is using his father’s
estate in a way that goes against everything the father stands for. The
audience hearing this story in Jesus’s time would have thought that this son
deserves only punishment and shame. That and nothing more.
The son
heads off, wasting the money on wine and women. He falls are hard times. He
realizes that he would be better off as a slave to his father. Notice the story
never says the son felt bad for what he did and how he treated his father. He rehearses a self-serving little speech that he is going to give his
father when he returns. The
son remains selfish, thinking only of himself. “The father is going to beat
this son senseless when he comes home!,” the audience begins to think.
But, of
course, this is not what happens. You remember how the author of Luke recounts the story:
“But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion,
and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.” The father seems to have been
anxiously waiting for any sign of his son, waiting literally by the window, so
that he sees him from a distance. Like me frantically sprinting back to the
beach, the father frantically sprints to his lost son. He has lost something of
inestimable value. He is experiencing that frantic desire of the woman looking
for the coin. Instead of beating his son, the son is embraced; instead of
giving the son what he deserves, the son is given compassion and mercy; instead
of stern words, the son is given tenderness, kindness, forgiveness; instead of
anger, the father kisses the son on his neck. The father responds with an
almost irrational love: “It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad:
for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.”
How much
is a human soul worth? I believe that, to understand the worth of the human
soul, on a gut level, there are three images to remember. I want you to
remember the image of the lost sheep, alone and frightened in the wilderness,
cradled in the arms of the shepherd, lifted on his shoulders. I want you to
remember the woman searching all night, frantically and desperately, trying to
find her lost coin. I want you to remember the father, who had been so despised
and insulted by his son, who still waits anxiously by his window, waiting for
his son to come home. I particularly want you to remember these images when you
feel lost or alone, when you feel nobody cares, when you feel like you’ve made
mistakes, when you feel unloved.
How much
is a human soul worth? A gentle lift in the wilderness to safety, a frantic
search at night, a tireless vigil by the window. Remember these images and,
most of all, remember the image of a Heavenly Father, who loved the world, who
loved you, so much that he sent his son, to suffer and to die. I bear testimony
of this love.
(For the link between the Giving Tree and the Prodigal Son, I am indebted to: http://andrewsullivan.thedailybeast.com/2011/04/the-sacrificial-tree.html)