Several years ago, we took a quick weekend trip to the beach. I remember the weather was cold, but I’ve learned to appreciate cold-weather beach trips. There’s something about them that invites rest, comfort, and peace in a very unique way. The house where we stayed was beautifully simple. In fact, the TV didn’t even have basic cable, just a small antenna that provided a handful of pretty uninteresting things to watch. So I grabbed a good book and read my way through most of the weekend.

But, one morning, a story on one of those TV channels did pique my interest. It was the story of Jim Bachor. Jim is an artist who lives in the Chicago area and years ago, he began to do something pretty unique in his community. He noticed potholes that had formed along many of the streets in his neighborhood, a pretty common problem. But he also noticed that the potholes weren’t being fixed, at least not permanently. So he decided to help.

Jim began fixing the potholes on his own. He mixed his own cement, used it to fill the holes, and blocked off the area to allow the new cement to dry. Plus, once he filled in a hole, he added a specially designed mosaic on top. Bright colors, fun images, truly works of art. I’ll link to his website in the show notes if you’d like to check out some of these pothole makeovers. But the mosaic was meant to provide resilience and durability, a lasting solution to a chronic pothole problem. The mosaic was strong and sturdy and in his own small way, Jim made a difference. He took a literal bump in the road and created something beautiful.

To be honest, I’ve seen plenty of potholes and have never once thought about fixing any of them. But really Jim’s story is about more than just potholes, isn’t it? It’s about his outlook and response. It’s seeing and experiencing brokenness and considering how we could be part of a solution, changing it for the better.

I love Jim’s perspective. Not only did he see something crumbling and do what he could to fix it, but he also did it in his own unique way. He added beauty to a broken road, not because it would benefit him in some way, but because it was an opportunity to use his gifts to contribute - sure, a small contribution, but a good one. He strengthened and brightened up his neighborhood, recognizing that even the smallest good matters.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I struggle with this. I think of the Kingdom of God and our call to contribute, and I want to contribute with some grand gesture, a huge movement, a big idea. I want the work I do to matter, to hold significance. And in our culture of bigger is better, bigger is noticed, and bigger is worthwhile, it can be easy to feel overwhelmed and to grow discouraged. 

However, that narrative doesn’t seem to fit Jesus’ perspective. In fact, all throughout the gospels, as Jesus is describing what the Kingdom of God is like, he uses small, simple descriptors: a pinch of yeast, a single pearl, a place fit for a little child, a tiny hidden treasure, and of course, a mustard seed.

In Matthew 13: 31-32, Jesus taught,

31 …“The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; 32 it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.”

I’m learning that in the Kingdom of God, small is significant. That doesn’t mean we hold back or shy away from how our contribution might be used, but it does mean that when we see something that’s broken, whether its a metaphorical pothole or bump in the road or an actual person or community or system, we partner with God and do what we can to love, mend, and add value, even in the smallest of ways. Even if we never see the fruits of our labor. Even if the effect is something we can’t measure.

Not too long ago, I watched an old interview with Mother Teresa, the nun who gave her life away serving the poor and dying in Calcutta. As you can probably imagine, it was an inspiring interview for many reasons, but one thing in particular stood out. The interviewer asked Mother Teresa how she viewed her work and how she was able to do it all. It was such a daunting task, with literally thousands and thousands of people in need. Mother Teresa didn’t hesitate with her answer and simply said that she didn’t view it that way. She never set out to do anything big by the world’s standards; she simply focused on the one person in front of her. That was the way of Jesus. And that one specific person was exactly who Jesus was calling her to. 

She went on to say she knew that perspective could leave some feeling like a drop in the ocean, like the small work doesn’t matter. But if each drop felt that way, we wouldn’t have the ocean. If one drop didn’t exist, we would be one drop less. Each drop matters.

Now, I understand Mother Teresa is an interesting example given that her work and ministry grew and multiplied and now she’s basically a household name. But what I realized is that the grand scope of her ministry was never her goal. Her goal was about spreading the love of Jesus and doing good as best she could, in her own small way. She truly believed the quote she so famously shared, that 

“not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”

I have to believe that even if Mother Teresa’s work had remained small and obscure, she still would have been faithful. I have to believe after seeing the pothole, she would have made something beautiful.

I know it can be easy to feel so overwhelmed by all that is broken in this world and assume that there is nothing we can do to fix it. We might as well just turn the other way. Or it’s easy to feel pressure to do something big and loud in order to matter, in order to avoid wasting our time away.  

But Jim’s story, Mother Teresa’s work, and Jesus’ parables remind us that there is always potential and opportunity for good. We just need to be open and willing to see the power in playing it small. Again, not to hold ourselves back as the phrase usually implies, but to recognize that in the Kingdom of God, small can be significant.

The Kingdom of God is like a kind word.

The Kingdom of God is like a warm meal.

The Kingdom of God is like a helping hand.

The Kingdom of God is like a selfless gift.

Like undivided attention, a handwritten note, a second chance, a friendly smile, a bold stand, a humble job, a genuine question, a powerful poem, a just cause, a brand new song.

 The Kingdom of God is like a brave yes and a confident no, like an open door, an honest prayer, a listening ear, an understanding heart, a generous spirit and a promise kept.

The Kingdom of God is like a small piece of art covering a pothole on the streets of Chicago.

Today, remember, there is power in playing it small. In the Kingdom of God, small can be significant. May we look for opportunities to contribute something good, and find our own unique way to add beauty and value in the world around us.