BY VIRCHEL E. WOOD
ERY LITTLE IS KNOWN about him. The King James Version refers
to him as "James the less" (Mark 15:40). I prefer to think of him
as James "the Little." Perhaps he was small of stature, and to distinguish
him from others of the same name, he earned the nickname by which we know him.*
Like many nicknames, this one no doubt was cruelly unfair. Physical
differences (being overweight, or having crossed eyes, a lisp, a limp, or large
ears) can cause a person more than a heartache. But being called "the little"
does not seem to have affected James.
We probably know as much about James the Little's family as
we know about James himself. His mother was one of the devoted women—one
of the three Marys—who stood by the cross and who visited the tomb early
on the Resurrection morning (Matt. 27:56; Mark 15:40; Luke 24:10).
Some believe his father was Alphaeus, the father of Levi-Matthew.
If that is true—and remembering that James the Little had a brother called
Joses (Mark 15:40)—this family gave to the kingdom a father, a mother,
and three sons. However, in regard to James the Little, the only thing we may
be reasonably certain about is that he was a believer (together with his brother
Joses), which we might conclude by the prominence of the matter-of-fact references
to them in Matthew 27:56, Mark 15:40, and Luke 24:10.
Unfortunately, so many of us today worship at the shrine of
bigness. We like big crowds, big explosions, big parties, big discoveries. Our
attitude is: the bigger, the better. But just because something's small doesn't
mean it's not important. Largeness of size is not necessarily a measure of worth.
James was important, however "little."
A Thistle Did It
On the coat of arms of Scotland is the engraving of a thistle, placed there
for a reason. During the invasion of Scotland by the Danes, as the enemy was
advancing upon them in the dark, one of the Danes, his bare foot pricked by
a sharp thistle, cried out in agony. A sentry, hearing the sound, sounded the
alarm, aroused his comrades, and the Scots went forth to gain the victory. An
insignificant little thistle had saved an entire nation.
The San Francisco Post some time ago carried the story
of a bookkeeper in a wholesale house in that city who for three weeks had spent
sleepless nights in a vain attempt to balance his books. There was an apparent
shortage of $900 that could not be accounted for. He added up columns again
and again, until he was almost out of his mind.
Finally, he consulted the business manager, and together they
went over the books; but alas, the $900 deficit was still there. In desperation
the owner was called in, and the work of overhauling the accounts started again.
The men had not gone far before they came to an entry of $1,900.
"Why, that should be $1,000!" declared the owner. "How did it
happen to be entered $1,900?"
A careful examination followed, revealing that a fly had been crushed between
the pages of the book, and that one of its legs had made a tail on the first
zero of the $1,000 entry, making it look like a 9. A small fly's leg is very
small. Yet, in this case it was a very important little thing.
When the Cricket Crowed
A cricket once saved an important military expedition from destruction. The
commanding officer, Cabeza de Vaca, and several hundred of his men were on a
large boat on the way to South America. As they neared shore, they'd have been
smashed against a ledge of rock through the carelessness of the watch, had it
not been for a cricket that a soldier had brought on board. The little insect,
silent during the whole voyage, struck up the shrillest note as it scented land,
thereby warning the crew of the danger ahead.
Little things like a grain of sand, a flake of snow, a small
cloud of dust, or a drop of rain can help to make or break us. Christ came as
a babe, born in a manger. An itinerant teacher, He finally died on a cross and
was buried in a borrowed tomb. Yet He redeemed the entire human race. What great
things from such humble beginnings!
Jesus said, "Follow Me." Two short, small words. But,
taken seriously, they bring about a complete change in us. The Master said,
"Whosoever shall give to drink a cup of cold water to the least of persons,
the same shall receive a large reward." He taught that whoever is faithful
in small things will be faithful also in large things.
The little boy with only two small fish and five loaves of bread
had very little to contribute. Yet Jesus used his lunch to feed 5,000. Mary
Magdalene owned only one item of luxury—a bottle of perfume. She poured
it on Jesus' feet, and its fragrance has spread down through the history of
Christianity.
Alone, we are like a mustard seed. We need the promise that
though we're small, we still can accomplish much. Few of us will ever do really
"big things." However, like the mustard seed, we can spread a quiet
influence, until a transformation for good takes place in the lives of those
around us.
Noise, emotionalism, and sentimental religion appeal to many.
But in the story of the yeast, one can see the magnificence of silence. The
yeast spreads its power slowly and quietly, until it permeates the entire dough.
Just so, the whole earth changes by the quiet revolution of God's servants,
working quietly, but wholeheartedly, in His behalf. There's nothing insignificant
in life. Little things are important because they do not stay little. It takes
only one drop of poison to pollute a whole pail of water.
E. C. Brewer wrote this little gem:
"Little drops of water, little grains of sand, make the
mighty ocean and the pleasant land. . . . Little deeds of kindness, little words
of love, make our earth an Eden, like the heaven above."
Many Little Steps Make the Journey
Life is made up of little acts. Large cathedrals are made by adding one brick
at a time; one stone at a time; and cement, little by little. Long journeys
are completed one step at a time. The longest life cannot be lived faster than
one minute at a time. Most of us will never do "big things." But we
can remember that God holds as worthy of reward the little things, the giving
of a cup of cold water. It's the little kind acts that show our true character.
Jesus valued the little things—the tiny mustard seed, the
little lost coin. He built His kingdom on the faith of little people. Not one
disciple was a millionaire, or a ruler, or a college president. His church,
for 2,000 years, has been built and maintained on widows' mites and the gifts
of common laborers—a penny here, a penny there, given by little shoe cobblers
like Carey, blind people like Fanny Crosby, by cripples, and by insignificant
people such as James the Little.
*Readers should know that the original word used here has
been variously translated. The New International Version, for example,
speaks of James "the younger," which would not be a nickname, as such.
But we allow the present author to make his point.—Editors.
_________________________
Virchel E. Wood is vice chair of the Department of Orthopedic Surgery at
Loma Linda University, Loma Linda, California.
