Capital I

I often sing in the shower. It is truly the perfect locale for a little morning tune. The steam instantly warms up the pipes, and the tight quarters promote a certain resonance.

What was I singing, you ask?
Sadly, I was singing a little ditty I learned in elementary school. 

This is the way I remember it:

We all live in a Capital I,

in the middle of the universe,

the center of the skies.

And all day long, we polish on our 'I'

to keep it and bright and shiny

so it lightens up the sky.

LeFou, I'm afraid I've been thinking. (A dangerous pasttime, I know.) Different song, nice segue...

I was thinking about what a silly song that was, but got to thinking that the letter I is actually in the middle of the 'unIverse' and the center of the 'skIes'. I was congratulating myself for finally picking up on some poetic nuance of the original composition, only to discover later upon Googling the song, that I had the lyrics all wrong. (For those of you who know me, this does not come as much of a surprise.) So much for deeper meaning. 

Then again, the letter I has experienced a certain resurrection in recent years. It was once only a little Greek iota, the smallest and least significant, a veritable mustard seed among letters. Apple thrust the once-oblivious vowel into utter stardom with the creation of the iPod. Now we also have the iMac, and various applications: iWork, iBank, etc. Our small group recently went through a video series on the "iMarriage". Nintendo spun it right round and added a second vowel for impact, creating the Wii system. Even the little i's do a nice bow. Then again, without 'I' we'd be devoid of ice cream, and pi (π) would just be p. That could make math a little more comical. 

During this week's sermon, we touched on the subject of evil impersonated. Upon reading Isaiah 14, I was struck by the number of times Lucifer claims, "I will." With unabashed pride, he claims equality with God, nay supremacy over God: "I will ascend to heaven, I will raise my throne above the stars of God...I will make myself like the Most High." 

I am also struck by the number of times I claim, "I will" (minus the obligatory "Lord willing" recommended in James 4). Granted, I recognize my clear inferiority to Elohim, but when I choose my own path, I am making myself into my own God, usurping the authority of the great I am. Nontheless, many of my conversations hinge upon my communicating my thoughts, my questions, my ideas, my fears, my, my, my. My generation truly is the "I generation". Even my prayers may start focused on God, then on others, but somehow my mind, like a log adrift on a wave of the sea, lands right back onto the beach of my own needs, desires, wants, and anxieties.

Dying to myself requires a constant reminder, and not just a day-to-day, but moment-to-moment sacrifice. It represents the most challenging aspect of my Christian walk. Galatians 5:24 says: You cannot belong to Christ Jesus unless you crucify all self-indulgent passions and desires.
 
I think we better put our capital I on the market. I'm sure there are plenty of buyers.