The Reason to Serve

As believers, we are meant to serve others. Times of prayer and contemplation, inward reflection and personal growth are important, indeed vital, but Jesus said in Matthew 20:28, "...the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve..." He followed up that statement by saying, in John 13:15, after taking on the servant's task of washing his disciples' feet, "For I gave you an example that you also should do as I did to you."

We all serve in different ways, but keep in mind we are called to do mundane things well. Giving preference to others, not demanding to have our own way. Doing our jobs with joy. Smiling. Even service in these seemingly small (but extremely important ways)sometimes isn't easy. Some folks don't respond well to our good cheer. Sometimes, we may try to help someone, who either doesn't seem to want our help, or who asks for help, then displays what we think is a stunning lack of gratitude for what we do. We might decide it just isn't worth the effort because if we're not having much of an apparent impact, what's the point? If people don't want my help, why bother?

Something I read recently in "My Utmost for His Highest" by Oswald Chambers reminded me of what our motivation for service must be. "If our devotion is to the cause of humanity, we will be quickly defeated and broken-hearted, since we will often be confronted with a great deal of ingratitude from other people. But if we are motivated by our love for God, no amount of ingratitude will be able to hinder us from serving one another."

The other thing to keep in mind in considering our frustration with the actions of others is our own ingratitude. Chambers finishes his thought on the matter by saying, "Once we realize that Jesus has served us even to the depths of our meagerness, our selfishness, and our sin, nothing we encounter from others will be able to exhaust our determination to serve others for His sake."

Knowing we have done our best to serve according to God's standards and out of our love for him must overshadow any dissatisfaction we feel about the way people respond. The good we do should not be done for recognition or earthly reward; we should be willing to serve when no one else is watching and when nobody seems to even care.

What to give up? How about Complaining?

In the Protestant church where I grew up, we did not observe Lent, so the concept was a bit foreign to me until recent years. Perhaps the most widely-practiced aspect of this season involves abstaining from certain foods or particular behaviors. The idea is to give up pleasurable activities and instead devote the time and energy usually spent in those activities focusing on our spiritual condition and repenting for spiritual failures. (To my Catholic friends and others more steeped in the traditions of Lent, I realize there is certainly more to it than this over-simplified observation.)

But to concentrate on the "giving something up for Lent" concept, here is a possible choice as to what might be something to consider: complaining. Specifically, complaining about what is happening in politics and government. As a friend of mine noted recently, there is too much time wasted expressing ugly frustration about things over which we have little direct control. (Often, those doing the complaining don't even bother to complain to legislators.) If that time of complaining was used to work toward solving local problems, then things would get fixed, never mind what's going on in Washington.

I'm not suggesting giving up expressing legitimate concerns; thoughtful discourse is not the same as complaining. I'm proposing everyone set aside participating in (and, I'll add, listening to) complaining merely for the sake of complaining, including the hateful, personal attacks and comments about those with whom we disagree. Instead, substitute compassion, kindness and brotherly love, the very things believers are called to do on a daily basis, but which seem to have fallen off the radar when it comes to politics.

Forget the "they started it" approach as an excuse to trade insults. Instead, take to heart what Mahatma Gandhi said, "be the change you want to see in the world." Giving up negative behavior is a way to feel better -- mentally, physically and spiritually -- and it is a welcome relief to those around us as well. Complaining is not as enjoyable as it seems at the time we're doing it, and it's never missed once we discover how much peace is in our lives when it's gone. If everyone gave up complaining for 40 days, we might find out it's something we don't want to start back up again. Making a permanent change for the better is an especially good outcome of the observation of Lent.

Assessing blame in Haiti

Even though believers are explicitly instructed not to judge others, there is a jaw-dropping amount of judgment going on within the Church. It may be human nature to hear of something bad happening to someone and wondering what that person has done wrong, but it should not be Christian thinking to assess blame and find fault. And, while there is plenty of judging of individuals going on, I am thinking specifically of Haiti, and the old tale which has been dragged out yet again: Haiti made a deal with the devil, and that is why it is poverty-stricken and now devastated by this latest disaster. I'll borrow the strongest phrase of disapproval I ever heard my father use, "That's a crock for the birds."

I won't try to elaborate about how Haiti has repeatedly been invaded, enslaved, occupied and/or burdened with debt not of its citizens' making. And, aside from that, whether or not a "deal" was ever made with any dark force may or may not even be true. But I challenge anyone to provide evidence from the New Testament that the way God works is to make a whole country suffer for the (real or imagined) past sins of a handful of people. I find nothing in the teachings of Jesus to bear that out.

On the contrary, Jesus explains in Luke 13 that eighteen people who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them were no worse than anyone else. And when his disciples inquire as to why a particular man is blind by asking, "who sinned, this man or his parents...?" Jesus said, "It was neither that this man sinned, nor his parents; but it was so that the works of God might be displayed in him." (See John 9:2-3) For final evidence as to the fruitlessness of trying to find a direct correlation between suffering and sin, we only have to look at what happened at Golgotha, the place where Jesus was crucified.

Our individual actions and decisions can bring us misery, but it is not for us to judge others, Haiti included, and it is beside the point to try to assess blame for what has happened there. The real fault lies in not doing what we can to help, because Jesus goes on to say in John 9:4, "We must work the works of Him who sent Me as long as it is day. . ." Then he put his words into action and healed the man of his blindness. We are not called to judge Haiti; we are called to shine the Light and help heal Haiti.

Who's the Servant?

I think we all agree we are called to be servants of God, and we would never say God is meant to serve us. Yet, it seems our behavior and attitudes often do not bear out this truth. Over the years, I have (during my best moments) found myself asking for less, praising more, and seeking God himself to a greater degree, realizing there is a higher purpose in prayer than seeing what we can get from above. Arriving at the place of not "asking amiss" can be a long process and may require redefining what faith means to us.

Prayer is communion with God and not our opportunity to see our heavenly Father as a magic genie, waiting to grant us unlimited wishes. Many fellowships and individuals have, thankfully, moved beyond this thinking or were never there, but the church where I grew up went through quite a long "phase" which centered around what is widely known as the "prosperity principle."

It's a big leap from realizing God loves us and has a good plan for our lives to saying we should all be driving brand-new cars and living in million dollar mansions, and if we're not, there's something wrong with us, but, at its basic level, that's what this kind of teaching conveys. (I call it being a member of the "Bless Me Club.") Even if we are beyond that level of thinking, the potential is always with us to believe it to a lesser degree.

I recently read something by Oswald Chambers, in "My Utmost for His Highest," that gave me a spiritual jolt. He quotes John 4:7, "Jesus said to her, [the Samaritan woman at the well], 'Give Me a drink.'" Chambers goes on to say, "How many of us are expecting Jesus Christ to quench our thirst when we should be satisfying Him? We should be pouring out our lives, investing our total beings, not drawing on Him to satisfy us."

Are we asking for blessings for our own exclusive desires, or so we can use them to further God's kingdom? Since we are instructed to pray, "Your kingdom come. Your will be done" and "give us this day our daily bread," it seems whatever we are given is meant to be shared with others for kingdom purposes. And beyond all else which we seek, we should at all times pray to become completely immersed in God and God alone.

He is not our servant, but he is all we need. That's a wonderful truth to absorb into our spirits, one which actually brings with it great contentment and joy. Because when that realization finally becomes clear, we know that we don't have to settle for "stuff" when we can have God himself!

Divine Math

A couple of weeks ago, I posted a story about "bucket fillers" and "bucket dippers." To follow up on the concept that the way to fill our own bucket is to fill up someone else's bucket, I offer an example of what I call divine math.

Almost everyone has likely heard of the "loaves and fishes" stories in the New Testament. In Matthew 14, we read that to feed the hungry crowd of 5,000, Jesus used just five loaves of bread and two fish, blessing and breaking the bread to distribute to those gathered in the desolate place where they were. In the next chapter, he used seven loaves and a few small fish to feed in excess of 4,000 people. That is divine math; God obviously can bend the rules of multiplication as we know them, and that has always been fascinating (and comforting) to me. It is in the breaking and sharing of what we have, that it is multiplied.

There is another aspect of these stories, however, that I think is often overlooked and perhaps even more amazing. In the case of the 5,000, after they had all eaten and were satisfied, the broken pieces that were gathered up amounted to twelve full baskets. After the 4,000 were done, seven large baskets were filled with the leftover broken pieces. Not only was the food multiplied in a way that breaks the "rules," but what was left over was more than what Jesus had started with at the beginning! And furthermore, in the case where he started with less, he ended up with the most.

In a world desperately lacking in so many ways, we all need to ask ourselves the same question Jesus asked his disciples, "How many loaves do you have?" And when we count what we have, we should use divine math to calculate how far it will go and not worry about giving it away, knowing it will return to us many times over.

Jesus did not want to send the crowds away empty, and he still wants those who believe in him to fill those in need, whatever the need might be. Sometimes the need seems so great, it is easy to become overwhelmed, but we all need to do what we can, even if it seems insignificant. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow said, "Give what you have. To someone, it may be better than you dare to think."

And what you give may go much further than you can conceive.

Dangerous Divisions

Some of you may know that I write a weekly column for the West Plains Daily Quill's Religion page. I have had everyone from Presbyterians to Pennecostals tell me they read my column, at least on occasion. Baptists, Methodists, Episcopalians, Unitarians, members of the Church of Christ, non-denominational folk, agnostics and more have commented favorably on my various musings. I am certain I have not always written things with which all of them agree, but those who disagree have not been unpleasant with their assessments, at least not to my face. (And I do appreciate that. I hope I'm always prepared for constructive criticism, but a kind word of encouragement is so much nicer!)

My point is not to pat myself on the back, or to seek praise, my point is this: civility, kindness and fellowship are possible, even when people fundamentally disagree on certain issues. As this new year is still relatively young, my hope would be that this spirit of agreement would expand to include an ever-increasing number of people, not just with religious differences, but across cultural and racial lines, and even extending, dare I say it, to include political divisions.

There is nothing to be gained by intentionally provoking one another in mean-spirited ways, but that is what so often happens when people disagree. We don't just stick to the issues at hand. Instead, attacks often become personal, tempers flare and un-Christlike behavior erupts that must be make Satan beam with pride. Believe me, I'm not writing this because I'm defending either the Left or the Right. I'm done with politics myself. Seriously. Done.

At this juncture in history, there seems to be little possibility that politics has a chance to succeed in solving much of anything, because there is a destructive force created by division, and division is what results from non-stop political sniping. Certainly there is nothing wrong with thoughtful conversation about opposing views, but so much of the current conversation isn't conversation at all. Both sides sides seem to be in full-on personal attack mode.

Scripture warns there should be no divisions among us. Divisions are destructive, pure and simple. They make progress impossible; as the Book of Mark notes, "a house divided against itself will not be able to stand."

A friend of mine said rightly recently, "We all need to strive to love each other and take care of each other. If we would honor this, the other stuff would take care of itself." And scripture agrees. Proverbs 10:11-12 says, "The mouth of the righteous is a fountain of life, but the mouth of the wicked conceals violence. Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all transgressions."

Let our striving be for love, peace and understanding. Let us leave divisions behind.

We all have a bucket

I'm convinced that children have a better grasp of theology than almost any adult I know. After all, Jesus did say, ". . . Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matt. 18:3-4)

Children, it would seem, may have the upperhand, spiritually, so when they speak, we probably should listen. Their approach to almost anything in the world is so simple and straightforward. Here's an example of the wisdom of a child.

Almost any time you ask my grandson what he learned at school, he'll say something along the lines of, "Same old thing." But one day, not long ago, he had a new thing to say. His teacher had read something to the class which one of his friends had brought to school. "Everyone in the whole world has a bucket," he told me with the wide-eyed, earnest enthusiasm of a seven-year-old who had just found a way to express a great truth he had always known. There's no telling exactly how the story went originally, but he continued with his interpretation.

"Some people are bucket-dippers, and some people are bucket-fillers. When someone is a bully and they say or do mean things, they're a bucket-dipper, and they're trying to empty someone else's bucket, so they can fill up their own. But they can never fill up their own bucket by being mean; it really just makes their bucket empty. When someone is a bucket-filler, they do nice things, like say hello to the mailman or smile at everyone. When they do that, they're trying to fill up other people's buckets, but they're really filling up their own bucket, too. Being nice is the only way to fill up your bucket."

Wow. How true is that?

Psalm 8:2 says, "From the mouth of infants and nursing babes You have established strength because of Your adversaries, to make the enemy and the revengeful cease." If we all switched to a definition of strength marked by doing the right thing, making choices based on what is good and simple rather than seeking revenge, if we all tried to become bucket-fillers every day, eventually the bucket-dippers would be silenced, because everyone's bucket would be full. And when everyone's bucket is full, there won't be any reason to fight.