Tag: Worth

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Sermon: Proper 17 RCL C – “The Lord’s Possession”

A father told his daughter, “You graduated with honors; here is a car I bought many years ago. It’s quite old now. But before I give it to you, take it to the used car lot downtown and tell them I want to sell it to see how much they’ll offer.” The daughter went to the used car lot, came back, and said, “They offered me $1,000 because it looks very worn out.” The father then said, “Take it to the pawnshop.” The daughter went to the pawnshop, returned, and said, “They offered $100 because it is a very old car.” The father then asked his daughter to show the car at a car club. The daughter took the car there, came back, and told her father, “Some people in the club offered $100,000 because it’s a Nissan Skyline R34, an iconic car that’s highly sought after.” The father said, “The right place values you the right way. If you are not valued, don’t be upset; it means you are in the wrong place. Those who recognize your worth are the ones who appreciate you. Never stay in a place where no one sees your value.”

While he was in Corinth, the Apostle Paul wrote a letter to the church in Rome—The Letter to the Romans. He had not yet visited the city, but news of the church there had reached him.

Broken down, Romans provides guidance on several topics, but overall, Paul’s main concern is the conflict between Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians. This was actually a common issue in the early Church. 

We know that the Israelites are God’s chosen people. The word “chosen” is defined as “selected or marked for favor or special privilege.” That very much describes the Covenant God made with Abraham and explains why the Israelites were chosen. When making the Covenant, God said, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” (Genesis 12:2-3)

It is easy to see the “marked for favor or special privilege” in those words. And it is also easy to overlook why the Israelites were so marked, but it is right there in the middle—“And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.”

Yes, God says, I am setting you apart for blessing and honor, but I am doing so for a very specific purpose. I am blessing you so that you will be a blessing to the world. The Lord stated it clearly through the Prophet Isaiah.

“It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
    to raise up the tribes of Jacob”

(The “tribes of Jacob” is understood to be all the Jewish people—the Israelites.)

“It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
    to raise up the tribes of Jacob
    and to bring back the preserved of Israel;
I will make you as a light for the nations,
    that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” (Isaiah 49:6)

God selected the Israelites to be His chosen people so they could bless others, and in return, He promised to bless them. However, somewhere along the way, it seems that the Israelites focused more on being blessed than on blessing others. They viewed their chosen-ness as a privilege and a right to look down on those around them.

Following the death and resurrection of Jesus, many Israelites became Christians and brought their Jewish practices with them. This wasn’t a problem as long as they didn’t impose these practices on the Gentiles. However, they also carried with them a false idea of being chosen and privileged. So, in his letter to the Romans, Paul asks, “What then? Are we Jews any better off? No, not at all. For we have already charged that all, both Jews and Greeks, are under sin.” (Romans 3:9) A few paragraphs later, he asks, “Is God the God of Jews only? Is he not the God of Gentiles also? Yes, of Gentiles also, since God is one—who will justify” both by faith. (Romans 3:29-30) In other words, no one has any special privileges except those who come to God in faith. Therefore, Paul says in chapter 12 of Romans, “Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.” (Romans 12:9-10) and “Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly.” (Romans 12:16a)

This theme recurs often in Paul’s letters. In his letter to the Philippians: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” (Philippians 2:3-4) To the Ephesians, he says, “I… urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” (Ephesians 4:1-3)

This all connects back to and could have originated from the events in our Gospel reading today. 

Jesus was invited to the home of a Pharisee to share a Sabbath meal. As we know, most Pharisees were not real fond of Jesus and were happy to let him know. Usually, when they had Him around, they looked for ways to trap Him. This time is no different. 

The Pharisees closely resembled the Jewish Christians of Paul’s time. They, more than any other Israelites, were called to be the priests—if you will, the light of the lights of the world. Instead, they became a burden to the people and saw themselves as superior. In their eyes, they were the truly chosen. Remember the Pharisee and the tax collector praying in the Temple, and how the Pharisee prayed, “God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.” (Luke 18:11-12) 

And, in the time of Jesus, this one-upmanship wasn’t limited to the religious leaders. Remember when James’ and John’s momma got into the mix? “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” (Matthew 20:21) Then there was the argument over who is the greatest. On and on and round and round. It all boils down to the same thing—they all wanted the best seat at the party or, at the very least, a place at the head table. 

You’re probably thinking, I know where he’s going with this one. He’s going to tell us how we wrongfully assign value to others based on influence, income, status, and similar factors. That’s a sermon I’ve preached before, but today, I want you to focus on yourself. What value do you place on your own soul? 

I know many people who believe their worth to the world doesn’t even reach 100 dollars—pocket change, if that. They think that not only are they unworthy of a good place at the table, but they shouldn’t even be invited to the banquet. Yet, Jesus the Good Shepherd would leave the ninety-nine to find you. No matter how you see yourself, Jesus looked at you and said, You are worth dying for. Each individual soul is of the utmost value to God. To paraphrase St. Augustine, “The whole universe, with all its good things, is not worth as much as the soul of one humble person.”

St. Paul said, “For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s possession.” (Romans 14:7-8)

We are given the freedom to set aside concerns about which seat we hold at the table. Why? Because we are all the Lord’s possessions. He bought us with His very own blood. Therefore, our one and only concern should be whether or not we are living a life worthy of an invitation to the banquet. That is why Paul and Jesus both became upset about this argument. It was never about who was the greatest or who would sit at the head table. It has always been about who would be invited to the banquet—who would attain salvation. 

Jesus’ life, every word and action, proclaims to you, You are worth more to me than life itself. I invite you to the banquet. I have a seat set aside just for you. Here, He says, is your invitation. All you need to do is accept.

Let us pray: O God, source of all life and goodness, you fashion human lives in your image and likeness, and through your love, give each human life dignity, sacredness, and priceless worth; awaken in every heart new reverence for the least of your children, and renew among your people a readiness to nurture and sustain your precious gift of human life at all stages, and in all conditions. Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 7 RCL C – “Pigs”

[Place pig on front pew]

Last week, we discussed how we are bombarded with so much information—74 GB every day. It’s no wonder we can never find our keys. Their location gets pushed out to make room for something else.

This week, I would like to talk about stuff. Not in general kind of stuff, but the stuff that fills our houses. I came across some amazing facts on the topic.

I don’t know who collects this kind of data, but the LA Times reports that the average American home contains 300,000 items. This is probably why one out of every ten American homes rents off-site storage and why another 25% of those with two-car garages can’t fit even one car in them.

3.1% of the children in the world live in the USA, but they are responsible for 40% of worldwide toy sales, averaging 238 toys per child.

When it comes to shopping, we spend more on shoes, jewelry, and watches than on higher education. Women in the USA and Europe will, on average, spend 8 years of their lives shopping.

Currently, the 12 percent of the world’s population that lives in North America and Western Europe accounts for 60 percent of private consumption spending, while the one-third of the world’s population living in South Asia and sub-Saharan Africa accounts for only 3.2 percent. Of that consumption, Americans spend $1.2 trillion on nonessential items—things we don’t need.

We have all this and desire even more for ourselves, but what’s funny (not haha) is the fact that even with all we spend, on average, we only donate 1.9% to charitable organizations. (Source for above statistics)

You might say, “None of that is true.” However, if you’ve ever had to move or clean out someone else’s house, you know it’s pretty much spot on.

You all know that my dad died last summer, and we had to go in and clean out his apartment. Throughout his life, he lived in larger places, and each time he moved, he collected more and more stuff. Later in life, he had to downsize. As a result, the number of items he had collected over the years became fewer and fewer. In the years before he died, he had a small but comfortable apartment, and all that stuff was distilled down to what he cherished the most— a piece of art or a picture of him walking on the beach with my niece.

At first, the task of cleaning out was overwhelming. What to do with this or that? Eventually, my brother and I decided that everyone could take what they wanted, and we would give the rest to Goodwill. In the end, my brother had about a shoebox full of things, and I made it up to a paper box along with some pictures. Other family members did the same. When we finished, at least 95% of what my dad valued went to Goodwill. It held value for him but not for anyone else, and that’s OK.

It’s not that we didn’t love our dad; it’s just that he valued things that weren’t important to us. I know that when I’m gone, the same thing will happen. Someone will come and clean out my place. There may or may not be anything that anyone wants to keep. If I’m in Enid, I suspect 98% of what I consider valuable will end up at one of the thrift stores. It’s all just “stuff.” 

That pig right there represents the 98% of my stuff that will end up in the thrift store, but it holds value for me. What would I trade my stuff for? What would I not? Better question: Who would I trade my stuff for? Who would I not?

Our Gospel reading today is from Mark. (The image on the front of your bulletin depicts the same event, but from Matthew’s perspective. Mark says there was only one demoniac, but Matthew says there were two.) Jesus enters the lands of the Gentiles and encounters a man who lives in the tombs near the city. Upon seeing Jesus, the man cries out, “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me.” What follows is the classic order of an exorcism. Jesus commands the demon to come out of the man, eventually gaining the demon’s name. The demon says its name is Legion. A legion in the Roman army consisted of 6,000 soldiers, so the man is possessed by many demons. Knowing that Jesus can cast them back into the abyss, they beg to be sent into a nearby herd of pigs. The demons had brought insanity and chaos to the man’s life, and they do the same to the pigs upon entering them. It drives them to madness, and they drown themselves.

The pigs might disagree, but this would appear to be a happy ending. The man is freed from his demons and asks to follow Jesus. However, the pig herders rushed to town to report what had happened. Upon hearing the news, the townspeople came out and essentially said the same thing to Jesus as the demon had, “What have you to do with us, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? We beg you, go away. We don’t want you here.”

Having witnessed such a miracle, why would the people not welcome Jesus? Why did they send Him away?

There are a number of fringe thoughts on this. Some say they recognized the divine in Jesus, and everyone knows you really don’t want your gods walking around among you. There’s no telling what they’ll do. Closely related to this is the fear of the supernatural. We fear what we don’t understand. Both of these fears are likely part of the answer; however, most people agree that they asked Jesus to leave because He had deprived them of their stuff. 

Mark said it was a “large herd of swine,” and Jesus had just inflicted a huge economic blow through their deaths. Notice that when the townspeople arrived, they didn’t give thanks for the recovery of the demon-possessed man. They didn’t even mention him. No, it was their pigs, which impacted their stuff, that they were upset about. They showed more concern for material possessions than for the soul of a man.

In our lives, we place value on people just as we place value on stuff. Family, spouses, and children are—or should be—at the top of the list. Next come close friends, and, in some cases, friends of friends—I think church family falls into those two categories. Then we have people we don’t even know but feel connected to, such as public figures, celebrities, and the like. These are followed by acquaintances and fellow countrymen (which is naturally divided by our biases: race, religion, creed, etc.), and finally, everyone else. The way we respond to each of these individuals and groups reflects the value we place on them. A child who is sick with a fever will receive far more thought, consideration, compassion, and support than, say, the 279 people who were killed in the Air India crash or the 500K who have been killed in Russia’s war on Ukraine. Stalin summarized this by saying, “One death is a tragedy. A million is a statistic.” It comes down to the way we’re wired, mentally and emotionally.

From that list, who would I trade my stuff for? Who would I not? What part of my stuff is the soul of a loved one worth? What part of my stuff is the soul of someone on the other side of the world worth? 

For someone we love, we’d likely give it all, but what about that person on the other side of the planet? You don’t know them. Maybe they’re Muslim or Hindu. They look very different from you—hair, skin color, clothes. What is the value of their soul?

St. John Chrysostom wrote, “I am not about to mourn over many cities, or whole nations, yet shall I mourn over a soul which is of equal value with many such nations, yea even more precious…. For it is not the overthrow of a city which I mourn, nor the captivity of wicked men, but the desolation of a sacred soul, the destruction and effacement of a Christ-bearing temple.” (Two Exhortations to Theodore After His Fall)

There are many ministries of the Church, but it is the salvation of souls that is our singular calling. So, I’m not going to chastise you over stuff, I don’t know that I’ve got 300,000 items, but I’ve got plenty. I’m not going to ask you to go on mission trips around the world, proclaiming the Good News. I’m not even going to ask you to give money to support the work of spreading the Gospel. Instead, I’m going to ask you to find one person, one soul, and do exactly what Jesus, in our Gospel reading, asks the demoniac to do: “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.” 

Within Judaism, there is a saying from the Mishnah, “Whoever saves a single life is considered to have saved the whole world.” (Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5) Archbishop of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey, teaches us, “The one man, one woman, one child, are of infinite worth to God. … For the infinite worth of the one is the key to the Christian understanding of the many.” (The Christian Priest Today, 42)

“Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you,” for the one soul you speak to is of infinite worth to our God.

Let us pray: Heavenly Father, pour forth your Holy Spirit to inspire us. Stir in our souls the desire to renew our faith and deepen our relationship with your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, so that we might truly believe in and live the Good News. Open our hearts to hear the Gospel and grant us the confidence to proclaim the Good News to others. Pour out your Spirit, so that we might be strengthened to go forth and witness to the Gospel in our everyday lives through our words and actions. Amen.

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Sermon: Epiphany 3 RCL B – “Worth”

Photo by Francisco Fernandes on Unsplash

A legend from India tells about a mouse who was terrified of cats until a magician agreed to transform him into a cat. That resolved his fear … until he met a dog, so the magician changed him into a dog. The mouse-turned-cat-turned-dog was content until he met a tiger—so, once again, the magician changed him into what he feared. But when the tiger came complaining that he had met a hunter, the magician refused to help. “I will make you into a mouse again, for though you have the body of a tiger, you still have the heart of a mouse.”

In our society, we’ve become very accustomed to going out and purchasing the things we need. Need a new watch. Go and buy it. Need a new car? You can drive one off the lot today. From the highest tech item to the lowly turnip, if you need it, you can find somewhere to buy it. But what if, instead of being able to buy it, you had to make it or grow it? In the end, you would have a lot less, and there are a good many people who wouldn’t survive. 

I forget where I read it, but the speaker gave the example of a fork. He held it up and asked, “Who could make it?” In the end, everyone realized that no one person could. You need someone to mine the ore, smelt the ore, form the iron… down to working with the iron to make the fork. Very few possess the skills or knowledge to accomplish the task. Therefore, we need one another to live and survive. Each must play their part. That’s where the discernment process comes in—identifying who has what skills and what knowledge and where they are best suited. Once discerned, society will put them to work. Therefore, in many cases, it is the society that determines a person’s worth—their value. 

If society deems you this quality of person, then you can do this. If they deem you this, then you can do that. Aldus Huxley, in Brave New World, wrote, “A really efficient totalitarian state would be one in which the all-powerful executive of political bosses and their army of managers control a population of slaves who do not have to be coerced because they love their servitude.” Perhaps we don’t live in a totalitarian state, but we can fall into the trap of allowing society to define our value and worth. Once there, it is difficult to become more.

Not only does this play out in the secular world, but it is also true in our life in the Church and with God. Others observe our lives, actions, words, etc.—our entire being—and based on those observations, we are categorized: saint, sinner, backslider, pious, and so on. If you follow all the rules in the book, then you may fall in the saint category, but go out and get a tattoo and drink a little whiskey; well, you might as well be writing your own ticket to hell. In the process of assigning our category, we are also assigned a value in the Christian community. And, as with the secular world, we can fall into a trap—this is what everyone thinks I’m worth, so this must be it. This is as good as I’ll get. 

Using the illustration of iron, if you mine and smelt some iron and end up with 1,000 grams (about 2.25 pounds) of steel, you’ll have a steel bar valued at about $100. If you take that 1000 grams and turn it into horseshoes, you will have increased its value to $250. If you took the same amount of steel and turned it into sewing needles, you would have increased its value to $70,000. Turn it into gears and springs for watches—$6M. Use those same 1,000 grams of steel for precision electronics and computers, and you’ll have increased the value of your $100 hunk of metal to $15M. 

The world says you and your 1,000 grams of flesh are worth a few horseshoes, and you believe it. And not only do you believe it, you live it. When the same idea is applied to your life with God, you live that too. “I guess if I’m writing a ticket to hell, I might as well write a good one!” Once that frame of mind is set, it tends to stick. The world has defined that person, and that person fulfills the world’s expectations. 

St. Paul would refer to the spirit that lives in such a person as the “old man.” In Ephesians, he says that those who live such a life “have become callous and have given themselves up to sensuality, greedy to practice every kind of impurity.” (Ephesians 4:19) We can fall into the trap of the “old man,” and it sticks. Not only does it stick, like those living in Aldus Huxley’s totalitarian state, but even though we may want something different, we love where we are. It is what we know, and it is comfortable.

My friend, Thomas Merton, writes, “For the ‘old man,’ everything is old: he has seen everything or thinks he has. He has lost hope in anything new. What pleases him is the ‘old’ he clings to, fearing to lose it, but he is certainly not happy with it. And so he keeps himself ‘old’ and cannot change: he is not open to any newness. His life is stagnant and futile. And yet, there may be much movement, but change that leads to no change. The more it changes, the more it’s the same…. The old man lives without life. He lives in death.” (March 22)

That is the trap of allowing the world around us to determine our value, and it is a tricky trap to get out of, but what if we dismissed the world’s assessment and allowed Jesus to determine our value? What if we said, “I’m no longer going to be the person that the world wants and expects me to be.” What if we even said, “I’m not going to be limited to the value my friends and family place on me.” What if we said, “I’m going to allow my value to be determined by God. God and only God will decide what this 1,000-gram hunk of flesh is worth.” How, then, would you begin to see yourself? How, then, would you begin to reevaluate your value in light of the fact that Jesus has already determined you are of infinite worth? You can disagree with that if you want. You can say, “I’m not of infinite worth to God.” And I will argue with you, and my first move in that argument will be to point to you Christ on the Cross. I’ll wait for your rebuttal. You are of infinite worth to God… so, there.

The Apostles Simon and Andrew grew up in Bethsaida, which was on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Bethsaida means House of the Fisherman, so given its location and name, it is safe to assume it was a fishing village. Given the nature of that society, it was expected that Simon and Andrew would grow up to be fishermen. The world defined them, determined their value, and they lived into it. It doesn’t mean it was bad; it just was; however, “As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’”

The world had assigned them a value, and then Jesus came along and said, “No. You are of greater value—infinite worth. Follow me, and I will take what little you and everyone else think you are and show you all how wrong you are. Follow me, and I will take the ‘old man’ and transform him into something new.” Jesus said, “The mouse-turned-cat-turned-dog-turned-tiger was returned to its original form because it was a tiger with the heart of a mouse, but I see your true worth; you are a mouse with the heart of a tiger. Follow me and begin to see in yourself what I see in you. Live into it.” What did the disciples do? “Immediately left everything and followed Him.” They left the “old man” behind.

Jesus points to you—each of you—and says, “Follow me.” Step outside of the opinions and value that others have placed on you, allow Jesus to define your worth, and follow Him. In doing so, you’ll discover your infinite worth in the eyes of God, and you will become the person He created you to be.

Let us pray: Lord Jesus Christ, You call us to follow You. Help us to drop our nets and abide in You. We are your disciples, committed to finding the ways that You strengthen our lives. Touch our hearts, enlighten our minds, stir our spirits. Teach us to share the fruits of our faith. Keep us by your side in faith, Lord Jesus. Amen.

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Sermon: Proper 20 RCL A – “The Other’s Worth”

Photo by Tina Witherspoon on Unsplash

With his ferocious roar, large paws with sharp claws, and prideful mane, an egotistical lion roamed the jungle, asking the other animals who the king of the jungle was. “Who’s the king of the jungle?” the lion roared at a monkey. “Why you are, Mr. Lion,” said the monkey with fear in his voice. The lion continued and found a zebra. “Who’s the king of the jungle?” he snarled. “There is no doubt about it. You are Mr. Lion,” said the zebra.

Then, the lion came upon an elephant. Once again, he roared out the question, “Who’s the king of the jungle?” The elephant used his trunk and grabbed the lion by his tail. He spun him around over his head several times, dunked him in a mud hole, and slammed him into a large tree. Dazed and dirty, the lion said, “Well, just because you didn’t know the answer was no reason to get upset.”

When taken out of context, our Gospel reading today can speak about many things. There is the message of equality: everyone should be treated equally and fairly. I am confident that this is a message that will be preached in many churches today. It is not a wrong message, but it does not appear to be what Jesus was speaking about. 

There’s also the message of God’s economy. We remember the verse from Ezekiel, “Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, declares the Lord God, and not rather that he should turn from his way and live?” (18:23) Or there’s the one from Second Peter, “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.” (3:9) That works very well because we see that regardless of someone coming to God late in life—when they go to work in the field—they receive the same reward as those who arrived early. We can even run with that, speaking about our sense of fairness and so on. That also is a good message, but it is not quite right in the context of what is going on around the parable.

In context, the parable is a warning to the disciples because they are acting like that silly prideful lion, walking around as though they were the king of the jungle.  

What is the context of the parable? It falls closely on the heels of the Mohammad Ali discussion about who is the greatest, which is closely followed by the disciples rebuking those who were bringing the children for Jesus to bless—a sign that they thought they were too important and too busy to be bothered with such trivialities. Following this is the encounter with the rich young man and his question to Jesus, “Teacher, what good deed must I do to have eternal life?” (Matthew 19:16) We know that he goes away sad because he had much. Jesus told him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” (Matthew 19:21) When the young man walks away sorrowful, Peter says, “See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?” (Matthew 19:27) Jesus responds, ‘Yes, Peter, you’ll all get a reward,’ but then Jesus adds, “But many who are first will be last, and the last first.” (Matthew 19:30) Immediately after saying that, Jesus tells the parable we heard today.

Yes, taken out of context, it can say many things, but in context, the parable is a response to Peter’s question and a further explanation of what is meant by “Many who are first will be last, and the last first.” It is as though Jesus were saying to Peter and the disciples, “Yes, you’ve been with me from the beginning, but that does not make you a privileged class.” Why would that be? Because what we receive from God is not some sort of payment. There is no time clock where you punch in and get time-and-a-half for overtime. That is not what we receive from God. What we do receive from God is grace, and God’s grace is not measured by our standards but by His, and His standard is Christ Jesus. As St. Paul tells us, “Grace was given to each one of us according to the measure of Christ’s gift.” (Ephesians 4:7) Christ’s Gift is the same for us all. It is not earned in any way, shape or form. You do not receive more than anyone else.

Did the disciples get it? No. Very shortly after the telling of this parable, the mother of James and John came to Jesus—the two of them hiding behind her apron—and she said, “Say that these two sons of mine are to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.” (Matthew 20:21) It is one of those moments where you can see Jesus rubbing his forehead in frustration.

The parable of the workers was a message and warning to the disciples; therefore, it is also a message and a warning to us. In this life, so many believe the saying, “Whoever dies with the most toys wins,” but with God, we have all received more than we can ask for or imagine. We do the things we are called to, not because we are hoping to “earn” more, but because God has chosen us to do them.

In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus speaks to the disciples about faithfulness. He says, “Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and recline at table’? Will he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink’? Does he thank the servant because he did what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.’” (Luke 17:7-10) In today’s parable, those who had worked all day but received the same pay as those who worked only an hour came to the landowner and complained, “These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” Instead of such complaints, Jesus is saying they should have received with grateful hearts what they received and responded, “We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.” 

That is a hard lesson to hear and understand in our competitive and reward-driven society. Dick Weiss, a former writer and editor for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, said, “A few years ago, my former newspaper did a study in which interviewers asked readers who or what was most important to them. Their answer was, in some ways, surprising. Many did not say their families, children, or God. Instead, their answer was: ‘Me.’” With God, you are worth the life of His Son, Jesus. That is not in question, but what we must remember is… so is everyone else. In the eyes of God, we are of equal worth, and we have been bought with a price—the Blood of Jesus. If that is the case, then how are we to act?

Have I ever told you that I’m a Trekky? I’ve been watching Star Trek since I was a kid and loving every episode and movie. One of the more recent movies, Into the Darkness, came out in 2009. In this one, Mr. Spock and Lieutenant Uhura (you know who these people are!) have a romantic thing. At one point, there is a devastating event, and Mr.—never show any emotions—Spock becomes very emotional and distressed. Seeing this and wanting to comfort the one she loves, Lieutenant Uhura goes to Spock, kisses him softly, and asks, “What do you need?” Mr. Spock pauses, then responds, “I need everyone to continue performing admirably.”

Jesus said, “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21) Jesus said, ‘In your work for God, do not live like you are working for a coin. Instead, work with the knowledge that you have already received the greatest gift imaginable.” Don’t act like some prideful lion. You may get slapped around by the elephant. Don’t stop to worry about this person or that, but admirably, continue doing the work you have been chosen to perform so that, in the end, all may receive the greatest gift of all.

Let us pray: Heavenly Father, you have called us all to holiness, which means sharing in your divine life. Fill us with a sense of our true dignity as those called to be your daughters and sons in the world and your ambassadors of justice, love, and peace. Give us the desire to be worthy of this great calling and the courage to live up to it. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

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