Mike and his two best friends were turning forty, and because of the pressure of work and family, they had fallen out of shape. So they decided to get into shape together. This was going to be the year. They signed up for a get-fit program run by a retired army sergeant. The program was 90 minutes three days a week, starting at 6:30 a.m. By lunchtime the first day, Mike could hardly move. When he woke up the next morning and tried to get out of bed, his body refused. The contortions that followed in order for him to get his two feet on the floor had his wife howling with laughter.
On the first day of the second week, Mike was not feeling that well. The first week had taken its toll, he had spent the weekend running around to events, and drank too much at a party. About fifteen minutes into the class that Monday morning he requested permission to sit out for five minutes and catch his breath. ‘No,’ was the sergeant’s answer. ‘But I have a cramp and I think I need to stretch it out.’ ‘No, that’s not your problem.’ ‘What is my problem?’ ‘Your problem is you are very fat, you’re very lazy, and you are mentally weak. Now, shake it off and get back in there before I make you give me a hundred push-ups’ (Matthew Kelly, Resisting Happiness, 131-132). I couldn’t stop laughing when I heard this story, because the sergeant’s challenge is not what I expected, but Mike needed to hear it, which is why he’s shared the story.
In the same way, a friend recently exposed my complaining, and that really helped me. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.
When I was praying over today’s Readings, I wanted something easy. But the Gospel’s challenge was actually what I needed, because my perspective has been off. Jesus says, “Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’” (Lk 17:7-10).
Do we consider ourselves slaves? Jesus did. He said that He did not come to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many. A slave is someone who, after working a full day, has to work some more. That’s what Jesus did: Even after being arrested and tortured, He still went further, all the way to death.
We’re supposed to see ourselves as servants of God and therefore not be surprised when sufferings come our way or when unexpected but legitimate requests are made of us.
Yes, it’s more fundamental that we are children of God and that we are loved. Because of this, we should take care of ourselves and not be exhausting ourselves helping others. However, children of God are servants of God, who lay down their lives to be like the only-begotten Son of God.
We have to hold these two truths in tension: There are times when we need to take care of ourselves, and there are times when we are stretched beyond our limit. How do we know when is the proper time for each? Follow principles. Sleep is important. But, when someone legitimately needs us, then we sacrifice our sleep. On the other hand, in Mike’s story, when he stays out late, drinks too much, and then complains that he’s out of shape, he’s suffering because he’s not following principles.
Think about this example right from the parable. The word ‘plowing’ refers elsewhere to building the Kingdom of God (Cf. Lk 9:62); ‘tending sheep’ is taking care of other Christians (Acts 20:28); ‘eating and drinking’ refer to the Eucharist (1 Cor 11:25-26). So, even after we work hard during the week, we’re still expected to come to Mass on Sunday, because it’s the most important action.
One time, when a bishop was with St. John Paul II, he tried to thank him in Latin, ‘Tu es bonus pastor,’ that is, ‘You are a good shepherd,’ and John Paul replied, ‘No, ego sum inutilis servus’, that is, ‘I am a useless servant.’ This is a variation from today’s Gospel, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done.’ He believed this truth so much that it came out of his mouth when someone complimented him.
Do we think of ourselves as ‘worthless slaves’? Not because we are worthless, but because we’re willing to endure the worst possible work if it’s for God; we’re willing to put up with all sorts of inconveniences and sufferings for His sake. There’s a famous line: “He who honestly puts himself in the last place is not astonished when others put him there, too” (Fr. Jean d’Elbée, I Believe in Love, 124). Humble people are not astonished when they’re humiliated. Holy people do not fight against injustice because their pride is wounded, but because injustice is wrong.
The morning I prayed over these Readings, I was focused on serving myself. Jesus reminded me that I’m a servant and that I shouldn’t complain.
Have you ever had an angel in your life? Someone who does such helpful service, without complaint, without a desire for gratitude, and then disappears? I want to be the person who offers help joyfully. Jesus wants us to be that person. We’ll talk about that more next week.
By Jesus’ grace, we will no longer be surprised when suffering comes our way or unexpected but legitimate requests are made of us. We are servants like Him, and we do what we have to do.