Posts Tagged ‘reward’

God doesn’t owe us anything

October 1, 2016

Pentecost 20 – 2016

Luke 17:(1-4) 5-10

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whom we are pleased to serve. Amen.

An irrelevant piece of information: I am a Queen’s Guide. What that means is that I conscientiously fulfilled a number of requirements that enabled me to demonstrate that I had skills in a number of areas including cooking, camping, orienteering, sewing, collecting and so on. Over a number of years I earned badges of sufficient variety and quantity that I was deemed to have passed the requirements to receive the highest award in the guiding movement. It took a great deal of effort and though it barely matters now, I was glad to have my hard work recognised. Gaining the award was celebrated with a huge campfire, lots of singing, a special name and a certain amount of ceremony.

There are many things that we do with an expectation that we will be rewarded. Whether it is our school or university results, promotions at work, the success of our children or sporting prowess there is usually some sort of scale that tells us how well we have done, particularly how well we have done in comparison to others. So we get grades for our academic work, pay rises for promotions; we glow in our children’s reflected glory and accept medals or trophies for sporting success. When we have studied, worked or trained hard, it feels good to be rewarded for the effort we have expended.

Yet, even in this society which values and rewards success and achievement, there are still many who do things without any thought of reward. For example, the homicide detectives who put their personal lives on hold as they work tirelessly to ensure that a killer is found and a family is given some sort of answers in the face of awful tragedy[1]. They at least sometimes get thanked or commended for their sacrifices. There are however, literally hundreds and thousands of carers who look after an elderly or sick parent or spouse or who spend a lifetime caring for a child with a disability. These, the most draining and most demanding of tasks come with little to no recognition and yet those doing the caring mostly do so selflessly and lovingly – their only reward the knowledge that their parent, spouse or child is receiving the very best care that they can give.

Today’s gospel combines a number of Jesus’ sayings, that don’t necessarily seem to fit together until we remember that it is during Jesus journey to Jerusalem that he instructs his disciples. From the time that Jesus “set his face to Jerusalem” (9:51) we have been confronted with a number of difficult sayings about discipleship – “let the dead bury the dead”, “no one who doesn’t not hate mother or father is not fit to be a disciple”, “take the lower seat”, “take up your cross” and so on. Jesus knows what awaits him in Jerusalem and he does not want his disciples to be naïve about the cost of following him – a journey that leads to the cross.

It is in this context that we have to look at this morning’s collection of sayings.

Jesus has recently told the complex parable of the dishonest steward and the challenging parable about the rich man and Lazarus. Now, as if Jesus hasn’t made enough demands, he warns the disciples against being the cause of someone else’s failures and insists that if someone offends them they are to forgive seven times each day!

No wonder the disciples respond by asking Jesus to increase their faith! What Jesus is asking of them must seem to be impossible – they are going to need all the help they can get.

As we have heard, Jesus’ response is two-fold. In the first instance they don’t need any more faith than they have. Even their small amount of faith is sufficient to achieve the impossible and even the improbable. What faith the disciples do have comes from God and God who gives them faith can use that faith if only they take the risk of faith and allow God’s power to work through them.

Secondly, Jesus reminds the disciples that it is important that they do not exercise their role in the believing community with the hope of reward. Serving God and serving each other should be its own reward[2]. In other words, the disciples and now ourselves live out our discipleship faithfully as our response to God’s presence in our lives, not because we are looking over our shoulder and hoping that God will to tap us on our shoulder and say “well done”.

The story of the slave and master is a reminder to them and to us that we cannot earn our own salvation. As Tom Wright puts it: “We cannot put God in our debt”[3]. The story is a warning against the temptation to try to build up credit points for ourselves, to rely on our own efforts rather than on what God has done for us, to create a superficial image of goodness and obedience, or to arrogantly think that we are as able as God to pass judgement on our own behaviour. In other words, if we serve God only for what we think we can get out of that service, then we have misunderstood.

Everything we have we have from God, including our faith. As disciples we serve God willingly and happily, not reluctantly or ungraciously. We serve God not with any thought of what we will get in return, but in joyful gratitude for what we already have.

Faith is not a duty or a burden, but a privilege and a gift. Surely that is sufficient reward for what little we may do in return.

[1] A detective who worked on the Jill Meagher case wiped away tears as he reported that over the years he had missed his children’s birthdays including his daughter’s 21st.

[2] We do not have to be uncomfortable about the image of slavery. Slavery was so commonplace in Jesus’ time that the original hearers would not have taken any offense in thinking of themselves as “worthless slaves”.

[3] N.T. Wright. Luke for Everyone. Great Britain: SPCK, 2002, 204.

Serving God is its own reward

October 5, 2013

Pentecost 20

Luke 17:5-10

Marian Free

In the name of God in whose service we give our all – expecting no reward, but the privilege of serving our God and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Amen.

In March this year a number of people received awards for bravery or courage. Trevor Burns was awarded the Star of Courage for saving a dive operator from a shark attack. Not only did he pull the shark off the woman, but, as other members of the group made their way to the safety of the boat, Trevor stayed in the bloodied water to dive down to the sinking woman and pull her to the surface. Raymond Bruckner and Ernst Gomsi took a canoe into raging flood water to rescue two men who had been thrown out of their aluminum boat by the swift flowing water. In the process Gomsi himself was tossed into the water, but was able to be retrieved. The actions of these two men saved the lives of the others. Brett Morrissey smashed a door and then a window to enter a burning house to rescue a child. When he learned that a woman remained inside, he returned to bring her out as well. All four put their own lives at risk to save the life of a stranger. (For these and other stories go to: http://www.govhouse.qld.gov.au)

If asked, these and the many others who have received such awards would have said that they didn’t think about what they were doing or the danger to themselves, but that they were only doing what anyone else would have done in the same situation. Often such people are genuinely surprised to be receiving any recognition because they are convinced that they have done nothing out of the ordinary! Many, many people do extraordinary things in the course of their work or their everyday lives and think nothing of it. Aid workers and peacekeepers often put their own lives (and certainly their comfort) at risk serving people in refugee camps, war-torn or disaster ravaged countries and paramedics and emergency service workers are confronted with horrifying situations on a regular basis – often putting their own lives at risk for the sake of others.

Other people are heroic in ways that will never be publicly recognised. Think of the hundreds of parents who give all they have to care for a child with a disability, the children who ungrudgingly care for elderly parents, those who uncomplainingly live with a disability and those who cheerfully carry out mundane or dull tasks which are essential for the well-being of the wider community, but which are taken for granted and only noticed by their absence. All of these people would say that they are only doing what anyone else would do in their situation, or that they are only doing what is required of them. None of them would think that they were doing anything out of the ordinary.

Of course, the opposite is true. Some people take foolish risks in the hope that they will stand out from the crowd. There are some that find their responsibilities burdensome and unwelcome and there are many that grumble at the routine of their daily work or the lack of recognition they receive for what they do.

In today’s gospel, Jesus addresses the question of whether, in our faith lives we do things for recognition or whether faith itself is reward enough. In the first century somewhere between thirty to forty percent of the population of the Roman Empire were slaves. Their conditions varied depending on whether or not they were working in the mines or running someone’s estate, or whether their owner was kind or vicious. However, even those in the best positions were never anything more than a slave. It would have been inconceivable for anyone to imagine the scenario Jesus puts before his audience: an owner suggesting a slave sit at the table after a hard day’s work. Such an offer would diminishes the master’s status and respect. It would be a reversal of roles that would  be inconceivable. The expectation of both master and slave would be that the slave would have to complete his or her tasks – including ensuring their owner had eaten – before considering their own needs.

Throughout history people have followed Jesus, not for any external reward or recognition, but simply for the privilege of being counted among the faithful. Saints have not spent lives in prayer and reflection so that they might be singled out from the crowd. They have done so because their lives would have held no meaning if they did not. Martyrs have not gone to their deaths thinking: this will make me more important than other Christians. They have simply have accepted death as one consequence of a life of faith. Missionaries and others have not carried out their work in the belief that one day they will be set apart as those who did more for the Gospel. They have responded to the call of God and shared with others a faith they believe to be life-changing. People like Mother Teresa have not given up lives of comfort to live among the poor because they thought that one day they would be elevated as super Christians. All these people have lived lives of faith for the rewards of knowing and being known by God and by Christ our Saviour.

We too, in good times and in bad, confidently and timidly, with greater or lesser prayerfulness or holiness, commit ourselves to faith in Jesus Christ, not because we expect God to single us out for praise, not because we are competing with each other for God’s attention, not because we want to stand out from the crowd, but because we have heard the call of Christ and have done no less than what we were compelled to do. Life in the service of our Redeemer is a reward in itself.

A scandalous God

September 14, 2013

Pentecost 17   2013

Luke 15:11-32

Marian Free 

In the name of God who cares not what we have done, only that we  trust God enough to return home. Amen.

If you were to read the Gospel of Mark (or even Matthew or John), you would look in vain for the best-loved and best known stories and parables. If we did not have the Gospel of Luke there would be no shepherds to accompany the Christmas story and no manger to adorn our Christmas cards, no accounts of Jesus’ childhood or reports of thankfulness (the ten lepers).  The parable of the Good Samaritan and the parable of the Prodigal Son would be nowhere to be found. Parables which are so well-known that they are part of our cultural heritage would have been lost.

Luke’s gospel has another claim on our attention. The author, for reasons that we can only guess, likes numbers (or repetition). Where other gospels only have one story, or one character, Luke often has two. For example, in Mark’s Gospel, there is only one Gerassene demoniac; in Luke there are two. There are two parables for guests and hosts (14:7-14) and two parables about counting the cost (14:28-33). Luke also presents pairs of stories: a man is healed and a woman is healed (13:10-17, 14:1-6). (In fact, stories of men are often paired with similar stories which feature women – for eg the annunciation to Zechariah (1:5-25) and the annunciation to Mary (1:26-38)).

This pattern of repeating a story or an event is evident in the stories of the lost. The parable of the lost sheep is joined by the parables of the lost coin and the lost son both of which are unique to Luke’s gospel. Perhaps the author of the Gospel is using repetition to ensure that his readers really understand the (shocking) point that Jesus is making – that God seeks out the lost and expects those who are found (or who have never strayed) to understand that such seeking is integral to the nature of God. Despite their popular names, these parables are of course about God – not the sheep or the coin or the son. For that reason, what is popularly known as the parable of the prodigal son is better called the parable of the Forgiving Father.

Just as the parable of the lost sheep is designed to shock and confound the listeners, so too, the parable about the son is intended to shake people out of their complacency and to force them to see God, and their faith, from a different perspective. According to these parables, God does not behave in the way that God is expected to behave – rewarding the good and excluding those who stray from the straight and narrow path. In fact, to the surprise of Jesus’ listeners (and perhaps to many of us today) God behaves in exactly the opposite way.

It is not the complacent, independent, law-observing believers who are God’s primary concern. In fact such people are often so self-assured that they seem to believe that they can achieve salvation by their own efforts and who do not recognise their faults and failures. (They don’t need God to assist them). God, as depicted by the parables of the lost, is more concerned with those “outside” those, who like the younger son, become aware of their own shortcomings and throw themselves on God’s mercy.

In order to understand the scandalous behaviour of the father (God) in the story, we have to understand the cultural context. In the first instance, we have to be aware that in the culture of the time, honour was a very important value. The son has shamed the father (and himself) in multiple ways: by asking for the inheritance, by spending it unwisely and by working with the pigs. At the same time, no self-respecting man would allow a son to insist that the estate be divided, nor would he welcome back the same son after he had wasted the money in loose living.

However, contrary to expectations, the son is not cast off. In fact, it seems that the father has been hoping for, watching for his return (15:19). Not only that, the father casts aside all pride and dignity and runs down the road to meet him! He is so glad to see the son that he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. For Jesus’ listeners this would be outrageous behaviour – the father doesn’t even know that the son is sorry – only that he is coming home and that is all that he needs to know.

As Jesus continually reminds us, God’s values, kingdom values are often the reverse of human/worldly values. (The poor will be blessed, those who weep will laugh. Do not only love those who can love you in return and so on.) What is more, the conventions and standards of the kingdom do not conform to the conventions and practices of the world. God can and does behave in ways that many of us would consider scandalous or unfair.

This parable has a coda. While the main action is between the father and the younger son, we are also given an insight into the reaction of the older brother – the one who remained behind. He represents all the good, law-abiding Jews, who are – not surprisingly – horrified by the father’s shocking behaviour and incensed that all their efforts to behave appropriately are not given more recognition, that they are not commended and rewarded for doing what is right.

It has been my experience that most people who hear or read this parable, identify with the older son.  They have a very human idea of fairness and justice and while they might think God is wonderful for welcoming the younger boy, they experience at the same time some disquiet that the older son receives no extra recompense for his conformity and his dutiful behaviour.

This is exactly the attitude that Jesus is trying to confront and to challenge. Jesus has identified a mind-set that is likely to cause some good, well-intentioned believers some difficulty. That is that they will find it difficult to accept that God behaves in ways that contradict their expectation, that the values of the kingdom are not the same as the values of the world and that the economy of exchange (if I do this, I receive that) does not count for anything in the world to come.

The problem is this: there is only one reward (eternal life) and only one way to receive it (faith). That means that at the end ALL those who have faith will receive the same reward – whether they come to faith only in old age after a life-time of crime or debauchery, or whether they have been faithful and well-behaved for an entire life-time. If faith is the sole criterion for inheritance of the kingdom of heaven, God will not be grading us according to any other criteria.

The sooner we grasp this concept the better. We would not want our resentment and bitterness to exclude us from a gift we have spent a lifetime longing for. We would not like to be like the older brother – so angry at God’s grace and generosity to others that despite God’s pleading we refuse to go in.