The Nitty Gritty of Service

As we head into Holy Week, I am always reminded that nothing makes a group of liturgical Christians more uncomfortable than talk about evangelizing, serving, or having their feet washed! We somehow shy away from this notion that we are to be actively engaged with one another: helping, uplifting, sorting through the chaos of life, really serving one another.  I have also encountered those who have an active resistance to their leader/priest/pastor being engaged in servile activities--no yard work, no dirty/messy jobs, nothing that will break a sweat.  

Yet Jesus shows us the opposite of the far removed, neatly groomed church person!  We are here to sit in the darkness, get into the mess of peoples' lives. Jesus talks with sinners, eats with tax collectors, talks to women, has his feet washed, washes others' feet, touches the sick, gets into the nitty gritty of this life in every way imaginable. Sure, who among us does not love to go out to eat and to be served?  But, Jesus tells us the truly important people in life are the ones doing the service, not the ones paying for it.  This is wholly contrary to our culture.

I am sure that "serving the Lord" means different things to different people.  For me, being able to give freely with the welfare of the other person in mind is key. For example, my sister and I often joke when we give a gift, especially a spontaneous one that is not tied to a birthday or special occasion: "oh, you shouldn't have done that," she will say.  And I always respond, "I do what I want to do." 

Real service flows from love and from being able to give to another without counting the measure.  I am always saddened when folks in church get mad, or family members get angry with one another, and say something like "and after all I have done for you/this church!" Service is not about keeping score. You give, let go, and forget. This is hard to do in a culture that measures everything, even relationships, in terms of power.

There comes a freedom and graceful satisfaction in giving and letting go, in being able to do for another and enjoy the inner fruits of that satisfaction. I believe the more we do this the more we groom ourselves as followers of Jesus: this is the primary action of those walking the Way.  While the business world measures us by our productivity and capability, and throws us away when we do not measure up, the people who follow Jesus draw near to those who dwell in darkness, who walk through the valley of death, and we wait, we serve, we love.

Yes, people often fail to show gratitude, they disappoint us, or even ignore us.  But, if we are rooted in doing what God commands and not glued to the rear view mirror then we are free from the expectations we might place on others.  Real gift, real service is not tied to that.  Ever.  

How might we better find this inner stewardship as we march to Easter? How might we better root ourselves in the freedom of serving?  

May we pray to forget the cost of discipleship as it is measured by this world and our churches. May we know the cost of discipleship in God's unfolding kingdom, an energy and wisdom which propels us into this sacred moment and the ones to come.

A prayer from Walter Brueggemann:

Before our well-being, there was your graciousness,

before our delight, there was your generosity,

before our joy, there was your good will.

We are second and you are first.

You are there initially with your graciousness, your generosity,

your good will--

and we receive from your inscrutable goodness grace upon grace,

gift upon gift, life upon life

--because you are there at the beginning,

at all our beginnings.

For a quick glimpse, we move out beyond our competence,

our productivity, our self-sufficiency

--in our new freedom what we glimpse is you--

outpouring yourself unreservedly in the midst of our hurt

and toward our hopes.

You are there in the splendor of your self-giving.

So we speak our timid, trembling praise back to you,

timid because we are no match for your goodness,

trembling because our praise means turning our life to you,

But we do turn loose to you,

source and goal of our very life.

Our gratitude arises out of the dailiness of our well-being,

of meals regularly before us, of folks regularly caring for us,

of homes regularly warm and safe, of sleep regularly refreshing,

of new days regularly given against the darkness,

of work regularly filling our days with order and diginity.

And in our taken-for-granted regularity,

we discern your abiding and fidelity that holds our worlds

toward well-being.

Our gratitude wells up in the midst of such regularity--

new words spoken, new children born,

new vistas opened, new risks taken,

new words uttered that heal.

We dare confess that in these startling breaking points,

we glimpse your powerful care

which runs beyond our capacity to manage

and beyond our exhausted capacity to cope.

You...after all our best efforts,

it is you, you who hold and you who break.

And we are grateful.

Amen.