There are times when all the things that we feel we must do tend to overwhelm us.  It comes with the hectic stride of our Western world of busyness and “keeping up” with the obligations that we feel compelled to fulfill regarding our “placement” in life.  As mothers and fathers, we have the ever-demanding role of constantly providing care and guidance to our children as they grow to become adults and even beyond.  As sons and daughters, we face the reversal of this model of care and guidance as our parents grow into old age.  Job responsibilities and education requirements take up much of our time.  And indeed for most in the world, everyday life and its seeming unsurmountable “obligations” are centered solely upon finding food and nourishment for ourselves and our loved ones.  Add to all this the sometimes sense of feeling under-appreciated for what we are doing, and we have a sometimes dangerous recipe for the heart.

Luke tells us in today’s Gospel (Lk 17:7-10) a little bit about “obligations,” but with a different perspective on perhaps the source of what we may feel are indeed our obligations.  Jesus asks his apostles, who among them would invite their “servants” who have been working out in the fields all day to come and sit at the table and serve them?  He quite boldly proclaims that the “master” would instead instruct the servants, returning from their toil to at once wait on the “master,” i.e., serve food and drink at the “master’s command.”  Jesus presents this somewhat suspicious model, given the world history of “the master servant” mindset, with a different twist:

“ ‘So should it be with you. When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’”

I’m not convinced that Jesus is telling his apostles to act within a “master and slave” setting wherein the master is operating from a mindset that dehumanizes the “servant” and without respect commands the servant to do whatever is desired.  Although, it is quite clear that this mentality has plagued cultures in world history constantly and still operates in both overt and sometimes disguised ways even today.  Perhaps, Jesus is, as he tells us so often in the parables, using a familiar setting and giving it a different perspective.

It would seem that the “master” in the Gospel story is Jesus Himself.  We seek to follow Jesus the Christ and participate in all that God may be calling us to be and do in our lives.  But what is the criteria for what “masters” us?  Apparently, it is not the constant reciting of “all the things we have done and have yet to do.”  It’s a “placement” that we receive from God, perhaps.  This is the “servant” model that Jesus the Christ showed us and lived for us in His human and divine life, most profoundly witnessed in the Eucharist – the suffering, death, and resurrection, which is patterned for us (John’s Gospel) to live in our own lives, in the “washing of the feet” model that Jesus instituted as Eucharist.  This is the ultimate “servant” model.  It is then, much more than a “placement,” indeed, a great GIFT!

Jesus seems to be insisting that loving compassion for each other, in all our brokenness, is the source which elicits from us the response of “servanthood.”  The Master is Compassion.  Wherever compassion leads us (commands us), we must go.  This is the “obligation” that we have as “servants” of God.  Unfortunately, we follow the traditional notion of “master and servant,” as it contributes to structures of exclusion, dehumanization, and life-denying behaviors.  In our attempts to set ourselves up as “masters” of our lives, we sometimes take on projects of busyness with actions that we may even convince ourselves are for our “betterment” and the betterment of others, without seeing that we are elevating ourselves by attempting to lower others, resulting in a society of dualisms that suffocate real community.

It seems to work exactly in the reverse order in the “servant” kingdom of God.  Jesus is constantly speaking of the “narrow gate” and the embracing of brokenness as constituting what is truly blessed.  As we heard on All Saints Day recently, it’s the beatitudes that capture what it means to be holy saints.  The saint is the servant who acts purely in response to the commands of compassion; Being by embracing – the poor, the lowly, the peacemakers, the merciful.

One unsettling aspect of this compassionate response elicited by our engagement with the brokenness of each other is that it will not always bring a response of appreciation.  That can be a hard pill to swallow.  Again though, it goes back to the source of our response.  Are we doing something for others (or thinking that we are doing something for others) in a spirit of self-aggrandizement wherein the “effectiveness” of our compassion is based upon whether or not we receive a “thank you” in the end?

This is where I believe the transformative power of compassion comes fully into play.  When we begin to really go out of ourselves, in whatever we do, it is this “WHY” we are doing what we are doing that makes the difference.  We can be the most avid missioners on this earth, the “best” parents or children that we can possibly be, the most generous philanthropist,  yet without love and compassion, as Paul tells us in his epistle, we are simply “banging a gong.”

This is not to say that appreciation is not important, but rather to give it its proper context.  Appreciation grows from a shared realization that we are all servants to each other and it is the Master of Compassion that calls out to us, commanding us to live with each other in this way.  Once this begins to happen, everything that we do becomes an expression of Being compassionate.  When we are centered by living in this source of compassion, what needs to get done gets done.  We do all that we must do, i.e., all those obligations, which truly are what we know we must do and do so un-begrudgingly because its coming from who we are as “loving servants” following the Master of Compassion.  We are the “unprofitable” servants as Jesus tells us, because the only “profit” is shared compassion in community.

So how do we begin to do this?  It’s baby steps I believe.  Many times it is brought on by deep suffering and loss in our lives, and also in a profound experience of being loved.  Sometimes it can just begin with “catching” ourselves in attitudes of trying to set ourselves up as “masters” over others.  It can be “catching” ourselves heading down the dark road of feeling “underappreciated” for what we do.  This “catching” though is interactive.  This is not about becoming a victim or “taking it on the lam,” but rather about speaking up and confronting others when we are in these situations.  One of the first roles of shared servanthood in compassion is the ability to listen to each other, and that means willingness to hear sometimes difficult expressions of how we are being perceived and perceive others along with the possibility that there is some truth in what we are ALL saying and hearing.

I know that in my own life, some of the most fruitful engagements with others have come about through painful experiences where there has been hurt, acknowledgement, and listening forgiveness!  It seems counterintuitive in our society to welcome brokenness and healing as the “right” way of engaging, but the Scriptures have a way of reminding us of this constantly.

There is only one Master – God, Who is Love, Who is Compassion.  May we do all that must be done in justice with merciful hearts to truly live as “servants” in love with each other!

Then we are in God, the Source of Service!

Peace

Thomas