Let us focus
on the third paragraph from our Gospel reading today, in which Jesus 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.’ ”
In our house
we have a little saying, “The Lawn Looks Nice”.
It’s one of those family inside jokes I guess. I suppose one too many times someone who mows
the lawn went fishing for a compliment or something. And now it’s become a catch-all response when
someone goes looking for a pat on the back.
Any sort of, “Hey, didn’t I do a good job at that?”, really. Cleaned the kitchen? The lawn looks nice. Did your homework? The lawn looks nice. Mowed the lawn again this week? Well.
How about that.
I suppose
most of us like to be appreciated. We
want our good works not to go unnoticed, but secretly – or maybe not so
secretly – we want everyone to see them, and with the more fanfare the
better. And it’s best if you notice my
good works and appreciate them all by yourself, because if I have to tell you
to notice them…. Well, then do you
really appreciate them?
You know
this perhaps best when you experience the opposite. When you do something nice for someone and
they don’t seem to appreciate it at all!
When there’s no regard for your hard work and consideration. When
there’s no thank you! How dare they!?
And maybe
there’s even a part of us that somehow expects the same from God. In fact our relationship with God is closely
connected to our relationship with our neighbor. How we consider one affects the other, shows
something about the other.
That fact
that we look for such recognition and appreciation for our good works is a sign
to us that they really aren’t that good after all. Good works are simply the starting point. They are what is expected of us. This is what Jesus gets at with this
illustration or parable.
It was a
servant’s job to serve his master – not just in during the day, out in the
field, but also when dinner time comes.
The servant would have been called upon to bring his master’s meal first
– and only then to go eat his own dinner.
And when the
servant does what he is commanded, it is enough that he did his job. He’s not looking for extra kudos and
accolades. He doesn’t expect the master
to invite him to feast alongside the master.
He’s fine to go back to the servant’s quarters and eat with the other
servants.
And at the
end of the day, the faithful servants say, “we are unworthy servants. We have only done our duty.”
Well, that’s
as it should be. And maybe that’s how it
is in the world of fiction. If you watch
a period drama like Downtown Abbey, where the servants take great pride in
their work, and know their place, and above all want to see the masters receive
good service! That’s the ideal. But of course we don’t live in a fiction
novel, or a fantasy world. We live in
the real world, the fallen one.
And we,
ourselves, are not that kind of servant.
Not by nature, anyway. We are
unfaithful and selfish and irresponsible servants who are often more concerned
about how we look to others than if we have done our duty.
We bristle
under the commandments – which teach us how to serve rightly. We would rather explain our failings away and
rationalize why this or that commandment doesn’t really apply – than to admit
our failures.
Or else we
would rather see our shabby good works as shining examples of duty, and be
commended for them – rather than face the reality that our best works are like
filthy rags, and that even our most selfless and righteous good deeds still
bear the stink of sin.
Like the
rich young man who tried to claim before Jesus, “All these (commandments) I
have kept from my youth!” You’re not
fooling Jesus, there, buddy.
We are far
better at critiquing our neighbors’ duties and failure of duty than our
own. And we are far kinder on ourselves,
excusing away what we would condemn in others.
Gossip! Jealousy! Short-tempers! Pride!
Callousness! Pick your sin. We don’t do as we should, and we do as we
should not. Some servants we are. What will the master do with us?
And even if
we could keep the law perfectly, we wouldn’t sit around waiting for a big
“thank you” from our Master. We are his
created beings. We are made for him –
not for ourselves. We have a duty to
him, not a privilege of our own self-determination and self-fulfillment. But even this though might bring out the
worst in your sinful nature, which despises the master because you want to be
the real master.
No, we are
unworthy servants. And we don’t even do
what we should. We are unworthy because
of our sins and because even our best good works are unworthy of the greatness
of the master.
But there is
one worthy servant. There is one who
fulfilled his duty well. There is one
who did all things he was asked to do to perfection, and never expected thanks
for it.
He who was
in the very nature God, took on the form of a servant and was made flesh. He labored in the field of this world the
long day of his life. He did all things
he was called to do, and he did all things well.
He served no
other gods, but always did the will of his Father. He hallowed his Father’s name by always
walking in truth, teaching the truth, leading people into truth. He gave Sabbath rest, true rest, even on the
Sabbath when man-made laws would have stopped him. But the Sabbath is made for man, and the Lord
of the Sabbath was made man for all people.
This worthy
servant loved God, but he also loved man, his neighbors. He was an obedient son to his parents,
submissive and respectful, keeping the 4th Commandment – even though
he was the Word by which they and all the world were created. He never killed, never harmed his neighbor
unjustly, and never hated in his heart.
He was always faithful to his bride, the church. He never stole, never lied, never slandered a
good name. And he never coveted what
belonged to another, though everything that ever was and is belongs to
him. He came not to abolish the law, but
to fulfill it – and in great service to us, he dutifully crossed every T and
dotted every I. Yes, service to us –
because his perfect righteousness is credited to us. His obedience is counted as ours. When we stand before the master and judge on
the last day, he will see all of Christ’s good works – and consider them ours.
But there’s
more. After laboring all the day of his
life to fulfill the law on our behalf, the worthy servant became the suffering
servant. He filled our cup of
righteousness by his righteousness, and then he drained the cup of God’s wrath
by his sacrificial death. In both cases
he served in our place – both in doing the good we cannot, and in bearing the
punishment for our evil thoughts, words and deeds. This dutiful servant did not turn away from
the task appointed to him, but prayed, “not my will, but thy will be done,
Father.” He didn’t speak in his own
defense. He didn’t call his servants –
men or angels – to fight for him. He
didn’t even hold a righteous grudge against those who swung the hammer, but
prayed, “Father, forgive them…”
Martin
Luther’s great hymn, “Dear Christians, One and All, Rejoice” has a wonderful
little section about the dutiful Son obeying the Father’s will:
God said to his beloved Son:
“It’s time to have compassion.
Then go, bright jewel of My crown,
And bring to all salvation.
From sin and sorrow set them free;
Slay bitter death for them that they
May live with You forever.”
And then,
The Son obeyed His Father’s will,
Was born of virgin mother;
And God’s good pleasure to fulfill,
He came to be my brother.
His royal pow’r disguised He bore;
A servant’s form, like mine, He wore
To lead the devil captive.
And this worthy servant, he serves even further. He doesn’t stop at the active obedience of fulfilling the law. He doesn’t stop at the passive obedience of laying down his life for our sins. He reclaims that life from death, and promises us a resurrection like his own. And he gives us a truly blessed pledge of that new life in the form of sacraments – a washing and a meal.
Yes, that servant in his parable came in from the field after a hard day’s labor, and he served even more. He prepared his master a meal. But wonder of wonders, our master becomes the servant. And he prepares for us a meal. Just as he has done all things well for our salvation – so now he continues to serve us and bless us with gifts fit for a king. He serves at table. He spreads a feast. He feeds us with bread that is his own body, and wine that is his own blood. He serves us himself, and brings us forgiveness of sins. He makes us who are unworthy servants in our sins, worthy by faith in him, worthy even of life eternal.
At the end of the day, we Christians need not count our good
works and expect to be recognized for them – for we already have more than we
could imagine. We are unworthy servants,
but made perfect by the worthy servant, Jesus Christ our Lord. And so we do our duty as Christians with joy
– loving God, and serving our neighbor.
May it be so, for Jesus’ sake.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment