Are you guilty of entitlement Christianity?
Entitlement has become a bit of a buzz word in our society and body politic. From Social Security/Medicare/Medicaid and other federal safety nets to entrance into an elite college to being selected to be a player on an athletic team – many people feel entitled to a result they did earn or merit. Rather, because they were born in this state; because they grew up in this location; or this school district, they have a right to the good things in life. They expect to be handed benefits.
Funny thing, if you read the gospel, you discover entitlement is not a new concept. It has been around at least since the time of Jesus, and if we are honest, probably since Cain was bent out of shape because he thought he was entitled to have his offering accepted like Abel’s was. Jesus’ second story in the gospel is all about entitlement Christianity.
“Suppose you have a servant…” we hear. In modern parlance, we might say: “Suppose “X” is your job description: When you are done with the first part of your job – the daily labor, do you think that your boss will let you off the hook for the second part of the job description – preparing dinner and setting the table? No, it is just a part of what is expected of you. And to make sure his sometimes thick witted disciples get the message, he concludes his story: “When you have done everything you were told to do say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’”
Woof. Aren’t you being a little hard here Jesus? Not just on the disciples, but on us as well? After all, we worked hard all week at our jobs, raising our families. We’ve been laboring in the mission fields with hostile co-workers, petty classmates, and resistant peers. We’re still here after the abuse scandal. And now you tell us it is not enough?
And Jesus, in an uncharacteristically non “warm and fuzzy way”, speaks a truth about servant-hood/discipleship. It is not about entitlement. The church is not a place offering us service, but rather the place in which and from which we serve God and others. The Church is the fellowship in which we are servants to each other. Instead of asking “What’s in it for me?” the questions to ask on a regular basis are, “How can I help?” “Where can I serve?” and “Who among us has needs that, with God’s help, I can meet?”
Maybe another way to hear this passage is from the framework of something that parents know more instinctively than single people do. You don’t have the option to stop being a parent when your kid is sick in the middle of the night. (The best you can do, for a moment or two until catholic/bad parent guilt works on you is to pretend you are asleep and hope your spouse wakes up first. Of course of your child is calling Mommy not Daddy, or Daddy, not mommy, you are kind of stuck.) The thought in your head is not – “This is not my job until sunrise,” but rather – “My son/daughter is sick. How can I love them in the way they need to be loved right now?” How can I be the presence of love to them, because it is who I choose to be to and for them, not because it is my job?” Though we might be tired and perhaps grumpy at the interruption of our sleep – it is just what we do as parents. (Or what I do when the phone call comes in the middle of the night that someone is dying. I don’t pray: Please, let Fr. Johnson answers it. You pick it up the phone and you just go.)
That is the difference between servanthood and discipleship, between entitlement Christianity and faithful discipleship. We follow God’s command not because we expect to be rewarded for doing so, but because in doing so, we know we have the chance to love God in that moment. And that makes it all worthwhile.
Two thoughts on living this out. First, look out for the resentments that arise in the course of your day. Simply track them. Be aware of the moments of grumbling. Moments that shine the spotlight upon those moments of entitlement spirituality that creep into a day’s energy. And then, say that uncomfortable final line of today’s gospel as your prayer to God: I am an unprofitable servant; let me do what I am obliged to do.
Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem for an appointment with a cross. And his final words upon the cross are profound: “Into your hands I commend my spirit.” These are not the words and actions of one who thinks he is entitled. But there, broken and dying, he stayed true to his mission as he gave his life for us. So may it be said of you and me, that with simple faith, we follow our Lord by serving him and others. We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.