Why Do We Serve?

Service is offering someone who is need of what it is you have to give.

When I was in high school I was a part of the National Honors Society. To this day I have no idea what that did for me. I know during each summer in high school in order to keep my society status I had to complete ten hours of community service. I would pick up trash around the ball fields, mow for the city – since my best friend’s dad was the mayor – and referee girl’s little league basketball games at their summer camps. Each summer I performed these duties just to keep some arbitrary yet signifying status. And honestly, I hated it. I only did these things to keep my rankings in the National Honor’s Society.

If Christians today aren’t careful we too will fall into a similar pattern I fell into in high school. Doing service projects to keep face, to maintain a reputable status, or to hopefully keep some salvific option open for later in life is at best misguided and truthfully pathetic.

Service . . . mission work . . . helping a neighbor in need . . . should never be done out of a mindset that seeks some eternal reward.

Service is not about pride, entitlement or honor . . . it’s about offering something to someone who is need of what you have to give. And in the process Jesus is introduced to the situation.

This is my biggest worry about my generations’ Christians. Pride and entitlement stand in the way of us actually doing physical acts of service, and for some they are the reason for the service itself.

We have to be a people who move away from pride and entitlement and, instead, move toward being a people who serve because our hearts ache for a world that is suffering.

In the gospel of John we find Peter struggling with this same narcissism. He’s struggling to understand why Jesus would bother him so terribly on what seems to be an easy question to answer. Three times Jesus asks his best friend, “Do you love me.” Three times Peter responds with, “You know I do.” The passage reads almost as if Peter is getting progressively frustrated that so much time and attention is devoted to such a simple answer.

“You know I love you Jesus. You know I support you.”

And Jesus’ response is so vital for us to hear, “If you love me Peter . . . then feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.”

It’s as if Jesus hears Peter saying, “You know I love you Lord. Too many people know I follow you so I must love you. I have to keep face. It would look terrible if I turned on you now. What would people say? And I guess I do get a lot out of following you.”

Jesus combats this narcissism with a sharp call to service, “If you love me like you say you do, then I’m challenging you to carry my love, my words, my care, my attention to all that you meet. Feed my lambs Peter. Quit worrying about how this affects you and start focusing on the people that need me. I’m glad you’ve gotten something out of our relationship. I’d be worried if you didn’t. But now I’m calling you out. Your salvation is not in question Peter. You don’t have to suck up to me. I want you out there offering my love to all that you meet. I’m challenging you to give what you’ve received to others. Share my love. Share my joy. Share my stories and give out my redemption. Serve Peter. Don’t be like the Pharisees and pretend to be pious. Don’t be like the temple guards and use me for clout. There’s a world out there that is hurting. It’s your turn to show them my love. I offer you this gift. Use it and serve.

I think this speaks to all of us.

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