Hooray for Me!
based on Luke 17:5-10
Rev. Karen Goltz

I remember back, before I went to seminary, I had a regular job. I was a contractor for the United States Air Force, specializing in financial management for various multi-national defense programs. And I was good at what I did. Very good. So good that I received letters of commendation from both the Air Force and the Navy for the first job I was asked to do. I was name-requested by NATO headquarters to head up future projects of a similar nature. I was recognized at every performance review as a superior employee, and, to be honest, I expected to be recognized, because I knew I was good.

If you think this all sounds like I’m bragging, you’re right. I am. I get conceited about this because my performance in that position is one of the greatest achievements of my life. When I was twenty-four years old I sat at a conference room table at NATO Headquarters in Brussels, and I told them why they needed to upgrade their radar net in the North Atlantic. And based on my recommendation, they did. Of course I’m proud of the work I did.

But the truth is, I wasn’t the first to sit at that conference room table, nor was I the last. When politics and personalities resulted in my suddenly losing that job, I experienced a very rude reality check. Without me on the job, the planes kept on flying. The United States Air Force did not collapse without me there to keep things in check. NATO continued to upgrade their radar net. The job continued with someone else in it because, after all, it was only a job.

I found that to be a pretty humbling experience. I’d convinced myself that I was the only one who could do that job, partly based on all the accolades I’d received. I’d convinced myself that I was the job, and that the Air Force needed me to be there.

But the more I thought about it afterwards, the more I realized: all that recognition I’d received was just for doing exactly what I was hired to do. I never went outside the parameters of my contract; I never went above and beyond the call of duty. I simply did what I was commanded to do, what I was supposed to do, what I was expected to do. All those accolades only served to inflate my own sense of centrality. It was no longer about the job that needed to be done; it was about me doing that job.

And I don’t believe I’m the only one who’s ever experienced that situation. How many times have you basked in thanks and appreciation for merely doing what you were supposed to do? Sure, you probably put a lot of effort into it and did a fantastic job. But aren’t all jobs worth putting our best effort into? What does it say about the quality we’ve come to expect as a society when simply meeting the specified requirements merits special recognition and celebration?

Unfortunately, that lack of expectation has expanded beyond our workplaces and society and into our very lives, including our lives of faith. We find a church we like, we learn a little about the faith, we volunteer if it’s something that interests us and it doesn’t get in the way of anything else, and we give out of our excess. We’re impressed when we hear about someone who makes a real sacrifice as an act of faith, someone who actually practices first-fruit giving, or who alters their lifestyle because something they were doing was out of line with what they professed to believe. We look at that person and we think, “Wow! They’re really committed!”

But really, that person is no more committed than they should be. They are only doing what’s expected of them. It’s those of us who are impressed who are not meeting God’s expectations.

It’s a hard, uncompromising, uncomfortable word of law, but there it is. In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus tells a story about a slave and his master. Understanding that slavery in ancient times was different from the brutal, exploitative experience of slavery in our own history, let’s use the word servant. Or better yet, employee. Jesus sarcastically imagines the guy in charge fawning over the employee, elevating his status to that of the guy in charge, simply for doing his job. In this parable, there’s still more work for the employee to do, but the guy in charge is so pleased with the work that’s already been done that he basically says he doesn’t have to do any more. Jesus’ audience would of course see this as ridiculous, and Jesus himself points out the foolishness of these actions. He goes on to describe the reality, that the guy in charge would rightfully tell his employee to finish his work. Jesus then convicts his audience by telling them, “So you, also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’” We have done only what is expected of us. This is a conviction because of what happened in the verses just before today’s reading. We tune in just in time to hear the apostles say, “Lord, increase our faith!” What we don’t see is that they ask this because Jesus just gave them a very difficult command. He told them that even if the same person sins against them seven times a day, and turns back after each time and says, “I repent,” even knowing the pattern, they still must forgive.

The apostles hear that probably as we do, that that’s too much to ask of anyone. So they ask Jesus to increase their faith to extraordinary levels so they can meet this extraordinary command, and Jesus stops them short. “Even with the tiniest amount of faith,” he basically tells them, “You are expected to be able to do this.” And then he tells them the parable.

Christianity isn’t an easy, feel-good religion. It’s a way of life. There’s no such thing as not being Christian enough, or only being a little bit Christian. That’s the same as saying you’re only a little bit pregnant. There is no such thing! You either are or you aren’t. You might not be showing yet, but as that pregnancy continues, it becomes more and more evident as time goes on, until finally it pushes its way into the world as an experience that will utterly alter your life and the lives of the people around you.

That’s the expectation. God promises us forgiveness, salvation, and eternal life, and he offers us that before we’ve done anything. It’s a free gift. It’s grace in its most ultimate form. And we are expected to respond to that grace by allowing it to transform our very lives. The Reverend Denny Brake once said, “If a Savior leaves you as you are and where you are, from what has he saved you?”

We as Christians, no matter where we are on our faith journey, are members of the body of Christ. As such we are interdependent with each other, and we are all stewards of God’s Word, individually and collectively. We are called to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ with our words and with our deeds, with our priorities and with our possessions. We might think this is an extraordinary command that goes above and beyond the call of duty, and we might want to receive accolades and recognition for our efforts, but that’s not what it’s all about. Jesus is the one who went above and beyond when he accepted the cross for us, and we already received our recognition when Christ chose to die for us.

Christ received our sins and our punishment. We received his grace. That’s God’s covenant with us. He’s upheld his end. What will we do with ours? Amen.