Search this blog

Pages

Sunday, June 24, 2018

Toiling in vain --just like John the Baptist?


“Though I thought I had toiled in vain
and for nothing, senselessly, spent
my strength, yet my reward is with
the Lord, my recompense with my God.”
--Isaiah 49: 4
 
Listen to this message.  One of our greatest voices, one of the most important prophetic figures in scripture; and he feared his work, his life, had been in vain.  Is this not the proper response to anyone who feels their life has gone unnoticed?  Most of us, I imagine, looking back on our lives see missed opportunities, unfulfilled promise; years of unrecognized effort, uncelebrated worth.  Who hasn’t felt the fear and the pain and the neglect envisioned in the first half of this verse? We had promise, we had opportunities, and amounted to nothing.  We toiled in vain, spent our strength uselessly and our lives have gone without note or success; our dreams and our promise unrealized.  Or we feel unseen; no one seems to care (or notice) that we exist.

Today we celebrate the nativity of John the Baptist, a man who on most any earthly scale would be deemed a failure; someone who “toiled in vain.” He goes out to the wilderness and lives like a homeless man, becomes something of a public spectacle with his ranting against sin, then goes too far and is arrested and put to death due to a party game gone awry.  And if it wasn’t for this other guy (his cousin) whose earthly ministry also ends kind of badly, we probably wouldn’t even remember John.  He would have faded into history; just another forgotten misfit with dreams and promise who lived and died without notice by the Caesars of the world. At best, an annoying mosquito to be swatted away and forgotten.

I know people who never seem to receive their moment of glory.  I’ve worked in universities and schools almost all of my adult life and witnessed time and again how some people repeatedly are singled out for praise (often very deserved) while others (also very deserving) year after year go unnoticed. I’m thinking of a particularly dedicated teacher I know who shows up every day, works long hours, loves and nurtures her students, yet when it comes time to single out people for hard work or extra praise, she is never mentioned; never singled out; apparently never noticed, while the same English teachers or Science teachers or Math teachers are honored and praised time and again.  Is it because the one teacher constantly goes beyond, exceeds expectations and the other simply doesn’t have that extra skill or talent or charm?  Possibly.  But that doesn’t change the fact that a capable and dedicated teacher might feel exactly as Isaiah does in this passage.  That she/he has toiled in vain, uselessly spent her life’s energy doing work that goes unnoticed and unappreciated.  Yet, what Isaiah is also saying is: Don’t look to earthly honors and awards as the measure of your real worth. 

Today, as we remember the nativity of John the Baptist, we are called to remember that our reward, our true worth isn’t found in the praise of Caesar or by the number of “likes” we get or the number of times we are singled out for praise, but in the Lord; our recompense is with God; our true worth is measured not in man’s eyes, but in God’s glory.  We are His servant, and we must remember we are working for His glory. Not our own.

A couple of weeks back we had the Gospel in which Jesus said that a house divided against itself cannot stand (Mk 3:25).  I hear reverberations of that great truth here as well. Perhaps that is why this reading from Isaiah spoke to me so profoundly.  What I hear in Isaiah is a message about division of the heart.  I hear an echo of a division that rears its ugly head inside me most every day.  When I am writing a poem or working on my novel –if I am in the zone, so to speak-- I write single mindedly. The words, the story, the image, the work itself is all I care about. But, when I am distracted, or things aren’t coming easily I will begin to doubt myself and question myself –I will second guess.  And often when I hear of some young author who just published a first book to great acclaim, I will grow a little sour with envy as I recall my drawer full of rejection slips.  I begin to doubt my worth, to suspect my efforts have been in vain, my strength senselessly spent, because instead of doing my work the best I can, for the glory of God, I’m doing it for myself; for my glory, my rewards, my recompense, and in my selfishness, I am becoming a house divided against itself.  I’m seeking not what is my true reward but something like a shadow of it. In fact, by seeking an earthly reward I am serving Caesar; but as the prophet tells us, we were made for God and our true glory comes from serving Him. 

If fact, whether we are called on stage to be honored or we toil in humble anonymity isn’t really our concern.  We are not servants of the Academy or of the Nobel Prize Committee or even of the NY Times (or the Whitehouse), we are servants of God. Our work is done not to bring us glory, but God.  There are teachers I know who become legends (at least for a time) and others who retire and are quickly forgotten, but the key to being a successful servant of God isn’t found in earthly acclaim.  In fact, the important work we do for God may be found as much in our anonymity as in our efforts. As Mother Teresa said, “We are not called to be successful, we are called to be faithful.” Or as John the Baptist said:
“What do you suppose that I am? I am not he.
No, but behold, after me one is coming, the sandals
of whose feet I am not worthy to untie.” (Acts 13:25)

The work we do isn’t about us; it’s about Him.  And the reward, the recompense, isn’t found in certificates or trophies or acclaim, it’s found in being a faithful servant.  Don't be divided; be true, faithful, united in purpose with the One who created you. Grow where you are planted, bear fruit where and when you can, and leave the rest to God.  Do your best, not for praise or honor or glory (or a raise) but because you are serving God. We must remember that any work done for God’s glory is never in vain. 

Plus, if you want to contemplate the value of earthly success, consider when was the last time you heard anyone talk about the movie: Cavalcade (1933).  Academy award for best picture and a money maker for Fox Studios.  But… 

No comments:

Post a Comment