The question asked in this our 2nd of
8 question posed from the pews, is one that everyone struggles with to one
degree or another—especially those who have a have a role as a caregiver—either
officially or unofficial, in a paid capacity or an unpaid one.
Today’s question is this: “How do we balance our own happiness with
the happiness of others?”
Now I did talk with the person who put
this question in the box—to get a clearer idea of what was meant.
And this question’s author pointed out
something really insightful
—when
pastors preach, we frequently preach
about self-sacrifice, about serving our neighbor in need, even if, maybe even
especially when, that service is costly, when it’s hard and risky.
At the same time, when the preacher
acts pastorally, when we counsel or
listen to a parishioner’s problems, so frequently, we recommend self-care, we
switch from self-sacrifice to self-preservation.
And this wasn’t just me as Pastor, but
every pastor the questioner had interacted with.
So, what’s the balance? What’s the
faithful way to weight self and other?/
sacrifice and self-care?
The danger in this question
—is
a common danger
—it starts with an assumption of scarcity.
It’s as if there is only so much…
So
much goodness, happiness, joy
Only
so much to go around.
That
either my cup is full and other people’s cup is empty, or their cup is full and
my cup is empty.
It’s
as if happiness is a commodity, to be bought and sold with our time and effort
and even money.
Down
that line of reasoning lies a place where happiness is horded—saved in little
boxes to be savored alone…
But that’s not the nature of
happiness.
Happiness
isn’t water to fill a glass with, but an ocean to swim in, as our cup
overflows.
Happiness
isn’t an item to be bought or sold, but a gift that is shared.
Happiness
is like a Popsicle, if you try to horde it or hide it, it melts in your pocket
and is gone.
Yes, Happiness is an overflowing
thing—it grows when it is shared and shrinks when concealed and hidden away.
Yet the question remains, “how do we find balance in life, so that we
can be in relationship with other people in such a way that the joyful goodness
of life may be shared?”
I would suggest –the place to look is
at the Lawyer’s question in today’s Gospel: “What must I do to inherit eternal
life?”
The question that Jesus downgrades to
simply, “Do this and you will live.”
The equilibrium between our happiness
and that of others, is balanced upon not
missing chances to be merciful.
Self-sacrifice and self-care are
balanced upon opportunities to be
merciful.
Let us pray.
There was a woman going from Jerusalem
to Jericho, and she was robbed, stripped of all she had, beaten, and left half
dead.
Then along came a Priest, just by the
thick trudge of her footfalls you could tell she was heavy laden
—she
was embittered,
she
was burnt out.
--you might say in modern parlance,
she had caretakers fatigue.
--or going the other direction,
looking backward, you might say she was a Moses figure.
Now, on at least two separate
occasions in Hebrew Scripture this story of Moses giving up, and then learning
to delegate, is told… Perhaps it’s
important…
Well, this Priest, she didn’t take
that story to heart. There she was, the walking dead—like Moses saying, “Kill
me now.”
So bedeviled by duty that when she
looked at that dying woman, she thought, “Another obligation,” and kept right
on moving.
Perhaps she’d bought her own hype—that
she alone could bring home the bacon… well she’s a Jewish woman… so maybe she
brought home the goods… maybe she believed that she alone could serve fully and
serve well.
Perhaps she simply couldn’t say no and this moment was the
one chance she had, with no one looking over her shoulder, so he passed by.
So she grit her teeth and kept on
keeping on, doing the things she was obliged
to do, but not stooping down to do what she ought to do.
She
missed a chance to be merciful because she tried to do it all by herself.
Then along came a Levite. Her steps
were disordered, her movement erratic. She was watching a Youtube Video on her
Smartphone in one hand, while also combing her hair with the other, as she
slashed from one side of the street to the other.
In
fact, she was so distracted that she tripped over the dying woman.
It didn’t even phase her, she was
overscheduled as it was—like Martha she was busy with many things—every moment
scheduled… even her unscheduled moments were scheduled—no moment of serendipity
allowed.
Like so many of her day she wore her
busyness as a badge of honor.
But also, she kept busy, because when
she didn’t, when the multi-media extravaganza of modern life, the hypnosis of
hypersecheduling broken, when it all stopped blaring, when there were quiet
moments, she just didn’t know what to do, how to be a person unscheduled and
alone—free!
She
missed her chance to be merciful because she was distracted.
There was a Samaritan too, who
traveled on that long winding road from Jericho to Jerusalem.
She walked with a little skip in her
step—she had a secret inside her she was willing to share.
She
was loved—and she knew it.
She considered that famous phrase of
Torah that Samaritans share with the Jews, “Love your neighbor… as yourself.”
She recognized that life is a little
like an airplane ride—in case of emergency an oxygen mask may appear, in which
case you need to secure your own mask before helping others.
So, she didn’t overschedule
herself—she didn’t buy the prevailing culture’s assumption that busyness was
next to godliness.
She
gave herself time to be—little Sabbaths—so that she could be fully with other
people in their times of need.
She also recognized she wasn’t the
sole force of good in the world
—that
many hands make light work
—that
the alternative to delegating responsibility tends to be resentment.
She
even said “no” sometimes—and
didn’t feel bad about it either!
She knelt down and administered aid to
the woman. She did what she could for her, but knew there were people better
equipped than her to heal the woman’s every ill. She took her to an innkeeper
who knew about ointments and healing, and together they showed her mercy.
She
did not miss her opportunity to be merciful.
Upon that moment, self-sacrifice and
self-care, sit together.
A+A
