In 1988 I attended the annual Trinity Institute
conference in New York City to hear then Archbishop of Canterbury Robert
Runcie. In his sermon at the opening Eucharist in Trinity Church, Dr. Runcie, a
recent, distinguished guest in this parish, referred to Mother Teresa as a
model of Christian servanthood. In connection with a staff project at Berkeley
Divinity School, I had an opportunity for a brief conversation with His
Grace.
"Sir, in last night's sermon you mentioned only
Mother Teresa as an example of Christian servanthood." Then, with a slight
smile to lighten what I was about to say, I blurted, "I find it difficult to
relate to her as a model of servanthood; she has taken vows of chastity,
poverty, and obedience, and she works exclusively among the poor!" His eyes
widened a bit, and I wondered how to rephrase my thoughts. I continued,
"Perhaps Mother Teresa is a Saint and a wonderful servant, but don't we have
any affluent Christian servants, women and men who have acquired financial
success?" Wanting to delay his response, I went on, "We never hear from pulpits
any encouragement to express servanthood through honest labor leading to
quality service and a good living. I have the impression that achievers who do
well financially are scolded by most clergy. It's assumed that if individuals
have a measure of prosperity, they must be selfish, exploitive, greedy, and
ought to feel quite guilty. Must one take a vow of poverty and work exclusively
among the poor to be a Christian servant?"
I awaited a reprimand for being arrogant,
elitist, insensitive, typically American, unchristian, uncharitable,
sociologically naive, and worst of all, impertinent to the Archbishop of
Canterbury! Archbishop Runcie thought for a moment and said gently, "You know,
you're right! When I need to raise funds to repair a cathedral or for some
other capital expenses, I have to ask financially able church members for their
help." Now feeling more at ease, I asked, "Why then is it that we never hear of
those faithful well-to-do church people as additional models of servanthood?"
Another thoughtful pause, and he continued, "I see your point, but do you
understand the implications of servanthood in the sermon?" I readily affirmed
his primary message, and we parted.
It might sound as if I'm at variance with the
spirit of today's Epistle, which includes these words, "Religion that is pure
and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows
in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world." To be sure,
Christian servanthood does include care for people victimized by circumstances
beyond their control - in Jesus' day, for example, virtually all widows and
orphans. Throughout Christian history, a few men and women have chosen a vow of
poverty and service among truly victimized people in many circumstances;
without doubt such a ministry is a sacred calling.
Nonetheless, in our rightful concern for
genuinely victimized human beings, many Christian spokespersons have assumed
that all people of means have somehow created all society's victims and are
indifferent to them! This false, simplistic vision of the 1960s and 70s
continues to alienate some of the very Christian people who are basically good
stewards of their resources, affluent people able and willing to assist real
victims with enabling care. Regrettably, a general hostility or resentment
toward affluent achievers from many preachers has resulted in a diminished
credibility among honest, prosperous, compassionate, hardworking laypeople.
If you and I are truly listening to Christ, if
our ears are really open, being "unstained from the world" does involve
outright condemnation and rejection of traits other than financial well-being.
Let me list a few real blotches affecting our occupational lives: exploitive
control of human beings and the environment; cutthroat competition; deception
and back-stabbing; profit and income regardless of the quality of the service
or product; avoidance of responsibility and accountability; self-sufficiency
and independence; workaholism; and, a willing acceptance of wrongdoing, harm,
and injustice.
All of us - clergy, other professionals, people
in business, factories, and service occupations - all are challenged to remain
"unstained from the world" - in both our personal or vocational lives. Too
often we yield to seductions and accept shortcomings and corruption as
intrinsic to all work. We gradually concede to internalized defilements.
However, I do not regard a vow of poverty and work among victimized people as
the only, superior Christian alternative.
I am convinced that all of our labors need
constant nurturing toward genuine servanthood, so that, as much as possible,
our work becomes ministry. A commitment to some general principles shared by
Christians and many others could guide our vocational settings toward being a
genuine expression of servanthood, of Christian ministry. Just imagine what
careers would be like if employers and employees adopted a few guiding
principles, such as: respect for persons and stewardship of the Creator's
environment; honorable competition; honesty; profit and income linked to
quality service and products; promotion of individual and collective
responsibility and accountability; appropriate collaboration; personal life
balanced with the demands of work; consciously doing good, preventing harm, and
promoting justice.
Such a principled context for vocational
relations would transfigure the currently embattled workplace and, prudently
implemented, need not lead to financial defeat. Whether a Mother Teresa or a
laborer in any other field, we would become servants exercising ministry. Of
course, hearts and minds would need to be converted, eyes and ears opened, many
of our workplace values confronted and transformed, before such a metamorphosis
could take place. I do not underestimate such a monumental global and national
task.
Mother Teresa should not be our surrogate "good
laborer" - while others complacently work from day to day and willfully fail to
perceive the shortcomings and downright evils in our vocational practices. We
need to identify and emulate additional Christian models of everyday work,
including women and men who slowly, deliberately, and gracefully strive toward
a personal and vocational life "unstained from the world." We need to learn
from and pattern ourselves after genuinely religious "doers of the word" who
slowly and steadily baptize their labors as sacred, high callings, laborers
also attentive to their victimized neighbors. Such Christian workers do exist!
Indeed, you and I should honor affluent servants who have not become "servants
of affluence," but who are among those deserving our Lord's commendation,
"Servants, well done."