Oscar

My good friend Bart grew up in a different time.  His mother had died when he was young, and his father, the county judge, was left to raise two children on his own.  Bart’s dad hired two people to help him with being a single parent, Oscar and Mary.  Oscar drove and did yard work.  Mary cooked and cleaned.  Together they looked after Bart and his sister.  Oscar and Mary lived in an apartment in the basement of Bart’s family’s home.  Bart grew up being cared for on a daily basis primarily by Oscar and Mary.  He loved them like parents, and they loved Bart and his sister as their own.  Both of those things were true even though Bart never referred to Oscar and Mary as anything other than Oscar and Mary but Oscar and Mary called Bart, “Mr. Bart,” the difference in age notwithstanding.  That was the custom in those days where Bart and I grew up.  Domestic servants, who were always of another race, were called by their first names, but the familiarity was not reciprocal.  Domestic servants always appended “Mr.” or “Miss” to their employers’ first names, and those of their children, too. 

Many years later, when Bart was grown up and Oscar and Mary had long since moved into a home of their own, Mary died.  Bart was heartbroken as if his own mother had died again.  He went to Oscar and Mary’s house to pay his respects, which were considerable. 

The house was filled with visitors.  Bart sat down in the living room with Oscar.  “Oscar,” he said, no matter what happened in my life, I always knew that you and Mary loved me.”

That’s when Oscar said something terribly profound and shockingly truthful.  “Mr. Bart,” Oscar responded, “I got paid to love you.”

Jesus talks frequently about being a servant.  In fact, servanthood and love are perhaps the New Testament’s very highest value.  This week’s Gospel (Mk. 10:35-45) is a case in point. 

So Jesus called them and said to them, You know that     among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them.  But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.  For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.  (vv. 42-45)

Being a disciple of Jesus is about being a servant.  Servanthood, though, is a different thing depending on whether one looks at it from the perspective of the one serving or the one being served.  Servanthood looked different from Bart’s perspective than it did from Oscar’s.

Now here’s the curious thing.  Bart perceived nothing but love.  I have no doubt that Oscar loved Bart.  Still, Oscar’s love was not unqualified either.  Oscar got paid to love Bart.  Oscar loved Bart but recognized that things were a bit more complicated than that.

I don’t know quite what to make of this, but I think it is very much worth paying attention to.  For one thing, servanthood is not quite the simple thing we sometimes imagine it to be, at least from the servant’s point of view.  Most of us have a hard time imagining servanthood through the servant’s eyes.  I’m not sure Jesus would have.

For another thing, the things we do for love and the things we do for pay are not necessarily inconsistent.  In fact, justice sometimes requires just that.

But mostly it seems to me that the importance is where one stands to look at servanthood, the question of perspective, the perspective of the servant or the perspective of the one being served.  The servant has a fuller view of the reality, that things are not quite as simple as they may appear.  The servant has a view closer to what the truth, the complicated truth, actually is.  Could it be that that is what Jesus is hoping for, a fuller view of the truth, at least as much as the serving itself?

Peace,

+Stacy