Faith does not ‘keep score’
The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” He replied, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it will obey you.”
“Suppose one of you has a servant ploughing or looking after the sheep. Will he say to the servant when he comes in from the field, ‘Come along now and sit down to eat’? Won’t he rather say, ‘Prepare my supper, get yourself ready and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that you may eat and drink’? Will he thank the servant because he did what he was told to do? So you also, when you have done everything you were told to do, should say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’” Luke 17:5-10
To understand this teaching from Jesus, we need to listen to what happens just before today’s text. Jesus had just been teaching his disciples about forgiveness. He says if a brother or sister sins against you, rebuke them, and if they repent, forgive them. And then comes the kicker – even if they do it seven times in a single day, keep on forgiving them.
That’s when the apostles cry out: “Increase our faith!” Can you hear the intensity in their plea? “Lord, what you’re asking is impossible! Give us more faith to do it!” Jesus responds by confirming the power of faith. His statement about moving a mustard seed into the sea is perhaps said with a smile.
But is it the case also, that their request reveals a deeper misunderstanding about faith and good works? Perhaps they are thinking of their discipleship as a kind of ‘score keeping’ exercise?
This could explain the pointedness of Jesus parable, which is the second part of his answer. He tells them: “Will any of you say to your servant when he comes in from the field, ‘Come and sit down to eat’? Won’t you rather say, ‘Prepare my supper and serve me while I eat, and afterward you may eat’? Does he thank the servant because he did what he was commanded? When you have done everything you were told to do, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.’”
Here’s the problem with ‘keeping score’ that every disciple of Jesus will struggle with. Not just the apostles, but you and I will have this struggle also. We all need encouragement. At one level, that’s perfectly natural. We like a bit of praise – some recognition, a simple thank you for hard work. Fair enough. But Jesus knows the human heart. He knows our nature. He knows how easy it is for us to make it all about us.
Think about that little voice in your head: “Hey, I’ve been very generous in my forgiving lately – actually, I’ve been far more generous than so-and-so has been with me!” Right there – in that very moment – we’ve turned back to the scoreboard. We’re keeping score. Taking credit. Comparing ourselves.
Or maybe it sounds like this: “I’ve been serving faithfully on the welcome team for three years now, and no one’s even noticed.” Or: “I visited Margaret in hospital twice last month – did anyone thank me?” Or even: “I’ve been really patient with my spouse lately. I deserve some recognition for that.”
In our local congregational service – in all our good serving, on rosters, at morning tea, in visitation, serving on a leadership team, in all the faithful, loving things we do – how quickly that whisper can come. Our old self loves the scoreboard. We do our duty, then want the credit.
Deep down, each of us has an inner autopilot that steers us toward taking credit for the good we do. It’s that old sinful inclination to keep score somehow. We track our service in the church, family, or society, or our practices of spiritual discipline, or our perceived victory over some sin, to gauge our deservingness of God’s grace.
Jesus’ words about faith, and about the unworthy servants, tear down our self-made scoreboard entirely. They show us just how futile that enterprise is.
But this is hard for us to accept. We struggle with this old scorekeeping self, which surfaces again and again, seeking attention, stepping into the spotlight, and talking up its achievements. It’s the voice inside our head that says: “Hey, how about some recognition for the sacrifices I’m making here! Doing my duty is tough! I deserve credit!”
But then comes the good news twist in God’s story: the Master became the Servant.
In his parable, Jesus paints a picture of how we naturally think masters and servants work. Surely no master would ever say to his servant coming in from the field, “Come, sit down, let me serve you dinner.” That would be absurd. Upside down. Against the natural order.
But that’s exactly what God has done for you and for me.
Jesus didn’t say, “You’re my servants – get to work and earn my favour.” He said, in effect, “Let me serve you. Though you are unworthy servants, let me, the Master, be your slave.”
Think about that.
Would you agree that this just doesn’t make sense to our human way of keeping score? Nothing quite like it has ever happened in any other sphere of life. There’s no precedent for it. No logical order to it. And yet it is the one truth that changes everything.
We serve the Master because he first served us.
Jesus did the duty beyond all duty – for you. He entered our chaotic, sin-disordered, credit-grabbing, self-obsessed world. He took off his robe, wrapped a towel around his waist, and washed feet like a slave. He was struck, stripped, and beaten. He gave his life into death on a cross. He forgave us not seven times but seventy times seven. He took the punishment we deserved for all our scoreboard keeping, all our credit-grabbing, all our proud “what about me?” demands.
Here’s the gospel for you, for this issue, today: Jesus came to forgive you of all that self-congratulatory, credit-taking sinfulness. He took on himself the judgment that should have fallen on you for your proud, self-aggrandizing ways. In your place, Jesus received the punishment you deserved.
And then – unbelievably – he has given you his credit. His perfect score is now assigned to your result card!
The master who serves has made a place for us at his heavenly banquet of forgiveness – even though our faith might be smaller than a grain of mustard seed, his power to forgive is sufficient.
You’re baptized into his death and resurrection. You no longer require recognition based on your success at serving. Instead of coveting praise from others, you can rest on Jesus’ service for you – his taking of your sin and death. You can finally pack up the scoreboard and stop tallying wins and losses. Christ has done his duty perfectly, with humility, as the Father’s obedient Servant, and his humble service is now the object of your faith.
Because you are in Christ, his serving – regularly served to you in the Lord’s Supper – gives you strength to go about doing your Christian duty as God’s humble servant, loving God and loving your neighbour, with no thought of credit.
Each day is a wondrous gift of grace from God. Each day God is working wondrous things in our lives, and the last thing we want to do is forget that it is God who is the giver and start focusing on ourselves.
You’re free – free to serve in his name without a thought for taking credit.
So today, stop looking at the scoreboard! Fix your eyes on Jesus, and on his service for you, instead.
(See also Luke 12:35-38, where Jesus explicitly describes a master who serves his servants.)
So, our worth before God rests not in what we do for him, but in what he has done – and continues to do – for us. The one who calls us to say, “We are unworthy servants,” is the very one who, in love, made us worthy by dying for our sin.
Here’s what Jesus is saying to his apostles – and to you today. You do have faith! He is giving it to you! Even if it feels timid and weak and unsure, even that kind of faith, even such a little faith, is always receiving from God his energy and power for your life.
The issue isn’t the amount of your faith. It’s the object of your faith – where that faith is resting, or, more accurately, in whom that faith is resting.
Whether faith feels tiny or strong, it’s always a gift from God. God will give you the faith you need to let go and accomplish whatever it is he’s calling you to do.
So, serve the person in front of you today – at home, at work, at church – with no thought of thanks. Forget about trying to pump up your trust level or measure your own good deeds in some way. You’re free from all that scorekeeping and comparison making!
Jesus’ grace is more than sufficient to deliver you from all that!
When that voice whispers, “What about me? Where’s my credit? Nobody even noticed what I did”, remember the Master who became the Servant. Remember that he’s already served you the feast.
Remember that, and confess joyfully: ”We are unworthy servants; we have only done our duty.” You’ll be acknowledging the wonderful truth: you are the recipient of God’s incredible generosity – and that isn’t going to change!
Amen.
