What Does It Mean To Serve?

I now understand my call to priesthood and fatherhood as that of a sacrificial servant of and for Christ. How do I live this call faithfully? In a moderate, balanced way rather than either of the extremes I grew up with.

As a kid, I was blessed to grow up with a dad who believed in a rougher, tougher version of serving fatherhood: teaching us how to do for ourselves. This sometimes meant leaving us in difficult situations we would have liked help out of, and some people would have helped their kids out of. He believed it was for our best, and though his tactics were sometimes harsh, I see in my immediate family both the good and bad that came from his method.

I was also blessed to grow up with a mother who believed in the much gentler, protective version of serving in motherhood. The intentions were good, as they were with my dad, but, as with him, she went to extremes. Not wanting to see me suffer at all, she protected me in ways that shielded me from consequences I should have faced. I felt very loved by her, but unfortunately learned to associate being kept from suffering with love and being allowed to suffer with being unloving. Neither is true. As with almost everything, there is an irritating middle ground.

I say irritating because extremes are easy. Or I should say they seem easier. To be harsh all the time, with no nonsense, no flexibility, and no mercy, makes everything clear. Black and white. But it also hardens hearts and pushes many people toward worse behaviors than the ones they are being corrected for. To never correct or punish. To always take away the struggle and consequences. This robs the protected person of personal responsibility and the suffering that different choices bring. So, a balanced approach is best, but where does that balance lie?

When I was calling phone sex numbers as a teen and racking up huge phone bills, I should have been made to work to pay those bills and maybe not have been allowed to use the phone. Instead, my loving Mom covered for me, teaching me a terrible lesson rather than the one she intended. When I was being picked on in our home, I should have been defended. Instead, my loving father left me to fend for myself, teaching me a terrible lesson rather than the one he intended. These experiences shape how I see my role as a servant and help me know when to step in and when to let consequences stand.

Slavery is harsh. You clean up, and your master tracks dirt right in over the area you just cleaned. A slave would clean it again without complaint or correction. A servant would clean up but would correct the person with the dirty shoes to take them off outside next time, and if they don’t, tell them they are going to have to clean up themselves. This is what I struggle with: when do I help, and when do I step back? What is actually helping, and what is enabling? Where are the lines? How do I know when I am helping too much or not helping enough? I would assume I pay attention to the fruit that my efforts bear. So for now, I straddle the line between mom and dad. Between harsh and gentle. Between protective and you’re on your own. God help me and all those close to me.

Human-Written, AI Spell-Checked 5/24/21 AD

Image from WIX AI Image Generator