Who Are We Trying to Please?

When I first began working at the Community College, I found myself very busy.  There were so many things I wanted to achieve, and I found myself on a lot of committees, buried under a lot of tasks.  I remember one day sitting in my office, trying to figure out which demand on my time I would have to address first that day, when a sweet and gentle interior voice spoke to me:  Who are you trying to please?

As soft and sweet as that voice was, it made a great impact on my life.  It made me pause.  It made me think.  Looking back on that moment now, I think maybe those words actually changed the direction in which I was running so hard.  And reflecting back on that experience now, after a lot of years and a lot of experience, I think maybe, without saying it directly at the time, those words can be summed up in I Cor. 13:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.  If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.  If I give all I possess to the poor, and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

 

At the beginning of my wonderful (to me, if not to others) career at the college, I of course wanted to do 'great things.'  And there was so much to be done -- and such wonderful people to do it with.  It was easy to be swept along by the momentum, by the joy, of doing wonderful things.  But the question asked of me that day was not, "What wonderful things can you accomplish?" but rather, "Who are you trying to please?" 

 

That question changed me, I think.  I realized at that moment what John the Baptist said:

 

A man can receive only what is given him from heaven.  You yourselves can testify that I said, "I am not the Christ but am sent ahead of him.  The bride belongs to the bridegroom.  The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom's voice.  That joy is mine, and it is now complete.  He must become greater; I must become less (Jn.3:27-30).

 

Each one of us can do only what has been assigned to us to do; we cannot do what has been assigned to someone else.  Let me give an example:  When I first moved into my home after the ravages of Katrina, I had to begin getting rid of the rampant weeds that had overtaken the once-beautiful landscaping in my yard.  I really did not know what I was doing; I could do only the simple things I knew to do -- dig up the weeds and put something in their place to keep them from returning and taking over once again.  And, as I have written before, it seemed that every time I cleared a space, my beautiful neighbor from across the street would arrive bearing gifts from her yard:  african iris, indian hawthorne, and once, even a queen palm.  What largess, what bounty, fell into my hands!  I was jumping for joy at the task!  Each bed was restored with a great deal of love and labor, and I thought it was absolutely beautiful.

 

Then a year or so ago, a landscaper rebuilt her home in the next block, and in very short order -- a few months at the most -- she had the most gorgeous yard, one I love to gaze at whenever I take my afternoon walk.  She uses large, showy, plants that make my own beds look paltry.  I started to think about all the work I had done, but my beds don't look like hers -- obviously, she knows something I don't know!  And then, I thought again: "Who are you trying to please?"

 

When I was weeding and planting, I did not think about making my garden look like Better Homes and Gardens -- though maybe I should have been. And if I had had more knowledge and experience at the task, I am sure I could have made my yard a showcase.  But at the time, I just wanted to salvage the poor yard that had been so devastated by the storm.  I wanted it to be weed-free and a place I could enjoy strolling through.  I was willing to devote long hours to the task, and I did not really think much about what others would see from the street when they looked at my yard.  In other words, I was not thinking like a landscaper would think.  In fact, now that I think back on it, I realize how often the landscaper passed by, walking her dogs, and I wonder if she wanted to scream at me:  You're doing it all wrong!  (based on her knowledge and experience.)  But she always smiled and waved and let me work my own way. 

 

So here's my lesson for the day:  I think all we can do is to carry out what we have been given with love.  It may not look like much to anyone else, but the important thing is to remain faithful to that which we have been given to do.  Yesterday, someone said to me, "When God gives us a task, he also gives us all the tools and resources we need to complete the task."  I just love that, and I believe it!  We cannot be looking to see who is pleased with our task; we must only go back to our Divine Source to see if we are doing whatever it is He asked us to do.  And we cannot compare our task to  what He has given to others to do.  Peter asked Jesus, "What about him [John]?"  And Jesus replied, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me" (Jn.21:22).

 

Only the Lord knows our own strength and what we can carry, and he will not ask more than what we can bear -- but we must rely on Him to provide the strength for the task He gives us.  Otherwise, our discouragement and weakness will cause bitter disappointment at the results.  But as St. Polycarp, the bishop of Smyna, showed his people who were being martyred with him, Jesus is sufficient for every task, even to the very end.  If we rely on His strength, and not worry too much about the results of our tasks, He will carry us and complete the very thing He has asked us to do.