By Steven Norris
A Pastor once told a story about growing up in a small town. When he was a boy, his mother gave him an assignment: “Go down to the florist and pick up some flowers for the dinner table.” The young boy did what he was told, but he felt quite embarrassed about carrying that bouquet of flowers through the middle of town where everyone could see him. He worried that some of his friends from school were going to see him and make fun of him for having the flowers. However, he was obedient and did what he was supposed to do.
Ten years passed and the boy became a young man. This young man was now in love with a beautiful young woman. He diligently saved the little bit of money he made from his paper route and took it to the very same florist shop. Proudly, he laid the money on the counter to pay for the bouquet of flowers he intended to give to his sweetheart. When he walked through town, he held his head high and walked with confidence.
He said, “I wasn’t too worried about what anyone would think of me carrying a bouquet of flowers through the middle of town. My mind was focused on two things: (1) how happy she would be to receive those flowers, and (2) how fortunate I was to be the one to bring them to her.”
Motivation has always been a point of interest for me. Why do we do the things we do? How do those motivations affect the attitude we bring to the task or the feelings associated with it?
Jesus seemed to be very interested in motivations. Throughout the Gospels, he challenges his followers to consider not only what they do, but also why they do it. I would encourage you to read through the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7) this week. Take special note of the way Jesus addresses the motivations of his listeners, focusing less attention on whatthey do than why they do it.
It saddens me to hear people talk about following Jesus as a kind of obligation or duty. Certainly, to call Jesus “Lord” implies that he has a claim on the lives of women and men who confess faith in Christ. However, the Christian life is not an exercise in obligation but an invitation to loving devotion.
As I come to love Christ more and more, it is not difficult to be generous with the resources I have because they become an opportunity to express my affection and gratitude to the one who loves me. As I look for the face of Christ in everyone that I meet, distractions become opportunities to gaze into the face of Christ. Choosing humility in a culture overflowing with pride, meekness in a culture obsessed with power, or generosity in a culture of greed make so much more sense when I focus on the why of my actions.
As we walk the Way of Christ together this Easter season, may our duty be transformed to delight.