Do Even More

Saturday I decided to stop helping people. That’s it, I thought. I’ve had it! I’ve set myself up for dismissal for the last time.

Periodically I hear, in an online group, a plea for help on a subject dear to my heart. A few weeks ago, I responded to a pleader that I’d be happy to meet with her. She joyfully accepted, and we set up a meeting. Not an easy thing to do with everyone scheduled to the gills. I made sure my house was clean (at least the front part), bought a simple snack, took off work early, rushed home—and waited.

Ten minutes after the appointed time, I was watching the street for an unfamiliar vehicle and checking my phone for a text asking for more directions. A few minutes later, I was lamenting that no one seems to value the virtue of punctuality anymore. At half past the hour, I knew I’d been stood up. Again.

An hour later, I sent her a message: “Are we still on?” Dumb question, I know, but how else to ask a total stranger, “What the heck happened?” Much later, she answered with her very good excuse. She had gotten busy and completely forgotten. Besides, she thought our appointment was for Sunday. I looked back at our message history. Yep, I had deliberately specified the date and day of the week so as to avert that very confusion.

After much pondering, I sent her a thumbs-up. It’s possible she interpreted it as, “Ha ha, that’s okay; it could happen to anyone.” What it really meant was, “I’m at a loss for kind words. This is the absolute last straw.”

Of course the poor woman had no way of knowing how many times I’ve gone through a nearly identical scenario. But I didn’t care! I quit. And I felt completely justified, because my time had been wasted and my feelings were hurt. That’s what Jesus would have done, right? Three strikes and you’re out. Or was it seven? More? Anyway, the least I deserved was a day or two to pout about it.

Sunday morning, I was studying 1 Thessalonians, feelings still raw, pondering my true calling.

I had already noted some themes in this letter from the apostle Paul to the Christians at Thessalonica. He starts by telling them he never stops thanking God for them and remembering their, “work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thess. 1:3 ESV).

Maybe this is my private misinterpretation. When people say something they’ve done was a labor of love, what I hear is that the action couldn’t be classified as labor because it was something they love doing.

Labor, here, is from a Greek word, kopos. It originally referred to the beating of the chest and wailing of grief. In the New Testament, it means toil, wearisome effort. So Paul gives thanks for the Thessalonians’ work of faith, wearisome effort of love, and endurance of hope in the Lord. It doesn’t sound like they were walking the easy road, and they surely weren’t giving up.

Paul goes on to remind them that they became imitators (mimics) of him and the Lord when they received the Word in much affliction, with joy in the Holy Spirit, thereby becoming examples to other believers throughout the land. This affliction is a crushing or pressing. I translate this to myself as crushing distress. Paul uses the term four times in this short letter.

An even more uncomfortable recurring thought, though, is the “so much more” that Paul asks of these beloved brothers and sisters. The tone of the letter is one of exhortation and encouragement. He repeats that they already know and are doing the things he’s exhorting them to do, but he prays that the Lord will make them increase (cause to have more than enough) and abound (overflow) in love for one another and for all (1 Thess. 3:12).

Paul says they had learned from him the proper way to walk and to please God, and they are doing it. But what he’s asking them is to “do so more and more” (1 Thess. 4:1 ESV).

The Thessalonians don’t need anyone to tell them about brotherly love, because they are loving the brothers throughout Macedonia. However, Paul urges them to “do this more and more” (1 Thess. 4:10 ESV).

As Paul wraps up the letter, he exhorts his brothers to love their leaders over and above, more than enough. They should seek to do good to each other and to everyone. This seeking isn’t half-hearted looking around in case there’s something more they can do. It’s following hard after, pursuing good.

The Thessalonians were worthy of commendation because they had become mimics of Paul and those with him, and of Jesus.  We know of Jesus’ short, intense ministry and his sacrifice of supreme love. What had the Thessalonians seen Paul doing?

They knew he had been mistreated in Philippi before he came to them. While with them, he had toiled night and day with wearisome effort. He had been gentle among them, like a nursing mother nourishing her own children. He had also exhorted and encouraged and charged them as a father with his children.

What I heard Sunday morning was, “Put on your big girl armor, rejoice always, pray without ceasing, and give thanks in everything, because he who calls you is faithful.”

Lord God, you see our toil and rejections. Remind us that you know and understand. Strengthen us to stand, pursue the good, and do even more. Amen.

Scripture for Reflection

“Now may the Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father, who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word (2 Thess. 2:16-17 ESV).

“I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls” (2 Cor. 12:15, ESV).

Reach for More

Do you feel like you’ve done enough and just can’t do any more? Read and meditate on Jesus’ heart-to-heart talk with his disciples before his crucifixion in John 14-16. Take heart! He has overcome the world.

Through the gift of a faithful mother and grandmother, Diane Pendergraft grew up knowing Jesus as a friend. Married for nearly two-thirds of her life, there has been time for several seasons, from homeschooling to owning a coffee shop. She has three grown children and eight grandchildren. An element of this season is writing about literature and life at Plumfield and Paideia.

Photograph © Kiwihug, used with permission