How to Love Your Duties: Add a Pinch of Salt

But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned? (Mt. 5:13)

If I could have just one seasoning in my kitchen cupboard, it would definitely be salt. Salt does not change the flavor of foods the way other spices and seasonings do; it simply brings out their best.

Years ago, my husband and I experimented with making homemade pizza. Born and raised in New York City, I was pretty picky about how I thought pizza should taste. I remember thinking when I went away to college, “How strange. Why do people not know how to make pizza here?” And my husband (then boyfriend) had to explain to me, “It’s just a different kind of pizza.” At the time, I was not even aware there were different kinds!

And so my husband, bless his heart, tried every recipe he could come up with to get the sauce just “right” for me. A little extra basil here, more garlic there, less oregano . . . but it just was not the same as I remembered. Then one day, he opened up a can of San Marzano tomatoes and added salt. Just salt. And voilà! He had perfected the best New York-style pizza I had ever tasted in my life.

When Jesus tells us to be “salt” for others, he is indeed asking us to add the “flavor” that will awaken their spirits, the “seasoning” that will draw out from them their very best. But Jesus is also asking us not to add a lot of “extra.” What does that mean? It means to simply do whatever He tells us, but to not go above and beyond, thinking we can do even better. We cannot. And generally, we make a mess out of things when we try.

There are times in life that the Lord does not want us to try to help “fix” things, as much as it pains us to undergo trials or to witness others endure sufferings. Sometimes our job is to patiently wait and trust that Jesus has a different plan, one that will work out better. Our prayer is oftentimes the very instrument that brings that plan into fruition, even when we cannot see the results.

Sometimes my young son will ask me for a job to do around the house so he can earn a little money to buy himself a Lego set or a birthday gift for one of his siblings. And so, I will ask him to weed the yard, sort through the kitchen “junk drawer,” or organize boxes in the garage. But then he says to me, “What if I make my bed?” or, “What if I clean my room?” I will respond that no, he will not get compensated for making his bed or cleaning his room because those are chores he is obliged to do anyway.

Nobody here gets money for making their own bed. So, if my son will not get paid for making his bed . . . and I do not necessarily enjoy my obligations either (such as cleaning bathrooms) . . . how is there any freedom in faithfully following Christ if we cannot even take “recompense” from doing what He asks us to do? Where is our choice?

Just as in the case of suffering through a trial that we cannot “fix,” Paul reveals to us exactly where our obligation as Christians becomes for us a choice: our freedom lies in how we carry out our duties and how we carry our crosses:

If I do so willingly, I have a recompense, but if unwillingly, then I have been entrusted with a stewardship. What then is my recompense? That, when I preach, I offer the gospel free of charge so as not to make full use of my right in the gospel. (1 Cor. 9:17-18)

Just like Paul admitted that preaching the Gospel to the Gentiles was more of a compulsion for him than a desire, we too struggle at times to carry out those obligations which are our “duties,” but not our desire. If I love to cook, then there is an in-born recompense that comes with the obligation to feed my family. But if I dread cleaning bathrooms or washing the dishes, then I might let those around me (including the Lord) know how much I loathe this blasted obligation by complaining, sighing heavily, or banging pots and pans around as I wash them in a huff. I may have fulfilled my duty, but I have not fulfilled it as a follower of Christ.

St. Paul tells us precisely how we can fulfill our obligation as followers of Christ. We can elevate our obligation into a free-will choice. But how can I possibly “decide” to start liking the job of bathroom cleaning? How can we force ourselves to enjoy something we have a distaste for? We cannot. And if we equate “choice” with “enjoyment,” our efforts will end in frustration.

Paul did not come to the point of ever “liking” his beatings or imprisonment. But he did come to love God’s will. And it is here that he willingly chose it. So how did Paul prove his willingness when he would never be able to prove it by way of his feelings? Instead of fruitlessly trying to enjoy something which he detested, Paul chose to forego the recompense that was his due as a minister of Christ.

Let’s remember, Jesus said, “the laborer deserves his payment” (Lk. 10:7). Paul, in his letter to the Corinthians, accepts no such payment. He is entitled to it, but instead he has made the choice to offer the Gospel “free of charge.” This is the only way he is able to fulfill his obligation willingly, an obligation which he otherwise feels unwilling to do. 

Friends, like Paul, we too have the power to choose to be willing in carrying out those obligations imposed upon us. How can we, like Paul, give the Lord our willingness, when we have no affection for the duties and the trials we dislike?

By not accepting the recompense that is our legitimate due.

If I prepare dinner with the expectation or hope that I am going to get compliments from the people seated around my dinner table, then my willingness is at risk of turning into resentment on the days that I do not.

Recompense should have no bearing whatsoever on how we carry out our duties—which should be done willingly. It may feel as though our willingness should depend upon recompense, but let’s make the choice today that it will not. If we can find it in ourselves to make that conscious choice, like Paul, our recompense will come in the form of our being partakers in the Good News!

Paradoxically, it is in our willingness to forego the recompense we deserve, that Jesus then fills our hearts with something even better: His love, His joy, and His peace that surpasses all understanding.

Author’s Note: Excerpt from The Safe Haven: Scriptural Reflections for the Heart and Home, Ordinary Time (Weeks 1-7). To purchase, visit Amazon or The Catholic Company, where all other volumes currently in print are also available.  

Photo by Jason Tuinstra on Unsplash