God has created me to do Him some definite service.

“Prepare supper for me…Serve me.  Later you can eat and drink…(Luke 17:8)

How harsh this Gospel seems at first hearing it.  The hot and dusty worker is told by his boss to serve him a meal before he has even had a chance to take a shower! Yet Scripture often presents Jesus using such sharp images to shock us into attention and to make us think about what he is really trying to convey.

Sure, there is a very simple way of interpreting this message:  DO YOUR JOB!  Whatever it is, just do it and don’t’ expect to receive abundant thanks or adulation for it. But, of course, there is another level of meaning.  It is the story of role reversals.

The Jerome Biblical Commentary links this passage to Luke 22: 26 when Jesus tells the apostles "the greatest among you must behave as if he were the least”.  And to John, 13: 4-10 -- the story of Jesus Washing the Feet of the Apostles at the Last Supper- wherein the Master becomes the Servant. In today’s Gospel, Jesus is talking to his apostles who probably think that they will be the Masters of his Church.  What does he do?  He gives them a reality check that leadership in His Church is different.  The apostles should be prepared to be the servants who must do all that they are commanded to do, and more. This Gospel sends a clear message to us as Christians— we are not only expected to ‘do our job’ but we are to go beyond the basics and live a life of service to others.

Indeed, each of us has been blessed with certain talents and interests which exist in a given time and place.  Within that setting, which varies for every person, we are called both to become the person we are meant to be and to assist in building up God’s Kingdom here on earth.  We do this by serving others as Jesus did.

Now, these are all fine as challenging concepts, nice ideas, or perhaps lofty goals to strive to achieve.  And we should take them seriously.  They are at the heart of Christian teachings. But they should not remain in the realm of the merely conceptual or even abstract. They must be lived out in action.  So, permit me to personify today’s readings by sharing with you a portion of the life and teachings of someone who truly did embrace these ideals and live by them, a person who stood in this very pulpit 200 years ago, John Henry Newman.

A brief history:  Born in 1801, Newman was a student at Trinity College, Oxford.  He went on to become a tutor in Oriel College and in 1828,  Rector of this, St. Mary’s University Church.  This was the setting in which John Henry Newman was called to “do his job”—to teach, to minister to others, and to be holy.  It is also the setting in which he endured suffering, as we heard today in Paul’s letter to Timothy: “Join with me in suffering for the Gospel according to His own purpose and by His own grace.” (2 Timothy 8-9)

As a student, Newman read and studied conscientiously and excelled in his courses while also deepening his faith.  Yet, when it came time for his final exams, despite the fact that he was known to be brilliant, he badly underperformed.  This was a severe shock and an embarrassing disappointment.

In 1825 as a very young clergyman, he was sent beyond the immediate bounds of ministry to the University to St. Clements Parish. There he worked with families who needed his pastoral care much more than his intellectual prowess.  Newman had to step out of his comfort zone-- the life of the mind-- and minister to the realities of the everyday lives of his parishioners.  

This was a stretch and a real struggle for him which he nevertheless embraced. In doing so, his personal and pastoral skills were much more fully developed and he became a better person for it.  Not long after, Newman was assigned to teach at Oriel College. He did not simply convey facts or grand ideas.  He took great care to be sure that his pupils were also educated in their faith and developed ethical and upright characters. Yet here, again, he encountered suffering.  He received pushback from his academic superiors who did not agree with his approach, so they ceased assigning him any pupils.  Suddenly, he was out of a job!  This brilliant and caring teacher was pushed aside in a most hurtful fashion.

So, he went on an extended visit to the continent to reassess ‘what was next’ and while recovering from a serious illness, came to the realization that “I have a work to do in England.”  He could have just read books, played his violin, or sat in a pub engaging in deep intellectual discussions.  But no, he, along with several colleagues, formed the Oxford Movement.  They believed that the Church of England was losing its bearings and heading off course.  Writing in the Tracks for the Times, he challenged the Church to reinvigorate itself and strengthen its original core beliefs. This created not only a tremendous amount of work for him but led to quite a stir—both positive and negative.

Ultimately, he endured very painful consequences upon the publication of the final Tract 90.  He was banned from preaching and eventually left Oxford—a place that had been the center of this life for over 25 years.  In a poignant sermon in 1843 entitled “the Parting of Friends”, Newman shares the pain this departure caused him.

Eventually, through years of study and prayer, he converted to Roman Catholicism.  In our day of ecumenism, when we accept and respect one another’s faith traditions, his departure from the Church of England would not seem so momentous.  But in those days, there was suspicion on both sides. Newman’s conscience impelled him to convert, but in the process, close friends and some family members banished him for ‘turning to Rome.’  At the same time, because he had written against ‘Rome’ many times, Catholic clergy and lay members did not fully trust him or welcome him into the fold. 

Newman ultimately became an Oratorian priest and founded a new Community in Birmingham.  There he lived out his primary vocation-- to be a faithful member of the Oratory community. Yet, once again, as today’s Gospel commands he went far beyond this primary calling. A few miles from Birmingham there was a Cadbury Chocolate factory.  Many young Irish women worked there in the hey-day of the Industrial Revolution.  They were distressed because they were being forced to work on Sunday and couldn’t get to Mass.    While not at all in his ‘job description,’ Newman intervened and received management’s assurance that these women would have time off to worship.

One final example:  in 1851, he was asked by the Catholic Bishops of Ireland to form a university in Dublin.  Just as in his days as a Tutor at Oxford, Newman wanted the students to be broadly educated in math, science, history, art, literature to accompany the required theology and philosophy.  He crossed the Irish Sea numerous times over 7 years—long before the days of the comfort and speed of the Fast Ferry!  In the end, there were too many ‘cooks’ stirring the pot.  His theory of what it means to be a TRULY well-educated person was not accepted and, sadly, the university did not thrive.

I offer these snippets to show you that at every stage of his life, John Henry Newman truly lived today’s readings. 
In every example,  he did his job, he served others,  and he suffered. He fully lived the Gospel of Service as Luke has shown us. He Suffered as Paul predicted in his letter to Timothy. And, all the while, his faith sustained him.  

In 2019, John Henry Newman was canonized a Saint by the Roman Catholic Church. His Feast Day is this Thursday, October 9. In July, 2025, he was named a Doctor of the Church—one of only 38 saints to carry this title—meaning that he has added unique and lasting contributions to the teachings of the Catholic Church. These include: Development of Doctrine, the Role of the Laity, the Primacy of Conscience, and the Idea of a University.

Can we all be John Henry Newmans? I think it is unlikely.  But I leave you with one of his most famous and beautiful prayers.

God has created me to do Him some definite service.  He has committed some work to me which he has not committed to another.  I have my mission.  I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons.  He has not created me for naught.  I shall do good; I shall do His work.  I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it, if I do but keep his commandments.  Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away.  If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him.  He does nothing in vain.  He knows what he is about.  He may take away my friends.  He may throw me among strangers.  He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me.  Still he knows what he is about. Amen.