For a brief moment early in my married life, I worked at a shoe store. My boss was a very even-keel kind of guy. He was jovial; “merry,” some might say. Only once did I see him really upset and it was over—of all things—a receipt.
Because random Thursdays in February don’t see a lot of foot traffic, it was a rather slow day in the store. So to test us, he casually dropped a paper receipt right in the main aisle—a small piece of trash visible from any angle in the store. Then he watched.
Over the course of an 8-hour shift, as many as six different employees simply walked right over that receipt. We weren’t assisting customers or addressing some emergency. We were just tending a store that didn’t really need tending. Later that night, the boss laid into us for ignoring that small piece of trash.
Broadly, it reflected a store that was unclean and unkempt. Narrowly, it reflected a retail staff that simply didn’t care.
And why?
“It wasn’t my fault.”
“I’m not the one who put it there.”
“I’m not responsible.”
He wasn’t upset because we dropped trash and failed to pick up after ourselves—again, he was the one who put it in the middle of the floor. He was upset because we just didn’t care.
What I learned that day was the difference between being responsible and taking responsibility.
When we entertain questions about being responsible, what we’re really asking is, “Who put the trash there? Who dropped that receipt? Who do we blame for this? Whose fault is it?” Get to the bottom of all that so we can stand over them with folded arms while they clean the mess they made.
Questions about taking responsibility are quite different. We’re not looking to pin the blame on someone (though no doubt someone is probably to blame). We’re asking questions like, “Who will stand up, do the hard thing, and make it right even though the problem is not one they created?”
My boss wasn’t looking for someone to take the blame. He was looking for someone to take responsibility to fix what was wrong regardless of who was at fault.
I feel like this is on display in our country at this very moment. As I write this, the US Federal Government has been shut down for 28 days and counting. Every major news outlet is keeping a running tally of who’s not getting paid. Meanwhile the latest press conferences by House Speaker Mike Johnson and Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer have them each doing the same thing we did in the shoe store.
Ignoring the trash.
Stepping over the receipt.
Blaming each other for “being responsible for this Government shutdown.”
Quite simply not caring.
Meanwhile, federal workers go unpaid and low income communities risk hunger because our elected officials—our leaders—will not take responsibility. While each side is pointing fingers at the other, too few people are stepping up to say, “No, it’s not my fault, but I will take responsibility. It’s not my mess but I will clean it. I didn’t break it but I will fix it.”
Jesus warned us about the political gamesmanship of government leaders, telling his disciples, “You know that the rulers in this world lord it over their people and officials flaunt their authority over those under them” (Mat. 20:25). Christ could have named the names of our elected representatives. Republicans and Democrats alike use the people they are called to serve as pawns to leverage their political power. All while the president’s main priority is a ballroom.
And with that, Matthew 14 plays out right before our eyes. Herod—known for gaudy building projects all around Jerusalem—entertains his rich friends in an attempt to impress those whose approval he covets. And he commits a grave miscarriage of justice to do it, murdering John the Baptist for sport. Raw, unfettered power lording it over the people he rules.
Meanwhile, in a remote place, Jesus finds himself in the valley with 5000 men, not counting women and children, all facing a problem Jesus didn’t create. They are hungry, but Jesus never asks who is at fault. They don’t have food, but Jesus doesn’t point fingers of blame. To be perfectly honest, the people themselves are probably to blame for their own grave miscalculation—who just wanders that far into the remote places without thinking that it might be dinner before they get back? But Jesus doesn’t ask, “Who is responsible for this?”
Jesus is not responsible. But Jesus takes responsibility. He refuses to ignore the trash, stepping over the receipt. Quite simply, Jesus cares, and so he does something about it. He cleans the mess he didn’t create. He fixes the thing he didn’t break. Jesus does not lord leadership over those he has come to rule, leveraging people for his own political ends.
He serves. He breaks bread and feeds those who are hungry. He shares fish with those desperate for a meal. He set a true model for leadership: You want to be first? Be last. You want to truly lead? Then serve. True power is not found in stepping over trash you didn’t drop and then pointing the fingers of blame. It rests in serving others, giving your life to take responsibility for problems you didn’t create, cleaning messes you didn’t make, fixing things you didn’t break.
No greater display of this type of leadership can be found than in the long shadow of the cross, where “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). Talk about taking responsibility for a problem he didn’t create! This is leadership. This is care. This is love.
My point here is not simply to blame those who blame others in some noble attempt to shame political leaders into opening the government—that would be ironically hypocritical and just another example of stepping over a receipt I didn’t drop.
Matthew 14 and 20 are not the window through which I judge elected officials, but the mirror in which I stare at myself. In Matthew 14, Jesus doesn’t point fingers at Herod, he simply shows a better way to lead and invites me to do likewise. In Matthew 20, Jesus doesn’t lay blame at the feet of those responsible for abuse. Instead, he shoves it back onto our laps: “With you, it will be different.” True Christlike leadership is taking responsibility to fix problems we didn’t create.
So Jesus asks, are you going to join the finger-pointing too, or are you quietly going to serve?
Let’s pray for leaders on both sides, that they may have courage to step up and do the right thing—the hard thing. Let’s pray they may be motivated more by service than power. But Jesus calls us to be different. Though we didn’t create these problems, and though we have no real power to wield, Jesus invites us to take responsibility. If you are in danger of running out of SNAP or WIC benefits, come and find me. If you are in danger of going hungry because government leaders are happy to volley blame back and forth, Trinity Church of the Nazarene will help. I cannot personally reopen our government. But I will take responsibility where I can.
If the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and give his life as a ransom for many, should we not do the same?
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