We are continually saying that for the gifts of God committed to us we must render an account. It has been a platitude in political speeches and in the labour pamphlets of social reformers of every complexion, to declare that we are the stewards of all that we possess, that in real truth we possess nothing, only administer what God has committed to us. Ordinarily this principle is applied merely to wealth, which is after all the most vulgar application of the principle. No doubt it is of importance that those who hold property should realize that the holding of it involves certain quite definite responsibilities; that no ownership is absolute or without limitations; that what is really superfluous to us is not ours at all, if there are others who stand in need of it. The enjoyment of wealth is no doubt a very obvious way in which these truisms are being ignored; and the results of the more or less modem view of absolute ownership of capital are so apparent and so widespread that naturally about it first people complain. But there are other and higher faculties, more important possessions or powers, wealth of a nobler kind, that must all be subjected to the same searching criticism. I must look into all the gifts that I have received from God and see how far I have realized that my possession of them is merely such as a steward might have.
We may even advance the principle further and declare that the higher the responsibility, the greater are the claims of others upon us. A poet has spoken from the experience of his saddened life in the line, "The more the gift, the more the suffering." He does but voice the whole record of humanity. Those, for example, whose ears are more delicately attuned to perceive beauties of tone that are lost on others, gain pleasure that others cannot feel, yet at the same time they have also a distinct and maddening sense of discords of which others have no conception. And so is it with all the gifts of God. But part of this very pain is also the consciousness that these gifts afforded us by God have to be employed not for our own pleasure, but for the service of our fellows. The higher we are placed, the less do we really belong to ourselves: so that the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and "the sweetest and strongest" and truest title of the Vicar of Christ is that he is the " Servant of the Servants of God." We might even quite easily go further and, with reverence, assert that no one is more at the beck and call of creatures than the Creator. He tells us that beneath us are the ever lasting arms, and ventures Himself on the simile that He has carried us through life as the mother is wont to carry her little child. In a very real sense God is the servant of His servants. When they rebel against Him in sin, He goes out to seek for them, hunting for them as the Hound of Heaven, and dies for them again.
How far does this affect me? What are my gifts and how do I use them? for my sake, or for the sake of those for whom God gave them to me? First of all, I must face the fact that I have certain definite talents given to me at the entrance of life, or acquired by the continued kindness of God to me. There is no virtue in pretending not to have them, no virtue possible in a deliberate lie. Each has his own talent. For some it may be a small thing, for others, greater time, leisure, money, power of sympathy, position of influence, clearness of expression, cheerfulness, wit, beauty, youth's enthusiasm or the wisdom of age, or faith or prayer, or skill in some art or craft or game. Politeness to God, gratitude, will make me anxious to know where exactly I have the power of helping others, where my responsibility lies. Then I must ask myself how I am using this? It is a principle of education which seems most congenial to us to accept, that the only way to train souls is to trust them, that if you want to cure an enmity you must find some favour that can be done you by the people who are offended. Now God has so trusted me; He has given me things to do for Him. Am I doing them? Am I conscious, for example, of my responsibility in being a Catholic not merely in the uses that I put my graces and gifts for my own salvation, but as to how I employ them for others. I am a Catholic: am I also an Apostle?
- text taken from Meditations for Layfolk by Father Bede Jarrett, O.P.