Forgive me, but this week’s parable might just make an ass (donkey) of you.
In this story about donkeys in Ethiopia, there are great parallels between those beasts and a small band of believers in so many churches.
See if you can spot the many ways in which you, perhaps, are just like the four-footed force that’s changing the face of one of north Africa’s most desperate countries.
For starters, Ethiopia has five million donkeys, second only to China’s 12 million. “My donkey is my life,” says 51-year-old-farmer Lema Raya. “Without him, my family cannot eat or drink. He carries our water and food. He’s our provider, car and friend.”
In the barren, rocky highlands where roads and communications don’t exist, the surefooted, uncomplaining creatures are the only way of getting food and water to millions. But donkey expert Feseha Gebreab says the animals are badly overworked. With their incredible pain threshold, the beasts of burden usually struggle on, no matter how hard they’re pushed or how badly they’re treated. With more work comes more injuries and a shorter life.
At the Donkey Sanctuary, the creatures get specialized care in a high-tech clinic funded by a British group that also runs donkey hospitals in India, Kenya, Mexico, Spain and England. Most animals are treated for parasites, saddle sores and hyena bites.
“We have animals brought in here with huge chunks from their sides missing because of hyena bites or gaping, bleeding sores from poor saddles and strapping,”says Gebreab. “Any other animal would collapse, but donkeys keep on working. They are giants.”
The Sanctuary teaches farmers from across the country how to care for their donkeys, stressing prevention not just treatment. To teach greater respect for the beasts, clinic staff encourage owners to name their animals and hand out animal classics like Black Beauty. They also point out the donkey’s role in Scripture. As Gebreab says, “The donkey’s mentioned 80 times in the Bible. No other animal is mentioned… so much. Jesus rode a donkey.”
Today, some church leaders are still riding donkeys, and riding them hard. There’s an epidemic in congregations big and small where those who bear heavy loads are overworked and overlooked, despite their increasing contribution. Month after month — week in and weak out — they don’t complain or kick up a fuss. They labour tirelessly to serve others, sustaining families and carrying burdens that weigh them down physically, emotionally and spiritually. Their work almost always comes at great personal cost, to themselves and their families.
Though some work so hard out of a misguided quest for approval, most serve just because the need is there. And because they’re so devoted, they often get saddled with work they’re not equipped for, or they simply take on too much. Over time, the strain leads to serious injury. Parasites take advantage of them, the heavy loads leave them bruised and bloodied, and they suffer the apathy or, even worse, the envy of others who want the glory without the elbow-grease.
The solution is a love-shaped wider sharing of responsibility. “But if… you’re always biting and devouring one another, watch out!” warns Paul. “Beware of destroying one another.” (Gal. 5:15) “Carry each other’s burdens… If you think you’re something when you’re nothing, you deceive yourself. Test your own actions… without comparing yourself to someone else, for everyone must carry their own load.” (6:2-5) Though we must value people for who they are, not what they do, no one is exempt from the work of the church.
If someone else is carrying your load, go get it. If you’ve taken on too much, ask God to show you his priorities, then lighten your burden, even if it means some things don’t get picked up by others. And if you’re blessed by the work of those who serve so selflessly, tell them! Everybody knows even the most stubborn donkeys respond better to a carrot than a stick.