Jesus’ Call For the Extra Mile

Lent encourages us all to reflect on areas of sin and commit to a “firm desire of amendment”. We might turn to the Ten Commandments or other lists of wrong-doing to help us pinpoint where we are in need of God’s grace.

But notice that in the general Act of Penance at the beginning of Mass, we express regret “for what we have done and for what we have failed to do”. We are usually good at remembering the times when we have done wrong — but how often do we recall the times when we have failed to do good?

We might feel that doing good is somehow extra — that simply not doing bad is all that is required of us. There is a lovely Latin-based word for the kind of virtue of doing more than is morally required: supererogatory. I imagine a hero in the spiritual version of Marvel Comics who is called the Supererogator.

But isn’t that kind of stuff just for saints? After all, we may think, it is enough that I did not kill or hurt someone — do I really have to go out of my way to help someone as well?

The early Church Fathers argued that the distinction between positive sin (doing something wrong) and negative sin (not doing something good) can be blurred. St Basil delivered a famous “Sermon to the Rich” in Asia Minor in the 4th century but it would not be out of place in South Africa in the 21st century. He said:

“Now, someone who takes a man who is clothed and strips him naked would be termed a robber; but when someone fails to clothe the naked when he is able to do this, is such a man not also deserving of being called a robber? The bread which you hold back belongs to the hungry; the coat which you guard in your locked storage-chests belongs to the naked.”

Not just for the saints

The Gospels clearly agree: “If someone forces you to go with them one mile, travel the second mile also” (Matthew 5:41). Indeed, “going the extra mile” is enshrined in our language as a way of describing doing something extra, and we do not usually think that it is reserved just for the holiest of people. We notice it when people around us behave like this, and we praise them; and we feel justly proud when we do it.

Yet, often we fail to “go out of our way”. My greater worry is that often we fail to do the good that is in our way. We are so focused on ourselves that we do not make use of the simplest opportunities to help someone.

A famous story is told about a group of seminarians who were instructed to report to a lecture hall in ten minutes to deliver a sermon on the Good Samaritan, on which they would be assessed. They were so keen to show off their preaching skills that they raced across the campus to get to the hall so they could be first in line.

Meanwhile, their wise formator had arranged for a scruffy, old man to sit in the corridor on the way, looking lost and coughing badly. And as the future priests rushed past him, ready to preach about the Levite who ignored the man at the side of the road, they all completely disregarded the man right in front of them, failing to ask if he needed help.

The failure to care

Every day homeless people come to us at the Denis Hurley Centre in Durban because they know that our staff and volunteers will care for them by serving food or offering healthcare or just be available to listen. I am constantly impressed by those who make time to offer their service. But there are 3,5 million other people in Durban who also could help. Some people will travel across the city to help at the DHC while others, who are right next door, do not.

Of course, those who don’t might well be doing good in other ways and we all do not have to do everything: but we do all have to do something. Actually, for all the talk of ubuntu, the failure to care is something that seems to have been conditioned into the way that most people operate in South Africa.

I have faced several examples of this lately, and it is indicative that my story could be about a government office or a bank or a university or a church. Simple requests were ignored, or responded to after a long delay, or met with an irrational “no” when a “yes” would have required minimum effort from the other party and would have been of great help to me.

While it is the poorest who suffer most from this failure to care — because they are least likely to have other options — we all encounter the impact of this in our daily lives. We send an email and we get no reply; we phone a call centre and get passed from pillar to post; we turn up at the advertised time but are told that the office has closed early or the systems are off-line; we ask for assistance and are told to come back next week; we wait patiently for someone to deal with our problem and the other person just drags their feet.

Culture of lame excuses

Of course, there are always “explanations”: the system is off-line, I am not empowered to act, I was off sick, I have been very busy, computer says no, I need to gather more information. Sometimes these are genuine, but often they are just what they sound like — lame excuses.

It is especially frustrating when the person is being paid to provide a service; even more so when we know there will be no consequences for their failures. Yet all of these organisations — and especially the Church! — are full of Christians who, following the Gospel, could set a higher standard of response than the norm. Or do we stop being Christians when we go to work and then become just as selfish as everyone else around us?

In any case, as a Christian I should help, whether or not I am being paid, whether or not it is my job, so long as I am able to do so and it is not an overly onerous task. In fact, even if it costs me a bit of time and effort, I should “go the extra mile”, because that is the standard of virtue that Jesus set.

Once we recognise this, it should change radically how I conduct my examination of conscience. I can start by looking back just over the past day and ask myself very simple questions: Did I reply promptly to that email, did I give the help that I was asked for, did I prioritise what is important to others, did I act in a timely way so that others were not inconvenienced, did I take the trouble to listen to the other person? Or was I too busy, too self-absorbed, too lazy or too uncaring to help?

Whether I am an invisible operator in a call centre or a priest or bishop with all the trappings of office, these questions still apply. And the greater the opportunity we have to help others, the greater the judgment will be if we fail to do so.