“Without cost you are to give.” I hear this line, spoken by Jesus in today’s Gospel, with a bit of initial skepticism. There is always a cost to service. Even if, as Jesus commands us, we give freely without charging others, there is still a cost that we have to pay ourselves. Service takes physical and emotional energy. In my own workplace, I see this every day. I work directly with low income people in my rural community. New hires come into their jobs hoping to help people, but they quickly get burnt out by too many needs and too little pay. After only 3 years, I’m considered a veteran in our field. I’m sure that you’ve felt the cost of service in your own life – perhaps when working in a caregiving job, volunteering in your community, or serving family members. You know that feeling when altruism turns into dread and overwhelm? The feeling that even though your work is needed, and it’s the right thing to do, you just can’t keep going? That’s burnout.

This Gospel reading shows Jesus’s response to the conditions of burnout.Matthew tells us that when Jesus saw the crowd, he recognized that they were “troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” No doubt, the needs were overwhelming. Throughout this Gospel passage, Jesus models how to respond to enormous needs without burning out.

The very first thing Jesus does isn’t an action at all – it’s simply allowing himself to feel compassion. This may sound like an obvious first step, but it’s easy to forget. In the face of suffering, we’re tempted to wall ourselves off from any emotion, let alone empathy. That’s certainly been true for me. I work out of a non-profit hub that serves about 400 walk-ins per month. Day in and day out, clients come in to tell me that they have lost their jobs, lost their utilities, lost their homes, and sometimes lost their hope. All the stories of suffering, pain, and brokenness are incredibly difficult to hear. It can seem like the only way to make it through the day is to go through the motions robotically, cutting off my feelings for self-preservation. I can convince myself that this is better for me. But Jesus shows us a different way to serve. He leads with compassion, which creates genuine emotional connection. Research about resiliency supports this point – it shows that remaining rooted in the “why” behind our work – in the person in front of me – actually protects from burnout. Perhaps that’s because allowing ourselves to connect opens us to experiencing the joys of service, as well as its heartaches. I remember a client who walked 30 minutes in the blazing August heat just to tell me she had landed a job. If I had not genuinely empathized with her over the stress of unemployment, I wouldn’t have been able to feel the exhilaration of celebrating her good news when it came. The joy in that woman’s hug fueled my work for months.

After Jesus sees the crowd and his heart is moved, he addresses the issue of labor shortage. He does this by gathering a team, and even by encouraging them to pray for more hands to help. It’s worth noting that Jesus did not try to meet all the needs alone. The Divine shows us that service is best done in community. This is the second antidote this passage offers for burnout. Even Jesus, when touched by the crowd, responded by commissioning and training others. I have to remember to do this, too – to reach out and build a team of support for the needs I cannot, or should not, meet alone. In my work, this often means asking others to collaborate to assist a family. Because I live in a small community where there are limited hands to help, it’s tempting to think “If I don’t do it, no one will.” But this is the voice of fear and pride. Today’s responsorial psalm reminds me of the truth: we are God’s people, the sheep of God’s flock. So when I can’t meet the need, and I don’t see anyone else who can either, I ask God to intercede. My daily commute home from work becomes a time of prayer for all of the “troubled and abandoned” people in God’s flock.

The final words of this Gospel tell us, “Without cost you have received, without cost you are to give.” Ah! This is the final and necessary piece of the puzzle for preventing burnout: We can’t give without first receiving. Because we cannot give what we do not have, we must first be filled. This idea is prevalent in popular psychology. It’s often boiled down to the need for self-care, as if our cups could be filled by self-love and love from other people. Our faith reminds us that the antidote to burnout cannot only be self-care; we also have to receive God’s care. Each of us belongs to God, and has been showered with divine love. Basking in that love allows us to tap into gratitude, transforming our service from an obligation, into the overflow of a grateful heart. We remember that we truly have received God’s love without cost; why not give love to others freely?

This is the beauty of faith. Our time, energy, and very spirit are not our own; they are the gifts of God, entrusted to us for the good of the community. When we are vessels of the Holy Spirit, we become Christ’s hands and feet and heart in this world.

My final invitation is inspired by the story of Moses. In the first reading, we hear that he intentionally went up the mountain in order to hear God’s voice. This brings to mind one of my favorite quotes by St. John Cardinal Henry Newman who said, “I sought to hear the voice of God and climbed the topmost steeple, but God declared: ‘Go down again — I dwell among the people.’” Jesus tells us we can find him in the poor and marginalized. Just as Moses had to be intentional and leave his comfort zone to seek out God, we may have to do the same. If our lives are not bringing us into contact with “the crowd”, thoseabandoned or troubled, we need to make intentional choices to be among them. We need to connect with people who are suffering because that is where we will hear God’s voice.

So in the coming days and weeks, let us follow Jesus’s example by going among the crowd, allowing our hearts to be moved, gathering our teams to minister, and along every step of the way, receiving God’s love with divine gratitude.