Do We Need a Gold Star to Do Good?

I recently learned about a program called “Service as Action” in the International Baccalaureate program. Students receive credit for service projects—structured, documented ways of helping others that count as part of their academic experience. Now let me say right away that encouraging young people to serve others is a good thing. Any program that helps people step outside themselves and invest in their community has real value. Our world certainly needs more of that. But when the person explained it to me, they added something: “Youth today need incentives to do good.” And that comment has been sitting with me.

When I was in school—what feels like a million years ago—there was no such thing as “service hours.” No forms to fill out, no apps tracking your good deeds, no requirement to document how you helped someone. We just did things. I babysat. I picked up trash in the yard. I helped my parents when they needed something. I volunteered at church. And here’s the funny part: I never once thought about it as “service.” It was just what you did. You helped out. You pitched in. You saw something that needed doing and you did it. No one handed you a certificate.  No one put it on your transcript. And I can assure you that no one gave me a gold star for cleaning up.

But the comment stayed with me because it made me wonder if this says something about our broader culture right now. Have we reached a point where we need to incentivize doing good? Do we need a system to remind us to care for one another? Maybe programs like this exist because society has changed, and they are simply responding to the reality around us. In a busy, achievement-driven world, perhaps service needs to be scheduled and tracked in order to happen at all. But that question led me to think about what the Bible says about serving others.

Jesus addresses this in a really interesting way in Matthew 6. He says, “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them… so whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you… but give in secret.” In other words, don’t do good simply so people will notice. Don’t serve so that others can applaud you. Don’t help someone because it will look impressive on a résumé or because someone is keeping score. Instead, do it quietly, because love has taken root in your heart. The motivation matters as much as the action itself.

That is actually one of the things Lent tries to cultivate in us. Lent is a season that gently pushes us to examine our hearts. It calls us to prayer, generosity, repentance, and reflection—not for recognition but for transformation. These are not things we do so someone else will notice. In fact, many of them are meant to be done quietly, almost invisibly. Lent reminds us that the goal of the Christian life is not public recognition but inward change.

Jesus paints a powerful picture of this in Matthew 25 when he speaks about caring for those in need: feeding the hungry, welcoming the stranger, visiting the sick and imprisoned. What’s striking about that passage is that the people who are praised don’t even realize what they have done. They ask, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you?” Their acts of compassion weren’t calculated or recorded somewhere. They were simply part of who they had become. Kindness had become second nature. Helping others was simply the way they lived.

And maybe that’s the deeper hope for all of us. Programs and requirements can certainly encourage people to serve, and there is nothing wrong with that. But the deeper goal of the Christian life is that we eventually don’t need incentives at all. We serve because love has shaped us into people who naturally care for others. We help because grace has changed our hearts. We notice the needs around us and respond, not because someone is keeping track, but because compassion has become part of who we are.

So perhaps this Lenten season invites us to ask ourselves a simple question: if no one were watching, if there were no credit, no recognition, no incentive—would we still choose to serve? Because the kingdom of God has never really run on gold stars. It runs on grace. And grace has a remarkable way of turning ordinary people into people who quietly change the world, one act of love at a time.  See you Sunday!

Peace, Pastor Tracy