Dear one,
As I dried my hands, and as I turned to view a wizened man, dark of hair and short of stature, I said: “Thank you for working.”
Immediately he looked at me. He ceased wiping and cleaning the restroom sink, as a sheepish but delightful light flashed across his features. No longer did he bear a somber aspect, by which he presumably sought to be as inconspicuous as possible: Do your job; blend in, and don’t let others know what you’re feeling and thinking.
He exuded a radiant, toothless smile, bowed slightly, nodding his head, and simply said: “Thank you.” But he and I both knew that his labors had been noted with great appreciation, and that my thank you was sincere.
During the past two decades, we Americans have known those moments, when our bonds have become fully manifest. 911 was one of those moments; the financial collapse of 2008 was another; and most certainly, covid has provided a further such moment. In our covid-world, with sincere appreciation we began to rightly recognize those who labored or even risked for our mutual benefit; but now, in our post-covid world, we are simply grateful for those who are willing and able to work. Thus in prayer Mary and I regularly find ourselves giving thanks for those who labor: the farmers, those who package, the truck drivers, those who stock shelves … that we might eat and live comfortably.
My experience with the man in the airport restroom was not the first occasion, when I expressed my thanksgiving, but his response was characteristic: a slight, bewildered expression; a shy but brightly beaming smile, whereby both of us know that what they’re doing is more than a paycheck—although it surely is that. But because of these fleeting encounters, and because of our dependence upon those who labor, my thoughts turned to Max Webber and his “Protestant work ethic.” In truth, I know little of his writings, but by experience and observation I would affirm: with the Protestant Reformation, and as its seminal thought-forms flowed into European life and subsequently crossed the Atlantic, work as a worthy, meaningful, and human “occupation” was applauded. But I wonder: with the decline of the Protestant church and its influence upon American life, will our view of work change?
As evident within the Adam and Eve Account (Genesis 2:15), work was good; but in the world of the Snake (Genesis 3), in a world of vying goddesses and gods, it often became dehumanizing. Either too much work or too little work destroyed the human soul, but such destruction was not our Creator’s intent, particularly if we reflect our Creator’s image—our Creator who labored in creating. In this same regard, I was further reminded of Jesus’ words:
“We must work the works of him who sent me, while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world” (John 9:4-5).
By His light, may you and I do the work to which He has called us.
Laboring, Stan