WORK, A GIFT OF GOD

http://sdunnpastor.wordpress.com/2011/09/05/monday-morning-reflections-labor-day/#comment-379

You bet.  Work is a gift from God.  Working at home is almost like being in heaven, too.  Believe me, I know. Here's a story about work.
You're perhaps sitting there thinking that I am going to tell you a story about my first job.  Think again.  That's not it.  Not even about my second job, nor my third, nor... never mind.  In fact this is a story about school.  It floated across my mind the other day when I read a blog post from one of my favorite religious writers, Omar Guttierez on his blog, Regnum Novum  (New Kingdom), now, sadly, defunct.  He caught my mind with the statement that those who work only to satisfy the requirements that lead to retirement are missing the boat.  I'm sure that there are some who will read that and wonder if this guy is out of his mind, or a religious fanatic beyond repair.  Here's what that did to my brain.
Back to the year 1965 we go.  I am at the university waiting in line for my turn to begin the grueling one hour comprehensive final oral exam that is essential in order to be mantled with the Masters in Theology that had brought me here in the first place.  At the bell, my first stop was with the Old Testament professor.  Since I was in front of my favorite teacher, in my favorite subject, this was a comfortable place to start my first of four fifteen minute stops.  He hit me with a great series of questions about the Pentateuch (First five books of the Bible).  Piece of cake.  Next was the Systematic Theology guy.  He was a nice guy, with a reputation for being an iron fist in a velvet glove.  After the initial niceties, he said, "Tell me about your convictions concerning our belief that we are created in the image and resemblance of God."  Silence.  About 15 or 20 seconds.  I'm thinking.  Should I tell him the truth or should I regurgitate what we've heard in class?  I decide to chomp down on the pill, and tell him the truth, weaving some of the stuff that we had heard in class into the narrative.  Back then, I had testosterone to burn.
"Reverende Domine," I started, "...In opinione mea, nobis dedit Deus mudum imperfectum, sicut dedit Israelitis terram imperfectam..." Yeah, we had to talk Latin in that school.
I started by saying that just as God gave the Israelites an imperfect land that they had to conquer, so He gave us a world that needs some work.  Since He is the perfect worker who took a messy blob and made it into the Earth that we know, He did a pretty good job.  He also delegated us to manage it.  So, that's what we do.  We manage it and He allows us to make it better than the way He gave it to us.  Therefore, I said, I think that the blood, sweat of your brow and tears part of the banishment from Eden, comes because we aren't all-powerful, all-knowing, etc, so we have to strain.  But from that comes the reward of  knowing that we are cooperating with Him and accomplishing something good for the world, His world. 
So far, the cold. glassy, professorial scrutiny was still written all over his face.
I was looking for something that he would like in order to get over the ice-age.  He was sitting back, comfortable, not saying "boooo!" and not encouraging me to continue.  Continue, I did. I looked at him and asked an "oratorical" question. It's the only kind you can ask in a final exam.  "What is it that God wants us to work at?"  I see a slight twitch.  I guess the questioning stuff was a new one on him.  I never knew. "It is building the Common Good," says I.  That's what work does.  It gives all creatures comfort in knowing that they are contributing to the construction of the Common Good, the ultimate general happiness of everyone.  No matter what we do as creatures, it is work and it must be aimed at making everyone in the community better off.  Work is a corollary of the commandment to "love our neighbor as we love ourselves."  Now, this guy is actually smiling.  I can see that he is agreeing with me.  I go from the Old Testament to the Catholic Church teachings about work and labor and he's there soaking it all in and he never utters a single syllable. 
After about 10 or 11 minutes, he tapped on the table.  So I wrapped it up in a few seconds and then I put the frosting on the cake:  "Do you have any questions?"  To this day, I thank God and my Guardian Angel that he got the joke.  We laughed heartily.  He stood up, I stood up, we shook hands and I never saw him again.  
Friends, there is much to say about work, labor and retirement.  I once started off an article with some wise cracks about retirement. [HERE]  I can honestly say that I don't believe in it.  But hey, that's just me.  We all have to adjust to our abnormalities, don't we?  Maybe it is better to call them "idiosyncrasies."  It sounds better.