Happy Sunday before Labor Day – also known as, “The Sunday No One Comes to Church” because it is, normally, the last long weekend of the summer before school starts and before we begin our “usual” routines. So, if you’re watching this, just know you get extra Heaven points (kidding, that isn’t how this grace thing works…but that’s another sermon).
I say all this to recognize where we are in the calendar year and with a grain of salt; recognizing that nothing is actually “normal” because of COVID, to include every day being Sunday. But still, recognizing the calendar date is important because, my hunch is, even if our typical start-of-fall routines are disrupted, we’re still feeling the looming pressure of all that fall brings. Again, just listening to my gut, something tells me that this looming pressure is directly tied to an insatiable need for productivity. Isn’t it curious that the holiday which ends the summer months – those months characterized by trips to the mountains, weekends on the lake, nights sitting on the front porch as you watch the fireflies dance, days motivated by a watermelon sugar high – is called “Labor Day”? There is something intriguing to me that, in the United States, we end summer and usher in fall with a holiday directly tied to labor – to economic productivity. So, as we experience the pressures of this new season, may we take a moment to reimagine productivity as a community of faith. COVID has forced us to reimagine everything else, so why not add productivity to the list? You see, I’m starting to believe that the secular concept of economic productivity which drives our collective behavior in the United States inhibits our ability to find not just rest in God, but also joy in God – and, by extension, in one another. Before we unpack this please hear me when I say that I recognize that economic productivity has a role to play in our society. I’m not here to advocate for a new economic model. I claim no expertise in this. What we’re doing here is a brief thought experiment to reimagine productivity – or, at least, our personal relationship with productivity – through the lens of our Christian faith. One of the greatest tensions that we navigate as Christians is the reality that we live in the world, but are not of the world – that is to say, we both live within systems and have a charge to reimagine them, as if God’s kingdom were here on earth, as it is in heaven. This charge to reimagine the world was gifted to us when our God became incarnate and dwelled among us – radically altering how humanity imagined the Divine. So, let us reimagine productivity; and maybe, just maybe, this will help us find rest and joy in God, and in one another as we enter into a new season. To reimagine productivity from a faith-based perspective, we needn’t look further than the Collect for Labor Day found in our Book of Common Prayer – our rule of life and faith. The Collect reads: Almighty God, you have so linked our lives one with another that all we do affects, for good or ill, all other lives: So guide us in the work we do, that we may do it not for self alone, but for the common good; and, as we seek a proper return for our own labor, make us mindful of the rightful aspirations of other workers, and arouse our concern for those who are out of work…[1] Interestingly, the Collect does not perpetuate the conditions which led to the foundation of Labor Day in 1894. Conditions which included overworking and underpaying both adult and child laborers, exploiting the working poor, competition, and dangerous work environments. Conditions which inspired over a decade of protests, strikes, riots, and boycotts – culminating in the Pullman Strike during which 13 workers were killed and 57 were wounded by officials of the state… These conditions which inspired President Grover Cleveland to make Labor Day a federal holiday signaled that the United States valued a market economy which prioritized economic growth over human flourishing, productivity over people. Individual worth – let alone collective worth – was tied to economic contribution; the number of widgets you produced. These conditions are antithetical to the theology we espouse as Christians for our theology teaches that “love does no wrong to a neighbor.”[2] Thus, they necessitate a faithful reimagining of productivity from an economic concept which bases worth on the number of outputs of tangible goods produced per unit input, to a social concept which values the intangible goods of connection, hospitality, and compassion above all else. We see this reimagined notion of productivity in the theology embedded in our Collect for Labor Day. Let’s take a look… Our Collect first establishes that, through God – in whose image and likeness we are all made – we are all linked. Our lives caught up in one another, much like the ethics established by the first Christian communities in Acts in which the believers were one in heart and soul and shared all things.[3] This is reflected in the South African concept of ubuntu. As Archbishop Desmond Tutu explained, our humanity is inextricably bound up in one another’s. There is no me without you, or you without me. There is not competition here. Rather, only mutuality and care for our neighbor. Our Collect then invokes God’s presence in our daily work, recognizing that we do still live within a market economy so, yes, we do still need to go to work. Yet, in our Collect, we pray that communal well-being rather than selfish ambition is our motivation. This principle of common good forces us to consider whether all are cared for, including the least of these, just like Jesus implored us to do when he cautions that the Son of Man is near and will embrace those who fed the hungry and thirsty, welcomed the stranger, clothed the naked, and visited the sick and imprisoned.[4] Finally, our Collect turns to justice. We ask for “proper return” for labor, rather than exploitation. A notion that can be expanded to consideration of compensation for migrant labor, domestic labor, emotional labor, and so many other dimensions of labor which go uncompensated and unvalued. We ask to mindful of others’ aspirations. That is, if we are in positions to uplift and empower others, then we must. Is that not what Christ did when making disciples? And we petition God to make us mindful of those out of work – a reality of so many in our world today due to COVID and other structural impediments which make finding work nearly impossible. So, with our Collect for Labor Day in mind, imagine with me here… what if instead of determining productivity by the number of widgets you produce by unit input, we redefined productivity by how well we listened, served, and loved? What if we flipped the secular concept of economic productivity on its head and instead of valuing productivity over people, we valued people over productivity? This to me sounds like living our baptismal vows to:
Because we as Christians were gifted the opportunity through Jesus to reimagine our world as God’s kingdom, we can engage this thought experiment of what our market economy would look like if we introduced moral and social economies, and rooted our work in the virtues of connection, hospitality, and compassion. These principles then tie into everything we do, including how we practice our faith. Reimagining our personal relationships with productivity draws us closer to God and each other because it is an exercise in establishing the new creation that we are in Christ.[9] This reimaging implores us to consider our neighbors, just as Jesus did. It implores us to be more Christ-like, focusing on virtues such as connection, hospitality, and compassion. It frees us from idolatry, enabling us to focus on God – who commands us to love God and love neighbors. So, my hunch is, as we enter this fall season and feel a new wave of looming pressure that is directly tied to an insatiable need for productivity, if we detangle economic output from “success,” then we can more easily find rest and joy, in both God and our neighbor. This Labor Day, may we be challenged to reimagine our personal relationships with productivity and consider how they influence when we turn to God and how we value one another. Amen. [1] BCP 1979, 261. [2] Romans 13:10. [3] Acts 4:32. [4] Matthew 25:31-40. [5] BCP 1979, 304. [6] BCP 1979, 305. [7] Ibid. [8] Ibid. [9] 2 Corinthians 5:17. |