Herbert McCabe, the great 20th-century Dominican theologian, said once that the reason a Christian went to work in the morning (apart from needing to do things like eat and survive) is that “it is his business to humanize the world, to make it his own so that he can offer it to God.” That is, the Christian, by means of his or her work, was not only to make the world a more humane and human place, he or she was also to make whatever he or she made into an offering to God; “an offering of the human thing to the Father,” is how McCabe put it.
That is, work is meant not merely to supply oneself with what one needs or what one’s family needs; rather, work is also meant to be an offering to the Father. Which, of course, is to say that our work is meant to belong to what Christ gives to the Father, namely the entire redeemed world, all that which is wrapped up in Christ’s offering of himself, an offering mystically real in every Mass celebrated. Which, further, is why a Christian’s work must always be moral, because if it doesn’t belong to the peace that is “in accordance” with God’s will, as we pray in the Mass, such work cannot be an offering — if it does not further the peace of Christ.
| September 1 – Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time |
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Dt 4:1-2, 6-8 Ps 15:2-3, 3-4, 4-5 Jas 1:17-18, 21-22, 27 Mk 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23 |
Now, we’re diving into the deep end here — of theology and morality — but I don’t intend to say anything complicated at all. Rather, hearing the Scripture on this Labor Day weekend, I am simply wondering out loud about what work is for. Labor Day is a secular holiday given to giving thanks for gift of work and the gift of workers, but what does God’s word say about it? That’s all I’m asking. And all I’m saying is that what I think God’s word says is that our work should be able to be turned into an offering to God — an offering that is morally beautiful, fit for God. Otherwise, if it isn’t, then maybe we should reconsider our work — reform it, redeem it, or perhaps do something else.
Observe carefully
I am thinking about the readings given to us this Sunday in broad terms. I am thinking of the Law given by God to his people — a law of justice and work and rest and worship — which they were called upon to observe “carefully” (Dt 4:6). I am also thinking about how this Law — born within us by grace as we are born anew in Christ — is for Christians not an external law but an internal law. That is, what comes from Christians — which is hopefully charity instead of things like “evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder, adultery” and the like (Mk 7:21-22) — should come from within us, from within our hearts, which have been entirely converted to Jesus Christ. I am thinking about what this means for us, for how we live and work in the world. I mean, how does being a Christian change anything?
The answer, at least for me, seems to come from James, from his simple and beautiful words. James seems to say it just right. “He willed to give us birth by the word of truth,” James wrote, “that we may be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures” (Jas 1:18). That’s kind of what Herbert McCabe said, isn’t it? We’re called as Christians not only to humanize the world but to offer the “human thing to the Father” — that is, not only ourselves but all we’ve given ourselves to make what is ours a gift to God. That is, what comes from ourselves, what we make of our families, what we make by means of our work, all of it is meant to become a gift we offer the Father through Christ. But again, that presumes we’re struggling to be holy in everything we do — at home, at work, everywhere. Because Christ is Lord of all.
St. John Paul II said that in work the Christian discovers “a small part of the cross of Christ and accepts it.” But, when he or she does accept his or her work in Christ, “a glimmer of new life” always shines forth — the redemption of work, the redemption of the world, heaven. Again, if we offer everything in Christ to the Father — ourselves first and then all our good work.
