Work not to
survive, but to live
Harry Scherer
Class of 2022
(9/2019) "In the sweat of your face you
shall eat bread till you return to the ground" (Genesis
3:19). God said this to Adam after he "listened to the
voice of [his] wife", namely, to eat from the tree of the
knowledge of good and evil (3:17). As man defied the Lord
for this knowledge, work became toilsome. Before this act
of rebellion, man was still charged with work: "Be
fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it"
(1:28). These actions required work, but it was because of
the active denial of the will of God that made this gift
of work burdensome.
Our modern ears might recoil at
the claim that work is a burden. Many of us consider
ourselves "workaholics", literally, addicted to work. As
alcoholism suggests a disordered use of alcohol,
workaholism suggests a disordered use of work. In fact,
the consequences of this obsession with work can define
the zeitgeist of our postmodern world. Persons in this
world are limited to their material production, regardless
of the manner in which this production was procured.
Thankfully, these problems were
addressed centuries ago. St. Antonio of Florence, a 15th
century Dominican theologian and economist, was in the
position to define the nature and end of work in order to
encourage the State to reign in unbridled mercantilism, in
the same way that distributes thought leaders in the 20th
century Church like Ven. Fulton Sheen, G.K. Chesterton and
Hilaire Belloc called for limitations to unbridled
capitalism. Blessed Antonio clearly and concisely stated
that "the object of making money is that we may provide
for ourselves and our dependents. The object of providing
for self and others is that one may live virtuously. The
object of living virtuously is to save our souls and
attain eternal happiness." My guess is that many who are
considered successful in modern terms would submit to the
first half of the first sentence and nothing more.
Consider the individualist
response to the first claim. "By denying or minimizing the
social and public character of the right of property," the
postmodern culture denigrates the purpose of production to
pure utility or pleasure (Pius XI, Quadragesimo Anno, 46).
The modern cultural response to the second and third claim
of Antonio would be simple: virtue does not exist or, if
it does, is irrelevant to our progressing society and
souls and eternal happiness does not exist because
everything is material and happiness cannot be eternal.
On the other side, I consider the
natural progression which Antonio suggests to be a
refreshing and rational explanation of the nature of work.
Outside of this understanding, work would seem pointless.
Without the grace to sanctify the work which we have
inherited as toilsome, why would we work at all? It is
this grace which inspired Augustine to proclaim: "Late
have I loved Thee, O beauty so ancient and new, late have
I loved Thee!" The liberating admission that work can be
done not just for the laboring individual but for others,
that this unselfish work can lead us directly to virtue
and that these good habits can, by the mercy of God, lead
us directly to our sanctification is a justification of
all our labors.
If these supernatural benefits
were not enough to instill a "work ethic" in all of us,
then the obligation to work will have to suffice.
Scripture confirms what reason informs us: "if anyone will
not work, let him not eat" (2 Th 3:10). These words
reinforce a common and perennial resentment among,
strangely enough, both the working and political class for
those who receive much for little work. Culturally, we
still accept that members of our society should work and
receive what is appropriate for that work. Because this
expectation revolves around a mentality which emphasizes
the production of workers, those for whom productive work
is difficult are deemed as less than human. Proof of this
claim can be found in mental handicap-selective abortions
in the Scandinavian countries and widespread sex-selective
abortions in many Asian countries. Again, the teaching of
St. Antonio provides an alternative method to this
utilitarian derision of our work. Because the teaching of
the Church regarding work does not limit its scope to mere
production, the value of work is elevated to that which
the human soul desires. For this reason, the small actions
of a pure soul with Down Syndrome participates in the real
meaning of work more than the tired labors of a CEO at a
major finance firm. The person with Down Syndrome
recognizes, at least passively, that true work is
sanctifying, while the CEO works sixty-hour weeks in vain.
After our work has been completed,
we have a temporary and final time of reposition. In this
earthly life, we can recognize the fruits of our labors
and take pride in our actions to the extent that Mother
St. Theresa of Calcutta took pride in her actions: "I am a
little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending
a love letter to the world." In her time of repose, Mother
Theresa considered the work of her hands as but an
extension of the hands of God. We, too, have this time of
repose to consider how we work, why we work and for whom
we work. In this time, we can consider these questions
from a merely superficial level when compared to our
eternal repose. This time of repose on earth is a
precursor to eternal contemplation of God, by His mercy.
Now, we have the opportunity to consider the words of St.
Paul when he says at the end of his second letter to
Timothy: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished
the race, I have kept the faith" (2 Tim 4:7). Now is our
opportunity to reclaim the authentic meaning of work in a
culture which is desperately seeking this truth.
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