LABOUR DAY
“It’s complicated.” These two words are often used to describe the challenge of defining or explaining the nature of a particular relationship.
For many of us, “It’s complicated” describes our relationship with work. We both love and loathe our jobs. We complain about them and speak of the “Sunday night blues” in anticipation of the coming work week. And yet, when something happens, and a job disappears, we grieve. And it is not just about the loss of income. It is the loss of something that has become foundational to our very being.
We often define our very existence by our work. “What do you do?” is a question about our career. It is not a question about ourselves, our family, our hobbies, or anything else that might comprise our lives. We invest a considerable amount of time and effort in our work.
Sometimes, we experience disappointment and disillusionment, wondering if all the effort is worth it. Wondering if all the “blood, sweat and tears” is making a difference. Wondering, at times, if it really matters.
It is complicated. And it matters. The story of the building of one of Europe’s ancient, massive, visually impressive, and awe-inspiring cathedrals might be helpful. It took generations to build. Tools were limited; they barely reduced the incredible physical effort involved in the construction process.
The story is shared of one brick builder’s reply to the question “What are you doing?” Asking the elderly man, whose body carried the weariness of many years of backbreaking labour, the questioner was expecting an answer that reflected the slowness of progress and the man’s small role in the process. After all, even his great-grandchildren would not see the completion of the cathedral.
This story lives on because of the wise man’s answer. We are told his face lit up with joy as he replied: “I am building a great cathedral.” He noted that it would honour God and give future generations a place to worship. He was not depleted, dejected or discouraged. His whole being radiated with satisfaction; his efforts were part of the building process. He knew his work would live on, long after he had gone home to God.
In our own way, each of us is building something that will live on after we are gone. Our efforts are part of building the Kingdom of God; the kingdom of which Jesus often spoke. The kingdom toward which his whole life was oriented. In Jesus, we see a template from which we might build our lives. We construct not only our present lives; we are also creating the future. However small our part seems to be, however ineffective our efforts sometimes seem to appear, they are part of kingdom building.
Today, on this Labour Day holiday, we take a rest. We are encouraged to play, and to enjoy the last long weekend before the summer holiday season comes to a close. The school year will begin anew. The pace of life often speeds up. The tasks that were “set aside for the summer” are awaiting our renewed efforts.
Excited as we might be about the projects and tasks that are before us, we also know there will be times when we will become weary and worn out. Jesus did not miss that reality. He offers gentle, kind, healing words. They need to be part of the foundation of our lives.
Come to Me, all you who labour and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy and my burden light.
Matthew 11.28-30
We set down our heavy burdens. We rest. We remember that we are not alone. Our hearts become a little more free. Mysteriously, the burdens feel lighter.
Sacred rest. Abundant grace.
Brenda Merk Hildebrand has a deep passion for lifelong learning, education, and spiritual and palliative care. She appreciates the opportunities that have come her way to share life’s transforming journey with others: one-with-one, through intentional group settings, in animating workshops and retreats, and by way of her writing. Brenda is a long-time contributor to Living with Christ.
