In the overall plan of
Divine Providence, it is the lot of most men to spend their lives
working for others. This is due partly to the sentence imposed by
God after the first sin: “In the sweat of thy face shalt thou
eat bread.” (Gen. 3:19) But it is also a situation resulting
from the very nature of things. Not all men can be in positions
of authority, for there would be no one for them to govern; nor
can all men be employers, for there would be no one to do their
work. Human life would be at a standstill.
When one’s place of employment is regarded as a temple: when
a man’s workbench or machine is for him an altar on which
he daily offers the sacrifice of works: when the tools of his work
are transformed into instruments of sacrifice to the most high God,
then the humdrum existence of the workingman becomes a rich source
of joyous inspiration.
There is a great deal of idealism dealt out in every plan proposed
for “Social Security.” I have never liked the name,
however. I like “Self Security” better. That is what
has made every successful man or woman, and every nation great.
Self-Reliance is a twin brother to it.
If every human being is assured, as soon as he reaches understanding,
that he is to be cared for from the cradle to the grave, and that
he has nothing to worry about, imagine what a race of dependents
this world would have! Those who first came to the Western world,
discovering, inventing, and sacrificing, had no other capital than
Self Security in mind—Self-Security for themselves, and because
of this individual independence, to pass on the example to their
children.
The weak, ill, and those who have unavoidably been misfortunate,
surely deserve all the security possible to comfort and care for
them throughout life—but not the able-bodied and the healthy.
They have the opportunity to gain Self-Security which should be
their pride, and the pride of every human being given his chance
in this world. It’s that chance that should be assured him
under a free form of government.
Food and comforts that are earned, through work, enter into the
very muscles, the brain, the heart, and every stream of blood that
courses through one’s veins. And the will to live and to be
useful inspires such a being with the love of life itself and all
its opportunities.
Take incentive away from a human being and you rob him of his greatest
asset. You dismantle his dreams. You cheat him out of the fun of
achievement. You feed him the substance of which idleness is composed.
You take the rudder of life from his sailing-craft.
It is so much easier to succeed than it is to fail—if a man
has pride in himself. But if you hand the tools of success to one,
without his having earned them, he is most apt to dull them into
uselessness long before he has learned to make them serve him and
his fellowman.
There is no heritage quite so precious as that of one who feels
in his heart that he has been born, not only to enjoy this beautiful
world, but so to work and live that he may bring happiness and pride
to everyone about him.
When the Church calls upon Christian workingmen to lift their eyes
and their hearts above the difficulties of their lot, her aim is
not to lull them into the sleep of indifference, nor to develop
in them a spirit of cold and dull patience. The stand of the Church
is solidly in favor of bettering the living and working conditions
of the laboring man. Thus, the Church insists on spiritualizing
man’s outlook on these problems. But this is because her only
purpose is to prevent him from defeating himself by recourse to
means that would assuredly defeat his purpose. Meekness and humility
of heart are fundamental requirements of the genuinely Christian
spirit. Acceptance of one’s station in life, and conformity
to the Will of God, are, so to speak, common currency in the life
of the Church. Acceptance of one’s humble lot and earnest
striving to better it are not incompatible. The man who first accepts
his state of life instead of fighting it in sullen bitterness is
the only man who can ever hope to better himself on his “human-Altar.”
Again, to repeat, when a place of employment is regarded as a temple
where wholehearted and faithful devotion to duty can give honor
to God: when a man’s workbench or machine is for him an altar
on which daily and cheerfully he offers a sacrifice of work and
humility: when the tools of his work are transformed into instruments
of sacrifice to the Most High God, then the humdrum existence of
the workingman becomes a rich source of joyous inspiration. In this
spirit many saints of the Church wielded their tools in their given
trades and workshops. In the light and strength of this same spirit,
the laborer of today can live and work for God just as truly as
those early saints did when God stood at their sides, and, so to
speak, handed them their tools.
Such is the transforming influence of religion. Communism derisively
calls religion “the opium of the people.” It forgets
that opium stupefies and has an effect like death. But religion
is certainly activity, it is life; it is spiritual vitality. Workingmen
without religion are hardly more than the tools and machines with
which they work: workingmen with religion bring a tremendous spiritual
energy to bear on ordinary existence, and give it and the world
around them new value.
The Son of God was a carpenter; St. Peter and his brethren were
fishermen; the Apostle of the Gentiles, St. Paul, was a tentmaker.
Hammers and saws, boats and nets, canvas and needles—all these
are little enough in themselves, but they were the tools wherewith
the Son of God and His followers supported themselves while carrying
out their divine mission. Every laboring man has a divine mission.
It is a mistake to regard humble employment only as a means of livelihood.
But when it is considered as a means of livelihood “for the
accomplishment of a higher purpose,” then labor and toil are
transformed. They become means of making man more like the Son of
God “Who bore all things for the sake of the elect.”
When man sees his own daily occupations placed side by side with
the great work of our Divine Saviour, he feels a close companionship
with the God-man. He grasps the great truth that the tools of his
own lowly employment upon his own “human-altar” could
be for him what the cross was for Christ: instruments of redemption
and sanctification for the entire world.