The Carpenter

Last week I finished a birthday present for my friend's 50th: I built an extension onto his backyard deck.  To those who know me well enough, this will come as a bit of a surprise, because I don't do construction.  In fact, I don't really do anything the project involved: being outside in the heat of summer, or mosquitoes, or manual labor of any kind, really.  My upbringing, education and career have all been in music - a somewhat more "genteel" enterprise.  I was raised by a generation of parents who hoped we would avoid a life of manual labor by going to school ("You don't want to dig ditches for a living, do you?").  I'll save the economic/political/social conversation about the value of labor for another time.... 

But one of the great things I learned through the experience - and perhaps the most valuable - is what the work felt like.  As I got up each morning, put on my jeans (to protect from bugs, even though it was way too hot), sprayed mosquito repellant all over myself, and headed out to the yard, I was reminded that this was the work done by Joseph and Jesus.  What's more, this is the kind of work done by most people in the world.  Most people don't play the piano and think about Mass - or write blogs - throughout their days.  Most people in the world work hard and pour sweat every day. 

One of my desires in prayer lately has been to live in greater solidarity with the poor, which is to live in greater solidarity with Jesus.  It can be a romantic notion, but once it's experienced it quickly becomes evident that being poor is difficult.  (Now the "poor" I'm referring to aren't the professional laborers who actually make more than I do!  The truly "poor" are the ones who have no choice in the matter.)  I've never actually been poor - I've always had everything I've needed, and just about everything I've wanted.  And I don't presume that a 5-day project for a friend in any way qualifies me to say I've experienced poverty.  If anything, it brings into greater relief the vast gulf between my frankly leisurely life and the exhausting, uncomfortable hardship of most of the world's population.

I guess the most conscious takeaway for me is a deeper respect for those who work hard every day in the grueling heat or other uncomfortable situations to support themselves or their families.  I have been issued a serious challenge to my childhood attitude that "those poor bastards should have gone to college."  It turns out those poor beloved children of God are bonded with Christ in a way that I will never be.