Dancing on the Table Tops!!!

Okay, so the feet in the picture aren't on a tabletop, but this was the best I could come up with. You'll get the reference to table tops a little farther down.

I am writing this on Labor Day, a day that celebrates the working people in our country (strangely enough, Canada also celebrates it the same time we do) so I thought a little nod to the blessing of work would be in order.

Many people have the idea that work is part of the curse received in the Garden of Eden. Ding, ding, ding! Wrong, wrong, wrong! Way before Adam 's actions doomed us to a life of sin and hardship, God set him in the Garden of Eden and told him to subdue the earth (Genesis 1:28) and to dress (tend) and keep the garden of Eden (Genesis 2:15). What does this mean?

Well, as Dr. H. C. Leupold, a prolific writer of biblical commentaries, put it, "The ideal state of sinless man is not one of indolence without responsibility. Work and duty belong to the perfect state." In other words, people, God made us to work. Work isn't supposed to be a punishment, it's supposed to fulfill us and help us work out God's perfect will for our lives here on earth. Now, the other end of the scale, which would be not working, is a whole other kettle of fish.

Muchos years ago, a high school friend and I were enthralled by the mysticism we saw in mathematical axioms, so we decided to come up with one of our own: the relevancy of time is directly proportional to the degree of involvement. If you love what you're doing, time flies. If you absolutely do NOT like what you're doing, the clock can't tick fast enough. To this day I think it's a pretty good axiom for a pair of sophomores to come up with.

Today I would like to pose another: the intrinsic satisfaction of one's work is directly proportional to the degree of effort one puts into it. I visited a frail little lady, Mrs. Salmon, at her humble home once. She and her husband had come to Brownsville, Texas, as missionaries in the area of helps to the mission for Hispanics their home church in Wisconsin had founded. Her husband had gone on to his reward, but sweet Mrs. Salmon kept on plugging along by herself. "Some might think this is silly, " she told my friend and me as we sat in her miniscule living room, "but I consider my Sunday School class my hobby, if you will. All week long I study my lesson and think of ways to present it." I had sat in Mrs. Salmon's Sunday School class and remembered her fascinating flannelgraph stories. I will never forget how she made the Acts 1 story of Jesus going up to heaven come alive by her having him "magically" float up to the sky. I'm pretty sure she either used a near invisible thread or a magnet to get that effect, but the story is seared into my memory--and isn't that part of the point of Sunday School lessons?

I have never forgotten that visit. In fact, I have taken it to heart and incorporated what I learned from it into every Sunday School lesson, Bible school class, and public school class I have ever taught. And I have found that the more I prepare, the greater the results. Attention span, teacher confidence, discipline, and don't forget learning, are all enhanced by the degree of preparation. Sad to say, but I have a mucho sad story to share that shows what not preparing, what not giving your all, can result in.

In a school district far far away (I definitely do NOT want to share the name of the district just in case the teacher in question reads this, I would never want to hurt her) worked a teacher who, in a word, seemed not to like teaching. She came in late, did not prepare lessons (those of us who had to go in to care for her class when for some reason she was unable to show up for work were never able to find any), and in many other ways presented an "I really don't care attitude ." There came a day when she either quit or her contract was not renewed (I don't know which, for although the principal frequently breathed dire warnings, for years nothing seemed to happen). Before that day came, however, anyone who walked down the hall in front of her room often heard pandemonium. One day the noise was SO bad that a colleague and I who were walking down the hall felt obligated to step into the room to quiet the children. The teacher, as happened frequently, was MIA, and, I kid you not--the children were dancing on the tables! We were able to establish a little order and call for help from the office, yet my friend and I walked away traumatized. Dancing? On the tables? Despite all the lackadaisical attitude from our missing colleague towards her work, we didn't see this coming. It was a little too much, if you get my drift. And as I pondered this awful development, I couldn't help thinking how this contrasted with dear Mrs. Salmon, who worked all week long on her lesson to make it the best it could be. Apparently when one doesn't prepare diligently, one gets dancing on the tables!

So, dear ones, as we celebrate, each in our unique way, this day that honors workers, let us determine to be the best workers we can be! As Spurgeon said, "The world does not read the Bible, the world reads Christians!" How we approach our work and do it is a testimony to the world. Are we going to show them good work or bad work? Work that says, "Christians do a good job!" or haphazard work that reflects poorly on those called by the name of our Savior?

And in giving it our all, we will reap the benefit of a heart fulfilled. There is nothing more satisfying than having performed a job to the best of our ability. Why? Because our Creator made us to work. It is not a curse--it is an extension of the wonderful things He has planned for us to do in this life to glorify Him and carries with it intrinsic joy.

We want to be among those to whom the Lord will say, "Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord" (Matthew 25:23).