Labor Dei

Offering our labors to God to become saints

09/07/2020

Luke 6:6-11 On a certain sabbath Jesus went into the synagogue and taught, and there was a man there whose right hand was withered. The scribes and the Pharisees watched him closely to see if he would cure on the sabbath so that they might discover a reason to accuse him. But he realized their intentions and said to the man with the withered hand, “Come up and stand before us.” And he rose and stood there. Then Jesus said to them, “I ask you, is it lawful to do good on the sabbath rather than to do evil, to save life rather than to destroy it?” Looking around at them all, he then said to him, “Stretch out your hand.” He did so and his hand was restored. But they became enraged and discussed together what they might do to Jesus.

Today is Labor Day in the United States. But do you know what the Latin word for “labor” or “work” is? It’s “opus.” Think of Beethoven or Mozart’s many symphonies referred to as “opus,” like Beethoven’s Opus #9. Their labor as a musician and composer is called their “opus.” Well, in 1931 a priest in Madrid, Spain was inspired by God to transfer this term “opus” from the secular realm to the sacred, to take it off the street and bring it into the church.

His name was “Fr. Josemaria Escriva” and the movement – actually the technical, canonical term is called a personal prelature – he launched was called “Opus Dei,” meaning the work of God. Opus Dei is a way of life where we transform our daily symphonies, our daily work to try to make beautiful music, and offer it to God. So, our own little “opus #9” becomes an Opus Dei, a work of God, or God’s work. Or, more precisely, God’s grace working through us.

Today on Labor Day we take a break from our daily labors, and so it’s an ideal day to reflect on why we should labor at all. What is the purpose of our toil and sweat and creativity and striving to succeed? It is just to make more money? It is only to be successful and beat all our competitors? It is just to leave a legacy and a huge inheritance for our kids? Is it just to make the world a better place?

Or, could there be a deeper dimension, indeed a divine dimension, to our labor, our daily opus? St. Josemaria Escriva answered emphatically, “Yes!” And that deeper divine dimension of labor is discovered when we offer our labor to God. We still work as hard, and smart and efficiently as possible, but our motivation becomes our faith. We work to please God, not to please (or impress) our neighbors. I am not just writing these homilies for you.

The remarkable insight of St. Josemaria – he was canonized a saint on October 6, 2002 – is that our labor doesn’t have to be a famous symphony to please God. Any and all honest work is acceptable to our loving Father in heaven. Think of when your little 3 year-old paints a picture but it’s just a stick figure and gives it to you as a gift, and you accept it with admiration and use it to adorn your refrigerator. So, too, our heavenly Father accepts all our work, our labor, our daily opus, but much more tenderly and lovingly. Maybe God adorns his heavenly refrigerator with all our “opus dei.”

In 2006 Scott Hahn revealed that he belonged to this movement called Opus Dei by writing a book about it called Ordinary Work, Extraordinary Grace. He described Opus Dei saying: “Opus Dei is a way of sanctification in daily work and in the fulfillment of the Christian’s ordinary duties.” In other words, the way to become a saint was to go to work every day – to the factory, to your office, to your chicken farm, to your restaurant, to your university – and see your work as your "altar" where you offer your sacrifice to God, your daily opus.

And because everyone has to work, therefore, everyone can become a saint. That is, the deepest dimension of work, labor, is to become a saint. One of my favorite bible verses is John 5:17, where Jesus declares: “My Father is at work until now, so I am at work.” Jesus was not only indicating that he had a certain work to complete (our salvation), but he was also suggesting that if we are going to be like him, we too have work to do. And our ordinary work can become our daily opus, an opus dei, a work of God, if we do it with the desire to offer it to God.

Labor Day traditionally marks the end of summer and the beginning of the fall, and returning to school, and returning to work in the fall harvest. Maybe Labor Day gives us a moment to recall why we work in the first place: to offer something pleasing to God, like a little child who paints a stick-figure picture for his or her father. Scott Hahn wrote: “Our altar is our desktop, our workstation, the row we hoe, the ditch we dig, the diaper we change, the pot we stir, the bed we share with our spouse.” When we do all these activities for the glory of God we have found own our Beethoven’s Opus #9.

Praised be Jesus Christ!