Really, Tears at Work?

I am of a theological mind that work was given to us by God as a gift. Work is not originally toil. We were invited, from the outset of creation, to till and to work the land. We were invited to name the animals in the fields. Indeed, God made work of life in the first six days, and then God invited rest. Work is not an origination of Genesis 3 but Genesis 1 and 2; work is part of what is good. But like anything and everything, the mark of sin has tainted what was given to us as good. Today, I experienced the goodness of work. 

I love what I do, where I do it, and who I get to work with. Western Theological Seminary is part of God’s good gift to the world, yet like anything and everything has been tainted by sin; this is true of the institution and its processes, as well as its people. Even so, the mission of WTS is Christ-centered, and I am all the more aware today that the many people who make up the WTS workforce are equally so centered.

I started sabbatical five days ago. I am supposed to be working toward my agenda for sabbatical, which includes recollecting on the past six years, preparing for the Camino, and organizing notes for a writing project. I am released from teaching and administration  Yet, I find myself entering the office each day to finish something, connect with someone, or retrieve a book or file. I am compelled to be in the office and near colleagues. This is good. But like anything, my compulsion to enter the office space is marked, also. I cannot but think of Merton’s words on detachment, 

“How many there are who are in a worse state still: they never even get as far as contemplation because they are attached to activities and enterprises that seem to them to be important. Blinded by their desire for ceaseless motion, for a constant sense of achievement, famished with a crude hunger for results, for visible and tangible success, they work themselves into a state in which they cannot believe that they are pleasing God unless they are busy with a dozen jobs at the same. In the words of a good friend, “I resemble that comment.” (Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, 203)

Work-life is a complicated practice. Even so, I began to leave the office at 2pm today. I went to a few offices to say goodbye; with some, I exchanged handshakes or distant waves, others high-fives, and with a few, I said goodbye through an embrace. 

Then I began my trek out the building by way of the West Staircase. I took my first steps upward and a mystical moisture began seeping from my eyes. I wandered alone and wondered out loud, "Am I crying? Am I sad?" I began laughing as I felt the mourning. Sadness and happiness trickled down my cheeks. This is good. 

I am not always so emotionally connected to the workplace. There are days I find myself phoning it in; other days, where I enter determined to conquer the task list, and others days where I am a nimble participant in collaborative projects and committee work.  And then there are days when frustration rises, cynicism and sarcasm bemoan, and second-guessing seems first nature. It is an organization and I am a person.

But today work was beautiful. As I left the building, names flooded my consciousness. I could see the many faces of current and former bosses and mentors, staff and faculty colleagues, and six years of students. The deluge came with joy and gratitude for many, and with longings for reconciliation for some; none came with disdain. I could sense in my tears a loving and longing for what I am temporarily leaving. I am reminded of the words of a great poet:

Ah, my dear angry Lord,

Since thou dost love, yet strike;

Cast down, yet help afford;

Surely I will do the like.

I will complain, yet praise;

I will bewail, approve;

And all my sour-sweet days

I will lament and love.

~George Herbert

Today, I mourned. It was a sign - work is good. It is my hope and prayer that the next months will give rise to recollecting, to laughing and weeping, to bewailing and approving. Yet I hope most of the work is loving.

I am sure this will not be my last post on work, and I am curious to see how work finds its place in my steps on the Camino. My prayer is that over the next 40 days I will recall work, and through all of the thoughts and feelings, the laughter and the tears, even the outrage, I will return from sabbatical with a countenance of gratitude seeking to offer my life to WTS in order to fuse calling with daily life. May it be so.