| The Glory of the Common Life |
Chapter 1 |
Page 5 |
There are certain lives which we are accustomed to look upon and think of with pity. Their condition is always one of suffering. One person is blind and helpless; another is crippled so as never to be able to leave her room; another is paralyzed and cannot use her hands or feet; another is a hopeless invalid. We pity these people, and think their case is forlorn. Yes; but nowhere do you find such trust, such patience, such shining as in their lives. The thorn bushes burn with fire and are not consumed.
Many people never have learned to see God in their everyday life. It seems to them their life is not worthy of them, that is splendour is lost in their commonplace tasks. In a little book published a few years since there was a story of a young minister visiting among his people. One day he called on an old shoemaker. He began to talk to the old man, and inadvertently spoke of his occupation as humble. The shoemaker was pained by the minister’s word.
“Do not call my occupation lowly; it is no more lowly than yours. When I stand before God in judgment, he will ask about my work, and will ask what kind of shoes I made down here, and then he will want me to show him a specimen. He will ask you what kind of sermons you preached to your people, and will have you show him one. And if my shoes are better than your sermons, then I shall have fuller approval than you will have.”
The old man was not hurt; he was only impressed with the honour of his own calling as God saw it. He was right, too. No occupation is in itself lowly – the commonest kind of work is radiant if it is done for God. We shall each be judged, indeed, by the way we have done the work of our profession, our trade, or our calling. What we do for Christ is glorious, however lowly it is in itself.
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