Photo Source: http://perseiden.blogspot.com/2011/06/ora-et-labora.html

Most of my days are spent listening to people, or preparing myself to listen. On a one to one basis, I prefer listening than speaking. Now there are notable exceptions to this, such as when I know someone is hurting, grieving or needing to be lifted out of wherever they may be psychologically, and I tend to speak when in front of large groups.

The point I am getting to is that most of my work is mental, verbal and relational. What I seldom do anymore – unfortunately – is manual labor.

St. Benedict, as we all know, had the rule of life Ora et labora, that is Pray and work. The work he typically espoused was manual labor which is a form of labor in which creation is renewed, the human person is expressed as being in the image of God the creator of all, and balance is struck within the individual.

My earlier years were filled with manual labor: in the fields for hours, in the barns tending to livestock, repairing old vehicles (the only kind I could afford), keeping ahead of the lawn, etc. There was almost a 50-50 balance in my life between working and learning/praying/thinking/planning.

It was a very human experience in every way.

Nowadays, I have to plan on manual labor. It doesn’t just present itself as frequently. The demands of career, family, and diaconate consume huge amounts of time and energy. Mind you, it is all very good but I assure you but those times that do come every so often when manual labor is needed are welcomed. They bring a different sort of experience of the world that is all to often forgotten.

To work with one’s hands is a noble endeavor. Those who do it every day to earn their way in life possess a dignity we all need to acknowledge. They possess a knowledge that is necessary for the human experience. Their doing is a witness to the incarnational aspects of our faith. May I say it is “manly” in the sense it is provisional, protective and productive?

Today, I wish to honor all those who have gone before me having worked with their hands…. the many men and women in generations past and those present around us.

God bless them all.

“Vocation of the deacon is to be a ‘confessor’ of the faith. He seeks to revive this ancient title in democratic modernity….. Central to the deacon/confessor’s anthropology is his self-awareness in Christ crucified…. a confessor is one who has been cast forth, handed over by God…. into the heart of danger like a lamb among wolves. The poor and outcast, not simply the altar, is his vocation. And at every curve and bend of that road he will find challenges and suffering. St. Paul would describe it as warfare. The deacon’s walk is an heroic one…the deacon will meet determined opposition and … extensive satanic counter struggle…the deacon discovers that persecution constitutes the normal condition of the Church in her relation to the world…. Only deacon/confessor.. can keep alive the sense of man and make the world a place where love is gently at work.”

www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cclergy/documents/rc_con_cclergy_doc_19022000_idf_en.html

St. Lawrence, deacon and martyr

All of this makes me think of an article I recently read on St. Lawrence, deacon and martyr of Rome, the deacon of Pope Sixtus II. You recall, Lawrence was martyred some three days after Sixtus, by being grilled on the gridiron. Lawrence’s diaconate was a call to martyrdom, in service to his bishop and the “treasures of the Church” whom he identified as the poor of his diocese. Lawrence is not officially called a confessor, yet in fact he was, and he serves as a model for diaconate ministry even today. His life as deacon vividly portrays all the Cardinal Stafford was saying some 12 years ago.

Deacons of the world, are we ready to be confessors of the faith? Even in the face of stiff opposition, even persecution and martyrdom? We in the United States, numerous though we are, have in many ways the easier task. Our brothers in areas of the world where martyrdom continues are daily called to confess the faith, even as St. Lawrence.