There is a story about a preacher who was driving past a pristine farm. The fields were beautifully cultivated and abundant with well-cared-for crops. The fences, house, and barn were neat, clean, and freshly painted. A row of fine trees led from the road to the house where there were shaded lawns and flower beds. It was a beautiful sight to behold.
When the farmer working in the field got to the end of the row near the road, the preacher stopped his car and called to him. "God sure blessed you with a beautiful farm." The farmer stopped, thought for a moment, and replied: "Yes, He has, and I am grateful. But you should have seen this place when He had it all to Himself."
The point of the preceding story is not God's limitation, but mankind's responsibility. Our Creator did not design the world complete. Instead, God graciously chose us to help finish the job.
In a sense, each one of us has been entrusted with a plot of ground. How we tend our lots of land through our words and deeds has a significant impact on whether our plots will be viewed as beautiful farms or barren wastelands.
But at the end of the day, the farm never really belonged to us. We were merely laborers in the Lord's vineyard with only a supporting hand in the act of creation. For example, none of us created our own existence, our innate abilities, or the many exceptional people who helped us plow, plant and till along the way.
All that we may call "our own," God has in some manner entrusted to us. "The earth is the Lord's, and everything in it" (1 Corinthians 10:26). We do not even own ourselves since we were bought at a price (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). Because God owns everything, we are our Creator's trustees and money managers.
Even though titles to financial accounts and other assets may be in our names for the time being, we still owe a fiduciary duty to the Maker of the Universe. Whether we are spending money for our daily bread, or making investments for our future wellbeing, at the end of the day, we must be mindful that our pursuit of money must be subordinate to the good of the human family and the greater glory of God.
As managers of God's marketplace we have not created capital on our own. Rather, we have benefited from the work of many others who have supported our endeavors. At best, each of us is only a junior partner in the act of creation, but never the Creator alone.
All the blessings the aforementioned farmer had — his ability to reason, to conceive of the possibilities for the farm, to move his limbs and work the land, and to receive the assistance provided by others — were created and conferred on him by God. Like the farmer, we can nurture and manage our abilities and talents, but God is the original source. So much of what we bring to the workplace is a gift from God, including our creative capacity.
This season of Lent offers us a special opportunity to reflect upon mankind's creative capacity as affirmed in the Last Supper during which Jesus presided over the Passover meal with His twelve closest friends. On the table, in accordance with Jewish tradition, would have been wine, lamb, matzos (unleavened bread), bitter herbs, greens, water, and salt among other things.
As Jesus finished his last meal with his dear companions, He decided to offer up a special and final blessing. Jesus had a number of items at His disposal and could have blessed whatever He wanted. But instead of choosing the lamb, bitter herbs, greens, water, or salt in their natural state, Jesus specifically chose to bless the bread and wine which we regularly celebrate as "work of human hands." Part of the significance of this blessing, where Jesus ultimately gives Himself back to us in the form of the Eucharist, is that Jesus affirms the creative capacity of mankind — God's greatest creation.
No matter how much we may do to write our own life's story, we will never be the author of life. In his commencement address at Yale University in 2001, President George W. Bush remarked: "When I left here, I didn't have much in the way of a life plan. I knew some people who thought they did. But it turned out that we were all in for ups and downs, most of them unexpected. Life takes its own turns, makes its own demands, writes its own story. And along the way, we start to realize we are not the author."
Rather, we are called to be God's junior partner as each chapter is written, and with a firm reliance upon the hand of divine Providence we seek to answer that call, believing that God will continue to guide His creation toward perfection. Protecting human life, promoting human dignity, defending those who are poor and seeking the common good are all ways that we are called to contribute to the world's sanctification as we tend our plot of ground. How inspiring, how awesome the responsibility, to know that our daily endeavors will forever shape God's farm.
