Do people work that they might play or play that they might work? Do they toil to accumulate the wherewithal for vacation, or do they vacation to recharge their batteries for the work set before them? Which is the priority? A cursory look at the Fourth Commandment suggests that work is central; one labors for six days and rests on the seventh. This is not a grim description of the human condition but a biblical norm, an ideal if you will.

If that is so, then something may be amiss in Europe. Consider this word from the August 9, 2003, issue of The Economist:1

The United States may have a beefier economy, better universities, a more potent popular culture and an incomparably mightier military, but Europeans are quietly confident that they have the edge in one crucial respect. They enjoy longer holidays.

The piece went on to say that most Americans used only 14 of their 16 vacation days per year. In contrast, the Italians enjoy 42 days per year, the French 37, the Germans 35, and the Brits 28.

Add these figures to weekend days (about 100 per year), and one has a new, depleted “commandment”: “Four days shalt thou labor . . .” Of course, one does not have to work at his main job to be working at something (e.g., home maintenance; coaching a youth team), and the Decalogue’s Old Testament context was dotted with holy festivals, times of extended rest and recreation. Still, it seems that regarding work hours something is awry on the Continent.

For one thing, vacation (a cognate of “vacant”) has replaced holiday (from “holy day”). The emphasis falls now upon freedom, not upon spiritual reorientation and refreshment. The purpose of spiritual renewal? To tackle afresh one’s service “as unto the Lord.” But without this sense of holy calling, one’s job seems just a necessary evil.

In his classic work The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, Max Weber argued that Calvinists, Lutherans, and the cultures they shaped were keen on living consecrated lives, lives exhibiting the marks of regeneration. These Protestants had little use for the sacred/secular distinction—even shop men and homemakers had holy vocations. They understood the principle of deferred pleasure, so savings and the accumulation of capital were normal. They believed that shirking their work was an affront to the Lord who gave them these tasks. They might even pass up some of their vacation days. (Of course, many Americans work themselves to death for materialistic reasons, and their vacations are increasingly hedonistic.)

In Moby Dick, Herman Melville addressed the varying needs for rest among workmen. Before the whalers figured this out, the poor harpooner would have to row along with the others in the pursuit boat. But by the time they reached the whale, he was exhausted and ill-equipped to spear the beast with accuracy and strength. They finally decided he should ride while the others rowed so that when the time came, he could do his job with good effect. Rest though he did, it was rest as a means and not as an end in itself. Unfortunately, many have lost this sense of purpose in their rest. By their standard, the more rest the merrier. But for the God-called servant, there is nothing particularly merry in excessive rest. After all, there is God-given work to do.2
article adopted from Kairos Journal

First Baptist Church of Perryville is located at 4800 W. Pulaski Hwy., Perryville, MD