Blue Collar Spirituality Part 1

Some of the best memories I have of my childhood revolve around this old 69 Chevy pick up my dad had. It was pea green with a white top. V8 of course. Bench seat with a cheap seat cover. The ignition was on on the actual dash. It came fully equipped am radio and 8 track radio under the seat. We took it everywhere. It was an amazing place for a young boy to grow up. It was strong and reliable. Especially with how my dad drove it. He drove that thing like a stock car.

I remember days we’d fill that thing with almost a full cord of locust firewood. Listen to John Denver on the 8 track. I’d have my big league chew and he’d have his Levi Garrett.

As I look back BMW, Range Rover, and Porsche, never entered my mind. All that mattered was that I was with my dad and his truck.

My dad grew up the son of a poor dairy farmer for the Navy. My dad, Sonny they called him, and his brother (woody), grew up working on the farm. Taking care of cattle in Maryland in the 50’s. Working with their hands. Neither went to college, Im not even sure it was on the radar for them. My dad went into the air force and later worked his whole life for the government. He just retired a few years ago after about 40 years of service.

I have thought long and heard about the lines of white collar and blue collar. What made my dad work so hard in his life? What made him work so hard and still in his 60’s working on getting rid of his mortgage?

I grew up in Loudoun County VA. In Loudoun the actual county when I was growing up was mostly split into two demographics. It was almost like an invisible line was split down the middle. Everything to the west was mostly farmers, mostly good old boys, with their pick up trucks and cows. Now everyone to the east was a little different. With Washington DC so close there was a little more money and development. More paved roads, more shops, more people. There was also a lot of old money. Horse plantations in the 1800’s left a lot of families with money.

And so in my high school parking lot it was not uncommon to see a tractor parked next to BMW . Its just the way it was. And for the most part the poor did not mingle with the rich. Or at least that’s how it felt.

At 34, I wonder if there was more assumption then I was aware of at the time. I think about what the blue collars assumed about the white collar and I also wonder about what the white collar assumed of the blue collar. I also think of the rift that it has created in the church. How maybe we haven’t risked crossing over these lines for the sake of the Kingdom.

From a blue collar perspective I can think of the assumptions I had of my white collar colleagues. They were rich, no problems, they wore all the clothes I wanted to. They had college paid for. They worked hard very little. They were prideful; they thought a lot of themselves. Unspiritual and uncommitted. And they only hung out with their kind. Their relationships were based on being connected to powerful (other rich) people. They were only concerned about two things: money and power. And they mostly came hand in hand.

And what they thought of us Blue Collar “folk”. Probably that we were uneducated, slow. Probably wondering when we would come over and mow their grass or shovel their driveway. They’d . Somehow they could never figure us out.