Blue Collar Spirituality Part 2

I remember a summer job I got in high school. I was hired by this rich older man to valet park for his special party. He even made me wear this outfit while I was doing it. I remember parking the Mercedes and Range Rovers and thinking to myself that I was forever disqualified from owning such a piece of machinery. Now that I looked back I thought nothing of it at the time but how I was really making some unhealthy agreements with myself. I look back and feel ashamed about that time. I had no one else to tell me otherwise.

Most of that time has so much to do with Luke 15. The story of the prodigal son. The younger son is rebelous, squanders his daddys money is let back into family. The message for me. Go get crazy and it will be ok. No consequesnces. And that’s what I saw from my rich white collar friends. They’d go out and party, get crazy, enjoy themselves, and still have the silver spoon in their mouths. Theyd still win.

Where me on the other hand, would try to do everything right. Try to walk the straight line. Try to keep my nose clean. And what did I get for that? More hard work, and less recognition. Less fun.

I grew up in a small Baptist church in a town of about 500. It was a startchy spirituality filled with fear and rules. And with my pleasing brokenness was a perfect fit. If I could get it all right, be everyones hero, I might just have a chance at being recognized. It was definitely a very strong community. Loyalty would be the one word I could use to describe it. Our town was so small everyone knew each other. We never locked our doors growing up. Which was good when you needed help but you also had a lot of eyes on you, watching your actions, good and bad.

I often wonder what they really thought of us blue collar people.

With my upbringing also came with a certain sprit of poverty. Often a life of resignation. “this is my lot”. And some of that was good. It made me resourceful with what I had. If you didn’t have something you built it with what you had, you didn’t go out and just buy it. You looked around to see what you had and that was your starting point. It has made me somewhat of a pack rat though. It makes you keep everything. You never know when it will come in handy. I think about my dads garage. Full of stuff. You never know when you’ll need that extra bed frame?! My wife hates it. You buy things used not new. Self care really isn’t an option. You work your ass off. You eat a lot of food that’s probably not the best for you. I can remember breakfasts at my grandparents’ house. Delicious but filled with so much fat and grease. Great for the body. You rest little. You might smoke or chew or dip, or maybe all three. Oh, and you drink a lot of beer. Times of reflection or tending to your own heart and emotions are nonexistent.

You can see why this attitude prevails. If you exist with a theology that revolves around how you are a sinner first and Gods child second, wouldn’t you always think you deserve very little?

I just got finished watching a DVD called “the everlasting stream”. It is taken from a book written by Walt Harrington, a journalist from Washington DC. It is his journey from the big city to the farms of in-laws in Kentucky rabbit hunting. He is ambushed by what he calls “blue collar nobility”. It is an amazing story of self discovery. His book manly focuses on four main characters. Four old black men. They have known each other for decades, some since they were kids. Walt is amazed by their since of loyalty and camaraderie.

Blue Collar folk are faithful and committed. Sometimes to their own fault. Most of the relationships you find in the country have been around for ages. Along with that is their connection to family. In Loudoun if people don’t know me they know my father. It means something to introduce myself as Earl’s boy. It carries some weight. My dad’s faithfulness is expected of me.