i don't want the Father; i want a vending machine

I was thankful to be back in my South Bend stomping grounds this past Saturday. My co-worker and I had this exchange...

BETH: Be honest -- who do you like better, us or Nappanee?

ANTHONY: I'm glad to be back here.

[Anthony cleans the pieces of the espresso machine.]

ANTHONY: For example, I began taking apart the portafilters the other night, and they looked at me like I was crazy.

BETH: I clean those every night.

ANTHONY: Right! They said, "We never do that." I looked at them like they were crazy and showed them the grimy mess on the inside. They said, "Yeah, that's gross." I told them it wouldn't be if they cleaned it every night like they should.

BETH: They're going to hate you working over there.

ANTHONY: I know.

I'm working through my issues (no pun intended), but my greatest workplace frustration is being treated like a model employee for doing the job as written. The way I look at it, my employer is paying me for a service rendered, same as the customer/client is paying my employer for a service rendered. If the customer/client ceased to receive the service, they would stop paying my employer. Why do others assume that doing a sufficient job is anything more than earning the wage I've been offered for my service?

This past winter, I received Employee of the Month three times in four months. I tried to convince my supervisor to stop nominating me, because I feared that others would hate me... again for doing the job I'm being paid to do. The way she looked at it, I was going above and beyond. The way I looked at it, I was doing the expressed minimum and everyone else was doing less.

Likewise, if they had ceased paying me, I would not have placed any effort into the job. That's what makes it a wage: I receive it for something I have done. I couldn't in good conscience receive that wage without providing the service, but I was justified in receiving the wage when I did, because they had offered it.

Here's where my justification turns sour:

Michael shared a word with Byron and I yesterday, and I didn't like the implications. At first, I didn't like it because it condemned me. Like most people, I don't care to be condemned. Once condemned, I didn't like it because it demonstrated how awful I treat my Heavenly Father.

Now to the one who works, his wage is not credited as a favor, but as what is due. But to the one who does not work, but believes in Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is credited as righteousness, just as David also speaks of the blessing on the man to whom God credits righteousness apart from works:

“Blessed are those whose lawless deeds have been forgiven, and whose sins have been covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the LORD will not take into account.” (Romans 4:4-8)

To the one who works...

It's scary to consider that I perceive the LORD's blessings as what is due. I long ago stopped trying to buy my Father's love, but I see where I've rendered the same transaction for other things I want. Respect, credibility, the "right" to a family? I've tried to purchase them from God's menu. Sure, I've taken no pride or accolades in my acts of obedience, but rather treat them as services rendered, earning my wage from the One that signs the checks.

Like a paycheck I bring home to pay the mortgage, there's no joy attached. I perceive it as doing what I have to do to get where I want to go.

It makes me sick to my stomach. How can I love Him and throw down quarters like He owes me a bag of chips?

The most beautiful component of the Christian faith -- the very thing that makes every other religion insufficient -- is that our faith is credited as righteousness. God blesses me despite the fact that my works are as filthy rags. Blessings are not gifts you give an employee; they are joyful offerings for one that you love.

I thought about that. This past evening reiterated how much I enjoy serving a Godly heart -- how it would suck if the recipient thought she had earned my favor by providing a service. It would break my heart. I would feel used.

Jesus, I don't want to earn a wage, whether death or righteousness. I want to live as one forgiven. I want to live as a son.