The company I work for is impressive. The average tenure is over 20 years; every month we celebrate someone who has been with the company for over 35 years, sometimes for over 40. They value their employees, treat us well, and go the extra mile to look out for our welfare.
So it was a shock when four of them were let go, two days ago. Two of the four were outstanding performers; all of them were over the retirement age, and will have significant trouble finding other full-time work.
Oh, I know why they were let go. Our department is combining with another, and "their positions were eliminated." Which means that, right before Christmas, each lady lost her source of income. Which means that all the work they had poured into this company was suddenly dismissed.
The thing that reoccurs in my memory, painfully, is my own unintentional cruelty. Mary, who takes care of restocking everything in our department, had been gone the entire week before on vacation. As she was stooping over the printer, refilling it to the brim, but not over, I passed by and said "You do that so much better than we do; we really missed you while you were gone." A few hours later, she was gone permanently. Oh yes, we missed her. Yes, she did a wonderful job. And we let her go anyway.
Logistically, it made sense. My head knows without a doubt that capitalism works better than any system I have seen. There is no other system that works in a broken world, because capitalism is ruthless, efficient, and motivating for those who desire things--which is all of us. In capitalism those who have talent, intelligence, energy, and dedication are rewarded for their work, more often than not. And when the "not" comes into play, there is a reason that common sense understands.
But that isn't how grace works. And I love grace, more and more, as time goes by, because I need it so much. In God's world, a person who is slow, clumsy, or whose intelligence does not shine is worth just as much as the one who sparkles or burns bright. There is no one treasured by grace, no child of God, who is let go. Every single one has a place! I have grown accustomed to a world where people are the treasures, and success is measured by God's delight--and God's delight is not dependent on skill, but on Christ's blood and righteousness. And that is given to all of us in overflowing measure.
So I pray for four people who now do not have jobs, who have woken up for the second morning after the world changed on them, and I struggle to believe that God, who orders my steps, will also order theirs. Grace does not falter when the broken world is unfair.
