Choirs and music might be the last things you would associate with the concept of justice. You show up, you sing, you try to make pretty music, and you go home. It’s a good evening if that’s something you love to do. But it is so much more than that. At least the way we do it here at Lord of Life, an ensemble that makes music together is like a microcosm of God’s kingdom of justice and peace.
Whether we’re talking about choir, the praise band, youth band, children’s choir, hand bells, or the multitude of musicians who offer their talents on special occasions, each person has an important part to play. The whole group is made better because of the talents and commitment each individual brings to the table. The diversity of the gifts and backgrounds of our musicians adds a richness and spirit to our ensembles that wouldn’t be there if everybody had the same education and grew up in the same neighborhood. And truly anyone can have a role – if someone wants to sing but has never sung before, they lean on the other singers to learn to match pitch, to blend their vowels, and to sing at the right time. And we all lovingly help them along without judging them.
All of these thoughts about music as an example of justice and equality were swirling through my head when I was downtown for Cincinnati’s Oktoberfest last weekend.
The threat of rain kept the largest part of the crowd away, but there were still several bands with fun music, stalwart wearers of lederhosen and feathered hats, and of course all the beer and German food you could possibly want. Operating in the midst of everyone, but going almost unnoticed, were the employees busily dragging around and emptying the large trash bins.
As I sat down to eat my $6 sauerkraut balls, I casually thought, “you couldn’t pay me enough to be one of those employees.” And it hit me right away just how much there was to unpack in that simple thought. If “you couldn’t pay me enough” to do that job, what is the right price for the job? The woman who caught my attention was pushing a can in front of her and pulling another behind her. She was certainly working hard and the work didn’t stop – there was always more garbage. I’m almost certain what she was being paid was not what I would have considered “enough”. Hard work wasn’t enough to make the job more valuable. Even if she was going out of her way to be a good employee, the best she could hope is that some manager noticed her and gave her a tiny raise at the end of the year.
If we aren’t willing to pay more for jobs that we wouldn’t do ourselves, what does that say about what we think of the people we expect to do them? Have we placed such a low value on certain people that it doesn’t bother us to pay them so little to do jobs we don’t want to do? I used my privilege and hard work to go to college so I could make a wage without doing a job I wouldn’t be happy doing. For some people, no matter how hard they work, they aren’t going to be able to afford a degree. Or other circumstances might prevent them from being able to go to school. Those doesn’t make the work they do less difficult or less valuable.
We certainly can’t change the way the economy works overnight. But we can be conscious of how we think about and treat people who are doing those jobs we don’t want to do ourselves. They are contributing to the fabric of society just like the rest of us are.