Employee Appreciation Day
In today’s world, as Christians, we often feel that we are living in uniquely challenging times, marked by moral decline and persecution. However, the Church has always faced tremendous trials. Those who strive to live a Christian life may feel isolated, like a remnant standing firm in their faith. A remnant. Yet, this is a common experience across generations.
One of the early remnants was present in the primitive Christian Church, a time when the doctrines we now hold were not so clear. Around the year 300, the divinity of Jesus was a major point of confusion. While it was accepted that He performed miracles, rose from the dead, and offered salvation, His divine nature was under assault.
A significant figure from this period was Arius, a tall, eloquent man who preached that Jesus, while superhuman and God’s Son, did not share in God’s divine nature. In fact, I’ve told you about Arius before. A few years ago I spoke about the real Saint Nicholas, and how he punched Arius in the face during a famous church council. One of my favorite stories. But this Arius fella was the biggest problem to the Church throughout the 4th century, so don’t be surprised that you are hearing about him again.
Surprisingly, Arius’ view that Jesus was fully human but NOT fully divine, was accepted by 70 to 80% of believers at the time. In contrast, a minority, remnant, of 20 to 30% adhered to the longstanding belief that Jesus was both fully human and fully divine. And yet, they all called themselves Christians.
To counter the spread of Arianism, a man named Athanasius was elected as the bishop of Alexandria. Now, why am I telling you this? Because this morning, as I was praying for inspiration on what the hell to say to you today, I opened up TAN’s morning devotional email and saw that today is the feast day of Athanasius, one of my favorite saints. It was a little answer to my prayers, because Athanasius more than anything else, represents that remnant that I believe Good Will is in today’s world. I think it is important for Christians of all denominations to know how critical this man was in the early church.
So, back to my story of Athanasius. He was elected bishop of Alexandria. His mission was clear: to affirm and spread the belief that Jesus Christ was both human and divine. Athanasius represented this minority, the remnant, and traveled extensively as a missionary to preach this doctrine. However, his teachings made him a target, forcing him to often preach in secret due to the violent opposition from Arians.
One anecdote from his life makes me chuckle. One day armed guards were pursuing him down the Nile river. Now, the guards had heard Athanasius was nearby. But Athanasius was smart enough to stay off social media, so his digital footprint throughout the middle east was minimal. In other words, the armed guards didn’t necessarily know what he looked like.
As they rowed down the Nile, Athanasius simply pulled over on the side of the bank and awaited for the armed guards to pull up next to him. And he yelled, “You are very close to Athanasius now. Keep going!” And the guards rowed right on by.
Today, in my church, we honor Saint Athanasius, remembering him as the “Father of Orthodoxy” because without believing in the divinity of Christ, we simply have no Christianity.
This was such a contentious time, my friends, that people during the 4th century stopped referring to themselves as Christian. Why? Because when you said Christian, you didn’t even know whether you believed God became man or not. Believe it or not, people become known as either Arians or Athanasians. You, my friends, would be Athanasians. Nothing would infuriate and embarrass Athanasius more than this! But it was the case. So, eventually, Athanasians once again became known as Christains. And today, we are called Christians.
Reflecting on these historical challenges is vital today as we face our own cultural and moral battles. In our workplace at Good Will, and in companies like Chick-fil-A and Hobby Lobby, we strive to embody Christian values not just in what we sell—be it chicken sandwiches or crafts or little books into public schools—but in how we engage with our community and support our employees.
Good Will, in particular, has demonstrated this through our actions and support during times of loss. Recently, we mourned the passing of Joe Bentley, a long-time employee whose life and faith were celebrated in a service that felt like a family reunion and Good Will convention. His daughter Molly’s tribute exemplified the impact of a life well-lived in faith. And Good Will meant the world to him. I was humbled to see the importance of this company to him. I’ve seen this many times before, particularly at funerals of long-serving employees.
One need only think of the importance of Good Will in Doris McFee’s life. I miss her already. I already regret not asking her a thousand more questions about my own family, about her family, about the Good Will family. It is interesting, all the “Good Will Old Timers” to me are gone. In particular they included Hack, Lewis Holland, Doris, and my uncle Pat. They are all gone. There are others, for sure, but these are the ones that I think of as my old timers. My point, dear friends, is that Good Will meant the world to them.
Another poignant moment, all too recently, was the funeral of a little, precious, adorable Memphis. A loss, so profound, I cringe to think of it. But seeing how this company came together for Stephanie in faith and compassion is a testament to our company.
These examples highlight that Goodwill is more than a business. It is . . . I don’t know. A community? A refuge? A fellowship? I don’t know. It is special. It is rare. And in today’s broken world, it is a remnant.
As we navigate these trying times, let the spirit of Athanasius inspire us to be the remnant, steadfast in our faith that Jesus Christ is fully human and fully divine, and that his death and resurrection made our salvation possible. This is the reason for Joe Bentley’s salvation, Doris McFee’s salvation, and, yes, little Memphis’s salvation.
Thank you for all the work you do at Good Will.
God bless you.
Conor
