In the Beer Business
Our family was in the beer business. My grandfather founded the distributorship not too many
years after he came to this country from Transylvania. He and my grandmother (an astute
businesswoman long before the women’s liberation movement) worked side by side to build
what they always affectionately referred to as “The Shop.” When my father came home from
flying B-24s in World War II he joined the business. After college my uncle signed on, too. It
was the quintessential family business. My grandparents, father and uncle worked long hours.
When my brothers and cousins and I were old enough we’d spend summer breaks working at the
shop. The girls would work in the office and the boys would work in the warehouse or on the
trucks. We always said that Pabst Blue Ribbon put us through college.
Working in the beer business was excellent preparation for parish ministry. We learned to be adaptable and wear many hats. We learned never to take our market share for granted. We learned a lot about working with the public and, even though it was physically impossible to carry out some of the “suggestions” the occasional enraged bar tender might have, we learned to respect and appreciate our customers. Above all we saw in our grandparents and our fathers the effort and commitment needed to keep the business going.
Shirtsleeves to Shirtsleeves
My father had a favorite saying that he would share with us when we were checking the water and oil in the trucks or sweeping the offices on Saturdays. It was this: “Shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations.“ What it meant, he said, was that the founding generation had to work hard to establish any enterprise. Not only did they work in shirtsleeves and not business suits, but they had to roll up those shirtsleeves and be willing to get dirty if that’s what it took to get the job done. The potential threat to the business came when the first generation handed the well-established business to the second generation and the second generation forgot the hard work of the first. If the second generation became complacent, if the second generation expected the customers to come to them, if the second generation took their market share for granted, the business would fail and the third generation would be back in shirtsleeves rebuilding the company. Always work hard, my father told us, and we did.
Cycles of Complacency & Renewal
Throughout our long history the people of God have gone through similar cycles of pioneering, complacency and renewal—“shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves”: Israel before the Babylonian captivity, the early church just before the Decian persecution, the Western church before the Reformation. In all of these times the elect came to see their election as their due. That the settled and comfortable life in Israel or the Church would continue forever and ever. Thatthe status accorded to the cult would be high and that the culture would be deferential – or at least respectful.
When I travel around the synod and visit our congregations I often hear a lament from our people for the lost golden age of the church. Through a haze of nostalgia we remember when all of our Sunday School classrooms were full, the pews were packed, schools did not schedule events on Wednesday nights or Sunday mornings, the Luther League not only had a surplus of kids but a surplus of advisors, and we all sang from the real red hymnal. We remember when the Lutheran Church had status in this country, when the presidents of the LCA and the ALC would be invited to speak to the president of the USA. Those were the days!
It has been said that nostalgia is the abdication of memory. The church of our fond memories probably never existed the way we remember it. Yes, there was much that was good and strong and faithful about the church of the fifties and sixties, but that was the church for that time. We are called to be the church for today. To go back to the “good old days” is neither possible nor faithful. Our future is not our past.
Rolling up the Shirtsleeves
We are once again in our shirtsleeves. Will we roll them up and get to work or will nostalgia keep us tethered to the past? It is a frightening and exciting proposition, not without risk or discomfort. Walter Brueggemann in his commentary on First and Second Samuel writes that “a new beginning means a terrible ending of some other arrangements.” Do we dare enough for the gospel to step into that new beginning? I believe we can. Roll up your sleeves. We have work to do.
Peace,
Elizabeth A. Eaton
