Jesus and I were having lunch, and got to talking about work.
“Perhaps it’s expressed a bit differently in corporate new-speak,” he said, “but I’ll translate it into plain English for you. ‘Here’s your cut of the profits, Peter, as we, your corporate masters, rake over the poor, paying them ten dollars a day while we make billions and destroy the planet.’”
“I like to believe we can have change from the inside.”
“Are you inside a Chinese factory, Peter? Are you inside the living hell our planet is going to be in 2200?”
I didn’t say anything.
“Here’s an example of how the technology you’re so proud of is used. Employees at UPS are monitored in their every movement by corporate headquarters. They jog with packages in their hands in order to satisfy their tyrannical masters. The owners of capital want to increase profits, no matter how miserable the lives of their wage slaves become.”
“The world is much richer under capitalism.”
“Rich in wealth as the capitalists define wealth. The costs of their tyranny aren’t included in the calculations. They choose to build hundred million dollar mansions as they allow the poor to starve, and then ask us to report to work for them Monday morning. By reporting to their office, you show that you condone that inhumanity.”
I looked at the ground. “What can I do? I can’t change the world all by myself.”
“Yes, you can, Peter.”
“How?”
“Just stop participating in the evil. Stop following the inhuman leaders and start following the human ones.”
“The inhuman leaders are the ones who pay my bills.”
“Give no thought to that.”
“How will I live?”
“You will live on the hope of a better world.”
“What will I eat?”
“When people see you starving, they will help you. You can rely on the mercy of others.”
“But others have no mercy!”
“That is why you must not ally yourselves with them.”
“But how will I live?”
“You must ask yourself that question every day, Peter. The answer today might not be the same as yesterday. It might be time to change, as my disciple Paul did on his way to Damascus. It might be time to—“
“To what?”
“Repent,” he said quietly.
I stared to sob. My God, he was right. If I were to spend the rest of my life repenting and helping the poor, it couldn’t possibly be enough to atone for the harm I have done by allying myself with our brutal capitalist masters. Even if I were to feed my flesh to lions, it would not be enough to atone for what my generation is doing to our culture and our planet.
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