You were born into a mystery.
When you were born, you didn’t know you would be born into this. Neither did your parents. Nor did the rest of us.
When and where you were born, so long as you were born less than 200 years ago somewhere in the West, wouldn’t make any difference to the mystery you were born into. It would already have come before you, would already be shaping you in its image as you aged, and would continue to expand its presence long after you were stardust again.
Soon, if not already, it shall be as close to you as your own face. Not only shall you come to know it as well as you know your hands and your most intimate thoughts, but you may also, as others have done before you, begin to bless it, honor it, revere it. You were born into a very good thing, yes, a most sanctified thing whose goodness is beyond all question and which you may, in time, be willing to die for.
Families, states, markets, a civilization have rested and bet most everything they hold dear on it. Soon, before you know otherwise or any better, very soon might you come, even, to love it. The truth is you may have never known a time when you haven’t loved it and may never experience a time when you don’t.
The mystery of what you were born into is like the entire universe. It dwells not just in this place or in that one; not just in your great grandparents’ time or in that of your great grandchildren. It feels everywhere and everywhen: all around you, all within you, all through you, and us. It feels infinite and eternal.
You were born into this mystery. When you were born, you didn’t know you would be born into this. Neither did I. Nor did those who came before us. And yet, this mystery you and I and everyone around us have been born into actually has a name. Its name is Total Work.