The lazy farmer boy’s problem was not merely his laziness. Folks who are by nature lazy can overcome it and achieve their aims; in fact, they can make their laziness an asset, transforming it into an enthusiasm for doing their work with a minimum of wasted effort. Similarly, an energetic nature is not by itself a ticket to success. We all know people who expend what looks to be superhuman amounts of time and energy on the work they’ve been given to do, while accomplishing little or nothing, or sometimes even undoing the good work of others—the hurrier they go, the behinder they get. The lazy farmer boy was not trained to be diligent, and therein lay the difficulty.
Diligence is not a matter of working hard; it is a matter of paying proper attention to a task, a commitment to taking what care is necessary to make a good job of it. The farmer boy saw weeding his corn field as work that was tedious, tiring, and in itself unsatisfying. We don’t know what he chose to do instead—perhaps he was chairing committee meetings down at the church—all we know is that he always found something else to do, something he decided was preferable. A boy with a diligent attitude, though, would have carefully considered the purpose of the weeding, in particular the blessings that would result from it—a bountiful harvest, a willing bride, a well-fed family—and decided that the eternal significance of paying careful attention to that job far outweighed his momentary distaste for it.
Diligence is in short supply these days. And since it takes diligence to train up diligent children, we continue to spiral downward. But breaking out of the spiral is not a simple matter of deciding to give our children what we never had. The reigning culture has saddled us with some false beliefs that will hinder us until they are repudiated.
The first is a gift to us from one of our favorite villains, Jean-Jacques Rosseau, the image of a child’s character as a garden. There is some value in this image, but unfortunately Rosseau was no agrarian; he imagined a garden that was self-cultivating, one that will produce a bountiful harvest if only it is left to its own devices. (Tell that to the lazy farmer boy!) A child now comes to us as a bundle of gifts which are to be identified and indulged, in hope that they might flourish and become useful for … well, something. If some vital character traits—thrift, honesty, fidelity, perseverance—do not blossom on their own, then just chalk it up to diversity, and assume that the traits that do thrive—say, an aptitude for computer gaming, or an extensive knowledge of 1960s television programs, or a knack for imitating inner-city thugs—will probably compensate for them.
This is obvious foolishness. A child’s character is not something that flourishes on its own, it is a thing that must be shaped and molded by loving parents, in preparation for fulfilling the godly task of forming and raising a family. Be grateful to God for the excellences of character that come easily to your children—but never use such to excuse their shortcomings, or to excuse your own laziness about training them in areas where the path to excellence will be long and difficult.
The second false belief was foisted on us by the industrial revolution. In earlier times, the purpose of labor was to produce a valuable commodity—a crop, a pair of shoes, a song. Even a hired man was valued for what he accomplished, not simply for the effort he expended. But factory work introduced a new view of labor, one where a worker’s effort is itself the commodity. The American union movement embraced this view, working only to make sure that laborers received top dollar for their soul. And so today we work not for God but for a living, not as a means of exercising dominion over creation but as a mechanism for fueling the engines of consumption our households have become. We’re happy to get a paycheck just for showing up and doing what we’re told to do. In fact, we think that we’re entitled to such an arrangement.
When such a belief is held, learning diligence is impossible—because diligence is pointless. There is no need for us to concern ourselves with how a task is performed, only with being sure we do what we are told; if our bosses are dissatisfied with the results, they will tell us what to do differently. Such an attitude may be sufficient for the slaves of men, but not for slaves of Christ, who are called to serve not as meat machines but as vice-regents of creation. Our children must be raised to rule, and be given the tools needed to rule properly—a diligent spirit chief among them.
The third false belief, rampant in this egalitarian age, is that no one bears responsibility for another’s fate, that each of us is individually and solely responsible for charting our course through life. Wanting to grow up to be just like mom or dad must be discouraged; the need to become one’s own person and do one’s own thing must be emphasized. Both sides are eager to embrace this canard, because it excuses children from the need to measure themselves against an external standard, and it excuses parents from the need to provide one.
This third belief is the most important to repudiate. Although useful work habits can be instilled by instruction and exhortation, diligence itself can only be instilled by example—and the student must be committed to imitating the example. If we hope to make any progress in these matters, we must teach our children from their earliest years that it is good and necessary to pattern themselves after their parents in all things. And then we must shoulder the responsibility that follows, to provide our children with a pattern that is good and necessary to emulate.
Fathers and mothers, be diligent to show yourselves diligent, so your children might learn from your example, and be well equipped for the work ahead.