“Wasn’t the lecture in practical theology excellent today,” said Brian.
“Honestly, I didn’t hear much,” admitted Jenny, “because a friend sent me an email asking my advice. She’s still in college and her parents don’t want her living off campus her senior year.” She glanced at the screen of her macbook and chuckled. “Oh wow. She just tweeted that the two people she loves most are the cheapest she’s ever known. Yikes.”
“I wondered why you were so occupied with the net in class.”
“Yeah, I used to worry about what the prof would think. But they know we have lives and can’t be working all the time. Anyway, all they see is a room full of students with laptops drinking coffee. I doubt they notice who is or is not paying attention.”
“Right,” said Brian. “But today he was really good. He talked about how there is no menial work and that all labor is holy to God. I find that encouraging since I’m having to work as a bellman at the Radisson this semester?”
“Wow! How do you find time?”
Brian shrugged to indicate that he wanted to accept his suffering gladly as a Christian witness and hoped that Jenny would notice how cheerfully he faced his martyrdom. “Sometimes it is difficult to fit in those fifteen hours a week. But most nights I get off early enough to catch a few of the guys at the pub before closing. And it’s nice to have some cash from tips for beer.”
Jenny nodded. “Plus it will help you when you’re a pastor,” she said. “It is good to be able to relate to menial workers in your congregation.”
“Totally,” agreed Brian.
A waitress came by to clean the table next to theirs. But of course she was invisible.