Jesus, Felix and me

A very long time ago, at least for me it was, I worked two summers in a steel fabricating plant.

The work was desultory but honest.

As a 1970s-era college student needing employment in the summer, I labored alongside much older men who clearly were bored by their work.

The job paid them well enough, though, so no one gave any thought of quitting.

I remember two names from Pittsburgh Des Moines Steel Company, a business concern now long defunct: Felix, the heavily muscled supervisor who never left the shop and who managed the crew; and Shorty, a mostly quiet jack-of-all-trades who was extraordinarily sensitive about his hair loss.

Shorty came to work in a ball cap each morning and with one fluid moment, slid a hard hat onto his head so that no one would see his baldness.

But we all knew he was follicly challenged.

One day, the college kids, of which I was a member, were assigned a task and given instructions on how to perform it.

Convinced there was a better way, I went to Felix and proposed an alternative.

He listened for about 15 seconds, in my recollection.

"Why are you making trouble?" he shouted.

"Go do your job!" Felix demanded, adding a few choice words not suitable for a general circulation newspaper.

A lot of years have passed, and I've been on both sides.

I've been a manager and I've been managed.

When you're in the latter state, experience teaches that no one in authority really wants to hear your ideas.

I learned this in my teens and now, as a mostly grizzled man in my early sixties, I'm persuaded little has changed.

After the memorable encounter with Felix, I mainly stopped offering ideas to any of the managers I've had along the journey of life.

On the rare occasions when I've veered from that philosophy, I have felt foolish afterward.

In the faces of those managers, many of whose names I've now forgotten, I saw Felix's sneer.

"Go do your job."

To be completely transparent, I've had a few occasions in the past when I became Felix to the people with whose charge I was entrusted.

"Can we meet about this, Jeff?

"No, we don't need to meet. Everyone just needs to do their jobs."

I actually said those words.

In that moment, this author became Felix.

Maybe it is the circle of life and inevitable for this to happen.

Whatever the case, today I yield to higher authority, keep my head down and do what I'm told.

Was Jesus different?

In a sense, Jesus of Nazareth was not only the incarnate of God, not only the suffering servant, not only the Savior.

He was also a manager.

He had 12 disciples who looked to him for leadership.

One of the things I appreciate about the New Testament, a subject which I've had the privilege of teaching for most of the past decade at Southeast Missouri State, is how true to life are the situations described there.

Being shown up

Peter once upbraided the Master, taking Him aside after the latter told the disciples his fate was to suffer and die.

"This must never happen to you!" Peter challenged.

"Get thee behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me. You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns." was Jesus' reply. (Matthew 16:22-23)

I hear a faint echo of Felix. Rightly so, I might add.

Being misunderstood

After the Master fed a multitude of 4,000 hungry souls by multiplying loaves and fishes, Jesus' disciples later were fretting because they had not brought enough food with them on the boat.

"Don't you remember anything at all? Do you have eyes but fail to see and ears but fail to hear?" (Mark 8:12-18)

I think Felix just gave us a wink there.

Being pressured

At the occasion of the wedding at Cana, Jesus' mother, aware of His abilities, knew a certain intoxicating lubricant was exhausted and that guests would be unhappy.

Mary went to her son with the problem.

"They have no more wine," she said.

"Woman, what is that to me? My time has not yet come," Jesus replied, perhaps lacking the appropriate deference normally accorded to the one who gave Him birth. (John 2:3-4)

Felix now has a big, wide smile on his face.

The difference

I have no real quarrel with Felix, with whom I last spoke more than 40 years ago and who almost certainly has now gone to his reward.

My father knew him and thought the shop manager was a stand-up guy.

I thought so as well but quickly realized anything seeming to challenge Felix's authority would be unwelcome.

In this, Jesus was seemingly the same.

I have dealt with Felix and have been Felix, as the aforementioned has detailed.

There are some faint echoes of Felix in the life of Jesus, as recorded in the Gospels and enumerated clumsily above.

Where Jesus parts company with Felix, with me, with anyone who has ever held a position of authority regarding others is this:

Jesus is the only one who willingly gave up His life -- for me, for Felix, for you.

Jesus is the manager from whom I'd willingly accept a dressing-down without any side comments or resentment because I know about His finished work on the cross.

"Get back to work, Jeff!"

"Yes, Jesus, right away, sir!"