The Janitor

You couldn’t wait until you were old enough.
You would finally be the oldest ones in the school.
After years of waiting, you were now the ones in charge.
Not in charge of the teachers or the principal; rather over all the younger students.

It was the privilege of an eighth grader.
Only an eighth grader could be a safety.
A safety got to wear a badge on their upper arm.
A safety was assigned a post that he or she was in charge of.

You could be a bus safety.
You could be a hallway safety.
You could be a safety at the outdoor entrances.
You could be a safety at dismissal time.

The one post that no one seemed to want was outside the bathrooms.
Particularly the boys’ bathroom.
Since we were all on rotation, it was inevitable that you would eventually get that post.
It was not the best place to be; in reality neither bathroom post was ideal.

There were obvious reasons why no one wanted to be posted there.
But I remember the metal bucket.
I remember the sawdust.
I remember the kind janitor that had to take care of the many mishaps throughout the day.

Put many children together and there will be colds and coughs.
Viruses seemed to spread like wildfire.
It was always a fear to get sick at school.
Little children do not always make it to the bathroom in time.

Whenever that happened, the faithful janitor would come with his metal bucket.
He would sprinkle sawdust over the smelly mess on the floor.
Everyone held their noses; some children giggled.
Others were just glad it wasn’t them that got sick in school.

Remembering the scene, I don’t know if the sawdust helped or made things worse.
The sawdust looked disgusting.
The combination of smells was beyond description.
I often wondered why sawdust was put down to begin with.

It must have had something to do with absorption.
it must have made the cleanup a bit easier for the man who cleaned up our messes.
It must have made the spot on the floor more noticeable so that no one would step in it.
It must have masked the scent a bit.

What a blessing the janitor was to all of us.
He had his own office, which was really a small space in the utility closet.
A small desk, one chair, and all the equipment he would need to keep the school clean.
Everything about that utility closet smelled like industrial solvents.

There was the large rolling bucket that always seemed to have a spaghetti mop inside.
There was the assortment of florescent light bulbs to replace those that burned out.
There was an assortment of ladders depending on the job that needed to be done.
There was a hanging light bulb with a pull chain cord.

The janitor didn’t spend much time in his utility closet office.
He was always out and about, polishing and dusting the ceilings for cobwebs.
He was called to lift things, hoist things, remove things, and deliver things.
He was a friendly face around the school and always said hello to everyone.

I used to think that our janitor slept at school since he got there so early in the morning.
The school seemed to be his domain.
More his domain than even the principal.
He was the one that kept everything running smoothly.

He always told the safeties that they were doing a good job.
When he was around, no running in the halls seemed important and dignified.
He knew about thankless work.
He knew about cleaning up after everyone’s messes.

There are those that have the audacity to think that being a janitor is beneath them.
There is nothing nobler.
Serving others always trumps being served.
Putting others’ needs above your own is the most dignified thing you can do.

It is also the most Christ-like thing you can do.
A janitor washes metaphorical feet.
A janitor does the job that no one else wants to do.
A good janitor does the work cheerfully and unto the Lord.

If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as a Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say “Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.” (Martin Luther King, Jr.)

Oh how we have forgotten this simple truth.
We graduate students who all want to be CEO’s of large corporations.
There is nothing wrong with CEO’s of large corporations.
Unless the person has an attitude of entitlement instead of service.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving. (Colossians 3:23,24)

No matter our occupation, we are to serve the Lord.
We may go around with a metal bucket sprinkling sawdust on floors.
We may stand in front of a classroom teaching children.
We may be a research scientist trying to find a cure for cancer.

The what does not matter.
The where does not matter.
The why and the who matters greatly.
Why do we do what we do and who do we do it for matters greatly.

The Why and the Who question has one answer.
The Lord Jesus.
It is the Lord Jesus Christ we are serving.
We serve Him because He is our Lord.

There is no status in the Kingdom of God.
There are only servants.
Humble servants with hearts full of gratitude.
Gratitude for our salvation and for the gifts He gave us so we can give them back to Him.

There was nothing beneath the Lord Jesus.
He washed feet.
He healed the sick, He raised the dead.
He died on a cross.

He constantly went against the status quo in order to serve His Father.
If it wasn’t beneath Jesus, it should not be beneath us.
We are servants of the Living God.
We are to do every thankless, menial task in His name.

And that makes all the difference.
Fill in the blank: Here lives a great ________ who does his/her job well.
Well done, good and faithful servant, Jesus will one day say to us.
Well done.