Labor Day Blog Post: A Revival of Labor and Spirit

A Labor Revival: For Bread, For Freedom, For Us All

Labor Day was not born from backyard barbecues. It was born from blood, sweat, and struggle. It came from workers who were beaten back and yet refused to bow down—who organized strikes, risked jobs, and sometimes risked their very lives to say: we are human beings, not machines.

The labor movement was necessary because greed had no boundaries. Children were sent into coal mines. Women worked fourteen-hour days in dangerous textile mills. Black laborers built cities and railroads while being denied the dignity of fair pay or safe conditions. Immigrant workers were treated as disposable. It was only through solidarity—through people linking arms across differences—that victories were won: the eight-hour workday, weekends, safer workplaces, the right to unionize.

And we overcame. At least, some ground was gained. But history teaches us that the forces of exploitation never rest, so we cannot either. Today, we see echoes of yesterday: workers juggling two and three jobs and still not making rent; corporations squeezing billions in profits while refusing basic protections; communities taxed but underrepresented, paying into a system that gives little back.

We labor for food.

We labor for companionship.

We labor for healthcare and housing.

We labor for credit, for safety, for dignity.

And now, we must labor for democracy itself.

Ella Baker told us plainly: “We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes.” And yet—many of us are tired. Not just in our bodies, but in our spirits. Tired of fighting for basic respect. Tired of watching neighbors lulled into apathy while injustice marches on. Tired of taxation without true representation, tired of crumbs while billionaires feast.

This is why we need a revival.

A labor revival that remembers that religion and divinity do not tolerate exploitation. Every faith tradition worth its salt proclaims the worth of the worker, the sanctity of rest, and the demand for justice. The prophets of old cried out against those who “trample the poor.” Liberation theology reminds us that God, however we name God, stands with the oppressed. Our ancestors knew this. They drew strength from Spirit to keep striking, keep organizing, keep marching.

And so must we.

We cannot rest on past victories. The Memphis sanitation workers carried signs saying “I Am A Man” because dignity had to be demanded then, just as it must be now. César Chávez and Dolores Huerta organized farmworkers because exploitation had to be challenged then, just as it must be now. Fannie Lou Hamer declared she was “sick and tired of being sick and tired” because complacency was deadly then, just as it is now.

The truth is, victory is not out there somewhere—it is within us. It lies in our willingness to unify across our differences. It lies in our bravery to speak truth to power. It lies in our insistence that we will not be silent, we will not be divided, and we will not accept crumbs when the harvest belongs to all of us.

So this Labor Day, let us rest our bodies but ready our spirits. Let us honor those who came before us by refusing to be lulled back to sleep. And let us declare with courage and conviction:

We will labor until freedom comes.