David O. McKay: The Prophet of Purpose and Work
David O. McKay, the ninth president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, delivered this stirring declaration about the virtue of work during a period of profound social and economic transformation in mid-twentieth-century America. McKay served as president of the church from 1951 until his death in 1970, a time when post-World War II prosperity was reshaping American society, yet spiritual values seemed increasingly threatened by materialism and secularism. His emphasis on work as a “privilege,” “blessing,” and source of personal fulfillment reflected not merely religious doctrine but a deeply humanistic philosophy that elevated labor from mere survival necessity to a pathway toward spiritual and personal actualization. The quote emerged from McKay’s broader teaching mission, in which he sought to reconnect Latter-day Saints with fundamental values during an era of rapid technological change and cultural upheaval. Understanding this statement requires delving into McKay’s remarkable life, his unique perspective shaped by nineteenth-century Mormon pioneer heritage, and his enduring influence on millions of people’s relationship with their work and purpose.
Born in 1873 in Huntsville, Utah, David Oman McKay was raised in a community shaped by religious conviction and frontier resilience. His parents were devout members of the newly established church who had embraced hardship as a necessary price for religious freedom and community building. This environment instilled in young David a profound respect for industriousness and collective purpose, values that would define his entire adult life. McKay’s early education was limited by the frontier circumstances of nineteenth-century Utah, but he demonstrated exceptional intellectual capacity and was eventually sent to the University of Utah, where he studied classical languages and became proficient in multiple tongues—a relatively rare achievement for his era. After graduating, he served a two-year mission in Scotland from 1897 to 1899, an experience that transformed his worldview by exposing him to a vastly different culture while deepening his religious conviction. This mission proved formative not only spiritually but intellectually, as McKay encountered educated European society and returned with a cosmopolitan perspective unusual among his peers. His ability to synthesize frontier religious values with broader intellectual awareness became his defining characteristic as a leader.
Beyond his well-documented accomplishments, McKay harbored fascinating qualities and interests that remained less visible to the general public. An accomplished photographer, McKay possessed a keen artistic eye and spent considerable time capturing images of natural beauty, particularly in the Utah landscape he loved deeply. He was also an intellectually voracious reader who maintained an extensive personal library and engaged seriously with contemporary philosophical and literary works, not merely religious texts. Perhaps most surprisingly to those who knew him only through his formal roles, McKay was a genuinely warm and charismatic individual with a keen sense of humor and remarkable memory for personal details about people he encountered. Colleagues and associates frequently noted that despite his elevated ecclesiastical position, he maintained a disarming humility and genuine interest in individuals from all walks of life. His granddaughter, Ann Madsen, has revealed that McKay was also a devoted family man who played with his grandchildren with unfeigned enthusiasm and maintained deep emotional connections to his extended family. These human qualities gave authentic grounding to his teachings about work, purpose, and human dignity—he was not merely preaching abstract principles but living a philosophy that integrated personal joy, intellectual engagement, and spiritual commitment.
McKay’s elevation to the church presidency coincided with a pivotal moment in American religious history when institutional religion faced increasing challenges from secularization and youth disengagement. His tenure witnessed the Korean War, the dawn of the nuclear age, the beginning of the Cold War ideological struggle, and the early stirrings of the cultural revolution that would explode in the 1960s. Into this turbulent landscape, McKay injected a message about work that transcended mere economic pragmatism or Protestant work ethic nostalgia. Instead, he articulated a vision in which work—any honest labor—constituted a form of divine participation and personal sanctification. The quote distinguishing between “privilege,” “blessing,” and “success” established a careful hierarchy: work is first a privilege (suggesting gratitude and humility), then a blessing (indicating spiritual and practical benefit), and finally a source of success when approached with love and integrity. This formulation subtly inverted contemporary American attitudes that measured success primarily through external rewards and social status, redirecting focus toward the internal experience and spiritual dimension of labor. His teaching resonated particularly powerfully among members of the Latter-day Saint community, who embraced a theology emphasizing earthly work as preparation for eternal progression, but the message possessed broader universal appeal.
The cultural impact of McKay’s work philosophy extended far beyond religious circles, influencing business leaders, educators, and motivational speakers throughout the latter twentieth century. His emphasis on viewing work as privilege rather than burden provided a counternarrative to growing labor alienation and the emerging critique of American capitalism offered by sociologists like C. Wright Mills and later scholars examining the “rat race” and meaninglessness of modern employment. The quote became particularly influential in business leadership training programs and corporate culture discussions, where it offered a more philosophically grounded alternative to pure profit-maximization rhetoric. However, McKay’s teaching was distinctly anti-materialistic in its orientation—his point was never that work should be pursued for wealth accumulation or social climbing but rather as an expression of human dignity and spiritual growth. This distinction proved crucial, as it allowed the quote to remain relevant even as critiques of capitalist excess and consumerism grew more prominent. Educational institutions, particularly those