In the spring of 1997 my parents sat me down, told me it was time to get a job and nudged me to apply to Chick-fil-A. At first, I was uncertain about working in fast food, but I liked Chick-fil-A’s sandwiches and I embraced the company's biblical values.
From setting up a Salvation Army Angel Tree to donating food for church events, I had no doubt this was a God-honoring company. As a regular churchgoer, it was a plus that I would never face the pressure to work on Sunday — so I applied and was hired. On my first day, I found the company’s purpose statement in the employee handbook: “To glorify God by being a faithful steward of all that is entrusted to us.”
Impressed, I asked my boss for the story behind it. He explained Truett Cathy’s vision for founding a company that honors God in everything. In that conversation, I began to experience what it means to live out one’s faith in the workplace. I knew I signed up to do more than sell chicken. That was the first of many such conversations over the next three years.
I never attended Cathy's Sunday school or even met him, but he influenced my walk with God nonetheless, and I’m sure the same is true for many of the chain’s employees. I can only imagine the number of spiritual conversations that his “closed on Sunday” policy has sparked between parents and their children.
A recent Chick-fil-A tax report also shows donations to various leftist groups or groups with leftist affiliations. But the biggest shock came when Chick-fil-A donated to the Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC), a group with a track record of labeling Christians as haters or groups following Christian beliefs as "hate groups." This is the same group that, in 2012, inspired a gunman to storm into the headquarters of my organization, the Family Research Council, and attempt to murder my colleagues and me and smash Chick-fil-A sandwiches on our faces.