Saving Our Jobs

A common Christian misconception that I’ve been fighting to overcome in my life has to do with the importance of ordinary, secular work. Over that past few years I’ve been working as a web developer, and before that I’ve worked as a computer engineer, IT helpdesk technician, and a 7th grade teacher. I wanted to know if there is and was any intrinsic value to my work. I had been taught by the church, either explicitly or implicitly, that secular work--work done outside the realm of vocational ministry--is important only insofar as it provides the worker with income that can be donated to charity or given in support of the person who works for God as a missionary or pastor. This work was prioritized because it was the work that facilitated individuals’ spiritual salvation. It was the work that brought people to a place of accepting Jesus into their heart and therefore this work had enduring, eternal significance.

I knew this wasn’t quite right. I knew this left a lot of people in the lurch. The majority of the Christian population was then left with jobs that were only indirectly meaningful as they supported the work of others. Beyond that, the only purpose of their work was to act as a witness to God in the workplace. Those of us engaged in secular work could do little more than act as happy representatives of Christianity that would pique the interest of our co-workers, and hopefully provide an avenue where we could invite these people to church. Then in the presence of trained ministry professionals, our co-workers would hear a message describing a metaphysical transaction accomplished on the cross by Jesus Christ, which would allow them to be saved from their sins if they would acknowledge him as Lord and say a certain prayer. The goal of our work was to make money to give to support professional Christians and to invite our co-workers to come to church so they could meet these professional Christians. Beyond that, our work had little, if any, intrinsic worth.

In an intentional effort to correct this thinking and save my misguided thoughts about work, I read Darrell Cosden’s book: The Heavenly Good of Earthly Work. He articulates a theology of work by looking back to creation and forward to the resurrection. He suggests that our calling to work originates in God’s original plan for humans in creation (because it is only after the Fall that work became toilsome). From the beginning God planned for us to join with him in working. When we work, we become co-creators of culture and co-rulers over the earth with God. Looking forward, Cosden states that our work is not just for the here and now but it will endure into Heaven. He argues for a theological understanding of the resurrection that accounts for God’s promise to redeem all of creation. God won’t trash the earth and start over from scratch. God’s salvation of the earth includes the resurrection and transformation of not just humans but all of creation (Rev. 21-22, Rom. 8, 1 Cor. 15). This means that the programming work that I’ve done, along with the paper filing, technical testing, and management supervisory work that others have done will have an eternal impact on the life we live beyond the grave. Because God will redeem all of creation, our work, which is a part of creation, will be wrapped up in its redemption.

If God can raise and transform the dead...he can raise and transform all present and even past (decayed and gone) earthly realities.
Yet, rather than limiting our thinking to individual products of work, it may also help us to think about the cumulative nature and impact of our work on this earth and on the whole of humanity. Think about how different our world would be had someone not invented the wheel. God’s judgment about the “goodness” or otherwise of the wheel we invented does not apply only to the “original” wheel. It involves a judgment of all that has resulted from there being wheels--all that we have built upon, from, and with this invention.
Today we live with the results, good and bad, of what previous generations did through their work. Every product of work, and every way of working, in some way preserves and develops what has come before. Human beings stand on one another’s shoulders all the way back to Adam. Rather than thinking individualistically about the salvation of unrelated separate entities, it might help us to see our work interdependently as part of the “fabric of this world” (as Lee Hardy calls it) that God will preserve and transform into the fabric of the new earth.
Cosden, pg. 114-115

This being the case, our work clearly has important eternal significance, and furthermore it means we ought to be thoughtful about what sort of work we engage in. With the caveat that there is no perfect job, we should engage in work that is not explicitly damaging to creation--whether it be environmentally dangerous, hurtful to humans, or relationally destructive. For example, if our job was to sell crack on the street or required us to dump environmentally harmful chemicals into a river, as Christians, it wouldn’t do to justify this as a well paying job that can support the vocational ministry of many a minister. Our vocation would be eternally destructive and we should switch jobs immediately. Other jobs, like a technology job that produces software for a military contractor, may fall into more of a grey area. Our continued work at that company should be reflected on with other Christians around us so as to discern the appropriateness of our vocation.

In fact, Cosden suggests that we should all engage in regular Sabbath reflection on the value of our work. This reflection should gauge the appropriateness of our current occupation based on its impact on creation and on the gifting and skill sets we possess. He provides some questions to be answered personally as well as in the context of community to help us reflect on our current vocation.

1) Does or can, this or that occupation allow me to work as God’s apprentice according to his purpose for this creation?
2) Given the ambiguities and ambivalence in this specific work, does it (or how can it) in some measure promote and build harmonious relationships between God and humanity, between people, and between people and nature?
3) Does this work promote or contribute to the psychological wholeness and flourishing of people in themselves?
4) Is this work suited to who I am and am becoming with my gifts and talents?
5) Does (or how can) this work and its results allow me and others to flourish as God’s apprentices?
6) How can we together, with the help of God’s Spirit, minimize or even eliminate its hindering us from this purpose?
Cosden, 117-118

The goal of our Sabbath reflection is to arrive at a place of conviction about our jobs. We want to work in vocations that allow us to participate with God in his work in the world. Cosden calls this “work in the Spirit,” which he defines (with help from Miroslav Volf’s book, Work in the Spirit) as:

1) Work that preserves and maintains what is good in creation, both God-given and made by humanity.
2) Work that clears away, as much as possible, those things that seek to confound the purposes of God and threaten to destroy his kingdom.
3) Work that produces new things that promote personal, communal, cultural, and environmental harmony and well-being--all in a restored relationship with God in Jesus Christ.
Cosden, pg. 145-146

As you and I engage in work in the Spirit, we do more than just earn a paycheck or pass our time. We participate in producing products and culture that will last beyond our days. We engage in work within this created order in partnership with God. We join God in his mission of salvation and transformation of the entire world. We engage with God, who is said to be working even to this day (John 5:17), in accomplishing his purposes for this world. I found this a refreshing take on work that has the power to transform our attitude and save our jobs from the daily grind of the 9-5 work week.

Making Decisions

Making big decisions has historically been a gut-wrenching experience for me. Instead of feeling liberated by the Christian truth that God promises to lead us, I feel burdened by it. The pressure of being certain about the will of God has weighed me down to the point of debilitation. The need to get it right and not make a bad choice has tended to destroy any joy that is supposed to be present in Christian freedom. Decisions have turned into those fork in the road moments where I'm consumed with the fear of taking the wrong path.

It is with this personal back-drop that I read the following quote. I find it an excellent articulation of our responsibility and freedom in making decisions in the real world.

It is now necessary to actually discern what the will of God may be, what might be right in the given situation, what may please God; for one must, of course, live and act concretely. Intellect, cognitive ability, and attentive perception of the context come into lively play here. All of this discerning will be encompassed and pervaded by the commandment. Prior experiences will raise encouraging or cautionary notes. Under no circumstances must one count on or wait for unmediated inspirations, lest all to easily one fall prey to self-deception. Given the matter at hand, an intensely sober attitude will govern the discerning. Possibilities and consequences will be considered carefully. In short, in order to discern what the will of God may be, the entire array of human abilities will be employed. But in all of this there will be no place for the torment of being confronted with insoluble conflicts, nor the arrogance of being able to master any conflict, nor also the enthusiastic expectation and claim of direct inspirations. here will be faith that, to those who humbly ask, God will surely make the divine will known. And then, after all such serious discernment there will also be freedom to make a real decision; in this freedom there will be confidence that it is not the human but the divine will that is accomplished through such discernment. The anxiety about wether one has done the right thing will turn neither into a desperate clinging to one's own good, nor into the certainty of knowing about good and evil. Instead, it will be overcome in the knowledge of Jesus Christ, who alone exercises gracious judgment; this will allow one's goodness to remain hidden the knowledge of grace of the judge until the proper time

Bonhoeffer, Ethics, 323-24

Honestly

There was a time in my life when I was terrified to open my mouth in the presence of Christians.  I felt like everything I said was evaluated and judged, and people were constantly weighing my worth in the balances.  If I said something that referred to a time in my life when I got in trouble or did something inappropriate I got dirty looks.  If I asked questions about doctrine or God's nature my questions would be dismissed with platitudes and condescension.  Church became a place I felt rejected and insecure instead of loved and safe.

I recently came across this quote and it reminds me how important it is for church leaders to create a culture where openness and questioning is acceptable--a place where people can be honest about what they think about God and what questions they have.

"There is very little time and occasion for openness in most of our gatherings because we fear it.  We think it may lead to confrontation, anger, and divisiveness.  We are not open because we fear what others will think of us and do to us.  If we honestly compared the amount of time in church spent thinking about what others think or might think with the amount of time spent thinking about what God is thinking, we would probably be shocked.  Those of us in congregational leadership need to think deeply about this." pg. 202 from Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy

Earlier, Willard talks about how this flows out of our desire to appear good in the eyes of others--we don't want to reveal our doubts or be thought of as strange so we keep quiet and participate in a 'conspiracy of silence' that stifles honesty and vulnerability.  We live not for God, but for the eyes of others, which he calls 'eyeservice'. 

I believe this is what I experienced in the past.  People felt like certainty and unwavering faith were the mark of spiritual maturity.  Conversely doubt and questions were the sign of immaturity, which was naturally remedied through some bible study groups and a consistent devotional life.  I haven't found that to be the case.  In fact, with Soren Kierkegaard, I would argue that doubt isn't a sign of no faith but the sign of the presence of faith.  You can't doubt if you don't believe.

I also believe church is supposed to be a place where we can be honest.  One of the core Christian disciplines is confession.  We confess our failures so that we can receive healing.  If a church culture stifles honesty and vulnerability, we won't feel safe enough to confess our sins to one another.  Consequently we won't experience the liberation that comes from being totally honest in the presence of another person, and then hearing that person repeat the phrase back to you, "As a representative of Christ, you are forgiven."

If you are in a place of leadership in the church, I encourage you to do all you can to contribute to creating a culture like this.  Share vulnerably yourself.  Accept others when they are honest.  Welcome honest questioning and don't shun doubt.  Often times this sort of culture-creating work can be hard.  We have to be the first to open up and share, but I've found that people welcome the honesty and respond in kind.

God forsakes God

"In the night before his arrest, Jesus went into the garden of Gethsemance. He took three disciples with him and 'began to be greatly distressed and troubled', writes Mark (14.33). 'He began to be sorrowful and fearful [troubled]' writes Matthew....Then he throws himself on the ground in horror and fear (Mark 14.35). Earlier too, he had often withdrawn at nights to the solitariness of some mountain in order to be united with his Father in the prayer of his heart. But in Gethsemane for the first time he does not want to be alone with his God. He is evidently afraid of him. That is why he seeks the protection of his friends. Then comes the prayer which in its original version sounds like a demand: 'Father, all things are possible to thee; remove this cup from me' (Mark 14.36) -- spare me this suffering....

In fear that laid hold of him and lacerated his soul, what he suffered from was God. Abandonment by God is the 'cup' which does not pass from him. The appalling silence of the Father in response to the Son's prayer in Gethsemane is more than the silence of death. Martin Buber called it the eclipse of God. It is echoed in 'the dark night of the soul' experienced by the mystics. The Father withdraws. God is silent. This is the experience of hell and judgment....

The Father forsook him and delivered him up to the fear of hell. The One who knew himself to be the Son is forsaken, rejected and cursed. And God is silent....

Finally, it is important to notice that it is only here on the cross that, for the first and only time in his life, the Son addresses God not as Father but as God (hebrew Eloheni, Aramaic Eloi). The prayer in Gethsemane was still addressed to 'the Father'. But the Father did not hear the prayer. On the cross the Father forsook the Son and hid his face from him, as the sun was hidden in the deepest darkness on Golgotha....It is precisely this that is the cross in Jesus' crucifixion; the being forsaken by the God whom he called 'my Father', and whose Son he knew himself to be. Here, in the relationship between the Father and the Son, a death was experienced which has been rightly described as 'eternal death', 'the death of God'. Here 'God is forsaken by 'God'. "

from Moltmann, The Trinity and the Kingdom, pg 77-80