A tense cloud hovered above the desk that separated us. Meeting in an aging office building in a small Romanian town,  Dorian articulated a troubling reality about his organization: Nobody liked it.

I was in Romania to find a good microfinance organization. Friends of HOPE funded an exploratory trip to determine whether Romania would be a good place for us to expand. With a presence nearby in Ukraine, Russia and Moldova; Romania was a natural next step for our expansion. Traveling the country by train for three months, I met with dozens of leaders to learn more about the needs of entrepreneurs  and about the current resources that were available to them in their country. It was largely encouraging, but my meeting with Dorian gave me pause.

Dorian aired many grievances about his clients. His organization planned business training sessions and no clients show up. They offered business loans, but very few paid them back. They offered consulting services, but nobody was buying. Their clients didn't like or value their products. That reality would normally prompt sympathy from me, not frustration. But I felt much more of the latter because of his closing remarks:

We're sad that nobody is showing up for our training sessions or paying back their loans, but you know, we're telling them about Jesus. And that's all that truly matters.

Dorian's comments contained a semblance of truth. I believe wholeheartedly that we need to share Jesus with those we serve. And in that light, Dorian's enthusiasm about the gospel is admirable. But that's where my agreement with him stops.

Slapping an ichthus on a jug of spoiled milk does not honor God. Searing a cross on a hamburger doesn't make it taste like filet mignon. I don't care how "Christian" your school is; if all your students fail, I'm not sending my kid there. We serve a God who created an earth that holds its axis and planets that hold their orbit. God articulated a breathtaking and precise blueprint for his tabernacle. And our God instructs us to do likewise, commanding we do our work with excellence.

Dorian spoke as if creating a substandard product was honoring to God simply because of the words he spoke. But Christian shoddy is still shoddy. Our creator demonstrated superb taste and strong attention to detail in his craftsmanship. When we ignore the needs of our customers, treat them with disdain and "ichthus-wash" it with spirituality, we do not reflect the full nature of our creator.

Originally posted at Smorgasblurb.
Photo: Johan Koolwaaij

Quarterlife Man Christian Shoddy is Still Shoddy – Written by Chris Horst

I think we've all been there.

You've scoured the Christian section at Barnes and Noble, searching for a jump start. An ignition, if you will, for your lost–––or lonely–––or broken–––life. Invariably, your eyes find the devotional section and you settle on a devotional that might help deliver you from your distance from God.
 

There's no settling here.

A great friend of mine and Quarterlife writer, Cory Copeland, wrote a devotional called We Are Not Hoodlums. It releases today.

This is not your normal devotional and the cover states it succinctly: "a devotional for the rest of us." Because how often do we head to that Barnes and Noble, only to pick up a devo that leaves us feeling less than? It's as if, unintentionally, these devotional writers come from a higher place to prescribe what we truly need.

Cory did not write this devotional to be seen as a religious authority; you can see it on every page. He wrote this as if to say:

"Hey. I'm over here sitting in the mud. I see you sitting over there in the mud. Can we sit in the mud together?"

To broken people with broken hearts and lives, this is sweetness to the soul. I mean, honestly… who writes about life being unfair? And, furthermore, is genuine about it? It doesn't matter if it's worthiness or loneliness or dream-chasing or chasing our past–––it's all covered with an air of humor and grace.

But then my dear friend set me straight and told me I could write such a book because I was in the same boat as someone who needed it. My own broken walk with God is lacking, so why couldn’t the reader and the writer be cut from the same cloth? Why couldn’t we—you and I—begin a Biblical journey together? Why couldn’t a book of devotions and examinations be written from a place of equality rather than a place of supposed superiority? 

(from We Are Not Hoodlums, introduction)

In total, there's a months worth of reading, if you're a one-devo-a-day type of man. If not, read the whole thing in one sitting because you'll love it. I am recommending this to all of you, my dear readers, because you deserve to walk through the trials of life with laughter, stories, and scripture.
 

You can find the book in paperback on Amazon here and you find the Kindle version here. Also, it's Cory's birthday today, so do two things:

1) Sing happy birthday into your computer screen, then find him on Twitter (@Cory_Copeland) and wish him a happy birthday.

2) Get on Amazon (here) and download the Kindle version FOR FREE today. Consider it a birthday celebration.

Quarterlife Man We Are Not Hoodlums. – Written by Jayson Schmidt

After seeing the new Hobbit movie (in 3D nonetheless), and being a bit of an Inklings nerd, I was left wondering; “If Gandalf keeps saving the dwarves with miraculous power, why doesn’t he just use that power to take them to the end of the quest?" In one instance, when the dwarves are cornered and death is eminent, giant eagles arrive to carry them to safety. Why can’t the birds just take them to the mountain?

Before I endeavor to answer that question, this needs some setup: The Hobbit is about a hobbit named Bilbo, who is invited by a wizard named Gandalf to join a company of dwarves who are going to a mountain to slay a dragon. The interesting part is that Bilbo is a homebody who rarely even leaves his garden, while the dwarves are all veteran warrior-adventurers. It’s kind of like if you got asked to be a walk-on to Seal Team 6. The warriors are annoyed to have an amateur along, and really the only person who thinks Bilbo should be a part of the company is Gandalf himself. Along the way, when the company gets into trouble (wolves, trolls, and other mystical threats), Gandalf appears to assist in the company’s victory, sometimes fighting alongside the company, sometimes using wizard skills to affect the outcome.
 

Okay, now back to our question about the birds and Gandalfs power:

In a particularly bad situation, the company is cornered with no escape, and Gandalf calls giant eagles to rescue everyone. At the end of an incredibly arduous 24-hour battle, the company finds themselves resting (and even sleeping) on the backs of giant eagles, who take them well out of reach of their enemies to rest and regroup.

Why doesn’t Gandalf call the birds at the beginning? Why set out along the ground in the first place?

I mean, if the goal is to get to the mountain, kill the dragon, and return victorious, wouldn’t getting there faster be better? “And then the company flew to the Mountain, slew the dragon, and returned victorious. The End.”

In a pragmatic sense (assuming the internal logic of a fantasy novel) the answer is “No.” Bilbo would likely get killed in such a scenario. Without the trolls, orcs, swordfights and Gollum he wouldn’t have gotten his sword, discovered the ring, or found his courage. In short, he’d be useless at Lonely Mountain if he arrived unprepared, and it is the Unexpected Journey itself that is preparing him.

Wikipedia says the reason the Eagles don’t offer an express ticket to Lonely Mountain is because they are sentient beings and, while happy to do Gandalf a favor, it’s just that – a favor. They have their own stories to attend to.

The Bilbo from the Shire is not the Bilbo the company needs for the Unexpected Journey. The Bilbo the company needs is formed in the course of the Journey.
 

Why am I asking such questions in a Theology of Culture post?

It's a big surprise, but Gandalf really plays the role of God in these films. (Although if you want to get picky, he’s more like Melchizedek or the holy spirit) He guides, challenges and saves the adventurers, but most often works through the world they inhabit, and only rarely pulls of a wizard/miracle event to save everyone. This where the mythological framework of Middle Earth jives with biblical truth: God’s not sent us on our journeys for his good or our fortune. Whatever your goal is, God’s plan is to forge a new you out of the old you. While he protects and guides us, he’s not merely in the business of dragon-slaying. If god wants the dragons of the world slain… he could do that himself.

I, like many of you I expect, have my own crises of calling from time to time. I know where I want to go, and while I am assured that this goal is a calling from God, he hasn’t shown up to put me in the express lane to get there.

What if Gandalf brought Bilbo on the journey to transform Bilbo (and by extention, the Shire, the Company, and Middle Earth)? What if the good he is trying to bring about, and the justice he is trying to serve isn’t just the slaying of a particular dragon, but transforming the world of Middle Earth?

God has sent me on my journey to transform me. He wants a Kyle Baker that is more fully Kyle (and more fully Christ) than I am. In the process of transforming me, he’ll also transform (and bring a hint of redemption to) those I journey with, and the places we journey through.

This thought gave me incredible comfort.

Quarterlife Man Of Hobbits and Angels – Written by Kyle Baker

I love a good rags-to-riches story.

Sam “Walmart” Walton sold magazines and milked cows in small-town Oklahoma before building the world’s biggest company. Howard Schultz forged his place in American folklore by brewing the coffee shop movement after a hand-to-mouth childhood in Brooklyn’s worst neighborhood. They each made the leap from obscurity to prominence. Mired in adversity, they clawed their way to triumph. But it is a grand charade to suggest that riches alone are better than rags.

Success is a fickle concept.

We treat it like a GPS destination. Kick the car in gear, turn right at the T, and pull into the driveway after the rusty garage. Follow this route and you will surely arrive. But success looks nothing like a script. And it can be deceiving. He had everything a man could want or imagine, I muse. But with success, you can’t know it when you see it.

“I’ve gone from village to palace,” exclaimed Ashok Khade.

Born in a mud hut without much food, Ashok’s childhood was like a very long walk up a very steep hill. As part of the “untouchables” caste, the lowest of Indian classes, his future was destined to look like his father’s—a grueling life spent cleaning sewers or sweeping streets. But Ashok’s story unfolds just like Sam Walton’s. He studied hard, worked tirelessly and bootstrapped his oil business into a $100M Indian powerhouse.

Ashok arrived. He traded in his rickshaw for a beamer. The oil tycoon now stays at 5-star hotels, adorns his mother with opulent gold jewelry and makes deals with sheiks from Abu Dhabi. The journalist pronounced Ashok’s concluding verdict: “The untouchable boy had become golden, thanks to the newest god in the Indian pantheon: money.”

From a mud shack to the presidential suite, Ashok followed the roadmap to success. And he arrived. He now revels in his wealth, indulging in the finest of luxuries, hoarding his wealth and “living the dream.” But, Ashok has simply gold-plated the chains of poverty.

Ashok should listen to the sage advice of his forbearer. John Rockefeller, also a peasant-turned-oilman, bemoaned, “I have made many millions, but they have brought me no happiness.” At the peak of his success, Rockefeller topped the charts as the wealthiest person in the world. He had no equal. If success were a map, he would be the mapmaker. But, Rockefeller mourned what we are afraid to admit: Success has nothing to do with prosperity. You can indulge in every luxury and still hate waking up in the morning.

Yet we keep peddling the empty promise that a life of prosperity will soothe the wounds of the heart. It won’t. Rockefeller knew it and it shouldn’t surprise Ashok that his newfound riches are like whitewashed tombs.

There is a rags-to-riches story I love more than the rest, however. It is a story of a poor shepherd boy abandoned by his brothers and sold into the hands of a royal Egyptian family. Thrown in jail for years, the poor farmhand persevered and wrote his rags-to-riches story, advancing from the fields to the royal suite.

Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I hereby put you in charge of the whole land of Egypt.” Then Pharaoh took his signet ring from his finger and put it on Joseph’s finger. He dressed him in robes of fine linen and put a gold chain around his neck. He had him ride in a chariot as his second-in-command. – Genesis 41:41-43

From sheering sheep to gracing the throne of the modern world, it was in ancient Egypt where we see rags-to-riches in its purest form. Joseph knew he was not blessed simply to surround himself with frond-waving servants and Egyptian delicacies. He was blessed to bless. “And all the world came to Egypt to buy grain from Joseph, because the famine was severe everywhere.” (vs. 57) It was from this position of power and wealth that Joseph rescued the whole world on the brink of collapse.

From poverty to generosity: A true rags-to-riches story.
 

Originally posted at Smorgasblurb

Quarterlife Man Rags to Riches and Back to Rags Again – Written by Chris Horst

A few months ago, my family and I moved from Connecticut to Texas because God called me to be the Worship Pastor at a church here in Amarillo. God likes to shake things up in my life and do a lot of work through changes that take place in my life. And on the road trip here (to Texas), He did some work on my heart. Here's what happened:

The bulk of day one on the road was spent in a U-Haul with my father-in-law, whom I shall now, henceforth, refer to as the "Marathon Driver". No seriously–––the man is a machine.

Anywho, as the Marathon Driver and I were chuggin' along, I found myself periodically looking at the little blinking dot on my iPhone maps that tells me where we are presently located. Okay, I checked it more than periodically, and some people would consider the time I have spent with my GPS map as obsessive, but who's counting right? As I kept checking, the daunting thought of how much farther we had to go kept creeping into my head. And as the day dragged on, even with the Marathon Driver at the wheel and my professional backseat driving hard at work, somehow, we still got tired. As I got tired, the thought of how far we still had to go became a heavier reality to shoulder.

Strangely enough, right around the time we were about to stop for the night, something hit me. All at once a question tugged at my curiosity…

"What if I looked at how far we've come?"

As I scrolled back through the map and looked over the many miles we had traveled, the result was quite satisfying. We'd passed through western Connecticut, then crossed over to New York. We were in New York for approximately 47 seconds, or so it seemed, but the state that followed took an eternity to get through. I think I watched The Hunger Games (the whole movie) twice. That is, as we made our way through Pennsylvania and into Ohio.

Oops. Did I say The Hunger Games? I meant The Last of the Mohicans. Sure. That's more manly. Right.

In Ohio we stopped at a Pilot, and since our U-Haul was too big to park with the cars, we had to park it in the back with the 'Big Trucks' (if you know what I mean). We were like a sapling in the midst of a giant redwood forest. I've never felt so wimpy in all my life. A couple of truckers were chatting when we drove up and then they stopped and stared at us, as if to say, "Get your wimpy U-Haul out of here and don't come back 'till you get a real truck." And as much as I just wanted to drive on, my stomach was 'a-growlin' so I gritted my teeth, swallowed my pride, and got a delicious burger with curly fries from Arby's.

Then we crossed over into Indiana. Our goal was to make it over the Missouri border before we slept, but once 3am rolled around, it was too risky to proceed with such heavy eyes. So we stopped for the night in Cloverdale, Indiana…

Point being, when I looked back, we had come a long way from where we started. We covered five states and around 850 miles.

Sometimes our relationship with God can be the same way.

We can get discouraged by getting caught up with focusing on all our faults and how far we have to grow. This of course, is when its important to find encouragement in a couple foundational truths.

1. We should recognize that it is by God's grace alone that growth can be achieved. He can and will help us, if we seek Him for it.

2. It is always important to remember that perfection is NOT the goal. Living fully for His glory, by the grace He provides is our goal.

3. When we feel discouraged about the long distance we still have to go (spiritually), it is a great encouragement to see how far God has brought us. Even if we have only been fighting the fight of faith for months, we will still be able to tell a difference between where we started, and where God has brought us.

Think back with me, to a sin in the past that used to rule over you. Then you started to seek God for help, and over time, He allowed you victory over the sin. This is encouraging because if we believe in God's promises, then there is no sin that can stand against God's power over sin in our lives. Our victory is found in Him. And just as He has conquered the sins of our past. So will He conquer the sins and shames of our present. "And we know that all things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28)

Let us focus more on His inevitable victories in our lives, and less on our weakness. It is then that, as John Piper says, "God gets the glory, and we get the joy."

Photo: michaelgoodin, CC

Quarterlife Man Are We There Yet? – Written by Drew East

In hushed voices, a swath of national leaders orchestrated the Rwandan genocide. Labeling themselves the Zero Network, Rwandan powerbrokers crafted their "final solution" to reduce the number of Rwandan Tutsis to zero. I've always assumed some sort of horrific groupthink or terror contagion struck Rwanda in 1994. I've believed that a few bad guys escalated an ethnic conflict into a catastrophe.

But I couldn't have been more wrong. There was nothing haphazard, surprising, or accidental about the Rwandan genocide. It didn't slowly evolve and wasn't a civil-war-turned-ugly. The genocidaires murdered one million humans with the precision that a builder constructs to a blueprint:

It was a careful and long-prepared plan to destroy a people. Press reports at the end of 1994 were still talking about a country losing its sanity, but that is too simplistic an analysis. What happened in Rwanda was premeditated murder. – Hugh McCullum in A Thousand Hills

Théoneste Bagosora, popularly known as "the colonel of death," led a group of government and military leaders that planned–down to every last hut (really)–how they would exterminate the Tutsi people. They trained thousands of  Hutu boys how to chop people to death with pangas (machetes they ordered from the French). They lulled international superpowers like the UN and the United States into believing they were working toward peace.

But when the genocide started, it was evident that Bagosara's ominous forewarning of a "second apocalypse" was understated. The radio announcers stoked the lethal rage, evidencing just how very un-accidental this event was.

Our enemy is one! We know him, he is the Tutsi! …Kill Tutsi in their homes, their parents and their children–and don't forget the unborn fetuses!

In the end, the Zero Network accomplished 80% of their plan of killing all 1.2 million Tutsis. And just 18 years later, astoundingly, Rwanda is one of the most hopeful countries on the planet.

It's my first visit to Rwanda and I'm stuck. I'm stuck between the horrors of the genocide and the optimism of an upstart nation. I can't seem to reconcile the tragedy of the past with the promise of the future. This morning, I reflected on this tension while a group of eight Rwandan orphans led us in song. In their eyes I saw both pain and resolve. And as I worshiped with them, I came to a sense of peace about being stuck. They were too. Harrowed, but moving forward. Wounded, but not fatally. Pained, but steadied. Out of their deep affliction, the people of Rwanda carve a new path.

Originally posted at Smorgasblurb.

Quarterlife Man The Zero Network – Written by Chris Horst

If you have kept up with the news lately, you may have heard of the recent sticky controversy between Chick-fil-a and same-sex marriage advocates. During this time, many boycotted the company while others munched on chicken as a statement of their support. What was lost amidst the chaos of the controversy was that standing your ground and sticking to your beliefs does not mean standing in opposition against others. In the recently published article by Shane l. Windmeyer, we learn that as Dan Cathy, president and COO of the company, reached out to him, two worlds came together not to "abandon their own, but to expand it."

I know many of you are reading this with preconceived notions of the famous chicken sandwich and all that comes to mind when spoken of it, but I'm asking that for a moment, you will put all biased opinions aside.

I have never met Dan Cathy and have never heard his theological views. However, I can tell you that his recent actions towards a man no one would have expected him to reach out to, demonstrate his understanding of the gospel and a true desire to live it out. His controversial actions were unexpected, and were very much appreciated by Shane. I think there is a lot to be learned from Mr. Cathy. He sought to understand Shane before attempting to be understood, demonstrating compassion and love. After learning that the company's actions had impacted many negatively, he offered a sincere apology; not a change of views, but a way of demonstrating deep love for his neighbor. I love that. I love it because this shocking relationship is a reflection of what Christ came to do. He stepped down, humbled himself, and became friends with those who the Pharisees looked down on. He loved on the least lovable, forgave the least forgivable and healed those who were too sick to be healed. He turned everything upside down. Love came down and grace was poured out on the undeserving– us!!

He shared meals with sinners and imputed His righteousness on us. When God looks at us he doesn't see all our junk! Praise Him for that!! He loves us despite us and saves us by His loving grace and mercy. Shouldn't we do the same? Shouldn't we demonstrate that grace towards others despite their beliefs? Loving on others does not take our salvation from us any more than hanging around "church goers" add to our salvation. We can get so caught up on what others may think if we hang around someone who has opposing views as us. We are so easy to judge, so easy to look down on others, and so quick to forget that it was our sin that held Christ on the Cross. So quickly do we forget who we are in the gospel story: not the Savior but the one in need of one. When we realize how messed up and horrible we are, we can admire the grace of Christ even more! This admiration produces love for God and in return, love for others. A love for others regardless of how different our views are, the color of our skin, or the money in our wallet. We can begin sharing meals with them, whether chicken or not, and showing them love because God loved them first.

Let the love of Christ rule in your hearts as you extend the grace that was given to you! 

(Again, find Shane's article here.)

Photo: camknows, Creative Commons

Quarterlife Man The Gospel and Chick-Fil-A – Written by Ally Sanchez

I pulled the same prank every week. I knew it and Darla knew it, but that didn’t stop us from repeating it. There was one reason I continued to covertly “steal” Darla’s bowling ball: Her response. When the prank was up, her laugh enlivened the dark bowling alley. But if the alarming trend continues, far fewer of us will know people like her. Darla lives with Down syndrome, a medical condition our society is attempting to erase.

Saturday mornings during college, I volunteered with the Special Olympics bowling league and track club. And it was Darla’s charm that acted like an unsnoozable alarm clock whenever I considered shirking my volunteer commitment. Her big hugs and contagious smiles greeted everyone she met, and they were the highlight of my week.

When I finished college and moved away from Indiana, Darla’s embrace faded from my memory. But her smile resurfaced and branded itself on my heart when I read Cade’s story and learned that 92 out of 100 babies diagnosed with Down syndrome are aborted. I grew up in a special needs family and grieve that 92% of these families will not experience this unexpected and overwhelming joy.

Last week, my family visited the Denver Aquarium. While there, I saw a young boy with Downs who clamored for a good view of a tropical fish tank. Nobody in the aquarium matched his delight. He saw the world with unfiltered enthusiasm, his imagination captured by the brightly colored fish darting and twisting through the water. The little boy at the aquarium doesn’t know me, but he captivated my imagination with his whimsy.

We characterize people with Down syndrome by their challenges—much like we portray people in poverty by their problems. I’m so glad I’m not identified by what ails me. Chris? He’s the guy that is overly concerned by what other people think of him. Or, Chris? Oh, he’s a “considers-his-own-needs-above-all-others” type of guy. Thankfully, I’m just Chris.

We purge the richness of God’s marvelous creativity by telling thousands of babies that they do not deserve a stake in our society because of their uniqueness. Darla, Cade, the boy at the aquarium, and their many courageous friends are not problems in need of a solution. Darla is a woman who spreads optimism in spite of adversity. The boy at the aquarium reminds us to marvel at the beauty in our world. People worth celebrating and worth protecting.

Originally posted at Smorgasblurb.

Quarterlife Man Darla, Cade and the Boy at the Aquarium – Written by Chris Horst

Breakout sessions typically make me want to break out my smartphone or break out of the room. Rarely does the side stage stack up with the main act. But at a recent conference for human resources professionals, one breakout session was full of fireworks about a controversial subject—what it means to be a faith-based organization.

What the speaker shared, however, left me disheartened. There is no more imprecise label than faith-based. It holds a hundred meanings, each of them different than the next. For nonprofit organizations that wear this label, our interpretation of its implications varies even more. And these differences became clear in the session.

The presenter—let’s call her Sharon—hailed from a widely-known faith-based organization, one of the largest in the world. Her organization is consistently platformed at major evangelical churches and conferences across the country as an organization fulfilling Christ’s call to bring hope to the least and the lost. Sharon directed their global hiring efforts across 50 countries. As a member of the executive team and as “final say” on all senior leadership positions, her stamp carried significant credence. Sharon led a breakout session on recruitment and hiring, her domains of expertise.

She flipped through PowerPoint slides with ease, articulating how she screened job candidates and recruited for positions in remote countries. Sharon concluded her talk, and the audience thanked her with a round of gentle applause. And that’s when things got interesting.

The conference included folks of a swath of religious beliefs—apathetics, atheists, evangelicals, Muslims and everyone in between. One questioner, based on his tone, was likely a practicing antagonist, if you can call that a religion. I remember their exchange vividly.

Antagonist: You say you’re a Christian faith-based organization. Does that mean you only hire Christians?

Sharon: Well, we hire Christians for our senior leadership positions in the countries where we work, but let me state with absolute clarity: We have a strict non-evangelism policy and hire people of all faiths for entry and mid-level positions. We’re about helping people, not about telling them what they should believe.

Antagonist: So you do discriminate in your leadership roles. Well, how do you know if someone is a Christian?

Sharon: We don’t discriminate. When I say “Christian,” I mean we aim to hire leaders that exhibit the Golden Rule—that love their neighbors like themselves. Good people that exhibit kindness and humility. We look for those traits in interviewees.

Antagonist: OK, so say you do hire a Muslim or Hindu for a mid-level position: Could that person be promoted to a senior leadership role?

Sharon: Absolutely. We have numerous Muslims and Hindus, in fact, that serve as country directors for us across the globe.

The conversation continued for some time, the Antagonist and Sharon each feeling each other out, like boxers at the weigh-in ceremony. After their brief exchange, I replayed Sharon’s responses over and over again, attempting to reconcile what she said with the assumptions I had about her organization. Some might read that exchange and be encouraged by it. I felt betrayed.

I was certain she wouldn’t have repeated this to the Christian churches that support her organization. In fact, I’ve consistently heard a message from her colleagues that sharply contrasted it. But there she was, one of the organization’s senior leaders, castigating evangelism and repudiating efforts of other faith-based organizations that place importance on the beliefs of those they hire.

What I expected would be a blah breakout session became a personal watershed moment. The “faith-based” label was not one size fits all. Our world is better because of Sharon's organization, but they are not who I thought they were. And they are not who they set out to be. In our pluralist culture, the gravitational pull of secularism can feel irresistible. But there is fresh momentum building among many faith-based organizations that believe it's not.

This fresh momentum surfaces in surprising places. Even an adamant atheist pleaded for faith-based organizations to remain anchored to our faith. To hold fast to our foundation. Though many disagree with the message of Jesus, we all agree that a light under a basket is no light at all.

Photo: Marcos Fernandez Diaz (vj catmac)

Quarterlife Man The Fuzziness of Being Faith-Based – Written by Chris Horst

There is a subtle, but at times blatant, message which has flowed from the pulpits and lecterns in our churches and universities. The message is this: Our world is increasingly poor, accelerated primarily by the rise of global capitalism and its chief culprit, “big business.”

An anthology of leading Christian thinkers described capitalist economies as a tyranny. The authors went further to indict capitalist economies as wholly “antithetical to the gospel.” One of the contributors, Marcelo Vargas, did not guise his critique:

In the beginning, [it] appeared to be a blessing, but it is a blessing that has been transformed into a curse.

It is really easy to throw stones at capitalism. Vargas and others cite stories of ruthless sweat shops, unbridled consumerism, Ponzi schemes, extreme income inequality, and gluttonous Wall Street executives. There are undeniable flaws, abuses and inequalities within our current economic system. However, if you are at all concerned about the poor; then this system is absolutely the best one we’ve got.

In spite of its flaws, many of which are heinous, the increasingly connected global marketplace is undeniably the best broken system–and its positive impact on the lives of the poor far exceed any system we have seen in our world’s history. The problem with many of the sweeping condemnations of capitalism is that they castigate capitalism based on its villains rather than by its record.

The most critical measure of success, a literal “life or death” statistic, is one that examines whether the world’s most vulnerable have escaped extreme poverty. To that point, and contrary to what many of the its loudest critics proclaim, extreme global poverty has been cut in half over the past 25 years and opportunities for the poor to progress have grown exponentially.

Source: 2009 World Development Indicators, World Bank

In a recent theology conference at Wheaton College, theologians Dr. Brian Walsh & Dr. Sylvia Keesmat described capitalism as “crucifixion economics” and went on to say that “Greater prosperity for [the United States] or its rich neighbors…will not and cannot result in a more peaceful planet.” They slammed global markets and encouraged Christians to withdraw, suggesting that when the rich get the richer, the poor will surely get poorer. I guess my question is this: Just who is being crucified in our current global system? Over 1.4 billion people have escaped extreme poverty over the past 25 years.

Global capitalism has provided unprecedented opportunities for innovative economic development and transformative missions.  Tens of millions of families have escaped extreme poverty on its back. Professor, Hans Rosling, statistician extraordinaire, articulates this progress beautifully in this four minute clip–illuminating that by every measure (child mortality, life expectancy, etc.), enormous progress has been made.

On the flip side, Rosling’s data highlights that the poor in the countries which have chosen to practice an anti-capitalist economic models (e.g., North Korea, Cuba) have not fared as well as they have in capitalist and pseudo-capitalist (e.g., China) economies. Even Fidel Castro admitted the failure of his system just two months ago, when he said, “The Cuban model doesn’t even work for us anymore.” The poor in emerging capitalist economies like Rwanda and India have a different story to tell, as millions have bootstrapped their way out of extreme poverty.

Collectively, we have two options: We can vilify capitalism till the end of days, or, we can be citizens of redemption–salt and light–bringing healing to the brokenness which exists in our current broken system while also being honest about its incredible successes. We can start and run “best of class” global businesses, provide entrepreneurial opportunities to the poor, invest in businesses which do things right, and give generously to the vulnerable. This is the message which should resound from our pulpits and lecterns.
 

Originally posted at Smorgasblurb.

Quarterlife Man The Best Broken System – Written by Chris Horst