TheHighCalling.org: Attitude

Stand Firm (Audio)

Howard Butt, Jr. — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Talk about no options! The Children of Israel were fleeing Egypt. Before them lay the Red Sea. On either side were vast deserts. Coming up from behind: the most powerful army on earth. Every direction was certain doom. Who can fight enemies coming on all sides? Then came the order from Moses: “Stand firm. The Lord will fight for you.”

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. These days in particular, many of us feel that troubles are big and options are few. Then as now, however, when you see no way out, the Bible’s words ring ever true. “Stand firm.” When options fail, the Lord will fight for you . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

Moses answered the people, "Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. (Ex .14:13)

Perspective on Sin (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 06:00:00 GMT

We all have a perspective on issues that face us daily. The more convinced we are of our singular perspective, the more potential there is for damaged relationships. It’s easy to convince ourselves of how right we are and how righteous is our way of thinking. What becomes difficult is to consider an opposite point of view.

The perspective of those we work with can become an opportunity for growth or the stagnation that leads to destruction. (See "Them Midlife Blues.") Can we repent of the sin against each other, or do we save our repentance only for sin against the Lord? In failing to acknowledge our wrongs against others, we fail to recognize the principles Jesus set before. Our sins against others are our sins against Christ.

If we can’t be obedient in our everyday relationships, then how can we truly be obedient to Christ? Unless, of course, we’ve made Christ in our own image. Jesus taught us to serve one another, love one another, and to submit to one another.

When it comes to our own perspective, we can stand where we are and demand that others repent, or we can face the lonely path of repentance. We can turn away from our self-destructive behaviors that place the blame on others, or we can confess our own failings. We can recognize the sin in our lives and not the sin in other people’s lives.

Who Did the Work Before You Did? (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Looking at the history of the church can be daunting. With more than two thousand years to survey, we are left to sweeping generalizations. (Here's an example: The Reformation was a direct response to the selling of indulgences.) We reduce a very complex geo-political and theological conflict to some marginal issue that purports moral superiority. But history is not that simple.

There have always been shifts in church culture from its earliest days. Within the New Testament, we see church culture shift from a band of Jewish followers of Jesus to a diverse group of Greeks, Romans and Jews. We follow these early years of church history very closely.

At the end of the first century, we begin to shift form. Rather than follow the growth of the church from year to year, we begin to look at it by century and era. An era is a range of time generally speaking , and in this case, we refer to era as a range of time that includes more than one century. We speak of the Dark Ages, a period of time ranging from eight hundred to one thousand years. Commonly, people think of that era as having a limited influence on the church or causing changes so minor that they could all be linked together. Neither of these conclusions are valid, but we look for handles and sweeping generalizations to make sense of a world long past.

This understanding of church history has relevance for us today, in our daily lives and work. We have a tendency to look at history year to year or maybe decade to decade. In our own lives and the lives of our families, we celebrate yearly events and share memories of birthdays, anniversaries, and other family events. We share stories. Most of our stories center on three generations: parents, grandparents, and children. Rarely do we go beyond that range. So we know less and less about our roots and what makes up certain elements of our character as time moves forward.

At our jobs, the same is true except for an overarching theme that may drive the vision of the company. The Levi Straus story serves as a reminder to employees of Levi. Likewise Coca Cola employees know the story of Dr. John Stith Pemberton, founder of Coke. The image of the founder may carry the vision, but the work of the thousands of employees gets lost or combined into one story of the culture of a company. Yet each individual story matters in shaping that culture. Not each story is recorded. Even the founding story gets glossed and used for the purpose of the new generation, but all of these stories together create the company's culture.

You may or may not know the story of your predecessor where you work, but that person still influences the workplace. The functions and values of a workplace really depend in large measure on the people who came before us. We can ignore the people, but we cannot ignore the legacy of their influence. It exists as the spirit of the company.

Understanding history makes a difference. It serves as a helpful guide and informs future decisions. The positive as well as the negative issues are important as we look to the future. Ignoring history doesn't make it go away. We just repeat patterns without knowing why.

Trying to understand our family histories or our work histories helps us to make better decisions. Our Christian faith is rooted in history and understanding God's story and how it unfolds in our lives connects us to something beyond ourselves. We become connected to His story and not just our story.

Who Are You? (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 06:00:00 GMT

A college professor of mine once said, "You aren't who you think you are. You aren't who others think you are. You are who you think other people think you are." You might think that's just a bunch of double speak, but I find wisdom in those words.

We all have an image of ourselves. It's an image we carry out into public. Then people develop their own image of who we are. Our self-image and the way people see us are different. We aren't really either one of those images. Instead, we begin to project how others think of us, and this can occupy our thoughts. It begins to shape how we act, how we respond. It's like the eagle who thought he was a chicken. He was hatched among chickens, grew up among chickens, and thought he was a chicken.

At our Laity Lodge Youth Camp, we have a final night "Say So" where campers can share what the time at camp has meant to them. Over the years, a common theme arises in the responses: "This is a place where I can really be myself." What a wonderful gift that is, a place where we can really be ourselves. What's sad is that by the time we're teenagers, we've begun to base our self -image on what we perceive others think of us.

Throughout the gospels, Jesus delivers a consistent message about whose opinion we should value. Our image is tied to what God wants for us. Followers of Christ should think differently than other people. The Beatitudes explain this. John chapters twelve through seventeen deliver this message directly. The way the world thinks does not match the expectations of God.

We aren't who we think others think we are. We are Christ's and his alone. It's a message the campers at LLYC hear for two weeks every year. While they are at camp, they internalize this message and feel it and know it. It's a message that should be embedded in all of our hearts so we can live it out in our daily lives and work.

When Things Are Tough (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Sometimes at work, things can get difficult. We may feel that times are tough and everything is caving in on us. It might be helpful to think about a group of men who were on the job when disaster struck. They are memorialized in song by the Canadian balladeer Gordon Lightfoot.

It was a cold blustery November in 1975 when a ship set out on its final voyage of the season. Departing from Superior, Wisconsin, the ship was headed through the Great Lakes for a steel mill near Detroit. Its cargo was twenty-six tons of iron ore. But the SS Edmund Fitzgerald never made it out of Lake Superior. It went down, taking all twenty-nine crew members with her.

Less than a year later, Gordon Lightfoot’s ballad was climbing near the top of the charts. His haunting lyrics captured the essence of work and camaraderie:

When supper time came the old cook came on deck sayin',
"Fellas, it's too rough t' feed ya."
At seven p.m. a main hatchway caved in; he said,
"Fellas, it's been good t' know ya."

“The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" memorializes the men who lost their lives doing their job:

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
in the "Maritime Sailors' Cathedral."
The church bell chimed, 'til it rang twenty-nine times
for each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Lightfoot’s ballad honors the work and the men whose lives were lost fulfilling our need for steel. Rarely, if ever, do we think about the sacrifices of others who have provided for some of our basic needs. We don’t give much thought to the logger who harvested the lumber for our homes, the miner who extracts the raw materials we use daily, or the mariners who deliver those raw materials. It could be said that we take these people, and their risky jobs, for granted. We may feel the same way--that we’re being taken for granted. It makes a difference if we see our work as a high calling. We’re working for an audience of one, the One who knows us by name and loves us and calls us to give our very best and never takes us for granted.

Keeping Self-Sufficiency in Check (Bible Reflection)

Sam Van Eman — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 06:00:00 GMT

"I can't believe I have to patch rust spots on the truck again."

"Didn't you just do them?" asked Julie, remembering my complaining from last time.

"Yeah, like six months ago." I began pacing the kitchen. "I wish I could buy new bumpers, new doors, and a new bed, but the truck is already 18 years old—where am I going to get parts like that? They'd all be rusted, anyway. And the whole thing would be so expensive. Why can't I just buy a new truck altogether?"

My patient wife. She lets me rant because she knows I'll eventually remember Paul's comment to the Philippians: "I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want" (4:12). Paul's mature acceptance helps me realize I need to confess my negative, whiny attitude.

But wait. This response is a bit off-track. Be grateful and stop complaining isn't Paul's message here. "Content" comes from the word autarkes, which means "self-sufficient." An autarkic country, for example, is economically self-sufficient. What Paul has learned is not the secret to happiness, but the secret of needing no economic assistance, a point he also makes in 2 Thessalonians 3:8 and Acts 20:34. So while I ought to stop complaining about my truck, Philippians 4:12 isn't the right verse for the job.

This raises two questions for me. One, how can I stop misreading this verse when I (popularly) think being "content" means being satisfied or happy? And two, what lesson could emerge about sufficiency?

I'm not sure how I can stop misreading the verse. Languages develop like cicadas—slowly, with discarded exoskeletons of word meanings. What a challenge for readers—and for Bible translators! However, I'm beginning to learn more about sufficiency and how it relates to my work. God empowers us with a degree of self-sufficiency, but he also makes it clear that we are powerless without Christ.

An Attitude of Self-Sufficiency

In the passage above, Paul is thanking the Philippians for a monetary donation while also claiming that he can take care of matters on his own.

My kids do this. Thanks, Dad, but I can cut my own hot dog. I can pedal up this hill by myself. I can buckle my own seat belt. Of course, they need me, but not entirely. "The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it" (Gen. 2:15). God gave Adam the command to cultivate and the ingredients to do it—and then set him free. By no later than Genesis 4, we see that Tubal-Cain had already "forged all kinds of tools out of bronze and iron" (v. 22).

What a tremendous gift, this creative self-sufficiency. Sometimes we use it to cultivate for pleasure, sometimes to cope with discomfort, and sometimes because desperation demands it. "Necessity is the mother of invention," you know, and we need everything from pleasure to emergency solutions. I don't know how Paul found food in times of hunger, but I bet he didn't wait for it to fall from the sky.

An Attitude of Christ-Sufficiency

Yet in the very next verse Paul concludes, "I can do everything through him who gives me strength" (Phil. 4:13). It was Christ who freed Paul on the road to Damascus; Christ who provided the gospel; Christ who provided grace in Paul's weaknesses, and so on. Paul's self-sufficiency wasn't an idol (nor an argument for churches and nonprofit organizations to stop accepting donations) but an appropriate response to the Creator.

We need both expressions in our vocations: I can do this, and I need Your help. It's a delicate balance. Tilt one way and you'll find yourself with a messiah-complex. Tilt the other and you'll be no earthly good.

Moses knew about this balance when he warned the Israelites, "You may say to yourself, 'My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.' But remember the LORD your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth . . . " (Deut. 8:17-18).

We can be creative cultivators today. Let's just not forget who makes it possible. (And while we're at it, let's not whine either.)

The Joy of Work (Personal Reflection)

Bradley Moore — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Several months ago, I was offered a very exciting CEO position with a fast-growth company in a glamorous industry. At least it seemed so at the time, compared to my current job. We spent a few weeks negotiating, but right before anyone signed anything, the whole deal fell apart because some "accounting irregularities" were uncovered. Oops. It sent the business into a tailspin for a while and eventually the owners sold out to an investor group who, of course, wanted to choose their own CEO.

Thank God the mess came out of the woodwork before I committed to it. But afterwards, I was left with this empty feeling, wondering how I was going to go back to my real, now very boring by comparison, existing job (the one that was still paying me) with any enthusiasm. By comparison, my current job seemed entirely mundane and beneath my capabilities. Maybe, I thought, the job offer was a nudge from God pushing me forward, a sign for me to move on, to start looking for another position somewhere else—a hint that I had outlived the useful life of the current company and position I was in. God does that sometimes, doesn't he?

I kept ruminating about it, getting more and more disappointed and disgusted with my current station. Yes, I'm sure of it. God has Bigger Plans For Me! I decided that I must consult with my Leadership Coach and Mentor, Dr. Payne, about this. I desperately needed a business advisor to help me make some important career decisions.

Dr. Payne is a British chap with a great accent and terrific sense of humor—kind of like Monty Python with a briefcase. And that refined British accent somehow makes him sound very, very smart and commanding, like I should do exactly as he says, no matter what, right now! It turns out that Dr. Payne also has a passion for helping working stiffs like me find more spiritual meaning in our careers and work life.

I met with Dr. Payne the next week at my office. I immediately unloaded my great burden on him, working myself into a lather about my untapped, underutilized, unacknowledged leadership potential that was completely going to waste. He let me rant for a while, and then he gave me some advice:

"As we get older and approach midlife, it becomes more important to find joy in what we are doing rather than what we can achieve. Do you agree?

"Sure thing, Doc."

(What I was really thinking: "I don't want joy. I want a major career upgrade! I want the stock grants and the IPO in two years and those business trips to Europe and the Caribbean!")

Dr. Payne definitely had the advantage here because he is about 15 years older than I am, so he might know something that I haven't thought about yet. He talked about how things that were important to us when we are young do not bring us the same fulfillment as we start getting older. In order to stay happy and productive, we need to shift the way we look at our lives. He continued.

"Because when we do things that bring us joy, it will ultimately bring joy to others. And then God opens up his pathways for us and you will begin to experience his abundance. I have no doubt you will find your way to discover God's purpose for your career. But right now I want you to spend the next few weeks paying very close attention to the things that bring you joy as you go through your workday. Write it down for me."

Okay, joy isn't actually so bad. I'm sure I could benefit from identifying the activities that bring me joy, since I've been so cynical and grumpy at work lately. In fact, to be honest, I haven't really thought about joy in my life much at all. Joy is good. Good idea.

Over the next few weeks, I kept track of the things that brought me joy at work. Surprisingly, this was not difficult. It turns out there were many things about my job that were enjoyable. And keeping track of it kind of helped me to gravitate more towards those activities I found joy in. For me, they were things like working on high-level strategy projects, initiating major change, mentoring other guys in their jobs. When I stopped to pay attention, there were actually a lot of interesting things going on with my job that I truly enjoyed. I think I had been so focused on what I didn't have, or what I thought I should have, that I was missing the opportunity to make the most of what was right in front of me. And maybe Dr. Payne was right. Maybe if I just keep focusing on the things I'm good at, the things I enjoy, then that tremendous new career opportunity would show up at the right time. I decided I was going to have a better attitude about my current job.

Isn't it funny: after just one meeting with Dr. Payne, I realized that I have been so focused on my career and the next big advancement, the next promotion, the next ego-boost, that I had forgotten how to think about life in more simple terms: fun, gratitude, relaxation, joy.

Dare we say that Dr. Payne was sent by God?

Work & Play: Classic Theories (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 06:00:00 GMT

According to M. J. Ellis in Why People Play, there are five classic theories of play. Let’s look at a quick summary of the five classic theories and a couple more.

The surplus energy theory is about the buildup of excess energy in the body that needs to be expelled. This theory gets applied by people who work with children such as teachers and parents. They want kids to run around and burn off excess energy, so they’ll be more attentive and less restless.
Relaxation is another theory. The idea is that play and sport help us to recuperate from work. Going home and sitting in front of the TV for hours doesn’t help us to recuperate, but some type of activity such as games, sports, reading, art, etc. help us to refresh ourselves.
Instinct is another theory of play. There could be some interior drive that moves us toward play. An example of an instinct is the "fight or flight" response when faced with danger. Do we face the danger and fight, or do we flee? Of course, we are not faced with mortal danger on a regular basis. But our play can simulate danger and engage our instincts to respond appropriately.
Preparation for life is another theory for why we play. Mostly, it’s seen as preparation for adulthood. Children play to imitate adult life and practice what it may be like. Many manufacturers sell toys designed on this premise. They produce toys like ovens, construction tools, phones, dolls, uniforms . . . the list is long.
Recapitulation is the theory that we play to repeat earlier stages of human history. It explains how organisms develop from the earliest stages and has some similarities to the instinct theory. The development of infants and their play reenact elements representative of the historical development of all humanity. And later in life, for example, the sports we engage in represent a hunting and gathering nature found in primitive humanity.

Two of the more recent popular theories are catharsis and competence-effectance motive.

Catharsis is a theory where we release pent-up emotions through our play activities. We get angry, so we go out for a run to let off steam. Play is a release.
Competence-effectance is more complicated. First, it assumes that play reinforces our feelings of competence. At the same time, we’re also having an effect on our surroundings. So we play to sharpen our skills (competence) and to have an effect on what is happening around us (effectance). For example, we play catch to improve our eye-hand coordination, and for fun. We keep playing catch because we have some success and we want to repeat that success. Eventually, we expand playing catch into a game like dodge ball. We’re experiencing competence and having an effect on the environment around us.

Those are some of the more popular theories of play. The theories all have some validity to them. Also, they each have their limitations.

Rather than discuss their shortcomings as theories, we’ll move on with an understanding that there are theories of play which help us to better understand play and its relation to work.

There is one glaring limitation in each of these theories. None of them contain a theological explanation. This omission has influenced the way humanity has played throughout the ages.

Work and Play: Is It Useful? (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Play is just something kids do to pass the time. That’s a totally ridiculous statement, but there’s a part of us that believes it’s true. We don't value play. Instead, we talk about work, purpose, and achievement. Of course, this is a website dedicated to the high calling of our daily work, but looking at play helps us to better understand the meaning of work .

Early on, we’re made aware of the burden of work in our lives. "Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life” (Gen. 3:17). Culturally, we’re conditioned to work hard and achieve success. Play gets lost. We don’t have a good understanding of play, so as a society we’re not very good at it.

I remember several years ago, I used to play golf with my friends. One was a golf pro. He said, “Dan, don’t keep score. Instead just count good shots.”

Terrific advice. I tried that for awhile and realized that the good shots kept me coming back to the course. I wasn’t quite good enough, so I made two goals: shoot under ninety for an eighteen-hole round and shoot under forty for nine holes. I worked hard at achieving those goals. Then, after months of daily toil at the game, I finally reached my goals—in the same round.

I don't play golf anymore. The game had lost its joy. Once I achieved my goals, it wasn’t as much fun.

Instead of going out to the course with friends and counting the good shots, I had turned golf into work. I needed to toil at it, set goals and reach those goals. For golf to serve a purpose, I had made it utilitarian.

Why do we need everything we do to be useful? It is a persistent outlook. If our actions aren’t useful, then they’re a waste of time. Consider this: “Utility is the great idol of the age, to which all powers must do service and all talents swear allegiance.” Friedrich Schiller wrote those words in The Aesthetic Education of Man around 1795.

If we are only practical about the way we use time, we will turn all our activities into work.

Selling Out or Just Selling? (Bible Reflection)

Dan Roloff — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Read Acts 17:16–34.

Paul then stood up in the meeting of the Areopagus and said: "Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you. (Acts 17:22–23)

When I went to my first student-teaching assignment (more than a few years back), my supervising teacher said, "You’ve got to be a salesman." I almost choked on my lunch. Sales? It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind as a career path. He went on, “If you don’t sell your program, then who will? There’s competition to fund these programs, and you have to sell the administration, faculty, parents, and students. If you believe in the work you’re doing, just let it show and talk about it.”

As you can tell, those words made an impression on me. Years (okay, decades) later, I remember the conversation vividly. My coworkers will tell you that I’m not shy about my passions. What I’ve learned, however, is sensitivity. Whatever my passions, I need to be sensitive to what the listener is able to hear.

As a parent, I’ve tried to tell my children something, and it goes past them like a gust of wind. They just won’t listen until they hear it from someone else. That’s what I mean by being sensitive to the listener. It happens at work too. I can float an idea, but if the listeners aren’t ready to hear it, or if I haven’t put it in terms that are meaningful to them, then my idea is just not going anywhere.

This is what we can learn from Paul at Athens. He finds himself in the world of ideas surrounded by the Council of the Areopagus. While its governing power had eroded over the centuries, the Areopagus still consisted of highly respected influencers in Athens. Even the Roman rulers had respect for the council. Paul engaged these intellectual aristocrats of Athens on their terms. He pointed out an altar “To an Unknown God.” Paul didn’t try to teach them about the Jewish faith and culture. He engaged them in the rhetorical style and language of Greek philosophy.

You could call Paul a salesman. He was sensitive to his audience’s needs. Remember, these were the intellectual leaders of the city, and he was selling them on the idea of a God who supersedes all other Gods. Paul didn’t quote Hebrew Scripture to the Greeks as a means of persuasion. Instead he took what the Greeks already knew. They were familiar with the idea of an unknown God. Paul tried to get them to see that the One God was not contained by temples or controlled through human activities.

Only when he got their attention did he subtly introduce the notion of the Hebrew God. There is one God who made all humanity. He doesn’t need humans to give him anything to complete him. His breath gives life to everyone. Paul then moves on to a more dialectic style as he tries to persuade the Greeks by calling to mind their own poets.

We don’t have a transcription of the oral argument Paul put before the Areopagus, but the description of the encounter recorded in Acts gives us enough information to see the style Paul used with these Athenians.

His strategy for selling the idea of a new faith worked. We know that at least one member of the Council, Dionysius, was persuaded. Others who overheard his discussion with the council were also persuaded. Although Paul moved on quickly from Athens, his strategy for persuading the Greeks and Romans was incredibly successful.

Paul knew his audience. He was a Romanized citizen of Tarsus in Asia Minor (modern Turkey) who was heavily influenced by Greek culture. But he was first a Jew—and out of his Jewish faith came the Messiah who would save the world. Now that was something worth selling.

Questions for Reflection:

How would your rank yourself as a communicator? Are you a master of rhetoric and persuasion? Or do you struggle to express yourself in ways that people can understand?
Do you talk about your faith when you are going about your daily work?
Are you a good listener? Or are you more interested in selling your own ideas?

The Water of Life (Personal Reflection)

Luci Shaw — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 06:00:00 GMT

[Jesus said] Those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life. John 4:13-14

Hydration! We're well aware that water is the essential element for life and growth. We can live for a short while if deprived of food, but we wither, shrivel, and die without water. We not only need this vital fluid to sustain our bodies, but for multiple other uses—bathing, washing, cleaning, and cooling—and when our water supply is limited, our lives get dessicated and restricted.

Recently I joined fifteen other members of our church and went with an NGO group, El Porvenir, to Nicaragua, one of the world's poorest countries. Our task was to help make pure water available for a remote mountain community. Their women had to walk two miles to a river to do laundry, to bathe, and to get water for drinking and cooking, which they carried back on their heads to their small, primitive dwellings. Their lives and needs were simple. Their everyday food consisted of rice, frijoles (red beans), tortillas, and bananas. Some of them had chickens that clucked their way in and out of the dirt-floor shacks, so eggs were available. But water? The cost in time and effort made it doubly precious. Not a drop was to be spilled or wasted.

Over several years, El Porvenir staff have developed ways of tapping into Nicaraguan underground aquifers and installing hand-cranked wells, capping them to prevent pollution. Once the wells are in place with a roof over them, the next step is to set up lavanderos, "wash houses," with preformed cement tubs and built-in washboards for doing laundry, as well as individual stalls where villagers can bathe in private.

Our job was to mix cement and form level floors for the wash house. I found I was pretty handy with a shovel! Once the work was finished and the concrete was hardening, we knew we'd made life a bit easier for these families. Can you imagine the relief the women and children felt at having water so easily available? They kept flashing brilliant smiles at us and saying "Gracias! Muchas gracias!" "Gracias a Deo!"

Water is a vanishing resource around the globe. Drought affects millions of people, resulting in famine, starvation, and death. How miraculous that Jesus provides for us a well already dug, a spring of water flowing for the life of the eternal spirit, a resource that will never dry up! Have you ever considered your house of worship or your times of private prayer or conversations with a believing coworker to be a "wash house"? Think of them as places where you can come and drink freely, like a cup of cool water, from Jesus—refreshment, not brief and physical, but ongoing into eternity? All it takes to tap this divine faucet is trust, confidence that Jesus is with us in our daily life and work, that he hears and answers us, changes our lives for the better, and promises a transformation that will be everlasting, never subject to climate change or mortality.

Simple Principles for Workplace Communication (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 06:00:00 GMT

A conversation between Jesus and Peter illustrates a common communication problem in the workplace.

. . . Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.

Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. "Never, Lord!" he said. "This shall never happen to you!"

Jesus turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men." (Matt. 16:21-23)

This is a common problem. People tend to take a vision and mold it to their way of thinking. Peter refuses to accept the vision of Jesus. Instead, he seems to be saying, “No, no, Jesus, you got it wrong.”

That’s pretty bold!

And it happens frequently in the workplace. Instead of being shaped by the vision that we’ve signed on to advance, we shape the vision to ourselves. We advance our own version of the vision.

Preceding the conversation quoted here, Jesus has just declared Peter the rock upon which he will build his church. Maybe that sense of inflated ego brought Peter to say these things to Jesus. Maybe it was Peter’s natural instincts of being a protector that made him react so strongly to what Jesus was saying. Whatever the reason, Peter missed the boat and his words are contrary to the mission of Jesus.

Jesus didn’t rebuke Peter with a gentle pat on the head either. He came at Peter hard, calling him evil, telling him to get out of the way. Yikes!

I’ve found that a good place to start with effective communication in the workplace is motivation. It’s always good to consider the motivation of others such as supervisors and other employees. But when communication breaks down and you become frustrated, check your own motivations first. Once you understand those and can examine the breakdown in terms of what’s best for the organization, you can move to addressing any additional problems.

The overall vision and direction of an organization is always important to communication. Peter lost sight of that. Whether his motivation was tied to his vision of himself as a protector or a grandiose vision of himself as the “Rock,” it diverted his attention from the overall vision and mission of Jesus. Peter had his own version, and Jesus confronted him with that fact.

Finding Solid Ground in Slender Times (Bible Reflection)

Kirk Livingston — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 06:00:00 GMT

You've completed the applications, uploaded the resumes, phoned everyone you know, and are now calling down a list of new people you don't know. Meanwhile, you can count the weeks left before your finances are completely exhausted. You've prayed every step of the journey, and lately you've prayed with a rabid urgency. But still no job and no solid prospects. You believe. And you ask help for your unbelief. What is God doing here, anyway?

Maybe you have two questions: "What is God doing?" And, "Where can I stand while I wait for him to do it?" After all, doesn't the answer to that first question sometime take years to unravel?

A few familiar Old Testament characters found ways to wait for God to put solid ground under their feet.

Who's Really In Charge?

Daniel lived in uncertain times too. His life as an advisor spanned at least four kings, each of whom had the power to send him, his pals, and all the counselors to their death on a whim. But early in his career-in-exile, Daniel understood something important. While power was in the king's hands, the king's handful of power still came from God. And Daniel was not afraid to tell the ruthless king that:

" . . . the Most High is ruler over the realm of mankind and bestows it on whomever He wishes." (Daniel 4:17, 25, 32)

Those words could have cost him his life. Instead, recognizing aloud the reach of God's control put Daniel's life in focus, and the Lord himself became Daniel's solid ground. Recognizing God's control over the realm of mankind is a first step on solid ground.

The Brand New Thing that Could Not Happen Before

The sons of Korah knew something about uncertain times—just listen to the raw cries in their poems. In Psalm 85, they present an upbeat psalm that opens with how God turned their fortunes, forgave them, and took away his anger. But there's more. The turn was not complete: the writer continued looking for God to restore the people and move past his anger. God had acted, but the psalmist waited for the complete restoration. But he waited with intentionality:

He was determined to listen for what the Lord would say (85:8a). He wanted to hear those words of peace, words he hoped would keep the people from their folly.
He knew God's salvation was near—because it is always near to those who fear him (85:9). And when God's salvation is near, the door swings wide for God's glory to dwell in the land—even as God works through His waiting people.

This final foothold is very solid ground indeed. As we understand God's power over all things, we must also realize the very circumstances themselves become opportunities for God's salvation to pour through our lives. The Sons of Korah said:

"Surely His salvation is near to those who fear Him, that glory may dwell in our land." (Psalm 85.9—NAS)

God's salvation being near us means that God's glory—the purpose he has been intent on through the ages—has opportunity to grow in the very land we live, in the land our people live, and in the land where he grows our economic harvest. And so God's purposes become our solid ground.

Courtesy in Workplace Communication (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 06:00:00 GMT

The struggle to communicate effectively and appropriately at work is a challenge for me. While I view myself as a fairly easy-going person, other people sometimes see me differently. I can be combustible. It’s easy to fire up my ignition because the switch is so accessible. I prefer the standby mode, but I must admit that I’m pretty much launch-ready all the time. I’ve just learned to keep my finger off the trigger.

This is so fresh in my mind because some minor failures in communication have forced me to reflect on how communication in the workplace can be confusing and challenging.

Here’s an example: I’m very guarded with my time and what I’m doing. My inclination is not to tell anyone what I’m doing or even where I’m going. Years ago, someone confronted me about this, and it angered me. I would get up from my desk and just walk out the door without saying anything to anyone. Since we have four office buildings and three storage buildings on our campus, I could be in any one of those. If somebody needed me, they might not be able to find me. (This was before everyone carried a cell phone.)

One day a frustrated secretary told me that I needed to tell her where I was going when I left the building. My immediate response was, “No, I don’t.”

That’s an example of poor communication. The secretary wasn’t trying to control my activities. She just wanted to be able to tell someone where I was if they were looking for me. My motivation was tied to my need to control my own actions. Her request in no way threatened me, but I interpreted it as a threat. I felt like I didn’t need to answer to her.

Well, yes I did. It’s called courtesy. I owed her as a coworker the common courtesy of telling her where I was going so that she could find me or relay the information to someone who was looking for me. I needed to get over my personal discomfort. My mixed-up motivations were getting in the way of effective operations. I knew my needs. I also had to consider the needs of others for an effective workplace.

The Anxiety Master (Bible Reflection)

Paul Seebeck — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 06:00:00 GMT

"What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God." But Jesus rebuked him, saying, "Be silent, and come out of him!" Mark 1:24-25

Here's a simple question. Does a gospel story about Jesus healing a man with an unclean spirit have anything to say to us who are living through a global economic crisis? I 'm asking this question because of the anxiety—I could be the next to be downsized—that swirls around us in our places of work. Anxiety that is full of pain, fear, apprehension, and self-doubt that comes from sudden loss that leaves us knowing it will never be the same again.

Jesus identifies with the very nature of this kind of loss based on how he treats those who are full of pain. He steps into a sanctuary and begins to teach. Immediately those listening are astonished. He is not like anything they are used to. Although we don't know specifically what Jesus said here, we know he taught with authority. The love and care of God is present to those gathered in the room. Then, just as suddenly, there is chaos. A man with an unclean spirit says, "Jesus, I know who you are, the Holy One of God. Have you come to destroy us?"

Imagine if that were to happen to you this week. Imagine if a person started shouting out those words at your workplace or at a community gathering. Notice what Jesus does in the story. A man gives voice to conflicting emotions that are within him. Jesus doesn't speak to him per se, but to something that is within the man.

This is what I want to get at. At first glance, the story of Jesus confronting this unclean spirit within a man doesn't seem relevant to our daily experiences. After all, what do we know about talking to and then casting out unclean spirits? Yet if one looks closely at the Greek word for unclean, ak-ath'-ar-tos, it is conveying a sense of being unclean in a couple of ways; ceremonially, one could be clean by abstaining from certain things according to religious law; and morally, one could be unclean in both thought and life. Something inside this man expects God to destroy him, an indication that he is unclean in his thoughts and life; certainly they are not integrated in the idea of a loving, caring God.

Jesus simply says to this voice of destruction, "Be still. Come out." Wouldn't it be a wonderful thing if it were that simple for us? Sure, Jesus could address all that is swirling in us and around us. He could say, "Be still. Come out. Be gone." We just might not hear it initially for our inner voices clamor the loudest when we are the most anxious about rejection and loss, with voices telling us we won't make it—listening to them can make us angry or sad. These are crazy thoughts that come to us—or at least to me—at 4:00 a.m.

Whatever Jesus decides to do in our lives, he has authority over us. We may feel unclean. We may feel on the edge of destruction, but we are in the love and care of God connected through Jesus Christ. We are called again to listen to this authority and to live fully in relationship with the One who loves us, to discover strength that is always present to us in our inner lives. This calling is not only for our sake but for the sake of the world and for the sake of those around us in the places of our daily lives where God is calling us.

Five Things Americans Value (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 06:00:00 GMT

What is it that we value as Americans? By stepping back and observing cultural trends, I’ve landed on five things we seem to value. By value, I mean what we do that we deem important in our lives, where we spend our time, and where we commit our resources. Here’s my observation list:

1. Entertainment is overwhelmingly the most valued commodity in our culture. We spend enormous amounts of time seeking entertainment and billions of dollars on being entertained. Its importance is manifest in the cult of celebrity. Celebrity actors' and athletes' opinions sway millions of Americans. It isn’t who they are or what they represent that truly matters; it’s who we project them to be.

2. Talking about politics is a national obsession. If participation in politics, especially at a local level, were as popular as talking about politics, we’d live in vastly different communities. As it stands, even voting is a hit-or-miss proposition among Americans. But talking about politics and telling others how to think or what to think is very important to us. We’re opinionated, and we want others to know our opinions. That’s why blogging is so popular.

3. Business has an incredible influence on our lives. Collectively, we believe that business provides the means to pursue our happiness. Money matters, and business provides the money. We even let business heavily influence how our schools should be run. Standardized testing leads to a bottom-line accountability. Things like creativity are grossly undervalued because they can’t be standardized. Even churches are moving toward a business model for operating purposes.
4. Eating is highly valued among Americans—not eating for the purpose of survival but eating for pleasure. We’re overweight and growing. On the opposite pole, we’re obsessed with health foods and the latest berry to come out of the rainforests. Obesity is a serious problem, but we keep overeating.

5. Religion is a bit of a conundrum on this list. It’s valued by the sheer numbers of worship centers in America. Millions of Americans worship regularly. Billions of dollars are directed to religious causes. Millions of volunteers step forward to help people in the name of God. Millions of Americans pray regularly. And millions of Americans argue passionately about religion. With all these numbers, it’s clear that religion is valued in America but not at the level the top four are valued.

There’s my list. I’m sure yours is different so maybe we can argue about something other than politics and religion, such as lists, and have some fun doing it.

Take Heart (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 06:00:00 GMT

God led the Hebrews out of Egypt, and he led them through the Red Sea. Then he instructed them to build a traveling tabernacle. They were about to begin a 40-year road trip, and they would need a reminder to worship.

But think about it: They knew nothing about the years ahead. They expected a straight shot to the Promised Land. While they were fumbling with their suitcases, God helped them pack the one essential—a prompting to worship.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. If you're on a long detour with no map, take heart—and trust the direction you receive as it comes in your worship. God knows the road . . . and he knows you . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

Hear, O Israel : The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. (Deut. 6:4-5)

The Hard Work of Reconciliation (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 06:00:00 GMT

A terrific example of the church in action is the twelve-step program. Originally, the steps were presented by Alcoholics Anonymous, but they have now been successfully introduced to many types of recovery programs. My encounters with people who attend regular sessions and take the steps seriously have shown these programs to be incredibly healthy. Of course, they’re healthy from an addiction standpoint. But there's more to it than that. Emotionally, they’re healthy. Spiritually, they’re healthy. These programs set the stage for real transformation to take place.

Recently, a friend shared his experience. His stepdaughter had been damaged by parental addiction and divorce. It had been ten years since my friend had any contact with his stepdaughter. Then came a letter. She poured out to my friend how he was the only real father she had ever known, and she wanted him in her life.

My buddy was excited and apprehensive at the same time. Even though his stepdaughter was an adult, my friend needed to get the okay from her mother before he did anything. To his great relief, his ex-wife thought it was a good idea to reach out to his stepdaughter. Then the hard work of reconciliation began.

Focusing on two steps from the twelve-step program, my friend planned how he would go about his first face-to-face meeting with his stepdaughter in ten years. He looked at steps eight and nine:

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed and become willing to make amends to them all.
9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

After making the thousand-mile journey to visit his stepdaughter, my buddy was in the home of a young wife with her own baby girl. He confessed to her the wrongs he had committed that had such a strong impact on her life. Then he asked her if there was anything he had left out. She let him know that there were some things he failed to mention. After a difficult heartfelt exchange and considerable emotional toil, there came a point where my friend felt he could ask for forgiveness.

His stepdaughter granted that forgiveness. After a decade, the healing process could begin. My friend had his daughter back, and emptiness he’d carried with him for years was replaced with joy.

This is how Jesus taught us to relate to one another. Forgive one another. Love one another. In this example, I see the church and how it functions at its relational best.

Not My Job (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

In an old sitcom, the running gag was a mechanic saying to his boss, "It's not my job." The expression became popular for shirking responsibility. When people wanted to avoid work, they would say, "It's not my job."

It's just the opposite with worry. Worry is the thing we're supposed to leave alone. Instead, we make it our job.

Jesus said firmly, "Don't worry about tomorrow." He compared worry to weeds that spring up and choke out the calming truth of God's word. He asked, "Who, by worrying, can add a single hour to his life?" He told us to replace worry with prayer and with trust.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. Not only is worry no laughing matter—it really is not our job . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life . . . But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (Matt. 6:27-33)

Joy of Forgiving (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Don't let anyone tell you forgiveness is easy. It's not.Christians know we should give up anger and resentment and hostility. But like leeches, we attach to dark emotions and feed on them. And feel righteous doing it! After all: we've been hurt.

Workplaces can be bruising—political and performance driven. We work the system, jockey for position, push for perks. We want recognition. But in the competition, we hurt and we get hurt. And the question is: how do we recover?

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. Alan Paton says "When a deep injury is done to us, we never recover until we forgive." Forgiveness is hard. But life without forgiveness is harder still—in the high calling of our daily work.

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive , and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." (Luke 6:37-38)

Working and Growing Backwards (Personal Reflection)

Jonathan Dodson — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Mark Twain humorously noted that it would be better if humans were born at the age of 80 and worked backwards. This backwards growth would afford us all the wisdom we would need to navigate the challenges of life. Another great American author F. Scott Fitzgerald picked up this idea in a short story called The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, recently popularized by the film starring Brad Pitt and Kate Blanchett.

It is an interesting idea and curious story. It seems all of us are short on wisdom, but as the Curious Case proves, even being born 80 doesn't solve all our problems. Still, what if we approached work, family, and leisure with the wisdom of our elders?

Life-Maturing Wisdom

In his book The Making of a Leader, Robert Clinton identifies six stages of a leader. The stages include: Sovereign Foundations, Inner Life Growth, Ministry (or Vocational) Maturing, Life Maturing, Convergence, Afterglow. Clinton's comments regarding our "Life Maturing" stage got me thinking about growing backwards.

He notes that this phase of life, typically occurring in our 40s, begins with intentional and extended reflection on life. This period of reflection is often forced onto us by life circumstances, a major conflict, growing children, or life crisis. What would happen if we began to cultivate these patterns of reflection at an earlier age? What kind of people, families, or communities would emerge? We might become more concerned about how God can shape us through conflict and life—and less concerned about merely navigating our conflicts and challenges. Clinton writes:

During Ministry [or Vocational] Maturing, we attempt to constructively navigate conflict; during Life Maturing, we instead tend to focus on what our conflicts say about us. Overall, relationship with God starts to become far more important to us than ministry success [or workplace success]. Ironically, as we begin to care less about the results of our ministry [or work], our effectiveness, satisfaction, and attractiveness as ministers [or employees] suddenly begins to grow. Our lives become an object of imitation. We are not merely appreciated for our work, we are admired as people.

Reflecting, Not Just Navigating, Through Conflict

Are you driven by work, family, success? Are you more concerned with managing conflict than being sanctified by conflict? How can you begin to care less about results of vocation and more about discipleship through vocation? If we want to imitate Christ, periods of reflection and prayer will be important. Imagine if we became so obsessed with God's agenda in our conflicts, challenges, and vocations that others appreciate our Christlikeness more than our "work."

Reflecting through conflict instead of merely navigating it is not a popular process. In general, our culture values success, results, and output over sanctification, maturity, and reflection. Our busy lives run against the grain of such extended times of reflection. Turning around is hard. However, the result of becoming more process-oriented and more reflective will lead us into more fruitful living, parenting, and community building.

You could start by taking a weekly walk in the woods, alone. Go to a coffee shop without a laptop or PDA. Refuse to answer emails for a day—and journal instead. Have extended discussions with your friends and spouses about what God wants to teach each of you through the challenges and conflicts of your lives.

Reflection is inspiring. Cultivate time for it. Prayer can draw us deeper into communion with God who wants to fill us with wisdom.

Living With Ambiguity (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Tue, 19 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

We long for clarity. If we just know the rules or what's expected of us, we can function within that framework. Really, we act like it's that simple. Too often, clarity is our guiding purpose in life. Our relationships are based on clarity. Work is precise. Politics is unequivocal. And church provides all the answers. Just give us the road map, and we follow it.

Unfortunately, that's not how life works. We spend much of our time dealing with the ambiguity of life and the uncertainty of what we're to do next. The black and white choices of everyday living turn into a mixture of grays, ranging from bright silver to dead charcoal.

In the Old Testament, Moses received the Decalogue at Sinai. The Israelites built a life around those rules. The Law became the focus, and justification came through the Law.

Jesus gives us something more than law. He gives us love. But it comes with less definition, less clarity. The lessons Jesus taught came in parables. They were stories that appear as ambiguous statements, but they're rooted in love.

The faithful read Jesus' parables and see not only the obvious meaning but also the deeper spiritual issues that Jesus is referring to. Others outside the faith don't see this. In the parable of the Sower, Jesus tells us that will be the case.

"though seeing, they may not see;
though hearing, they may not understand."

Today, many atheists demonstrate the truth of this statement. From Bertrand Russell to Christopher Hitchens, the arguments of atheist "intellectuals" demonstrate a fundamental misunderstanding of Christian belief. Sometimes, their arguments are just shallow. They don't know what they've never experienced, so they make assumptions. Reading their accounts can be a bit humorous to a believer. If you've never experienced something, it's difficult to explain to those who have had a profound experience why their experience is not valid.

We find ourselves today where we've always have been. Faced with the increasing complexities of life, we long for clarity. We're given faith. As we sort through ambiguity, we're focused on hope.

Short-Attention-Span Prayer (Personal Reflection)

William Griffin — Sun, 17 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Some years ago, Alan King conducted a series of interviews meant to be an oral history of comedians, especially stand-ups. In conversation with Jerry Seinfeld, King, a rather splendid comedian himself, said to his guest, “Unlike other comics today, you work clean.” By that he meant that Seinfeld didn't use the F-word or its correlatives in his routines. But later in the same interview, both used the J-word (Jesus) in a casual, expletival sort of way.

At the massive insistence of censorious Christians, traditional television networks have been bleeping the F-word right along. Oddly, they're no longer bleeping the J-word as an expletive, and the Christian audience isn't uttering a peep of protest.

As a lifelong member of the publishing community, I'm a libertarian when it comes to the use of words. Hence, I wouldn't restrict the use of the F-word or the J-word in whatever context, holy or unholy. But a personal problem arises. My whole spiritual life has been based on the word Jesus.

In Catholic elementary school, I was taught to do a head bow, albeit a modest one, every time I read or heard the name Jesus; in sixty years I haven't missed once.

I spent eight happy years as a Jesuit (member of the Society of Jesus). The religious order did nothing to exaggerate devotion to the holy name, but the name of Jesus was always surrounded with great warmth and affection.

In the New Testament, there was Philippians 2:10: “at the name of Jesus every knee should bend.” These words are now thought to come from a very early Christian hymn that was gaining popularity in Philippi.

In the fifth or sixth century, there was the Jesus prayer. As a prayer, it seems to have its source in Matthew 20, where the blind cry out twice, “Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us” (30-31). As a repetitive prayer, it gets encouragement from Jesus at the end of John, where he says to the apostles, “Up to this point, my dear friends, you haven't used my name when asking the Father for something. Use it; it works; it really works” (16:23-24).

In the fifteenth or sixteenth century, the litany of the holy name appeared; in it Jesus is invoked as, among other things, father of the poor, treasure of the faithful, good shepherd, true light, eternal wisdom, infinite goodness, our way and our life.

When all is said and done, “the name of Jesus is at the heart of Christian prayer” (Catholic Catechism, 1997). Indeed we could do worse than spend the rest of our frenzied prayer lives exploring the wonders of this holy name, but it wouldn't be easy.

In a microwave, toaster-oven sort of world, as Joan Rivers has pointed out, we stand in front of our electronic cookers, urging them to frialate faster.

In a downsizing, right-sizing sort of world, corporations make themselves leaner and their workers meaner; they have to do not only their own but the work of those who've just been laid off.

In a Jiffy Lube, SpeeDee Oil Change sort of world, we meet ourselves coming and going, but could the saints do any better?

Could John of the Cross contemplate the dark night of the soul and go through a revolving door at the same time? Could Teresa of Avila step onto an escalator in her interior castle without messing up her meditation? Could Francis of Assisi, so prone to trance, pray ecstatically and ransom captives at the same time?

Dumb questions all, but for those of us who are working stiffs in a Times Square, Tianamen Square sort of world, these examples show how difficult it is to work and pray. After all, it's a Right Guard, Ban-Roll-On sort of world we sweat in. A Bird's Eye, Burger King sort of world we eat in. A Google, Wikipedia sort of world we do our research in. A Nytol, No-Doz sort of world we try to sleep in.

However uttered, in whatever form, the sweet name of Jesus may be the last, best, short-attention-span prayer the contemporary Christian can utter from Monday through Saturday.

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.”

An afterthought:

Every blasphemy bothers me, unsettles me to the point of wanting to deck the blasphemer; alas, that would be breaking one commandment to defend another. But to maintain some sort of spiritual balance, I've had to come up with a mischievous if mystical thought. Suppose that, when the J-word is tossed around with reckless abandon during the course of a come-dressed-as-you-are bunkhouse brawl, Jesus isn't offended. Not only that, suppose he comes, as he comes to all those who utter his name in moments of need or praise. Is that so far-fetched? If the New Testament is any indication, Jesus has done some of his best work with unpromising people in questionable surroundings.

Living Water in our Daily Work (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Tue, 12 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Fountains are fun to watch. Some appear to dance when their timed streams of water shoot into the air. Others gush large flows of water that cascade down rocks or walls. They are mesmerizing and entertaining.

In the ancient world, fountains were viewed differently. They were vital resources that provided water for consumption, bathing, and healing. Ancient people were probably more in touch with the vital nature of water on a daily basis, as are people in underdeveloped countries today. In the U.S., we take water for granted because we can turn on a faucet and get water. It's very commonplace.

Springs engage us differently than do fountains. Seeping out from rocks, springs remind us of the natural course of water. They offer a sense of mystery and frailty. We're reminded that springs can dry up and disappear. We're reminded that water holds mystery for us.

Fountains and springs, these are the images presented in the Bible. Fountains are more common in the Old Testament. The Hebrew meaning of fountain is "source" or "source of flow." In the New Testament, the Greek meaning of fountain focuses on "springs" and "gush of the water." The Greek language doesn’t convey the same sense as the Hebrew.

For the Israelites, a fountain is an appropriate metaphor for their faith. God can be appropriately compared to a fountain, the source of living water. It is that expression, “living water,” which is conveyed in John 4:10-11. In Greek as well as English, it takes two words to explain this idea. The notion of a living source is not inherent in the idea of a fountain.

Just as the ancient Greek and Jewish cultures had different experiences of water as a metaphor, we today have a different view of water. Unless we’re someplace where we have to go a day without water, we don’t really feel the same visceral connection that the ancients did. Intellectually, we understand the biblical language of fountains and springs, but our identity isn’t tied to that understanding.

Along with the Greeks, we may share the mystery of the spring. That’s about as far as it goes. We find water readily available to us, and dipping into a public fountain to bathe is definitely frowned upon. So it’s important to search out new metaphors to explain our faith experience. New metaphors connect our everyday behavior with the source of all we do in the high calling of our daily work.

Describing God as the fountain of holiness doesn’t provide for us the same powerful understanding that it did for the ancient Hebrews—without God there is no existence. At TheHighCalling.org, we long to convey the same idea. Our daily work, our daily lives matter to God because he is the source of all we do. Without God, all of our efforts are meaningless. To God be the purpose, the resolve, and the admiration in all we do.

Growing Through an Economic Winter (Personal Reflection)

John Poch — Sun, 10 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

I have a little garden plot in the alley behind our house where I try to grow a few vegetables throughout the year. In the Lubbock winter, it is hard to grow much of anything, but I usually have some lettuces struggling and beets or garlic maturing for a spring harvest. I discovered, by accident, that spinach can weather temperatures into the teens, though it grows mighty slow during the winter. I had tried planting a few rows of it early one December and after a particularly hard freeze, most of it looked wiped out. I thought I'd just let it die and replant come March.

But there were about eight little seedlings that somehow survived. So instead of digging them up, I ignored them—thinking they'd die as the others had. But they held on and when spring arrived, they took off, those eight little plants. We ate spinach for weeks, even giving some away to friends.

During the cold, dry, and less sunny days of January and February, those spinach plants were establishing their roots, entrenching themselves and building below the surface. When the hard season was over and the spring rains and sunny March and April arrived, they burgeoned with the leaves fatter and greener than I'd grown in the best weather.

No soldier goes directly into battle without training and teaching, though he may be eager to defend his country. No lawyer appears before the high courts before she serves as a clerk and works smaller cases, little by little establishing a foundation in jurisprudence. And even if a soldier, lawyer, or a person in any other profession “pays his dues” and “proves himself,” there will be setbacks, periods that don't seem exactly fruitful.

But say your work does flourish; it could be too early and another cold snap could wipe you out. Last year on the high plains, we had a warm late winter when the trees went into early bloom followed by a hard freeze. There was no fruit, no pecans to be found in Lubbock or the surrounding counties.

As a writer in academia under the pressure of “publish or perish,” I only need go through a time when the words are not coming or are not getting published, and I begin to think that I'm in trouble. But even when it seems I might not be productive, I know deep down that if I'm careful, the words, sentences, and the wide-reaching roots of language are there under the surface, maturing, readying themselves for that time of harvest. I submitted my book to publishers and contests for ten years before it was finally published. My second followed four years later. My third collection of poems is following only a year after. I was working (mostly!) all along, establishing those roots below the surface, and the fruit of my labors finally came to the point of harvest. And now? Winter may be around the corner, so I need to recognize that periods of growth come in cycles. If the season is right, I am ready to plant again, do what I can, and let God and nature do their more powerful work.

Are you in a physical or spiritual or economic winter? Is the weather of your workplace an inhospitable climate where little can grow? Do what you can but realize that there are things beyond your control. Weather, for instance. Hold on. Pray. Let your faith establish itself, and let your “roots” go deeper, realizing that it might not be time to flourish. Let suffering and patience produce perseverance producing character producing hope and a bounty that you and others can feast on.

Redefining Attitude (Bible Reflection)

Al Hsu — Sun, 03 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

In the business world, "attitude" is a bit of a buzzword. One's mental attitude, whether positive or negative, healthy or unhealthy, is said to be a key factor in the success of our work projects and professional relationships. You've seen the motivational posters:

•   "A positive attitude causes a chain reaction of positive thoughts, events, and outcomes."
•   "A positive attitude is a powerful force."
•   "Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference."

While all this seems to be helpful, it is not distinctively Christian. In fact, the emphasis on an internal positive attitude can devolve into mere selfism, since it doesn't require dependence on God or others.

On the other hand, at my high school church camp, someone would occasionally yell, "Attitude check!" and all of us would respond, "Praise the Lord!" In the Christian world, it's often assumed that the proper Christian attitude is one of always being happy or joyful in the Lord—sometimes in seeming denial of challenging realities. That view also seems somewhat insufficient. Attitude has to be more than just happy feelings.

Is attitude primarily an issue of one's temperament, personality, emotion, or cognitive thinking? Is it just a mood? Can we cheer up and have a better attitude—or is it something more than that?

Our modern notions of an attitude don't seem to show up very much in Scripture. Bible versions only have a handful of references to words that are translated as "attitude."

1) Phroneo – to be like-minded

This is the most familiar, perhaps, and it occurs in Philippians 2:5, where Paul exhorts his readers that "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus" (NIV) or that "In your relationships with one another, have the same attitude of mind Christ Jesus had" (TNIV). The Greek word used here is a form of the verb phroneo, which is translated in various contexts as "have in mind" or "being like-minded" with someone else. The root word usually relates to thinking and planning with an intellectual focus.

2) Ennoia – what takes place in the mind

This word is also translated as attitude. Ennoia is in the same family as nous (meaning "mind" or "understanding") and noema ("thought"). You may be more familiar with the related Greek word metanoia, meaning "change of mind" or "repentance." Ennoia is en + noia, or "in the mind," referring to what takes place in the mind. This shows up in 1 Peter 4:1 ("Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourself also with the same attitude") and Hebrews 4:12 ("For the word of God . . . judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart").

3) Pneuma – the spirit of your mind

Bible translators have sparingly rendered this word as "attitude." Pneuma is most frequently translated as "spirit." So in Ephesians 4:23, where Paul calls us to "be made new in the attitude of your minds," that "attitude" would more literally be rendered as "the spirit of your minds."

In each of these cases, the emphasis is more mental and cognitive rather than emotional. It is something we think, not merely something we feel. Furthermore, there seems to be a strong connection between one's mental thinking and one's moral character and activity. Our attitude should be like Christ's, not merely in being mentally humble, but in taking the nature of a servant and being obedient to death (Phil. 2:7-8). It's significant that both the Philippians 2 usage of phroneo and the 1 Peter 4 use of ennoia connect a Christian's attitude with Christ's suffering.

If anything, Scripture's discussion of attitude is less about projecting a positive outlook on life and much more concerned with having a willingness to suffer as Christ suffered. For the Christian, attitude is directly connected with action, especially in taking on service-oriented, sacrificial acts.

As Max De Pree said in Leadership Is an Art, leadership means bearing the pain of the organization. That's a more biblical sense of what it means to have a Christlike attitude. Having a good attitude doesn't mean that we are chipper and happy in the face of adversity. A Christlike attitude means that because Jesus suffered, we too are willing to suffer. We do not avoid pain and difficulty; rather, we resolve to face it and bear it on behalf of others, because we know that it will serve the common good.

For the Christian, attitude is more than singing "Don't Worry, Be Happy" or "Hakuna Matata." A biblical, Christian attitude is a commitment to being more like Christ