TheHighCalling.org: Bible Reflections

God's Prescription for Workaholics

Matt Dickerson — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 06:00:00 GMT

We are a society addicted to work. Our culture worships a god of productivity, or more accurately a god of frenzied activity. Even our pastimes of supposed "recreation" are often compulsive activities that keep us busy nonstop.

Busyness is our badge of honor. We boast about how tired and overspent we are, as though it were something to be proud of. Even when we complain about being overly busy, we are often actually boasting. We want people to know we are as busy as they are—and therefore just as worthwhile.

These frenzied lifestyles are so central to our culture, but they are destructive. And unbiblical: they are costly to us as individuals, destructive of our relationships with God and one another, and damaging to the earth on which we live.

Frenzied Lifestyles Create Frenzied Relationships

It doesn't take too much effort to see this. We have the disease of frenzy. Symptoms include divorce rates and fractured homes, tension and psychological illness, shallow relationships, and massive environmental degradation. Consider the number of artificial stimulants needed just to give people "energy" to get through their busy days—and then we need more chemicals to calm them down at the end of it.

Our busyness also requires that we continue to consume and exploit resources at an unprecedented rate. Indeed, I would add that one reason many of us stay busy is to earn more money to enable us to consume more resources and satisfy more of our desires to possess. We have an endless cycle: work and consume, spend and consume, work and consume, spend and consume.

In our honest moments, we may be willing to acknowledge the cost of our busyness. But that doesn't mean we do anything about it. Even more sadly, this aspect of our culture seems as pervasive inside the church as outside. Children in Christian homes are often busier than their nonchurched peers; they have the same sports, theatre, dance, and music activities, with youth group, church, and mission trips thrown in. As for adults, we even have a spiritual sounding name for our frantic lives: we call it the "Protestant work ethic."

The Healing Power of Rest

Yet when we look at a biblical model of a godly work and godly living, we see a marked contrast. Promises of rest are central to the promises of God. Rest is part of God's plan for us. He intends it for us. Jesus promises: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." A Psalmist even associates rest with salvation: "My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him" (Ps. 62:1). On the flip side, when God removes rest, it is a punishment. When Cain kills Abel, God makes him a "restless wanderer."

Rest is good. It is necessary. It is healing. Rest is from God. The importance of rest is not just a side note of Scripture–not some trivial idea that God added as an afterthought. The importance of rest is woven into the very fabric of creation. In Genesis 2:2-3 we read, "By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done."

It is common to read the creation account of Genesis and to think humans are the culmination of creation—as though everything prior to our arrival in Eden had no other purpose except to lead to us. We think creation was completed on the sixth day. The seventh day is a sort of anti-climax that happens after the important stuff.

But the climax of creation is not the sixth day. The climax is the seventh day, the day of rest. God's rest is not a static rest, or a simple cessation of activity, but an active rest. It is a state of delight in creation. That sense of delight is part of the biblical concept of menuha (the Hebrew word for rest). God finishes his creation when he takes delight in it.

Healthy Work Includes Rest

Think through this again. God's creative work is not complete until he creates rest. Work is good. God himself works. But the culmination of work is rest—even for God! And so in Scripture we see a regular cycle of work, and then rest—a rhythm inherent in creation itself. Not just for humans, but for animals as well. Even for the land. God commanded that the land be given a rest every seven years. Nothing should be planted. In rest, we enter most fully into the appreciation of creation and thus of God's work as creator.

God tells us the best way to start enjoying the rest he intends. Obey the fourth commandment (Ex. 20:8-11): "Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates." Enjoy the Sabbath, not by sitting in a straight-backed chair reviewing a list of rules of what not to do. Don't even review the list of things you need to do. Put all of that away and rest. Delight in God's creative work: in the goodness of what he has made and given to us.

Questions for personal reflection, online discussion, or small groups:

Read and reflect on Genesis 2:1-3: "So the creation of the heavens and the earth and everything in them was completed. On the seventh day, having finished his task, God rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and declared it holy, because it was the day when he rested from his work of creation" (NLT).
Think about your struggle with the disease of frenzy. What specific symptoms have you experienced?
When do you rest? What temptations prevent you from resting?

Good Leaders Are Stewards of God's People

Vera Jackson — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 06:00:00 GMT

"Listen, Janet," Richard said in frustration, "this report is not acceptable. You need to redo it and have it on my desk by the end of the day."

After just six month's of working in his new management position, Richard was almost ready to quit. It was so much easier when he had just been in sales. He was responsible for his own performance and that was it. Now he had a team of 27 direct reports and what felt like reams of paperwork due each month. Some promotion this had turned out to be!

Richard's frustration is not unusual. Each year, thousands of workers are promoted to management in companies of all kinds with little or no training to make them successful at their new duties. Sure they know how to perform; that's why they were promoted. But how do they get others to perform?

While serving in my first management post many years ago, I learned that good leadership meant simply being a good steward over the people God had entrusted to me. We tend to think of stewardship in terms of finances and property, but it is so much more than that. What is a more precious resource in God's eyes than the people for whom he gave his Son? Shouldn't we be more concerned with how we handle them than our silver and gold?

Jesus as a Model of Management

During Jesus' time on earth, he not only taught his disciples, he also managed and supervised them. His example offers us stewardship lessons that are just as relevant today as they were 2,000 years ago. Jesus began with the basics: he knew his team (see John 10:14; John 15:16) and he made sure they knew Him (see Matt. 4:19; Matt.16:24; Luke 9:23). He both instructed and coached his disciples in their ministry work (see Matt. 5; 17:20-21; 28:19-20; Mark 4:34; 13), articulating clear expectations and demonstrating how the job was to be done. Jesus kept them mindful of the "big picture" throughout their time together: the Kingdom vision and strategic plan (see Mark 1:15, 4:11; Luke 8:10; 9:62; 22:16; John 3:3). He encouraged them (see Luke 22:32; John 16) and gave them recognition (see Matt. 16:17-18; 14-37-38; Luke 22:29; Mark 14: 33-34) for a job well done. He protected them (see Matt. 14:30-31; Mark 4:38-39; John 10:29) from those who would harm them and corrected and disciplined them (see Mark 4:40; 8:33; 6:60-67) when they needed it. His work with his disciples is perhaps the greatest demonstration of wise and just management the world has ever seen.

Jesus also led by his irreproachable character and integrity. Whatever our specific position in the marketplace, God is calling us to steward it with holiness and righteousness. We accomplish this by praying and reading our Bible so that we can have benefit of God's counsel (see Judg. 18:5; Ps. 107:11; Isa. 9:6; 25:1; Heb. 6:17) and by refusing to engage in sinful behavior. In Numbers 16, we read about the righteous stand that Moses took and how God not only supported him, but also made the correction of the people a memorable one: they were swallowed up by the earth!

Good Leaders Imitate Christ

It may look like we are giving something up when we discipline staff for performance issues or when we are required to restate the company's earnings because of a loss or mistake. However, our response to challenges like these will reveal our stewardship of both spiritual and natural matters. It will disclose how much God can count on us to be righteous representatives entrusted with his kingdom business. It will also reveal our ability and willingness to perform our jobs for the authorities set over us. The cost of failing to act responsibly can be quite enormous, perhaps resulting in the loss of an opportunity or even the loss of a job.

If someone like Richard can be mindful of Jesus' leadership lessons, he will soon find his job a lot less frustrating. He can ask himself how thoroughly he has instructed Janet about how the report should be prepared and whether he has made it clear exactly what she did wrong. More importantly, he can also make sure he recognizes Janet and others when they perform well, not just when they make mistakes. Lastly, he can work to keep the larger purpose of the department and the company—the "big picture"—before his team at all times so that they can all work together toward a common goal.

As we seek wisdom according to James 1:5, maintain righteousness, and strive for excellence in all that we do, we can become good stewards of the human, material, and financial resources that have been entrusted to us. This is a leadership standard that God has set for us through Jesus Christ—one that we are more than able to replicate with Christ as our guide (see Ps. 48:14; John 16:12-14) and our intercessor (see Rom. 8:34).

Questions for personal reflection, online discussion, or small groups:

Skim back through the many biblical references in the article and choose one to read closely. How do the truths in this passage apply to your daily work?
Think about your specific goals for this week. How can you best steward resources to work toward these goals and honor God?
In dealing with performance issues, have you been clear about your expectations? How can you be more clear?
In serving your boss, do you have a good understanding of his/her expectations for your performance? How can you understand his/her expectations better?

Dr. Vera R. Jackson is president and CEO of a nonprofit organization in the Washington, D.C., area and author of Taking Jesus to Work (Chosen/Baker Publishing Group, www.chosenbooks.com). An accomplished executive, she has senior leadership and consulting experience with government, nonprofit, and for-profit organizations. For comments and/or speaking and ministry engagements, she may be contacted by email at: vjackson@verajacksonassoc.com.

Love in Action at Work and in the World

Gary Klingsporn — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 06:00:00 GMT

American culture is a culture of narcissism. Recently, I was in a bookstore and noticed that Christopher Lasch’s book The Culture of Narcissism, published in 1979, is still in print and on the shelves after some thirty years. It is a hard-hitting critique that our culture is characterized by a “narcissistic preoccupation with the self.” We live, Lasch said, in a culture of self-absorption and entitlement, where “it’s all about us.”

I think Lasch’s book became a best-seller and remains in print today because his basic thesis has withstood the test of time. The narcissism Lasch described has not disappeared; it has merely taken on new forms. We are in love with ourselves. For example, consider our celebrity culture and the self-esteem and self-help movements that appear to be “on steroids.”

This is not a new problem. It’s as old as humankind. The ancient Greeks told the story of the vain, self-absorbed young man Narcissus, who was consumed by his own self-love and incapable of loving others. He wasted away and died, leaning over a pool looking at his reflection in the water.

In a world and culture of narcissism, one could not hear a more radically different word than the words from 1 John, “We know love by this, that Jesus laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another” (3:16).

Laying Down Our Lives at the Office and Home

But what does it mean to “lay down our lives for others”? That phrase easily evokes images of a once-in-a-lifetime noble and heroic act that most of us can’t imagine doing. We think of firefighters who enter burning buildings or rescuers who die while attempting to save others. We think of martyred saints like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Martin Luther King, Jr., or Oscar Romero who die for their faith or for speaking the truth.

Such heroic, sacrificial acts of love seem lofty and distant, but they prepare us for what the writer of 1 John says next. “Laying down our lives for others” is not at all limited to great acts of heroism or dying for a cause. To lay down one’s life for another is simply to respond to people in need: “How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses to help?” (v. 17). God calls us to open our hearts to the needs of people around us. This involves practical, concrete acts of love in the ordinary matters of everyday life.

Love Is Always Active—The Knowing and Doing Gap

The writer of 1 John further describes the call to love others by saying, “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action” (v. 18). True Christian love is grounded in the nature and character of God and in the Incarnation. Such love is not simply an emotion we feel or an idea we talk about. As God in Jesus Christ showed his suffering love for us in the painful act of laying down his life for us on the cross, we also are called to act for others. Love is something we do, not simply something we believe. It’s not pious talk, but committed action. Love sees the pain, suffering, or need of a friend, neighbor, or even an enemy, and does something about it. Love is practical and concrete, not abstract or theoretical.

Most of us have a problem with this. We know that we should love others, or we want to do something for them, but we fail to act on our intentions.

Recently I found an interesting book called The Knowing and Doing Gap (Jeffrey Pfeffer and Robert I. Sutton, Harvard Business School Press, 2000). It’s an organizational management book that explores a common problem in businesses and organizations: they know what they need to do to change or improve things, but they fail to act. The authors note that one of the main barriers to turning knowledge into action is the tendency to assume that talking about something is equivalent to actually doing it. How true I think this is of love in the Christian life. We talk about it all the time, but talk can easily become a substitute for action.

The book tells the story of a mining executive whose company was acquired by a larger corporation. Under the new management, he spent two weeks every month flying back and forth to company headquarters in Australia. While at the corporate offices, he spent most of his time sitting in a darkened room watching overhead presentations projected on a screen. There were plans, reports, and strategy presentations, but no action. He says, “I kept trying to remind my associates that we weren’t in the business of making plans and overheads, but in the business of mining and smelting copper. . . . If we had been in the business of making presentations, we would be doing a lot better than we were.” He left the company after one year.

We’ve all experienced the problem of all talk, but no action. What would it mean for you to reach out to someone in your workplace with an act of love? What are the needs of people around you at work? How can you address those needs with more than words? How can you bear witness to your faith and help create a more caring and trustworthy world? You could ask these same questions about your neighborhood, community, school, and church.

In a culture of narcissism, it’s so easy to become self-absorbed and preoccupied with our own lives.

I don’t know what there is for you and me to do this week. All I know is that there is someone who needs us. Someone needs you.

Questions for personal reflection, online discussion, or small groups:

Read 1 John 3:16-24. What does it mean to lay down our lives for others in the office or workplace? In the neighborhood and community, at school, or at home?
What are the needs of people around you at work? How can you address those needs with more than words?
What would it mean for you to reach out to someone in your workplace with an act of love? How can you bear witness to your faith and help create a more caring and trustworthy world?
Consider some practical ways to encourage people this week:
o Send an email
o Write a card
o Make a call
o Show up in someone’s office door
o Get together for lunch or coffee
o Invite someone to your home
o Listen with your undivided attention

Male-Female Relationships in the Workplace

Mary E. DeMuth — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 06:00:00 GMT

We met in another city over lunch to talk about social media. He spoke of his wife; I talked about my husband and family. Our conversation began a good professional relationship that continues.

Another business acquaintance shared dinner around a table with other professionals. He commented on how I looked, letting his eyes linger. I got that sick feeling in my stomach, making the choice to avoid this man. We've not maintained a business relationship.

In the professional world, we encounter people of the opposite sex on a daily basis. How we navigate those relationships with integrity is important. Some create strict guidelines while others avoid guidelines at all. The crux, as in everything, is to honestly seek God as we navigate our opposite sex relationships. Here are five questions to ask yourself as you evaluate your professional interactions:

1. Would I be completely at ease if my spouse saw my interaction with this person?

Thinking through how my meeting (or email interactions) would affect my spouse is a huge indicator of what I should do and how I should act. Those who are single can ask that same question of their best friend. Would he/she think my conversations or messaging with this person demonstrates integrity?

When I meet with male colleagues, I let my husband know. I tell him when I have phone meetings. A good friend of mine CCs his wife on correspondence with me, and he talks with her about me.

The apostle Paul has some wise words for every area of life, including our relationships with the opposite sex: "Only conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or remain absent, I will hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel" (Phil. 1:27). Even Paul uses the "other person" test here. He tells the Philippians that he will hear of their antics, whether they're standing firm or not.

2. How does the way I interact show my belief in the equality between men and women in God's eyes?

It's important we don't shun the opposite sex out of fear, relegating ourselves to same-sex relationships for the sake of perceived propriety. Paul wrote: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free man, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus" (Gal. 3:28). Because of Jesus' radical act on the cross, he created equity in every sector of society, including the sexes. And by his grace and integrity, we can pursue professional relationships with the opposite sex.

The workplace is typically not segregated. Neither is the church. We will best reflect the heart of God and his love for all people if we walk alongside men and women at work. I'm grateful for my male colleagues, appreciative of their perspectives. I wouldn't be where I am professionally without input from both genders.

3. Am I creating significant emotional boundaries by building into my marriage (or if I'm single, my friendships) and speaking well of my family?

The best way to maintain your integrity in your opposite-sex relationships is to keep the home fires burning. If you spend time building into your marriage or significant relationships, seeking your partner's good, choosing selflessness, your need to look elsewhere for praise and validation will wane.

The best boundary I've found is not necessarily a physical one; it's an emotional one. I feel safe when a businessman talks about his family frequently, when he praises his spouse publicly.

4. Am I keeping secrets?

Are you relishing a coworker's emails? Looking forward to a lunch break? Do you harbor feelings for someone? The painful way out is this: Walk in the light. If you're keeping secrets, something is wrong. I know it may hurt but make a choice to tell your spouse or a very good friend. If you struggle in this area, give a friend permission to ask the hard questions.

5. Have I decided on mutual boundaries with my spouse or accountability partner?

Decide together what kind of boundaries you'll both approve. Some might include: no car rides alone, quick disclosure if you feel someone's getting too close, full access to both email accounts at any time, the ability to question any attachment. It's better to go forward in your professional life with a boundary plan than to have to encounter uncomfortable situations without forethought. Plan now. And remember, that plan will actually free you to interact with integrity in all your relationships.

It is possible to have integrity in our business relationships. And as we interact well with our colleagues, we demonstrate the uncanny truth that God loves all people, male and female, that it's possible to keep business interactions pure.

Questions for Reflection:

Think about your professional interactions with the opposite sex. Would your spouse or a close Christian friend think your conversations and messages demonstrate integrity?
Read Mark Roberts' devotion on Exodus 20:14. Why do you think sexual sin is such a plague in our society?
In our interview with Lauren Winner, she says, "Sexual temptation often gets used as an excuse not to have meaningful professional relationships with the opposite sex. If the men won't have lunch with women, that promotes an old boy's network that is really bad for women in the workplace." How can you help promote fairness and equality in your workplace?
Are you facing sexual temptation in the workplace? We urge you to get help now. Talk with a trusted counselor, pastor, or Christian friend.

God Calls Us to Be Leaders Wherever We Are

Gary Klingsporn — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 06:00:00 GMT

My wife Debra and I were sitting on a park bench overlooking a small lake. We were having our morning coffee and talking about the day ahead—the ordinary stuff of life. When our two daughters' names came up, Debra suddenly paused and got a faraway look in her eyes.

After a long silence she said: "My job description as I've known it as a mother for the last twenty years is coming to an end. Soon I'll no longer be able to bury my face in the smell of their soft morning wake-up hair. I won't be running last-minute things up to the school anymore. They won't come bounding in the door, full of life, at the end of the day. The defining priorities of my life as a 'mom' will end. My world is about to be redefined. I don't know what my new job description is going to be."

Then with a tear in her eye she said, "There's a loss in that."

Together we sat in the silence of the morning sun, the wind on the water, the trees stirring in the breeze. Debra had just named our new reality as empty nesters. In its own strange way, that moment became a sacred moment. Something holy happened. In an ordinary conversation on an ordinary morning, we suddenly felt the presence of God.

The story is about calling and vocation. It's about the extraordinary breaking into the ordinary. It's about hearing and responding to the call of God in our lives.

In Exodus 3, Moses was herding ordinary sheep on an ordinary day in the wilderness of Sinai. There was a bush—an ordinary, scrubby bush. Suddenly the holy happened. Everything was transformed. Nothing in Moses' life was ever the same again.

Calling, vocation, purpose is often revealed through our own experience of the call of God. It is always a sacred or holy moment, no matter how small.

When the Holy Happens

When we experience God's presence, or God speaks to us, all is transformed. He tells Moses, "Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground" (Exo. 3:5).

God's holiness requires respectful distance, but God's presence also transforms everything at hand. The burning bush in the barren, lonely desert of Sinai is a sign that God often comes and graces the lowly. He appears in the common places of life.

We can experience God's presence anywhere, anytime, at work, school, home. God's presence happens to ordinary people going about their ordinary routines. So it's important to be watching and listening for those moments. It is the only way to avoid the common disconnect between our faith and our daily life and work.

The words of Frederick Buechner come to mind:

"Taking your children to school and kissing your wife goodbye. Eating lunch with a friend. Trying to do a decent day's work. Hearing the rain patter against the window. There is no event so commonplace but that God is present within it, always hiddenly, always leaving you room to recognize him or not to recognize him, but all the more fascinatingly because of that, all the more compellingly and hauntingly. . . . Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness—touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it—because in the last analysis, all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace" (Now and Then, Harper & Row, 1983, p. 87).

God Calls Us

God does call Moses to a specific task. He says, "I have seen the suffering of my people in Egypt; I have heard their cry; and I have come down to deliver them. . . . So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people out of Egypt" (Exo. 3:7-8, 10). There is work to be done.

The specific tasks of our work are part of our calling and vocation. Martin Luther saw all means of livelihood and productive work—even the most mundane and unpleasant labor—as marks of Christian vocation and response to God. John Calvin said that all our actions, not just our work, are a response to God's calling. Taken seriously, this means that our work and all we do in daily life are our vocation. All work given us by God is therefore holy and is done as a service to God.

In our day, Parker Palmer has spoken of the importance of listening inwardly for the call of God: "Vocation does not come from willfulness. It comes from listening. . . . Vocation does not mean a goal that I pursue. It means a calling that I hear. . . . It comes from a voice 'in here' calling me to be the person I was born to be, to fulfill the original selfhood given me at birth by God" (Let Your Life Speak, Jossey-Bass 2000, pp. 4, 10).

The story of Moses invites us to take off our shoes and listen for the voice of God's call, God's guidance, and reassurance. God told Moses, "So come, I will send you to bring my people out of Egypt."

What is your calling, your vocation? What is the work to which God calls you? Are you living out your calling?

It is helpful to think in terms of your various callings in your work, relationships, leisure, family, and community. In his book, Vocation: Discerning Our Callings in Life, Douglas Schuurman distinguishes the primary calling of all Christians to love God and neighbor, from the multiple particular callings in which we carry out the command to love.

Are you living out your callings in your different roles in life?

But Who Am I?

Moses' initial response to God was, "Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?" (Exo. 3:11). What a human moment! The call was overwhelming and filled with risk. Moses felt fearful and inadequate. He was reluctant to go.

Don't we all feel that way at one time or another? Just as it isn't always easy to hear God's call in our lives, it isn't easy to live out our call. But we don't have to do it on our own, nor can we.

God tells Moses, "I will be with you" (v. 12). While in the remainder of the story Moses offered further objections to the divine call, eventually he goes. God's "I will be with you" sustained him from the mud-pits of Egypt all the way to Mt. Nebo.

The story of God's call in Moses' life invites us to reflect on our own calling and vocation. Our work and all we do in daily life are a response to God's call. We discern our calling and vocation by listening for God, and we are promised God's presence as we live our call daily.

That same promise of divine presence gives us hope in our journeys. Created, redeemed, and called by God, we also are given the assurance of God's presence and power every step of the way. And that makes all the difference.

Questions for personal reflection, online discussion, or small groups:

Have you ever had a "burning bush" experience? Recall a time in your life when you felt God's presence in a strong way.
What is your calling, your vocation? What is the work to which God calls you? Are you living out your calling?
We all wear several hats. Are you living out your callings in your different roles in life?

God's Beloved at Work

Gary Klingsporn — Sun, 11 Oct 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Last year, Time photographer Anthony Suau caught a picture of a well-dressed man in a business suit standing in the middle of Wall Street. He was in front of the New York Stock Exchange on October 10, 2008, throwing his hands into the heavens in dismay as stock prices melted down. The picture vividly captured the anxiety and uncertainty of people during a difficult time in America. An accompanying article spoke of "the signs of trouble" everywhere, from For Sale and Foreclosure signs on the lawns of suburban homes to losses of jobs, savings, and retirement. The article read, "The dark mood grew darker as the months ticked by and the credit crunch driving the U.S. economy's slow-motion topple accelerated into a full-blown crash."

We all experience life like that at one time or another. For any number of personal reasons (health, stress, aging, grief, loss) we all stand like that man, looking up, our hands lifted to the heavens. We all experience pain, loss, vulnerability, the uncertainty of the future. These are difficult and painful realities of human life as we experience them.

The Beloved: Who Jesus Is and Who We Are

In Mark's Gospel, the story of Jesus' baptism can help us address these painful experiences. When Jesus comes to the Jordan River to be baptized, a heavenly voice says, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." From the very beginning of the story, Mark wants us to know who Jesus is: Son of God and Servant of all.

The primary thrust of the baptism story is Christological—to reveal Jesus' identity as the Beloved of God. In his baptism, we see who Jesus is, but we also begin to learn who we are as followers of Jesus. In our baptism that same voice comes to us and says, "You are my Beloved." When we rise from the waters of baptism, we are named God's beloved sons and daughters. In a world filled with all kinds of other voices, in our baptism God gives us a new name, a new identity, as sheer gift. Our new identity has profound implications for the way we understand our lives.

(See Henri Nouwen's Life of the Beloved as one example of the development of this theme.)

The Gift of God's Power and Spirit

Mark says that Jesus saw "the Holy Spirit descending like a dove on him." As Jesus is given the gift of God's Spirit in baptism, so in our baptism God gives us the gift of the Spirit—the promise of God's enabling and empowering presence in our lives. For example, the Holy Spirit is the sustaining presence and the animating power of God at work in the life of the church and the individual. The Spirit gives us guidance and the unique gifts (charisma) we need to conduct our daily lives and work.

So in those times in our lives when we stand with our arms lifted to the heavens, looking up in fear, pain, grief, or uncertainty (the man on Wall Street), there is always that Voice saying to us, whether we can hear it or not: "You are my Beloved—my son, my daughter. I have put my Spirit upon you. I am with you always."

We Are Sent Daily to Live Our Calling

Blessed with our identity as "the Beloved," and given the gift of the Holy Spirit, we are sent to do God's work in the world. The rest of Mark's Gospel describes how Jesus fulfilled the mission given to him by God. We also are sent daily to live out the callings God has given us. Martin Luther said that our baptism is the sign of God's call to live out our faith in our daily work, our families, and relationships. In baptism, we are called to a common vocation—to serve God by loving and serving our neighbor. Luther said it this way:

"Only look at your tools, your needle, your thimble, your beer barrel, your articles of trade, your scales, your measures, and you will read this saying written on them. . . . 'My dear, use me toward your neighbor as you would want him to act toward you with that which is his'" (quoted in Barbara Brown Taylor, The Preaching Life, Cowley 1993, p. 29).

In other words, our everyday work is God's work. In baptism we are set apart as God's people to share Christ's ministry in the world. Each of us has a calling from God. Barbara Brown Taylor goes on to describe every Christian's divine vocation "to see the hand of God at work in the world and to see one's own hands as necessary to that work. Whether those hands are diapering an infant, assembling an automobile, or balancing a corporate account, they are God's hands, claimed by God at baptism for the accomplishment of God's will on earth."

The Voice Is Always There

When life becomes difficult and the way grows dark. When we hurt and fail one another, or lose someone we love. When faith grows dim. When our work grows wearisome. When we face an uncertain future. When we lift our hands to the heavens in fear or pain—like the man on Wall Street—the Voice is always there: "You are my Beloved, gifted by my Spirit, called and sent to join me at work in the world. Do not fear, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by name, you are mine. You are precious in my sight and honored, and I love you. Do not fear, for I am with you" (Isa. 43:1-5). "Beloved" is our name. And that makes all the difference!

Questions for Reflection:

Read the story of Jesus' baptism in Mark 1:9-11. What does this teach us about the identity of Jesus? Who do you believe Jesus is?
Have you been baptized? If so, remember the experience. How can you act more like God's beloved child this week?

Modeling Christ in the Workplace Through Work Well Done

Matthew Alexander — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Ben Edwards, the former CEO and chairman of A. G. Edwards, led his company to become one of the ten largest brokerage firms in the nation. He was also known to be a committed Christian and man of integrity. Whether on or off the job, he lived in line with a higher moral standard, and he found that higher standard in the Bible.

A Christian Leader in the Workplace

A friend of mine who worked for A. G. Edwards told me that their CEO was involved in Bible studies for professionals and was intentional about encouraging others to know and love God. He lived generously by investing his time, talent, and money into other humans as he helped to build Christ's Kingdom here on earth. He was active in his local church, in missions, and with Covenant Theological Seminary in St. Louis.

His executive style and formula for success were based on Jesus' Golden Rule: Treat people the way you'd want to be treated. He taught his executive team, managers, and investment advisors to practice the following simple principle: place the clients first, the employees second, and the shareholders third. He believed if you took care of the first two, the shareholders would be rewarded.

From Abstract Principles to Business Plans

To be true to these principles, Ben Edwards didn't allow A. G. Edwards to engage in several profit centers common in the financial services industry such as creating proprietary products or trading its own accounts, because they may have put the firm's interests ahead of the client's. He encouraged his financial advisors to offer only the best products and services in the business—not just to those that paid the firm or for the advisor with the biggest commissions.

His plan worked. Under his stewardship, the company grew from 40 offices to 700 nationwide with a reputation of excellence and integrity. The company was on Fortune magazine's annual list of “100 Best Companies to Work for in America” for ten straight years.

All Good Work Serves God

Dorothy Sayers often said that all work done well and for God's glory is Christian work. This means we model Christ in the workplace best when we perform our work so well and with such a good attitude that we inspire others to desire to know and worship God.

Paul explained it like this: “Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve” (Col. 3:23-24).

Christians in the workplace should be motivated by our desire to glorify God and to inspire others to desire to know him. Work done well is uncommon, and it will be noticed by our colleagues and clients or patients.

God is honored when the products we create and the services we provide are excellent, based on the simple values of care, competence, and consistency. We are to care about the welfare of our clients. We are to pursue a high level of competency to enable us to deliver high quality products and services. And we should be consistent in our pursuit of excellence.

Our Work Is Also Evangelism

Those who don't know Christ may be inspired to seek him. And those who have turned their back on the church and Christianity, perhaps due to a previous bad experience with other Christians, may be influenced to reconsider Christianity.

It is too common to experience other Christians in the workplace who talk the talk but don't walk the walk. They talk about morality and Christian stuff, but their work is lousy and their attitudes are poor. They may deliver poor product to the client or treat clients poorly or complain about their jobs or slander colleagues. Such negative behavior hurts workplace morale, undermines work relationships, and adversely affects clients.

Instead, we are called to serve our clients with excellence. The quality of a Christian's work and attitude should be different from the quality of work and attitude of those who don't know Jesus. We are working for him, and therefore our work should be good. Clients should be able to clearly see the quality and value of our goods and services.

In their excellent book Your Work Matters to God, Douglas Sherman and William Hendricks write:

The key to bringing the culture and the church back together, to renewing the workplace and reforming the church—may well be a movement of people who are known for their hard work, for the excellence of their effort, for their honesty and unswerving integrity, for their concern for the rights and welfare of people, for the quality of the goods and services produced, for their leadership among coworkers—in short, for their Christ-likeness on and off the job. What could an army of such workers accomplish?

Doing excellent work with a good attitude is the right thing to do, and it is an excellent way to let our light shine on a hill so others may see it.

Questions for personal reflection, online discussion, or small groups:

Read Col. 3:23-24 again. Who do you consider your boss? How can you work for that person as if working for the Lord?
What does it look like to “love your neighbor” when your neighbor is a coworker, employer, customer, patient, student, or client?
How can we accept responsibility for doing good work with a good attitude, without rationalizing our way to workaholism and burn out?

Keeping Self-Sufficiency in Check

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.)

Fear Buster

Paul Seebeck — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 06:00:00 GMT

A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, "If you choose, you can make me clean." Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, "I do choose. Be made clean!" Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. After sternly warning him he sent him away at once, saying to him, "See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them." But he went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.
Mark 1:40-45, NSRV

What are you most afraid of? I don't think I need to mention out loud all of the unspoken fears that are present with us in the inner sanctuaries of our lives. Just a few months ago, we were all afraid of the swine flu. I heard stories of people who sneezed and entire grocery store aisles cleared out.

This gospel passage speaks about what fear does to us and how God responds to our fear. Imagine for a moment what it would've been like to have leprosy in the first century. The man in the first chapter of Mark has lost his job, family, community, security, everything. He is desperate.

The Old Testament law was quite clear—any person with leprosy was to wear torn clothing, keep their hair unkempt, cover their upper lip and cry, "Unclean, Unclean!" Even worse, they were to live alone as outsiders, away from the camp of the Israelites. By coming to see Jesus, this man is breaking the law and could be stoned if caught by the religious zealots.

In this context of deathly fear, Jesus speaks grace and truth. The man approaches Jesus, kneels, and says, "If you choose, you can make me clean." Notice what fear and loss expose in the leper—any illusion of control is broken, gone.

Then Jesus chooses. Love and mercy meet in a great action statement of compassion: "I do choose," Jesus says—demonstrating that God is trustworthy, beyond all our loss and fear—"be clean."

Jesus then tells the man to go to a priest for a ceremonial cleansing, making a clear distinction between being healed from a disease and being made whole. Through the ritual of cleansing, this man would be restored back into the community of faith. According to the law, even though he had been healed, he would be ceremonially unclean until it happened. Jesus didn't just want to heal this man physically. He offered spiritual, social, and communal wholeness. God knows that people can be healed from sickness and go right back to their ways of living in fear. Our fears of rejection, isolation, and loss distort our sense of wholeness, driving us into destructive behavior that makes our fears come true. It is a vicious cycle, and it isolates us.

This gospel story reminds me of the 2008 movie Gran Torino. Clint Eastwood plays Walt Kowalski, a Korean War veteran who lives in a changing Michigan neighborhood that increasingly is dominated by Asian immigrants. In one scene, Kowalski's neighbor says to him, "You are a good man." He blows it off with a gruff, "some people would say otherwise" or something to that effect—he sounded just like my father.

But these words of love and grace speak to Walt's fear and self-hatred for killing innocent Asians in the Korean War. His relationship with his neighbors, previously limited by his own prejudice and hatred, deepens. Walt couldn't reach his own children, and he feels terrible about that. But he ends up a player in God's goodness and reaches out to save an entire neighborhood. It is an incredibly redemptive story of the gospel.

God is with us in our fear and loss of control. In the grace and truth of Jesus, God chooses to make us whole so that we might live beyond all fear in our daily lives.

Find Work that Fits You

Al Hsu — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 06:00:00 GMT

My high school friends were a microcosm of school society. Eric was a photographer and yearbook editor. Ann was a leader in the marching band. Bill was the lead actor in theatre productions. Laura was in the dance line. Jeff was co-captain of the track team. Carol was co-captain of volleyball and synchronized swimming. Dan was in speech and debate.

Me? I lettered in debate and theatre, and I ran track for a while. I also participated in things like academic decathlon and science olympiad. But my senior year, my primary involvement and identity was as an editor for the school newspaper. I had published a poem back in first grade in our school district's poetry compendium, and I had always loved reading and writing. So the school paper became my niche.

Why did my friends and I gravitate to certain interests and not others?

Some of it was parental influence. Teachers and coaches may have encouraged us to try out for certain activities. And, of course, peers had something to do with it. I never would have run track if my friends had not also been on the team. But to a large extent, we all had certain gifts and talents that geared us in some directions rather than others.

Some people distinguish between gifts and talents. They say that gifts are those natural, innate, God-given abilities to excel in certain areas, whether intellectual, artistic, or athletic. And talents might be thought of as skills that can be acquired and learned, regardless of inherent ability. I'm not sure it's quite that clear cut, but I do recognize that people have different gifts and talents.

This seems to have been the case from the very beginning. Genesis 4:2 says that Abel was a keeper of sheep and Cain a tiller of the ground. We don't know why they differentiated as they did; perhaps Adam and Eve assigned them these tasks arbitrarily, and they learned to do them. Or maybe as children Abel always loved animals, while Cain was a budding agriculturalist. We have no idea. But either way, they were shaped and formed to particular vocations.

Later, Genesis 4 mentions others who differentiated their work based on particular giftedness or interests. Jabal is described as the ancestor of those who live in tents and have livestock. His brother Jubal was the ancestor of those who play the lyre and pipe. And Tubal-Cain made all kinds of bronze and iron tools. We know next to nothing of these folks, but we can surmise that Jubal was a skilled musician and that Tubal-Cain was a skilled metalworker. Could they have traded places and careers? Perhaps. But the fact that they are recorded with these particular traits suggests that they excelled in those areas.

The New Testament likewise shows that we all have different gifts and interests. Acts 6 notes that some were called to serve in the distribution of food while others were devoted to prayer and ministries related to the Word of God. Romans 12:4 says, "For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function." Ephesians 4 and 1 Corinthians 12 list a variety of gifts that Christians might have.

Books like Parker Palmer's Let Your Life Speak and David Benner's The Gift of Being Yourself encourage us to listen to our lives and discern how God has gifted us and shaped us. None of us can do everything. But all of us can do something. The key is to do things that are consistent with how we are gifted. Not all that we do will line up entirely with any job or career. But the greater the overlap between our giftedness and our work, the more satisfaction we are likely to have.

My high school friends ended up in a variety of careers and vocations. Yearbook editor Eric is now a physics teacher. Marching band leader Ann is a nursing educator. Track captain Jeff is an Air Force fighter pilot. Bill is an actor in New York City, and Dan uses his public speaking skills as a campus minister. While I have not run anything close to a 400-yard dash in decades, I am still an editor, working in the publishing industry, and I still find satisfaction and fulfillment through the crafting and shaping of words.

May we all find work that fits who we are and how God created us to be.

Glass Houses and Broken Windows

Gina Conroy — Sun, 06 Sep 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Many of us don't think much about communicating on the Internet. When we fire off an email, leave a comment, or post an update, we leave a trail. Our words are there for all to see. And with Facebook, Twitter, and blogging, communication has never been faster.

Communication online is like living in a glass house, except we have more power to create the person others see. Some fabricate an identity, and others choose to be authentic. Whatever your internet persona, when others meet us in real life, they'll expect us to be the same person they met on their computer. That's why conducting ourselves with authenticity is so important online and off.

The apostle Paul did not have the luxury of sending emails or blogging the gospel (I'm sure he would have if given the opportunity), but he knew the importance of presenting himself with integrity and consistency. In one letter he told the Corinthians,

"Since God has so generously let us in on what he is doing, we're not about to throw up our hands and walk off the job just because we run into occasional hard times. We refuse to wear masks and play games. We don't maneuver and manipulate behind the scenes. And we don't twist God's Word to suit ourselves. Rather, we keep everything we do and say out in the open, the whole truth on display, so that those who want to can see and judge for themselves in the presence of God" (2 Cor. 4: 1-2, The Message).

Paul lived what he wrote. Though others accused him of being inconsistent, he preached the same gospel in his letters as he did in person. More than that, he tried to be the same person on paper as he was in person.

"What's this talk about me bullying you with my letters? 'His letters are brawny and potent, but in person he's a weakling and mumbles when he talks.' Such talk won't survive scrutiny. What we write when away, we do when present. We're the exact same people, absent or present, in letter or in person" (2 Cor. 10:8-11, The Message).

Paul lived in a glass house and knew people had their noses pressed to the window, watching and scrutinizing his every word and deed. He knew the importance of integrity in sharing the gospel and how it needed to match up to his life. He knew inconsistency in his life would discredit his reputation and hurt the advancement of the gospel.

We shouldn't expect our internet activities to be as significant as Paul's, but we still need to present ourselves with authenticity, void of exaggerations and deceit. This is not a call for exhibitionism. I'm not advocating airing our dirty laundry but rather representing and conducting ourselves with truth and honor. We should follow Paul's example whether we're emailing coworkers, blogging about Jesus, or twittering about our lives.

Michael Hyatt, CEO of Thomas Nelson Publishers, has a similar admonishment for those in the publishing field. "People are not going to get away with embellishing the facts much longer. It's just too easy to validate the claims. So how do you survive in this brave new world of total transparency? Simple. Tell the truth." He offers some wise words and tips for living in a transparent world, and his advice applies to anyone doing business via the Internet.

Jesus preached the same message. Let your yes be yes, and your no be no. Even though Paul's glass house didn't encompass the World Wide Web, we can learn from his wisdom. Integrity and consistency should be the cornerstone of any business, whether professional or personal, on the Internet or in person. There's no going back. Globalization and the Internet have put us all in glass houses. People are watching us. If they don't like what they see or feel they've been deceived, they aren't afraid to break windows.

Selling Out or Just Selling?

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?

A Godly Place to Sit

Jon Swanson — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 06:00:00 GMT

My friend and I were meeting at church for a time of personal accountability. So we sat in some chairs in one of the large "milling around" spaces.

He said, "I love to sit in these chairs."

The chairs are nice enough. They have fabric seats and wooden arms and would fit very well in a coffee house. They are perfect "big public space" chairs. I like them, but I don't love to sit in them.

"I love to sit in these chairs," my friend insisted. "Wakefield makes the arm caps."

Suddenly, I understood what he was saying. Brian runs Wakefield, the company that supplies part of the armrest—the arm cap—for the chairs. His company doesn't do anything else for the chairs; they don't make the legs, or the framework or the fabric. They are not part of the overall design process. All they do is make the arms.

And he loves the chairs.

One day, the Apostle Paul wrote a letter to a church he'd never visited. He loved the group of people because he loved the one who taught them. He knew they were growing; he knew they were working to figure out what following Jesus really means . And he told them, "Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him" (Col. 3:23).

Paul could have been talking about Brian. He has committed himself to learning every day what it means to do everything, including running a wood company, in the name of Jesus. Brian loves his business, cares about his employees, and he is rightfully pleased to be part of a great product.

Of course, Brian is human and faces the challenges that all managers face. He sometimes has to ask forgiveness. He sometimes struggles with exactly what to say. Sometimes he has to let people go. He prays often during his day. But he ends up with chairs that he loves to sit in.

The more I thought about Brian, the more I had to examine the way I approach my own work. When people take what I supply and fold it into their own product or service or setting, do I love the end result? Or am I fearful that the quality of my part is shabby or am I complaining that they used it wrong or am I jealous that no one will know what I did because someone else's name is on it?

Brian and I sat and talked out our lives that night, confessing to each other, praying for each other. The chairs, with their Brian-built arms, made a perfect place to give thanks to God.

Because of Brian, I love those chairs too.

Questions for Reflection:

Read Col. 3:23 again: "Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." Think about the product or service that you provide in your daily work. How does it honor God?
Who helps you in your work? Do you take pride in the end result of the team, or only your own portion?
How can we approach the people around us with a spirit of encouragement rather than a spirit of complaint or jealousy?

Repairing the Marketplace

Vera Jackson — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 06:00:00 GMT

The book of Nehemiah opens with a "state of the union"-like assessment of Israel following Babylonian captivity. The bedraggled remnant is in a state of "great affliction and reproach" and "the walls are broken down" (see Neh. 1:1-3). Nehemiah was not a complainer but a problem solver. He took these issues to God in prayer and after receiving direction set about the long and arduous task of rebuilding the broken walls.

Nehemiah might assess the condition of believers in the modern workplace with similar descriptions. Certainly we can all think of many examples of "great affliction" at work, as well as "great reproach." It is also easy to think of places where the "walls are broken down." The walls of civility and morality—walls that once guarded our behaviors and protected our souls—are now in disrepair wherever we look.

Tools for Repair

God has sent each of us to our unique professional subculture to carry his Good News, to fulfill our marketplace assignments with professional excellence and to demonstrate an uncompromising devotion to him. Today that devotion requires we go beyond our formal job descriptions, being open to minister to those around us as God leads.

The picture painted in Nehemiah 3 is an exciting one. Thousands of laborer-warriors are grouped by family and clan, working together to rebuild the walls. We too can work to rebuild civility, morality, and integrity in the marketplace by being salt and light. No one person has the capacity to repair all that ails institutions and individuals, but each of us can take our place on the wall and perform the work that God has called us to do.

Once, my work on the wall involved Jacob who had lost his job because of sin. Although Jacob had followed biblical principles regarding spiritual restoration, his family was on the verge of losing everything they owned because no one would hire him. After an extended period of prayer, I believe God instructed me to hire Jacob. Jacob humbled himself and accepted my job offer at a much lower pay rate than his previous position. Yet his heart was encouraged, his character strengthened, and he was able to modestly contribute to the needs of his family. After two years of faithful work, Jacob accepted a job with a major salary increase at another company. The God of "second chances" used me to help repair a broken man who desperately needed a new start—and the footing to take his place on the wall!

Here are six steps for working on the wall as described in the acrostic R-E-P-A-I-R.

R – Repent: The first step is to repent for neglecting our responsibilities—for missing opportunities to demonstrate God's love, grace, and mercy (see 1 John 1:9). We must also reject the mindset of a captive and become the watchmen God has called us to be (see Isa. 62:6; Luke 21:36).
E – Entreat: The second step is to entreat God in prayer for our superiors and coworkers, earnestly seeking guidance for responding to them (see Luke 11:9-13,1 Thess. 5:17). As we take our places on the wall, we may see large industry changes on the horizon or something as small as the fact that the usually cheery receptionist seems depressed.
P – Persevere: The third step is to persevere while on the wall (see James 1:1-4). At times, the view may be overwhelming and distracting. Trials will inevitably come too, but the assurance that the Word of God provides is our reward for faithfulness (see Heb. 10:36, James 1:12).
A – Attitude: The fourth step is to make certain our work on the wall is performed with a Christlike attitude (see Phil. 2:5). When we do this, our superiors and coworkers will be drawn to the light of God's love and truth.
I – Integrity: The fifth step is to be a living witness of integrity and righteousness where we work. We stand as God's representatives entrusted with a message of hope and salvation (see Matt. 5:16; 2 Cor. 5:20).
R – Rejoice: The final step is a commitment to cultivate the inner joy that comes from God himself (see Neh. 8:10). When we protect this joy, we will find that others are quickly drawn to the Jesus in us.

There is a righteous call for you and me to be a Nehemiah in our marketplaces. None of us is responsible for repairing the walls alone, but we can all be found faithful where Christ has assigned us.

___________________________________

Dr. Vera R. Jackson is president and CEO of a nonprofit in the Washington, D.C., area and author of Taking Jesus to Work (Chosen/Baker Publishing Group, www.chosenbooks.com). She may be reached by email at vjackson@verajacksonassoc.com.

Finding Solid Ground in Slender Times

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.

They Came Anyway

Christopher Smith — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 06:00:00 GMT

"Someone just triggered the silent alarm," our bank manager called out from behind the teller windows. He studied his console a moment longer and then announced, pointing at me, "It was him."

It was my very first day on the job, working for the loan officers in this branch. To get familiar with my new surroundings, I'd been checking out the various drawers and cubbyholes in my desk. I found a button that looked like it would open a latched door, but when I pushed it, nothing happened. Or so I thought. It had actually been the alarm.

"The police are going to come," the manager warned us. "Everybody get ready. Go to your desks and sit with your hands in plain sight. Don't make a move, and don't say anything." (Fortunately there were no customers in the branch at the time.)

"Can't you just call and tell them it's a false alarm?" I asked.

He chuckled. "They come anyway."

Of course they do. If real bank robbers found out an alarm had been triggered, the first thing they'd do was make the manager call and say it was a mistake.

Within moments, police officers came rushing through both entrances to the bank. They had their hands on their holsters so they could draw their guns instantly if they were needed. But they slowed their pace when they surveyed the tranquil scene.

The manager stepped forward. "Sorry, guys," he said, "false alarm. But thanks so much for coming."

The officers smiled. They knew the manager from patrolling the area, and they'd apparently had to respond to false alarms before. "Glad it's nothing," they said. "You know we're here if you need us."

They went back to their work, and we went back to ours. I kept telling myself that my second day on this job would have to be better than the first! But in one sense, it had actually been a good day. I learned an important lesson from those officers. They "came anyway."

In our daily work, we often don't expect anything to interrupt the routine. We don't suspect that emergencies or breakthroughs could be waiting behind ordinary-looking assignments. But they just might be. That's why we need to fulfill each task we're given faithfully. We may think a prospect won't be interested, but we still need to make the sales call. If we're working security, we need to check every door, even the one that's been locked every time before. If the numbers are off by even a little, we need to find out why.

The Bible tells how Elijah once commanded his servant to go and check the sky for rain, while he prayed (1 Kings 18:42-44). The land of Israel was in the midst of a prolonged drought, and the servant likely expected to find the sky clear, which he did. When Elijah sent him out a second time, he found the same thing. This kept happening each time he went. After a while, he could easily have decided he could report a clear sky without even checking. But God was about to send a great rainstorm. It would end the drought, show God's mercy, and demonstrate the power of prayer (James 5:6-18). The king and people needed to know well in advance that the storm was coming so they would acknowledge that God had sent it, and so they could take shelter.

Fortunately, the servant kept checking faithfully, and on his seventh trip, he saw a small cloud. When he reported this to Elijah, the prophet recognized this was the harbinger of the great storm. He immediately warned the king and people. God was glorified, and the people were kept safe, because this servant "came anyway."

We can do the same each day.

The Anxiety Master

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.

The Call to Courage in a Time of Fear and Doubt

John Hoyt — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 06:00:00 GMT

The word courage has been on my mind for some time now. It is a little game I play in reading magazines, journals, and the newspaper, to keep a lookout for words of significance, and courage has, for me, become one of those words. Sadly, it has not been much in the media recently. As many of us are in a state of shock or quiet desperation, courage is far from our thoughts.

So what is courage? How do we find it? How do we live it? Webster's Dictionary defines it as "That quality of mind which enables one to meet danger and difficulties with firmness, valor." The word is derived from the French word coeur, meaning heart, and comes from the ancient idea that our character and the best of our emotions come from the heart. The movie Braveheart tried to portray such a life of courage against all odds. A better film and one that reaches deeper into the word's meaning is A Man for all Seasons. This is the story of Sir Thomas Moore, a man of great wisdom and nobility, who refused to bow to the wishes of his king on a matter of principle and lost his life for it.

There is no better passage in Scripture that speaks of courage than Joshua chapter 1. Moses had been the Israelite nation's leader for forty years, and now Joshua was to take over. We find God, knowing his doubt and fears, saying to him three separate times: "Be strong and very courageous" and each time with a different emphasis. First, he promises Joshua, "As I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will never leave you nor forsake you." The second time, he adds "Be careful to obey my instructions." The third time we see his deep concern for his possibly nervous servant. "Have not I commanded you! Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified. Do not be discouraged. I will be with you wherever you go."

What great lessons we can learn from this passage. Joshua had doubts. So do we. He is the same loving God and Father, and his promises to Joshua apply to us now.

For the Christian, there is every reason to be courageous, no matter how dark the external situation may be. How I need this courage as president of a small, vulnerable company, whose financial future looks bleak, even as I am writing this. But I can look back and know that God is faithful and has provided all that I needed in the past. God promised to be with Joshua in difficult times: "As I was with Moses." Being in difficult times myself, that promise has special meaning to me. God's second admonition, "to obey," is just as applicable. If I walk in obedience and love with my Savior, I can trust that he will give me courage. Thirdly, in spite of all my doubts and fears, God is patient and persistent in his encouragement. He will always be with me wherever I go and whatever I do. Nothing can separate me from the love of Christ. Now is the time for courage!

Do Not Worry

Bradley Moore — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 06:00:00 GMT

These are worrisome times we are living in. We are living in the midst of a global financial crisis, a never-ending war, and layoffs are being announced every day. Add this pile of stink to the routine madness that you and I deal with daily—like trying to raise decent kids, maintaining a good marriage, undone chores, ailing parents, and what is that red spot on my shoulder? Was that there before?

So, I’m in somewhat of a gloomy mood—and if you weren’t before, now I bet you are too. Rather than going directly to the medicine cabinet for some relief, I decided to crack open the Good Book one evening to find some eternal comfort or at least a spiritual rope to hang onto for another day.

In keeping with his extraordinary sense of humor and good timing, God had lined up for me a propitious passage. As I opened the Bible to the bookmarked page, my eyes were immediately drawn to a bold heading that says in a very authoritative italicized font:

“Do not worry.”

“Funny,” I think, with a nod to God. (It’s Luke 12:22-33.) Jesus is encouraging the crowds with words of comfort, telling them how God will take care of them. "Don’t have an anxious mind," he says, "because God knows about everything you need. Seek first his kingdom."

Sounds nice, but it’s not sinking in.

I read it again, very slowly this time. But the grumpy mood was still bothering me, distracting me, making faces, and kicking me under the table. Maybe I need to concentrate harder. I thought about something that our youth director at church, Melissa, says to the kids. She encourages them to close their eyes after reading a Bible passage and imagine the scene in vivid detail. It creates more impact, she says. I decided to give it a try, to visualize the passage. I took a very deep breath and blew it all out very slowly, closing my eyes.

Lilies of the field. Treasure in heaven.

I picture Jesus standing on the rugged mount on a sunny, middle-eastern afternoon. The wind is gusting through his shoulder-length and surprisingly well-conditioned brown hair, and billowing around his super-white, 100% organic cotton robe. The disciples are all sitting attentively around his feet in their raggedy, itchy, burlap robes. I listen closely to the voice of Jesus, letting my thoughts float along the Jerusalem winds.

Do not worry. Do not be anxious.
Treasure in heaven.
Treasure.
Treasure. Money.
Money.
Tuition. Payment.
No bonus this year.

Uh oh.

Stupid, idiot, stupid.
Should have saved more.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Bad steward.
Idiot! Stupid!

Instead of basking in the comfort of this wonderful passage from Luke, my worried mind has packed up and gone elsewhere. I shut the Bible, frustrated with my inability to relieve this choking grip of gloom.

Sometimes when I am feeling especially worried, rather than pushing through with prayer, I will just ask God to give me a once-over while I go take a nap. My hope is that the Holy Spirit will have better luck with my subconscious self and perhaps do some kind of magnificent handiwork on my tired soul. I went to bed.

The next morning, I went back to that same passage and tried to read it with a fresh perspective. This time, however, I happened to notice the few verses that preceded the Do Not Worry passage. They seemed to be connected to the story in an important way. Once I read those verses over again, I realized that Jesus got into that whole worry discussion mostly because he was trying to say something about our relationship with money.

In verse 13, as Jesus is addressing the crowd, some loudmouth butts in because he thinks he’s got the most important problem in the room. Apparently his brother won’t share his inheritance, and he wants Jesus to fix it. “Make my brother split the cash with me!” he says, in so many words. Which, really, if you think about it, was such an inappropriate and bossy thing to tell Jesus when there’s a huge mob of desperately needy and sick people all around him. Instead of helping this man, Jesus proceeded to use the loudmouth’s obnoxious request to warn everyone about greed, that our life is more than possessions. He went on to tell the story of a rich man who was doing so well with his crops one year that he started fantasizing about building these huge barns, overflowing with all his crops, so that he could sit around all day fat and happy, just collecting the cash. Sounds kind of nice, doesn’t it? “I’ll just eat, drink, and be merry,” is the actual line famously used in this scripture. Who among us hasn’t dreamed about having that kind of security? I’ll work hard, make a pile of cash, and finally have freedom. No worries, we think. Unfortunately, the rich man dies that same night, and God says “So, big guy, who’s got all your toys now?”

Jesus knows that we all have this drive to work really hard to try and buy security in life. And he is saying, no, that’s not it. There really is no security in life. That’s the first lesson, numero uno. This is kind of hard to swallow for us hard-core, independent-minded control freaks. But maybe once we grasp that point, then the verses that follow in Luke 12:22–33 about not worrying start to make sense. Jesus is saying that there is so much more to life than the raw economics of transactions. There is a spiritual economy, too, made of relationships and giving and loving, which leads to a spiritual security. The spiritual economy is going on all around us, right in front of us, and the beauty is that it is based on eternal, unlimited abundance. But we get distracted and driven by the financial economy which appears to be more important and more threatening. So we fret about our portfolio and our prospects, and we check the stock market every 15 minutes, and we worry. But if I am quiet for a second and listen to Jesus very carefully, he says, “You’re operating in the wrong economy. Change gears. Shift your perspective.”

We’re all going to survive this financial downturn. It will come, and it will go. We may lose a lot of money, and we may recover it again. God loves me and is going to take care of me and my family. What I need to do right now is invest in his spiritual economy. That’s more of a sure thing.

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Bradley J. Moore is the author of the challenging blog Shrinking the Camel. He is a regular contributor to InsideWork and an active member of HighCallingBlogs.com, our online community that focuses on work and God.

Living a Kairos Life in a Chronos World

David Rupert — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Everything we do is marked by the steady march of time. Seconds lead to minutes to hours to days to weeks to years to decades to centuries.

The problem for all of us is that the clock is always running the wrong way, and we simply cannot stop its precipitous crawl toward the next tick. We lose moments to the past, out of our reach, never to be regained.

Where did all the years go?

The kids have grown and gone. We're muddling along in a career, making a living, just existing out of habit more than anything.

Did I miss out on my chance to make a difference?

The Greek language has a couple of words that mean "time." The first is most familiar—chronos . It means the chronology of days, governed by the carefully calculated earths' sweep around the sun. God himself ordained this measurement of days on the fourth day of Creation, spinning the heavenly lights "for seasons, and for days and years."

Boy, do I know about time. The wrinkles etched on my face; the wrinkles etched on my heart are the visual reminders of chronos.

But another word for time is also used in the New Testament—kairos . This speaks more to specific, God-ordained times throughout history, sometimes called the "right time" or "appointed season" (Titus 1:3). Kairos is God's dimension—one not marked by the past, the present, or the future.

When Jesus came, it was a fulfillment of promises past, a cosmic collision of the sacred and secular. It was an intersection of the holy will of God and the stubborn ways of man. It was a perfect moment. John the Baptist said in Mark 1:15 that "time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand."

This godly kairos pierced its way into creation at just the right time, slicing through chronos with a cry of a baby in a manger.

The cross was another kairos moment. Romans 5:6 says, "For while we were still helpless, at the right time, Christ died for the ungodly."

Kairos moments then—and now—allow us to get a glimpse of the "other side." We peek around the corner at eternity. We actually glimpse how God works.

As the omniscient, omnipresent Deity, God is not bound by the confines of space or time. That's why He flows into our existence when we least expect Him. When we ask for something right away, it might not always come. Or when we don't ask at all. But he shows up. It can be frustrating, "with the Lord one day is as a thousand years." It can also be surprising "a thousand years as one day." (2 Pet 3:8).

We should always live our days looking for those moments, those inexplicable times when His will and his way intersect with our daily walks.

And they can happen anytime! A friend calls you out of the blue to give a good word. A child's innocent joy pierces a long, hard day of struggle. A coworker takes a moment to lend a hand. God is always surprising us with his perfect, kairos timing.

Am I ready, waiting, and watching for him to move in my life?

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David Rupert is a communication professional who also blogs at www.redletterbelievers.com. He is a very active member of HighCallingBlogs.com, an online community that focuses on work and God.

Building a Reputation

Andrea Emerson — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

The other day, I was reading a best-selling author's advice on how to keep a co-worker's incompetence from damaging your reputation: "Take him down publicly," the self-proclaimed expert advised, "a little humiliation goes a long way." Ouch. Sadly, that mirrors much of today's popular wisdom for making a name for ourselves. (Have you ever watched The Apprentice?)

The importance we give to what others think, and how that relates to cultivating a reputation as competent business professionals, is a pursuit that can easily be mishandled or get out of balance. Take me, for instance. Because I still resembled a high-schooler in my twenties and was often mistaken for an intern, I obsessed over getting the business hotshots I interacted with to view me as a peer.

So I devoured books like Nice Girls Don't Get the Corner Office and adopted a series of comical measures to appear wiser and more credible: wearing glasses when I didn't need them, getting a grandma-type haircut, lowering my voice pitch and mastering body language, which included "power postures" and fighting a hair twirling habit. I also emailed the "power players" at odd hours (say, Saturday at 11 p.m.) in an effort to showcase my dedication to my work. At the end of the day, the whole credibility-building business was exhausting.

Then, studying the Scriptures, I came across that famous "you know a tree by its fruit" bit:

By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Likewise every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. (Matt. 7:16-18)

It was one of those moments when a familiar verse hits you right between the eyes with fresh, new meaning. It occurred to me that if the internal make-up of a plant determines the fruit it produces with automatic, scientific precision, then it followed that my character and spiritual growth would be far better business investments than my outward personal presentation. Simply put, you can't force a harvest without cultivating the soil.

Henry and Richard Blackaby put it like this in God in the Marketplace:

Christian character [or a stellar reputation] is not something you have to work up to or put on. It's the natural result of the Holy Spirit's activity in a believer's life (Gal. 5:22-23). [Godly] character is Christ expressing life through you (1 Cor. 15:10; Gal. 2:20). It comes from abiding in Christ (John 15:5, 7-8).

Along these lines, Jim Gleason, one of my mentors, is known to harp tirelessly on the importance of integrity in our business dealings. And he's right to do so, considering "a good name is more desirable than good riches" (Prov. 22:1).

Jim says you and I can easily set ourselves apart, earn people's respect and loyalty if we do this one thing: Keep our word. (On that note, if Jim tells you he'll call on Tuesday, you can bank on it, even if he has to call from a hospital room–which he's done before.) As the Bible tells us, "let your ‘yes' be ‘yes' and your ‘no' be ‘no'" (James 5:12).

Since I'm still far from perfect (and, I'm guessing, so are you), it's important to note that God doesn't expect perfection from us. But he does expect progression and a heart that pursues his pleasure above all else. In Hebrews 5:11-14, we read that "though by this time [we] ought to be teachers," many of us are still stuck on the elementary teachings of Christ. Rather, we are told to move from God's "milk" to "solid food," which "is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves." The bottom line? Immersing ourselves in the solid food of the Word of God is precisely the ingredient that produces good fruit, without fail.

As I've learned where my true value lies—that is, in fulfilling God's purpose for my life and advancing his truth—I've quit worrying about what people think so much, except when it comes to how I reflect and represent the God I serve and love. As we fix our eyes on him, there's no need to worry about a reputation: "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Matt. 6:33). As it turns out, producing fruit according to God's design is far easier and satisfying than trying to manufacture fruit without God.

Personal Business

L. L. Barkat — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Is it okay to use business hours to email coworkers about personal things? I have a friend who's decided it is not okay. I don't know the details about the decision; maybe things were getting out of hand, and work was taking a back seat to what felt like play. But it makes me think about my new general practitioner.

Most doctors have you fill out a tedious form outlining your physical history. The nurse hands you the form. You dutifully fill it in and hand it back to her. The doctor reads it when you're not looking. But all he really knows about you is what's written on the form.

Recently, I went to a doctor who took a noticeably different approach. Before the physical exam, he sat with me for a long time, asking all sorts of questions I could have just as easily penned answers to on a form. Okay, the question about my hobbies probably wouldn't have been on the form; he was interested that I'm learning to play piano and cello. He took down the name of my book, and we had a very amusing conversation about one of the reasons I was privileged to write that book (I have 18 siblings—steps, halves, and otherwise—but that's a story in itself). We talked about the kinds of exercise I do. Oh, and that turned out to be unexpectedly important, as he had a theory that one exercise I'm doing might be aggravating my leg.

The book of Ezra reminds me of my friend's email decision, and it reminds me of my new doctor. Not long ago, I wrote in my journal, “Why is the book of Ezra in the Bible?” Usually when I ask myself a question, I try to be cordial and attempt to answer. In the case of Ezra, I decided that (issues of divine intent and inspiration aside) it's in the Bible because it's history—the personal history of Israel. At least three of the chapters out of 10 contain lists of names . . . of people who strayed, of people who agreed to make a journey home.

Ezra records that when the foundation of the temple was laid, “people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shout from the sound of the people's weeping” (3:3). We hear not only about these emotions but also about fear, when “the people of the land discouraged the people of Judah, and made them afraid to build . . .” (4:4). Against the backdrop of all this history, we see business. Letters to and from the king and governor, exchange of goods like salt and silver, the appointment of magistrates and judges. And through it all, the hand of God quietly moving in halls of human power.

In its way, the book of Ezra is like my new doctor. Before talking salt and silver, it talks joy and tears, frailties and hopes. It weaves personal history with the execution of a major building project. Ezra suggests that maybe it's okay for my friend to talk about kids, music, or the latest cool fiction-read in a business email. Besides, “Researchers at IBM Research and MIT's Sloan School of Management [just] found that the average email contact was worth $948 in revenue.” (See Putting a Price on Social Connections.) Did those emails talk piano, cello, books, or 18 siblings? Maybe, maybe not. But my doctor, and the book of Ezra, suggest it might not have been such a bad idea.

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L. L. Barkat is the author of Stone Crossings. Her blog SeedlingsInStone.blogspot.com is a member site of HighCallingBlogs.com.

Middle Managers Might Find This a Bit Scary

Gordon Atkinson — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

People say they love the parables of Jesus, which is understandable. Jesus was a wonderful storyteller. But I sometimes wonder if anyone is actually reading them. I find many to be rather frightening. In fact, the harshest judgment is for those who call themselves children of God and do not live faithfully in their daily lives.

I sometimes think the parables should carry a warning. “Let the reader beware.” One such parable is found in Matthew 24: 45-51. It is often called “The Parable of the Faithful and Unfaithful Steward.”

"Who then is the faithful and wise servant, whom his master has set over his household, to give them their food at the proper time? Blessed is that servant whom his master will find so doing when he comes. Truly, I say to you, he will set him over all his possessions. But if that wicked servant says to himself, 'My master is delayed,' and begins to beat his fellow servants and eats and drinks with drunkards, the master of that servant will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour he does not know and will cut him in pieces and put him with the hypocrites. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

The story is simple enough: A master leaves behind a servant, whom he puts in charge of the other servants. He is a steward of the workforce. He's the first century equivalent of middle management. Modern readers who exist in the business world on levels below and above middle management will probably enjoy this story. Middle managers themselves might find it a bit scary.

In the story, the steward is tasked with making sure the workers are given their proper allotment of food and drink and supplies. He has control of the schedule, keys to the supply room, and requisitions for new equipment and computers go through him. The CEO is often absent, sometimes for months. So this guy sets up quite a little kingdom for himself. He is abusive and cruel to those below him. He hogs new resources, using them for himself and his cronies, while others struggle to get their work done with aging computers and broken printers. He's pretty liberal with the petty cash too, taking himself and his friends out for long, expensive lunches. People in the office fear him and come to work each day filled with anxiety.

As you can imagine, the good times don't last forever. The manager thinks he knows when his boss is returning. Unfortunately for him, the CEO returns unexpectedly, and there is hell to pay. In the parable, literally.

There are numerous lessons in this wonderful story that have remained relevant for 2,000 years and will remain so as long as we have jobs and workers and people in charge. The abuse of power is, apparently, a thing that makes God quite angry. Woe to those who use positions of power for undue personal gain. The story also reminds us that much is expected from those to whom much is given by God.

The central meaning of the story is, however, faithfulness. God doesn't seem too concerned about what kind of job you have. Some have powerful jobs and others do not. What matters most to God is what you are doing with yourself on average days. On Tuesday mornings, say. And on Thursdays of uneventful weeks.

Happy are those whom the Lord will find obediently serving him when he returns. Happy are those who will be pleasantly surprised and filled with joy when they look up from their work and find that he has come. Happy are those who, being put in charge of others, are not seeking to benefit themselves, but instead carrying out their managerial tasks with grace and honesty and fairness to others.

Yes, happy are the faithful. For the day of the Lord always comes. In one form or another, it comes. And whether His coming is cause for celebration or trembling is determined, in part, by what happens in your life on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

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Gordon Atkinson is a pastor at Covenant Baptist Church, blogger at RealLivePreacher.com, and editor at HighCallingBlogs.com a network of Christians thinking about the relationship between work and God.

God's Plan for Work

Vera Jackson — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Everyone might like the idea of taking a permanent vacation, but in reality work has been part of God's plan for mankind from the beginning.

The Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. And the Lord God commanded the man, "You are free to eat from any tree in the garden." (Gen. 2:15–16)

This interaction between God and the first man took place before sin entered the earth. The Lord has always intended for us to work and eat the fruit of our labors. Idleness has never been part of his will. In fact, "having nothing to do" is part of the fall of man. We know that Jesus came to save us from sin and bring us into the Kingdom of God. In Matthew 20, he tells a parable that illustrates his call for us:

He agreed to pay them a denarius for the day and sent them into his vineyard. About the third hour he went out and saw others standing in the marketplace doing nothing. He told them, "You also go and work in my vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right." So they went. (verses 2–5)

God is calling us to labor in His vineyard. He wants to rescue us from idleness by calling us to work, and he has enough going on to keep all of us busy. Not only that, he has promised to reward us for our labor. It just does not get better than that!

It is easy to imagine that we are laboring in God's vineyard when we volunteer for our church or do other ministry work. Yet God intends that the marketplace jobs we do every day be set apart for his glory just as much as if we were pastoring a church or traveling as an evangelist. God wants us to see all the work we do as a holy calling. Paul said it this way: "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men" (Col. 3:23).

Work is a blessing. We all understand this when we are out of a job and need to find employment to keep the bills paid. Yet God's purpose for our work goes so far beyond meeting our financial needs. Each job or "assignment" we receive from Him is part of His divine plan to expand His Kingdom. Unfortunately, there are still people—and some believers are among them—who stand idle in the marketplace just like the men in the parable. Some are lazy, but others simply do not understand why they are there. They do not know God's plan for work.

God wants to make sure we are fulfilling the roles he prepared for us before we were born. The Bible teaches us that God judges us based on our stewardship of what he entrusts to us in this life. When it comes to our professional lives, we know he is interested in how we spend the money we earn and how we treat the people we meet. Do we also realize that he is just as interested in the quality of the work we do?

Passport to the Lost

Think about the lives of missionaries. They leave the comfort of their homeland to take the Gospel to people who would never have the chance to hear it otherwise. Missionaries know when they enter a new land that they may be the only representatives of Jesus Christ that the people ever see. They conduct themselves in a way that is above reproach to avoid hurting their Lord's reputation. In short, they live their lives on the mission field exactly the way we should live our lives when we go into the marketplace.

The most obvious meaning of the word missionary is "someone on a mission." That is who we are! First and foremost, our work in the marketplace is a passport that affords us entrance into the lives of lost people we would never otherwise meet. They may be struggling in their families, suffering from past hurts, or simply searching for purpose and meaning in life. They are people made in the image of God, people whom he loves dearly.

Think of it—you may be the only real Christian that the people on your job ever get to see. With every breath you take and every step you make, he is calling you to fulfill the Great Commission. Certainly our Sovereign God does not need our help, yet in his mercy he has chosen to use you and me. When we cooperate with God's plan for us to live out our faith on the job, our lives become enormously full, joyous, and purposeful.

God is calling us to take the Gospel to those we supervise, to our coworkers, and even to our superiors. That is what it means to be salt and light in the marketplace! Just as God sends missionaries overseas to bring the Gospel to other cultures, he sends each one of us to our unique professional subculture to carry his Good News. When men and women see us as loving and compassionate people who set a standard for excellence in all we do, they will be drawn to the God we serve.

In order for us to accomplish our mission, however, we must understand the importance of the positions we hold and the professional roles we play. We must understand that God will give us the wisdom and strength to please our earthly bosses and our heavenly Boss! We do not need to compromise one for the other. When we are focused on faithfully representing Jesus in our character, conduct, and work ethic, we cannot help but perform on the job with excellence.

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Used by permission. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.
Excerpted from:
Taking Jesus to Work: Living Out Your Faith on the Job by Vera R. Jackson
Copyright © 2008; ISBN 9780800794613
Published by Chosen Books, a division of Baker Publishing Group

Void Where Prohibited

Robert Hruzek — Sun, 31 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

You know what "the fine print" means, don't you?

It's that ridiculously dense paragraph you find on coupons or contest notices, usually in a font so tiny you need a 40X magnifier to read. Or, in the case of TV or radio, it's those 853 lightning-fast words they rattle off in the last four seconds of a commercial.

Often called a disclaimer, it's the detailed listing of every conceivable circumstance in which whatever you want to do—whether it's to enter a contest, get 82% off your purchase, or obtain multiple items for the price of one—can somehow be disallowed. Adding insult to injury, they're usually written in legalese, a language most of us don't even speak!

The disclaimer I find most puzzling, though, is "void where prohibited." It makes me wonder what possible circumstances would make it illegal for me to, say, win fifty bucks or to finally attain that Holy Grail of fast food: five giant Bubba Burgers for a dollar? How could something so innocuous be so wrong? Is there some vast shadowy organization out there whose sole purpose of existence is to prohibit folks like me from getting a good deal?

Rules and Regulations

There's no doubt about it, my friends; life is all about rules and regulations. Do this; don't do that—it's a full-time job keeping track, isn't it? The irony is, even if you can get all you want—of whatever it is you're after—you may find, like the kid in the candy store, that too much of a good thing really isn't so great after all.

But what if I could point you toward something that is never void, and never, ever prohibited? That's right; you can have as much as you want! Wouldn't you be interested? If so, then read what the Apostle Paul wrote in the fifth chapter of his letter to the Galatians:

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law." (Gal. 5:22-23; emphasis mine)

The Fruit of the Spirit

So what exactly is the fruit of the Spirit?

Perhaps best described as character traits of the Spirit-led Christian, they are positive, desirable qualities God desires to produce in us as we grow in him. Here's what I find most amazing: we don't even have to develop them ourselves; he promises to grow them in us, if we'll just follow him.

It's no accident that Paul uses the metaphor of a fruit tree; it's a beautifully clear picture of how God grows these qualities in us. After all, have you ever seen an orange tree strain mightily to produce an orange? Of course not! It's an inherent characteristic—orange trees, when planted in good soil, just naturally produce oranges.

The fruit of the Spirit comes about in the same manner: Christians who live and grow in Christ just naturally produce fruit. It's the way he made us!

Alas, the truth of this passage painfully smacks me in the face. Do I personally exhibit these characteristics in my daily life? Do the folks I work with know I'm a walking fruit stand? Do I bless folks around me by my words and actions? And even beyond the workplace, what about folks I encounter at the restaurant, at the corner store, or at the garage?

Note, too, how Paul points out "there is no law" against these things. That's good news, because it means here is something for which there is no fine print! You won't have to drag out a magnifying glass, break out your legal dictionary, or even listen closely so you won't miss anything. When it comes to the fruit of the Spirit, you'll never have to wonder if they're "void where prohibited."

It begs the question, though, doesn't it? If all we have to do is let God do it, then what's stopping us?

What To Do With Vocational Honors?

Jonathan Dodson — Sun, 24 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Nothing beats an honest day's work, so the saying goes. In an age of unethical business schemes and get-rich-quick internet commerce delusions, an honest day's work is harder to come by. The new saying might go something like: "Nothing beats a quick, lucrative day's work."

But there is a vocational reward greater than wealth or honor, a reward grasped centuries ago by St. Augustine. In Confessions, he writes: "I looked with longing at honors, wealth and marriage, and you laughed at me." Does God laugh at our longing for honor and wealth and relationships?

Imprisoning Honors

Augustine was an immensely successful teacher and rhetorician, but he felt imprisoned by his awards and recognition. Is it possible that these honors are inherently bad or oppressive? A glowing review, a congratulatory comment, published research, or an endorsed product? It seems right to recognize goodness in some person—a purple heart for a soldier wounded in battle recognizes courage and self-sacrifice, noble qualities indeed. I think of remarks I have received after a sermon, emails regarding articles I have written, comments on a blog post. Have I been ensnared by these honors, awards, and recognitions? What was it about Augustine's honors that imprisoned him?

False Joys

Augustine continues his reflections by describing an encounter with a beggar, whose fleeting happiness over a few coins outweighed the joy of Augustine's ambitious plans. Augustine sees in his own efforts a joy that was "much more false" than the beggar's financial delight. The beggar was "free from care, while [Augustine] was full of fear."

Every day I drive by homeless beggars on our highways, often cynically imagining how stress-free their jobs are, as they hold up signs that read "Why lie? I want a beer." I then reflect on the stress—dare I say fear—many of us carry due to the demands of our jobs and employers. We are consumed with pleasing people at work and in life, while at the same time fearing that we might displease them. What's worse is that very often the "them" we aim to please are anonymous.

What was so wretched in Augustine's soul that required a spiritual freedom? Was it his honors for fine learning, teaching, and instructing? If not, what was it about his honors that bound him, leading him down the path of falsehood and soul-wrenching deception? His fear led him to take pleasure in winning approval of men "not to instruct them, but only to please them." Augustine's heart was imprisoned by lesser affections, by his inordinate desire to please men over God. He looked "with longing at honor, wealth, and marriage," expecting these from men not God.

Toward True Joy

Do we take hollow comfort and empty joy in anonymous approval of those around us? Do we fear that we will not be honored or rewarded for our performance or appearance? All too often my joy rises and falls with the numbers of compliments I receive, comments on my blog, or recognition by a colleague, spouse, or friend. Our longings and desires rest too firmly upon the approval or rejection of finite men and not in the unfathomable pleasure of an infinite, loving, accepting God. With Augustine, we seek only to please men, not instruct them.

How can we move toward true joy? What do we do with the honors we receive? How do we avoid making compliments a basis for our confidence?

•   Identify the particular recognition that can imprison your soul. Think about the kind of recognition you cherish most. Who does it come from? What does it look like?

•   Receive recognition without cherishing it. Accept the compliment without savoring it for significance.

•   Deflect the honor and recognition to God. Give him the credit for your performance, since we are to glorify God in whatever we do (1 Cor. 10:31).

•   Repent where you have cherished the honors of men over honoring God. Exercise faith in God's all-sufficient love and grace as the only place your soul is satisfied.

•   Rejoice in the privilege of work, the favorable results, and the greatness of God to give you the capacity to produce God-honoring results.

Nothing beats an honest day's work, especially when we are honest about who is worthy of the credit for our honorable work. By pointing away from ourselves to the strength, creativity, and wisdom of our Creator, vocational honors can be a reminder of the sufficiency of the gospel for our significance. When we identify and deflect honors that woo us, we can learn to rejoice in God's grace, not man's compliments.

Of Loaves and Fishes

Heather Goodman — Sun, 17 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

We've heard the story dozens, maybe hundreds, of times. Five thousand men (not to mention the thousands of women and children) listen at the feet of Jesus. They get hungry, as humans tend to do, and Jesus decides to do something about it. He turns to his disciples and inquires as to their suggestions. Using logic and simple math, they respond with the impossibility of the situation. Jesus works a miracle, and everyone eats.

Pastors and teachers elaborate on different points, mainly around God's sufficiency and power.

All very well and good, but what about the little boy, the one who offered up his five loaves and two fish? What happened to him? Sure, he ate that meal along with everyone else, but then what?

Truth be told, that little boy would have eaten a hearty meal anyway, one of the few—perhaps one of the only—able to do so. And his five loaves and two fish might have fed him for another couple of meals. That boy had planned ahead.

So I wonder, did Jesus give him a basket or two of the leftovers? Or did the boy walk away wonder-eyed and empty-handed?

How could these gospel writers omit such an important detail?

Recently, my husband and I joined the ranks of those experiencing reduced income. We scrutinize every nickel that leaves our hands. "Could we have saved it?" we ask, and "What can we cut?" Superfluous expenses fall to our feet like branches from a pruned tree. We figure and refigure our budget on spreadsheets, trying to make the numbers match.

And in our examination, we consider our giving. We need this meal. We need it for lunch, and we need it for the next few days. How can we afford to offer up our last bit of fish and loaves?

So when I read this passage, the question nags. What happens to the boy on the other end of the miracle?

The biblical writers offer no answer to the question. What they don't say:

"And the boy left with a basket forever filled with fish and loaves."

Or, "As Jesus lifted the food from the boy's hand, he promised the boy a secure future of full fishnets and in-demand business."

Or even, "After the disciples collected the twelve baskets full, they returned five loaves and two fish to the boy who gave his lunch."

Given these lines, dropping our check into the offering plate would present no problem. But God doesn't promise a comfortable life. He doesn't promise cable or sushi or new books. Instead, he promises life, and life to the fullest. Christ said, "I have come so that they may have life, and may have it abundantly" (John 10:10 , NET). This life abounds in the hope of the resurrection, the fruit of the Holy Spirit, the peace of Christ that transcends all understanding. We give out of this abundance. We give joy, peace, kindness, love, but we always give time, commitment, and money.

At some point in our lives, we all step into the well-worn sandals of the boy in the story. Times are hard. We barely have enough for ourselves, but Jesus asks us to give anyway. We don't know what happens economically on the other side of the giving, but our hope is not in economics. Our hope is in Christ.

Do You Feel Broken and Fragmented?

Ann Voskamp — Sun, 10 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

God has only one loom.

You wouldn't think so by the fragmentation of our lives. Our days look like the scrap floor of a studio, frayed bits of work, remnants snipped off family, a heap of countless fabrics—ministry, creativity, worship, volunteerism. We're ripped into pieces, and putting our lives together again is like turkey stitching a crazy quilt—driving us a bit crazy.

We've sheared the textile of our own lives. And it's time to put down the scissors. Why cut up 100% pure avodah?

That's what God's weaving. God doesn't experience a disconnect between our screens and our sanctuaries, between the people on our street and the paintbrushes on our desk. We have these labels for the bits and pieces of who we are and what we do. But God takes up the all the threads of being and weaves them into a seamless silk. He calls it avodah.

The Fabric of Work

He began the weaving in the beginning. "The Lord God took the man and placed him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it" (Genesis 2:15). We read the translated word "work" and think that is what God meant for us to do. The Hebrew word is avodah. It is the same word in Exodus 34:21, in the writing of the Ten Commandments, "Six days you shall work…." Six days you shall avodah.

The Fabric of Worship

But we know we're meant for more than work. We know we're meant to glorify God, to worship with our lives. Exodus 3:12 speaks to God's serious call to this life of worship: "When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain." We read "worship." In Hebrew, the word reads avodah.

The Fabric of Service

And yet God Himself calls us to even more than work and worship. Deuteronomy 10:12 records the question and answer: "So now, O Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you? Only to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul." We read the English translation: to serve—to minister unto God, unto his people, unto the needy, the seeking, the hurting. The Hebrew original: avodah.

The Fabric of Creativity

We work. We worship. We serve. But there's another integral element to our identity as human beings, the part that we've inherited from our Father who can't stop creating, producing designs, dreaming beauty. 1 Chronicles 28:21 refers to these innovative, imaginative efforts: "The divisions of the priests and Levites are ready for all the work on the temple of God, and every willing man skilled in any craft will help you in all the work." The text renders it as craft—creative acts, the arts—and God whispers again: avodah. He emphasizes his singular loom by whispering avodah twice in this one verse: work and craft are both expressed as avodah in the original Hebrew.
The ancient Hebrews even used the term avodah to describe the sacrifices offered in the temple. And that is the key. To live a fully devoted, interwoven life, we must see everything as a sacrifice to God.

Nearly four hundred years ago, a man peeling potatoes as an act of worship, Brother Lawrence, said, "Our sanctification does not depend as much on changing our activities as it does on doing them for God, rather than ourselves." We don't need to change activities from monetary work to missionary work to be devout. That very construct is false. All Christians are in full-time ministry. So we can stop tearing our lives into the categories of worldly and spiritual. We can put away the scissors of selfish ambitions and self-seeking comfort and self interests. If our lives feel fragmented, it's because we are tearing up God's one-piece fabric.

We wear God's seamless silk when we mindfully offer everything we do as a sacrifice to God. Paul explained this clearly to the Romans: "So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering" (Rom. 12:1 MSG). When we see our lives as a sacrificial offering unto the Lord—avodah—our work becomes art and our art becomes ministry and our worship becomes serving and our serving becomes work.

Just as the "LORD our God is one LORD" (Deut. 6:4), so our God weaves all of life on only one loom, and there is only one word for the whole of lives rightly lived in sacrifice to Him.

100% pure Avodah.

Redefining Attitude

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—regardless of whether that generates "positive" results in our lives. And we have hope that the more Christlike our attitude, the more we will be able to live out God's calling in our lives.

Overcoming Discouragement

Mark D. Roberts — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 06:00:00 GMT

"Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you" (Psalm 39:7, NLT).

When "Jim" left my office at church, I was elated. Our meeting had been a tough but productive one. As his boss, I worked hard to help Jim understand my expectations and where he had been falling short. I tried to be gracious as I spoke critically, and Jim received my counsel with a willing spirit. Months of supervisory effort seemed finally to be bearing fruit. An immensely talented young man, Jim had great potential to be an outstanding member of the church staff. Thus I was encouraged by his response to our meeting and looked forward with hope to our future together.

When I arrived at my office the next morning, a blank envelope sat ominously on my desk. It contained Jim's resignation letter. He was finished at the church. There was nothing I could do or say to change his mind.

At that moment I felt deeply discouraged. My hope for Jim's fruitful future at our church shriveled on the vine. I felt like a dismal failure as a boss. Who was I to think I could manage a large church staff? Maybe I should just pack up my bags and find more suitable employment.

You may not have faced something just like my experience with Jim, but I expect you have felt the heavy weight of discouragement. Maybe it came at work, as a project for which you had high hopes fell apart. Perhaps it had to do with a close relationship that splintered owing to a misunderstanding. Or your discouragement might have resulted from frustration with your inability to be the kind of person you know God wants you to be.

Discouragement . . . such a common emotion . . . how can we overcome it? How can we get beyond discouragement, and even learn from it?

Go Ahead and Feel Discouraged

First of all, if you want to overcome discouragement, allow yourself to feel discouraged. No, I don't recommend that you rev up negative feelings that aren't there. But if you are truly discouraged, don't pretend otherwise. Trust God enough to feel what you really feel.

Some Christians think that discouragement itself is something about which to be ashamed, almost as if it were a sin. One of my favorite hymns, "What a Friend We Have in Jesus," urges: "Have we trials and temptations? Is there trouble anywhere? We should never be discouraged; take it to the Lord in prayer." Perhaps in an ideal world we should never be discouraged. But in reality, discouragement is a normal part of human life. The Psalmist asked for God's help with despair (see Psalms 42-43). The Apostle Paul admitted his own deep discouragement (2 Cor. 1:8-9). If we deny our discouragement and pretend we're "just fine," we won't be able to overcome it.

Understand Your Discouragement

If you're discouraged, why? Generally, discouragement follows on the heels of hope that doesn't pan out. For example, I had hoped that Jim would become a valuable employee. Instead, he quit, so I felt discouraged.

Knowing the source of your discouragement is essential to overcoming it. Maybe you were unrealistic in your hopes and need to learn to be more astute in your judgment (as in my situation with Jim). Maybe people you trusted let you down. Or maybe your discouragement is more generalized, a sign of burnout or broad dissatisfaction with your life. Discouragement could reflect underlying depression that is itself the symptom of deeper emotional discord. If you can accurately identify the cause of your discouragement, you'll be on the road to alleviating it.

Share Honestly with Trusted Counselors

If you're discouraged, don't keep it to yourself. Don't let pride or shame prevent you from sharing honestly with people who will listen empathically and respond wisely. Your gutsy openness will bring relief for you and freedom to others.

Throughout the years at Laity Lodge, we have followed the example of Howard Butt by sharing our lives openly, including our joys and our sorrows, our successes and our disappointments. Such honesty has opened our hearts to new experiences of God's grace. In my own life, I have found that the very act of sharing my disappointment at work with my wife or another close friend often leads to a lessening of my discouragement. Their input also helps me understand why I'm discouraged and what I can do about it.

Share Honestly with God

Or, to use more common language, pray about it. Here's where I agree completely with "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." If you feel discouraged, "take it to the Lord in prayer." We can tell him everything, including the fact that we're discouraged. When we do, we begin to experience God's gracious peace.

Moreover, when we share our discouragement with the Lord, we are open to discovering his presence in the midst of our unhappiness. Perhaps God is wanting to teach us something essential through our discouragement. Maybe he is redirecting our energies, our work, or our lives.

When we take our discouragement to the Lord in prayer, we find that our hope is redirected and rekindled. With the Psalmist, we confess, "And so, Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you" (Psalm 39:7, NLT). This doesn't mean we never trust others or expect their help. But it does remind us that God alone is fully trustworthy and that his help is both necessary and utterly reliable. The more we hope in God, focusing on his trustworthiness, the more we will find our discouragement melting away, replaced by confidence in God. Thus we not only overcome discouragement, but also it becomes an avenue to spiritual growth.