TheHighCalling.org: Integrity

Religious Liberty (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 06:00:00 GMT

As our nation’s 233rd birthday is upon us I wanted to ramble about one of its founding principles—liberty. Mostly this word gets reduced to a synonym—"freedom." Or it may be reduced even further to mean "being free," i.e. without restraint.

Liberty is something more than just being free. In the political context in which it used in the Declaration of Independence, freedom means being released from arbitrary governance by another political entity, England. The separatists or Puritans left England to establish a colony where they were free from the restraint of the Church of England. Their liberty came from the elimination of religious constraint.

While exercising their religious liberty, they did not establish freedom of religion. We can just look to Roger Williams for that evidence. Williams preached religious tolerance and the right for people to pursue God in their own way, and he was exiled from the colony. Eventually, he founded a new colony based on these principles of religious liberty at Providence, Rhode Island. This colony is the birthplace of the Baptist congregation in America.

Through this principle of religious liberty grew a founding tenet of the United States of America, the separation of church and state. It grew out of an understanding of liberty that allows the individual to throw off the shackles of an oppressor to pursue God in their own way.

Religious toleration is at the heart of our country’s founding, and it is very much alive today. Despite its abuses, this tolerance makes possible a forum for dissenting voices. Fifty years ago, the voice of the atheist was crushed in the United States. Today, that voice is allowed to be heard and is openly debated in many Christian media outlets. Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins have a voice in our country because the overwhelmingly Christian populace allows it. That's religious liberty.

Building a Reputation (Bible Reflection)

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.

An Undivided Life (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Remember your cafeteria trays in elementary school? The large rectangle was for your main dish. The milk carton had its square. The silverware went in the long, skinny trench. Every serving had its place.

We tend to serve up life that way: church, work, home—all in separate compartments. But it doesn't work. We were made to be whole.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. When the rich young ruler asked Jesus how to have eternal life, Jesus told him to obey the commandments and to sell his possessions. But his possessions were his compartmentalized idolatry! What Jesus told the young man, he's still telling us. Our faith doesn't fit into one compartment. It fills the whole tray . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Thess. 5:23)

A Colleague's Story (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Here is an example illustrating the power of story in the life of one of my coworkers. I’ve created a story about Katie's journey as I understand it. Some people may say I’ve projected a story onto my colleague. No matter, the following example helps me better understand my relationship with a colleague. And it’s a fun way to try to understand someone.

Katie came to work at Laity Lodge Youth Camp straight from college. She worked as an intern , then as an assistant director. And now she is an associate director. Working with Katie and observing her journey has always been a joy.
There exists in Katie an authenticity that is refreshing. She is earnest in her faith and open about her struggles as well as her triumphs. She is devoted to Christ and his leading in her life. In fact, Katie is so fervent about her faith, it is both encouraging and startling at the same time.
One day in our staff devotion, Katie shared some health concerns. She was in constant pain and doctors weren't sure what was causing the pain. Over the months as Katie continued visiting different doctors, her pain increased. No relief was in sight. Each new report she shared was bleaker than the previous report. When she did receive a diagnosis, the doctor said she had rheumatoid arthritis. Katie was only twenty-five.
Her medication included some difficult side effects. It was serious, but Katie’s outlook never changed. She remained upbeat and faithful even as she shared her fears. Eventually, doctors determined that Katie had suffered because of a virus that brought on symptoms like arthritis. After the virus finished running its course, Katie was perfectly healthy again.
For nearly two years, she struggled with pain and uncertainty. But then Katie was restored to full health. She moved forward with her plans to be married. After this summer, Katie moves to another adventure as she and her new husband, an Air Force pilot, take an assignment in Japan.

Journey or “The Great Journey” is one of the common themes of literature. Applying this theme to my coworker, Katie, I am better able to identify her uniqueness. I continue to marvel at her enthusiastic and encouraging spirit and the power of her faith. All life is a journey. Sometimes we encounter people who inspire us with their journeys. Katie is one of those people.

Katie's journey through illness isn't the end of the story though. Katie’s whole life will be a journey, and she is just at the beginning of that journey.

Now it's your turn. Think about two or three people you work with on a regular basis. Apply one or more of the common themes listed below to each of the people you selected. Create a story around their lives.

Abundance and Service (Personal Reflection)

Mary E. DeMuth — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Years ago, my husband and I met a friendly couple in our church who invited us to a party. As I put my coat away in their bedroom, I noticed charts everywhere tacked to the walls—proof the couple was gung-ho about a particular business venture.

"I think I know why they had us over," I whispered to my husband. He couldn't believe they would invite us just to introduce us to their business, and he smirked when they mentioned nothing of it that evening.

A week later, we received a phone call from the couple, imploring us to become a part of their amazing business. We declined. They never invited us over again.

Several years later, I sat at a church luncheon next to a woman I hadn't met. She asked, "What's your passion in life?"

Though I hadn't expressed it publicly, I felt God nudging me to say, "I want to be a writer."

She smiled. "Really? Do you know what one of my passions is? To help develop and train new writers!" The result? This professor and published author mentored me. Her servant's heart changed my professional life forever.

Two truths contradict each other when business and Jesus collide: To win in the business world, you have to market yourself, your product, your wares. Yet Jesus didn't come to earth to be served. He came to serve others without expectation of reciprocation. How do we reconcile marketing that appears self-serving with Jesus' admonition to serve others? By exploring fear and abundance.

Our friends' pressure to join their venture unmasked their fear. Worrying about making enough money, they leveraged each new relationship in the church to meet that goal—and then moved on to another church. But the author, who struggled financially, freely gave her expertise and time to someone who couldn't necessarily benefit her. She gave from a place of God's abundance, from her belief in an upside-down kingdom where eternal rewards resulted from simple obedience.

Fear will cause some people to exploit others, but recognizing God's abundance in the here and now, as well as the not-yet, compels us to bless others with our service.

In fact, forsaking fear and embracing God's abundance helps us serve others in four ways.

1)   God's abundance replaces insecurity with confidence.

John wrote, "Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God; and whatever we ask we receive from Him, because we keep His commandments and do the things that are pleasing in His sight" (1 John 3:21-22). When we're insecure, we tend to see people as pawns for financial gain. This attitude does not please God. But when we start obeying him in every aspect of our lives, we have the kind of confidence we need to view customers as fellow image-bearers who deserve to be treated the way we ourselves love to be treated. Our settled confidence in God's goodness is contagious, spilling over into the way we treat people.

2)   God's abundance takes focus off yourself and places it on those you serve, making you both attentive and savvy.

Placing yourself in the customers' shoes gives you keen insight into their needs, their habits, their frustrations. When in those shoes, you create better products, services and technologies. You've heard it before, but customer service is ultimately about understanding customers and meeting their felt needs.

3)   Abundance gives you the long view.

Making an immediate sale is tempered by cultivating life-long loyalty. When you go out of your way to serve people, you connect with them. Even if they never buy anything from you, your service will be a gift to them.

4)   God's abundance puts marketing in perspective.

It's not that marketing or selling is evil, but like anything, it can consume us, particularly in this faltering economy. If we know we are ultimately provided for, marketing becomes more about enhancing someone's life, generating great service, and providing information or a product that benefits the customer. Having abundance actually enhances the marketing experience.

The couple that invited us to their party are a blip in our life story, but the author who gave of her time sacrificially is one of my best friends today. You can bet I buy every book she writes. She served me from the abundance of her heart. As a secondary result, she earned a lifelong customer. She typified Jesus' words, "For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many" (Mark 10:45). Serving as Jesus did will produce surprising rewards and keep our hearts in the right place when we market.

Humility, Serving God's Will (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Benedict of Nursia, in the early sixth century, founded several communities devoted to living a godly life. Through his efforts, he developed his "Rule" for governing daily life. Benedict honored work and understood it to be a high calling. Today, The Rule of St. Benedict is growing in popularity.

Chapter Seven of The Rule is "Humility." Each person should strive toward humility. Benedict provides twelve steps in the process.

1.       Fear God and recognize your sins (Ps. 36:2).
2.       Love God and his will more than your own (John. 6:38).
3.       Be obedient to God and others in authority. (Phil. 2:8).
4.       Have patient endurance (Matt. 10:22).
   5.       Humbly confess (Ps. 37:5).
   6.       Be content in difficult times (Ps. 73:22-23).
   7.       Consider yourself lowly, being nothing without God (Ps. 22:7).
   8.       Submit to the common rule and the example of the elders.
   9.       Keep from speaking until asked (Prov. 10:19).
10.     Practice restraint in words.
11.     Speak gently and wisely.
12.     Be humble at heart and humble in all activities (Luke 18:13).

The Most Effective Social Network Ever (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Thu, 28 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Having our own social network online at HighCallingBlogs.com and having recently returned from an influential interactive media conference, I'm interested in the origination of social media. Of course, I can't identify the absolute first example of social media, but I can identify the source for the most effective social network in history. It was in Ur several thousand years ago. The originator was Abraham.

Through faithful response to the One God, Abraham became the founding father of the world's three great monotheistic religions. Christianity, Islam, and Judaism all trace their roots back to Abraham. His network began as an oral tradition spread among the tribes. It was "by faith " that Abraham was able to fulfill his destiny.

By word of mouth, the God of Abraham was shared with the ancients. There were no books or scrolls, only words shared among people. This network of desert tribes eventually united under one God. The story of this one God is still shared today. In the beginning was the Word . . .

Today we're enthused by electronic social media. Its immediacy and range cover the globe. This is an amazing feat of technology. The three great social networks of today (Facebook, YouTube, and Twitter) didn't exist six years ago and probably won't be the the big three in six more years. Time passes and technologies change. New ideas replace old ones.

For thousands of years, the faith of Abraham has endured. It has faced trials and divisions. Wars have been fought. Cultures have disappeared. Empires have fallen. But still, the faith of one man, Abraham, and one woman, his wife Sarah, has endured.

It is the most effective social network ever.

Numbering Your Days and Your Finances (Personal Reflection)

Virginia Stem Owens — Sun, 24 May 2009 06:00:00 GMT

So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

(Psalm 90:12, NKJV)

Numbering my days is an abiding preoccupation with me, now that I am 67. And the larger that number grows, the more I am conscious of the need to apply my heart to wisdom. Or as the King James Version says it, “to get a heart of wisdom.”

Actuarial charts show the average lifespan of various populations based on their current age. For example, according to numbers supplied by the Social Security Administration, as a woman, I should expect to live another 17 years and nine months. This number can be further refined by factoring in such categories as sex, economic bracket, smoking history, and occupation. One of the most important factors is genetics—how long your own parents lived. Mine lived into their eighties. If I follow their pattern, I should probably overshoot my predicted number.

So should I count on another twenty years? Do I want another twenty years? Not particularly, considering that my mother lived the last decade of her life in the throes of Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s diseases. Those years were a trial to our family and a nightmare for her.

Moreover, my own bodily afflictions, minor though they are compared to hers, on some days make me eager to shuffle off this mortal coil.

Actuarial charts supposedly help with numbering our days as Psalm 90 encourages us to do. But when I apply my heart to wisdom, I confront other truths. First of all, actuarial charts deal only with averages, not individuals. I might die sitting here at my computer at any moment. For none of us really knows the full number of our days. We can only count them day by day, one at a time. Pondering one’s end may be wisdom; trying to predict is not. At best, such an attempt is pointless. At worst, it leads to fear or disappointment.

So what is the point of numbering my days? How does it get me a heart of wisdom? Psalm 90 (vs. 10) also puts the average lifespan at seventy—which would mean three more years for me. “Or by reason of strength, four score.” That would yield another thirteen.

I try that on to see how it feels. How would I live if I knew I had three more years? Would I blow my shrinking retirement nest egg in three years on big travel plans? Would I pay for my graduating granddaughter’s first year in college? Or would I buy my husband the Jaguar he’s always wanted?

Would I live differently if I had thirteen more years? I’d probably just choose a new fence for my chicken yard and dole out the rest in cost-of-living increases . . .

Linking longevity to my financial resources isn’t simple materialism. If one‘s heart lies where one’s treasure is, following the money can show me what I truly value. And knowing where my heart and treasure is—that can be wisdom.

Do You Feel Broken and Fragmented? (Bible Reflection)

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" (Cedar Waxwings are brownish birds with black masks and pale yellow bellies. They are frugivorous—fruit eaters. Those bellies of pale yellow are full of berries!

And sometimes those berries are fermented, and Cedar Waxwings get drunk. Yes, drunk! They fall to the ground, hit windows, get hit by vehicles, and die from injuries.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. Most people never see a Cedar Waxwing hatch, fly, dine on berries, or fall and die. But God does. Jesus said not one bird escapes his Father's loving eye. Not one. So don't you fear. You're worth far more than any bird. Think of that today—and go easy on the berries!—in the high calling of our daily work.

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? (Matt. 6:26-27)

Don't Sell Me That (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 06:00:00 GMT

The best thing I didn't do last week was buy a car. I was close, one final signature close, but I decided against it. For several reasons it just felt like closing the deal was a mistake.The salesman was a good man, and the process went along smoothly. The price of the car was acceptable, but the trade-in value of my car was a little low. Still, that wasn't a deal breaker.

When I sat down with the finance person to work out the final details, things started getting weird. These days, before I go out to buy a car, I do considerable research. So I have in my mind the market value of the car I'm purchasing, the trade-in value of my car, and financing options. I signed a couple of papers to start the process, and then I was handed the total bill and the quick explanations that followed each line.

The finance person stated, "Of course, you want this included. And certainly, here's another necessary item."

Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to get out of there struck me. I paused. No! I couldn't do this. It didn't feel right. I got up and politely announced that I couldn't follow through on the deal. The next thing I remember is that the finance person was dropping items from the bill. Hundreds of dollars came off the price. That only made me more determined to get out of there.

As I've reflected on the experience, a few things come to mind. I don't think this experience reflects the high calling of our daily work. I understand car dealers are trying to get as much money for their cars as they can. What bothers me is the way the dealer has chosen to deal with the concerns of their customers.

I've done business with car dealers who do care about their customers and deal with them fairly. So this isn't an indictment of car dealers. It's an illustration of how our work may or may not glorify God in all that we do.

I don't expect a car dealer to give me a car. I don't expect them to not make money off of the car they're selling me or the car I'm trading in. I do expect to be treated respectfully with full explanations and choices each step of the way. Treating the customer as a person deserving respect goes a long way in transforming a workplace.

How we treat each other is how we reflect Christ's love. That's how we turn our jobs into the high calling of our daily work.

24-Hour News Cycle (Audio)

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

During election years, the 24-hour news cycle is bad news for me. I want to keep up with everything. As for the candidates: they can never let their guard down.

Besides public speeches, a candidate's every statement, every gesture, every response is open season for reporters. Someone's always there with a pencil, a camera, a tape recorder. Wow! What if our every word was fodder for world headlines? "Today's top story: In Big Presentation, Joe Smith Fudges on Numbers."

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. In the Bible, Jesus tells us that one day, every word spoken in darkness will be heard from the rooftops. That's a news broadcast worth keeping in mind . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight, and what you have whispered in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed from the roofs.
Luke 12:3

Life on the Slippery Slope (Bible Reflection)

Steve Gibson — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 06:00:00 GMT

Bill was at one of those defining moments. He didn't know at the time, and I doubt he realizes it now. But I remember it well.

Sales were down and the stress was high. In fact, I couldn't remember tension levels being so high. Employees worried about their job security. Others feared pay reductions. No one felt secure, from top to bottom. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Then one day in the midst of this company-wide trial, manager Bill made a business error in judgment, one that seemed to rise above all the rest. Actually, it wasn't that horrible, but it wasn't a good time to slip and fall. Once discovered, I waited to see his response—there was no hiding this gaff—and I wondered about what he might do. Blame his staff? Target his difficult workload, and thus indirectly blame his boss? With all of the uncertainty flooding the workplace, I knew he faced a world of fears. And I really wondered, "How strong is his integrity?"

Integrity represents the sum of a number of virtues. The term can be applied to many different life situations, from honesty to loyalty, from an act of humble service to forgiveness. As Christians, we define this sum of virtues by what we learn from God's word. In some sense, integrity represents a value system by which we can measure our own spiritual growth.

However, it's often far easier to meet a high standard of integrity when faced with few or no problems. Integrity is less about what you do in the good times and more about what you do in the bad. Life on the slippery slope is self-revealing.

Saul found that out the hard way. In 1 Samuel 13, Saul and the army of Israel faced the powerful Philistine army. Samuel instructed Saul to wait seven days for him to arrive so that burnt offerings could be made to the Lord. But when Samuel didn't show at the appointed time, Saul found himself on a slippery slope. The odds looked bad, really bad. In fact, his men were fleeing and hiding. Was Samuel going to be a no-show? Instead of waiting patiently for Samuel, Saul could stand it no longer and offered the burnt sacrifices himself.

Of course, Samuel did show up.

But the real problem was Saul's response to getting caught. Samuel expressed disgust over Saul's decision to proceed with the sacrifice, and he asked, "What have you done?"

Saul replied, "When I saw that the men were scattering, and that you did not come at the set time . . . I felt compelled to offer the burnt offerings" (1 Sam. 13: 11-12).

These words revealed Saul's integrity, his value system. Although Saul continued as king, he lost the kingdom that day. Perhaps a more honest answer could have softened the end result, I don't know. Certainly, King David would fess up to big mistakes. He suffered for his bad decisions, but David remained king and a "man after God's heart."

And Bill? There are times when bosses give authority to staff members and if they do not perform as asked, rightfully so, the blame should be on their shoulders. On the other hand, sometimes people take blame when there's no need to take it, which can be unwise. However, in this case, it was clear that Bill made the fateful decision. He had pulled the trigger.

When Bill was confronted with the error, he didn't hesitate. "Hey, this one is on me," he said. "It's my fault."

We'll never know how much courage it took for Bill to give that answer, especially under such dire circumstances. It would have been much easier to try and deflect fault in some other direction, but he didn't. I was proud of Bill for that. In fact, I wrote a very positive note to his boss.

Such decisions are rarely black and white—which is why they are so difficult. So we must call on God to direct us and give us wisdom. Perhaps that's the final element of true integrity. We move beyond cookie-cutter solutions, because they can sometimes create more problems than they solve. Instead, we call on God to help us make the right choice. It's never easy, and we may make a bad decision every now and then. But that's life on the slippery slope. Through it all, we trust God to change us as we look to him and desire to live a life in his Kingdom.

Where Are You? (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 06:00:00 GMT

In the Garden of Eden, Adam sinned—then he hid. And God called, "Adam, where are you?"

Remember the game "hide and seek"? Mark Roberts, our director at Laity Lodge, hears echoes of that game in God's call.

Of course, God knows where we hide. God's question revealed Adam's hiding place to Adam. When God asked, "Where are you?" he was reaching out to Adam, seeking fellowship . . . even in the face of rebellion.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. God's questions have nothing to do with what he knows. They have everything to do with what we don't know. Calling "Where are you?", God woos us out of hiding—from him and from ourselves. Where are you? . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

Step of Faith (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 06:00:00 GMT

As the final piece of the SPIRIT series of posts, I’ve applied the principles of SPIRIT to my life. The following post serves as an example of SPIRIT applied.

A disturbing image jumped to the forefront of my awareness about a month ago when I watched a documentary called Ring of Fire: The Emile Griffith Story (2005). It portrayed the culture of the late fifties and early sixties as well as boxing. It stirred in me some long forgotten memories including some warm feelings of watching Friday Night Fights with my dad. Emile Griffith was a frequent boxer on these televised fights. He was one of my favorite fighters. The image was Emile Griffith pounding a fighter, Kid Paret, into submission and eventually death.

The darker memories of fear, violence, and death came quickly. First the name, Benny “Kid” Paret, stirred a negative response. For years, I didn’t know who Kid Paret was, but when they spoke his name a visceral almost angry response rose within me. It didn’t make sense, but I never spent much time thinking about it—until I saw this documentary.

Emile Griffith held either the world welterweight or middleweight championships for most of the time between 1961 and 1968. He was a skillful and dominant fighter. Paret and Griffith met three times with the welterweight crown on the table. It was the third fight that gives me pause. I have no recollection of the fight, but I think I may have watched it with my dad.

There are two reasons why I believe this to be true. One was the joy my dad and I had watching sports together, especially Friday Night Fights. The second and more compelling reason is the visceral reaction to the mention of “Kid” Paret. Why did I want to turn away or scream, “No!” whenever his name was mentioned? I didn’t remember anything about him, but I reacted almost violently.

When I was in my early teens and perhaps before that whenever I took a blow to the head, I would go home, sit in my room, and wait to die. This irrational fear of death was so shameful to me that until I watched this documentary I’d never mentioned it to anyone.

I began to pray about what this documentary meant in my life. Was God telling me something or was it merely an interesting piece of nostalgia? I really wasn’t sure. The next day, during our weekly office devotional time, someone brought up a point that was like pulling a trigger in my mind. Perri, our Director of Development, mentioned a letter from a camper. In the letter this boy wrote about the fun he had at camp. He mentioned the counselor who could belch for fifteen seconds, donut races, and other fun activities. Then the boy made a quick mention about Jesus and closed his letter. Perri pointed out the philosophy of camp and its emphasis on fun.

For me, the “aha” moment hit. I chimed in about how the brief images of Jesus connected with fun will be with that boy forever. The name “Jesus” will be connected to a warm and wonderful time in that boy’s life. Too often, religion forces images of our own personal shame and unworthiness onto our understanding of who Jesus is. For me just the opposite had taken place. A brief image on a TV screen had influenced me over a lifetime.

As I continued to pray intentionally about the documentary, another insight came to me. I’ve written before about how kids are keen observers but poor interpreters. If I did see that bout with my father, he never said anything to me about it. He left me, a ten-year-old boy, who witnessed a brutal beating to just sort things out for myself.

I don’t blame my father for that. It was way too introspective for him to even go there with his youngest son. For me, however, I take the opportunities to explain what I think my girls have observed, no matter how controversial or sensitive. I’m not shy about interpreting life to them. Of course, they have many more experiences than I am witness to. And these inappropriately or inadequately interpreted experiences will help shape their lives also.

I grew up with an irrational fear of death, and it has shaped who I’ve become. I’ve applied the lessons of SPIRIT and tried to internalize what I’ve learned. It seems that this is an issue of trust. Internalizing what I’ve learned through reflecting on this incident has deepened my faith. It has helped me to understand that there is a part of me that wasn’t able to fully trust. I needed to control what was happening in my life. Circumstances, events, reactions (both mine and others) all brought anxiety into my life. It may sound strange but in the past month, I’ve noticed that my anxiety level has been reduced. Situations where I would normally be very anxious produced little or no anxiety.

If this is truly transforming, it will make an incredible difference in my life. No longer will I struggle with letting go of things I can’t control. I know this is a process, but I’m inching closer to being able to give things to the Lord and not to worry or try to control outcomes. It’s a tremendous step of faith.

Integrity Begins With Small Things (Personal Reflection)

Gordon Atkinson — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 06:00:00 GMT

When I was 16, a man in our church offered me a job for the Christmas holidays. A local department store needed extra help, and he wanted to hire me to sell small appliances there.

I was surprised at the job offer because I knew absolutely nothing about small appliances. I made milk shakes with my mother's blender on occasion and used a hair dryer in the mornings. But that hardly made me an expert. The man assured me that he could easily teach me everything I needed to know for the job. That didn't seem possible, but I needed the money. And he was an adult. At 16, I had been taught to respect grownups, and I had faith in their wisdom and experience.

We met at the department store the following Monday, and he took me to the small appliance department where they sold things like curlers, makeup mirrors, hair dryers, blenders, and toaster ovens. I received an official customer service badge from the department store and simple instructions:

"Whatever your badge says, you don't work for the store. You work for me. And I work for Brand X.* Just wander around the appliance section. When someone asks which appliance is the best, tell them Brand X is the best."

According to this man, Brand X made the best toasters, blenders, deep fryers, curling irons, hair dryers, and blenders. Everything Brand X made was the best of its kind, and it was my job to tell this to the customers.

And just like that, I was introduced to the dark side of the business world. Everyone was in on the con. The store agreed to allow Brand X employees to pose as customer service experts because they didn't have to pay for additional employees at Christmas. The real employees were briefed about our presence and were happy to let us interact with the customers. It made their jobs easier as well.

I had a sense that something was wrong about the whole thing, but my trust of adults and authority was so deeply instilled that I put aside my sense of right and wrong and handed over my moral authority to the man who signed my paycheck. For two weeks, I dutifully patrolled my three or four aisles and posed as an expert in small appliance wares.

What I was doing was clearly wrong. I was a liar and a fraud. But denial was so easy. The man who hired me was a family friend and a church member. He didn't seem the least bit ashamed of what we were doing. It was just business to him. The store managers and employees seemed to think it was okay. So it was easy for me to cede my responsibility to the authorities and go along.

But my conscience told me the truth. I hated my job. I felt guilty about what I was doing. I found myself hoping that customers wouldn't ask me for help. It was a long two weeks, and I was so glad when they were over. I could have told my parents what was happening and quit the job.

I was in high school and really didn't need the money. But I didn't want to offend anyone or cause my parents to lose faith in a member of our church. It was easier to go along with the whole thing. So that's what I did. I told myself this wasn't a big deal. The Brand X products were probably as good as the others. No one was really getting hurt. I slipped across an important ethical line with hardly a second thought.

The truth is, the small ethical dilemmas we face are very important. They prepare us to deal with harder, more complex issues with more at stake. Had I followed the leading of my conscience in this small and relatively easy circumstance, I might have found some of the more difficult decisions that I faced in the next few years easier to deal with.

Small ethical decisions prepare us for the more important ones. If you can't stand your ground for the little things, you probably won't for the big ones.

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*The manufacturer's name has been changed.

No Clear Choice (Bible Reflection)

Camy Tang — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 06:00:00 GMT

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding. For through wisdom your days will be many, and years will be added to your life. (Prov. 9:10-11)

I can't count the number of times I wished God would just zap me with the right answer to a problem. Sometimes I need to make a decision in a sticky situation at work, and while I'd like a clear signal what to do, more often God simply gives me wisdom.

One weekend, I was growing cells for testing compounds. I had to set up an experiment on a weekend evening because of our fast-paced testing schedule.

After I painstakingly harvested the cells and counted them, I realized I didn't have enough cells for the experiment.

I had two options:

(1) I could reseed the cells and wait for them to reach the correct number, but that would mean delaying the experiment and messing up a very rigid test schedule.

(2) Or I could go ahead with the experiment, but the lower cell numbers could possibly compromise the results.

It was ten at night on a Sunday. I couldn't call my supervisor because she and her entire household were asleep. What was I going to do?

Why not pray? I have absolutely no one else to ask. God is always awake. I don't always hear God clearly, but I have nothing to lose now. Maybe he'll give me some weird sign to tell me what to do.

I prayed. I waited for a clear sign from God, a "nudge" in my spirit or a fantastic idea that just popped into my head.

Nothing.

I prayed again.

Nothing.

I started to panic. The cells were going to die soon if I didn't make a decision.

Maybe God just wanted me to make the decision on my own. If so, I still needed help. I prayed for wisdom. I thought about the two choices. Then I chose option one as the lesser of two evils and messed up the test schedule. I wasn't sure about the decision, but I trusted God had given me the wisdom I needed to make the better choice.

My supervisor wasn't happy when she heard about it on Monday, but she also realized I had no good choice, and said she'd have done the same thing I did.

So what did I learn from this?

Sometimes God doesn't give clear direction (like a sign written in cells under the microscope: "Reseed"), and that's okay. He has given his children wisdom to help them through certain situations, even those as trivial as deciding what to do about a low cell count.

I honestly believe God did direct me at that time, even if it wasn't a handwriting on the wall. It opened my eyes to more ways God can guide me, in ways not so obvious.

Integrity (Ramblin' Dan)

Dan Roloff — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 06:00:00 GMT

More than moral correctness, integrity also stands for the soundness of the whole. Testing the integrity of a building has nothing to do with morality, but everything to do with the condition of the structure. It's a good metaphor for moral integrity.

I can cheat on my expense account and rationalize it by saying, "They owe it to me anyway for all I do for the company." Or I can be tempted to cheat on my wife and say, "No one will ever know." Or I can just get tired of going to another large staff meeting because, "It's just a waste of my time." Giving in to these temptations diminishes our spirit. It eats away at the soundness of our being. We are spiritually weakened because of it. It damages our integrity.

So, while we're continually bombarded by moral choices, our prayer is to lead us not into temptation in order that we may stand before God as wholly sound people. Our integrity is not only measured by our ability to withstand the big threats to our character, but also the tiny fissures that weaken the soundness of our souls.

Just Plane Faith (Personal Reflection)

L. L. Barkat — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 06:00:00 GMT

I despise flying. Sorry for the strong word, but it's true. From the moment I step on a plane, I get this queasy feeling. When the aircraft rushes down the runway and shudders into the sky, I feel faint. The whole time we're airborne, I feel weightless, but not in a good way. More like I'm being dangled over a pit of tigers—and the air between my toes and their teeth is far too thin for my liking.

Imagine the torture it is for me to fly to my annual business conferences. New York to Chicago is bad. New York to California? Unspeakable. All those hours suspended over the tiger pit. If only I could sleep, I could ignore my fears. But no. I fidget. I snack. I get up and go to the bathroom too many times. It's all enough to make me want to stay on the ground.

That's all in a year's work. But there are days, weeks, even months when my faith also feels like a flight to California. I hurtle down some theological runway, and I'm sure this time I'll crash. I fuss and fidget and worry that everyone is going to know I really can't do this faith thing . . . I've got insurmountable spiritual problems, too many doubts to qualify as a Christian.

This is one reason I love the Bible so much. I love the honesty of the people who wrote about faith giants who seemed likely to be disqualified. This honesty makes it possible for me to go to Moses and hear him say, with chutzpah, “Enough already, God. You birthed this people. I don't want to lead them anymore.” Or I can listen to Abraham accuse, “Are you really going to destroy the good people of Sodom and let everyone think you're just a bully in the sky?” I can get out of the boat with Peter, having trusted Jesus, only to realize that in fact I'm about to drown. I love the Bible for giving me permission to be afraid or angry or doubtful about faith.

I say the Bible gives me permission, because it's not silent on these matters. Rather it speaks plainly about people who didn't want to get airborne, were afraid of tigers (both real and hypothetical), didn't have enough courage to sit in the exit row and open the door in case of emergency. And I see that faith is not the complicated business I sometimes make it out to be. Instead, it simply requires that I take the trip, step in, stay on, listen for instructions.

Fidgeting is allowed.

Right or Wrong? You Can't Have It Both Ways (Bible Reflection)

Helen M. Mitchell — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 06:00:00 GMT

A handyman and a mortgage broker built their businesses with a heart toward serving the Lord through their work. This was easy enough as long as business was profitable, clients many, and problems few. Of course, problems always show up eventually, and often they present an opportunity to choose Christ's way.

For the handyman, going into business for himself had been the perfect choice. It allowed him to put his years of construction experience to work taking care of his community's many unmet "honey-dos." In the process, God used him to mend fences as well as broken hearts through his living testimony of God's grace. His reputation was how he did business, and Jesus was the reason why he did it that way.

When a difficult and demanding client challenged the handyman's integrity, the unexpected accusations against his work ethic, honesty, and reputation came like a gut-punch. Beyond the quality of his work, she was challenging his values.

He knew the client was wrong. With all his might, he wanted to tell this unreasonable woman he was done and just walk away.

But he found himself drawn to God's Word.

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a workman who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of God. (2 Tim. 2:15)

OK, so what should I do, Lord? he asked.

. . . first go and be reconciled to your brother . . . settle matters quickly with your adversary . . . (Matt. 5:23-26)

And then what, Lord?

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Rom. 12:21)

How do I do that, Lord?

Do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. (Luke 6:27-28)

It cost him something to do good to this woman who was cursing him. He paid with his pride. He paid with lost wages. In his mind, his actions were about representing a God who is true and right. God won.

A mortgage broker was faced with a choice to write popular mortgage loans that were legal, but just didn't feel right. He found himself forced to choose between serving God and serving money. "I refuse to write those loans," he told one prospective homeowner after another. But really, who would blame him? Refusing these loans would cost the business millions. And everyone else was doing it, so it must be okay—right?

One night, with the questions tossing and turning through his mind like a tennis match, he got up and sat with his Bible, daring to see the truth in God's Word.

Use honest scales and honest weights . . . I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt. (Lev.19:36)

Cheating others would be cheating God of his glory in the business. That would not be right.

No matter what the financial profit, writing these loans would cost him favor with the Lord, since

The LORD abhors dishonest scales, but accurate weights are his delight (Prov. 11:1).

In the end, it did cost his business millions. It also cost him his lifestyle. But when the mortgage industry imploded soon after, he knew he had made the right choice for his relationship with Jesus.

Let God weigh me in honest scales, and he will know that I am blameless (Job 31:6).

Integrity always costs us something. But isn't a healthy relationship with the Lord worth the price?

Following God in a Secular Workplace: Part 3 of 3 (Bible Reflection)

Matt Dickerson — Sun, 21 Dec 2008 06:00:00 GMT

<< Read Part 1, Conform or Transform

<< Read Part 2, Rise to the Top

At work in a secular workplace, Daniel and his three friends Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah face a number of challenges. When their nation is defeated and the temple of their God is plundered and the plunder taken to the temple of a Babylonian god, it would have appeared to them that the gods of Babylon were more powerful than the God of Israel.

In the workplace today, it is difficult not to be awed by—and bow down to—the power of those who control our paychecks, or those who determine whether or not we get that promotion. It can be hard to believe that our God is more powerful than our boss.

Daniel and friends also had their very identity as God's people challenged—by the changing of their names, by their secular education in Babylonian ways of thinking, as well as by a diet of nonkosher meat that had almost certainly been sacrificed to Babylonian gods. They were promised a life of luxury if they only were willing to compromise God's moral code (for the good of the company).

However, Daniel and his friends refused to compromise. They chose a life of integrity and obedience to their own God—no matter how unpowerful their circumstances may have made God seem in comparison to Nebuchadnezzar and his gods. And through these four men, God's glory is proclaimed across the known world by the most powerful king on earth. What a story about four men having a workplace influence!

Daniel and his friends, rather than conforming to the culture of their workplace, are transformed by God. They even become transforming influences. How? There are two more parts of this story—two principles lived out by the four heroes—that we must explore.

First, none of these men go it alone. They have a community of like-minded believers who support one another. Indeed, they are fortunate enough to have that community and nurture it within the workplace environment. Consider that the names Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego are never heard individually. They are a trio. Inseparable. Say the name Shadrach and anybody around you who knows the biblical stories will immediately think of the other two. When these three refuse to bow down to the idol, they do so together. When they go before the king and give their famous defense, they speak with one voice: "If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king." Together, they are thrown into the fiery furnace. And they come out together also.

Daniel experiences some of his trials alone, but we know from the first few chapters just how important this community of four men is. When Daniel resolves not to defile himself with the royal food and wine, he does so with the aid of his friends (Dan. 1:8-17). When Nebuchadnezzar has the dream that his wise men cannot interpret and threatens to put them all to death, Daniel doesn't just try to handle it alone. He again goes back to his friends and explains the situation and urges them to pray together (Dan. 2:14-18). When Daniel is promoted, he makes sure to get promotions for his friends also.

Second, Daniel is committed to prayer. This is perhaps the most important principle in the book of Daniel, especially in understanding how it was that our four heroes not only survived in their faith, but actually thrived. A prayer of petition is their first response to the king's threat to put his wise men to death. When God answers that prayer, Daniel's next response is a prayer of praise (Dan. 2:19-21). Daniel is a man of prayer—of fervent regular prayer (Dan. 6:10). One of the most amazing visions and prophecies of the Old Testament comes to Daniel in response to his commitment to fervent prayer (Dan. 9).

Even when prayer is outlawed and punishable by death, he does not cease to pray (Daniel 6:6-10). Interestingly, Daniel's prayers are in some sense private—they are real conversations with God and not just acts to be seen by men—but they are not hidden. His coworkers, including those hostile to his faith, know that he is a man of prayer (Dan. 6:5,13).

We can resist the conforming influences of the workplace culture. We can choose to follow God and to find our identity in him. But it will be a battle. There are as many forces arrayed against us as there were against Daniel and his friends. Indeed, the attacks we face will be many of the same ones described in Daniel, though in a modern context. As with most battles in the Christian walk, this one will not be won without prayer. God is more powerful than any of the gods of this world, even those who control your pay and promotions. He gives us community (though we must choose to practice it). And he is eager to have us depend on him in prayer.

___________________________________________

<< Read Part 1, Conform or Transform

<< Read Part 2, Rise to the Top

Following God in a Secular Workplace: Rise to the Top, Part 2 of 3 (Bible Reflection)

Matt Dickerson — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 06:00:00 GMT

In the book of Daniel, four men are taken from homes where they have been taught to worship God and transplanted to a secular university and then a secular workplace. Near the end of the first chapter and again later in the book, we are told how God gave these young men incredible knowledge and understanding. Eventually, they rose to the top of their professional fields. In other words, God richly blessed these four young men—and not just in typically spiritual ways. He blessed what we might call their "secular" knowledge, a well as their careers in a "secular" workplace.

This story suggests that no knowledge is secular, and no workplace is secular. Indeed nothing created by God is secular, but all is intended to be sacred.

Not only that, but over the working lifetimes of these men, we read several times about how the kings of Babylon—the most powerful nation on earth at that time—end up praising and proclaiming the glory of God. (See Daniel 2:46-47; 3:28-29; 4:1-3; 4:37; 6:25-27.)

How is it that Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah hold fast to their faith and have such a transforming influence in Babylon? Many of their fellow captive Israelites ended up conforming to Babylonian culture and were never heard of again. Partly, we're back to the various forces I discussed in the first article of this series. There are forces intent on breaking their faith and identities as men of God and conforming them to Babylonian ways of thinking. When Nebuchadnezzar plunders the temple of God in Jerusalem and orders the names of the men to be changed to names honoring the Babylonian gods, there is little they can do.

But then comes the issue of food. The four young men are to eat the king's choice food (1:5). That doesn't sound too bad, right? Much better than living in poverty back in the occupied territories of Israel and hoping to get a few grains of barley a day after the tax collectors take the best of it. Daniel and his friends could have lives of luxury rather than lives of slavery. A great deal. Except the food would include meat that was non-Kosher and that had been publicly sacrificed to the Babylonian gods. In other words, the food was one more attack on their faith and identity. To eat the king's food would be direct disobedience to the commands of their own God.

What do Daniel and his friends do? They request—and eventually receive—permission not to eat the supposedly good stuff. Instead, they live on vegetables. What a difficult decision that must have been! Who could blame them if they had simply taken what they were given? After all, what choice did they really have?

This is not an abstract question we ask about something that took place 2500 years ago, but a question many Christians are faced with in today’s workplaces. Too often, we are asked to do something that contradicts God’s moral teaching for the sake of the company or the university or the team or the practice. Yet in faith, and at great personal risk—though also with an attitude of respect for those in authority over them—Daniel and his friends chose obedience to God.

Hair Dryers and Eternal Significance (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 30 Nov 2008 06:00:00 GMT

As a manager for a company that makes hair dryers, Gary believed his organization had no eternal significance.

Then he thought. He thought about the jobs his company provided—everything from executives to warehouse laborers. The work enabled all of them to provide for their families.

But Gary wanted to make more of a difference. He persuaded the company's president to set aside some of the profits. They formed a foundation benefiting those who had lost their hair due to cancer.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. Gary gets it! Taking our faith into the workplace makes our work more than just a job. Every day opens new ways to serve others and glorify God . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not men . . . (Eph. 6:7)

God Cares About Soap and Cars Too (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Recently, I had lunch with a friend, and we found ourselves talking business. He wanted to honor God openly at his advertising agency. He said, "It's humbling to see your spiritual work because all I do is sell soap and cars. Your goals are so much loftier."

I shook my head. Listen! Christians aren't passively awaiting Jesus' return. We don't keep day jobs just to mark the time. Our work is more than a way to just make money. It's a way to honor God.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. Sell cars and soap with excellence, integrity, and enthusiasm! Your job dignifies yourself and others if you do it to glorify God . . . in the high calling of our daily work.

A man can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment? (Eccl. 2:24-25)

Writing the Gospel in Pepperoni (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 19 Oct 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Our friend Tony is a Christian who makes pizza. No, he doesn't spell out Jesus with the pepperoni. He says, "We can try too hard to show we're Christians. As if putting Jesus on our business cards is an endorsement from God."

So how does Tony take God to work? Through strong relationships with his staff. He listens to them. He prays for them. His relationship with Jesus is no secret. Believe me, every pizza Tony makes has Jesus' name on it.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. If you are a Christian, everything you do has Jesus' name on it. It's a great responsibility, but one that should motivate us all … in the high calling of our daily work.

And 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. 3:17)

Redline Panic (Personal Reflection)

Steve Gibson — Sun, 12 Oct 2008 06:00:00 GMT

The workplace can be a hotbed for the unexpected. We rarely see those unnerving events coming—you know, the ones that take us out of our normal routine and cast us into fearful uncertainty. Some surprises are rather small and stressful, others catastrophic. But at the time we face them, anything unexpected can seem overwhelming.

I think back to my piloting days, now long gone. These days I favor an exit row seat on American Airlines, but I enjoyed many wonderful years of adventure in a private airplane. You might be familiar with one danger of flying a small aircraft—the “spin.” Although uncommon today, accidental spins were a serious issue before World War II. In fact, many pilots lost their lives.

Here’s what happens: Most accidental spins occur during landing, usually when a pilot fails to execute a coordinated turn. One wing stalls while the other still supports lift. The stalled wing drops and suddenly the airplane is spinning vertically toward the ground. The pilot is usually caught completely by surprise.

Imagine a pilot turning on final approach to land. All seems normal, and then suddenly he is falling out of the sky, straight down, and spinning. The ground fills his window shield and is closing fast. Panic pushes aside rational, logical thought. Everything in him screams to raise the nose of the airplane and return to level flight. His natural instinct is to PULL BACK ON THE CONTROL STICK and stop the dive.

But that’s the worst action he can take.

To do so will only prolong the stall and the spin.

First, he must reduce power and stop the rotation by applying opposite rudder. Then—and here’s the hard part—he must push the control stick FORWARD, or in a down position until the stall is broken. That’s a hard action to take when the airplane is already pointed straight down. It goes against his natural instincts, but it’s the one action that can save his life. Only once the stall is broken can he raise the nose of the airplane to return to level flight. Like the accidental spin, life at work can dish out all kinds of surprises too. They always seem to come when least expected and at the most inopportune moment. At such intersections, our soul wants to react instinctively. Unconsciously, we lunge to protect ourselves. We want to run for our lives.

Sometimes those instincts can be dead-on.

But, sometimes not.

Our instincts may direct us to do or say something more harmful than good. We may find ourselves aggravating the spin rather than escaping it.

Proverbs 14:29 says, “Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who has a hasty temper exalts folly” (ESV).

These words can apply to many life experiences. But when I’m surprised by the unexpected, this Proverb reminds me to stop and be still. When my daily routine is staggered by a painful event, my vision narrows and I often fail to see the big picture. At such times, I like to do three things.

Pause. I step back before making any major decisions or saying anything I may later regret.
Pray. I take time to pray about the situation, praying for wisdom.
Sleep. Really, I like to “sleep on it.” I’ve discovered that something as simple as a good night's sleep can help clear confusion and all the emotions swirling around inside of me.

These simple, but often overlooked action steps help me refocus on the situation—and on God. More times than not, I move in a different direction than my instincts told me to go the day before.

Of course, not all circumstances allow us time for reflection. But most do. And then, your decisions need not be rushed. By taking time to pause, pray, and even sleep, we can help insure that the sudden shock and confusion of an event don’t drive us to a place that’s worse than the one we face.

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You can read more of Steve Gibson by visiting Gibson Direct, one of the many sites in our network at HighCallingBlogs.com.

Our Current Financial Crisis (Wisdom from Howard E. Butt, Jr.)

Howard Butt, Jr. — Tue, 07 Oct 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Dwight Lacy is the Chief Financial Officer for the H. E. Butt Foundation. Last week he shared his understanding of the current financial crisis. We think he did a fantastic job explaining a complicated situation in as simple a way as possible, and we thought you might like to read it (or even share it with your friends).

In particular, he has some good words of encouragement for us toward the end of his article.

Some folks are predicting the market will come back as soon as fall 2009. It may do that. . . . We’ve dealt with these issues before as a country. It will be a slow recovery, but we will recover.

Dwight's analysis is called How We Got Into This Mess.

Easy Street Prayers (Personal Reflection)

Marlo Schalesky — Sun, 21 Sep 2008 06:00:00 GMT

I hate it when God says no. And that day, He said "No" with an exclamation point.

The winter sun shone through the clouds like a dirty tennis ball and glinted off the windshield of my GMC Jimmy. I gripped the steering wheel tighter and glanced down at the roofing specification I'd written months before. My stomach fluttered with the bumping of the road beneath me. Today was the big day. I couldn't afford for anything to go wrong.

If only my competitor doesn't show up.

The university's parking garage loomed in front of me. I sighed and shot a final glance at the sky before guiding my Jimmy into the huge concrete structure.

Lord, I've worked so hard for this customer. Can you just keep my competitor from coming today? Please? In Jesus' name. Amen.

As soon as the words fell from my lips, I turned the corner and saw it—a bright red Cadillac Seville, circling the building like a shark on the hunt. My competitor's car.

I pulled into a parking space and dropped my head to the steering wheel. Obviously God had heard my prayer. And he had given me his answer—a big, fat NO!

Hey, what about all those promises in Scripture?

Didn't Jesus say, "If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer" (Matt. 21:22)? And what about Luke 11:9, "Ask and it will be given to you" and John 14:14, "You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it." So, how could God say "no" to me now?

Instead of the Scriptures making me feel hopeful, they suddenly seemed like God's way of thumbing His nose at me. Was God really mocking me? As if in answer, I watched the red Seville circle the building one more time before it parked. My competitor got out.

I grabbed my spec and trudged into the university's facilities office. Minutes later, as we made our way to the roof, my competitor started in with his jibes. Through the entire job walk, he continued his adversarial assault. I knew it, I thought, as I started my presentation.

Why couldn't God have just said yes?

On the way home that day, I thought about the prayer I prayed in the parking lot. What was really at the heart of my prayer? As I considered it, I realized my prayer had been "make this process easier for me" and "give me some security in my job." God had answered "no" to that. I had used Jesus' name, but I had not prayed in his spirit. I had been praying for the easy way, the way that required less faith and less dependence on God, instead of more. Maybe it was time to evaluate my prayer life and make some changes.

How often do I pray "the easy way" for myself and others? When my friends or family are sick, I pray for healing. When they are out of work, I pray for a job. So many of my prayers consist of things like this. "God, give me a parking spot close to the store because it's raining today." Or "Please help me know the answers on the evaluation test." Or "Please make all the lights green, I'm late for work."

But God isn't in the business of making life easier. Rather, he's in the business of growing my faith and making me rely on him rather than circumstances.

Since that day in the university parking lot, I've learned something. When God says no, it's not because he's a mean ogre or he didn't hear my prayer or I didn't pray hard enough or use the right prayer formula. Instead, God's no often means he is working intimately in my life, sculpting my circumstances in order to grow my faith.

Even though I'd still rather hear "yes" to all my prayers, I'm beginning to see that sometimes "no" isn't such a bad answer after all.

Blood Money (Personal Reflection)

Joy Jordan-Lake — Sun, 14 Sep 2008 06:00:00 GMT

One of the most powerful lessons I've learned on integrity came as a result of deceit.

Years ago, I spent a couple of days and one night as a homeless woman, with a total of one quarter to my name—for a graduate school assignment, I should add. I already owned drawers full of old jeans and T-shirts, so the wardrobe was no problem. And as I talked with other women at the Salvation Army shelter that night, I never needed to lie about who I was, just let them assume—and keep quiet about the job I held or the safety nets of education and family to break my fall should I ever lose that job.

A product of the suburban middle class, my assumptions about integrity in the workplace had to that point involved the simple, obvious “Thou Shalt Nots.” Thou shalt not embezzle funds, waste company time, use a corporate credit card for Caribbean cruises. I don't suppose I'd ever thought of integrity as assertive or risky. Until Rhonda.

She was a pretty young woman with a restraining order that provided little actual protection from her abusive husband. Rhonda began confiding in me. She told me about her flight from home, the children she'd secretly sent on a bus to her parents' house, and her determination to find work, fast, so she could reclaim her children. She assumed we were in similarly desperate circumstances—and no doubt I looked how I felt: unwell—because I was feeling physically ill with the part I was playing, and feared for her safety.

We shared breakfast at the shelter and traded dreams for the future. She asked if I had any money. I didn't. Not on me, at least.

So without hesitation, she offered to give me the only money she had in the world, the money she'd earned by selling her own blood the previous day. Giving it to me, a virtual stranger, because I was homeless and desperate like her, she assumed, and because she had it to give.

If the definition of integrity is how one behaves when no one is looking, then Rhonda set a new standard for me. Because no one was watching but me, just another homeless woman like her. She had nothing to gain from helping me, and everything to lose. She offered to help only because, she explained, it was the right thing to do. Because God had provided a way for her to earn money, a fortune of fifteen dollars, and that meant she could share with me.

“God sees us,” she told me. “God knows we need help. Here . . . let me help you with this.”

She tried to press bills in my palm. She would trust me, she said, to pay her back when I could. There I stood, stunned, being offered abundance from the heart and the pocket—the actual blood—of an abused homeless woman.

I didn't take the money she offered. It seemed safer to risk hurting her feelings by insisting I couldn't accept it than to risk not being able to find her again and pay her back the money she needed to eat, to survive. She shook her head, smiling a little, assuming it was pride that made me gently close her fingers back over the bills she held out to me. So she hugged me, and made me promise to avoid particular streets, and to meet her later that day. She, the petite, destitute young woman on the run from a brute of a husband, wanted to be sure I was safe.

I'd like to tell you that I was invaluable to Rhonda later, back when I'd returned to my middleclass graduate student life, and that through my assistance, she landed the job of her dreams and regained her kids and now lives in a neatly kept bungalow with daisies at the front door, and that I visit her daily. The truth is that I never found my friend again. It's likely she heard from or spotted her husband and she'd had to flee, or that he'd gone to threaten her children and she'd had to find bus fare to go protect those she loved.

In any case, I was of absolutely no help to her. Except that I prayed for her and still do. Unfinished business is what that memory feels like to me as I pray. She, though, continues to help me: In making me live with a perpetually uncomfortable sense of unfinished business about others' pain around me, an uneasiness that nudges me out of my selfish little shell just when I'd rather not be bothered with someone else's misfortunes.

I may have refused to take the money she offered, but I did take much from her: the lessons her life taught.

All these years later, I understand how the demands of professional life often insist we watch bottom lines and marketing results. But I still need to hear over and over the lesson Rhonda lived out, about risk and real concern for doing what's right—not just in theory, but in the hard, practical Now. About how we behave when we think no one of consequence is watching and there's nothing to gain in caring about someone else's well-being. About what God sees of who we are and what we're about: integrity.

Our Lives' Contradictions (Audio)

Howard E. Butt, Jr. — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 06:00:00 GMT

Here's a list that made me chuckle. These are actual comments to the National Forest Service from visitors to our parks.

∙ One person suggested escalators on hiking trails.
∙ Another thought more signs would keep the parks pristine.
∙ One complained that the mountains had too many rocks.

These contradictions are humorous, but some contradictions in our lives are not so funny. We want secure finances, but strain our credit. We want good health, but overeat and skip exercise. We're lonely, but mistreat others.

This is Howard Butt, Jr., of Laity Lodge. The National Forest Service attests: contradictions are part of human nature. But it's no joke. We can control our contradictions . . . in the high calling of our daily work.