Why Christians (should) Make the Best Employees

I see a trend in my generation—and myself—that frustrates me.

I call it occupational apathy.

We punch a clock, go home, eat, sleep, and repeat, all the while not giving two #@$!s about our work. I don’t have a problem with factory work, or those who work by the hour. Many of those kinds of jobs are noble work that people do out of necessity, or love for their families, or maybe because they truly enjoy the work. The problem is that we don’t care about our work. I have a problem with how we do our work. And yes, the gun is pointed at me too.

Occupational apathy isn’t a new problem. People have been apathetic in every generation. Some generations may be more guilty than mine. The impulse to merely get by is too easy to follow. It’s not a generational problem it’s a human problem–as is usually the case.

What is even more frustrating is that Christians are just as guilty of occupational apathy as non-Christians. It’s frustrating because we, along with some other Theistic traditions, are the only people with any real reason—outside of self-interest—to care about our work. Sure you can subscribe to a naive kind of secular humanism and find some arbitrary reasons to work for some vague idea of the “greater good” of man, but in the end the reasons are just that: arbitrary! (my use of the word “some” should show you just how vague and unreasonable this stance really is)

The biblical narrative begins with God creating the world and giving a man a job. He gives the man a responsibility, something to take care of, something to subdue. Despite how you read the Genesis poem—I tend to think the modern literal interpretation is dubious at best—it is plain to see that work is part of what it means to be human. Work is part of who we are. We find a piece of God’s truth in creating, in focusing our wills toward construction.

This is why I love the idea in the Genesis poem that God put man in charge of a garden. He put the man in a place full of possibility and said,” Now make something beautiful!”

But most of the time we treat out work like a chore. We view working as striving. After all, being a Christian is all about being really “spiritual”, about leaving this world, right?

In the words of Paul in Romans 6, “Hell no!”

All people bear the image of God—a term that refers to carrying the authority of a king. As image-bearers we carry the authority and responsibility of God to order creation, to bring creation into alignment with God’s character. Because after all, we want to be just like our dad, our Abba, our kyrios, our Lord. We do this because we believe reality has been set up a certain way, and when we go against the grain of reality it hurts.

We know we fail at this primal mission every day, and we need to remind each other to pursue this purpose. So, Christians, think about how you do your work, or, do the rest of us a favor and don’t tell people you’re a Christian. The same goes for me.

Philosophy for Dummies

You ever have that moment when you are startled by the strangeness of the world?

It could happen when you are in an exceptionally “deep” mood.

It could happen when you’re driving your car.

It could happen at a funeral.

It could happen when you’re out for a run.

It could happen in the midst of a conversation.

It could happen because of certain substances that alter our orientation to the world (wink).

Star gazing. Walking the dog. Changing a diaper (probably not). Sitting. Gardening. Spelunking. You name it.

Any way it happens, there are moments when we become aware of the weirdness that anything exists at all. After all, who can answer the ancient question of why there is something rather than nothing. And in certain moments, we become aware of this great mystery. It’s like we wake up. We become like children again. There is a word to describe this moment.

Wonder.

Wonder is the beginning of philosophy. It’s like a mental defibrillator (I had to look up how to spell that).It is that moment of pure awe, when we are jarred from our routines and obligations and all the meaningless white-noise with which we fill our time, and we are confronted with the mysteries at the heart of our lives. Wonder ignites the conversations, the questions, the uncertainties, the journey toward greater awareness of our shortcomings.

Everyone is a philosopher. We all have a desire for truth and beauty. Some people just aren’t very good at keeping their eyes open, or they simply refuse certain questions, or they don’t want to acknowledge certain assumptions.

So if you’re going to be one, be a good one.

Read this book. Now.

Goodbye Don Draper

Marketing used to be easy. Back when we had three channels and no zip-zapper, a good marketing plan was based on interrupting your “scheduled broadcast” to bring your this “important message” from our sponsor.

Companies would spent loads of cash so that some box of cereal would go dancing and singing across the screen, and the vulgar masses would go running down to the Piggly Wiggly to purchase said box of cereal.

The communication was one-directional.

You could push advertising content by brute force, without permission from the audience, because that was all that anyone ever knew.

Limited content, limited choices, limited information; this created an atmosphere fit for the Don Drapers of the world (cue cat-call), who could dazzle an audience into a consumerist frenzy with a clever phrase or an entertaining skit. But now the game has changed and anyone who is in the business of sharing ideas needs to realize it.

Or.

They will be left behind.

Unlimited content, unlimited choices, unlimited information; this is the current situation, and it is not too friendly to the Don Draper type. After all, you can’t give scotch to a search engine.

Unsurprisingly, the interwebs have changed everything (Yes, interwebs). We now choose the content we see thanks to sites like Youtube, Hulu, Netflix, Vimeo, etc. Sometimes we can even choose the advertisements we watch. This is a new challenge for people who want to share meaningful stories—aka, marketers, preachers, politicians, humans of all shapes and sizes.

How do we get our ideas, our stories, to the people now that we have to ask permission to do so?

Good question.

Seth Godin—marketing guru extraordinaire—says it better than I can. Here’s a post of his on permission marketing.

http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2008/01/permission-mark.html