Great Expectations

DavidRupert — Fri, 24 May 2013 06:00:02 +0000

Have you communicated clear, written expectations for each of your employees and the jobs they perform? We like to think that everyone knows exactly what they should be doing, but the truth is they often do not. In fact, if you compare your expectations with theirs, you may be surprised at just how far apart they are! Christian Faith at Work.

http://christianfaithatwork.com/the-number-one-problem-with-accountability/

Author Name:

Chris Van Patten

What “The Office” Teaches Christians about the Workplace

Bob Robinson — Thu, 23 May 2013 18:00:04 +0000

The finale of “The Office” had me laughing and even close to shedding a tear. For nine seasons, we watched as a PBS documentary crew filmed a bunch of people working in the Scranton office of the Dunder Miflin paper company. As we peered into the lives of these ordinary office workers, we could identify with them from our own office experiences.

We could relate to having a boss that is so narcissistic that it makes everyone miserable. Whether he would say things completely inappropriate (“That’s what she said”), or do something completely awkward, Michael Scott made us either laugh or uncomfortably squirm in our seats. Who can forget when he initiated “Diversity Day?” To show how much he “understands” race issues, Michael spoke to Kelly with an over-the-top stereotyped Indian accent, which earned him a deserved slap in the face. Michael’s response? He turned to the rest of the office and said, “Now she knows what it’s like to be a minority!”

We could also relate to the office romance between Pam and Jim. As the film crew documented the goings-on in the office, we could see the two falling in love but unable to make the necessary move to start a relationship. Even after the two finally kiss, we were frustrated as obstacles continued to get in the way of their romance. We were genuinely happy as they became engaged and finally married.

Speaking of Jim, perhaps the most memorable moments of the show were when he would prank his co-worker Dwight. Dwight’s annoying idiosyncrasies could have driven Jim mad, but instead, Jim decided to make the most of it by pranking the guy. From when Jim placed Dwight’s stapler in a Jell-O mold to when Jim came to work dressed as Dwight and mockingly imitated him (“Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica”), to when Dwight stumbled upon a long-lost prank that Jim created to make Dwight think that The Holy Grail was hidden at Dunder Miflin (see below), we laughed at these office shenanigans until it hurt.

Certainly the crazy scenarios, wise cracks and awkward situations were amazing bits of comedic brilliance, but what made this show excellent was that it was about the people. We got to know the characters. We came to care for them. The American version of The Office changed the formula of the original British version.

“The original ‘Office,’ with its endless shots of paper-stacked desks and droning copy machines viewed the workplace as fundamentally soul-sucking, the place where one ran out the clock on life, molested by monotony, unchosen colleagues, and bosses like Ricky Gervais’s David Brent, a man so keen to be recognized he would do any embarrassing, inappropriate, cruel, or disrespectful thing to seem cool,” wrote Willa Paskin recently at Salon. “Steve Carell’s Michael Scott was re-envisioned as buffoon motivated not by the desire to be cool, but a desire to be loved.”

When Michael Scott finally found a relationship with a woman with whom he finally found mutual love, we were genuinely glad for him. When, in the final episode, Jim’s last prank on Dwight was to arrange for Michael to come to Dwight’s wedding, we saw the love that these men have for each other—Dwight’s love for Michael as he is so happy to see him and Jim looking at the camera and saying, “Best. Prank. Ever.”

In the final episode, we saw how all these office dwellers genuinely cared for each other. We realize that it is at the workplace that many of our most significant relationships are forged. It is at the workplace where we most often seek meaning for our daily tasks and pursue friendships that we hope can be genuine.

There are still some Christians that do not see the significance of the workplace. They have been told, either explicitly or implicitly, that what really matters is what goes on at church or in the mission field. They say that we should be careful of putting a priority on our work and be wary of those non-Christians in our workplaces. There are yet other Christians that are convinced that unless they radically plunge into missions or use their work skills in some ministry that they are some sort of second-class Christian that God looks down upon.

But it is in “The Office” (or the factory, or the clinic, or the school, or the restaurant, etc.) that we are called to work for God’s glory, to do good works, to love our neighbors, to forge real friendships, to serve others, and to show people what it’s like to have Jesus Christ in our lives.

Want to use your skills in ministry? Want to connect with people and help them to discover Christ? Want to serve people? Want to be in the mission field?

You’re already there.

Image by Salty Bear. Used with permission. Sourced via Flickr.

Post by Bob Robinson, Faith Editor for The High Calling and Executive Director of The Center to Reintegrate Faith, Life, and Vocations. He can be found on Twitter at @re_integrate.

Author Name:

Bob Robinson

Full Circle

DavidRupert — Thu, 23 May 2013 12:00:04 +0000

He drew a smiley face underneath the day circled in red on the family calendar. I wasn’t nearly as giddy, and all I could really manage was a weak smile and an acknowledgement of the inevitable.

While he was counting down the days until he left home, I still felt a sad certainty of resignation. For 18 solid years, we had prepared for this moment. When a bird nudges the chick out of the nest, it’s for their own good, we’re told. But there’s still some trepidation in every parent. “Was he really ready?” The boy-man was now well on his way to becoming a man-boy.

I put off going into his room for a few days. When I finally walked in, it seemed like it was void of oxygen. Then I looked around and laughed. There was a cereal bowl in the corner of the room. A single sock hung over the chair like a flag of surrender. A tattered Michael Jordan poster hung on the wall. And there was my missing Phillips Screwdriver.

He had boxed his valued treasures that would follow him after his military training was complete in a year. The rest of the stuff he didn’t care about and told us “just get rid of it.”

I couldn’t resist looking through the box of possessions he left behind. I pulled out his stuffed bear, Fred. We got him to make the tonsillectomy seem a little less daunting. He had marched into the hospital, chin high, face resolute. “No big deal.” But he clung to that bear afterwards.

And then there were loads of books, such as the dozens of volumes of the Star Wars series. Those galactic tales had fueled his young mind and actually helped propel his ambitions. Now, he was off to serve his nation to control the rotating orbs just beyond the earth’s atmosphere. Fiction is now reality.

I remember him sticking his arms out like wings while aloft on my shoulders, making sputtering sounds like a 1920 pilot. He was five then. That seemed forever ago. Who knew he would be a new recruit of the Air National Guard?

He left behind his Children’s Picture Bible, and I remembered those days when he would climb on my lap, turning the pages faster than I could mouth them. I read; he listened and would eventually fall asleep. When he got old enough, he read, and I was the one who fell asleep.

Turning tables

I never made much money, and I never really cared if my boys do either. I just want them to live lives of integrity and truth and for them to follow the God of Abraham, Isaac, and down the line right to the Ruperts—Adam, Gordon, and David. The sins of the fathers—and mine—are painfully obvious. But the grace of God is stronger yet. That’s legacy.

For a while I wanted my faith to be their faith. But it’s a much better place for them to wrestle with God, to have their own limp and scars as proof. So, I pray and love.

I wonder if this is how my parents felt. A lifetime of transitions. As a baby, I needed my parents for everything. Then I toddled off into foolish independence, learning the meaning of “no” and “don’t put that in your mouth.” Each year I grew a little more autonomous, awkwardly finding myself on my own.

And there were those foolish years when nothing my parents said was right, or sensible, or intelligent. Funny how years later I took a turn at being the dumb parent. It’s amazing how the tables turned and how they are turning.

He’s been gone from home a decade now. When he called yesterday, his number lit up my phone and my day was instantly better. We talk about work and his new camper-trailer and his dog. I give some advice about life that sounds vaguely familiar. All the things my parents told me, I now parrot as if it’s some kind of new wisdom.

Full circle.

Image by Patricia Hunter. Used with permission. Sourced via Flickr. Post by High Calling Newsletter Editor David Rupert.

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Author Name:

David Rupert

The Long Nose of God

DavidRupert — Thu, 23 May 2013 06:00:03 +0000

The Hebrew word for "slow to anger" is literally "long of nose." But God is "long of nose," meaning that it takes much longer for his wrath to kindle. Yes, he bristles at injustice, and rightfully so. But he is slow to anger. And he does not hold to resentment indefinitely. Christianity Today.

http://www.thehighcalling.org/hcb-community/work/long-nose-god#.UZtjLrX1eSo

Author Name:

Christianity Today

A 10-Hour Hotel Stay Renewed One Journalist's Faith in America's Economy

denadyer — Thu, 23 May 2013 17:41:36 +0000

When Daniel Gross, a reporter for The Daily Beast, stayed overnight during a road trip in a mid-price hotel, he found more than just comfort. He found an ordinary business, doing an extraordinary job. Weary of high prices and faulty infrastructure in his hometown (and in the nation's capital), Gross reveled in all the things that worked, among them: free wi-fi, hot water, king-size beds, a large-screen high-def television, and a simple—but important—wakeup call.

Gross says, "[This chain of hotels], and many of its analogues around the country, unpretentiously provides a level of comfort, functionality, and value that we generally take for granted and would be available only to the well off and well connected in many other parts of the world."

Books on Culture: The Life of the Body, Week Three

duane_scott — Wed, 22 May 2013 10:00:04 +0000

She’s only a girl—a girl with fire engine red hair and a thousand freckles. She limps on shrunken legs across the commons room and slides weakly into a chair at a glass table. Glancing around the room, she looks at those of us in scrubs like she’s figuring an escape route and when her eyes land on me, I notice the prominent cheekbones, the sunken eyes, the weariness.

Behind her, on the TV, a sultry, skinny lady eats yogurt and she murmurs with each bite like she’s making love.

I pray the young girl doesn’t notice.

At the tender age of eleven, she has been diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, a condition in which the individual obsesses about their weight and the food they consume.

And now, sitting at a glass table so we can see if she sneaks food away, she struggles to eat 300 calories. She pushes food around on her plate and she says over and over that she’s full, that she will throw up if she eats another bite.

And I feel my stomach lurch as well, when—later—she whispers, “I just want to be skinny, like mom. Maybe then dad will love me too.”

When her parents came to visit, concern shows in bags under their eyes and in their worried smiles and I think about how they’re so nice; how they’re so…beautiful. And I wonder about their slim physiques—the perfectly toned legs, the bulging arms—I wonder what their daughter sees when she looks at them.

In The Life of the Body Valerie Hess writes:

We are bombarded everywhere with the “ideal” man or woman. Men are told to be “Ralph Lauren tough” while getting in touch with their “softer side”. Despite years of feminist ideals, most women’s magazines still focus on weight loss and diets that include all the chocolate cake you can eat. Men’s magazines use sex appeal to sell everything from cars to suitcases.

After the parents are gone, I think about the girl and how all she wanted was to be thin like mom and when she became thin, she wanted to be thinner. And every dessert she turned down was one desperate step taken toward love—and we do this too, as adults, don’t we?

We look at those ads and a little part of us who says we aren’t enough wishes for more. And when we measure ourselves against culture’s perfection, we subtly succumb to an unrealistic belief that if we achieve that six-pack or that bikini body, we’ll finally be worthy of love.

Really, all we’re doing is trying to fill a void, an emptiness, and it’s bigger than food or the absence of food. It’s bigger than the advertisements. Although the root of many issues, it’s even bigger than our culture’s message.

It is not, however, bigger than our God. When we can accept the worth of ourselves in His eyes, we can finally accept our worth in our eyes. This acceptance plays out in our lives and the scales and the mirror become a guideline, not a lifeline to measure our worth. Our diet becomes balanced with warm brownies, carrots and a lot of God’s love.

As Valerie writes:

By surrounding ourselves and the children in our care with influences to counterbalance those that popular culture presents to them, we ensure that culture’s images do not subtly hijack the gospel message.

“For God so loved the world…” that gospel message ushers me into humble appreciation that He loves me—love handles and all—and when He looks down, what He sees instead of my flawed exterior are the things that really matter… that which is within.

On Mondays in May we'll be discussing The Life of the Body: Physical Well-being and Spiritual Formation by Valerie E. Hess and Lane M. Arnold. If you've posted on your blog about the book, leave your link in the comments. Or, just jump in the discussion! This week we're giving away two copies of this lovely book! Just leave a comment below and you'll be entered for a chance to win. Winners will be announced on next Monday's book club post. Join us next week as Sandra Heska King finishes up our discussion with chapters 9-11. Our June book selection is Decisive: How to Make Better Choices in Life and Work by Chip and Dan Heath. Get your book and join us in June.

Image by Greg Annandale. Used with permission. Sourced via Flickr. Post by Duane Scott who blogs at Scribing the Journey.

Author Name:

Duane Scott

Star Trek and the Image of God

Jonathan Ryan — Wed, 22 May 2013 15:00:03 +0000

Two behemoths rule the world of sci-fi: Star Wars and Star Trek. The two franchises have spun off movies, books, toys, and conventions. They've made piles of money, and dominated the pop cultural imagination. And they still manage to explore what it means to be human.

In many ways, these stories ask the same question theologians have asked for centuries: "What does it mean that humanity is fallen and yet still made in the image of God?"

Fans of both franchises will tell you Star Wars and Star Trek explore different sides of this question. In the original trilogy, Star Wars built a warm, pulsing, "lived-in" world that explored the emotions of humanity. Star Trek raised "loftier" questions and explored the world of human ideas.

The two maintained separate orbits, until this spring when George Lucas sold the Star Wars franchise to Disney who tapped J.J. Abrams as the director of Episode 7, the first of a new Star Wars trilogy. The Geek world’s collective brain froze from too much excitement. Why? Because Abrams is already in charge of Star Trek, having re-launched a successful re-imagining of that franchise.

In other words, if there is one person to do it, it’s Abrams.

Abrams' past science-fiction efforts have engaged both sides of the Image of God question—emotions and intellect. For example, in his movie Super 8 he explored the suffering and beauty of childhood, never offering pat answers, but allowing us to meditate on the questions.

In his latest installment, Star Trek: Into Darkness, released this week, Abrams invites the audience to ask, "How should we react when threatened or wronged? Should we respond with revenge, or with justice tempered by understanding?" Here, he centers the story on Star Trek mainstays, Captain James T. Kirk (Chris Pine) and Kirk's second-in-command, the Vulcan Spock (Zachary Quinto). Both are called on to meet with other officers after a rogue Star Fleet officer, John Harrison (played by the amazing Benedict Cumberbatch), commits a terrorist attack.

Why would Harrison want revenge against seemingly honorable people? How could anyone hate Star Fleet, an organization that protects civilization and promotes understanding through exploration of the galaxy? These questions drive the plot.

Yet we know that even when places are at their most idealistic and beautiful, whether home, vacation, or work—people can compromise their beliefs. And when a few unfaithfuls neglect to do what they should, they can poison the entire culture of an organization. As Kirk and Spock learn about Star Fleet commanders, their notions of faithfulness are challenged. A clear-cut case of bringing a criminal to justice turns into a complex, moral dilemma, and the audience gets a glimpse of how human justice can twist into revenge.

Alongside the main characters' wrestling through lofty issues, Abrams still gives us friendship, humor, and genuine sadness, indicating his future worth to the Star Wars franchise, too. For now, he is indulging his inner "Trekkie," exploring philosophical questions of justice and revenge with spine-tingling results. Not an easy tightrope to walk for any storyteller.

In the end, Star Trek: Into Darkness reminds me of why Abrams is one of the best science-fiction storytellers of our time. He shines a light on our broken humanity and reveals aspects of the image of God to us, while we eat our popcorn.

Post written by Jonathan Ryan. Jonathan is the author of the upcoming Urban Fantasy novel, 3 Gates of the Dead. He can be found on Twitter at @authorjryan. Images courtesy of Star Trek: Into the Darkness.

Author Name:

Jonathan Ryan

Avoiding the Success Trap

Sam Van Eman — Wed, 22 May 2013 12:00:03 +0000

Some might say that insecurity is my vocational Grim Reaper. I’d prefer to see it as ingenuity keeping things fresh.

Either way, the traditional success story of rising to the top eludes me because I don’t stay on any work path long enough to go "Big." I get bored, say yes to the next shiny opportunity, or fill my life with so many engaging tasks that the old stuff I was just getting good at gets squeezed out.

Insecurity or ingenuity? Both, I suppose. On one hand, I say yes to most requests because of the accompanying affirmation. "Sam, can you do this?" translates into, "Sam, you’re awesome. Nobody else on the planet could do it like you could. When can you start?" To which I inevitably reply, "Tomorrow, or as soon as I can set aside what I was just doing, whichever comes first."

On the other hand, my mind is like a compost pile. The more I churn it and add to it, the more useful it becomes for a variety of crops.

So it’s both. Yet in both cases, I miss the chance of experiencing full potential in any specific aspect of my career, let alone my career in general. This may sound, well, grim, but the reaper has appeared at a slew of premature endings over the years. Does this mean I’ve failed? Not really. Where some take a singular path to the top, I enjoy side trails. In fact, I'm quite happy to be where I am in life. I'd even say that this is roughly where God wants me to be.

Such contentment, however, does not let me ignore the wisdom I found in an article at the Harvard Business Review blog. Greg McKeown, inspired by Jim Collins’ book, How the Mighty Fall, suggests that "'the undisciplined pursuit of more'…is true for companies and it is true for careers."

His progression goes something like this:

Phase 1: When we really have clarity of purpose, it leads to success.
Phase 2: When we have success, it leads to more options and opportunities.
Phase 3: When we have increased options and opportunities, it leads to diffused efforts.
Phase 4: Diffused efforts undermine the very clarity that led to our success in the first place.

That sounds about right. Fortunately, McKeown offers three insightful tips, and not just for those who share my "undisciplined pursuit of more." Read The Disciplined Pursuit of Less here.

Image by Andrew Sorensen. Used with permission. Sourced via Flickr. Lead-in by Sam Van Eman, Young Professionals editor and coach at The High Calling, and narrator of A Beautiful Trench It Was.

Author Name:

Sam Van Eman

Working Hard With Jake of Neverland

glynnyoung — Wed, 22 May 2013 11:00:05 +0000

I’m sitting in the first part of a day-and-a-half meeting, one I was shoehorned into at the last minute. To attend this meeting means my work schedule, already jam-packed and high-stress, is wrecked. I should write a book of business theory called Management by Chaos.

For several months, this has been my work life—crisis-ridden, every day a frenzy of activity, more work piling up, important work forgotten or neglected in the crush of new priorities and new crises. It’s not pretty. Or much fun. Days often pass in a fog.

I’m sitting in this meeting, and I’m thinking about a sword fight.

Days before, my wife and I visited my oldest son. His house is the only place in the world where I’m greeted by a three-year-old voice yelling “Gampaw!” as the bundle of energy himself flies into my arms, followed by a one-year-old bundle of energy crawling as fast as he can behind his older brother.

We played trains (Brio and Thomas the Tank Engine), we play race cars, we play stuffed animals, and we have sword fights. I’m holding a Jake of Neverland pirate sword, which talks if you press the button. The three-year-old is holding a piece of orange plastic Hot Wheels racetrack.

En garde.

I’m not thinking about management by chaos, the crisis du jour, the stretch of meetings facing me in the coming week, the wall of work that is waiting at my office—a wall that will not be scaled any time soon.

I am thinking about lying on the floor, in the exact position dictated by the three-year-old, as we watch Jake of Neverland on television. This is the 21^st century version of Peter Pan; the only characters I recognize are Captain Hook, Mr. Smee and the crocodile. But the two of us lie there, content just to watch, until the one-year-old comes crawling in search of us.

Unless you’re a grandparent, it’s difficult to understand the joy of grandchildren. It’s not just that you can give the kids back at the end of the day, or that it’s all the fun without the responsibility.

I’m with my daughter-in-law in the kitchen while she’s cooking and I’m feeding the baby something delightful like strained peas. About half of the spoonful of peas stays in his mouth while the other half dribbles down his chin. I scoop it up and push it right back in his mouth, laughing the whole time.

“It drives me crazy when he does that,” she says, “and you’re just cracking up.”

I nod, laughing as I scoop another chin-load. “You have so many things to do,” I say. “Food to cook, diapers to change, clothes to fold, dishes to wash, house to clean, all the stuff of little kids.” I pause, spooning another wad of green. “I just have to be.”

Kids need to understand the doing and the being. They need the structure of doing and the joy of being.

Grandparents need it, too.

I may be sitting in my day-and-a-half meeting, listening to yet another consultant tells us how to solve all our problems. It’s possible that we might listen this time. The work is important, often critical. We accomplish things that are often downright amazing.

But I’m thinking about work that is just as critical, just as important.

Like making goofy faces with a one-year-old in a high chair to distract him while you slip another spoonful or peas or carrots in his mouth.

Or laying out the Brio train track is some new convoluted and entertaining way.

Or crossing swords to see who will make off with the pirate’s treasure.

En garde.

Image by Dave C. Used with permission. Sourced via Flickr. Post by contributing editor Glynn Young, author of A Light Shining.

Author Name:

Glynn Young

Calling in Sick When You’re Not

DavidRupert — Wed, 22 May 2013 14:21:28 +0000

It’s common for millennials to see their parents, teachers, and managers call in sick when they aren’t. American workers take about 2.8 million days of unplanned absences a year. But one postal worker logged 44 years without missing a day. Reliability is one of the 7 core values that every employer considers a non-negotiable. Reviving Work Ethic.

http://www.revivingworkethic.com/reliable-work-ethic-on-display/

Author Name:

Eric Chester