Brow Sweat, Part 5: Cooperation

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     With apologies up front to football fans, an NFL game is the silliest thing on earth. Twenty-two men line up, eleven facing eleven, with an odd-shaped ball between them. Play starts with the ball moving away from the goal line. In the next few seconds, eleven players do their best to keep the ball moving backward, while the other eleven do their best to reverse the direction in which the ball started. Success is measured in three-foot increments. Hundreds of millions of dollars are expended. Meanwhile, here’s an unassailable fact: my three-year-old granddaughter could move the ball farther and faster if the twenty-two big boys would simply get out of the way, all for a handful of M&M’s.

     Here's my fantasy football scenario. Picture a residential street, new, with no homes along it yet. Make it a cul-de-sac, just for the sake of maximizing the cozy. On each side of the street are five foundations, ready to have houses built on them. The buses roll in and the players pile out. Tools and equipment are issued to each. Object of the game: to see which team can build the best five houses soonest.

     Offensive linemen become hod-carriers, mixing the mortar and hauling the brick. The secondary gets started on framing. Special teams become electricians and plumbers and HVAC. Defensive linemen get to hoist twelve-foot sheets of five-eighths drywall straight onto the ceiling joists, while the kickers shoot the screws. Wide receivers become roofers. Quarterbacks… hmm, well, I guess every jobsite needs a foreman. Everybody gets to do something worthwhile.

     In this scenario, ten houses go together, to be occupied by ten households who turn the structures into homes. Everybody wins; nobody loses. In a word, it’s cooperation instead of competition.

     Economists tell us that competition drives innovation forward and keeps prices down. Within a certain context, I can’t disagree with them. But the certain context assumes, up front, that cooperation isn’t possible. Looks like we need a broader context.

     Have you read the end of the story? Whatever your end-times beliefs are, one feature of eternity is unmistakable: there will be one King, unopposed and unquestioned. From the Prophets through the Epistles and into the Revelation, Scripture points to a time when time is obsolete and the plan that was from the beginning comes to total fruition. Permits have already been issued; ground has been broken.

     What kind of work do you do? How does it fit with the end of the story? If you can identify many aspects of your work that seem to correlate with God’s finished plan, my pastorly advice would be: Rejoice! If not, please don’t despair. Instead, ask the Holy Spirit to show you how your work fits into the plan. There will be more ways than you could think of on your own. And that’s not just a dime-store promise from me, but rather a solid scriptural principle based on the following verse…

    Therefore, my beloved brothers and sisters, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain (1Corinthians 15:58).      

     Hey, Church, in the Lord your labor is not in vain. Hear it again: in the Lord your labor is not in vain! Believe it. Own it. Let it permeate whatever work you do. Your labor is not in vain. Maybe the understanding of this promise is still in the future, but that doesn’t make the promise any less solid.

     All of us have had nights when, laying head to pillow, we wondered whether anything we did during the just-gone day was worth anything at all. Did a needle move in a good direction, anywhere, even in the tiniest degree? It’s a condition that’s plagued me all of my working life. Viewed through a microscope, very few days will appear fruitful.

     Our Father, our King, gives us a better lens, a telescope and portal into that broader context. Even now, we work for one King, as I pointed out in a previous letter. Competition is so pre-Christian. Jesus initiated the kingdom and the kingdom to come. It’s all headed that way. Read the end of the story again, and ask the Lord to help you focus your work to resemble, more and more, what is certainly and astoundingly on its way already.

     At this advanced age, I’ve come to groan over competition, especially when cooperation would move us ahead so much quicker and better. Companies – churches, too, for that matter – stepping on one another’s heads, grinding competitors into the turf to gain a few yards here and there. And if it’s not according to the finished plan, then it’s not just for nothing, it’s all for loss.

     This will be the last letter in the “Brow Sweat” series, my humble attempt at explaining why-the-heck we humans get up off our tushes to work, anyway – to describe the nature of work in the Creator’s creation. If there’s any encouragement to be had from these letters, perhaps I could sum it up as so:

·         Christians are headed toward a better Garden than Adam and Eve ever had

·         Sin has separated us from God, but not negated all of original blessing

·         Jesus has given us a preview of all the best parts of what’s to come

·         We get to be sanctified – made more like Jesus – as we travel on the way.

    With these encouragements, I hope you are strengthened. I hope you build resolve, not by gritting teeth, but by rejoicing in work. I hope you see more of the kingdom coming every day.

     If I get the boldness, I’m going to call up the commissioner of the NFL and pitch my fantasy scenario. I’ll bet Habitat for Humanity would approve. (Maybe Habitat has made the call already?) I’d love to see what twenty-two very large, very strong men could do on a building site when, instead of banging their heads together, they’re putting their heads together. 

  

Grace and Peace (and boldness to cooperate),

 

John

Brow Sweat, Part 4: Mythbusters

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Of all the myths we could choose to bust, this is the one I want to poke on today: the myth of work/life balance. For a few letters now, we’ve been considering the nature of work. We’ve seen that work is not a consequence of sin: the first two humans had great jobs before sin even became a thing. We’ve seen that work is not a curse: humans still prosper by working. We’ve also seen that – however many bosses we’ve had, good or bad – we ultimately work for the King of all creation. In this letter, I hope to undo the idea that work and life are mutually exclusive.

     Get a visual with me: an old-fashioned scale. There’s a vertical part, a horizontal part that pivots, with a pan hanging from each end. When items of equal weight are placed in the pans, the horizontal part is level – the items are balanced. All is good, until something – anything at all – lands on one pan and not the other. The top part goes a little sideways… or a lot sideways.

     Now imagine Work in one pan and Life in the other. How do we keep the top part from going sideways? We could add from the Work pile and the Life pile in equal amounts at the exact same time. Good luck with that. I can add from one pile, but as soon as I turn to grab from the other, the whole thing goes wonky. Am I telling the truth?

     Now throw away the whole scale metaphor, and let’s go with another:

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus speaking).

     Literally, a yoke is the beam of wood connecting two draft animals – maybe oxen – so that their pulling efforts can be combined. Metaphorically, to take on the “yoke” of a rabbi (teacher) meant to submit to his teaching. Jesus uses the literal and the metaphorical in harmony: The rest that he’s offering is not the end of working; if there were no more work to do, he wouldn’t be talking about a yoke. Jesus integrates work and rest – Work and Life – rather than separating them.

     Somewhere in my going-to-church memory, I heard a preacher give an illustration that involved a fellow out for a morning walk. The walker went past a site where a cathedral was being built, and spoke to three bricklayers in turn:

    “Good morning, sir! What are you doing?”

    “Mister, I’m just puttin’ one brick on top of another.”

    He walked on and addressed the second: “Good morning, sir! What are you doing?”

    “I’m working this job to put food on the table for my family.”

    The third bricklayer got the same greeting: “Good morning, sir! What are you doing?”

    “I’m building a great cathedral where the faithful will come and worship God!”

    In the preacher’s illustration, the idea was to promote the third response as the only one worthwhile. But I would contend that all three responses are solid. 1) Brick walls don’t go together all at once; somebody has to put one brick on top of another. 2) Trading work for money is not a bad gig when it provides for one’s family. 3) Keeping the end goal in view brings satisfaction in the present.  

     I’ve punched enough time cards to know that the division between work and life is not entirely artificial. I’ve had more than one boss who, in effect, has said, “Your heart may belong to Jesus, but on the clock, your *** belongs to me!” We’ve all had plenty of those days when, if work follows us home, there will be no life. The question, then, is this: Why try to balance two things we’ve determined to be mutually exclusive?

     Jesus offers a better way. Look again at the Scripture and tell me: Does Jesus mention taking the yoke off? Indeed, putting the yoke on brings rest – and not just plain ol’ rest, but rest for the soul. It’s an odd concept, but it’s worth sticking with. Jesus isn’t offering another thing; he’s offering a different thing, and that’ll take some time to see.

     He offers integration over separation. It’s like all three bricklayers’ responses rolled into one: the wall goes up; the paycheck is earned; the cathedral gets finished. At the same time, life goes on and provision is made for worship and play. And whoever said worship and play can’t go to the jobsite? Certainly not Jesus. Integration erases the need for balance. And since balance is unattainable anyway, this should be happy news! It starts with three of the most beautiful words in Scripture:

    “Come to me…”

     With only a natural view of work, we will consistently fall for joy-killing ideas like “My work means nothing,” or “They’re not paying me what I’m worth.” But on the force of Jesus’ invitation – “Come to me…” – we can begin to see kingdom significance in everything we do, since Jesus is able to point it out to us. There’s further encouragement at the end of 1Corinthians, chapter 15:

    …knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain (verse 58).

     He’s not Jesus, but the poet Robert Frost assembled some words that lean toward the integration Jesus offers…

    But yield who will to their separation

    My goal in living is to unite

    My avocation and my vocation

    As my two eyes make one in sight.

    Only where love and need are one,

    And the work is play for mortal stakes,

    Is the deed ever really done

    For Heaven and the future’s sakes.  

     Having watched several episodes of Mythbusters with my grandson Austin, I know that some of their projects are more useful than others. If I’m driving a convertible and get caught in the rain with the top down, I could go faster and get a little less wet – or I could pull over, put the top up, and get a lot less wet. Oh, but the episode on the exploding water heater… I was paying close attention then! Knowing how to keep your water heater from exploding is mighty useful, but busting the myth of work/life balance has a far broader application. “Call the man, Aunt Bea,” if you don’t know how to make the water heater safe. For integrating work and life, definitely come to Jesus.

  

Grace and Peace (in work and play, play and work),

 

John