David Brooks offers well-written, often insightful commentary from a conservative perspective through his column in The New York Times. In his recent column on Haiti and aid “The Underlying Truth,” January 14, 2010, however, he missed the mark in what may seem like a minor way with major consequences.
Here is my summary of his argument. The recent 7.0 earthquake in Haiti brings to mind the 7.0 earthquake in San Francisco from 1997. By comparison, tens of thousands have died in Haiti compared with 63 dead in San Francisco. Poorly constructed buildings in Haiti made up the difference, leading to the conclusion that “what happened to Haiti was not a natural disaster. It was a result of poverty.”
This leads to his next argument: We are not very good at addressing poverty issues in other countries. Aid can be provided year after year, but poor and corrupt countries remain poor and corrupt. Aid breeds dependence. The only way out of this horrible cycle must come from within the culture and the country — not from others offering solutions to the problem.
There is a strong element of truth to Brook’s argument. The devastation of Haiti was vastly greater than in San Francisco. And the record of outsiders transforming nations through aid is poor indeed. Even aid from within a country doesn’t necessarily lead to nation building.
The Nobel Prize in economics was awarded to Muhammad Yunus for his pioneering work in microfinance starting in the late 1970s in Bangladesh, and it is reasonable to ask in what way this has transformed the country after so many years. Bangladesh remains a poor and corrupt country. Nation transformation remains an extremely difficult task that no one is very good at. Haiti, for all of the aid it has received over the years, remains discouragingly poor and corrupt.
But despite these good insights from Brooks, his general conclusions are deceptively and deeply misleading, I believe.
Good and Dirty Work
by John Terrill
On Discovery Channel's popular show, Dirty Jobs, Mike Rowe, the star and narrator, travels the United States serving in some of the most back-breaking, grungiest jobs one could ever imagine - jobs few of us would ever consider taking, even for one week. Some of his assignments have included road kill cleaner; mosquito control operator; turkey inseminator; and sewer inspector.
Mike reminds us that our jobs can tire us, frustrate us, and even slime us. Yet, our work can also make us feel most alive: being creative, building, and serving. Some of my most gratifying life moments come through hard, focused work-like mowing my grass, then admiring the straight lines; clearing out my email inbox after hours of dedicated, thoughtful responses; or finishing a writing project that has required careful research and sustained attention.
Experiencing the ups and downs of our daily work is something all of us experience. Genesis 1:28 records God's blessing of work and his first command to Adam and Eve to "be fruitful and increase in number, to fill the earth and subdue it..." But, as we know, this Edenic state didn't last long. In response to Adam and Eve's disobedience, God altered the way we experience work. Still a good and vital part of God's creation, work now carries with it elements of pain, toil, "thorns and thistles," and sweat. (see note 1) We experience frustration, conflict, achy muscles, and a slew of other obstacles alongside the satisfaction and joy of our daily labor. We both delight in our tasks and responsibilities, and, as the apostle Paul reminds us, "groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling." (see note 2)
Work and the Ministry of Reconciliation
Despite this reality, we have reasons for unshakable hope. God promises to make all things new, to usher in a day of permanent justice and well being. As Colossians 1:20 describes, there is nothing in this world that escapes the redemptive work of Jesus Christ, "whether things on earth or things in heaven." Christ is reshaping all that has been disfigured by sin. The grungy, hard and painful places of work and life are being restored.
But to flourish today, as workers created in the image of God, we, too, must incarnate God's commitment to both creational and renewal work. When serving a world that longs for re-creation, scripture tells us that Christ grants us the ministry of reconciliation. (see note 3) God appoints us as ambassadors of healing, justice, and shalom-to bear Christ's image and represent his mission as special envoys in a hurting world. (see note 4) Our ambassadorship not only includes the work of evangelism, but also sharing and exercising the Good News of Jesus through the meeting of physical and emotional needs. When we incorporate this sense of mission into our daily vocations, everyday moments are enlivened with possibility and hope.
The Eternal Impact of Our Earthly Work
Understanding our jobs as mission critical is necessary if we're to flourish in daily work, yet there's another crucial dimension that has often been missing in the life of the church and the faith at work movement. If we're to fully grasp and harness the gift of work, we must envision its eternal impact. Don Flow, a highly-respected owner of award-winning car dealerships across North Carolina and Virginia, captures this idea well. "How we understand the future of the world, the final destiny of Christian life, and how such a future impacts our life now, has profound implications for how we invest our time in the world." (see note 5)
Our capacity to be "salt and light" to a hurting world is enlivened when we allow the grandeur of God's future to shape our understanding and actions in the present. And one of the surprising realities of the future is that our work not only makes a difference in the "here and now," but for all eternity. Our work and works in the world are building blocks for heaven, showing up in real, material ways in New Creation.
This may seem like an outrageous claim. When you imagine heaven, you probably don't envision work, but rather all the things that will be different from the gritty realities of life on earth. No more tears, sorrow, death, mourning, violence and weapons. But the New Creation is depicted as a place both different from and similar to the world we know and experience now. For example, it seems we will keep working in the New Creation. Isaiah 65:21 tells of the redeemed building houses, planting vineyards, and enjoying the fruit of their labor. Work is still undertaken, yet experienced as it was intended, a blessing free of toil, sweat and injustice.
Not only does work remain, but some of our works seem to remain. The things we create in this life have the capacity to show up materially in the life to come. Revelation 21-22 and Isaiah 60 are highly instructive on this point. Consider for a moment that the trajectory of God's plan for the world is a garden city, and cities by all measures are hubs of culture. In Scripture's heavenly city, we see the riches of the nations, kings and political systems, animals under human stewardship and care, modes of transportation, precious metals and other building materials, as well as commercial enterprise, to name just a few. Isaiah 60:4-9 depicts the "wealth of the seas" being brought to the heavenly city, the great trading Ships of Tarshish sailing in with silver and gold, and herds of camels covering the land.
There are counter-arguments to what I am proposing. A nihilist view of the future of the world is one such approach, often anchored in texts like 2 Peter 3:10: "But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar; the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare." Within such a framework, a "lifeboat theology" often exists. Since the spiritual, non-tangible aspects of our lives are the only things with eternal value (everything else is destroyed by fire), our primary objective in this life is to rescue souls. As a result a larger view of redemption is often underemphasized.
A transformational view of the future of the world offers a more holistic approach-valuing both people and culture. Rather than all things being destroyed, everything will be tested, judged, and purified. As theologian and author, Richard Mouw, notes, "It is not the camels or the ships or the gold or the lumber that will be destroyed in the final conflict. Rather, it is the rebellious uses, the idolatrous functions, which seem under present conditions to be inextricably intertwined with these entities." (see note 6)
This makes sense. If all of creation was going to be destroyed, why then, as Romans 8:19-21 reminds us, would creation wait in eager anticipation for its final liberation? Rather than all things being burned, in the end, all things will be tested.
"If anyone builds on this foundation using gold, silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, their work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each person's work. If what has been built survives, the builder will receive a reward. If it is burned up, the builder will suffer loss but yet will be saved-even though only as one escaping through the flames." [1 Corinthians 3:12-15]
Guidance for Our Work-Related Decisions Today
This leads me to my final, and possibly, most controversial point. Some of the things we create might not have as high a probability as others of showing up in the New Creation. Their actual identity, either through the process of being created or in their final state, may be so at odds with God's character, that they will have to be transformed into something else for them to make it through the "refining fire." How we build and what we build matters!
Isaiah 2:4 offers an example. At the Mountain of the Lord the people of God "will beat their shields into plowshares and swords into pruning hooks. (see note 7) Weaponry utilized to kill and terrorize is so incongruent with God's character that it appears to have no tangible place in his restored kingdom. The building materials of the weapons survive, but are transformed from instruments of war into tools of agriculture.
Even if the products and services we create are functionally of the sort that we might expect to see in the New Creation, their eternal utility might be soiled by the spirit in which they were made or offered. The Tower of Babel serves as an example. Genesis 11 tells how the people of God constructed a tower and city that would both "reach to the heavens" and "create a name for them," rather than serve and honor their Creator. God was not impressed and frustrated their efforts by scattering the people across the earth and confusing their languages. Both city and tower, likely impressive structures with both aesthetic and functional value, were tainted by bad motives. It therefore seems improbable that remnants of the Tower would be taken up by God in the construction of the New Jerusalem.
Personalizing the ministry of reconciliation and embracing the eternal nature of our earthly work should shape our decisions. As we consider work and calling, we need to take continual stock of our motives, as well as assess carefully the industries we join and the kinds of products and services we create. Shoddy products have less temporal and eternal impact, as do products and services that don't enable people and communities to flourish. Alternatively, well-designed, high-quality products and services that honor God and serve people offer value here and now but also in the life to come.
Of course, there are many other factors to consider when making vocational choices, like personal interests, spiritual gifts, life experiences and learned skills. But recognition of the inherent goodness of work itself, a conscious awareness of our God-given ministry of reconciliation and the knowledge of the potential for our work and works to blossom in the New Creation, should guide our career decisions - and might just make the gritty, hard and painful places a bit easier to get through as well.
John Terrill is Director of the Center for Integrity in Business at Seattle Pacific University. This article originally appeared in Comment magazine, the opinion journal of CARDUS: www.cardus.ca/comment.
1 See Genesis 3:17-19.
2 See 2 Corinthians 5:2.
3 See 2 Corinthians 5:19.
4 Emmanuel Katongole and Chris Rice, Reconciling All Things: A Christian Vision for Justice, Peace and Healing (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2008), 45.
5 Don Flow, Bridging Sunday and Monday Conference, Seattle Pacific University, October 2007.
6 Richard J. Mouw, When the Kings Come Marching In: Isaiah and the New Jerusalem (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2002), 32.
7 See also Micah 4:3.
Whether bearish or bullish about the economy, there is no denying that business and management education are in a state of turmoil. The “new normal” will likely be something we’ve never seen before. A recent story on National Public Radio (NPR) captures this sentiment:
American Business Schools trained many of the people who had their hands on the tiller when the nation’s economic ship ran aground. Now, those in leadership positions at top business schools are asking themselves what degree of responsibility they share.
The schools had critics before the economic crisis cost millions their jobs and their retirement saving. Now, the critics are louder, and the questions they raise are being taken more seriously.1
Anger germinates, even abounds in this current environment, but not all agree about what should be done. In the same NPR story, Jay Light, Dean of the Harvard Business School (HBS), and Stephen Kaplan, Professor at the University of Chicago’s Booth School of Business, paint contrasting pictures of the current state of affairs in business education.
Kaplan takes a more optimistic view of the status quo, arguing that the reasons for the current crisis are multifaceted and cannot be attributed to MBA education alone. He states, “You look at the business world and the global economy since 1980, and it’s stunning. Productivity growth around the world has been terrific. You know, where did all this come from? There’s a huge success story of the tools of markets and economics that are taught at business schools.”
Light, alternatively, argues that the present crisis should serve as an opportunity for deep introspection and change. In fact, he has commissioned a Harvard faculty team to lead such an effort to ensure that the current moment is appropriately seized.
Wherever you fall in this debate, it’s clear we’ve approached a fork in the road, and the direction we choose will have important implications for the future. Business, with its far-reaching and increasingly interconnected stakeholders, will have difficulty absorbing the highs and lows of un-reigned market forces. Consider the chaos of just the last ten years: the dot.com run-up and bust; Enron and a myriad of other corporate scandals; the housing bubble and sub-prime collapse; and the ensuing credit market meltdowns, just to name just a few.