Faith at the office. Why not? -- USA TODAY, July 30,2007

On any given Sunday, members of my congregation request prayers for children diagnosed with cancer and victims of natural disasters — people facing extraordinary challenges. These requests are heartfelt, but as I collect them I notice that something is missing. Where are the prayers for the accountants, attorneys, automobile mechanics and other workers who have to face the challenge of an ordinary Monday morning?

Most of us don't make a strong connection between Sabbath spirituality and weekday work. But religious people need to practice their faith in the workplace if they are going to pursue their vocations with integrity. This means stopping work to pray at appropriate times, as faithful Muslims do. More broadly, it includes finding ways to integrate faith and work, create a more inclusive workplace and tap the resources of great religious traditions for ethical guidance.

And such behavior doesn't mean proselytizing on the job.

Since the 1980s, spirituality has begun to move into the workplace. The shift includes Jews, Christians, Muslims, Hindus and Buddhists, as well as people who describe themselves as spiritual but not religious. Though only about 50 workplace ministries existed in the early 1990s, more than 900 are in place today, says Os Hillman, a Georgia businessman who has written The 9 to 5 Window: How Faith Can Transform the Workplace. Such ministries encourage people to see work as a calling from God.

Dozens of companies — from Coca-Cola to Microsoft — are becoming more "faith-friendly" as they welcome the spirituality of their employees, allowing groups to meet for Bible study or to discuss business ethics with a religious twist. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta has a Christian Fellowship Group, and the management at Bear Stearns, a Wall Street finance house, endorses and funds a weekly Torah class. This faith at work movement is grounded in "desire for integration," says David Miller, a Yale professor and author of the book God at Work: The History and Promise of the Faith at Work Movement. Business people now want to bring their whole selves to work — mind, body and spirit — instead of having to "leave their soul with the car in the parking lot," says Miller, a former investment banker. Some want their faith to serve as an ethical anchor, helping them to do the right thing and stand up to unethical practices. Others apply faith in a very different way, using it as a spiritual balm that provides serenity through workplace prayers and meditation.

The faith at work movement is diverse and decentralized, but one unifying theme is the quest to integrate personal faith and professional responsibilities. Tom Chappell, CEO of the natural-toothpaste company Tom's of Maine, entered Harvard Divinity School at age 43 and then used his theological education to create a mission statement and business plan for his company. Not surprisingly, the plan was based on moral and ethical principles. Inclusiveness in the workplace

A parishioner in my church believes that encouraging workers to embrace their faith at the office creates a healthy work environment. "Their families, interests, beliefs and values should be included," Andy Wescoat, an executive in the energy industry, tells me. Otherwise, he says, people feel the strain of trying to lead separate lives.

On a number of occasions — sometimes one-on-one, sometimes in groups at work — he has mentioned a service project that he and a group of men from our church are performing in Honduras, only to discover that a number of colleagues are engaged in similar programs. Although this charitable work is not performed on company time, Wescoat wants workers to feel free to share such information about their faith lives just as they might share details about family life, hobbies or other "outside" interests.

There is a danger, of course, when religion is introduced outside of a church, mosque or synagogue.

"One man's witness is another's harassment," observes Jack Moline, rabbi of Agudas Achim Congregation in Alexandria, a Virginia suburb of Washington. He predicts that if he posted a banner in a workplace saying zei a mensch ("be a decent person," in Yiddish), many Christians would feel put upon, excluded and judged — even though the message is far from offensive.

So what can be done to blend faith and work in a constructive way? In Branford, Conn., Vance Taylor is a United Church of Christ pastor and real estate agent who attempts to link Sunday and Monday by demonstrating humility, fairness, concern and compassion in his real estate work — universal virtues, to be sure, but also examples of what Taylor calls "Christ-like actions." The idea of servant leadership, introduced by Robert Greenleaf of AT&T in 1970, stresses that leadership is a calling to serve others, and it pops up repeatedly in business literature.

"By truly first serving the other — thinking more of the other's needs than my own — I believe I demonstrate a style in my business that's atypical to many agents whose immediate concern is their commissions," Taylor says.

Bringing order out of chaos

When I teach classes on faith at work, I challenge church members to think of themselves as co-creators with God, and to evaluate their work according to how it follows the divine pattern of bringing order out of chaos, and creating something that is good (Genesis 1:1-5). This goal of divine-human consistency is true in Jewish as well as Christian thought. Rabbi Moline tells me that Jewish law shapes practices and values in all of life, from the honesty of weights to the safety of workers. Faith can be a powerful force for good in the workplace when it clarifies ethical standards, brings order out of chaos and creates something of value.

Wescoat, my parishioner, sees opportunities in the everyday assignments that accompany one's vocation. "There is a higher calling to what we all do," he says.

That "higher calling" can mean different things to different people. But one thing is certain: This movement to link work and spiritual identity is a promising development in the Monday-through-Friday world — and well worth remembering as we offer our Sabbath prayers.

Plattenbau Paul -- FPC sermon excerpt

Prefabricated concrete slabs.

I’ll bet you’ve never heard a message about prefabricated concrete slabs. But you know — there’s a first for everything.

These were the preferred building materials in East Germany, beginning in the 1960s. This communist country faced a severe housing shortage, so concrete slabs were used to build shoebox-shaped residential apartments in a quick and economical way. The advantage of these slabs was that they could be used as the building blocks of a variety of structures, from high-rise towers to rows of low-rise apartments.

The buildings were called “plattenbau.”

Literally, slab-building.

After East Germany and West Germany reunited, the demand for these ugly apartment buildings began to drop, and there are now about a million unoccupied units. While many plattenbau apartments are being renovated to meet a demand for more attractive housing, others are being torn down, and still others are falling apart.

All of a sudden, two young architects enter the scene — the Biele brothers.

According to Fast Company magazine (September 2006), these two are looking at the plattenbau apartments and seeing more than just the dwindling remains of communist culture. They are seeing raw materials.

These brothers are taking the concrete blocks from demolished apartments and recycling them into single-family homes. They get the slabs for nothing, and then their workers bolt the plates together, cut out windows, and put a finish on the exterior. These recycled slabs allow for construction savings of up to 40 percent.

Talk of the “communist bloc” is now ancient history. The buzz today is all about “concrete blocks.”

I am taking the time to tell you about these blocks because they relate to Acts 9. The story of Saul’s conversion takes on a new look when it is seen through the lens of this recycling effort. Saul is as solid and strong as a plattenbau apartment when he takes a stand against the Christians of Damascus — he is “a member of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew born of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless” (Philippians 3:5-6).

Saul stands tall against members of “the Way” — Jews who have come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah. He hits the road for Damascus, “breathing threats and murder” against these brand new Christians, and pledges to capture them, tie them up, and cart them back to Jerusalem for trial (Acts 9:1-2).

But a surprising thing happens on the road to Damascus. A light from heaven flashes around Saul, and he falls to the ground, like a high-rise plattenbau apartment building being demolished.

A voice says to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” He asks, “Who are you, Lord?” … and the reply comes, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting” (vv. 4-5).

At this point, you might expect Saul to be pulverized. After all, he is a persecutor of the church, one who has endorsed the killing of Stephen and engaged in “ravaging the church by entering house after house; dragging off both men and women, [committing] them to prison” (8:1-3).

You wouldn’t blame Jesus for sending Saul to the scrap heap.

But instead, he recycles him.

Messy Mary -- FPC sermon excerpt

What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

This question comes from Mary Oliver’s poem “The Summer Day.” It is a great one to ask and answer on this particular summer day, as we think about the visit of Jesus to the house of Martha and Mary.

It’s a question we can ask the two women in this story.

What is it that you plan to do, Martha?

Martha might say, “Oh, straighten up the house, welcome Jesus, prepare a meal for him. This is my duty, after all. Anything else would bring shame on my family.”

And what is it that you plan to do, Mary?

“Sit at the Lord’s feet,” she says. “Listen to what he is teaching. I have just one ‘wild and precious life,’ so I’m going to use it to soak up the word of the Lord.”

So, Martha’s a worker.

And Mary’s a shirker.

The duty of a first-century Jewish woman is to help with household chores, and Mary knows this. By sitting at the feet of Jesus, she is acting like a man ... taking the place of a disciple! She is violating a crystal-clear social boundary, and bringing shame upon her house!

“Wild and precious life.” Oh, come on. Be serious, Mary.

We know how the story ends, with Martha asking Jesus to put Mary in her place. “Tell her to help me,” says Martha, assuming that Jesus will want their house to be in order. But Jesus answers her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:40-42).

The surprising final score is Mary 1, Martha 0.

Now, as enlightened 21st-century Christians, we might want to give Mary a thumbs-up for her come-from-behind victory, but the fact of the matter is that we tend to honor Martha in our day-to-day lives. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but we do. We Americans have a deep desire to be neat and tidy and organized, and we feel badly that our desks are overflowing with papers, our closets crammed full of clothes, and our garages and basements packed with tools, toys, sports equipment, and boxes of who-knows-what.

According to The New York Times (December 21, 2006), sales of home-organizing products keep going up and up, from $5 billion in 2005 to a projected $7 billion in 2009. That’s a lot of accordion files and label-makers and plastic tubs. The industry that makes closet organizing systems pulls in $3 billion a year, according to Closets magazine.

Can you believe that there actually exists a magazine called Closets? That says it all. 854 million people around the world are hungry, and we spend money on a magazine called Closets. This supports the fact that we have a fear of being Messy Marys. We really want to be Methodical Marthas … people with perfectly organized closets.

I understand the desire, but I think there’s a problem here. God wants us to take seriously the value of our “one wild and precious life.” We must pay attention to Jesus when he honors Mary for listening instead of laboring. And we need to accept the fact that a perfectly organized life is not all that it’s cracked up to be.

Keeping Afloat -- FPC sermon excerpt

It’s been a big summer for Noah and the ark, with the movie Evan Almighty hitting the theaters. I haven’t had a chance to see it, but I understand there are some riddles that could have been in the movie, but ended up on the editing room floor.

Do you know what Noah said as he started loading the ark?
“Now I herd everything.”

Why did the people on the ark think the horses were pessimistic?
They kept saying neigh.

What animal could Noah never trust?
The cheetah.

What kind of lights did Noah have on the ark?
Flood lights.

Where did Noah keep the bees?
In the ark hives. Get it? The ark … hives.

And finally, why was Noah the greatest financial expert in the Bible?
He floated his stock while the whole world was in liquidation.

These riddles probably deserve to be on the editing room floor.

Our focus today is on promise and hope. Now this might seem to be a strange focus, given the fact that today’s Scripture lesson tells the story of the great flood. The “floodgates of the heavens were opened,” says the Book of Genesis. “And rain fell on the earth forty days and forty nights” (7:11-12). A flood like this is a terrifying thing — as Stephen Hunter wrote in his review of Evan Almighty, it is the first known “Weapon of Mass Destruction.” Many lives are lost when the waters rise up and sweep across the land.

Part of me would like to think of this story as a fable — a fictional story with a nice moral at the end. But almost every culture on Earth includes an ancient flood story, which suggests that some catastrophic event did, in fact, occur. The details of these stories vary, but the basic plot is the same: An enormous flood kills all but a lucky few.

Older than Genesis is the Babylonian epic of Gilgamesh. In this story, a king meets a survivor of a great flood sent by the gods. Warned by Enki, the water god, this man built a boat and saved his family and friends, along with animals and precious metals.

In Ancient Greece and Rome, the story was told of a couple who saved their children and a collection of animals by boarding a ship shaped like a giant box.

Irish legends talk about a queen and her court, sailing for seven years to avoid death when the ocean rises and swamps Ireland.

And here in America, European explorers were startled by Indian legends that were very similar to the story of Noah. According to explorer Robert Ballard, some Spanish priests feared the devil had planted these stories in the Indians’ minds, in an effort to confuse them.

These are frightening stories — tales of death and destruction, and the survival of a few. So where is the promise and the hope to be found?

After the waters dry up, God says to Noah and to his sons, “I establish my covenant with you, that never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth” (Genesis 9:8-11).

Let’s take a close look at these words: “I establish my covenant with you,” says God. A covenant is a promise-based relationship, an agreement that is designed to last forever. Humans enter into covenant relationships, such as “the covenant of marriage,” but since humans don’t always keep their promises, these relationships don’t always last. But with God, a covenant is going to last forever, because God always keeps his promises.

That’s good news, at the end of a terrifying story.