This is the second part of a talk I gave in chapel at Taylor University (IN) some years ago. I think it has held up well, as an intervention on the subject of vocation, for young people in particular.
I believe there are at least three idols today that get in the way of a higher understanding of ordinary work. Each of these idols has its own cult – that is, in the older sense of that word, its own way of being worshiped in our culture.
These are the cult of celebrity, the cult of the event, and the cult of the startup.
The three idols: Enemies of the ordinary
Cult of celebrity
First, there’s the cult of celebrity. This gets into our bloodstream like Horton says it does – as the pressure to “live up to our Facebook profile” (or choose your favorite social media platform). In this country, not only are we obsessed with celebrities on the larger screens of movies and TV: we are tempted also to grab celebrity for ourselves – however fleetingly or awkwardly, through our self-presentation on the smaller screens of computers, tablets, and phones. Every accomplishment, every promotion, every chance meeting with a famous person—even our romantic relationships, our children, our pets all become part of the image we project for ourselves. Nowhere is the temptation to strut and shine greater than in our work and vocations. We are captivated by the cult of celebrity.
Cult of the event
Second, there is the cult of the event. This one cuts close to us as evangelicals, because it has infected how we worship and even how we understand salvation itself. Thus it is very tempting to us as we consider our own vocations.
Think about all the stirring events that have become a standard part of our faith lives: both the public ones – the camps, the revivals, the arena ministries and Christian concerts; and the private ones – the transformative moment at the height of the religious meeting, the glorious conversion, the moment of decision that leads to service in the mission field.
After a while, we can start behaving as if God’s kingdom work on earth only happens through the crisis moment or the extraordinary event.
But is this true? Michael Horton reminds us that while the dominant evangelical images for god’s kingdom over the past century and a half have been images of fire – these are not, in fact, the dominant images in the NT. When we open scripture, we find over and over again the kingdom being described in images of seeds, cultivation, growth, farming, vineyards.
Of course, the growth and flourishing of plants does not happen quickly – it does not happen in the flash of a crisis moment. We do not plant and expect an instant return. And if we do—if we go impatiently to our little plot again and again, and dig up the seeds we’ve planted, then we’ll see no return. The parallel is a solid one: if we get caught up in the crisis event, we can forget the slow, lasting transformation of a life lived in obedience—with its steady, daily process of discipleship.
And the same thing happens to us in our understanding of vocation and work: certainly in our working lives there will be turning-point events, times of extraordinary effort, of despair, of discovery, exhileration, joy. But most of the chapters of our vocational lives are stories of patient, incremental learning, mastering, maturing, growth. Daniel Levitin argues that to achieve true mastery in a vocation takes 10,000 hours of work. We do not master our trades and crafts overnight. Our vocation or (more probably) multiple vocations will grow and mature, in Nietzsche’s phrase, out of a long obedience in the same direction. So if we are worshiping in the cult of the crisis event – expecting sudden changes and a meteoric rise to fame and fortune, we will find ourselves disappointed by the realities of working life.
Cult of the startup
The third cult that twists our view of work is the cult of the startup.
Among the most lionized celebrities today are those who have started disruptive new businesses, often built on new technology: The Steve Jobs’s and Mark Zuckerbergs. I say this as a regular reader of Entrepreneur magazine: There is something irresistibly compelling about the heroic narrative of the startup, when told as the story of a single “Great Man” or “Great Woman.” The startup story is a tale of brilliance and adventure, in which young wizards change the world overnight through the sheer power of new ideas.
How pervasive is this cult? The Kauffman Foundation—no surprise here—tells us that 54% of young people today are dreaming about starting or joining a startup, and that many of these have in fact acted on the dream.
I want you to hear me on this: of course creativity and innovation can be very great goods, in any industry or sphere of life. It is truly marvelous to watch one industry after another reinvent itself through disruptive technology and methods. And there are those of you who will become engaged in innovation in your fields – though probably only after years of experience and learning in those industries. That’s a good thing. The bad thing, however, is that the startup narrative doesn’t give the whole story: Nowhere to be seen are the thousands of faithful, role-playing workers, working in large, stable organizational structures, contributing all the decidedly unheroic, but certainly vital labor that allows these wondrous startups to serve so many in such world-changing ways. The cult of the startup is no friend of ordinary work. And the visions of vocation that it feeds are in important ways misshapen visions.
To be continued . . .