This post was originally posted on December 29, 2017, but I monkeyed around with my blog and lost all the posts!! So here is a re-post
Christmas is over. Whew! At our house Christmas is nuts. Not only are there five kids, but we have four birthdays and an anniversary to celebrate from December 19th through the end of the year. My daughter laughingly said she will be awarding cash incentives to any siblings who have children in a month OTHER than December. I will match her cash incentives.
In the spirit of the gift-giving bacchanalia that just occurred at my house, my inaugural post will be about the idea of a eucharist gift. I've been haunted by the idea all fall. In October, my husband and I had the privilege of attending an event put on by Peter Rollins in Belfast. (If you haven't read Pete, you should). At that event we became friends with a very special couple from London. He is a headhunter with a unique approach. He talks to people about their "theology" of work.
I am a regional manager in clinical research for big pharma. I laughingly say to people that I work for the devil, but maybe that's just not funny. Don't get me wrong, my job is a tremendous blessing. I work from home, I am paid well and I am good at what I do (or so says my manager). But it’s big pharma – and with any big corporation you feel acutely that it lacks a soul. This translates to me often feeling like I’d like to do something more meaningful; something that changes the world more.
So, when this friend asked me in Belfast what my theology of work is:
I came up empty.
I don't have one. I just do my job and get paid.
About a month ago, Rob Bell did a podcast on ambition and asked the same type of question about your “eucharist gift”. What is that thing you are doing here on this earth for which you will give your body broken and blood shed?
I came up empty.
I mean, I WILL give my body and blood for my children - no question. But beyond that, in any other arena, I just don’t have a theology of work. I just work. I do the best job I can and when the work day is over, I leave it. It is NOT my body broken and blood shed. It's just my job.
I can’t shake the question. I don’t have an answer yet. Maybe, if I don’t have a theology of work I DO work for the devil. I'm not talking about a literal devil here, but the aspect of life that is soulless and deceptive. The force in this world that is destructive and takes life rather than giving it. It’s easy to point a finger out THERE and say that big pharma, or big oil, or corporate America, or whatever machine we find ourselves a part of is the “devil” and lacks a soul. But maybe the bigger truth is that if we point in HERE – inside ourselves – and find that what we are doing; whether employment, or parenting, or marriage, or creativity – has no theology then it is without soul.
Maybe the key to not working for the devil lies within.
So I’m setting out to find the best gift of the season. My eucharist gift. My theology of work.
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