The following is an introductoryletter for our annual report I wrote to our supporters at DIFW. If you’d like a physical copy of the report, visit this page.
Dear Friends,
Annual reports have a way of being sent, paged through, and put in the recycle bin rather quickly. We know this because we’ve done it so many times, too.
This is why Denver Institute for Faith & Work created a unique annual report this year that doubles as a personal reflection guide for your own walk with Christ in 2020.
After a painful, jarring year, we at DIFW reflected on all the changes in our own lives and work. Our reflections centered around four seasons:
Celebration: We launched 2020 with our largest event ever.
Lament: In March 2020, the world abruptly changed with the arrival of COVID-19, deepening personal, professional, and social tensions.
Redirection: Our work abruptly needed to change to adjust to a new reality.
Gratitude: As we ended 2020, we were left with a deep and unexpected sense of gratitude.
We structured each section of this annual report as narrative reflections on our own work at DIFW, and intentionally left space for you to journal, reflect, and pray through your own story in 2020.
This annual report is meant to be an invitation to pause and invite the Lord into your memories, allowing him to heal wounds and grow his life within. I hope you’ll put this year’s annual report next to your bed and spend some time reflecting on the presence of the Spirit in pain, the goodness of God in seasons of change, and hope of the resurrection of Christ for the year to come.
I want to thank you again for your generous giving to the formation of men and women to serve God, neighbor, and society through their work. Your prayers, financial support, and participation in our mission continue to make an impact.
Grateful,
Jeff Haanen
Founder & CEO P.S. You can make a deeper impact by becoming a monthly donor. Visit denverinstitute.org/give to give today. Thank you for your continued support.
I recently went on just a short vacation, and the email responder I set up got a bit of attention (mostly positive, some surprised). I post it here in case you need one…that actually allows you to rest.
My Last Vacation Email Reponder
Well, you got this auto-email because I’m on vacation. Actually, not just vacation – I’m trying to actually practice sabbath rest, even for a single week.
In a digital age of being constantly connected – and being a person with constant ideas and a never-ending drive to be productive – I find this difficult. So for the next week of my life, this means three things:
I will spend individual time with my four daughters, bake banana bread, take my wife on a date, work on a coffee table, read books, garden, exercise (and walk slowly past the blooming crabapple trees) and try to practice just 15 minutes of silence per day.
I will be shutting off my laptop completely, and temporarily deleting the email app from my phone, because I constantly check it, and find it difficult not to.
I will also never see the email you just sent me. The hard thing about time off for digital workers is that it all stacks up on us until we return, causing a low-level dread even on vacation. The solution: I will delete (and never see) all emails sent to me from Saturday May 8 through Friday at noon, May 14.
Now, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you or value your time. I do! And I want to hear from you. However, I’d ask you to reach out to me in a week.
Thanks for your grace. It’s a delight working alongside you.
For now, I rest.
Template You Can Fill In
Well, you got this auto-email because I’m on vacation. Actually, not just vacation – I’m trying to actually practice sabbath rest, even for a single week.
In a digital age of being constantly connected – and being a person with (reasons why you find it difficult to disconnect and rest) – I find this difficult. So for the next week of my life, this means three things:
I will spend individual time with my (insert family members), (insert activities you will actually do to slow down, disconnect, and rest) and try to practice just 15 minutes of silence per day.
I will be shutting off my laptop completely, and temporarily deleting the email app from my phone, because I constantly check it, and find it difficult not to.
I will also never see the email you just sent me. The hard thing about time off for digital workers is that it all stacks up on us until we return, causing a low-level dread even on vacation. The solution: I will delete (and never see) all emails sent to me from (Insert beginning day, date) through (Insert ending day, date).
Now, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you or value your time. I do! And I want to hear from you. However, I’d kindly ask you to reach out to me in (insert duration of your vacation).
Thanks for your grace. It’s a delight working alongside you.
We had lost our footing until Stephen Raifsnider showed up. Actually, I ripped it up.
First the toilet clogged in our main floor bathroom — repeatedly. (How is that possible from such little girls?) So, I bought a new toilet from Home Depot, the kind you can flush seven pool balls down and still be good to go.
As I unscrewed the toilet flange bolts which held my throne to the floor, I gently lifted the potty…only to have the cracked tile come with it. After looking at the shower (which didn’t work due to a broker diverter valve) and looking back at the cracked tile floor, I took the deep dive into what all homeowners must eventually face: the bathroom remodel.
After demolishing the bathroom (removing the cheap, builders-grade vanity and tossing it in the trash was surprisingly satisfying) and replacing the subflooring, we needed somebody to tile our bathroom. So, I called no less than five flooring companies. Finally, we got one on the calendar. Two days before the scheduled appointment, he sent a text. “I’m not feeling well. I don’t think I should come in today.” So, we called another. And (not joking), the next guy said the same thing. “Hey, I have a fever.” In COVID world — and in a world desperately short of skilled tradesmen — our bathroom remodel stopped completely.
And then I met Stephen.
Stephen is the 65-year-old owner of StoneFactor, a stone and tile contractor based in Denver. When I reached out, he responded to an email. His quote was fair. His work was highly reviewed. And he showed up when he said he would.
The day Stephen arrived with his assistant Juan to tile our bathroom floor, we struck up a conversation as he was setting up his tile saw on my front deck.
He had been a firefighter for 16 years before getting into the tile business. His business had grown, yet he now confessed he was getting “too old” to do it every day of the week. He also told me he attends a large church on the south side of the Denver area.
As he peered at our wall hanging that read “Every Moment I Need Thee,” he asked about my work, gathering that we likely shared a common faith. After telling him about my job, he confessed that he wasdeeply troubled by one thing he had heard at church.
“You know, Jesus says that ‘the servants are the greatest,’” he cautiously said, recalling a passage from the Gospels. “But what have I ever done for God? I mean, I’m not a pastor or a missionary.” He looked at me with an honest question, “Does this mean I won’t have a reward in heaven?”
Why Work?
Why is focusing on the theme of work so important for the Christian church? I can think of at least three reasons.
First, time. We’ll spend one-third of our adult lives at work; some estimate over 90,000 hours. The reality is, we spend a tremendous amount of our lives working — from laying tile to sending email to attending meetings to tightening nuts and bolts. Life isn’t just work, but it certainly is a big chunk of it.
If we don’t spend time thoroughly understanding why, how, and to what end we work, we end up divorcing our daily lives from our faith. This is rarely done intentionally. But the omission of the real context for our lives in communities of faith leads to living in two different worlds — church and work, values and facts, private and public.
This lack of coherence leads to everything from the bewildering ethics violations in large public corporations by those who regularly teach Sunday school to the fiction that there is a “neutral” space in society where faith is optional. The truth is, we all worship something. And so do our companies, schools, clinics, and governments. Faith or some set of ultimate beliefs is indeed basic to all of human life and all institutions.
Not to bring Christian faith to work means we unwittingly worship at the altar of some other god from 9 to 5.
Second, influence. The total GDP of the American economy in 2019 was $21.43 trillion. That’s not just a lot of money, it’s an immense array of products and services, bought and sold each year. It’s also one measurement of the enormous influence of everyday workers.
Work is where we shape one small corner of the world. For my mom, wife, and sister, it’s been public education. For my dad, it was print advertising. For my father-in-law, it was engineering everything from roads to sewer systems. For my grandpa, it was in a wood shop. For my kids, it’s in the classroom. Work is where we form human civilization, in all its specificity and beauty.
What we see in so many ministries, churches and theological communities today is a tacit assumption that “ministry” is only for those who are paid by Christian nonprofit organizations. The Bible knows nothing of this. Though there is an important call to be a leader in a local church (1 Timothy 3:1), it also affirms that work of all kinds should be seen as “ministry” or “service” (Ephesians 4:12), whether that be driving kids to theater practice, grooming dogs, or selling earbuds at an Apple store. Work is one arena of our spiritual act of worship (Romans 12:1-2).
The question for Christians when they leave church on Sunday is whether they stay activated during the week. (This illustration of red dots by Neil Hudson at the London Institute for Contemporary Christianity is one of my favorite pictures of the gravity of this truth.) The challenge is to bring the life of the resurrection from the worship, preaching, baptism and Eucharist of church into the lesson plans, client calls, or job sites of our daily life.
Finally, pain. The truth is, work is a source of pain for nearly all of us: Christians, Muslims, Hindus, secularists, and everything in between. Projects don’t turn out as we hope. We’re humiliated by a boss or superior. Our career trajectory tanks rather than takes off. We struggle to afford the increasing costs of education, health care, or housing.
One Gallup poll showed only 15% of the global workforce is engaged in their work, and nearly all of us are still longing for that holy grail of a job where “my deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”
The secular story of work is one of success, a neat life of “up-and-to-the-right” stories, whether rags to riches or simply college to a well-paying job. Though Christians have their own prosperity gospel, the secular prosperity gospel of individual success and living my “personal destiny” is even more pervasive.
The truth is, each of us suffers. Work is where we sense the “thorns and thistles” of a broken creation that groans for redemption (Romans 8:19). It’s also often the place we’re happy to flee at 5pm on Friday (or 3pm if you live in Denver).
Only the cross can truly make sense of the suffering we experience in our work and daily lives. Only Jesus can truly understand the poor Latino laborer, for he too was a laborer. Only Jesus can truly walk alongside the dejected banker when he’s been fired, because he too endured the utter isolation of Calvary. Only Jesus can answer the deepest longings for purpose in work, because he was there when work was created and he’ll be there when work finds its final culmination in the heavenly city (Revelation 21-22).
So why faith & work? Work is far too pervasive, expansive, and painful for the global Church to ignore.
Laying Tile
When Stephen asked me this question about rewards in heaven, I was somewhat dumbfounded. He had gotten the impression from his church that the only truly valuable work was in paid occupational ministry.
But here he was, on his hands and knees, laying tile, while I watched. Here he was humbly asking a question and eager to learn. Here he was laying tile and reflecting the work of him who “came not to be served, but to serve” (Matthew 20:28). Here he was doing a task for me I could not do on my own, with a gentle kindness I would not soon forget.
What’s the value of “faith and work” for Stephen Raifsnider? Perhaps it’s simply the knowledge that with each tile laid, the value of his work is much more than a contract.
“Well done, good and faithful servant,” is the final reward for Stephen and all those who offer their work to God in love.
This is the second article of a three-part series on “Why Faith & Work?” The previous article focused on the gospel and why it matters for our work. The next article will talk about work and its importance to culture.
It was 2016. I was two years into launching Denver Institute. One day I woke up and realized a painful truth. I have no idea what I’m doing.
So, I got on the phone and started calling friends and peers around the US. Geoff Hsu at Flourish San Diego; Lisa Slayton, then at Pittsburgh Leadership Foundation; David Kim at the Center for Faith & Work. I invited about 15 leaders from Atlanta to Toronto for three days in Breckenridge to eat, share, discuss, and learn from each other. I gave a simple name to that first gathering: CityGate.
At about the same time, we were launching our first class of 5280 Fellows. To be honest, as Jill (Hamilton) Anschutz was designing the website and Brian was designing the curriculum, we had no idea if this would fly either. But behold, at our first retreat we met 27 bright, faithful, engaged emerging leaders working in law, architecture, social entrepreneurships, psychiatry, engineering, and more.
Each of these two communities was a gift of grace. And now, five years later, they come together.
Today we announce a new initiative at Denver Institute for Faith & Work.CityGate is a national community of leaders in churches, businesses, and nonprofits committed to learning, investing in relationships, and encouraging human flourishing as we bring the gospel to the city gate of our respective communities. It is also our initiative for recruiting, equipping, and supporting leaders who want to launch a fellowship program in and for their city.
Why would we do this? I’m glad you asked. Below are some of the top questions we’ve received from donors, friends, Fellows, and peers.
Why name it CityGate?
In the ancient world, the city gate was the center of city life. It was the place of commerce, public assemblies, judicial activities, sacred ceremonies, and cultural life. Today, in a secular age, faith is often divorced from the core activities — business, government, justice, education, health care, arts — that make up a city.
We chose the name CityGate as an expression of our value of bringing the gospel into our work, our shared public life, and our culture.
Why did you start CityGate?
For years we’ve had inquiries from leaders who wanted to run our Fellows program in their own city. We’ve been building out training programs, curriculum, and administrative infrastructure that would position a leader to effectively launch and operate their own program. We started by testing out the idea in one city. The talented David Bell, leading the Circle City Fellows in Indianapolis, has built a strong program over the last two years. So, with what we’ve learned, we’re ready to take the next step in coming alongside leaders in other cities as well.
Yet we’ve seen that many cities are not quite ready to launch such a comprehensive program and instead have questions that range from how to build a faith and work organization to what emotionally healthy leadership looks like. So, we decided to reignite the early CityGate community of leaders and invite in more leaders into the conversation for monthly “learning labs,” a place where we hear from leaders about best practices in leadership, formation, all-of-life discipleship, and its application across sectors.
But really, why did you start CityGate? Thanks for asking. Because we believe in a culture as broken as this, the gospel of Jesus Christ is the first and last answer — for our hearts, our relationships, and our shared civic life.
What will CityGate do?
In 2021, we’re launching two programs: monthly learning labs and CityGate Fellowships. The learning labs are open to the public and will feature speakers, tools that we use in the fellowship, and the chance to learn from peer leaders in their contexts.
Also, in 2021 we’ll accept applications for CityGate Fellowships, a program designed specifically for leaders who want to launch their own fellowship program. The training offers not only comprehensive content, systems, and training for your Fellows, it also provides comprehensive training for the leaders from marketing a program to alumni retention Our first training for accepted leaders is September 2021.
Later in 2021, we’re exploring ways more deeply to serve our monthly donors and generous supporters with curated content, leadership tools, and workshops that strengthen the “gospel-ecosystem” across the US. We’re also exploring ways to partner with and strengthen churches, businesses, and peer nonprofits into 2022 and beyond.
Why should I join?
Well, I’m glad you asked!
There is a growing, organic community of people who hunger for leading, working, and creating out of a holistic and coherent life deeply rooted in the gospel. Many have been in this space for years. Others are seeking wisdom, support and guidance for their own calling and leadership.
We invite you to learn, participate, and join CityGate as a community of peers committed to helping you build, grow, and strengthen your leadership as you take the gospel to your own city gate. All can join the free, monthly learning labs. We also invite you to consider either launching a fellowship program or joining the generous community at the heart of CityGate sharing ideas, prayers, tools, insights, and networks.
We need to collaborate. We need to learn from each other. And we need to strengthen not just ourselves, but the whole ecosystem if we’re going to start healing our communities with the transformative power of the gospel.
Five years after our first conversation in Breckenridge, I do have a bit more knowledge about leading at the intersection of faith, work, justice and culture. But I’m still learning…and I look forward to learning alongside you.
Want to learn more about CityGate? Visit citygate.com and register for the next learning lab.
When I think of Easter, I think of the pink crabapple trees blossoming in early April along the north side of Caley Avenue in my home town of Littleton.
I think of Easter egg hunts on budding green church lawns packed with girls in pastel dresses and boys in clip-on ties, carrying baskets filled with eggs, chocolate, and plastic green grass (that ends up on my carpet). I think of Easter brunch: fruit, egg bakes, and mimosas. And I think of leisurely walks through garden centers, smelling fresh soil, fresh seeds and new beginnings.
Yet for me at least, the metaphor of Easter as a mere symbol is falling short. This year was simply filled with too much pain.
This last year, I remember looking into a hazy, yellow sky and feeling the ash fall on my face from raging Colorado wildfires. I remember a friend of mine telling me about the piercing anxiety he felt as he watched from his balcony the dumpster fires move closer to home after the George Floyd protests. I remember walking along Civic Center Park and running my fingers along the splintered plywood now covering the windows of the old Denver Post building on 101 West Colfax. I remember the ghostly feeling of walking through an empty 16th Street Mall on a sunny April afternoon. I remember the tears my daughters cried when I told them their summer swim team, the Franklin Fish, had been canceled.
And this week, I remember the 10 lives lost in the Boulder King Soopers shooting, opening yet again the 20-year-old wound of Columbine that casts a shadow over our “best-state-to-live-in” reputation.
Springtime sentimentality is no match for the harsh finality of death.
And yet, Easter is not a metaphor.
American poet and novelist John Updike once wrote:
Make no mistake: if He rose at all
It was as His body;
If the cells dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
Reknit, the amino acids rekindle
The Church will fall.
In other words, the Christian church and faith rests on a single, historical event: the resurrection of Jesus’ physical body.
Updike writes, “Let us not mock God with metaphor, analogy, sidestepping transcendence,” alluding to the categorization of Christian faith as myth. The resurrection was not like a spring garden nor a parable of well wishes. Christians assert, “the same valved heart / that – pierced – died, withered, paused, and then / regathered out of enduring Might.”
The early apostles struggled to believe in an actual, physical resurrection. Thomas famously said, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my fingers where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” John the apostle reports Jesus’ reply: “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.”
The New Testament authors were making a clear claim: Jesus was no ghost. He could be touched. He ate food with his disciples. He had a body. Here was no ancient mythology of life, death and rebirth. Death itself was being unraveled by the Author of Life.
Denver can feel like a polarized place, like the rest of our country. Yet on Easter morning, men and women across the city declare a single truth with a rare unity.
From the Episcopalians at Saint John’s Cathedral to the evangelicals of Fellowship Denver Church; from the multicultural worshippers at Colorado Community Church to the Pentecostals at Potter’s House; from the Anglicans at Wellspring Church in Englewood to the Wesleyans at Trinity Methodist tucked between skyscrapers at 18th and Broadway; from the professionals at Cherry Creek Presbyterian in the Tech Center to the homeless at Denver Rescue Mission to the online worshippers quarantined in their homes from Northglenn to Castle Pines — for one morning, each echo the words of an angel, “Do not be afraid, for I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see.”
So what? What does the resurrection mean for a city still aching with emptiness, loss, and pain?
I believe it means three things. First, it means death is not the end. Second, it means that Christ has come not just to give meaning to life after death, but to bring his life to this world. His bodily resurrection is the beginning point of a new way to be human.And third, it means that the hard work ahead of reopening restaurants, helping students catch up, and rebuilding our economy is indeed work worth doing, because God seems to think this world is worth saving (John 3:16).
Easter may not be a metaphor, but it is a new beginning. It reminds us that today is a time to plant, to hope, and to begin new projects that can bloom, like a budding crabapple blossom lining the streets of a waiting city.
Jeff Haanen is the founder of Denver Institute for Faith & Work and the 5280 Fellowship, a nine-month experience in spiritual formation, professional development, and civic engagement for emerging leaders in Denver. This op-ed first appeared in the Denver Gazette.
“How do you measure your results?” It’s usually not the first question I receive from a donor interested in our work, but it is the second or third. And it’s not always easy to answer.
Measuring impact in the nonprofit sector can be tricky business. In the business world, it’s much more straightforward: profitability is still the standard-bearer for an “effective business.” But in the nonprofit sector, especially educational organizations like Denver Institute, our goal is to shape human lives. How would we know if we were effective at a program like, say, the 5280 Fellowship?
The Process
In early 2020, we recruited two outside researchers — Stephen Assink (MAR) and Andrew Lynn (PhD), both from the University of Virginia — to help us with that question. As trained social scientists with experience doing research for the Institute for Advanced Studies in Culture and the Thriving Cities Group, Stephen and Andrew brought both objectivity and expertise to our question. So, how did we tackle this question of impact?
First, we clarified our outcomes, which are all built around our five guiding principles. What do we mean by “effectiveness”? We mean people who think theologically about their work, embrace redemptive relationships, create good work, seek deep spiritual health, and serve others sacrificially in their communities and city.
Second, we gave them an overview of the 5280 Fellowship program, and the elements we’ve built into the program to bring about real formation. City leader meetings, cohort discussions, mentoring triads, retreats, Saturday sessions, personal formation projects, professional impact projects — each element is carefully chosen to fuel change around our five guiding principles.
From there, Stephen and Andrew conducted both qualitative (interview) surveys and quantitative (online, multiple choice) surveys of pre-program participants (Year 5), and alumni — both recent graduates (Year 4) and our initial cohort (Year 1).
Between 65 participants and 4,000 unique data points, what did they find?
Measurable Results
Today we’re publishing 5280 Fellowship Assessment results, which is the first step in a multi-year study measuring the impact of the 5280 Fellowship.
Here’s a sample of what we learned:
Outcome
Indicator
Before
After
Vocational Mission
I view my work as a mission from God.
50%
88%
Redemptive Work
I know how my work makes my city or culture better.
71%
100%
Spiritual Growth
I do weekly spiritual disciplines beyond Bible study or prayer.
36%
71%
Work Relationships
My spiritual disciplines improve my work habits.
78%
95%
Civic Engagement
I’m active in a nonprofit or civic organization.
29%
50%
In the study, we measured the Fellows’ change in five areas: theology, relationships, views about their work, professional leadership, and civic engagement.
We found strong growth particularly in three areas: theological thinking about their work and our culture, new and lasting relationships between Fellows and leaders in our city, and adopting spiritual practices that lead to internal wholeness and health.
One CEO said about the program, “I can’t stress enough how I’ve seen people’s mentality change as a result of the program.” A seminary lecturer commented about the program, “I think the biggest change for [the Fellows] is a shift from … an instrumental versus intrinsic value of work.” They now ask, “Does my work actually contribute toward the mission of God to reconcile all things to himself?”
Assink and Lynn also measured the 5280 Fellows in comparison with a control group of their evangelical peers across the US and found a marked difference in values and practices, especially with respect to weekly church attendance (49% national average compared to 76% for Fellows), participating in monthly in Bible study or prayer group (28% nationally, 80% Fellows), and pursuing excellence in their work because of their faith (78% nationally, 89% Fellows).
What It Means
Here’s what the report means for us and those we serve:
Leading a Commitment to Measurable Change. Our goal is to lead the way in for similar programs across the nation to both measure their impact and to commit to the rigor of testing their hypotheses. Looking to larger studies like D. Michael Lindsay’s study on the White House Fellowship, we believe that early-career fellowship programs can and should be measured — and are critical in an emerging leader’s life. DIFW is a standard-bearer here for other faith-motivated and secular programs.
We Can Still Improve. The value of outside researchers is that they’re not there just to tell you how great you are. They found areas where we see less growth in our Fellows to date: growth in professional leadership and commitment to civic engagement and community involvement. As we plan and prepare to train leaders in other cities to launch their programs through CityGate, we are seeking to invest in improved processes, curriculum, and training that helps our Fellows truly live “from the inside out” and make a measurable impact on their workplaces, industries, and cities. We also need to do more study over time to see stronger correlations between the program and Fellows’ lives, careers, and civic impact.
It Works. The 5280 Fellowship — and the forthcoming CityGate Fellowships — really are effective. The educational model is a unique blend of spiritual formation, professional development, theological learning, network-building, leadership growth, and community engagement. Research has found that one’s twenties are an even more important time for career and leadership formation than college or even childhood. The 5280 Fellowship is blazing new ground in shaping men and women to love God, serve their neighbors, and demonstrate the gospel to an unbelieving world.
For more information about becoming a Fellow, visit 5280Fellows.com. For information about how to financially support either the 5280 Fellowship or the CityGate initiative, please email [email protected].
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble,” writes the author of Psalm 46. “Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth gives way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging…. Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall; he lifts his voice, the earth melts…. The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”
The changes to the world of work since the pandemic began feel like this psalm: waters roar, mountains quake, nations are in uproar, and my daily work rhythms just got blown up.
Yet in this cultural context of change, Christians bring a unique perspective: the unchanging reality of God. If you’re a secular person, focused just on the individual and your ability to control your own destiny, the storyline is actually chaos. Each day is a grasping attempt to bring security and stability in a world being tossed by the fierce winds of an economic, social, and cultural storm.
In contrast, the Christian can breathe. “The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”
She believes Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). God is a rock and a fortress, an anchor that allows for stability, resolve, and peace even amidst turmoil (Psalm 18:2, Hebrews 6:19). It’s this foundation that both brings down the decibel level around current debates and allows people of faith to be reformers as citizens of another kingdom.
Following up on my first article, here I will suggest three macro changes to our world as a result of the pandemic, as well as how Christians might understand those changes and what practices we might consider in light of those truths.
Systemic Change #1: The tech sector will continue its pervasive growth into the economy.
Eventually we will go back to in-person gatherings and offices, but digital connectivity is speeding up. The world’s most powerful companies (Apple, Amazon, Microsoft, Facebook, and Google) are all in the tech sector and during the pandemic, each saw record stock prices. Zoom (and dozens of other video chat services) are here to stay.
Former Fed Chair Jerome Powell said that the pandemic accelerated technology trends that were already there, and many workers (especially women) lost competitive ground on their peers in 2020.
Theological Frame: Vocation. How should we think about the pervasiveness of digital technology in our lives? Vocation isn’t first about job choice or “meaningful” work. Vocation calls us first to love God, and then our neighbor. It is a summons to offer ourselves completely to God in all areas of life, including our hearts, our family lives, and our work.
I believe vocation also puts a certain priority onproximity and place. When God speaks, He wakes us up from being connected to everyone and everywhere, and reconnects us to our real, daily lives. “I have a spouse and children. I have neighbors. I have family. I have co-workers.” Vocation pushes back on the “everything, anywhere, right now” culture of tech.
There are positives and negatives to the tech sector and its growing influence on our work. But vocation reminds us first to be present to God and to our actual, embodied lives.
Practice: “Identity, Context, Practice.” Here’s a simple practice you might consider to interrupt the domination of screens over your working life. Close your laptop, find a notebook, and write down answers to three questions:
Who am I? (Identity)
Where am I? (Context)
Based on my answers to these two questions, how should I respond? (Practices)
Putting limits on tech resituates us back into our real, embodied lives, and can reattune the heart to hear the voice of God.
Systemic Change #2: Everything is politicized and workplace culture is anxious.
We’ve been on this train for a while, but the pandemic accelerated this trend. We also feel it at work. CEOs make statements on nearly every new social issue. We find it difficult to have a conversation with coworkers about issues we disagree on. People come to work on pins and needles, caught in an anxious cycle of news, performance, loneliness, and more news.
Theological Frame: Reconciliation. In such a tense environment, God calls his people to a message of reconciliation, as if “God were making his appeal through us,” (2 Corinthians 5:20). The New Testament idea of reconciliation conjures images of making peace between two warring parties — an image we’re not unfamiliar with in a culture of deep divisions that find their way into homes, churches, hospitals, schools, and workplaces.
Practice: Spheres of Influence. How do we really become people of reconciliation in a hyper-politicized environment? How can we model gentleness, conviction, and real love for others as we seek to live out our faith amongst our coworkers and our areas of influence?
Part of the answer is to think through what we can control, what we can influence, and what we cannot control.
The temptation is to think that the news and the thick anxiety of our culture is something that we can and must change right now. But the constant influx of media fools us and fuels the workplace and personal anxiety that acts like an acid, burning through our most precious relationships and most important tasks.
With what we can control (attitudes, motivations, behaviors, use of our time), let’s offer them in worship, surrendering to God and living life “with God” at work. With what we can influence (other people), let’s witness, demonstrating the reconciling love of God to others through our work and with our words. And finally — this is important — what we can’t control, we release. Don’t hang on to the news and global events, believing you can control more than you can. Pray and release those things to God and ask him to do the cosmic work of reconciliation that only he can do (2 Corinthians 5:19).
Systemic Change #3: Social and economic disparities are vast — and growing.
You’ve probably heard the term a K-shaped recovery. It comes from looking at a graph: as we recover from the pandemic, those connected to education, technology, and financial capital will come out ahead. Those with less education, less connection to tech, and in a lower income bracket are bearing the brunt of the negative impact of the pandemic.
The pandemic didn’t cause these macro trends, but again, it is accelerating trends that sociologists like Robert Putnam at Harvard University have seen growing since the mid-1960s. Inequality is now as vast as the Gilded Age (the late 1800s).
Theological Frame: Shalom. Shalom is a word that encompasses ideas of both peace and justice. It is about right relationship with God, with ourselves, and with others in our community. Shalom is about wholeness spreading from peace with God to restoration in our cities. The prophet Jeremiah insists that there can be no shalom until there is an end to oppression, greed, and violence in our social relationships (Jeremiah 6:1-9; 8:11). In an age of vast disparities, which the pandemic has made worse, the call of God is to “establish justice in the gate” (Amos 5:15).
Practice: Creation and Compassion.If you’re one of the lower- to middle-income workers, let me say this to you: God is with you. Feel his hope and his power. He has called you to himself and sent you to serve him with the talents he’s entrusted to you (1 Peter 4:10). You may be serving him in a job you don’t like, or you may be struggling to find a job. Either way, God is with you. Your secular counterpoints may cheer you on, too — but it’s just cheerleading. As a Christian, you actually have the Triune God at your side. He is with you and calling you to create (Genesis 2:15).
If you’re a higher-income worker who hasn’t been very affected by the pandemic, now’s the time to get in the game. You’re called to love and serve those with less power than you. There are so many opportunities to get involved: through your church, by offering opportunity to an entry-level employee, by getting involved with charities serving low-income communities. God is calling you to compassion (1 John 3:17).
The world of work has changed. Yet Christians have a unique foundation and calling to rest in God’s character, listen to his voice, seek reconciliation, and work for justice through our work.
“The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our Fortress.”
It was the second week of the pandemic. Late March 2020. I was driving back home from the office, trying to figure out what this would mean for Denver Institute, and for my own work. As I headed south on Santa Fe, just across from Aspen Grove mall, I stopped at a stoplight. I could feel my scalp tingling, at the base of my neck. At that moment, I realized I was holding my breath. I put my hand over my chest. My heart was racing.
I could feel in my body the tension and anxiety of a changing world.
The news cycle often drives this constant stream of anxiety, but rarely do we have a chance to really step back and take a look at the big picture and calmly evaluate our role in that big picture.
First, in this article, I’d like to give a wide-angle lens to how the pandemic has shifted our work on a macro scale in three main ways. Second, in a subsequent article, I’d like to narrow in on three systemic trends that I believe are here to stay, and ask both how we might understand them in light of our faith and what practices we might consider in response.
A Wide-Angle Lens to the Changing World of Work
The first major change is dislocation. That is, nearly all of us have experienced some kind of uprootedness in our work. The most obvious is physical dislocation. Millions of offices emptied. Hotels, restaurants, children’s activities — literally, billions were ordered to go home. The places we worked shifted drastically. We lost a sense of place as those who could work in front of screens went home, and others had to find rides to work and mask up.
Also, millions actually moved homes. Pew reports about one in five Americans either moved due to the pandemic, or know somebody who did. We experienced new neighborhoods, but not necessarily new relationships. Our work and weekly rhythms were immediately interrupted.
We also were socially dislocated. By this I mean the obvious things: how do you now greet a co-worker? Fist bump? Elbow? Handshake? Or no touching at all? If you’re wearing a mask, should you still smile and say hello to somebody you walk past on the street? Does it matter if you smile? Is it possible to socially distance and remain relationally close?
How we interact with people at work and in our communities changed drastically in the course of just weeks, causing stress and uncertainty in a bobbing sea of unknowns.
The screens of the tech sector kept many industries going. And for that we can be thankful.
Yet the CDC reported that two in five Americans have faced real mental health challenges since the pandemic. Now millions are uprooted and placeless, grasping for norms even as we feel far from home.
The second change is major job loss and job change. Since February, the US has lost 9.8 million jobs. Before the pandemic, average unemployment claims were around 350,000 per week. At the outset of the pandemic, jobless claims spiked to 3.3M and 6.8M in less than 30 days. Even as late as mid-January 2021, 847,000 people still claimed unemployment in a single week, high above normal levels.
Some estimate over 30 million people lost their jobs (I’ve seen articles claiming anywhere from 22-40 million). Many of those people had to quickly find new work, change industries, or simply wait it out until businesses could re-open. Others never did find new work and dropped out of the workforce altogether. Low-income and minority workers in industries like retail and restaurants have been hit hard in particular.
About 100,000 businesses had to shut down due the pandemic, and 60% of them are estimated to stay closed. Just the other day, I headed to one of my favorite pubs here in Denver with my friends for a reading group, which I hadn’t visited since the pandemic. There was simply a sign that read: closed until further notice, March 2020. It was a stark reminder of an estimated 60,000 businesses that have gone under, and with them, the jobs they provide.
Losing a job can crush the spirit and cause deep pain and questioning. (Actually, Denver Institute just did an honest, emotional podcast on losing your job.) But if you either lost a job or had to change jobs, you’re in good company with millions around the US.
Third, entire industries were transformed. On a macro scale, just think of what we saw this last year.
K-12 Education rapidly had to shift to an online format. Parents had to scramble to work and get their kids online as the world sent 1.5 billion kids home in April 2020. Teachers struggled to connect online with distracted kids and adjust to new rules and teaching norms on an almost daily basis.
The Film & Entertainment Industry had to stop releasing movies to theatres and instead went straight to streaming with its blockbuster releases, impacting movie theaters in almost every city in the US.
As the Mental Health Industry saw a spike in cases across the US, hospitals had to make rapid changes to prepare for COVID patients, often delaying important medical attention to those who still needed it.
In Government and Public Life, we saw a deeper erosion of social trust. NY Times columnist David Brooks made the convincing case in an essay for The Atlantic that eroding social trust is devastating America, accelerating the politics of resentment. COVID regulations caused even further anger in many communities, especially rural communities, bewildered by big city regulations on sparsely populated cities and communities.
The Hospitality Industry was deeply changed. Hotels still remain largely empty and restaurants either had to adapt (will we ever forget the sudden rise of ice-fishing tents outside of restaurants?) or die.
Retail changes accelerated as people stopped shopping in malls and further expanded the reach of online retail giants.
Early in the pandemic we saw huge shock waves in the Oil and Gas Industry, with the price of oil dropping briefly to zero dollars a barrel.
The Stock Market has been on a tear, showing a deeper decoupling of the stock market and the jobs economy, causing even further resentment.
Airlines, Travel, and Tourism Industries were also shocked as the world stopped traveling.
The Global Nonprofit Sector saw significant losses in the global fight against poverty.
And even the Used Car Industry got weird. Prices soared as supply lines were interrupted and demand grew with the shuttering of mass transit.
Pause.
Let’s breathe.
The world of work has changed. And many feel deep anxiety and loss. Many feel overwhelmed and helpless.
What can we really do in such a tidal wave of change?
Editor’s note: Part two of this series answers this question by looking at three systemic changes to our economy and how people of faith can respond to the changing world of work. This post first appeared at Denver Institute.
Scrolling through my Facebook feed, last week I noticed a rare delight: Edith Franco was beaming. Recently graduated with a masters degree, she posed in black cap and gown in front of the Texas State University sign smiling ear to ear.
Almost a decade ago I was her youth pastor at a small church in Brighton. Optimistic, kind and bright, Edith was the first to volunteer, the last to complain and she ran circles around her AP classes in high school. As I wondered where the time had went, I also worried for her: What will an undocumented immigrant do with all that potential?
This week I was one of 180 entities and individuals representing business, law enforcement and faith communities to urge the new Biden administration to reform our nation’s outdated and broken immigration system.
I come to this debate not as a business leader, clamoring for an updated immigration system that meets employment needs of our modern economy, nor as a police officer, wanting to bring security to communities that live in lawless limbo because of unenforceable immigration laws that haven’t been substantially changed since 1965.
Instead, I support immigration reform primarily as a person of faith.
From 2011-2013, I pastored “Dreamers,” youth who were brought illegally to the U.S. by their parents as children, often infants. High school students like Edith, so eager to contribute to the only country they had ever known, lived under a constant cloud. The fear of deportation and separation from their family — not to mention minimal job prospects in a shadow economy — gave me an introduction to the ways outdated laws could oppress rather than “establish Justice, ensure domestic Tranquility, and promote the general Welfare,” as our constitution states.
My experience as a pastor of a Hispanic congregation led me to investigate what the Bible said on the topic. I was surprised to learn that the Hebrew word for foreigner or stranger, ger, occurs 92 times in the Old Testament. And some of the most well-known figures of my faith were immigrants. Abram was called “out or Ur” to leave his homeland and move to Canaan. Joseph was an immigrant in Egypt, as were Moses and the Israelites (Exodus 2:22) Reminding them of this fact, God commanded his people to not mistreat the foreigner, but instead to “love them as yourself,” because they too were once immigrants in a foreign land (Leviticus 19:33-34).
Jesus himself was a refugee as a child, fleeing persecution with his parents as an infant (Matthew 2:13-15). Later in life, Jesus made foreigners the heroes of his parables (Luke 10:25-37) and even claimed that welcoming the stranger is the same as welcoming him (Matthew 25:44-45).
Friends in my own theologically conservative circles are quick to point out the importance of the rule of law, citing Romans 13: “Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established.”
To this I wholeheartedly agree. Because laws must be obeyed, when they cease to serve the common good, they need reformation.
Indeed, all 180 signatories believe in the need to make changes to our immigration law which strengthens communities, addresses border security, grows our economy, expands visas for high tech and agricultural work, and regularizes the status of the estimated 10-12 million undocumented immigrants in the U.S., including more than 800,000 Dreamers like Edith.
In my work at Denver Institute for Faith & Work, we teach that all people are made in God’s image and created to work (Genesis 1:28, 2:15). We believe all work has value, must be fairly compensated (Deut. 24:15), and both workers and employers should obey the rule of law. And all should have the opportunity to reach-their God-given potential.
I recently called Edith to catch up. Two years ago she married a Puerto Rican and is now a legal resident. She’s working in a law office, using her masters degree to help other immigrants navigate a broken immigration maze that desperately needs reform.
“There are so many people who want to be here and want to contribute to this country,” Edith said. “Shouldn’t they be able to?”
***
This op-ed first appeared in the Boulder Weekly. It is the rare piece of advocacy I do on an issue I care about. If you’d like to learn more about the topic of immigration, here’s a nine-minute Scripture reflection focused on the theme of the “foreigner.” Also, here’s a series of talks from leading Christian thinkers and practitioners on the topic of immigration from a Christian perspective which I helped produce at a conference nearly 8 years ago. Finally, I should mention that Edith’s new married last name is “de Cardona.”
It was a Sunday afternoon. I walked out my back garage to toss the trash. I opened the green can, heaved in the white plastic bag, and breathed in … the stench of smoke. As I shut the can I moseyed out to my driveway to investigate. I looked up in the sky. The sun was a dull yellow, filtered through an unnatural cloud that covered the horizon. Smoke from the worst wildfires in Colorado history hung like a lingering ghost. Ash slowly fell around me and the street in my neighborhood was completely empty.
As I turned to walk back inside I heard something. It was a song coming from a truck around the corner. As I paused and peered through the sullen glow, I saw an ice cream truck, driving as if children were going to happily skip outside, eager for an afternoon treat. Yet none emerged from their homes, sequestered by their parents from the pandemic. The truck jingled by, as if from the set of a post-apocalyptic movie.
What a fitting metaphor for our world today, I thought. Our society is burning and our consumer culture offers us an “ice cream cone” to forget our troubles. Of course, as we grow, the “ice cream cone” changes: new car, job promotion, dinner parties, binge watching endless movies in our homes. But each can be a thin veneer that masks what each of us senses: the world we live in is frightfully broken. So many of us live a life distracted by entertainment, but we sense internal emptiness and desolation, one that spreads from souls to jobs to cities.
We long for a deeper hope that can animate our daily lives.
Why faith & work? Of all the pressing causes in our world, why care about this one, especially in a time of growing economic disparities, decaying social trust, and the shrinking of the church? Why invest time, attention, and resources in a vision that prioritizes both historic Christian faith and its influence on our daily work?
In this first of three articles, let me suggest three theological truths that open up new horizons for the meaning of Christian faith for our work and world today.
Gospel. The word simply means “good news.” In the ancient Roman empire, Caesar had his own euangelion, whose reign through military strength was thought to be the guarantor of peace and prosperity. One ancient coin even called Caesar a “Son of God.”
Yet a small group of Jews said that there was another gospel. They claimedthat a carpenter from Nazareth was the true Son of God, not Caesar. They said that though he was crucified as a criminal, he had been raised from the dead by God and freely offered forgiveness of sins and eternal life to any and all as free gift. And the essence of this “Son of God” was not power to conquer his enemies but love. Even for one’s enemies.
Fast forward to 21st century America. Today we’re used to hearing the word “gospel” in reference to gospel music or to the notion of “getting saved.” In many conservative Protestant circles, believing the “gospel” means soul salvation: Jesus died, I receive forgiveness, and I go to heaven when I die. Yet this version of the gospelwould have seemed very strange to the early Christians. The apostle Paul believed there were four essential elements to his “gospel”: the incarnation of God himself in the person of Jesus (Romans 1:2), the crucifixion of Christ for our sins (1 Corinthians 15:2-3), the resurrection of Christ for our salvation and the salvation of the world (John 3:16; 2 Corinthians 5:19), and the Second Coming of Christ to judge the world and ultimately restore the world as God had originally intended it (Romans 2:16).
In our modern world, we’ve reduced the “gospel” to an individual, private experience involving only me and God. But this is a severe reduction of the breadth of the historic Christian faith. The truth is that sin is much worse than we thought. It has not only infected my heart, but has spread like a cancer into workplaces, industries, cultures, and cities. But the good news, the gospel, is also much better than we thought: Jesus is healing not just our souls but also those same workplaces, industries, cultures, and cities (Colossians 1:20). Indeed, he is not just light for my heart, he is the Light of the World (John 8:12).
Why, then, should we care about work? Teaching kindergarten, practicing law, manufacturing air filters, serving tables: work is the public arena in which the breadth of the gospel can heal our fractured world. When George Washington Carver discovered new uses for the peanut, he listened to the voice of God for scientific discovery. When Bach wrote symphonies, he did so soli Deo Gloria —for the glory of God. And when the salesperson wonders if he’s wasting his life in retail, it’s the good news that crowns him with glory and dignity, even in difficult circumstances.
Christians have been entrusted with a spark of good news — one that claims salvation is far bigger and deeper than we had once thought.
Kingdom. The central message of Jesus’ own earthly ministry was about the Kingdom of God (Mark 1:14-15). To Americans who are used to electing their highest political authority to office, talk of kings and kingdoms can seem strange. Yet it’s a common theme in the Old Testament (Psalm 10:16; Isaiah 37:16; 2 Chronicles 20:6). And Jesus insisted on emphasizing it, even commanding his people for all generations to pray, “may your kingdom come, and your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10).
What does the Kingdom of God have to do with our work? First, saying that Jesus is the very highest authority both in your life and in the world is a deeply political, and public, commitment. Every nation, as well as every company, school, or hospital, has a set of values. Immediately, the Christian comes into any work situation first being a citizen of another country (1 Peter 2:13-17). That means when working at Amazon or at the local gas station, some of your values align with your workplace; others are different. This stubborn declaration that Jesus is king over all means your work is a contested arena between His Kingdom and the kingdoms of this world (Revelation 11:15). Each meeting, each project, each task, each relationship takes on a new significance in an age-old battle between darkness and light (Colossians 1:13). Whether you’re in politics, business, or education, the Kingdom of God makes every Christian a reformer.
But second, and more importantly, Jesus is inviting us into a new reality. I’ve often heard Protestants speak of “building the Kingdom.” But this is not how Jesus speaks about the Kingdom. He simply calls people to enter and receive the Kingdom (Matthew 7:21, 23:13, 25:34). That means, in a sense, there is no work to be done. Simply receive the gracious gift of living in a new creation, partaking in the divine nature, and resting in the “easy burden” of the way of Christ. Work is the sphere of life in which we live, day-to-day, in the fullness of the life of God (John 10:10b). Rather than believing spiritual matters are just for church, spiritual depth and joy can spill over into your daily work.
Mission. Old Testament Scholar and framer of the Lausanne Covenant Dr. Christopher Wright popularized the term the Mission of God. When we hear the word “mission” we often think of missionaries overseas or paid Christian professionals sent by a church either to evangelize or serve the poor. Yet Wright makes the strong — and lengthy! — case that God himself has a mission. From the calling of Abraham and the people of Israel to the culmination of human history in the book of Revelation, God himself is initiating a grand project to restore his fractured creation (Genesis 3).
How, then, does this involve our daily work? The marvel of the grand narrative of Scripture is that God calls us — flawed, deeply broken human beings — into his purposes to heal and restore his world. This may include overseas work in microfinance. Yet it may be far closer to home. John Stott, the preeminent 20th-century missiologist, pastor, and author, believed our vocations are the central way we partake in “mission.” Police officers protect and serve, farmers feed their neighbors, teachers educate the mind, janitors and mechanics clean and repair our buildings. It’s through our work that we reflect Jesus’ own high calling “to serve, and not to be served” (Mark 10:45).
So, why faith & work? Ultimately, we live in a story of good news. Death is overcome. The darkness does not win. And God summons all people first to himself, and then sends them back into the world as his ambassadors (2 Corinthians 5:20).
In a time when it feels like our culture is burning and sending smoke into our nostrils and lives, our spiritual lives can feel desolate like an empty street on a dull Sunday afternoon. Yet the breadth of gospel, the promise of a coming Kingdom, and a call to participate with God in his mission reframes how we live and work.
This is good news indeed.
This is the first article of a three-part series on “Why Faith & Work?” The next article will focus on the reality of our jobs and working lives.
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