Enjoy the Process

Tag: culture

  • The Letter of Robert to the New Jerseyians

    Introduction

    The idea to write this letter sprouted a couple of years ago when I submitted an application for an entry in a theological newsletter. The idea was to document the process of writing a handwritten letter and to contrast that with reading letters in print. I wanted to summarize what I learned academically and disseminate the nuggets of wisdom I discovered in an accessible format. However, my idea was not accepted.

    A few months ago, I spoke with a friend from New Jersey. We talked about faith and church. Through the conversation, I remembered this idea. However, this time I had a particular audience in mind and a greater reason as to why I wanted to write the piece.

    I wrote this letter because I wanted to encourage and inspire a handful of people I knew. I wanted to succinctly document my theological learning and experiences over the past five years. I wanted to express the content in a familiar format so people can approach biblical letters with a renewed perspective.

    The Letter in Print

    Whether or not a New Jerseyian was encouraged or inspired, it was a fun process to write (by hand), type, edit, format, and print this creative piece with a humble curiosity for greater things.

    New Jerseyians

  • Culture of Enlightenment Births Evangelicalism

    Through its culture of reason and progress, the Enlightenment created a new environment for Christian faith and practice, particularly expressed through the complicated birth of evangelicalism.[1]

    The Enlightenment consists of multiple people, events, behaviors, and ideas that stretch across a large breadth of time and place. The eighteenth century in particular has been most notably known as the Age of Enlightenment.[2] This century had seen a greater “push for societies based on reason rather than religious confession.”[3] More legitimacy was given to the separation of church and state and “the will of the people rather than the will of God” was becoming the predominant voice of society.[4] There were significant advancements in science and technology, and new understandings of anthropology, sociology, and the modern economy.[5]

    One could say that the “social imaginary” — “the way people imagine their social existence” — was ultimately transforming.[6] This transformation primarily took place through “the public sphere among educated elites in the eighteenth century” and the set of practices developed by the public sphere “gradually changed their meaning for people, and hence helped to constitute a new social imaginary (the ‘economy’).”[7]

    These broad trends and cultural shifts were demonstrated in the heart of a local town in Newport, Connecticut. Documented in the life of Sarah Osborn, an eighteenth-century writer, she provides a “unique vantage point” of the changing times.[8] Her story illuminates three cultural tones of the eighteenth-century Enlightenment: consumerism, capitalism, and humanitarianism.[9]

    The economic social imaginary that was developing in the eighteenth century consisted of an abundance of material goods that were to be traded in the marketplace. Technological advancements provided a better means to living and thus a “consumer revolution” took place in Newport, where people “could savor the pleasures of buying a new book, choosing a new outfit, or investing in a matched set of Wedgwood plates.”[10] Sarah welcomed this consumer revolution and saw it “as a reflection of God’s beneficence toward his creation.”[11]

    With an abundance of goods and a growing marketplace, mercantile capitalism began to take shape. New opportunities were offered by the marketplace and while “[Sarah] and other evangelicals saw nothing wrong with either making money or buying things in the marketplace,” there was a growing skepticism to some of the inherent values supported by capitalism. “Capitalism depended on a commitment to the values of acquisitive individualism, benevolent self-interest, and free choice.”[12] The merchants in Newport, “acted as though they were the master of their own fate” while Sarah fought against this value system that seemed to displace the providence of God.[13]

    Related to this new economic reality was the cultural voice of humanitarianism. An emphasis on the will of the people over the will of God changed the narrative of the roles of humans in society.[14] The humanitarian movement was characterized by religious skepticism or even disbelief, viewed happiness as the greatest good, sought to abolish suffering, believed humans could make the world a better place, and ultimately claimed humans as essentially good.[15] These values stood in stark contrast even to the prior century.

    Due to Sarah’s existing faith in God, she lived in tension when these economic and humanitarian values intersected with her beliefs and thus embodied the impact of the Enlightenment with Christian faith and practice.

    Consumerism and the increase in material goods and standard of living created a temptation for the “the Powerful Love of the World and Exorbitant Reach after Riches.”[16] The tension that arose was not with the materialism itself. When “people participated in the consumer economy, they were encouraged to imagine themselves as free agents who could fashion their identities however they pleased, gratifying their desires instead of repressing them.”[17] It was this kind of choice that Sarah saw sinful and the emphasis on the autonomous individual over and against her sovereign God.[18] While eighteenth-century ministers condemned the sin of covetousness, they were ironically “pioneers in using commercial techniques to spread the gospel. Like merchants who advertised their goods in local newspapers, they publicized their meetings in order to attract as many people as possible.”[19] While there was a prophet-like condemnation on luxury and corruption, ministers of the time “knew how to ‘sell’ religion.”[20] The effect of consumerism impacted both personal and public expressions of Christian faith and practice.

    The capitalistic values of individualism, self-interest, and free choice may have had one of the biggest impacts on Christian faith and practice. This is most evidently seen by the evangelical emphasis on personal experience and one’s choice to believe. Catherine Brekus explains that

    Enlightenment philosophers defended the right of the sovereign individual to … worship according to the dictates of his own conscience… Evangelicals were ambivalent about the individualism that was enshrined by the Enlightenment, but in response to the challenges of their time they crafted a new form of Protestantism that was based more on the converted individual than the covenanted community… [Even] though evangelicals agreed that both personal and communal transformation were important, they put their pronunciation more on the individual, arguing that one could not be a Christian without a personal experience of grace.[21]

    While Sarah and other “evangelicals did object… to the model of selfhood that formed the bedrock of the emerging capitalist order,” the influence of the Enlightenment may have given greater significance to Sarah Osborn’s story and personal conversion, especially during a time where the female voice was a minority. Evangelicalism “gave women a new vocabulary of individual experience to justify their authority and leadership.”[22] This was clearly evident in Sarah Osborn’s life.

    Another impact of individualism and the larger socioeconomic changes were on the family dynamic, which as Mary Eberstadt argues, has a correlative effect on religious practice.[23] In the seventeenth century, ministers viewed the family as a “hierarchical ordering of both church and state.”[24] This began to change as the institution of the family began to have less influence on its members. “[Whether] or not evangelicals understood the underlying historical forces that were changing the family, they were disturbed by their effects.”[25]

    The humanitarian movement had a more direct effect on Christian faith and practice, as one of its characteristic traits is religious skepticism. The view of the essential goodness of humanity inevitably brought the doctrine of sin into question. “Ordinary Protestant” believers found the language of total depravity, corruption, and evil “extreme, perhaps even absurd.”[26] As seen in her writings, Sarah did not adopt this particular message of humanitarianism and in numerous occasions highlights her sinfulness. Nonetheless, there was a growing popularity in “a new gospel of human goodness.”[27]

    A very complex dynamic that arose between humanitarianism (and the broader changes of the Enlightenment) and Christian faith and practice is through their birth of the antislavery movement. Interestingly, it was neither of these two forces alone that ultimately addressed the inherent wrong of owning and selling another human being. First century Christians up until the early eighteenth century have coexisted with slavery.[28] While Sarah had a tremendous heart to welcome slaves and free blacks into her home to sing, pray, and listen to their stories, she was more concerned with their salvation than their bodily freedom.[29] Most Enlightenment philosophers “imagined reason as the sole property of white European men, denigrating all other peoples as ‘racially inferior and savage.’”[30] Historians have studied how the antislavery movement picked up particular strength in the late eighteenth century. Explanations include how “it emerged in tandem with the humanitarian movement, revolutionary rhetoric, and mercantile capitalism.”[31] It was this complex dynamic of these cultural forces along with a strong Christian ethic that gave breadth to “a powerful indictment of slavery.”[32] For Sarah, because of “her zeal to save sinners she sometimes turned a blind eye to the entrenched evils of her time, especially slavery.”[33] However, through the radical change in the late eighteenth century and the influence of abolitionist Samuel Hopkins, she also had a change of heart seeing the “horrid sin” of slavery.[34]

    One other particular impact of the Enlightenment on Christian faith and practice, worth mentioning in brief, is how the overall trend toward reason and knowledge as well as the evangelical emphasis on personal experience may have both contributed to the demise of the authority of Scripture. “[Evangelicals] did not view conversion as an intellectual assent to the truths of the Bible or as a slow, imperceptible turning to God; for them it was a ‘new sense’ that was as real as the physical senses of seeing, hearing, or tasting.”[35] And through the elevation of scholarly study, the Bible became like any other ordinary ancient text examined for its truthfulness and usefulness to contribute to the broader pool of knowledge.[36]

    It is clear that the Enlightenment and its cultural values had a significant impact on Christian faith and practice, particularly seen through the eyes—or rather words—of eighteenth-century writer, Sarah Osborn. Although it was a brief review of the complex interactions occurring at the time, this exploration of history provides, as John Fea argues, “one small way of cultivating the virtues necessary for a thriving democracy.”[37] He continues, “We can attend religious services with people who share our socioeconomic status, skin color, theological beliefs, and style of worship… ‘How can we take responsibility for our society if we remain in such a state of isolation, growing fat in our ideological enclaves?’[38]

    While Sarah Osborn—nor any person in history for that matter except Jesus Christ—was not perfect, she did exemplify a life that most definitely reached across different skin color and socioeconomic status, and attempted to live a life most pleasing to God as she wrestled within the tension of the growing values of the Enlightenment and her own expression and practice of Christian faith. She reminds modern day Christians to do the same.

    [1] Catherine A. Brekus, Sarah Osborn’s World: The Rise of Evangelical Christianity in Early America (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013), 9.

    [2] Iain Provan, The Reformation and the Right Reading of Scripture (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2017), 391.

    [3] Ibid.

    [4] Ibid., 392.

    [5] Ibid., 391-2.

    [6] While outside the scope of this essay, there is a strong case for the argument of an eighteenth-century social imaginary, as presented in Charles Taylor, Modern Social Imaginaries (Durham: Duke University Press, 2004).

    [7] Taylor, 30.

    [8] Brekus, 5.

    [9] Ibid., 7. While these words and the modern understanding of the concepts did not develop until later, “language often lags behind reality” as demonstrated through the life of Sarah Osborn.

    [10] Ibid., 193.

    [11] Ibid.

    [12] Ibid., 213.

    [13] Ibid. 193.

    [14] Provan, 392.

    [15] Brekus, 218.

    [16] Ibid., 44.

    [17] Ibid., 193.

    [18] Ibid.

    [19] Ibid.

    [20] Ibid.

    [21] Brekus, 187. Charles Taylor corroborates this point in his analysis of the “disembedding” of individuals. He notes that Protestant—or perhaps more specifically, evangelical—churches “operated, where one was not simply a member by virtue of birth but had to join by answering a personal call. This is turn helped to give force to a conception of society as founded on covenant, and hence as ultimately constituted by the decision of free individuals.” See Taylor, 62 (emphasis added).

    [22] Brekus, 183.

    [23] See Mary Eberstadt, How the West Really Lost God: A New Theory of Secularization (West Conshohocken, PA: Templeton Press, 2013).

    [24] Ibid., 45.

    [25] Brekus, 45.

    [26] Ibid., 46.

    [27] Ibid.

    [28] Ibid., 287.

    [29] Ibid., 269-70. E.g., Jonathan Edwards did not view slavery as a sin even referring to Scripture. See Brekus, 268.

    [30] Ibid., 267.

    [31] Ibid., 284.

    [32] Ibid., 287.

    [33] Ibid., 219.

    [34] Ibid., 287.

    [35] Ibid., 94.

    [36] Provan, 401.

    [37] John Fea, Why Study History? Reflecting on the Importance of the Past (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2013), 117.

    [38] Ibid. Fea quotes Nicholas Kristof, “The Daily Me,” New York Times, March 19, 2009.

  • Loving God with a Social Imaginary of Expressive Individualism

    What does it mean to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength?”[1] I have pondered this question numerous times in my journey of faith. Loving God with all my strength was “easy” to practice as it meant faithfully attending Sunday gatherings, tithing, and generally living with a decent moral compass. Loving God with all my mind had brought me to Regent College to wrestle with some of the skeptical questions I have had, prior to which have either been dismissed with juvenile responses or left unanswered. Despite all the good deeds and contemplation thus far, ironically, it seems that at this juncture of my journey I am reminded once again, to have faith like a child and to love God like a child. I believe this disposition is most crucial to the Christian and to the church. Simply put, love God with all your heart.

    Loving God with all your heart is crucial to the Christian and the church because it is central to the greatest commandment, referenced above. Our hearts contain our identity, character, and attitude, thus loving God in this manner requires our whole selves, which I believe is the very essence of being in relation with a living and dynamic God. And being in relation with God further reveals our identity, shapes our character, and aligns our attitude. It is from this foundation that all other expressions of love and action ought to take place.

    This disposition is crucial to the Christian because a deeper understanding of our identity helps clarify and fulfill our purpose. Understanding ourselves and discovering a purpose is ubiquitous in the narrative of the modern West. For the Christian, we may rephrase this as identifying God’s purpose for me, hearing the call of God, living a life honoring to God, being faithful witnesses, or searching for a vocation, to name a few. Despite any criticism of contemporary culture, this is the main thread that weaves through the lives of countless individuals, Christian or not. Without a proper understanding of one’s identity, it will be difficult to live a life of purpose that is distinct from someone who does not have a relationship with God. Self-centered, consumeristic, and immanent lives plague the Christian in the modern West.[2] Perhaps loving God with all our hearts will move the Christian to a God-centered, giving, and transcendent life that will be a blessing to those around him or her.

    The church being the body of Christ, made up of different members, ought to consist of these individual Christians and as a whole, love God as a community. I believe that without the first commandment being exercised fully, it will be exponentially more difficult to follow through with the second commandment, that is, love your neighbor as yourself.[3] While simplistic, perhaps this definition of church is ever more necessary in an ever more increasingly complex society. Church is more about going to church or doing church and is being pulled in endless directions of identifying with either a tradition, political party, or particular stance. Perhaps the foremost identity the church ought to reestablish is to love God with all our hearts. This may seem too philosophical for those who do not sit in academic institutions or too airy for those who are busy standing in the corner of marketplaces, but I would argue that bridges must be built across all gaps of Christian communities to affirm a unified identity.

    While important in a local setting to be an example of love and peace to the community, it is equally important to establish this identity in the broader biblical narrative and global context. It is crucial to understand the history of the people of God represented through Israel as well as in the early church. The current narrative engrained into most is Western Christendom, however a retelling of the Christian story is critical particularly for those in the modern West. I believe this must start from academic institutions that emphasize this particular narrative over the lost Eastern Christianity and of even more relevance, the burgeoning Christianity in the Global South. Without a humble, unified identity, there is no hope for a global ecumenism to flourish.

    Without a renewal of the heart to and for God, without a proper identity, redeemed character, and humble attitude, I believe the church will no longer have any relevance in the modern West. Just like the empty cathedrals in Western Europe serving as tourist attractions to ancient days, it is only a matter of time before church and Christian would become irrelevant to the fast-paced, changing culture. Whether in Vancouver where folks are mostly politely ambivalent to any religious overtone or where the bright lit crosses littered throughout the city of Seoul hold little to no meaning of hope, the need for a renewed love for God is ever more necessary.[4]

    This change of heart is very much needed in the modern West and quickly wherever modernity and affluence reach next. It is particularly more pressing where Christianity was once fruitful but now is becoming more secular. Growing up in the Greater New York area, I have certainly felt the cross-pressures between faith and questioning.[5] Raised as a nominal Christian by parents who were “first-generation Christians,” it was easy to become an atheist once I learned about evolution and science in my early years and later in my adolescence mostly living between either as an agnostic or Moralistic Therapeutic Deist.[6] This was the foundation that I stood on, albeit being shaky, and the lens that I saw the world through. Inevitably, I became a product of the secular age.

    Plagued by a “profound dissatisfaction with a life encased entirely in the immanent order,” whilst faithfully attending Sunday gatherings and participating in mid-week communal activities, I began my own quest to search for a deeper meaning than what I had known thus far.[7] This journey began with exploring a myriad of “meaningful activities,” from volunteering at soup kitchens to joining professional student organizations and because of my religious background, an attempt to read the Bible seriously with an open heart and mind. What remained were the tugs of the transcendent. In Evangelical terms, the grace of God. While my personal spirituality was growing and the relationship with a living God blossoming, I was still dissatisfied with the status quo of Christian belief and activities, oscillating between a self-righteous attitude and a “holy discontent,” as some have described. After relocating to Vancouver in an attempt to explore God not only in an academic manner, but also at ground level in the “real world” of downtown, I am still on this journey that started years ago.

    This past summer, my wife and I took the time to explore what it means to be the church without strictly defining it to a tradition or local gathering. Personally, I am still asking God what it means to be a good and faithful servant,[8] and in tandem feeling the pull of asking what it means to be the faithful church. While we were so accustomed to having a regular rhythm on Sundays, which demarcated our weeks, I wanted to challenge ourselves to worship God not only on Sunday with the gathered body of believers—although that no longer is the case as most churches accommodate to the non-believer, seeker, or whoever else—but to live a life of worship every single day without having the crutch of the rhythm of Sundays. This season of exploration has led us to encounter so many different expressions of communities attempting to live faithful lives. There are a select few who voluntarily choose to live in an impoverished area to see greater flourishing to those in the margin, without treating mercy as a ministry program. There are those who want to engage with their local community through housing refugees and aiding them to be assimilated into a foreign country, without any stipulation of first believing in the same belief. There is a leader who seeks to be deeply embedded in rich traditions, however does not want to be limited to be congregation focused, but rather community focused. There is another leader who realizes the urban context and culture they are centered in and thus seeks to be a resource ministry to all those who come by and alongside them.

    Clearly, there is a desire for change in various capacities with a common theme of focusing on the larger community. It is encouraging to see these glimpses of impact of faithful churches. However, most of these efforts come from the “institutional community”. While I believe that the traditional models of church and the work that the institutional church does is necessary, in the Age of Authenticity,[9] in a culture of growing distrust of centralized power, in the spirit of innovation and disruption, perhaps there can be new expressions of being the church.[10] But more than creating a new model, more than assessing what may be the most efficient missional strategy, more than discussing what tradition or doctrine is right or wrong from debates over centuries ago, more than attempting to determine what political party or stance is righteous, more than anything else, it is to first and foremost be certain that there is a genuine love of, for, with God with all one’s heart. I believe this is most relevant in our day and age, where authenticity of the individual and the whole is at stake.

    Love God with all your heart may seem subjective and my very proposition is one that has already been doused with “the social imaginary of expressive individualism.”[11] And there is a plethora of arguments against this spirit from traditional religions and institutions.[12] But what if we can be open to a different “take” rather than assuming the existing ‘“spin” – an overconfident “picture” within which we can’t imagine it being otherwise, and thus smugly dismiss those who disagree’?[13] How can this disposition be cultivated and encouraged?

    First, it is a simple, yet difficult question of asking what do you truly believe? What do you truly love? If we were given the space to slow down, if we were given the space to be frank with ourselves without fearing any judgement or the need to go along with a herd mentality, maybe then there will be a clearer identification of what our hearts desire. Equally important is studying our own culture and language. Without leaders realizing the limitations of the language they have assumed and used, it will be impossible for anyone else to see the blinders they may have put on. Scholars such as James Smith and Charles Taylor provide such a rich contribution to this conversation, but there is a need to make this available to the masses in a way that is engageable and understandable.

    A practical application for the leadership for the church is to teach the biblical narrative in light of an exilic motif.[14] As secularity and its ideologies continue to grow at rapid rates and Christians, their language, place, and values are being pushed further to the margins, there is an abundant source of wisdom and hope in forging an identity rooted in exile. From the literal exile of the people of Israel, to the exile and diaspora in the early centuries of the church, adopting this identity as our own in the modern West may give us the right lens to correct our posture and attitude in our culture and society. A change of heart, a “conversion of the church” is core to the vast amount of issues facing Christian witness and living.[15] “While many traditional churches will never be able to make some of the radical shifts necessary to thrive in the new cultural reality, they can participate in the renewal of the church by supporting these kinds of initiatives.”[16] Hopefully, traditional churches will have the ears to hear and listen carefully to the changing tone and landscape of this modern age.[17] With a humble heart and child-like faith and love for God, perhaps then the Christian and the leadership of the Church can exercise a “prophetic imagination,” which “leads us to recall that exile is a time for people to consider where they have come from and to discuss what traditions and practices from the past no longer function effectively as ways of doing ministry or articulating faith in a new contextual reality.”[18] With a renewed love for God, the Christian and the Church can then practice new skills and competencies that provide effective witness of God and perhaps then can any real ecclesial unity flourish with global participation and cooperation.

    This brief reflection on the contemporary age and the church may seem urgent and necessary, however I must frankly conclude that this concern is a far second priority compared to the immediate influence I have as a Christian—first, knowing that all must begin with my own love with God and second, to my wife, my toddler daughter, and my immediate communities.[19] The wisdom from exilic prophets are rich, yet, I am also aware that it is not a prophet’s duty to change the hearts of the people of God and it is ultimately the work of the Spirit.[20] Prophets are held to a higher responsibility to obey, they are tasked with doing ridiculous acts to speak to the people of God, and even sometimes have the love of their life taken from them.[21] I am glad that there are a few who find this concern a noble call and I hope that it is rooted in a deep desire to “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.”

    [1] Mark 12:30 NIV.

    [2] The concept of immanence and secularity in this essay is adapted from James K. A. Smith, How (Not) to Be Secular: Reading Charles Taylor (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2014).

    [3] Mark 12:31.

    [4] South Korea is an interesting case study of the dramatic rise of Christianity in the early 20th century followed quickly by modern advancements, and now facing the challenges of secularity only a century later. See Robert Lee, The Influence of Economic Prosperity on Religious Flourishing: A Case Study of South Korea (Research Paper, Regent College, 2019).

    [5] Smith, 14.

    [6] The term “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism” comes from Kenda Creasy Dean, Almost Christian: What the Faith of Our Teenagers Is Telling the American Church (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010).

    [7] Smith, 89.

    [8] It is interesting to do a careful study of the parable of the talents where this commendation is found. While preachers may use this passage to distinguish different “talents” of individuals doing the work of God, it is primarily a parable couched in economic terms, found in the greater Mount of Olives discourse, regarding the end times.

    [9] Smith, 85.

    [10] While weighing out the pros and cons of the necessity of institutions and traditions is outside the scope of this brief reflection, I do believe that they are necessary. But just like the Hilton hotels did not become obsolete with the disruption of Airbnb or taxi medallions with Uber, I believe there ought to be more room for the institutional and traditional church to accommodate the changing the times.

    [11] Smith, 85.

    [12] Ibid., 90.

    [13] Ibid., 94.

    [14] I am indebted to the vision presented by Lee Beach, The Church in Exile: Living in Hope After Christendom (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2015).

    [15] Beach, 148.

    [16] Ibid., 152.

    [17] Ezekiel 2-3.

    [18] Beach, 144.

    [19] In reference to the Circle of Influence and the Circle of Concern found in Steven Covey’s, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change (New York: Free Press, 2004), 81-91.

    [20] Ezekiel 2:2.

    [21] Ezekiel 3:18-21; 4:12; 24:15-27.

  • Theological Reflection of a Vocational Dishwasher

    “You cook, I will clean,”

    I told my beloved wife. My wife and I agreed this would be a fair distribution of household duties while considering our natural preferences and desires. I do not mind cleaning and prefer doing the dishes. Cleaning dishes began as nothing more than a simple responsibility within the complex dynamic of a marital relationship. However, it has now evolved to be a mirror reflecting culture, theology, identity, vocation, and technology. Dishwashing has aided in the development of my personal theological foundation as well as of my understanding of how the gospel relates to (my) culture.[1] Dishwashing has helped me understand the overarching narrative of culture; pushed me to question what is the good news of Jesus Christ and its relevance to my role as a dishwasher; redeemed my understanding of identity and vocation; and guided my reflection on the impact of technology.

    “Can you please put away your dirty dishes,”

    my mom occasionally told me while growing up. Dishwashing and anything related to it was never something to look forward to or be inspired by. My experiences as a dishwasher began in my early childhood, when putting away the dishes and sometimes cleaning them was nothing more than a menial chore. If anything, both cooking and cleaning were the tasks of my mother—the kids simply put their dishes away once finished with the meal. Later into adolescence, the chore slightly evolved acquiring a small payment for doing the task and with rare glimpses of maturity, I did my own dishes perhaps to help out my mother from time-to-time or to establish some sort of illusionary independence. I also learned at an early age that cleaning in general was the only job I could get without requiring special skill sets or simply being older. It seemed my own childhood experiences were universal as I learned when I started living with roommates during my undergraduate years. No one enjoyed doing the dishes and they would frequently pile up in the sink, leading to a game of who can stack the dishes the highest without touching the spout. It seemed as if I frequently lost this game as I ended up doing them out of frustration. This general pattern persisted up until my marriage, where I voluntarily chose to be the primary dishwasher or dishwasher loader—more will be said about this later.

    My past experiences, including being the primary dishwasher for the past five years, has taught me much about culture. Dishwashing serves as a reflection on how culture views identity and what it values. Much of our cultural identity is shaped by what we do which further reflects what we value. And the role and function of a dishwasher is not on the high-end of what culture values. A simple job search easily reveals this notion and even more so, people do not attend university so they could obtain a degree in household cleaning.[2] Washing dishes as a function also does not “help pay for the bills” as the cliché goes. This challenged the deep-rooted narrative that had been written on my mind and heart for many years—the value of culture is largely determined by occupation and close behind that, money.[3],[4]

    The subtlety of this value taking hold of my worldview revealed itself once I became a dishwasher. Prior to marriage, I thought I genuinely affirmed the role of full-time, stay-at-home mothers, recognizing household duties as valuable and necessary work. However, once I was in the position to be a full-time, house husband, that genuine affirmation slowly eroded after realizing one of my primary responsibilities was to wash dishes. According to cultural standards, because I had no occupation and was making little to no money, what I did had little value and in turn, my very identity as well.

    Our occupations provide financial and social value. Thus, occupations that are high-paying or with significant titles generally hold more currency. There has also been a more recent shift or rather attachment to this cultural narrative, where personal fulfillment and meaning has become a major factor in choosing one’s occupation.[5] It would also be easy to assume that this cultural narrative is only a secular one. Particularly from a Western Christian perspective, there is an additional “religious currency” where the most valuable occupations or callings, to spiritualize the term, are ministerial roles such as pastors or traditional missionaries. Other occupations merely exist to support the institutional church’s agenda.[6] This false dichotomy between the sacred and secular and hierarchy of what one does plagues Western Christianity. In essence, so called sacred vocations are much more valuable than being a dishwasher. This version of the gospel of Jesus Christ has nothing to do with washing dishes, or one’s occupation, and more importantly, one’s vocation.

    “Do you believe Jesus died for your sins,”

    would be the most common focus of the version of Christianity I knew. Where dishwashing reflects a broad cultural narrative, what is reflects about the gospel in most Christian narratives is the mere irrelevance of one to the other. Through my journey of becoming a vocational dishwasher, I have questioned what is the gospel. My prior understanding of the Christian gospel is my belief in Jesus Christ for my personal salvation. While there may be some truth to this, this solely individualistic perspective and “truncated version of the biblical gospel” has no relevance to the broader culture, society, and world.[7] While “it is gloriously true that sinners are saved through the cross of Christ, it is not actually the whole gospel or the whole achievement of the cross.”[8] If Christians continue to adopt this form of the gospel, there will continue to be this negative dualism and a complete insignificance to the burgeoning pluralistic culture. By redeeming the entire biblical narrative from the beginning of creation to the end of new creation, including themes of the value of one’s so-called ordinary work, being a blessing to other nations, and not only believing but knowing Jesus Christ who lived, died, and rose again from the dead, could there be a possible redemption of the relevance of the gospel to be just that—good news to culture.[9],[10]

    “I am a vocational dishwasher,”

    is the new mantra I now confidently live by. My recent and ongoing explorations of the gospel and the whole biblical narrative has helped me to understand vocation and redeemed my identity as a dishwasher. According to the biblical narrative, who we are is shaped and defined by our relation to God and who God is and what we do is shaped and defined by our relation to what matters to God and what God is doing.[11] This stands in stark contrast to a cultural narrative that says we are largely shaped and defined by the shaky foundation of what we do. “Work is a creational good, but the Bible is well aware of the temptation to turn work into an idol – when we live for what we can do and achieve, and then derive our identity and fulfillment from that.[12] Rather, when our vocation is the whole range of relationships and responsibilities, not just our occupations or our primary means of making money, can we then live a life filled with good news.[13]

    My vocation as a dishwasher is vital to the role I play in the relationship with my wife. As I am liberated by the narrative that I ought to be the primary financial provider, I can blossom in my responsibilities to provide a space and home that is clean, welcoming, and loving. As I am liberated by the notion that more is better, I can live simply within my means and truly be satisfied. This type of meaning and fulfillment had largely been elusive even when I was making a six-figure salary or doing impactful work. By living my life according to the biblical narrative, I can see how God is pure and “clean” and thus is in the job of cleaning up, not only my personal mess, but the entire world.

    Another beauty in becoming a vocational dishwasher is the amount of transferable skills and lessons I have acquired over the years. When people see dishwashing as a vocation and not just a menial chore, they can benefit from practical growth. Over the years, I have improved on my time-management, organization, and innovation skills, just to name a few. An early lesson I learned is to do a little bit at a time because once the dishes pile up, they are much harder to do. Procrastination can be a form of poor time-management in any occupation or aspect of life and washing dishes has helped me to be more diligent in this regard. I have also found that it is better to do big dishes, pots, and pans at the end when there is more room in the sink. By organizing in this manner, it is much easier to tackle the little dishes or easier tasks before attempting to finish more difficult ones. And being a vocational dishwasher can lead to more innovative approaches and solutions in achieving one’s goal. For example, by stacking dishes utilizing my “proprietary method,” one is able to save water, which in turn cuts down on costs and is better for the world. One final lesson I learned in this journey is the importance of communication. Dishwasher or doing the dishes can mean different things depending on one’s context and culture. It is important to communicate and understand what work means for different people.

    “Just put it in the dishwasher,”

    is a common instruction for the modern-day individual. While most discussions on technology surround digital innovations, one only has to look at dishwashing to see the impact of technology. The dishwashing machine was invented a little over a century ago. And now an Internet search for “dishwasher” returns results for dishwashing machines from major appliance stores.[14] Ironically, there have been more recent concerns for artificial intelligence (AI) and robots taking over the jobs of humans. However, this trend has already started long ago. Dishwasher is no longer a human who washes dishes, but for most in the modern world, it is a machine. While a discussion on the impacts of technology require its own place, my journey as a vocational dishwasher has reflected the trends of technology and its relation to or rather now its monopoly over culture.[15]

    In simpler times, there may not have been a question of who is in control—the human uses and has control of a tool or technology. For example, a construction worker uses and controls a hammer or a dishwasher is in control of the tools used to wash dishes. With the invention of the dishwashing machine, it is more difficult to discern who is in control. The machine has stripped the human the title of dishwasher and so now we have to wonder if the human is still in control and utilizing the dishwasher or is the dishwasher dictating to the human its own ideology? It is not difficult to make the leap to where society and culture is now with “scientific studies” explaining the harmful effects of screen time or how we lose our relationality with robots and the networked life.[16] Scholars are concerned with the impact of our existing digital technologies, yet the wave of innovation for new discoveries in AI or blockchain, for example, show no sign of slowing down. Washing dishes may seem to have absolutely no relevance to this more complex topic and in some sense it does not. However, if a culture does not have a proper framework and understanding of people’s vocation, something as simple as washing dishes, it is only a matter of time that titles and professions humans hold dear such as accountant or caretaker will be monopolized by technology. It is also crucial that society does not leave this topic on the periphery, but address it head on. It is crucial for religious institutions to be relevant in this sphere as well so that they do not make the same mistake by disregarding the vocation of dishwashers and in turn having no good news to share with culture.[17]

    “So, what is your vocation,”

    one may ask. My vocation is a dishwasher. Dishwasher relates to my wife who constitutes much of my life. Dishwasher speaks to my responsibility to wash dishes and by understanding my identity in light of a biblical narrative and Creator God, it also speaks of my responsibility to be a cleaner of all things, that whatever I touch, I can make the world a slightly cleaner and better place. The beauty of this vocation is anyone and everyone can do it. So,

    “Are you willing to wash some dishes?”

    [1] In the era of late globalization, it would be foolish to assume one culture is normative over another. When I use the term culture, it is from a modern, Western perspective and a middle-to-wealthy socioeconomic class.

    [2] Out of curiosity, I searched if something like this existed. The closest thing would be online certificates, material from an established institute for cleaning practices, and a questionable “university for maids”.

    [3] I must recognize that this is not the only value dominating the current cultural narrative, however it will be the one I will focus on. Other examples include consumerism or post-modernism.

    [4] See Craig M. Gay, Cash Values: Money and the Erosion of Meaning in Today’s Society (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans and Regent College Pub, 2004).

    [5] The influence of post-modernity is changing what people value in regards to occupations. I am mainly assuming that most in the modern West still value occupations that provide more financial and social currency.

    [6] Christopher J. H. Wright, The Mission of God’s People: A Biblical Theology of the Church’s Mission (Grand Rapids, Mich: Zondervan, 2010), Location 206, 3953, 4191, Kindle.

    [7] Wright, Loc 5250.

    [8] Wright, Loc 824.

    [9] See Gen 2:15-16, Isa 65:17-25, Acts 4:1-22, Jer 29:7, and 1 Tim 2:1-4.

    [10] This is a very brief and elementary summary of the biblical gospel. Much more can and needs to be said in light of traditions differing from Western Evangelicals and more importantly the growth of World Christianity.

    [11] Steven Garber, Visions Of Vocation (Downers Grove, Illinois: IVP BOOKS, 2014), 161. Also adapted from Christopher Wright, The Mission of God’s People.

    [12] Wright, Loc 4537.

    [13] Garber, 11.

    [14] Based on a search result from DuckDuckGo. Accessed on Feb 28, 2019. One would need to input “dishwasher job” to get results related to the human act of washing dishes.

    [15] I owe much of this discussion on technology to Neil Postman, Technopoly: The Surrender of Culture to Technology, Reprint edition (New York: Vintage, 1993).

    [16] See Sherry Turkle, Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other, First Trade Paper Ed edition (New York, NY: Basic Books, 2012).

    [17] My stance here is not an anti-technology one, as I am well aware of the tremendous benefits technology has brought to society, even the dishwashing machine, which I use. This excerpt is to highlight that the gravity of technology is much heavier than most probably realize.